#thankfully the chocolate mixture is alright | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

todoscript · 3 years

Text

sweetest delight

SYNOPSIS: While Shouto’s out hunting down villains on Valentine’s Day, you try your hand at making some sweets to celebrate the occasion, and in doing so, find your efforts rewarded in more ways than one.

pairing: pro hero!todoroki shouto x fem!reader

genre: smut. fluff. pro hero au.

word count: 7.3k+

warnings: 18+. characters are aged up. dominant!shouto. apron kink. praising. oral (both receiving). face-sitting. 69. cum-eating.

author’s note: god, this is long overdue, but i finally got this thing out after all this time. and of course, it ended up getting out of hand again

“Fuck, fuck, fuck–”

A range of curses spewed from your mouth as the unpleasant smell of your burnt confections permeated the space of your kitchen, threatening to notify the fire alarm overhead of your latest baking mishap. Luckily, you entered the kitchen just in time to dissipate the smoke before it can do so, fanning your towel while navigating to the oven to find your crisp, blackened sweets already ruined inside. The corners of your lips slipped into a scowl at another failed batch of mini chocolate cupcakes at your hand. You slid on a pair of oven mitts to transfer the set off the rack and onto the kitchen counter.

A flicker of optimism in your head presented the thought that they didn’t seem that bad at first glance, going so far as to believe they might’ve tasted relatively fine and that the burnt parts simply added a bitter flavor that would balance the overall sweetness of the decadent chocolate cupcakes. But upon closer inspection, you knew you were lying to yourself.

Flipping the miniature cakes out of the molds, you discovered the sweets were encased in a dreary black outer shell, a sight which made you grimace, wondering how you screwed up so badly to have concocted such a dismal image. You definitely had no right feeding these to Shouto, let alone offer them to him as a Valentine’s Day gift.

As everyone knew, the fourteenth day of February marked Valentine’s Day, the day where couples expressed their love to one another by giving gifts, spending quality time through dates, and displaying many other forms of affection. This year, however, Shouto was called in at his agency to investigate a case of villains whose plan was to wreak havoc on this special occasion.

Now, any person would find it normal to be peeved over these circumstances—having their lover’s free time eaten up by work when they could be celebrating together with a nicely lit dinner or a casual, romantic night at home, and perhaps cap off a wonderful evening with a smooth transition into the bedroom. Much better than spending a day at home alone, pitifully watching couples intertwine their hands together in envy as they walked along the sidewalk beneath your apartment complex, right?

Well, you, on the other hand, were a different case. Rather than sulk around as you waited for Shouto to arrive home later, you decided this would be the perfect chance to whisk up some sweets to surprise him. After all, what’s Valentine’s Day without some chocolate delights on the side, made with vanilla, sugar, cocoa butter, and lots of love and effort. A perfect way to welcome Shouto home from his mission while honoring the festivities, you’d say.

Besides, you understood the situation well enough to recognize that the citizens’ well-being came first before any date of yours. Your boyfriend was a hero, after all, and a Pro at that. It’s not as if you and Shouto hadn’t celebrated Valentine’s Day together before. So long as he came home—intact—prior to the clock ticking to midnight, one day didn’t bother you.

Though… after witnessing the aftermath of several failed attempts at baking thus far, you started to wonder if it would’ve done you better not to get so involved, only to waste resources and pervade your kitchen with an acrid smell.

Still, despite the trials and tribulations, you were determined to come out on top. You tapped your index finger repeatedly against the surface of the marbled counter. “Did I mix up the baking times? Maybe I undermined the portion sizes so the cupcakes started cooking faster?” you speculated out loud, wondering how to troubleshoot the minor errors to come out successful in your next attempt.

After some thought, you decided not to dawdle on your overthinking for too long and shrugged off the idea of redoing another batch of cupcakes. “It’s fine, I’ll just move onto the chocolates then. They’re the star of Valentine’s Day so better to focus on those,” you told yourself. A grin found its way on your face as you rolled the sleeves of your blouse up your forearms. “Alright, let’s get to it then!”

