#one of my favorite ways to make this is to mix the batter and then walk to get a mocha

[lazysoulwriter]

A Quiet Symphony - Paul Mescal.

requested! hope u like it. changed a little bit.

The early morning light filtered through the curtains of their cozy Dublin home, casting a golden glow over the wooden floors. Paul was already in the kitchen, the soft hum of the espresso machine blending with the faint melody of a song he couldn’t get out of his head. He hummed along as he prepared breakfast, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring these rare moments of tranquility.

“Daddy, can I help?” A tiny voice interrupted his reverie. He turned to see their five-year-old daughter, Maeve, standing in the doorway, her hair a wild mess from sleep, clutching her favorite stuffed fox.

Paul crouched down, a grin spreading across his face. “Of course, my little chef. What should we make today? Pancakes?”

Maeve’s eyes lit up as she nodded vigorously. Moments later, the two were standing side by side, Paul guiding her small hands as they mixed the batter. Flour dusted her pajamas, and her giggles filled the air when he tapped her nose with a bit of it.

Upstairs, his wife stirred awake. The sound of laughter and the aroma of coffee lured her from the warm cocoon of their bed. She smiled, wrapping a robe around herself and padding down the stairs. She paused at the doorway, leaning against the frame to watch the scene unfold.

Paul’s back was to her, but she could see the love in his every move. Maeve, perched on a stool, was now attempting to pour the batter onto the skillet. Her concentration was intense, her tongue sticking out slightly—a habit she’d picked up from her father.

“Morning, my love,” she greeted softly, her voice carrying the warmth of the home they’d built together.

Paul turned, his face lighting up at the sight of her. “Good morning, gorgeous.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek, his hand briefly brushing against her bump. Their second child was due in just a few months, and the anticipation was a constant undercurrent in their days.

Breakfast was a lively affair. Maeve insisted on serving everyone, beaming with pride at her slightly misshapen pancakes. Paul’s wife teased him about his overly dramatic praise, but her heart swelled at the way he made their daughter feel like the center of the universe.

Afterward, they moved to the living room. Paul stretched out on the couch, Maeve nestled against his side, and his wife curled up in the armchair with a book. The room was filled with a quiet contentment, the kind that only came from being with the ones you love most.

Later, as the afternoon sun began to dip, Paul sat at the piano, his fingers dancing over the keys. Maeve played on the carpet nearby, her laughter punctuating the music. His wife joined him, resting a hand on his shoulder as she leaned in to press a kiss to his temple.

“You’re my favorite song, you know that?” he murmured, looking up at her with a smile that reached his eyes.

She chuckled softly, her hand moving to rest over his. “And you’re mine.”

Life wasn’t always this idyllic. There were long days, hectic schedules, and the challenges that came with being in the public eye. But in these moments, surrounded by love and laughter, it was easy to forget all of that. Together, they had created a sanctuary—a life that felt like a quiet symphony, beautiful in its simplicity.

[epersonae]

The cooking project - Crêpes

If yesterday's post was probably one of my most-made recipe cards, this might be my most-made recipe in my binder, which is sort of a Binder of Theseus. My sister made me a binder full of typed-out recipes as a gift when I was a sophomore in college, and I still have the section separators, which were collages of images cut from magazines, and I have some (most? all?) of those typed recipes, though the binder itself has been replaced. And of course I've added many more recipes, printed from the internet or sent to me by email or clipped from magazines. (I had a subscription to Sunset for a while in the late 00s!)

This recipe, though, was copied from a webpage into probably a Word document and then printed out, and dates from March 15 2003. The URL in the image no longer works, but the contents can be found in the Wayback Machine (ctrl+f, "crepes"). It was posted as part of the author's "French Week" as sort of an oblique protest of the impending Iraq War. In any case, I have been making it since then.

Because this can be found in the Wayback Machine, and because the instructions are hilariously long, I am not going to retype the whole thing here.

My only personal notations are combining "whole wheat flour" and "white flour" into a single line (I've literally never made these as savory crepes in 20 years), and a note that 1 egg approximately equals 3 crepes.

Making the batter

One of the things I love about this recipe is that it scales really well: one egg to 1/4 cup flour. The sugar ratio is weird and I usually have to do a rough approximation, because 1/4 cup sugar is 4 tablespoons, but also it's a very forgiving recipe that way.

I have learned over the years to beat the eggs first and THEN add the flour/sugar/salt, much less lumps that way. (ironically, 20 years and I just noticed he never says when to add the salt, altho clearly it's with the flour)

I have literally no idea how much milk I use. I mix in a bit at a time until it looks like the right texture/color. It's all vibes, baby.

I don't think I've ever let it sit two whole hours but it definitely does change texture a bit, for the better, if left to sit at least a half an hour. (I have also never drunk a glass of red wine while waiting for the batter.)

Below is: just after mixing in the flour/sugar/salt, then after some milk, all the milk, and after sitting for idk half an hour? 45 minutes?

Jam! Eating while making!

As I said, I've literally never made them savory, altho the last time I had them with a little bit of local whipped goat cheese and strawberry jam, and that was FUCKING TIGHT.

My usual is to take out whatever jams I have (today: strawberry and raspberry freezer jam that I made in 2020 and 2021 respectively, quince jam that a friend made, and marmalade) and just alternate flavors as I make them. I usually end up eating some while I'm making them. (As the guy says, bachelor mode™️.)

Two eggs' worth did in fact make about six crepes, I think, which is kind of a lot for dessert but I guess I had dessert for dinner, it's fine.

(Oh, and I think I've tried flipping them without a spatula exactly once, I am just not that bold.)

In any case, this continues to be one of my favorite recipes of all time, I will make it for anyone at any time for any reason. (The longest stretch I ever went without making it was after Ryn died, and I finally had eggs and milk and enough energy...and found BUGS IN MY FLOUR and about lost my damn mind. But I have made them a couple of times since then.)

Fanfiction bonus content!

So if you are reading my fic for the benefit of all the broken hearts, and you have already read chapter 16, then you know why I posted this today. If you are reading it and have not yet read the new chapter, consider this a teaser.

If you are not reading it: for the benefit of all the broken hearts is a fix-it fic for Water Flowing Underground, a very strange beautiful fic that blurs the line between Actor AU and RPF, that plays with questions of identity and choice and intention and also what we are even doing with fanfiction. My fic picks up from the end of that fic, from the point of view of a character who is dismissed by the narrative of the original, and who finds a way out of the wreckage. (it's the weirdest goddamn thing I've ever written, and yes, I think that includes the Bigfoot fic, and also I think my best writing ever. Certainly the most work I've ever put into any writing in any medium.)

And also there are crepes.

[ventismacchiato]

11 stuck with you — five feet apart !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

ACT TWO

Another hot and sticky night in the stuffy dorms led you outside earlier than usual. Maybe if you were up before Scara you could make something without depending on him for food like everyone else was. 

But alas, the universe hated you. And there he was. Scaramouche, already awake, sitting at the kitchen island mindlessly stirring a cup of tea. But more important than that was the tray of mouth watering muffins sitting in front of him. 

“Did you make those?” you ask cautiously, eyeing him as if he laced them with poison just for the hell of it.

He glanced up, his face unreadable.

“No,” he answers, “Yoimiya did.” 

You felt like thanking the gods right then and there. Relief washed over you. Yoimiya was a safe bet. You grabbed one of the chocolate chip muffins and took a tentative bite. It was sweet, soft, and perfect. At last, something that wasn’t a disaster.

“Finally,” you muttered, savoring the taste. “Something I can actually eat.”

Scara side eyes you, but you didn’t spare him a glance before grabbing another one. You left the blueberry ones untouched, as it wasn’t your favorite. 

“Not surprised you chose the unhealthy option,” Scara speaks up, reaching over to grab a blueberry one.

“I’m not a fan,” you huff, getting defensive over your picky palate. 

“Such a child,” he muttered, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

Just then, the door swung open, and Yoimiya waltzed in along with everyone else.

“Good morning, everyone!” she chirped, her hair bouncing as she moved, “I’m starving!”

“Have some of the muffins you made,” you suggest, “They were really good.”

“Hm? What muffins?” Yoimiya asks as Venti steps around her to grab one, “I didn’t make those, Scara did.”

You turned to Scara, mouth agape. “What? But you said-”

His cheeks flushed slightly, but he recovered quickly, crossing his arms defiantly.

“Fuck off, I said Yoimiya made them,” he corrected, crossing his arms defensively.

“Scara, I literally watched you mix the batter,” she said, “You told me to fuck off because I kept licking the spoons.”

Childe, Aether, and Venti, who had been leaning against the wall munching on said muffins, immediately perked up, sensing an opportunity to annoy the hothead. 

“Looks like Scara’s a real tsundere” Childe laughed, elbowing Aether.

“Right? Can’t even admit he can bake,” Aether chimed in, stifling a chuckle.

“Whatever,” Scara scoffed, getting up and grabbing the water pails and walking off. Lumine shoved you after him.

“Go help him fetch the water,” she suggested, not taking no for an answer.

Scara walked ahead the worn down path, pails swinging at his sides. You hurried to catch up, grabbing one of the pails from him, but immediately winced at its weight. “Fuck.”

Scara lets out a smug smirk at your struggle and easily grabs it back, “Looks like someone’s weak,” he taunted. 

“It’s just the weather,” you say, ignoring how he rolls his eyes. You help turn the spout on to feel a little helpful as you both watch the buckets fill up. Scara’s back was turned to you as he watched to make sure they didn’t overflow. It was rather easy to talk to him when he wasn’t looking at you so you took your chance.

“Thanks for the muffins,” you say almost so quietly the stream of the water almost overshadows it. But with the way Scaramouche’s head slightly turns at your words indicates he heard it. 

“I did it for me, not you,” he says, turning the spout off, “I didn’t want you collapsing on my consciousness.” 

You huffed at his response, but your chest felt oddly warm. You hadn’t considered that Scara might care. In a very roundabout way. 

“Well, why did you lie about them?”

“You wouldn’t have eaten them if I told you I made them,” he answers, grabbing both pails back and turning around. The water sloshed around the edge and left a trail of water running down his biceps. You avert your eyes. Weird. 

“Well, you’re right I wouldn’t have,” you frown, mad he’s right.

“And I didn’t need you thinking I want to do nice things for you,” he adds, stepping past you.

“Besides,” he adds, sparing you a glance, “It’s fun to watch you squirm a bit.”

You ignore the feeling in your stomach.

//

“I hate living on this fucking island,” Scara mutters, wincing at the taste of the well water.

“It’s nice, but doesn’t feel like the vacation I thought it would,” Childe adds, fanning himself with a paper plate. None of the buildings had AC, hence you all were dying. 

“I have so many mosquito bites,” Venti groans.

“I heard you guys complaining!” Yae exclaims, popping in from nowhere.

“Wait, were you behind that counter the entire time?”Aether interrupts.

“Yes, but don’t mind that,” Yae waves off, “I was waiting for a good segway!”

“Couldn’t we have just faked one?” Fischl pipes up.

Yae pauses.

“I suppose so,” she sighs, “Now all of you hush, let me get on with my spiel.” 

She clears her throat and throws on a smile, “I bring all of you a lovely incentive! Today’s game will have a better prize! Remember how we mentioned the sister island is an actual resort? Well, the winner of today’s game will get to spend the night at the five star hotel. That means no cooking your own meals, an actual bed, and spending time with your crush!”

The entire group cheers at her words.

Yae brings the mic down and whispers, “And off record, this one won’t be rigged. Just to keep it more realistic. If a pair other than Scara and Yn win then it’s fine, we’ll send then over another time”

“The archons have listened to me,” Venti praises, raising his hands up, “Hot showers here I come.”

“You guys are going to draw lots for your pairs, but choose whoever you want. It’s a strength challenge so keep that in mind.”

“Fuck yeah,” Childe cheers, already getting up to flex.

“I’m not sure if we should zoom in or cut the cameras,” Yae ponders, “Would the youth be into this?”

“Cut the cameras,” everyone deadpans.

The excitement in the air was palpable as Yae explained the challenge. Everyone would be paired up in groups of two and one member would have to be carried by the other on the shoulders. Yae and the crew would spray water on all of them and try to get them to slip off balance. The last pair standing would win the night on the sister island and be back by tomorrow morning. 

Scara shot you a look, “We are going to win this. I am not spending another night listening to Childe’s snoring and hiking half a mile for water.” 

“Oh, fuck off!” Childe yelled from where he was hoisting Fischl onto his shoulders. 

“Really? You don’t look like you work out,” you mumbled, knowing you were treading on thin ice but unable to resist. “Full offense,” you added for good measure. You didn’t have high hopes for this challenge. You’d already kissed goodbye to your chances at spending the night at the resort. 

“Are you doubting me?” he muttered, already beginning to unbutton his shirt a little to prepare for the challenge, revealing a surprisingly toned build underneath. You felt your cheeks warm slightly as you caught a glimpse of the muscles you hadn’t expected. Archons, why did he always have to one up you?

“Okay, maybe I was wrong,” you admitted, a little flustered. “But you still might not be strong enough to carry me.”

“Just get on my shoulders,” he replied, a hint of irritation in his tone. “You’ll see.”

You reluctantly climbed onto his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck as he hoisted you up from under your legs. It felt odd to be held this close by him. 

Yae barely gave any of you time to adjust before she gestured for the crew to start spraying cold jet streams at you. You could immediately feel your grip slip. You heard a yelp that sounded a lot like Venti’s to your right.

The moment your skin touched his, you felt an unexpected jolt of warmth. “Hold still!” you yelled as the water began spraying down on you both.

“Stop moving,” Scara yelled, but he was shaking his head, trying to clear the water from his face.

“You stop moving!” you yell back, feeling yourself slipping through his grip as water gets in his eyes. You adjust yourself so one arm is hanging onto his shoulders and you bring your other palm to cover his eyes to shield him from the water. 

“Is that better?” you huff, still squinting from your own eyes having no protection.

“Just…hide your head in my neck,” he says, his voice slightly strained but firm. You didn’t need to be told twice, your eyes burning hurt more than your urge to be petty against Scara at that moment. Your will wasn’t very strong, water was enough to take you down it seemed.

You obliged, leaning forward and burying your face in the crook of his neck. Your lips were pressed right up against his skin due to the proximity and you could feel every breath he took.

“Another pair down!” Yae cheered, “Turn up the pressure!”

“She’s having too much fun with this,” you lamented, though your voice came out muffled. You could hear him chuckle, and despite the chaos, you felt a strange comfort in his steadiness.

As the game progressed, you noticed that it was down to just you and Scara against Yoimiya and Lumine. The water sprayed relentlessly, and you felt yourself slipping, but Scara’s grip on your legs tightened. 

Finally, Lumine slipped and the duo fell, leaving just you and Scara to stand.

“We won?” you questioned as Scara let you down, and you stumbled slightly as your feet hit the ground. “Finally,” you breathed, relieved but exhilarated. You both let yourself fall to the ground from exhaustion and cough up water as Yae cheered you guys on.

“Geez guys, at least try to look hot for the camera,” she sighed, letting you guys get up before turning the camera towards you both, “Our winners Scara and Yn will get to spend a night at the luxury resort!”

Childe whistled, and you turned to see Scara’s shirt clinging to him, soaked through from the spray. He shook his head, sending droplets flying everywhere. “Good.” he muttered, looking over at you, “Don’t doubt me next time.”

“Whatever,” you swallow, averting your eyes and locking them with your members instead who decided to be obnoxious and wiggle their eyebrows at you. 

//

You were starting to wonder if spending the night at a luxury hotel instead of the shabby island was worth it when you saw your ride there.

“Why can’t we take a boat?” you mourn, staring up at the helicopter awaiting you and Scara’s departure.

“Because it’ll take too long,” Lisa explained, “We’ll take some last shots then you guys will board and there’ll be a crew over there waiting for you. I want some romance tonight but I’ll let you guys enjoy the amenities too.”

Her words washed over you as you started contemplating swimming to the other island.

Scaramouche let out a scoff as he watched the panic filter through your eyes. He wordlessly grabbed your arm and pulled you into the death trap as you started wondering why you ever became an idol. 

“It’s only fifteen minutes, keep it together,” he muttered, watching as it took you three tries to put your belt on.

You shot him a glare, though the unease in your gut was making it hard to muster up a convincing retort. 

"Not all of us have a death wish," you muttered, trying to sound braver than you felt. The thought of the helicopter's blades slicing through the air and lifting you far above the ocean was doing nothing to steady your nerves.

He opened his mouth to fire back, but Lisa’s voice cut in before he could. “Alright, save the banter for the cameras. Let’s get a shot of you two boarding together!” she said cheerily, a bit too excited for your taste.

You swallowed hard, eyeing the helicopter as if it might bite you. But before you could back away or think of an excuse, you felt a sudden grip on your face, forcing you to turn away from the intimidating sight.

“Idiot,” Scaramouche muttered under his breath, his hand warm against your cheek as he held your head steady, forcing you to meet his gaze instead. “Don’t look if you’re scared. Just focus on something else.”