You retrieved a recipe sheet from across the counter, scanning through the contents while overlooking the ingredients lying in front of you. Compared to baking cupcakes, chocolates should be easier to tackle since you weren’t entirely making them from scratch. All you had to do is temper the chocolate melts in a bowl over a heat source, pour them into silicone molds, and refrigerate until hardened and shaped to the perfect, bite-sized delight. Seemed simple enough.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t quite as simple as you thought.

Or rather, you chose to make the whole process more complicated than it needed to be, not realizing the ambitious turn your take on these chocolates was moving toward until you drove yourself into another mess.

Your first trial of bonbons was sprawled out over parchment paper, waiting for your verdict. Eyes roaming the array of sweets tentatively, you absorbed the mixture of pink and white hues with an unsure look on your face. Somehow during the process, you opted to forgo the customary milk chocolates for white and strawberry, which was the closest you could get to matching Shouto’s signature hair colors.

You’d thought it’d be cute for the treats to have a slight resemblance to him as a simple yet sweet reminder that he was on your mind throughout your progress. But staring down at the final product, you wished you guessed ahead of time that the vision you sparked in your head was not going to be as bright and pretty in comparison to what came out.

You frowned at the batch with narrowed brows before begrudgingly scooping a piece and tossing it into your mouth. The sweetness of the strawberry and white chocolates coexisted together to form a smooth texture that left behind a creamy, floral undertone on your tongue. What was incredibly lacking, however, laid in the looks department. The visuals left… more to be desired, to say the least.

With the idea of wanting to use two different flavors of chocolate, you also played on the notion of incorporating a theme. That theme being half-and-half. And half-and-half being splitting the colors on the chocolates right down the middle.

Though not a complicated plan for an adept baker, it was the exact opposite for a newbie like you who had came up with the idea on the spot. With your chocolates appearing in odd shapes and sizes, not one seemed to resemble another, which was the result of both your lack of patience and miscalculations. You had to allow one of the flavors to harden in the mold before adding the other to not prematurely mix the colors, but judging by the swirls of pink and white surrounding the chocolates, that didn’t seem to go so well. Add on to the fact you had some trouble inverting them out of the silicon molds—the edges of the chocolates ending up smooshed or torn off entirely—and you were left with another failed attempt at a Valentine’s present.

“Guess making sweets isn’t really my thing, huh?” You sighed, body slumping forward against the kitchen counter in defeat. Your eyes wandered from your sad chocolates to the hefty amount of dirty dishes piled in the sink. All this, and you weren’t able to make anything worth giving to Shouto. What exactly were you going to tell him when he came home, bearing witness to this entire mess? No, Shouto was probably under enough stress and fatigue as it was after working all day. Plus, his anticipation for a gift would only be amplified if he saw the number of baking supplies you’ve wasted today. At this point, you had to turn in the towel.

“Oh well… I better clean everything up before Sho comes home and start on din–”

Your words were interrupted by the sharp sound of the front door opening.

“I’m home!” an all too familiar voice announced, one that you were more than aware belonged to a particular fire and ice hero.

Surprised, you glanced over at the clock to check the time, which read a bold 6:00 PM—sooner than you expected your boyfriend to arrive home from his duties that day. So soon, in fact, that you weren’t able to even begin erasing any of the evidence littered around the kitchen.

“Y/n?” you heard him call. Freezing in place, you picked up Shouto breathing in a quick whiff. “What’s that smell?” he asked but didn’t wait for a response, traveling through the enormous apartment to find that answer for himself. Hearing his feet shuffling across the hardwood floor, you moved quickly.

“The kitchen smells sweet but also... bitter.”

Sweet and bitter..? you repeated but soon realized what he meant—those damn burnt chocolate cupcakes you left out. While in your rush with making the chocolates, you had forgotten to dispose of them beforehand. Though the bitter smell was not as prominent as when the cupcakes first came out of the oven, it still didn’t evade Shouto’s keen senses.

After shoving the burnt mini cupcakes in a trash bin, you scrambled to the entrance to the kitchen, thankfully cutting Shouto’s path off just in time as you met him there. “Oh hey, Sho, why didn't expect you to come home so early!” you greeted, a cheerful lilt in your tone as you leaned an arm on the side of the doorway, hoping to come off ordinarily chill to avoid any questioning looks. It seemed you achieved that much at least by how Shouto smiled warmly at your appearance.

“You should’ve shot me a quick text or something.”

“Sorry, we managed to track down the group of villains right away and finished the mission smoothly without any casualties,” he explained. “I guess I was in such a hurry to come home and celebrate Valentine’s Day with you that I must’ve forgotten.” The soft look on Shouto’s handsome features had you in a daze for a second; you nearly missed him descending his head to your level so his lips could find yours. Eventually, you broke from your stupor and swiftly turned your head so he planted a peck on your cheek instead.

You were never one to purposely avoid a kiss on the lips like that from him—far from it actually—but you didn’t want him to find any residual sweetness on your lips from the confections you taste-tested that day and have him bring up if you made anything for him. One thing you surely couldn’t avoid, however, was his puzzled face at your uncharacteristic actions. Still, Shouto wasn’t one to overthink the details. Instead, he decided to look at the bigger picture, such as the dirty yet cute, pink and brown frilly apron tied around your body.

“Your apron’s a mess,” he chuckled lightly. The comment caught you off-guard, eyes slowly traveling down to the flour and chocolate stains on your Valentine’s-themed apron. “Have you been cooking?” he asked. You fumbled with your answer.

“O-Oh yeah..! In fact, I’m… still cooking, actually!” you quickly added, making up for your lack of words. “C’mon, it’s probably been a long day for you. You should go freshen up in the shower while I get everything done and cleaned!” You tried shoo-ing Shouto from the kitchen’s vicinity, but he didn’t budge.

“I can help out if you like. I wouldn’t want you to fix everything up by yourself, especially since we’re supposed to spend the rest of Valentine’s Day together,” he said, and as much as you liked to take him up on his kind and thoughtful offer, you had to object.

Firmly shaking your head, you continued your attempts at pushing Shouto to retreat to the shower and scrub off the troubles of his day. “No, you’ve probably done enough work today as it is! Just let me handle the rest, ‘kay?” you insisted, straining a smile. However, your hurried shoving felt almost too persistent than what Shouto found normal.

“Well, what are you making then–” As he tilted his head up to sneak a peek, you followed his movements, elevating yourself onto your tiptoes to block his vision in time.

“S-Soba noodles..! Cold! Just how you like them,” you answered after partially interrupting him. Quirking a brow at your fidgety gestures, Shouto stared at the smile etched on your lips which screamed of suspicion. Now he was sure something was up.

“Love,” he said, his voice a tone lower than usual that made goosebumps appear on your skin, staring at his turquoise and gray eyes warily, “are you hiding something from me?”

“What? Psh, no,” you feigned innocence, shrugging, “Why would you think that?”

Shouto gave you a look, silently telling you that you should more than know the reason why, but you chose to remain ignorant. No point in questioning it any further then. He would have to pry the answer out himself.

Aware that you had no intention of letting him pass voluntarily, Shouto began putting his hero training to use. He side-stepped in a single motion, quickly pivoting on the balls of his feet to slip through your defenses. You didn’t have time to ask yourself what happened before you turned around to watch his reaction to what you left for him on the kitchen counter.

Upon entering the kitchen, Shouto’s heterochromatic eyes were immediately drawn to the marbled white-and-pink sweets sprawled across the parchment paper. His interest piqued, he walked straight to the chocolates with you trailing behind. You could feel the heat in your cheeks slowly rise from the embarrassment at seeing Shouto inspect your sorry excuse of chocolates.

“Hm, no soba noodles, but I may have found something even better,” he said, and you wondered if you heard correctly or that maybe he saw something you didn’t. You rapidly blinked about four times, letting your vision adjust, and yet your chocolates remained.

“You’re kidding… right?”

Shouto lifted a brow at your hesitance. “No, why would I be kidding?” he replied thoughtfully. He took one of the chocolates off the parchment paper, raising it in the air between his thumb and index finger. “You made these for me, didn’t you?”