His eyes were steady, a mixture of exasperation and something softer that caught you off guard. For a second, the world outside—the roar of the helicopter, the prying eyes of the crew, even your own fear—seemed to blur at the edges. All you could see was him, closer than he’d ever been, the lines of his usual smirk softened into something almost unreadable.

You blinked, momentarily stunned by the unexpected gesture.

“That’s good,” Lisa hummed, breaking the weird tension as Scara let go of you and you focused on your shoes.

 "You know you didn’t have to do that,” you say as the pilot starts getting ready for takeoff, “I was fine.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you were,” Scaramouche replies, his voice gruff but quieter now, “I’ll make sure you don’t embarrass yourself too much.” 

You weren’t sure whether to be grateful or insulted, but somehow, the tremor in your hands wasn’t quite as bad as before. 

//

The resort was breathtaking, as one would expect from a luxury hotel. Even Scara was impressed as you both practically cried at the array of foods welcoming you, an escape from the dreadful meals you’ve been preparing for yourself. It all seemed perfect.

Well, apart from one thing. 

“This is so corny, why is there only one bed?” you question as you both walk into your room for the day. It was a lover’s suite. Of course it was.

“Well, you should take the floor,” Scara unhelpfully suggests.

Well, maybe two things.

“Absolutely not!” Lisa shouts from the speakers, causing you both to be startled.

“Freaks, why are you watching us sleep?” Scara mumbles.

“I can hear you!” Lisa shouts again. 

“Whatever, anything’s better than that stupid island,” he eyes you to make his point before walking off to unpack.

“Fuck you!” you call out but he’s already gone. The suite was either so big he coudn’t hear you or he was ignoring you. Far likely to be the latter. 

//

There was one thing you were looking forward to coming here tonight, finally getting to soak in water that wasn’t the frigid ocean. Even if you had to share that with the idiot that was Scaramouche. 

The hot tub bubbled around you, steam curling into the air in soft wisps. The view was stunning, all twinkling lights from the resort below and a sky full of stars that might have seemed romantic if you weren't stuck here with Scaramouche. 

“Ugh, can you stop hogging all the space?” you snapped, your shoulder bumping into his as you shifted to get comfortable. The hot water was supposed to be relaxing, but with him practically glued to your side, it was anything but. You had both gotten in and sat at opposite ends but with endless yelling in your earpieces from Yae you had bredgrudingly scooted closer. Too close.

“Maybe if you weren't all elbows,” he shot back, “I don’t want to be this close to you, but that devil of a woman is making me.”

“I heard that,” Yae replies from the speakers. Scara flips her off.

“This isn’t relaxing when I can hear you breathing right beside me,” you huff, sinking into the tub.

“Go underwater then,” Scara replies, “I’ll help you.” You swat his hands away, drowning on camera in a three foot tub would end your career and whatever was left of your dignity.

A sudden voice crackled to life over the speakers, startling you both. “Less bickering, more flirting!” Lisa’s voice boomed.

“Tell him to act more likeable!” you shoot back, yelling at where you think the camera is. 

He shot you a withering look. “Me? You’re the one who looks like you’re constipated every time you try to smile at me.”

“Well, maybe it’s because looking at you does that to me,” you snark back.

“I am so dry in the studio,” Yae mourns over the speakers, “Put this tension into something else. Scara, take your shirt off.”

“Fuck no?” Scara yells, crossing his arms over his chest, “What is wrong with you guys?”

Yae's voice came through the speakers again, dripping with amusement. "Alright then, if you won’t take your shirt off willingly, how about you give our dear co-star a hand, hm? Go on, help him with those buttons, Yn."

You stared at the camera, slack-jawed. "You can’t be serious."

"Oh, I'm very serious," Yae replied, her tone too cheerful to be anything but evil. "It's called fan service, darlings. Now, hop to it."

You turned to Scara, who looked about two seconds away from drowning himself in the tub. 

He eyed you, a flicker of something like a dare in his eyes, “Don’t even think about it.”

“They’ll keep yelling if we don’t," you muttered, more to yourself than to him. 

“Put on a show!” Lisa reminded through the speakers.

You sighed. You’d have kept your mouth shut at that damn award show if it meant not having to do whatever this was.

Slowly and hesitantly you reached out, fingers brushing the top button of his shirt.

“You’ll be more comfortable if you loosened your top,” you swallow, your attempt at trying to sound believable.

“Take it off then,” Scara replies against his will, uncrossing his arms and leaning back against the tub.

Your breath hitched slightly, and you could see the way Scara’s lips curved up into a teasing smirk. He was enjoying this. Your hesitation. Your obvious discomfort. He didn’t think you could do it. It made you want to wipe that smirk off his stupid pretty face.

"Fine," you said, your voice steadying, the challenge accepted. You took a deep breath and reached for the second button, fingers trembling just slightly as you undid it. The fabric parted to reveal the sharp lines of his collarbone, and the heat of his skin seemed to radiate into the space between you.

"Don’t get shy now," he taunted, voice low, barely above a whisper. His eyes were locked on yours, unblinking, as if daring you to keep going, “You’re not very good at this, don’t tell me you’ve never undressed someone before.”

"Oh, please," you shot back, “Of course I have,” your tone dripping with false bravado. He knew damn well you’ve never.

He chuckled, a soft, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Keep telling yourself that," he said, his gaze slipping to where your hands hovered over the next button, like he was daring you to take it further. You couldn’t let him win by chickening out. 

You fumbled with the button, but when it finally came undone, your eyes couldn't help but widen slightly. His chest was inked with tattoos—bold, intricate designs that curled and twisted across his skin, disappearing under the remaining fabric. It was more than you expected, more than he’d ever let on in any photoshoot or public appearance.

"I didn’t know you had all these," you blurted out before you could stop yourself, your voice tinged with genuine surprise.

He arched an eyebrow, that ever-present smirk returning full force. "And how would you know anything about me, huh? Are you stalking my photoshoots now?"

You glared at him, the embarrassment making your cheeks heat. "Don’t flatter yourself. I just figured a narcissist like you would’ve shown these off already."

"Shows what you know," he said, "Some things aren’t meant for everyone to see."

Your fingers hesitated over the last few buttons at his words. There was something about the way he said it, like it was a confession layered under his usual sarcasm.

"Then why show them now?" you asked, quieter, the banter slipping into something that felt almost serious.

"Because I like watching you squirm."

You scoffed, more to cover up the way your pulse had quickened than anything else. "You’re insufferable." 

Of course, it didn’t mean anything. He was just as infuriating as ever.

"And you’re blushing," he pointed out, a wicked gleam in his eyes that made you want to dunk him right into the bubbling water.

“It’s the steam,” you grumbled, flicking water on him and scooting away as he rubbed at his eyes.

Lisa’s voice crackled over the speakers, almost giddy with delight. "Oh, now this is what I’m talking about! Keep that energy, you two. That’s chemistry! The audience is going to eat this up!"

You both shot a glare toward the camera, and in unison, muttered under your breaths, "Shut up, Lisa."

You both spent the rest of the hour on opposite ends of the tub.

//

“I want that side.”

“Well, suddenly I want that side.”

“I wasn’t asking, I was just letting you know,” you huffed, already slipping under the covers on the left side of the bed. With a pointed look, you grabbed one of the many pillows and wedged it firmly between you like a flimsy barricade.

Scara rolled his eyes, scoffing at your actions. “As if I’d touch you with a ten foot pole,” he muttered, reluctantly getting into the other side of the bed. 

You both sat there in stiff silence, staring at the ceiling, the awkwardness so thick you could practically cut it with a knife. Neither of you knew what to do with yourselves, like two kids playing a game of chicken to see who'd crack first.

There was a strange feeling in your chest being this close to him. Every sense seemed dialed up to ten, heightened and fixed on one single point. You felt hyper-aware of every movement, every breath, and even every blink. You swallowed unconsciously, the action feeling louder and more awkward than it should’ve. You let out a shaky sigh and wipe your free hand on the comforter, surprised to find your palm slicked with sweat. This was weird, weird, weird.

You heard a soft shuffle next to you, and when you glanced over, you saw Scaramouche turn on his side, his back now facing you. He moved like he was trying to put as much distance between you as possible, yet there was something almost vulnerable about the way his shoulders hunched.

You found yourself watching him longer than you intended, tracking the slow, even rise and fall of his breathing as he settled into sleep. There was something disarming about seeing him like this. He was quiet, without his usual smirk or biting remarks to put you on edge. You didn’t even have to reach out your arm to touch him. Not like you would. But you could.

You slowly turn to the other side, pulling the covers over your head and begging yourself to go to sleep. But even with the pillow wall between you, the warmth of his presence lingered. You felt it like a soft hum through the sheets, the awareness of his touch from earlier still lingering on your skin like a ghost. It was unsettling, the way it seemed to echo long after it was gone. 

Weird didn’t even begin to cover it.

[00:00:00] ONE BED INTERVIEW ONE, TAKE ONE

YAE: [QUIET]

SCARAMOUCHE: Don't piss me off.

YAE: I didn't even say anything!

SCARAMOUCHE: I felt it.

JEAN, SIGHING: Good lord.

YAE: Moving on...

YAE: How was your night with only one bed?

SCARAMOUCHE: Quiet.

YAE: That's such a lie.

SCARAMOUCHE: No.

YAE: Are you going to say more than one word?

SCARAMOUCHE: Maybe.

JEAN, QUIETLY: Oh, my God...

SCARAMOUCHE: What did you want me to say? We watched the stars through the skylight and talked about our fears together?

YAE: Yes, actually.

SCARAMOUCHE: Bite me. We didn't.

JEAN: Scaramouche, if you give us something-anything-you can go back to your room.

SCARAMOUCHE, CROSSING HIS ARMS AND HUFFING: YN is a blanket hog. I was cold and couldn't sleep because they toss and turn like a demon is chasing them in their sleep.

SCARAMOUCHE: They didn't even apologize when they woke up. They just said to quote, "Cope."

JEAN: ... Good enough.

YAE: Cut!

[00:00:00] ONE BED INTERVIEW TWO, TAKE ONE

YN: Why does that little thingy say one bed?

YAE, CONFUSED: This is what you did last night? We want to know about it.

YN: No, I didn't.

YAE: Don't play with me.

JEAN: YN, this all goes faster if you don't lie.

YN, SCOWLING: Don't play with me!

JEAN: Good grief! Cut!

[00:05:30] ONE BED INTERVIEW TWO, TAKE TWO

YAE: [STARING AT YN BEHIND THE CAMERA]

YN: [STARING BACK]

JEAN: Guys, please...

YN: Yeah, okay, fine. I shared a bed with Scaramouche last night. So what?

YAE: Did anything... happen...?

YN: Like what?

YAE: You know like...

YAE: [PRETEND GIGGLES LIKE A SCHOOLGIRL] Kissing and stuff?

YN: Are we five years old? Don't piss me off!

YAE: Scaramouche said the same thing.

YN, STANDING UP: Well stop pissing me off!

JEAN: YN, just give us something.

YN, WALKING OFF CAMERA: I hogged the blankets on purpose to make him mad. Fuck that guy.

YAE, CALLING TO YN: Anything else?

YN: Bite me!

YAE: Scara said that, too.

JEAN: Cut!

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

*slide13: can u bring me back some food

*slide 15: …get him to go to the gym…and scara

also scara uses the wrong your in slide 23 he wud never i’m so tired pls forgive me

title is from that one vine am i showing my age lord two bros chillin in the hot tub five feet apart cus they’re not gay

if you can’t read the qna tweets send me an ask i’ll post a clearer version!

also sorry if u like blueberries it’ll come back later

taglist is closed, comment on the masterlist if i can use ur user as a fan in the au!

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes — im sorry for leaving you guys hanging for two months! hopefully it hasnt been too long where u forgot the plot,, college was really busy for me and i lost all motivation to write,, i lowk got rlly depressed lmao like omg med school is not for the weak!! i had to lock tf in and study but i saw a scara edit on my feed a few days ago and got to inspo to write so pls enjoy this long chapter :) missed u guys!! pls comment if u enjoyed to give me some motivation <33

taglist is closed! — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @jangyung @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @kazuhasbabe

[brainddeadd]

Five Times Quinn Proposes to His Girlfriend and One Time He Actually Asks

1. The Kitchen Proposal It was a lazy Sunday morning, the kind that begged for pancakes and soft, lingering hugs. Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, illuminating the cheerful chaos of Quinn's cooking attempts. Flour dust settled like a gentle snow, and pancake batter splattered across the counter as he flipped yet another misshapen pancake.

“Okay, but hear me out,” he said, his voice teasing as he turned to face his girlfriend, leaning against the doorframe with a bemused smile. “If you say yes to my next pancake, we can call it a proposal.”

She raised an eyebrow, her laughter bubbling up as she watched him struggle. “What does that even mean?”

Quinn held up the golden pancake like it was a diamond ring, winking. “Will you marry me? Or will you settle for this delicious, slightly burnt masterpiece?”

She rolled her eyes playfully but stepped forward, taking the pancake from his hands with mock seriousness. “Only if you promise to never make pancakes again.”

“Deal!” he declared, his grin wide enough to rival the sun shining outside. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the pancake into the air, but it landed on the floor with a splat.

She burst out laughing, shaking her head. “This is why you’re not allowed in the kitchen without supervision!”

2. The Winter Wonderland Winter had transformed the city into a sparkling wonderland, and Quinn had convinced her to go ice skating. They bundled up in their warmest clothes, scarves wrapped snugly around their necks, and ventured to the nearby outdoor rink.

As they skated hand in hand, Quinn felt a rush of adrenaline. The cold air was refreshing, and the music playing in the background added a festive cheer. Suddenly, he paused, a wild idea striking him. Dropping to one knee on the ice, he raised an imaginary ring, his breath visible in the frosty air.

“Will you marry me?” he shouted, his voice echoing amidst the laughter of other skaters.

She stopped skating, her eyes wide in disbelief, laughter mixing with shock. “Quinn! You can’t propose on ice!”

“I can and I just did!” he replied, the playfulness in his tone infectious.

“Get up before you slip and break your knee!” she urged, trying to suppress her giggles.

“Too late! You have to answer now!” he teased, a gleam in his eye.

“Okay, okay! Yes!” she exclaimed, laughter spilling over as she reached down to help him up.

3. The Concert Surprise When their favorite band announced a surprise show in town, Quinn wasted no time in securing tickets for them. The energy in the air was electric, and they stood close together, the music vibrating through their bodies.

As the band played their favorite song, Quinn leaned close, his breath warm against her ear. “What if I proposed to you right here, right now?”

Her heart raced at the idea, and she pulled back to look into his eyes, excitement and disbelief dancing in her gaze. “In front of everyone?”

“Yeah! Just think of the stories we’d tell,” he replied, a mischievous smile creeping onto his face.

She giggled, shaking her head. “You’re insane!”

“Insanely in love with you!” he shot back, raising an imaginary ring over her head like a crown.

The chorus hit, and the crowd cheered, but all she could hear was Quinn’s laughter echoing in her heart, knowing he’d always find a way to make even the most ordinary moments extraordinary.

4. The Movie Night One rainy evening, they cozied up in their living room, surrounded by snacks and blankets. The perfect movie night atmosphere enveloped them as they settled in for a classic romantic film.

As the credits rolled and the romantic tension peaked, Quinn turned to her with a soft, earnest expression. “So, if I asked you to marry me during the climax of our movie, would you say yes?”

Her laughter filled the room, bright and infectious. “Only if you promise to let me pick the next movie! I’m not sitting through another one of your terrible action flicks.”

“Deal!” he chuckled, pulling her closer as they shared a bowl of popcorn. “But I might just have to keep proposing to you until you agree.”

She shook her head, unable to contain her smile. “Good luck with that!”

And as the rain pattered against the window, they knew their love story would be filled with all sorts of playful, ridiculous moments like this.

5. The Game Day On a particularly exciting game day, Quinn’s adrenaline was running high as the Vancouver Canucks faced off against their biggest rivals. Sitting in the hotel room after the game, he watches her face through the screen.

“You know,” he said, leaning closer to the camera, “if I proposed, it would definitely be the ultimate distraction from the game.”

“Only if you promise to be the star player in our love story,” she replied, a smirk dancing on her lips.

“Absolutely! I’ll score goals and love you forever,” he declared, making a heart with his hands, drawing laughter from her.

She leaned in closer to the phone, whispering, “Then you better hurry up and get me that ring!”

The Real Proposal Finally, on a serene Saturday morning, the sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow in the bedroom. The world outside was quiet, the only sound being the gentle rustle of sheets as they stirred. Wrapped up in each other’s warmth, Quinn felt a rush of calm wash over him as he watched her sleeping peacefully.

He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his heart swelling with love. This was the moment he had been waiting for, the one that felt right.

“Hey,” he whispered, gently coaxing her awake. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open, revealing that soft smile he loved so much.

“Good morning,” she murmured, snuggling deeper into his embrace, warmth radiating from her.

Quinn took a deep breath, his heart racing. “I know I’ve jokingly proposed a million times, but this one is for real.”

She blinked at him, surprise and curiosity mixing in her gaze, and he felt a rush of nerves.