“I mean, yeah, they were supposed to be a Valentine’s Day gift, but…”

“But..?” A frown settled on his lips, watching you nervously twiddle your thumbs while you held your hands against your apron. “Y/n, you can tell me.” Not liking how you weren’t meeting his eyes, his finger drew your chin up so he could get a better glimpse of your face.

“But they don’t look the part. They’re hideous,” you quietly admitted, your words mellowing into a whisper the more they departed your lips. The way he treated your creations as if they belonged on a pedestal didn’t sit right in your eyes. “So I... didn’t want you to see them, or any of this actually. I thought if you saw what I was doing, you’d get your hopes up for something special, only to be disappointed.” You tried avoiding his gaze again, but Shouto wouldn’t allow it, following your eyes as his hand pried yours apart to take one in his own.

His focus shifted from the pink and white chocolate held in front of him to the uncertainty clouding your expression. “I’m not sure what you mean. They look fine to me.”

“Sho, you don’t have to lie to me just so you don’t end up hurting my feelings. Anyone can see how uneven they look,” you said, pointing at the rest of the batch still sitting on the counter behind him. There was a low chuckle coming from the male’s lips, one that you guessed was out of amusement, but you were too caught in your troubled feelings to be sure.

“Well, I have to admit, they don’t exactly resemble the perfect, visual representation of the chocolates you’d find at the store or anything,” he acknowledged with you mumbling an ‘I told you so’ in response before he continued, “but that’s the reason why I like them. That means you made them for me and there isn’t any chocolate like it. They’re one of a kind.”

His genuine words took you aback, eyes glimmering and cheeks flushed. You were too wrapped up in your need for perfection that you didn’t realize you could consider your efforts that way.

“Besides,” he threw the little bonbon in his mouth, “they taste great,” he said as the strawberry and white cream melted on his tongue with its rich sweetness.

Despite his praise, you thought he had only said that because you knew for a fact that the chocolates did at least pass in the taste department. “But what if they had tasted bad too? What would you have said then?” You were bold enough to question, though half-worried about his answer in the back of your head—worried that he would have to take back those sweet words of his.

“I still would have eaten them, regardless. I’d never waste anything you’ve made for me, you should know that. To me, these chocolates are the sweetest delight not because they’re the best looking or tasting, but because they came from you,” he answered earnestly, bending down to tuck a hair away from your stunned yet grateful appearance which looked as if you were nearly about to sigh out loud in relief. You brought your body into his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin, and he wrapped his arms around you, lips pressed against your hair.

Shouto didn’t grant you much time to bask in your solace however, before beckoning you over to the kitchen counter. He wasn’t done teasing you just yet.

“Normally couples give each other milk chocolates on Valentine’s day. Any reason you decided on white and strawberry then?” Shouto noted, a grin on his lips as you seemed reluctant to reveal your reasoning—lips pursed and fingers playing with the hem of your apron.

“Well, they’re supposed to be your…” You finished by motioning at the crown of your head before pointing to his red and white locks.

Heh... Cute. The grin that was persistent on his features widened, and your response earned you a kiss on the cheek. “Thinking about me, huh?” he teased. You were more than aware of your intentions throughout your chocolate-making process, but it didn’t make the whole situation any less embarrassing when your motives came to light out of Shouto’s own mouth.

You pouted profusely, turning your face in the other direction as you nudged his arm. “Aren’t you going to eat the rest then?” you asked despite your demure demeanor. You couldn’t see it, but you were positive he was aiming that amused expression in your direction, leaning his head on his palm while his elbow was leveled on the counter.

“You made a lot of chocolates today, love. You don’t expect me to finish them all by myself, do you?” You heard the rustle of the parchment liner unsticking to something behind you. Then a finger poked your cheek, and out of curiosity, you followed where the disturbance came from, only to have a swirl of pink and white pushed past your lips.

“Mm..” you hummed surprisingly in delight at the harmonious strawberry and cream flavors coating your tastebuds.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” he asked.