Reaching for the small velvet box he had hidden under the bed, he knelt beside her, heart pounding in his chest. “Will you marry me?”

As he opened the box, revealing the ring nestled inside, her expression transformed into one of pure joy and disbelief. Tears welled up in her eyes as she gasped, a hand flying to her mouth.

“Quinn! Is this real?” she exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion.

“Absolutely. I want to spend forever with you,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity and love.

“Yes! A thousand times, yes!” she replied, her laughter mixing with happy tears as she threw her arms around him.

With tears of happiness in her eyes, she whispered, “Forever.”

And at 7:23 AM, under the soft covers, they promised each other a lifetime of love, laughter, and all the ridiculous proposals yet to come. The world outside faded away as they wrapped their arms around each other, knowing this was just the beginning of their beautiful journey together.

[kkukverse]

Down and down

Pair : mma fighter jeon jungkook x reader

Fall, everything

fall, everything

fall, everything,

The muffled screams, the ringing in his ears. The blurry vision and he was sure for a good minute that he was losing his eyesight. If it weren’t for the camera’s flickering lights and the spotlight beaming on this octagon, he thought he was blind. The blow from this McGregor guy took him down, left him sprawling on the red tainted mat. Bloods spluttered everywhere,  mixed with his and the opponent’s sweat. Sticky liquid dripping from both of their mouths as the referee pounds his fist onto the white mat. 

He can see the referee mouthing something, he doesn’t have to focus so hard to know that the referee is counting down the numbers.

“One!” there’s a pause.

“Kook, get up!” from all of the deafening sounds in his head he managed to catch his coach’s muffled voice. 

“Two!” the referee slaps the mat even harder, 

“You motherfu- Jeon Jungkook! GET YOUR ASS UP!” His coach is frantically trying to wake him.

“Thre-”

“Jungkook? Jungkookie? Kookie.” His bruised eyes widen at the sound. It is the most angelic sound he ever heard.

Am I already in heaven he thought.

It’s his most favorite voice in the whole world, the voice that soothes the raging storm in him, the voice that could calm his sea of confusion, your voice. 

She’s here? No. She left. It feels like the time stopped and Jungkook is battling with his inner thought, full of you in it. He slowly raised his upper body before the referee could scream the last number straight at his face.The crowd was a mixture of boos and cheers. In that dramatic moment, his coach managed to ask for a time out. Jungkook was carried by his team members to the corner of the octagon.

Blood was covering most of his body parts, Taehyung wipes them off with cold towels and Jimin was frantically putting balm on his busted lips and on the torn skin above his left brow. Jungkook’s heavily panting for air to fill his lungs and he is still intoxicated with adrenalines. Coach Kim put his hand on both of his cheeks to check if there are any cuts before Jungkook splutters your name over and over again. 

“Is s-she here? Is she here? Please, is she here?” He keeps on muttering something along with your name and Taehyung is shushing him because from the look of it, Jungkook is about to lose his mind and now is not the right time to be that. 

“Kook, she’s not here, but you gotta keep your head in the game.” Coach Kim speaks in a clear voice as he maintains eye contact with Jungkook. With a badly swollen left eye, there’s nothing much Jungkook can see anyway. “I heard her. She’s here, I can hear her voice, she's  calling my name, coach please look for her. I know she’s here” Jungkook pleads at his coach with tears streaming down his face.

“I will look for her, but you gotta finish this fight first” Jimin cups Jungkook’s face. Jimin knows very well that it is borderline impossible to find you at this moment. But if it is what can make Jungkook to keep his head in the game, Jimin wouldn’t hesitate to make up lies.

The crowd erupted again once both fighters were back in the middle of the fighting pit.

The fight continued and ended with Jungkook lost. It was a painful loss, physically and emotionally. All battered and bruised for nothing. He was the boy who is prepared for the battle but never for the lost.

But not lately.

There’s a dreadful silence on the way back to the gym. No one could say a word or even looked at each other. With Jimin patting Jungkook’s shoulder, trying to comfort him, Taehyung can only stare out of the window with Coach Kim gripping tightly on his ipad.

Taehyung peers to look at the blinding lights from the device. 

“The highest paid fighter, Golden Boy Jungkook third lost this season: was recruiting him into the biggest MMA club was a big mistake? It’s indeed a total blow.”

Taehyung scoffed at the stupid headline. The media is so fast to spread nonsense. Absentmindedly, he switched off the devices since the email was flooding in. Coach Kim just let him.

Everyone is mad at the situation, not at the losing fighter. But he seems to be blaming himself by the soft sound of the sniffles coming from him. 

“Kook-ah, it’s fine. We can practice more. There’s always another competition you can win” Coach Kim looks at the poor boy he trained for years sitting on a single seat at the back. This huge tour bus makes Jungkook look so small and fragile in his eyes. 

Jimin squeezed his shoulders, winced as he noticed how stiff he had become.

“You said you will look for her,” came out like a soft defeated whisper from Jungkook. His eyes stared blankly from the tinted bus’s window. It’s almost like a universal joke because somehow it started pouring down. He blames the sky for mockingly crying at him, he hates the night sky for being so gloomy ever since the day you left him.

How could the sky pitied him and yet do nothing when it became his witness on the night he boarded the airplane.

“You know very well she’s not there, Jungkook. You can’t get mad at Jimin, hell, you shouldn’t be mad at anyone especially yourself. You have to stop brooding like this. It happened months ago. Get over it!” Taehyung turns his back to look at Jungkook.

The boy is still staring out. Taehyung is slightly annoyed with Jungkook because he cares about him a lot. 

They fight together, they used to fight each other, they’re each other’s sparring partner. The golden boys of Kim’s Gym and now the rising stars of BigHit Mixed Martial Arts gym. Jungkook was the boy who has the highest winning streaks in a season. Knocking down opponents like they’re made of papers.

Keyword; was.

He slowly went into a slump. As an athlete, slump is dangerous, both mentally and physically. Coach Kim couldn’t force him to practice anymore because he wouldn’t dodge punches and kicks. He lets himself bruised and bleed. Coach Kim thought the best way to get him fired up again is through competition.

Coach Kim knows that Jungkook loves the adrenaline rush, the roaring screams from his fans, he loves it when the referee raises up his hand as he won the fight. But Coach Kim is wrong. Today was his third match and he lost all of them. 

“Taehyung is right. I hate seeing you like this. And I’m sorry for making you fight out of your will. I thought it was for the best.” Coach Kim spoke up to soothe the tense atmosphere. He knows Taehyung means well but he practically raises these three, like he did with his other fighters.

Since they’re the youngest, he has a soft spot for them. The older fighters have achieved a lot, and more mature in handling their emotions. These three are still kids to him. So the moment Jungkook came back that one night, sobbing and broken, he knows something isn’t right.

And he knows he has to be tough on Jungkook. Otherwise, Jungkook will spiral down. Like right now. 

“Jungkook,” Jimin speaks quietly, “Do you wanna look for her again?” Jungkook raised his head to look at Jimin. He gave him a look that Jimin knows so well, his losing hope kind of look.

“I would kill to see her again, but I would die if that ever happened because I broke her, Jimin. How could I see her when I’m the last person she would ever want to see?”

He met you five years ago. In his aunt’s grocery store. You were the new girl in town, the transferred, new teacher at the local elementary school.

The day you walked into his aunt’s store was the day one of his silly hopeless romantic fantasy becoming real. He had this vision of falling in love at the sound of a bell because of an anime movie he watched with Taehyung and Jimin. He rewatched that movie over and over again, imagining finding his true love the way the protagonists in the movie did.

And it happened.

It was a sweet jingle from the bell on the main door of the store, and you walked in wearing a white shirt and faded blue jeans, looking so effortlessly pretty to him. Jungkook thought his eyes were playing tricks with him that day but he swears he can see rays of sunlight following you.

Like a spotlight or it was just him zooming on you. Nevertheless, you were glowing to him. How can he forget that? 

He was busy gobbling down his lunch after he helped his aunt unloaded boxes of groceries on the display shelves. With oil from the fried eggs on the corner of his lips, lips swollen from the spiciness of the gochujang. The bibimbap was delicious but the moment your eyes caught his, the lunch just stuck in his throat, causing him to choke.

He was fucked and it was obvious from the way you were taken aback with his loud cough. He banged his chest with his fist, to control his unstoppable coughing before he immediately ran to the back of the store.

 Gulping down the water, he wanted to cry because your first impression of him, was him, choking on a piece of fried egg because he decided to inhale instead of chewing.

He thought the best way for this to end, is just sitting at the back of the store until you left. He can hear his aunt conversing with you and he envied that. But he is still embarrassed!

While he was busy kicking himself, he noticed the chirping of his aunt’s voice asking you but he didn’t hear your voice, not clearly enough. So he is focusing now, head tilted so his ears can catch the conversation. He acted like a creep and for a second that thought makes him blushed in more shame.

“If you need anything you can just come here and ask. We’re glad to help. What about your belongings? Did you already move them in?” The voice of his aunt sounds like an echo to him. Jungkook was still chewing the bits of meat from the bibimbap. They were a bit tough and might have stuck in his teeth but he didn’t give a damn. Sulking. 

“I only bring the necessary stuff, the one I managed to carry with my car. I have to buy other necessities here though.” Your voice. Holly shit, Jungkook lost it at your voice.

If he is poetic, he’d said your voice is like spring water washing him from head to toe. Refreshing. With no one watching Jungkook grinned like a fool. He doesn’t even know your name. It was literally five seconds ago when he met you. 

“Of course, of course. Do you need help? It pains my heart to see a girl like you carrying heavy things, all by yourself,” His aunt sounds concerned and she has always been that kind of person. The woman who cares about everyone, Jungkook respect his aunt so much.

He took a wild guess, his aunt is probably being mindful about the stuff you bought. Maybe you bought too much than what you can handle.   

“I guess I do need help,” you chuckle. Jungkook thought he fell deep after hearing your voice and now your chuckles are going to be the reason why he will keep falling. Jungkook is daydreaming of hearing your chuckles and he is already making a list of jokes he can throw at you randomly.

He was so sure he wanted to keep seeing you. As you will be a resident in this neighbourhood, he will make sure to get to know you. Just not today. He shivers at the memory of your wide eyes after hearing his horrendous cough. 

Not today, he will make a second first impression to you. In a more gentleman manner. 

“Jungkook! Jeon Jungkook!"

"This boy. Is he still at the back?” His aunt started shouting for him, shattering his plan and his ears. Oh but he’s definitely thinking of your ears first. His aunt has a habit of shouting since she is the boss, that’s how she makes the men move in this store.

Jungkook just groaned loud enough for her to hear him. Remember when he said his aunt cares about everyone? Well his aunt can be scary too. After he realizes his aunt is tutting at the cashier table, he scrambles his long legs to her. 

“Coming, coming. I was eating.” Jungkook whined as he dragged his feet towards his aunt. She knocked his head with a fly swatter. 

“Still eating?! You liar! You already ate! You’re sleeping aren’t ya? Here, come here,” she dragged him by his ear. You chuckle at the view as the two of them looked funny.

Jungkook can’t control how his lips are cracking to form the biggest grin ever at that sound. And wow seeing you up close is far more magical than he had envisioned. Jungkook is definitely taller than you seeing from his one set of doe eyes as he was awkwardly bending down because his aunt pulled him by the ear. 

“Ow ow ow I’m sorry! Stop!” He whines louder. His brain finally sent him the pain signal because he was a little occupied as he looked at you.

You were gazing at him with your soft eyes, and he remembers that he is not wearing his best hoodie today. Jungkook was in his beige baggy sweater, rolled up to his elbows, and black sweatpants. His thick and messy long hair, his pinkish lips, slight oil by the corner of his mouth. He sighed in his heart.

So much for a gentleman’s first impression. But you didn’t give him a disgusting look. Even there’s almost dry sweat patches on his chest, and around the armpits area. You were still smiling sweetly. 

Damn, forget the joke list, if he can keep making you smiling like that, he’ll be the happiest man.

His aunt nudged him and broke him of his own dream.

“You make me look like a fool!” He whispered to his aunt before she laughed out loud. 

“Now, now, is our Jungkookie shy??” She pinched his right cheek.

“This adorable boy is my nephew. But don’t let his looks fool you, he is a mischievous kid.”

“My aunt can get quite excited with people sometimes.” Jungkook smile wide enough before his body went rigid. Shit what if there’s meat stuck in between his teeth?!

What he didn’t know was, you think he is so cute.

Because for a moment he was smiling so bright and then suddenly he zoned out like a puppy. You already think he was cute that day.  

His aunt shoots him a harmless glare before she pats his butt.

“She’s new here. Can you please go and help her carry the things? Be the strong man, Kook,” she whispered in the last sentence and sent the boy a wink. Jungkook scoffed and as if you haven’t heard or witnessed all of that.

His aunt, whom he’s thankful for with every breath he takes. 

The soft knocks on his door bring him back to the present. These days, no, ever since he left for Japan all he think about are you, his aunt, the little town and you, you, you.

“Have you called your aunt yet, Jungkook?” Taehyung peaked his head through the slit of the door. The light breaking into the dark door. Jungkook didn’t even realize he’s been looming in the dark space, he doesn’t even know if it’s day or night.

Taehyung sighs at the tiny hum Jungkook gave him. His little breakdown at Jungkook on the bus last night still makes him guilty. Taehyung knows him better than anyone, and for him to snap at Jungkook like that, he felt guilty. But somebody gotta wake Jungkook up from this state.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung grips harder on the door handle, before he pushes it wide open. Jungkook groaned at the sudden intrusion of light and his friend.

When you’re in the dark for quite some time the lights can be too blinding. 

“Dude what the fuck!” Jungkook barks. Hands hastily pulling up the heavy blanket, hiding himself under it. He hates it. Hate it how he knows he looks pathetic but he doesn’t want to do anything about it. 

“Get up.” Taehyung’s voice is deep and firm. He is so much like his dad. Growing up watching his dad coach fighters, Jungkook thinks this is where Taehyung gained this scary aura. Taehyung doesn’t even flinch at Jungkook’s growling.

Jungkook refused to get up until Taehyung pulled the blanket off of him in one snatched. Jungkook hates it. He feels like he is disappointing everyone and he hates how he can clearly sense annoyance in Taehyung’s sigh.

Taehyung could never feel annoyed by his friends and Jungkook knows that. 

“Kook,” Taehyung softly coaxed him. Taehyung feels like he is suffocating seeing Jungkook all crumpled up, bending his body like a lost little child. Where did his strong friend go? 

“Kook, man you gotta get up,” Taehyung sits down at the edge of the bed. Eyes still on Jungkook even though the man is still shutting his eyes tight. “I apologize for last night, kay?” Taehyung continued.

“‘Kay,” was all Jungkook replied. Honestly, he doesn’t remember what happened last night. All he knew was he lost. 

“Dad told me your aunt called him. Saying she couldn’t reach you. Give the lady a call, Kook.”

“Later,”

“Kook-”

“Anything else Tae? If not, leave me alone.”

Taehyung lets out another defeated sigh. “Yes,” he stands up with his hands inside his pocket.

“We’re going for a run.” Taehyung moves to grab clean sweats and hoodie for Jungkook before he pulls his friend up with all his might because Jungkook is really heavy.

Taehyung must stay positive for his friend. That’s the least he can do. Trying to get his friend back up from a lost battle was never easy and add heartbreak to that too, it is almost impossible.

Jungkook didn’t disobey him because he loves running. He runs all the time. At dawn, or dusk. He runs playfully with his friends, runs for practice, or just simply running and enjoying the scenery.

Tokyo air is very different from his little hometown. There’s no usual bun stall where he can get two red bean buns for free because he always helped the old lady setting up her stall. There’s no chirping and giggling sounds of the school kids coming back from school.

Laughing at him because 'Jungkook hyung is so funny.' 

Tokyo feels so cold and silent. There’s no you��in Tokyo. There's no one to share red bean buns with. Once, he bought four buns to eat with you after his running sessions, before he took you home on his scooter. 

After the first meeting at the store, Jungkook always bumped into you. Either when you’re on your way to school while he is finishing the last lap of his run, or when he was just riding his scooter around the school - hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

That first time, he gave you all of his favorite red bean buns because he saw you walking home. Like many late afternoons, Jungkook noticed you were waiting at the gate with the boy he knows, Daehwi.

Jungkook was running an errand for his aunt at that time. He has no idea why he keeps messing up every time you’re near him. He unconsciously twisted his hand harsher making his scooter almost jump forward. 

Suddenly the slow scooter became the fastest vehicle as he zoomed past the two of you. He can see you flinched before you stand protectively in front of Daehwi, the kid whines as he bumps into your back. Jungkook instantly breaks and he makes a sharp U-turn, to apologize.

Looking at you with his wide eyes and open mouth after he took off his helmet. It wasn’t a big scary and loud motorcycle. It’s the scooter he used when he’s on delivery for his aunt. Jungkook winced apologetically as he can see how you stand in front of your student. 

One hand on your hip, you’re biting your inner cheek to suppress a laugh because Jungkook looks like he is about to cry. Perhaps feeling guilty, for driving recklessly. 