“Yeah, I got to taste them before you arrived home.” You rubbed the back of your head. “And um, I didn’t exactly make these from scratch...” You went about divulging your methods to him, explaining your usage of chocolate melts, which all in all saved you a lot of time, considering your earlier mishaps with the brownies—a misfortune you also confessed to as you side-eyed the trash bin.

The dual-haired male laughed with mirth at the disasters you tangled yourself into today. “Seemed like you had an eventful Valentine’s Day at home without me.”

He scanned over your outfit, consisting of a simple buttoned blouse and a pair of jeans. What caught his eye the most was the frilly, laced brown and pink apron tied around your body. You must have bought this specifically to get in the spirit of Valentine’s Day because this was the first he’s seen you in this. Normally you’d wear those plain cotton aprons while you were cooking. Not something so charming and—dare he say—refreshing.

As you were continuing the conversation—going on about how vanquishing criminal organizations was more productive than whatever you were concocting at home—your words faded into the background. Shouto found it hard to focus on what you were saying, while your animated gestures seemed to enhance the shape of the apron against your body, emphasizing your physique.

Recalling the story you just mentioned, he imagined what the scene of you frantically dashing around the kitchen would look like as you wore this cute thing. Was it weird of him to hold fantasies of arriving home, being greeted by your endearing self donning this garment, dolled in its intricacies with a smile gracing the lips he oh so wanted to kiss every day?

Shouto would think so. He’s never heard of any anecdotes of this kind of behavior before. Perhaps it was how dainty and frilly the material appeared against your figure that stemmed such a risqué thought from him. If that was the case, then this apron was no different than lingerie. Or more specifically, those delicate lace babydolls you’d wear for him on those special occasions, in which you displayed the zenith of lust and vulnerability that rendered him a man ensnared by his need to utterly ravage you–

Fuck. Letting those imaginations cross his mind was a dangerous move. He felt himself getting hard, body exercising the willpower not to pounce and concede to his fantasies. Then again, no one could really blame him for thinking of his girlfriend this way on Valentine’s Day. Especially when you looked so damn cute right now that he could just eat you up.

“Shouto?” Your voice diverted his attention from the growing problem in his pants, though only for a moment. When his focus returned to you, all those lascivious thoughts buried in the back of his head made their way to the forefront again. Damn, did he have it bad.

“Is something wrong? You were zoning out for a bit.”

He shook his head, dispelling your concern. However, it was going to take more than that to sweep away the lust consuming his mind. “It’s nothing. More importantly, why don’t we continue tasting these chocolates?” Pulling up a stool, he took a seat next to the kitchen counter.

Just as you were going to mention that you needed to start on dinner soon, Shouto suddenly drew your body in between his parted legs. Thrown slightly off-balance, you instinctively held onto his shoulders to keep yourself steady.

You couldn’t help but notice the hand traveling up your legs as it situated itself on the back of your thigh, but the detail was abandoned as soon as it was manifested. The proximity between you two was too much not to overlook now. Shouto peered up at you with what you made out to be smoldering intensity, and the sight reduced you to shying away from his eyes again.

Of course, Shouto didn’t take a liking to that. With you so close, he didn’t want anything hindering his front seat viewing of your candid reactions. “Baby, look here,” he called to you. You followed his command, turning back to face the grin reaching his lips. “There’s my pretty girl.”

You attempted to open your mouth to reply but found another ball of marbled chocolate placed where words should’ve been.

Soft lips wrapped around him, Shouto had to fight back the urge to groan, feeling your tongue graze the pad of his thumb as he fed you the candy. His other hand, formerly occupied with rubbing subtle circles on your clothed flesh, wandered to the satin ribbon of your apron fashioned behind you.

It wasn’t long until you discerned the game he was playing through the fiery looks and frisky touching.

Well, enter player two.

You brought a hand to his wrist, keeping him there as your tongue made work at licking away the residual chocolate melted on his finger. You moved from his thumb to his index finger, noting not to miss anything with every flick as you confidently returned the heady expression with batted eyelashes.