“Jeon Jungkook-” with a low tone, you tried to intimidate him. Tapping your foot. Jungkook is blaming his guardian ancestors because they never helped him. Does he even have one?! He needs one before you hate him, completely.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he dropped his helmet with carrot stickers all over it into the scooter basket, clasping his hands together.

You hum before you move away to show Jungkook the scared little boy hiding behind you.

Jungkook understand that it’s not you he needs to apologize to, 

“I’m sorry little guy,” he pouted. 

Daehwi, the loveliest child who can never stand someone else feeling sad, accepted Jungkook’s apology in the most heartwarming way.

“It’s okay Kookie hyung,” coming closer to Jungkook before he taps on his knee. “But you scared Miss ____, hyung.” The little kid looking at Jungkook as firm as he can though his tiny hand on his knee makes Jungkook almost cooed loudly.

Jungkook’s much larger hand is on top of Daehwi’s little hands. 

Jungkook dropped his shoulders with puppy eyes looking at you. Mouthing ‘I’m sorry’. Your mouth twitched up and Jungkook knew he’s fine. 

You concluded that Jungkook is such a big child. Adorable. Everyone here knows him, he delivers food, vegetables, or anything his aunty tells him to deliver. Diligent and friendly.

The example is here, little Daehwi is so much more comfortable around Jungkook than he is with you. Jungkook is paying attention to Daehwi as he whispers something to him. Eventhough you can catch them very well. Daehwi is just too cute.

“Kookie hyung, can I ride your scooter?”

“Ah, little guy I would love to. But if your mom finds out she’s gonna tell my aunt. And my aunt isn’t really cool. She nags too much.” Jungkook playfully makes a grimace face as if he really can’t stand his aunt. When in reality he loves that old lady like she is his mom.

Daehwi gives a scandalous look at Jungkook, instantly correcting him. “I am not a little guy, I am nine this year, right Miss ___?” He turns to face you for confirmation. “I am big enough,” he mumbles under his breath. Coming closer to him, you fix his backpack that is tilted from him moving so fast to be near Jungkook. 

“Yup, but sometimes, big kids can get hurt too. Your mom doesn’t want to see you’re hurting. I would be so sad if something happened to you, too,” you coaxed Daehwi. He hung his head low but perks up at the mention of his mom. 

“Then hyung, get down! Don’t make Miss ____ sad,” with his chubby fingers he tried to pull Jungkook to come down from his scooter. Tumbling forward, Jungkook carefully gets off the scooter and lets the nine year old lead him closer to you.

The two of you chuckled at his cute actions before realizing that Daehwi placed Jungkook’s hand onto yours while he held your other hand. 

Jungkook feels a gush of warmth on the inside and he can’t think straight. He was holding his breath not knowing how to react with his large hand engulfing yours. ‘Crap, my palms are fucking sweaty’ Jungkook whines in his mind.

Blinking furiously because he wanted to wipe the sweat off but he wants to keep holding your hand. The biggest dilemma in his life.

Neither of you tried to break the holds. Jungkook thought you still didn’t let go of his hand because you don’t wanna be rude but what he didn’t know was you were thinking of how slippery your hands are because of the hand lotion you applied earlier on.

He glanced at you through the corner of his eyes, you were biting your lower lips, trying to focus on Daehwi rambling about his truck toys. Daehwi is telling you and Jungkook that he wanted a scooter toy next time, if his mom allowed him. Like Jungkook’s he says. It was endearing but the two of you are too focused on your hands. 

“Mom!” Daehwi shouted as he saw his mom getting down from the car. Immediately you tighten your hold on his pudgy hand so he's not crossing the road mindlessly. You wait until his mom is closer enough before you slowly let him go, he runs towards his mom’s embrace with giggles. His mom picks him up as she bows a little to you.

“Thank you, I’m terribly sorry for being so late.” With an apologetic look on her face.  

“It’s okay, please don’t be sorry. I am willing to wait for him.” You’re not letting her keep apologizing to you. Jungkook stares in awe at you, who keeps bowing at the mother.

“Daewhi is a good boy, I had fun waiting with him.” You chuckled at the boy, who was tucked behind his mom’s thighs. Whining at her that he is hungry for curry. 

“I better get going. Daehwi, say goodbye to your teacher,” his mom asked him. “And to Jungkook hyung too,” his mom smirks at the hands that are still holding onto each other, with a knowing look she smiles at the two of you.

Like an electric jolt, you and Jungkook let go of each other’s hands. He rubs the back of his neck and you clasped your hands together.

Silently he frowned at the loss of the delicate small hand. 

“Kookie hyung is being safe, so Miss ___ won’t be sad if he gets hurt,” explained Daehwi.

“Oh I’m sure he is safe, baby. Now let’s go home. Goodbye you two.” She said as she gave a witty smile to the two of you.

Silence fills the surrounding after Daehwi and his mom drove away. Jungkook feels the urge to say something but for some reason his throat is clogged up.

“Are you on errands, Jungkook?” You break the silence.

“Nope,” answered without a beat. So much of self control Jeon.

“Can you give me a ride home?” 

“Wha- why?” his heart is beating wild. You wanna ride his scooter. With him! And his stupid mouth asked ‘why’ ???!

“I’m sorry for the sudden request, it’s just that I have a few things to carry with me. Or maybe my legs are slowly giving up because I’ve been standing up for too long today,” you explained shyly.

If Jungkook can shut down the thrumming of his heart maybe he can hear how you’re nervous around him too. 

He was just gazing at his shoes, swaying a little. Waiting for you to finish talking. He thinks you’re gonna hate him for not able to answer immediately but Jungkook was just in the zone, because YOU WANTED TO RIDE HIS UGLY SCOOTER!

It’s not a chick magnet kind of bike like Taehyung’s, it’s an old, beige, boring scooter!

“Only if you don’t mind,” you asked softly, as you thought it might not reach his ears but he snapped his head so fast to you.

“Of course!” His voice sounds a little higher. “I mean, of course I don’t mind,” he mumbles. Hands up, showing you that he is completely okay with your request.

“But I don’t have an extra helmet, never mind, you can just wear mine.” Jungkook mumbles to himself. His hands are busy putting the carrot-stickers helmet on your head when you just stare dumbfounded at him.

Laughing at his action, you hunched over with hands on your stomach. “Oh my god Jungkook. Let me grab my stuff first,” you wheeze.

Jungkook finally realized that he went ahead of himself and you were standing in front of him, with your cute giggles and closed eyes and puffed cheeks, way shorter than him and his hands are still under your chin. Trying to buckle the helmet. His eyes widen at the sound of your laugh. 

“You’re silly,” you wipe the corner of your eyes, a bit teary from the laughing.

Jungkook frowned at that, “I’m not silly. I thought you’re ready to go.”

“How can I possibly be ready when my stuff is still inside?” You let yourself go from his hands that were still cupping your chin. Walking inside to get your bag and a small box of arts materials (maybe you don’t actually have a lot of stuff to carry or you just want to spend some time with Jungkook?)

Jungkook saw you and immediately rushed to help you carry the box. You did tell him you’re very capable but Jungkook pretends he didn’t hear that.

“You can hold on to me if you want.” Jungkook pulls the baby hair, at the tip of his sideburn, a habit to distract himself.

“I would like it if you hold on to me, you’d be safe.” He adds. Eyes straight forward, too shy to look at you, wearing his helmet, his favorite helmet! Lightly tapping your box inside the scooter basket with his free hand.

“Okay Jungkook,” you chuckle. Jungkook heard you huffing as you struggled to tighten the helmet and he without a beat, softly tugging the end of the straps. Helping you out and the close proximity allowed him to be so absorbed by staring at your face, your beautiful eyes, your soft jawline, the slope of your cute nose, the slight pouty lips, your eyelashes. Everything about you is so pretty. 

Suddenly he heard a gasp and his big eyes staring shockingly at you, mouth gaping and all. “You think I'm pretty?” You whispered. 

Fuck! 

A curse comes out of his mouth and he wanted, no, dying, for the earth to swallow him because he just blurted his thoughts out loud and now you know he thinks you’re pretty. 

Worst case scenario? Probably you threw his helmet and just walked home. But you were giving him the million dollar smile. The smile he is getting used to. And then suddenly you uttered the magical words to him, “I think you’re pretty too.” it was a firework festival inside of him. Jungkook is back to his smug face and smirking at your flustered self. 

Giving him a bashful smile, you hop on behind him, arms are shyly snaking around his waist. Jungkook’s heart is soaring high. He is sure you can definitely hear his wild heart beating so loud.

“Here we go,”

“Tae, I need to speak with you,” Jimin whispered to Taehyung as the later man was just finished sparring up with another fighter. Panting while wiping the sweat with an already drenched hand towel.

He jumped down to be close to Jimin. From the look on his face, whatever he is about to say must be very serious.

“Yeah? What’s up?” Taehyung asked. It was a hard practice today and he is still panting.

“I found her,” 

There’s a sudden silence after Jimin uttered the words. Except Taehyung’s heavy breathing. Jimin found you. Taehyung’s jaw clenched at the information. He knows Jimin hasn’t told Jungkook yet, because Jimin told him first.

He doesn’t need to think much, honestly, because out of everyone, Taehyung was the first one who knows Jungkook is in love with you even when Jungkook shyly denied that. He knows how important you are to Jungkook.

With his head hung low, Taehyung threw off the boxing gloves onto the fighting mat. The three of them grew up together. Seeing Jungkook in this condition breaks his heart. Out of everyone who found Jungkook whipped in love, it was Taehyung.

Taehyung becomes an acquaintance with you as you’re the new tenant moved a few blocks from his house. 

Few years ago, when he found out about you and Jungkook, he was relentless at teasing the younger guy. Jungkook used to be very private about his love life but with you, he’s different. He talks about you all the time. Taehyung is sure that Jungkook’s mind is occupied with you.

He tried to swing a punch pad to Jungkook, just to intimidate him. 

It is a known fact that Jungkook never missed a swing, not even from the coach. But Taehyung shouted your name and the punch pad kissed Jungkook on his face. And Taehyung is now 120% sure, Jeon Jungkook is whipped as hell.

“You ass,” Jungkook hissed as Jimin pressed the ice pack on his slightly swollen cheek. Taehyung doubled over with booming laughter and he received a sharp glare from Jimin. He has to halt his training to treat Jungkook. Even though Taehyung is the same age as Jimin, Jimin always acted like the eldest brother. The logic is because he was born a few months earlier than Taehyung. 

“I have a match next week and now I have to babysit you. Be serious for once,” Jimin scowl and Taehyung pokes his sides. He knows Jimin will never stay mad. He is the strongest in his weight class, everyone in the city will shiver at the mention of his name.

But Jimin has the softest heart of them all. Every time one of them is injured, Jimin will go all the way to treat them, even if the injury is from a silly prank. 

“Take care of your body, you said you wanna join Joon hyung in Japan,” Jimin pressed a little harder on Jungkook’s cheeks. Purposely sting him so he listened. 

“I am! Tae cannot stop being an annoying little prick,” Jungkook pointed his hand at the giggling Taehyung. Poking his own tongue on the inside of his cheek. Hissing as he felt a little sore. 

Swiping the laughing tear from the corner of his eyes, Taehyung lay down on the floor. All sweaty.

“Oh our dear Jungkookie and my neighbour.” he teases Jungkook while making a kissy face and a loud smooch echoed in the gym. Jungkook just groaned frustratingly. 

“I will never stop teasing you,” Taehyung sings songs.

His cheeks are flushed red. Hand grabbing a towel to throw at Taehyung. “Shut up Taehyung!”

Taehyung chuckles bitterly as he remembers those nights Jungkook swooning over you, as they walked home from the gym. He always talks about you. You were Jungkook’s girl, everyone knows that. 

He even knows the reason you and him broke apart. He witnessed the night the two hearts of his friends’ shattered into tiny pieces. The night that haunts Jungkook, the night that he carried Jungkook to the gym. Meeting his dad. The night Jungkook decided that he agreed for Japan. 

“Tae, do you think we should tell him?” Jimin asked. 

“We gotta tell him,” Taehyung said with a determined look on his face. That night shouldn’t have happened, and he shouldn’t just watch you slip away from Jungkook just like that. What kind of friend was he?

Silence never really means anything is doing good. Like right now, Jungkook is sitting on the couch after Coach Kim broke the news to him.

Another match. 

After a heated phone call with the McGregor team, Coach Kim called Jungkook to meet him at the gym. Coach Kim told him about the phone call he received just now, the phone call that requested another match with Jungkook.

Coach Kim refused without hesitation, even BigHit agreed with him but McGregor felt like it was an unjust match for him. He claimed Jungkook didn’t give his all and that somehow wounded him.

McGregor said he’s been studying Jungkook over the years, he knows Jungkook won a lot of titles and his skill is the most immaculate. 

He has been waiting to fight him and he did. They had their first match and Jungkook fell lower than his expectation. For some reason he felt like Jungkook was fooling him around. This is why he demanded another fight.

Coach Kim is swallowing hard, because he doesn’t want to hurt Jungkook. He wasn’t purposely losing that day. Jungkook never wanted to win anyway.

Not when he stepped into the octagon, not even when he boarded the airplane. It was already over long before McGregor. In fact Coach Kim is still blaming himself for making Jungkook fight in the match that secured him a spot in Japan. 

Jungkook said nothing as he kept staring at his own feet. Both Jungkook and Coach Kim seem to be lost in their own memories. 

“Kook, I need to prepare you for the next match, in September.” Coach Kim’s voice echoed in the gym as he walked to the boys. The three of them, Jungkook, Taehyung and Jimin are sprawling on the fighting mat after a rigorous training.

Jimin was hellbent on making the other two his sparring partner because he was almost lost to the one of the fighters from Lee gym. He was annoyed. When Jimin is annoyed, he is relentless and punched so hard. Sometimes Jungkook wonders what he eats, for someone his size, Jimin is a beast.

Panting on the floor, Jungkook uses one hand to lift the side of his body, searching for his coach. “September? That’s such a short notice. It’s a few months from now.” He whines.

Thinking about the overload of workout he must complete, he needs to maintain the body weight and still burn calories and all. It is such a fuss because it requires mental and physical preparation. 

“Yea, Jungkook. It’s a friendly match."

"Come here, check your weight. We have to put on weight this time Jeon. Let’s conquer a different weight class, yeah?” Coach Kim sings songs.

Taehyung is laughing at his friend’s misery. He knows how Jungkook has been on this weird fibre diet because he’s trying to lose weight. Taehyung and Jungkook are in the same weight class even though Jungkook is much more muscular. Taehyung knows his dad, he gotta bulk up Jungkook because Taehyung is already dominating in their weight class. 

“Coachhh,” Jungkook stomped his feet. “It’s my first anniversary soon. I wanna go food hunting with ___.” Jimin chuckles as he shakes his head at Jungkook’s childish behaviour.

Being the youngest of the group gets him away with everything. Jimin winced at the thought of having to gain weight because it was such a hell ride.

Gaining weight is much more difficult than losing weight. He knew it firsthand when he had to gain 10kg for a match. It was a torture, but that’s the life of an athlete, especially MMA fighters. 

“If you manage to gain weight, you can easily win with your skill. We just need to sharpen a little on the jabs and your kick. This new weight class will secure you a place in a bigger tournament.” Coach Kim explains.

“Stop whining, all of your hyungs have done it before. ____ will understand, she always understands.” Coach Kim sends a strict glare to Jungkook only to be counter attacked with big watery eyes.

Taehyung and Jimin eagerly nod, proving the Coach’s statement. Taehyung chuckles, knowing that if he pulls out his name, Jungkook will do it in a heartbeat. “Even Namjoon hyung had to gain weight that one time,”

Hearing his idol’s name Jungkook instantly standing next to Coach Kim, wiping the dirt on his butt. Eyes are fiery as he stares at the meal plan and workout plan Coach Kim already made for him. 

“This time we gotta avoid this, okay?” Jungkook pleaded as he pointed at his face. The last time he took a jab and came home to you with a swollen eye. Jungkook told his coach that he wanted to learn a faster shielding skill. So that no one can touch his face. He said you were crying when you saw him looking like a goey ugly fish.

“Can’t afford to make my girl cry anymore,” Jungkook grinned cheekily. Coach Kim just shakes his head at his action.

“Puppy love,” he muttered but Jungkook gasped dramatically.

“It’s not puppy love! We love each other. She’s the one,” Jungkook claimed. How dare his coach teased him like that. You are the light of his life.

She’s the one 

The more the words replaying in his head the more it hurts. It keeps pounding non stop and Jungkook is tired. He misses you. So much. He hates Japan. He hates himself. Why did he go out that night? Why can he just listen to you? Why did he need to go there and beat his opponent to pulp? Why did he let his temper take over him?

“Tell him I gave up,” Jungkook gets up from the couch. He no longer turns around even after Coach Kim keeps calling his name.

“Jungkook boy, you really gonna give up like that? I know you’re a pussy but holy fuck! That kid can’t even punch me!” The boisterous laugh from the tv screen echoed inside Coach Kim’s room.

Taehyung is clenching his jaw and Jimin sends deathly glare at the flat tv screen. The interviews McGregor did live just now shows that he’s been picking Jungkook’s name and calling him out for not wanting to go for a second match. 

Jungkook is eating a bowl of ice cream with no care in the world as he sits in the corner of the room. Not minding how many times McGregor has been calling out his name from the tv. McGregor is sitting too proudly with a heavy gold belt slung across his puffed chest. Jungkook just smirks at the image. That used to be his dream. 

“You just gonna let him shitting about you like that?” Taehyung said in his deep voice. His eyes sharply glaring at Jungkook. He is mad for his best friend.

But Jungkook doesn’t even budge a muscle, except the one in his mouth, he keeps swallowing a spoonful of ice cream. 

“Let him, I lost interest.” Jungkook sighs. 

Taehyung scoffs bitterly at his nonchalant reply. Without thinking straight he let his mouth run on it’s own. “What would ___ say to you now, Jungkook?” 

Suddenly there’s dead silence in the office. Coach Kim raised his head at his son, eyes wide. Jimin holds his breath but he still glances at Jungkook from his seat, curious to see the younger boy’s reaction at the mention of your name.

Taehyung is still glaring at Jungkook, the tension is thick in the air as Jungkook slams his spoon into the bowl before he roughly puts it on the table. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Jungkook’s brows scrunch, he looks so mad, so affected by your name. 

“You wanna know something, Kook? ___ once told me she could never come to your match because she didn’t want to see you get beaten up. But look at you now,” Taehyung’s face is unreadable.

Jimin slowly raise his hand to stop Taehyung but the latter man continued, “You got beaten so bad now Jungkook, not physically, but still, do you think she’ll cry seeing you like this,” 

“Tae-” 

“SHUT UP!” Jungkook launched himself towards Taehyung even before Jimin could grab him, he landed a fistful punch on Taehyung’s cheek.  His other hand is grabbing the collar of Taehyung’s shirt. 

“____ would be sad, just like that night,” Taehyung scoffed with a broken look on his face. His eyes are watery, feeling the sting on his cheek and his heart.

Taehyung is sad for the two of you. He knows mentioning your name to Jungkook will only rile him up. But Taehyung doesn’t want to lose Jungkook like this. 

“Tae, stop.” Jimin pleaded. He is still trying to pull Jungkook off Taehyung with Coach Kim.

“Kook, come on. Let him go.” Coach Kim coaxed him. 

“Shut up!” Tears are brimming in Jungkook’s eyes. Of course he remembers that night. He let Taehyung go before he flopped down on the floor. Bringing his knees close to his chest. Covering his face with his hands.

“Japan?” 

You raised an eyebrow before you got up from his hold to fetch a bowl of ice cream from the kitchen. He was just mindlessly playing with your hair while the two of you catching up the latest episode of Demon Slayer (his request).

It was an usual weekend night where he stayed with you, cuddling, enjoying each other’s company.  As he was getting lost in the smell of your shampoo, sighing happily for having you in his arms, he blurted out about Japan.

“Yea Japan. One of BigHit Mixed Martial Arts Gym is there.” He stares at your delicate figure, wearing his oversized shirt and a short with a bowl of ice cream. Smacking his lips at you, you look so cozy and he is just, in love with you.

It feels like yesterday when he confessed to you and you let him woo you. 

“That’s so sudden,” your voice sounds unsure and tiny. Slotting yourself in between his legs, Jungkook immediately wrapped his big arms around you, while covering himself with the blanket.

“I know. It’s not official yet as I haven’t given them any say. I’m not sure if I wanted to go or not. For now,” he mumbles. Another habit of his. He is usually a very outgoing boy but when he is unsure he tends to hide, making himself look smaller by crouching or when he sits he wraps his arms around his bended knees.

Now, having you in between his legs, he settles with hiding behind your neck. He feels a lot calmer feeling your skin close to his chest. 

He avoided coming home after a match because he looks terrible but he always found himself nuzzling your chest with his hand under your shirt. Your skin, it’s like a safe warm blanket for him.

“Do you want to go?” You hesitantly asked. Eyes still on the screen but Jungkook cannot be sure where your mind is at. 

“I mean, I’ve been aiming for Japan ever since I started taking this seriously. Again, like I said, I’m not sure,” he stressed on the last part. Blinking at you. Why are you not looking at him? Are you upset?

Your hand that isn’t holding the bowl grabbed one of his. Your thumb caressing his skin softly yet your eyes still not looking at him.

“I think it’s best for you to go, right?” You said. Tilting your head and it allowed him to lay his head on your shoulder. He shower you skin with kisses and it makes you let out a breathy laugh. 

“Yeah?” His voice sounds tiny as he is still searching for your eyes. 

“Yeah Jungkook, chase your dream,” this time your eyes are downcast. Thumb rubbing unknown patterns on his skins. He didn’t say another word. Giving up in making you look at him.

He doesn’t feel right. 

Were you upset hearing about Japan? He told you, he, himself is still not sure whether he wanted to go there or not. What he wanted, for now is to be with you. If, let’s say, if he were recruited to Japan, he is thinking of bringing you along.

Truthfully he cannot think of being in a long distance relationship with you. He shudders just thinking about that. He knows long distance relationships are very rare to work out. And he is going to be super busy with matches and practice. Thus which is why he wanted you to come along.

He will try his best to support you, but you're a woman with your own career. He is biting inner cheeks, because he doesn’t know how to break the question to you.

“I feel like I’m a bad influence.” You break the short silence. Jungkook’s mind is still racing with thoughts so he managed to reply to you with a questioned hum.

You tap on the bowl with your fingernails, making clicking sounds with your tongue as well. 

“Stop, you always said that yet you still spoon fed me,” he groans. Wiggling his peeking toes from the end of your blanket. Trying to distract his mind for a while.

Spend the night, he thought. And maybe ask you after next week’s match.

“You always ended up eating something sweet. What about your meal plan? Gain weight class plan?” Your toes are cold against his hard calf. Spoon clicking inside the large bowl of ice cream. It’s silly.

Silly, because it was pouring heavily outside, just after the dinner and here you are eating ice cream together. As if it’s not cold enough.

“Kookie,” you called for him realizing he zoned out. That nickname seems to pull him back to you, making him scoff in disbelief.

“Stop calling me that,” he chuckled before pinching your side.

You giggle. Ever since you heard Daehwi called him Kookie hyung, you’ve been calling him the same nickname too. 

“Kookie,” you pouted. Jungkook is scrunching his eyes, pretending that your acting cute is doing nothing to him. But oh he can never pretend that he is unaffected by you. 

Jungkook playfully clenched his teeth as his legs pulled the blanket away from your legs. You flinch at the sudden feel of cold air.

“Hey!” You screech.

“Serve your right,” he tucked the rest of the blanket securely under his laps, making it impossible for you to have it back. 

“I’m cold,” you shudder. That’s all it took for him to give in and pulled your legs across his lap. Running his hands up and down to warm them up before he covers the two of you under the fluffy blanket.

He feels warm and you’re safely in his arms. Yeah, he will properly ask you to come with him to Japan. As soon as possible.

You feel like your breath is taken away after you received the phone call. Your body slumped over the chair. Mind a little fuzzy and fortunately it was recess time, you were in the Teacher's Lounge when your phone vibrates. It was Taehyung. He said JImin got your new number from Daehwi’s mom and Jungkook has no idea about the call. 

He asked you simple things people asked, like when they had not seen each other for some time. Polite and precise.

‘How are you?’, ‘I hope I’m not bothering you, is it okay I’m calling you now?’. You know Taehyung, he wouldn’t suddenly call you just because he wanted to know about the weather or what not, whether you have eaten yet or not.

So you went straight at him. 

“Is Jungkook okay?” You wanna despise him but you can’t. After all these months of crying and in pain. All of the scripted anger in your head, prepared to be bombarded at Jungkook once he called you, disappears into the thin air. 

Instead of replying, he talked about Jungkook’s loss. You knew, of course you’ve been keeping track of him, how can you not? When he is all over the place. The television, social media, the whole nation is talking about him. Your heart aches even more.

Jungkook has always been so hard on himself, especially when he loses a match. You have been thinking how he’s been coping up so far.

And then Taehyung asked you for a favor. That is what puts you in your position right now.

“Can you come to Japan?” Taehyung asked you. He sounded defeated and with the heavy sighs you concluded that Jungkook’s loss is affecting them all.

“For him. I know whatever that had happened was bad. But, he’s not being himself and we don’t know what to do anymore,” Taehyung continued. “He won’t fight, he has been so aloof and won’t respond to us. Please ____. He needs you,” 

Shutting your eyes tight as you pinched the bridge of your nose, the tears are welling up in your eyes and you don’t wanna cry anymore. But your heart aches thinking about seeing him again in Japan and when that’s the place that makes everything go down in between you two.

You and Jungkook were in a relationship of one year at that time. Like any normal couples, there’s banter and bickering, fights and also make ups. You and him always make up after a fight.

Jungkook would never rest well knowing the two of you didn’t sit down and talked the frustration out. He is a very level headed guy, though sometimes he seems a little childish but to you that’s what makes him, him. But Jungkook has always been the one who apologizes first. Your soft Jungkook. 

But that wasn’t your Jungkook that night.

The night he told you about Japan again, only this time he uttered out his desire of having you there with him. You didn’t know what triggered you at that time but for some reason you chickened out.

The sudden request from Jungkook throws you into the abyss of thought. You’re thinking about your teaching, leaving your parents, friends, building a life in Japan?

These thoughts terrify you. Jungkook said he’d be in Japan for a few years. This is why he needed you there as well. You think that’s selfish. Jungkook will spend his time practicing, and fighting. What about you? You don’t even know Japanese.

So you said no, a hesitated no, because amidst the scary thoughts, of course you wanted to be by his side. Maybe you’re feeling a little tired that day, so you just pushed him away. Or maybe it was the way he asked you. Like he demanded you to be by his side. You told him no, you cannot do that. He got frustrated. And it was the first time he’s frustrated with you.

“You never support my dream,” were the words he spat at you. It feels like venom flowing in your ears to your heart. How could he say that? 

What he didn’t know was you went to his match for the first time. He was so blacked out. Didn’t notice a thing while his chest heaving rapidly like a fish being left out on the dry land. You were a crying mess by his side. Trying to call out for him but he was laying there wheezing out his breath like he’s dying. His face was covered in bruises, busted lips and sweats drenching him from head to toe. Till this day, you flinched every time you heard a bell sound. It reminds you of the time they rang the bell in the arena because Jungkook was so fucked. The match had to be stopped. Taehyung pulled you to the side though you refused, still grasping on Jungkook. You were there and you thought he was going to die!

Jungkook was admitted to the hospital. Broken ribs, punctured lungs, fractures on his right elbow, they had to put metal rods in his ankles. His pretty long fingers - the fingers that glided through your thighs, warming you up at night - they’re broken and the some ligaments are torn.

Coach Kim comforted you at the hospital bench, telling you Jungkook will undergo a surgery to reattach the ligaments.

Jungkook hasn’t woken up for two days. 

You have been sitting by his side, only switching places with Taehyung and Jimin as the two coaxed you to take a shower and eat something. You remember crying in front of Taehyung as he makes you instant ramen. Taehyung was so worried about you.

Telling you the harsh truth that these kinds of injuries are common. What were you supposed to feel at that time? You were worried sick for Jungkook and you’re gonna push through that everyday and wish he comes home in one piece after a match? This is hard for you.

So you told Taehyung you’d never do this again. 

Yet how dare Jungkook said you never want to watch him fight, never support his dream.

After he said those words, he rushed out of the house in anger. He slammed the door and you refused to call him back. He went out and you let him. 

It was past three in the morning and you can’t sleep. Because you’re waiting. Waiting for that silly guilty smile apologizing at your door. Waiting for the buffy boy crawling to your chest as he mumbled out how sorry he was and how much he loves you. You were practicing your version of apologize because you realized you were harsh on him too.

You realized you were not being a supportive girlfriend. Jungkook might feel nervous before he asked you and you just pushed him away. Of course he was frustrated. You waited and the bed was cold that night. 

You were holding your phone, expecting him to call you or anything but when it was vibrating, it was Taehyung.

He told you that he’s going to bail Jungkook out from the police station. All you can heard was 'Jungkook, got into a fight, he beat the fuck out of a man, someone called the police because they were loud, he got locked up' and he called Taehyung for help.

Your stomach dropped. You rushed to get your hoodie and changed your shorts into some decent pants, your hair was a mess and you rush yourself to the police station.

Jungkook was already outside of the police station the moment you arrived. His head was hanging low and Taehyung just sat on the stairs. Looking lethargic because who the heck looks good at this goddamn hour? 

You didn’t say a word as you run to the them, you shoved Jungkook on his shoulder. Pushing him hard because you were so mad at him. Why did he go around and beat people now? 

“What the fuck Jungkook?!” You seethed at him. Still pushing him. Jungkook kept his mouth shut tight. He didn’t even budge, not even when you banged your fist on his chest. You know Jungkook is a strong boy and your little fists can do nothing to him, but you wanted to hurt him so bad.

Make him feel what you’re feeling at that time. You heard him sniffed but you didn’t stop pushing him. You didn’t even realize your face was so flushed and wet with tears. 

“How fucking worried I am!” You shouted at him with a sobbed and you started panting. Jungkook can sense that you’re about to have a panic attack. Taehyung got up to settle the two of you but he didn’t think it was right for him to intervene. 

“Babe,” Jungkook grasped your wrists, wanting to calm you down. 

“No!” You pulled your hands from him harshly, pointing a finger at him. 

You take a good look at his face before you breathed out. “Go.”

The single word was like a hard punch in his gut. “What do you mean?” he knew but he still asked, there’s no way you’re doing this to him.

“You wanna go to Japan, right? Then, just go,” you wiped your face with the sleeves of your hoodie. Your eyes downcast because you cannot look at him. Not when his face was so broken, the sounds of his pleads and sorry’s.

At that time you think it was the only way. 

Taehyung is restless. Jungkook’s second fight with McGregor is in the next hour and he is still at the airport. In the end Jungkook agreed for the second match. Everyone is worried for his state but Jungkook said he just wants to get this over with.

Doesn’t matter if he lost again. He said he wanted a break for a while after this one. That was his only request. Right now Taehyung hopes Jimin can somehow distract Jungkook from noticing that he is gone. 

Your flight was delayed for half an hour and Taehyung is agitating in his seat. The moment he saw you walked out the arrival gate, he rushed to help you but stopped himself after seeing you only carrying a backpack.

He didn’t comment on that as he make small talks with you, walking to the car. He briefed you about the match, preparing you for what you were about to see. Taehyung knows you were still traumatized and he selfishly feels happy for Jungkook. Though you’re scared and your legs are bouncing, you are willing to come today. 

You cast your eyes to the outside views, the car drove past a hectic pedestrian street. You’ve never been to Japan. You were a little fascinated and for a moment you’re thinking of Jungkook enjoying the city.

You missed Jungkook, so much, but seeing him for the first time since the breakup and seeing him at the fighting pit is so nerve wrecking. You’re not sure how you’re going to react.  

“The arena is pretty big. There will be a lot of people. But stay close to me, okay?” Taehyung’s voice breaks your thought.

“Okay,” you anxiously rub your thumbs together. 

“It is scary, but he will be fine,” Taehyung softly said.

“I know,”

Taehyung let out a curse as the two of you entered the arena. Your eyes darted to the center of the arena, the octagon. You can see the ring girl is holding up number 4 as she walks like a sly fox around the stage.

You can see why Taehyung cursed because you missed almost half of the fight. The crowds are still pumped up with loud cheers and booed. Some of them stood up and started chanting names. You can catch Jungkook and other names as well. 

It’s scary and you can feel your heart beating twice harder than normal the moment you drove out of the airport. You can’t see the octagon clearly as Taehyung pushed through the crowd, holding your hand. He brings you close to the team.

Sitting at the front seat. 

Your breath stopped when you heard a grunt and you snapped your head up to see Jungkook swing his left arm at the opponent. Hard. You flinched backward, trying to get away. Your mind is telling you to turn around but your eyes still bore on Jeon Jungkook. 

He is already injured with blood stains on his brows. You frown at the view. Suddenly feel your heart clenched. Taehyung left you at the seat as he ran to his dad. You can hear him from where you stand.

You cannot sit down because all the adrenaline rush you’re feeling in your body is making your heart beats wild. This is just like the first time you went to his match. 

The loud noise, the lights, the screaming from the commentator. But this time, weirdly enough, you feel relieved. Jungkook is up there, and you’re looking at him in his glory. Despite what Taehyung told you, he looks like he is really trying to win.

And you were glad. This is his dream. He gotta win. Of course he will win.

Another uppercut jab from Jungkook on his opponent’s face.

“How’s the first half?” Taehyung asked his dad and Jimin.  

“Hard! Kook beat that guy real hard. Kook is really fighting this time.” Jimin smiles at Taehyung, he lets out a shaky laugh.

“He is fighting, Tae! Does he know ____ will be here? Where is she?” Jimin looks for you in the crowd before Taehyung pointed at you. He is calling you to come even closer. And now you’re literally a few steps away from the octagon. 

Jimin noticed how your eyes are wide, watching Jungkook head lock the other man on the mat and the way you’re clasping your hands like you’re praying for Jungkook. The referee pounded his fist on the mat, and the bell indicates that the five minutes of the fourth round is over. 

Jungkook spits out his mouth guard as he walks to the corner of the octagon, where everyone is ready to assist him. Coach Kim jumps up to give him a bottle of water for him to gurgle out the blood in his mouth, instantly checking up the injury on his face. Coach Kim frantically explained the next move to Jungkook, guiding him for the last round but Jungkook shakes his head. Mumbling that he is tired. Jimin softly grabs his head so he can sit straight, otherwise Jungkook might collapse. Taehyung wipes the sweat on his chest, avoiding the red spot on his ribs. 

You watched the whole scene with a dry mouth and you were blinking away your tears. Like a lost child you stood still by the barriers not knowing what is your purpose to be here.

You heard Jimin and Taehyung calling out Jungkook, lightly tapping his cheeks and you gasp as you can see Jungkook fluttering his eyes rapidly. 

Following your instinct you climbed up the octagon standing shakily behind him. With only the tall steel cage separating you and him, you managed to fit a few of your fingers through it. Not even a whole hand but at that point, that is enough to touch him. Your cold fingers against his hot and sweaty temple. It’s crazy how a simple touch can make you so happy.

“Jungkook? Jungkookie? Kookie,” a sob wrecking through your body when you call his name as clearly as you can. You need him to hear you.

Jungkook snaps his head, turning around to look at the source of the voice. It’s you and he swears that everything inside the arena just turned into a blurred backdrop. His focus is on you alone. 

“____,” he choked out your name, letting your fingers softly touch his cheeks. His long locks dangle on his forehead, wet with sweat and yet he can see you as clear as the first time you walked into him choking on fried eggs.

“You’re here. You’re really here,” he breathed. Closing his eyes as he leans on your cooling touch.

“I’m here. I’ll wait here, but you gotta promise me. Don’t let that guy beat you up. You got me?” You grew frustrated with the cage. Jungkook notices that and his face seems to show the same feeling as yours. He brings himself closer to you and lets his forehead touch yours.

“I promise, stay okay? I need you. I will end this fight, and we talked okay. I need you,” Jungkook chanted and without knowing, your face is flushed with tears. Jungkook hushed you softly as the ring announcer’s voice booming loud, calling the fighters for the championship round. 

Coach Kim, Taehyung and Jimin look at Jungkook. They could see the glint in his eyes and they knew Jungkook would beat the shit out of his opponent. 

Each round is five minutes long, give or take. It will end sooner if one of the fighters is completely knocked out, or when they tapped out. A sign of giving in. To some, five minutes is so short, it’s like a length of a song or two. Five minutes is relatively short.

But in UFC or MMA matches, five minutes can feel like an eternity. Jungkook once told you that in that five minutes, imagine yourself running so fast while dragging tons of weight. Plus, you have to be very agile and precise with your attacks so that you won’t be wasting energy on just yielding. 

To other eyes, the crowd, the commentators, five minutes pass by as quickly as a lightning. Jabs, round kicks, or overhand are very swift moves. A blink and you might have missed it. But to the eyes of the team, the coaches, and the fighter. It’s a slow-motion moment.

They can calculate the next move, figure out the weak points and you can see that too. As an outsider of the MMA world, you can see Jungkook moves in slow-mo as his legs do a sharp snapping motion.

It’s a powerful strike and the sound, it’s like the other guy is getting hit with a baseball bat. Unlike the first time you watched him fight, this time you can see Jungkook in his beautiful glory. And that makes you wipe your eyes furiously. How can you leave him like that?

The other guy is already weakened but Jungkook didn’t falter. This time he trips the opponent by pushing the upper body while taking one of his legs, making him lose his balance and fall immediately with a loud thud. 

“Watch carefully, ____. This is Jungkook’s signature move!” Jimin shouted excitedly to you because the crowd erupted in thunderous cheers as Jungkook executed his moves and the commentators shouted at each other. Telling everyone what Jungkook had done.

Jimin has been eyeing you since the first second Jungkook got up. He can see the awe in your teary wide eyes. Jimin shakes his head, chuckling at you who only turned your body at him but your face is zeroed on Jungkook. He’s not sure you heard him or not but he thinks you did. So he keeps explaining Jungkook’s next move to you. 

“This is what we called Jungkook’s Overhead Slams. See how Kook is closing the gap on that guy with his arms hooked tightly under his knees and look! Look! Kook lifted him up!” You watched with your breath stuck in your throat. Jungkook was so fast and it happens so quick! Jimin is already jumping with his fist in the air.

Shouting “Slam! Slam! Slam!” with Taehyung and Coach Kim. Everyone in his team is already cheering.

“This is when he will slam his opponent! McGregor won’t stand a chance! And he slams!” Jimin screamed with you as the loud fall on the mat echoed and in a milliseconds the crowd turned quiet and suddenly the arena was shaking with how loud everyone was screaming.

The referee runs to stop Jungkook from punching the guy who was laid motionless on the mat. The referee announced that it is a total knockout because the guy is completely incapable of standing up. 

Jungkook won!

He fell on his knees, gasping for air but he turned his head to look for a certain someone in the crowd. The frantic coach and his team members are calling for him and yet all he can see is your small figure in the sea of people. Your glowing features amongst the flashlight. He got up and jumped over the tall cage to you. Landed on his sore feet but it’s you that’s waiting down there. He doesn’t care about the feet. 

You wanna say something. Something like congratulations or good job or whatever but can seem to find your voice. Bet you looked like a clown with a gaping mouth and blurry eyes because of the tears. He beats you first by engulfing you in a hug. Landing his head on your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. Jungkook was over the moon when you hugged him back. 

“You won,” it comes out like a whisper to him.

Jungkook can’t even reply because he feels so overwhelmed. To him it was the first time you saw him fight and won (and wide awake unlike that time when he blacked out). With a frowning lips he lets himself cry. Be damned to all the journalists taking photos of him crying.

The two of you become the centre of attention as the cameras are showing you on the big screen and the photographers swarm up making a circle, taking photos. All you can feel, see and hear is Jeon Jungkook. 

“Oh no,” you pouted at his frowning look, wiping his tears away. He will always be your baby. “I’m sorry,”

He shakes his head, cupping your cheeks and he kisses you. All of those days away from him makes the kiss more emotional, it was soft like and gentle. You are aware of his split lips but Jungkook dives in and he didn’t even flinch. Soon the kiss turns needy as he licks your lower lips and the ring announcer laughs. His voice abruptly pulls you apart. You were a blushing mess but Jungkook just groaned annoyingly.

“The winner, come claim your winning belt first. Let me announce you and then go back to your girl,” the ring announcer teased.

“Stay, stay. Okay.” He said and you knew it wasn’t just staying in the arena after he got his belt. It sounds like he wanted you to stay for a long time. This time you’re not freaking out, you nod.

Giving him a reassuring smile. Ushering him back to the octagon and you can see he bounces with happiness as the referee raises up his hand and the ring announcer screams his name. The two of you will work it out, everything will get better again but for this moment, you’ll stay.

“I need you,” Jungkook mouthed at you. 

“I’ll stay,” you blew him an air kiss.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　SAILOR SONG

matt sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N and Matt have a comfy indoor date; baking together.

WARNING: Making out.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by an anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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'I saw her in the rightest way'

The kitchen was an absolute mess, a delightful, chaotic swirl of ingredients strewn across the counters, flour dusting the air, and the aroma of vanilla mixing with the sound of their favorite playlist softly drifting in from the living room. The afternoon light streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the scene as Y/N stood at the counter, carefully measuring flour into a white-ish ceramic bowl. Beside her, Matt was leaning against the counter, his eyes fixed solely on her, watching her with an intensity that could have melted chocolate.

"Okay, so you just, like, throw the flour in, right?" Matt asked, breaking the comfortable silence, reaching for the open bag with the kind of reckless enthusiasm that spelled disaster.

Y/N’s eyes widened, her hands instinctively darting forward to stop him.

"Wait, wait- Matt, no!" But it was too late. A poof of flour erupted like a mini explosion, covering both of them in a soft, powdery cloud.

Matt froze, blinking through the haze, and then burst into laughter, his shoulders shaking.

"Oops." He said with that boyish grin of his, the one that made Y/N’s heart do a little flip every time.

She tried to glare at him but failed miserably, laughter bubbling up as she brushed flour off her cheek.

"You’re such a mess." She teased, shaking her head, her eyes sparkling.

"And yet, here you are teaching me." He shot back, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Guess that says something about you, huh?"

"Yeah." She said with a mock exasperated sigh. "That I’m a hopeless romantic who thinks you can actually learn how to bake."

Matt just grinned, leaning in to steal a quick kiss on her flour-dusted nose, making her scrunch it up adorably in response.

"Alright, lover boy." Y/N said, shaking her head with a smile. "Let’s try not to blow up the kitchen, okay? I need you to grab the sugar next."

"Yes, ma’am." Matt replied, snapping a playful salute before turning to rummage through the cupboard. He managed to grab the sugar jar without spilling anything this time - progress, she thought with a fond smile.

They continued to work side by side, the kitchen filled with the sweet scent of vanilla and sugar. Y/N would occasionally reach out to correct Matt’s technique, her touch light but effective. Every time their hands brushed, Matt would flash her that lopsided grin that always made her cheeks warm. She tried to stay focused, but with him being so close, so effortlessly charming, it was a losing battle.

At some point, they both reached for the vanilla extract at the same time. Their fingers tangled, and Matt shot her a playful look.

"Hey, who’s the baker here?" Y/N teased, nudging him aside with her hip, her laughter light and teasing.

"I don’t know, I don't see them anywhere." He joked, pretending to search around the room, making her roll her eyes though the grin on her lips was impossible to hide.

They kept mixing and measuring, Matt’s enthusiasm both endearing and chaotic. Just when everything seemed to be going smoothly, he made his biggest blunder yet. He grabbed the baking soda and dumped a generous amount into the bowl, not bothering with a measuring spoon.

"Matt, no!" Y/N gasped, her eyes wide with horror. "That’s way too much! You’re going to ruin the batter!"

Matt looked from the bowl to her, then back at the bowl, his eyes comically wide. But instead of panicking, he simply shrugged and started laughing, his laughter so infectious that Y/N’s frustration began to dissolve.

"Matt, I’m serious." She groaned, burying her face in her hands. "This was supposed to be perfect, and now they’re going to taste like-"

"Hey, hey." Matt said softly, reaching out to gently pull her hands away from her face. "Come here, sweetheart. I'm sorry, yeah?"

Before she could protest, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his warm embrace. Y/N sighed, trying to hold onto her annoyance, but the way he was looking at her - with that soft, adoring gaze - made it nearly impossible.

As if the universe was observing them closely, te next song on the queue started playing, and when Matt realized that it was one of their favorite - Sailor Song by Gigi Perez, obviously - his body started swaying gently, bringing her with him.

"What are you doing?" She asked, trying not to smile, her voice softening as her hands found home against his biceps.

"Distracting you." He said, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Is it working?"

Y/N tried to stay annoyed, but the tenderness in his eyes melted her defenses.

"You are so ridiculous." She said, but her words were softened by the smile that tugged at her lips.

"Ridiculously in love with you." He murmured, resting his forehead against hers. "Can you forgive me?"

Y/N’s heart fluttered, and she let out a soft, defeated sigh, leaning into him fully.

"Fine." She whispered, her voice barely audible over the music. "But you’re still fixing the batter."

"Deal." He said with a grin. And before she could pull away, he spun her around in a quick twirl, eliciting a surprised, joyful laugh from her, her apron flowing around her body.

As she came back into his arms, breathless and giddy, her eyes met blue soft ones, shaking her head.

"You really are something else, Mr. Sturniolo."

"And you love me for it." He replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. He lingered there, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair, the warmth of her against him.

"Yeah." She said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I really do."

With the playful moment fading into a comfortable silence, they returned to the counter, side by side once more. Y/N sighed dramatically, surveying the batter that was now slightly too foamy from Matt’s over-enthusiastic addition of baking soda.

"Okay, let’s see if we can salvage this." She said, her voice taking on that determined tone Matt found so adorable.

"How bad did I mess it up?" He asked, a wince escaping his lips.

"Not too bad." Y/N admitted with a small, fond smile. "We can balance it out with a little extra flour and sugar."

"Got it." Matt said, nodding eagerly as he grabbed the bag of flour, waiting for her instructions.

They worked together to fix the batter, Matt actually listening this time, his focus unwavering as Y/N explained what to do. After a few minutes of adjustments, Y/N dipped her finger into the batter for a taste test. Her eyes lit up in pleasant surprise.

"Hey, it’s actually good!" She exclaimed.

Matt’s face broke into a proud grin.

"See? I knew I could fix it." He said smugly.

"Mm-hmm." Y/N hummed, rolling her eyes playfully. "Pretty sure I did most of the fixing."

"But it was my idea to fix it." He countered, leaning in to press his lips against her warm cheek.

"Alright, let’s get these in the oven before you mess up anything else." Y/N said, lifting the tray carefully.

Her fingers were nimble as she adjusted the rack, carefully placing the cupcake tray into the preheated oven.

Matt couldn’t help but stop for a bit and just stare, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, his eyes never leaving her. There was something about watching her work, so effortlessly absorbed in what she loved, that made him feel as though the entire world had slowed to a gentle stop just for them.

It wasn't his fault. He reasoned to himself. It wasn't his fault he found everything she did so endlessly endearing, so worth watching with that starstruck gaze that his brothers teased him about. The way her brows furrowed in concentration, her fingers dusted with flour, her lips pursed slightly as she adjusted the oven dial; it all made his heart swell.

Y/N stood up, wiping her hands on her yellow apron and closing the oven door with a soft clink. She turned to grab the timer, only to notice the way Matt was staring at her, eyes sparkling with that familiar, dazed expression. He looked as if he were lost in a dream, his gaze so soft it made her heart skip a beat.

Feeling the heat rise in her cheeks, she tilted her head slightly and smiled shyly.

"What?" She asked with a soft laugh, setting the timer up. "Do I still have flour on my face?"

Matt didn’t answer right away, his eyes never wavering from hers. It was like he was in some kind of trance, completely mesmerized. After a few seconds, he finally blinked, his lips curling into a soft smile.

"Yeah." He said simply, his voice so low and gentle it made her stomach flip.

Before she could ask where, Matt stepped forward, closing the distance between them in a few strides. His hands found her waist, pulling her close. Y/N’s breath hitched, her eyes widening slightly as he leaned in, his breath warm against her skin.

"Right here." He dipped his head and began to trail soft, lingering kisses along her jaw. His lips brushed tenderly against her skin, and with each kiss, he pulled a soft, breathless giggle from her lips. The sweet sound made him smile against her cheek, his eyes closing as he continued his path to her chin, and then to her cheeks, where he left playful kisses that were so light, they were almost ticklish.

"Matt." She breathed out, half-laughing, half-sighing, her hands coming up to rest on his chest. Her fingers traced slow circles over his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric.

He paused, hovering just above her lips, so close that she could feel the ghost of his breath on her mouth but not quite touching her. His eyes were locked on hers, and there was a playfulness mixed with adoration in them that made her knees feel weak. He knew exactly what he was doing, teasing her like this.

"Matt." She repeated, her voice a whisper now, filled with a hint of impatience.

"Yeah?" He murmured back, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, her lips twitching as she tried to suppress a smile.

"Kiss me properly." She demanded, her voice barely above a whisper.

'Oh, won't you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor?'

He chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving hers as he leaned in just a fraction more, brushing his lips against hers, still not quite giving in. But Y/N, never one to be outdone, closed the remaining distance, pressing her lips to his in a soft, sweet kiss that sent warmth blooming through her chest.

Matt’s arms tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer as their kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, like they had all the time in the world. Y/N’s hands wandered from his chest to his biceps, squeezing slightly at the firmness there, before sliding up to his shoulders and finally into his hair. She tugged gently, earning a soft sigh from him that she could feel warming up her face.

Their lips curved into smiles as they kissed, each touch and movement so full of affection it made Y/N’s heart feel light. Matt blindly started to sway their bodies again, following the slow rhythm of the indie song, his hands exploring the small of her back, fingers spreading wide as if he wanted to memorize every curve.

Y/N sighed into his mouth, her fingers threading through his hair, and for a moment, it was just the two of them, no kitchen, no baking, just the soft, sweet connection between their lips and the feel of each other’s warmth.

But the intimate moment was abruptly interrupted by a sudden, loud DING! from the oven.

The sound made Y/N jump slightly, pulling away from Matt with a startled gasp. Matt couldn’t help but laugh, the joyous sound filling the kitchen as he pressed one last, playful kiss to the tip of her nose.

"Guess that’s our cue." He said, still chuckling as he gave her a quick eskimo kiss, their noses brushing together.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she gently pushed him away.

"Goofball." She muttered affectionately, her cheeks still flushed.

Reluctantly pulling away, Matt released her from his embrace, giving her one last, lingering look before letting her turn her attention back to the oven. Y/N leaned down to peer through the glass, her hands resting on her knees as she checked the cupcakes.

Matt watched her from behind, unable to resist the fond smile that tugged at his lips. The sight of her brows knitting together as she inspected their work made his heart swell.

"They look perfect." Y/N announced, turning back to him with a triumphant smile.

"All thanks to you." Matt came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. "I love baking with you." He whispered, his voice soft and sincere.

"Even if you’re terrible at it?" She teased.

"Especially because I’m terrible at it." He replied, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Gives you more reasons to stick around."

'And we can run away to the walls inside your house'

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[slut4sugu]

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐃 𝐇𝐂𝐒 (𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.)

a/n: im back my loves! I’ve been rewatching criminal minds and omg I love how soft Spencer is he’s just adorable bro. Also JJ with bangs? (She can get it too honestly) Mentions; of sub!spencer, dry humping, cunnilingus, sweet but nasty Spence <33

isn’t the best with explaining his feelings for you not in a nerdy way but is a poet when it comes to words of affirmation; ever time Spencer sees you look so beautiful, so ethereal he just randomly pouts out a poem that can barely come close to describe the amount of love he has for you in that moment <33

I’m a strong believer in the fact that Reid has a little decor around his apartment for when Halloween rolls around; and is beyond happy when he comes home from a case to find that you’ve went a the extra mile and decorating it a bit more for him <33

Memorizes your cafe orders; so on his off days he’ll wake up before you to surprise you with a muffin and your favorite tea/coffee

is usually the big spoon in bed; however if he’s had a challenging week he’ll just silently curl into your side pressing kisses to you neck as he murmurs a “thank you love.”

whines into kisses & grinds his hips into yours while doing so; Spence is weak for you that much is certain. Your voice is as smooth as silk and your touch never fails to ignite a fire on his skin. But your kisses are pure aphrodisiac, you effortlessly pull moans from him like it’s nothing. “You’re so cute Spence, so you want me to touch you?” “Please angel.”

cannot leave without his goodbye kiss and an I love you; one time you decided to mess with him and kiss him goodbye without saying I love you. After not hearing you say it back he poked his head back in your shared bedroom and loooked at you confused. “I love you?” “Mhm, have a good day sweetheart.” Now he’s pouting, “..did I do something wrong?” Now you have to pepper his face with kisses and tell him you love him multiple times so he can leave.

whenever he’s gone for a couple days for a particular hard case he’ll send you flowers, and sends you text messages; to check the new book you’ve read. Which leads you to find a sweet love letter. Promising his safe return and that he’ll make up for lost time <33

loves baking and cooking with you; know we all know Spencer can’t cook worth a damn, so his job in the kitchen is maintaining the mess you tend to create while making brownies and ofc pressing kisses to your shoulder as you mix the batter

eats you out slowly when he’s sleepy but horny; it’s so hot but so agonizingly slow. Even the way his tongue flicks against your clit feels slow, once he hears your begs and whines he’ll speed up a bit. Slowly starting to get more into it than you are, pulling you by your thighs to get close to his tongue. Lapping up your cunt is an art form to Spence, and all art deserves to be appreciated <33

tells Garcia and Morgan about you; he intends not to rant but once he pictures your sweet smile in his head he’s a goner. Now he talking about your mannerisms and how you always cover your smile with your hand because your self conicous about it, but he finds your smile so beautiful..

when he gets jealous he pouts slightly; he manages it relatively well but the initial time a guy looks at you too long or has that look on his face, Spence does that little confused pouty thing slightly before making it clear your happily taken.

Spence is HELLA touchy; cannot go 2 minutes without touching you. In the car? Hand on your thigh, sitting on the couch together? Your thighs gotta be on his lap. One way or the other

Happily spends his money on you; spence absolutely loves spoiling you, and every anniversary he makes a habit of buying you a dress. Not overly pricey but just enough in the 200-300 range. each anniversary he goes a little bit higher and higher or if you found a dress you really like hell buy you jewelry. But once you guys hit one year? He goes all out <33

uses your lotions and shampoo on occasion; being away from you for hours on end can be tough at some times so Spencer makes a habit of buying smaller samples of your vanilla or strawberry scented products. Smell of sweet candy and cookies like helps ease his mind when he’s away at work.

Honorable mentions

princess twirl/hugs when he comes back from a long case

loves going on library dates with you

says I love you every time before doing down on you <33

[ghxst-guts]

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔

living a farmer's life with wanda

𐙚 wanda would start off every morning by brushing your hair. then you'd go off and feed your little bunnies.

𐙚 you were so adorable, the best part of wanda's morning was seeing how much joy your little pets brought to you.

𐙚 another thing which brought wanda joy was going flower picking with you. she'd dress the two of you in sundresses, braid your hair and put bows in them. god you looked so cute like that.

𐙚 the way your eyes would perk up when she found your favorite blue flower. or how'd you close your eyes, bring the flowers to your nose and just take in it's scent.

𐙚 one particular morning, wanda woke you up with blueberry pancakes, which was also your favorite. you woke up to her mixing the pancake batter.

𐙚 you were so darn sleepy, practically balling your fists towards your eyes. "ah. ah. ah." wanda shook her head, putting the bowl with mix down. she gently grabbed your hands and hummed softly.

𐙚 you took this as a sign to koala bear wrap yourself over her. she let out a quiet chuckle and brought her lips towards your forehead.

𐙚 which is what led you to your current situation. wanda had gone to the market and your tummy started to growl. wanda left you a note while you were asleep, saying she'd headed to the market because you were out of bread.

𐙚 you were not at all a good chef like wanda was. covered in flour from when the bag exploded on you and not knowing wanda's recipe, you were doomed from the start.

𐙚 the door knob rattled. oh no, wanda was home. she couldn't see you like this, you ran to your shared bedroom.

𐙚 'babydoll?" wanda spoke, her eyes scanning the room for you. she left the grocerys down by the door and her eyes met the mess you left in the kitchen. ah, now she sees what happened.

𐙚 she follows your flour footprints which led to the bedroom. "hey bunny, i'm back. are you hungry? did mommy forget to make you food before she left?" wanda tried to coax you out of the room.

𐙚 you sighed, opening the door. "oh baby... want mama to help you get cleaned up then fix you a bite to eat? does that sound good, my sweet girl?" wanda cooed, bringing a thumb up to your cheek. It swiped the layer of flour left on your cheek.

wanda's masterlist

[goldfades]

sweet on you thoughts - BDAY EDITION!!!!!!

Joe’s 28th birthday starts quietly—just the way he likes it. You wake up before him, slipping out of bed with Hayes perched on your hip, his little face still puffy with sleep. Together, you sneak down to the kitchen, Hayes giggling softly as you shush him, even though Joe’s a deep sleeper.

Breakfast is the first order of business. You let Hayes “help” which means more batter ends up on the counter than in the waffle maker. But you don’t mind—it’s all part of the fun. When Joe finally makes his way downstairs, rubbing sleep from his eyes and looking impossibly cozy in a hoodie and sweatpants, Hayes shouts, “Daddy!” like he hasn’t seen him in days.

Joe’s face lights up in that way it always does when he sees Hayes, like his whole world just walked into the room. He scoops him up and kisses his cheek, pretending not to notice the sticky syrup on Hayes’ fingers. “What’s all this?” Joe asks, grinning at the spread of waffles, eggs, and fruit on the table.

“It’s your birthday breakfast,” you say, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Hayes picked the sprinkles for the waffles. Very on-theme, don’t you think?”

Joe laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Perfect. Just like you two.”

The day unfolds with a mix of little surprises. Hayes insists on “helping” Joe open his gifts, even though it’s mostly an excuse to play with the wrapping paper. You got Joe a sleek new Rolex he’s been eyeing, but it’s Hayes’ handmade card—scribbles and all—that nearly brings him to tears.

“Best card I’ve ever gotten,” Joe says, his voice thick as he pulls you both in for a hug.

In the afternoon, you drive out to a nearby park, one of Joe’s favorite spots to unwind. You pack a picnic, and while Joe tosses a tiny football around with Hayes—more of a game of chase than catch—you take a moment to just watch them. Joe’s laughter carries on the breeze, and Hayes’ squeals of delight echo back. It’s one of those moments that feels almost too good to be real.

That evening, after Hayes is asleep—worn out from the excitement—you and Joe share a quiet moment on the couch. You have a slice of leftover cake on a plate between you, and his arm is slung lazily over your shoulders.

“Best birthday yet,” Joe murmurs, his lips brushing your hair. “Thanks for making it perfect.”

You smile, resting your head against his chest. “We love you, you know.”

Joe doesn’t say anything, just squeezes you a little tighter. You can feel it in the way he holds you, though. He knows.

joe kept calling hayes his “birthday buddy” all day, even though hayes doesn’t fully get it yet. still, every time joe said it, hayes giggled like it was the funniest thing in the world.

at the park, joe carried hayes on his shoulders and pretended to be a horse, neighing dramatically. you caught it on video, and joe begged you not to post it. “my teammates don’t need to see this,” he said, but you know he secretly loves how much hayes laughed.

hayes kept saying “dada’s day!” all afternoon, completely unprompted, and joe nearly melted every time.

joe let hayes “help” him blow out the candles on the cake, and they both got frosting on their noses in the process.

when you asked joe what his favorite part of the day was, he didn’t even hesitate. “waking up to you and hayes,” he said, like it was the easiest answer in the world.

as you were cleaning up after dinner, joe snuck up behind you, wrapped his arms around your waist, and whispered, “you and hayes make every day feel like my birthday.”

hayes fell asleep clutching one of joe’s birthday cards, and joe sat by his crib for a while, just watching him sleep, like he couldn’t believe how lucky he was

masterlist! thank you for reading <3

[1-800-cheolie]

baby fever - part 1 ; part 2

word count: 487

side note: thank you for all the love :D it makes me so happy people loved my first and second part so here’s a third to all my pookies out there, mwah.

it’s your day off. fighting villains everyday weren’t ideal, not to mention how exhausted you are from such a long shift. the moment you arrive home, your body gave out.

as you doze off, noises clatter in the kitchen. your husband and 2 year-old son are in the kitchen, doing as they please.

katsuki understands being a mother, a wife and a hero altogether can take a toll on your body, hence why they’re creating a mess right at this very moment—not that you needed to know.

your husband knows how pouty you can be when it comes to huge messes in the kitchen.

“look at me, dada! look at me!” daiki chirps, standing tall on the other side of the counter, across from his father. “i mixed the ‘nana (banana)” his little grin causes katsuki to chuckle at the sight of his son covered in pancake batter.

“good job, little man. mama is going to be so proud of you. let’s get you all cleaned up” your husband proceeds to hoist up daiki, unknowingly slipping on a banana peel. the one daiki tossed onto the floor.

the both of them go tumbling. katsuki landing right on his back with daiki wrapped securely in his arms as a pained grunt spews right out of his mouth. he curses under his breath, staring down at a giggling daiki. pancake batter drips down his shoulders. his hair has been flattened, drenched from head to toe.

daiki points at his father’s hair. “uh-oh. hair color same as ‘nana”

“ya think yer funny, huh?” katsuki tuts.

“nu-uh. I t’ink dada is funny!”

you snort from the hallway. arms crossed with an amused smile spreading across your lips. No wonder you heard so much clinking, your boys were making breakfast. “it takes two to tango” katsuki swears his soul takes a flight at the sound of your voice. you were sound asleep when he last checked.

“hi mama!” daiki zooms out of his father’s lap, jumping right into your arms. “i mixed ‘nana wit’ dada!”

“good job, baby. i’m so proud—“ whoosh. you don’t get the chance to finish before katsuki leaps his way over, causing all three of you to slip backwards as a squeak erupts from the back of your throat. “—katsuki!”

“mhmm, that’s my name, sweets. i suppose we all have to bathe together now” he mumbles into your neck. you make a face and katsuki doesn’t have to know what kind of expression you’re making, because he can feel your face muscles shifting in their spot.

“nice try, katsuki. you too, daiki. get up and start cleaning” you watch as they both pout.

sometimes, you wonder how strong your husband’s genes are—they were just too similar. you couldn’t help but chuckle. “i’ll re-make the pancake batter and add in your favorites in return” they were immediately up and ready, saluting you.

home is where your boys are.

[dovesdreaming]

Domestic life

A morning spent with Deadpool involves corny jokes that are full of love

Warnings: none

-

You’d never imagined that your life would take such a wild turn. Growing up, you were the quiet one, the person who preferred books to people and silence to chaos. So how on earth you ended up in a relationship with Wade Wilson, Deadpool of all people, was still a mystery. But here you were, standing in your tiny kitchen, watching as Wade made a mess of what was supposed to be breakfast. Pancake batter was splattered on the walls, and he was wearing his signature red and black suit, minus the mask, with an apron that read Kiss the Cook. “Wade, you’re getting pancake mix everywhere” you said softly, trying to hide the smile that was tugging at your lips. “Babe, if I’m not making a mess, am I really cooking?” Wade quipped, flipping a pancake with a flourish. It sailed through the air and landed on the floor with a wet splat.

You bit back a laugh, shaking your head as you bent down to pick up the rogue pancake. “I think you’re supposed to use a pan, not the floor”. Wade grinned, not even slightly fazed by his culinary failure. “What can I say? I’m a rebel. Besides, we both know you like it when I get a little messy”.

Your cheeks flushed at his words, and you turned away, hoping he wouldn’t notice. But of course, he did.

“Oooh, there it is,” Wade teased, abandoning his pancake massacre to come over to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you close and resting his chin on your shoulder. “That adorable little blush. My favourite”. You squirmed in his grip, but there was no real effort behind it. As much as Wade could overwhelm you with his relentless energy and constant quips, you couldn’t deny how much you loved the way he made you feel. special, seen, loved.

“Wade,” you mumbled, feeling your face heat up even more as he nuzzled against your neck, planting playful kisses along your skin. “Wade what?” he murmured against your ear, his voice low and teasing. “Wade, you’re the most amazing boyfriend ever? Wade, I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you? Wade, your pancakes are terrible, but you’re still the love of my life?”. You laughed despite yourself, leaning into his embrace. “Maybe all of the above”. “Damn right”

he said with a grin, spinning you around to face him. His eyes softened as he looked at you, and for a moment, the chaos that was Wade Wilson faded into something much gentler. “You know I’m crazy about you, right?”. The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and you nodded, your shyness returning in full force. “Yeah… I know. I’m crazy about you too, even if you drive me insane”. Wade’s grin widened, and he pulled you in for a kiss, one that was surprisingly tender considering it was coming from him. You melted into it, feeling the warmth of his affection wrap around you like a blanket, shielding you from the outside world.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m never letting you go, you hear me?”. Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing gently over the scarred skin. “I’m not going anywhere, Wade”. He smiled, a real, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Good. Because I don’t know what I’d do without my favorite shy little love muffin”. You couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculous nickname, shaking your head. “You’re impossible”. “But you love me,” Wade said, leaning in for another kiss, his lips brushing lightly against yours. “I do,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but the words carrying all the weight of your feelings.

And as he kissed you again, you realized just how much Wade had changed your life. He brought chaos into your world, turned everything upside down, and yet… you wouldn’t have it any other way. Because despite the craziness, the mess, and the constant stream of quips, Wade made you feel like the most important person in the universe. And in the end, that was all that mattered.

[wandascosmic]

Could you write just a cute fic where Wanda and reader do a bunch of autumn season activities. Like Wanda loves to bake so she makes some halloween themed desserts with the help of reader (who in reality just makes a mess and eats all the ingredients).

Wanda would also probably be the type to just want to take a walk because she likes seeing the trees that change color, and of course reader wouldn’t listen when Wanda told her to dress warm so Wanda sacrifices her scarf or hat or both for her to wear instead.

Then for halloween all the avengers could dress up in costumes to hand out candy to the kids, and reader would convince Wanda to do a couples costume.

autumn appreciation (request)

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: in which you and your girlfriend make the most of the wonderful autumn season.

word count: 965

tags: unedited, fluff, domesticity, idiots baking together, our favorite couple going for a walk, couples costume!!!, kids trick or treating at the avengers compound, we love halloween so much

“Hey, Nat, have you seen Wanda?” you ask the assassin in the compound. 

Nat shrugs. “I’m pretty sure she’s making ghost cookies, pumpkin cookies, and a witch-shaped cake on a broom. Which is odd because couldn’t she just make a self-portrait–”

“Got it, thanks Nat!” you cut her off, running in the direction of your girlfriend. 

Stopping in the kitchen, you grin at the sight before you. Wanda was in deep focus, mixing a bunch of cake batter in various bowls, trying her best to bake to perfection. However, she was covered in flour, food coloring, and every baking ingredient you could think of had somehow stained her apron. 

“Witchy,” you greet, walking over towards her. 

“Y/N!” Wanda’s eyes light up before you as she makes her way over, giving you a tight hug before you could protest. 

“Wands,” you say, as Wanda refuses to let go. 

“Hm?” Wanda hums. 

“You’re covered in every baking ingredient in America,” you say, snickering. 

Wanda gasps, immediately letting go and seeing your shirt stained with everything that was on her apron. “I’m so sorry, detka! I’ll go get you a new shirt and change this apron– I didn’t even realize–” 

“Wands, don’t worry,” you cut off. “You’re not really baking if you’re not covered in head to toe in flour and confectioner’s sugar.” 

Wanda grins in response.

“Besides, I came over here to help you, since it looked like fun and I haven’t seen you yet today,” you reassure. 

“Oh!” Wanda says excitedly. “Yes, that would be so much fun. Okay, so I need some help with the ghost cookies since the frosting is a little tricky cause it’s a different kind than the pumpkin ones, so let’s do that!” Wanda grabs your hand and begins to lead you to the kitchen.

You grab a measuring cup and start getting to work per Wanda’s instructions. 

Two hours later, you and Wanda are still hard at work. 

“Detka, I think the kitchen is even messier with you than when I started. And that’s saying something since it looked like a flour bomb had gone off in front of me,” Wanda giggles. 

“Hey, you put me to work, woman,” you say, grabbing a piece of cookie dough and munching on it. 

“And you’ve mostly just eaten our ingredients.” 

“You put candy in front of me, you can’t expect me not to eat it,” you shrug. “Plus, we’re basically almost done now! We’ve just got to put everything in the oven.” You grin. “What do you say to your wonderful girlfriend?” 

“Don’t eat all the marshmallows next time?” Wanda retorts with her arms crossed. 

You give her a look, causing Wanda to finally let her smile shine through. 

“Fine, thank you, I love you,” Wanda gives you a kiss. 

“I love you too, my grumpy Sokovian witch.” 

And by the end of the day, every treat you and Wanda had worked so hard on has been eaten by a member of the compound.

*** “Baby,” Wanda shakes you lightly on the couch as you sleep on top of her chest. 

“Hm?” you hum sleepily. 

“Let’s go for a walk,” Wanda says. 

“Why?” you ask, looking at Wanda confusedly. “We rarely take walks.” 

“That’s why we should start!” Wanda responds. “I want to see the leaves change color, please,” Wanda stretches out the last syllable and gives you a pleading look. 

“Fine,” you agree reluctantly. 

“Thank you!” Wanda says, giving you a kiss. “I’m gonna grab my coat, you grab yours too since it’s cold.”

But, of course, you don’t listen to your incredibly smart girlfriend.  

Two minutes into your walk, in which Wanda’s already gushed about seven yellow trees, eight red trees, and five orange trees, you’re completely freezing, and trying your best to hide your shivers. 

But, of course, Wanda notices. 

And silently, Wanda wraps her scarf around your neck and gives you her hat, pulling you into your arms as you continue your walk down the beautiful trail. 

***

“Wanda, come on, it’ll be fun!” you argue, the morning of Halloween. 

“I don’t know,” Wanda says reluctantly as you show her the peanut butter and jelly costume you had bought for the two of you. Wanda was going to be the jelly, of course. 

“Please, witchy?” you give her your best pleading look to which Wanda’s incapable of saying no to. 

“Fine,” Wanda agrees. “But you owe me,” she says, grabbing the costume and going into the bathroom to change. 

“You got it,” you agree, yelling past the door. 

The kids love yours and Wanda’s costume, every single child who’s rang the doorbell and said trick or treat has pointed out your costume, making Wanda blush every time. 

“Trick or treat!” the last group of kids said in unison as Steve opened the compound door. 

“It’s the Avengers!” one of them remarked. 

“You guys are so cool,” another one said. 

“Hey, you guys are the best couple!” a girl, about five years younger than you pointed at you and Wanda. “I love you guys so much.” 

“Aw, we love you,” you respond, giving her a few extra pieces of candy as well as her friends. 

The kids take a few pictures with a couple of you, and you wave as they leave, “Have a great evening!” you call out.

Closing the door, Steve turns to you all, “I think we’re good for tonight, goodnight everyone,” he says, heading off in the direction of his room. 

You turn to Wanda with a grin. “So, wasn’t the costume worth it?” 

“I look ridiculous,” Wanda retorts. “But, unfortunately, anything for you, detka.” 

“I’ll return the favor next year,” you tell her with a kiss. 

“You better,” Wanda says, wrapping her arms around your waist as you both head off to bed together.

[prettiestgrlinthemorguexo]

Made with love (Alastor x Baker! reader)

Description: Y/N invite their boyfriend Alastor to bake, of course he’s takes his own twist

This is inspired of a TikTok by @matineaux

Thank you thank you thank you @witchywriter18 for the idea!!

Warning: tooth rot fluff, established relationship, Alastor being Alastor, mentions of murder and cannibalism, polar opposite pairing

⛧☾w༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

No ones POV

Y/N and alastor had been going out for a little over a year. Y/N met Alastor after Charlie employed you as head chef claiming “the best way to the heart is through the stomach.”, even though their personal talent was baking she happily took the job. Cooking and baking food for their good exercises along with breakfast, lunch and dinner. Most of the food request were normal…expect one.

Alastor was a cannibal, so they couldn’t blame him, they tired to do what they to make him his meals…but he seemed to always be appreciative of their efforts. Cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner, Y/N was nearly always in the kitchen, after a few weeks of getting to know Alastor, he seemed to always appear in the kitchen, starting conversations which Y/N happily did even sometimes helping them prepare food, everyone knew he had a soft spot for them, after the extermination and Alastors brush with dead, made them not realize they liked each other. They were complete polar opposite pairing but they loved each other’s.

Both had their own responsibilities to attend to put always made time for eachother, if it be Y/N sitting in this little radio tour while he on air or having a conversation while you cooked. But Y/N’s favorite was their baking sessions. Alastor knew they loved to bake so he happily help them. Today was one of those days.

Y/N invited Alastor to bake with them after his daily broadcast, they had to prepare vegetables for tonight dinner during his broadcast, so they sadly couldn’t join him, while Y/N was preparing the baking tools and the ingredients, they felt a new familiar presence in the room, they smile and turn to see Alastor nearly looming over then due to his sheer height. “Hello my dear!” Alastor said happily to them as he kissed the top of their head.

Y/N smile at the show of affection, which in private was more than around the others. Alastor lend down to Y/N’s eyes level and cocked his head to look at the tools and ingredients. “Now what are we making today?” He asked curiously.

Y/N smiled putting on an apron, “Nifty asked for “cute cookies”, so we’re making heart shaped cookies for her.” Alastor somehow was able to smile wider at your words, Nifty was an important person to Alastor. “Sounds delightful? Where do we start?” He asked happily. Y/N knew he knows, the helped them bake cookies before.

Alastor love to help with the little things, if it be mixing cookie batter. Today since the cookies were heart shaped, Alastor was of course helped were is was needed. Once the two big pieces of dough was flat. Y/N open their knife drawer handing this a small knife, “you can cut a heart shape right Alastor?” Y/N asked jokingly taking another identical knife for themselves. “Of course my dear, I am a cannibal after all!” Y/N laughed at this word as they started to cut out little hearts.

After a bit Y/N was finally done, they slowly pealed off the dough around the heart revealing about a dozen of cookie hearts. “Done!” Y/N said as they threw away the extra dough. “How’s its coming love?” Y/N asked Alastor as they walked over to him. “Just finished.” Alastor said without batting an eye as he removed the extra dough. As Y/N peaked over his arm to see…hearts, but not normal hearts, they were human hearts.

Y/N batted their eyes at it for a moment before looking and seeing Alastors eyes. “Thoughts?” Alastor asked smiling wide. Y/N looked at him for a moment before smiling warmly. “They’re perfect..they remind me of you.” They said with a small laugh as they moved the cookies onto a pan and into the oven.

After they were done and cooled down. Y/N walked out of the kitchen with a tray of cookies, Alastor following close behind. “Ohh niftyyy~” Y/N Sang out. Soon Nifty was rounding the corner fast. “AHH, YOU MADE THEM!” Nifty screaming as she ran up jumping for the tray. Y/N laughed as they got on one knee showing her the tray of cookies, they were a mix of normal hearts and human hearts shapes. Nifty looked at them for a moment blanco faced before giving me a sinister smile. “THERE PREFECT!!” She screamed as she snatched the stray running away.

Y/N stood to their feet watching her scurry away quick before turning to face him, “she seems to like them huh Al?” Y/N said with a smile. “Of course she does!,” Alastor said with a smile as he took their hand, giving in a small squeeze. “You made them with love..”

Tag list

@reverse-soe @kazurami14 @netheris @musicb33nsstuff @rainycloud858 @yaimlight @erissco @pooplyface1423

[dear-ao3]

how to make pancakes more filling and taste better

so pancakes are actually way way easier than everyone thinks they are and they are very very easy to change up as long as you know how to

the things that you don't fuck with are the amount of flour, oil, egg, milk and baking powder/soda. as long as you stick to that on any recipe you can change pretty much anything else or substitute.

generally recipes are 1 egg to 1 cup of flour. a 1 cup flour 1 egg recipe usually serves 2 and you can double the recipe for 4, etc.

you can also substitute up to half of the four in a recipe for whole wheat flour without changing the leavening measurements. you can do the same for adding in protein powder, just adjust the sugar accordingly if its sweetened protein powder.

so, this is my favorite basic buttermilk pancake recipe, it makes about 10 pancakes:

1 1/4 cups flour 1/2 cup old fashioned oats 1-1 1/2 tbsp some kind of sweetener (brown/white sugar or maple syrup/agave syrup all work well but there's other options) 1/2 tsp baking soda 1 egg 1 1/4 cup buttermilk 1 tbsp oil of choice (butter or coconut oil generally) 1/2 tsp salt

this is the bones of the recipe. the sweetener is adjustable based on how sweet you like your pancakes but the rest of it should all stay the same. double this if you want to make pancakes to serve 4 people (about 20 pancakes)

to this, i add:

as much vanilla extract as my heart desires (within reason, i see you tumblr) some cinnamon/pumpkin pie spice/whatever you want lemon zest from 1 lemon (or orange zest) blueberries fresh or frozen (but you can use any mix in like bananas or nuts or whatever)

one very important note: you don't need buttermilk to make this recipe. you can substitute buttermilk by combining 1 teaspoon of lemon juice or white vinegar for every 1 cup of milk (its supposed to be regular milk but you can use plant or nut milk too) and letting it stand for 10 minutes.

the instructions:

zest your citrus and add it to your sugar. mush it together until you get a paste or sorts. add to that your oats, vanilla and buttermilk and stir them together. let the oats soak in the mixture for 10 minutes.

combine your flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon or spices.

after your oats are done soaking add in the oil and the egg (make sure the egg is beaten well)

add the wet into the dry and combine. make sure that all the flour is mixed in. there will be lumps. we want the lumps. then add your mix ins.

grease a pan. this can be a regular frying pan an electric griddle or a stovetop griddle. let the oil sit on the pan on medium heat for a few minutes or until you throw a few water drops on the pan and they crackle and jump.

use a 1/3 measuring cup and scoop your batter onto the pan, space them out a little but not ridiculously. flip them with a plastic spatula (ideal) 2-3 times or until they're fully cooked. (you tell if they're cooked if there's no wet batter on the sides)

voila. pancakes.

use this recipe or use the bare bones version to make your own thing.

happy pancake making.

[feyburner]

Cast iron loaf pan continues to be one of my favorite things ever, it consistently delivers perfect loaf cakes. In a perfect world my kitchen would have enough storage for cast iron pans of every imaginable size.

Recipe under cut, it’s basically the NYT Lemon Poppyseed Pound Cake but with some tweaks.

LEMON POPPY SEED LOAF CAKE

INGREDIENTS

zest of 2-3 lemons (the more the merrier)

1 cup white sugar

1/2 cup buttermilk (1/2 cup milk + 1.5 tsp white vinegar or extra lemon juice, stir, let curdle 10 min) or sour cream

1/4 cup (4 Tbsp) lemon juice

3 eggs

1 3/4 cup flour

1.5 tsp baking powder

1/4 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp salt

2/3 cup oil

2 Tbsp poppy seeds

glaze:

1/2 cup powdered sugar

1 Tbsp lemon juice

1 tsp vanilla

DIRECTIONS

1. Heat oven to 350°. Grease 1 x 8-9” loaf pan.

2. Mix together lemon zest and sugar in a large bowl, stirring and smearing until the zest releases oils and the sugar is very fragrant and looks like wet sand.

3. Whisk in lemon juice, buttermilk, and eggs.

4. In a separate bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt.

5. Whisk dry ingredients into wet. Whisk in oil and poppy seeds until smooth and combined.

6. Pour batter into prepared pan. Bake 1 hour until a knife inserted in the center comes out moist but clean. Let cool at least 30 minutes before slicing.

7. To make glaze, whisk together powdered sugar, lemon juice, and vanilla until smooth. Taste and add more sugar or lemon as desired. Brush over cake while hot to get a translucent crinkly glaze look, or drizzle over when cool to get a clean icing look.

NOTES

- Can use batter to make muffins (fill cups almost all the way to the top). Double recipe for a bundt pan.

- Instead of glaze, can also boil together 1/3 cup white sugar + 1 Tbsp lemon juice. When cake is fresh out of oven, poke top all over with a toothpick and pour lemon syrup over to soak in.

[writingforstraykids]

Letters Of Love - Felix🖤

Pairing: Felix x gn!Reader (poly!skz)

Word Count: 813

Summary: Next you remember a day with Felix, baking brownies together.

Warnings/Tags: fluff

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Jisung | Seungmin | Jeongin

You scroll through your photo gallery until your eyes catch on a particular image that makes your heart flutter. It’s one of your favorite pictures—one that perfectly captures a day filled with sweetness and laughter. The photo is of you and Felix, standing side-by-side in the kitchen, covered in flour and chocolate batter, both grinning as if you’ve just shared the world’s funniest inside joke.

In the image, Felix is holding up a wooden spoon with a bit of brownie batter on the tip, his other hand making a playful peace sign next to his cheek. There’s a smudge of chocolate on his nose, and his freckles are even more prominent under the bright kitchen lights, like tiny constellations dotting his sun-kissed skin. You’re beside him, leaning in close, a flour handprint marking your cheek—the culprit being Felix, of course, who had decided a few minutes earlier that making a mess was half the fun of baking. The two of you are surrounded by mixing bowls, measuring cups, and ingredients scattered haphazardly across the counter. In the background, you can see the oven’s timer counting down, the scent of chocolate almost tangible in the photo.

That day had been one of those unexpectedly perfect moments. You’d been feeling a little down, overwhelmed by the stress of the week, and Felix, with his uncanny sense for your moods, had suggested you bake something together. “Chocolate makes everything better, love,” he’d said with that sunshine smile of his, and you couldn’t argue with that logic. So, you’d put on some music, rolled up your sleeves, and let Felix lead the way.

It hadn’t taken long for the kitchen to turn into a chaos of laughter, teasing, and stolen tastes of sweet batter. Felix, ever the perfectionist, had tried to follow the recipe step-by-step at first, but it didn’t take much for him to abandon his usual precision in favor of playful improvisation. He’d ended up accidentally flicking flour at you, which had spiraled into a lighthearted war of ingredients. By the end, there was more batter on the counter (and on each other) than in the actual pan, and you both had to pause multiple times just to catch your breath from laughing so hard.

But the real magic happened when the brownies went into the oven and you both settled onto the kitchen floor, backs against the cabinets, just talking softly. Felix’s voice, low and soothing, had filled the space as he shared stories and dreams, his eyes shining with that quiet passion that always leaves you in awe. You’d listened, mesmerized by the way he seemed to light up just from being able to share a small moment like this with you. When the timer finally beeped, you’d both jumped up, eager to see the finished product, and the look on his face when he took the first bite—eyes wide, cheeks dimpling into that radiant smile—was sweeter than any dessert.

With a fond smile, you attach the picture and start typing your message, knowing exactly what you want to say to the boy who turned a simple baking session into a cherished memory.

---

Message to Felix🐥❣️:

Hey Angel,

I was looking through some photos, and I found this one from our brownie-baking day. Do you remember? I swear we got more batter on each other than in the pan! But I loved every second of it. You always know exactly what I need, even when I don’t know it myself. That day, I was feeling so stressed, and then you came along with your smile, your warmth, and your endless positivity, and suddenly everything felt lighter.

It’s not just the baking itself that I loved—it was being with you. I think that’s what you do best, Lixie. You make even the simplest moments feel special just by being yourself. I still remember sitting on the floor with you, listening to you talk about everything and nothing. You have this way of making life sweeter, of turning every second into something to smile about. Like magic.

Thank you for always knowing how to brighten my day, for bringing that sunshine energy wherever you go. Happy anniversary, my Angel. Here’s to more brownie battles, more flour fights, and more moments filled with your laughter.

Love you to the moon and back.

Your partner-in-baking and forever taste-tester

---

You send the message, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you picture Felix’s reaction. He’ll probably smile that wide, dimpled smile, eyes crinkling with joy. He might even send back a photo of his own—maybe of the same batch of brownies, or maybe just of him holding up a wooden spoon, ready for the next round. Because that’s Felix—always looking for ways to make you smile, to keep filling your days with the sweetness that only he can bring.

Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Jisung | Seungmin | Jeongin

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