Shouto breathed in silently through his nose, gritting his teeth, your sultry actions having an innate effect on him, to which you smirked at. There was a slight tug on the ribbon wrapped behind you. It wasn’t firm enough to where the knot came undone, but enough that you noticed his fixation on the material. If he was making an effort to exert some self-control, it was futile at this point. No doubt, he was going to take you before Valentine’s Day was over.

“Hmm, you’re right, these chocolates are pretty tasty. But it’s probably because you’re the one feeding them to me that they taste just soooo good,” you mused, adding a sensual tonality to your voice as you concluded your words with one last kitten lick.

The man before you bit the inside of his cheek, your voice alone making blood rush south. You little minx. He was going to make doubly sure you understood just what you were doing to him.

Finally releasing his hand, you reached over beside you to grab a chocolate off the parchment paper. “For you~” You giggled as you led the confection to Shouto’s mouth. He readily accepted your gift, lips wrapping around the tips of your fingers as the mellow flavors soothed his taste buds. He made a point of re-enacting your little show, tongue languidly lapping your fingers while he maintained steady eye contact. You shuddered at the wet warmth abiding your skin, the suffocating sexual tension in the air causing you to press your thighs together. The action was not overlooked by Shouto, who smiled amidst cleaning your fingers with every brush of his tongue.

“What’s wrong, love? You were so bold and talkative earlier. Cat got your tongue or something?” he teased. A smirk ran across the curl of his lips as his licks turned to kisses he planted on the back of your hand.

After finishing his task of lapping up every essence of sweetness off your skin, he lifted himself from the stool. Doing so made him stand tall over you, and he easily cornered you to where your back met the edge of the counter. Your wrist captured in one of his hands, he wove an arm around you, pulling your body into him.

“You know, there’s something I want to eat right now other than chocolates,” he confessed, forehead pressed to yours and glinted heterochromatic eyes latent with an insatiable hunger. The baritone of his voice sent shivers through your body and a throb aching in your core.

You innocently tilted your head at him. “Oh, is that so? And what would that be?”

He chuckled darkly at your redundant question.

“Why you of course, my love.”

The moment the words reached your ears, he lunged forward to seize your lips. You quickly followed in the sensual movements of his soft lips against yours like it was a practiced routine, not resisting his tongue prying its way into your mouth and submitting to the dance that made pleasure course through your veins.

A single tap on your thigh was your cue to hop into Shouto’s waiting grasp and wrap your arms around his neck. You pulled your bodies closer to where the few layers of clothing you both possessed did nothing to hide your enthusiasm for each other. You could feel your nipples under your bra stiffen at your arousal, growing more sensitive as you pressed your chest to him. Meanwhile, his hard erection shamelessly poked the inside of your thigh to which his grip was poised on remaining firm, grinding your lower half against him.

You expected this was where he intended to have you—right then and there in the middle of the kitchen—but to your surprise, Shouto had other plans. He navigated you two to the dining table as you continued feverishly making out with your legs wrapped around his waist. Never breaking the hot mingle of your lips, he carefully placed you on the edge. His hands were free to roam the expanse of your body, palming at places that elicited airy moans from you as he inscribed the niceties of your bonny apron into his memory. Though he cursed the unnecessary layers that obscured your beautiful flesh from him.

Finding the clothes still on you equally unbearable in the heat of your movements, you were on the same wavelength as him. You sought out the satin ribbon tied behind your back that kept the apron on your form, but before your fingertips could even reach the material to tug the knot loose, Shouto seized your wrists and led your hands away. Your face was scrunched with bewilderment by how sudden his actions were.

Shouto didn’t think he could have a fetish over something as ordinary and domestic as a decorative garment tied around your waist, but this Valentine’s Day was proving him otherwise. He was not about to pass an opportunity to absolutely ruin you in this pretty thing.

“Keep it on,” he ordered, voice deep and commanding.

“H-Huh? What about my clothes?” you stuttered, confused at first. You wanted to ask what spurred him to give such a demand, but you were too caught in the moment to think of objecting to his request (not that you had much choice anyway).

“Let me.” That was all he said before his hands sought after the waistband of your jeans and the buttons of your top. He pulled and undid the apparel until you were left in only your panties and that lovely apron. Your bra was quickly disposed of to the pile next to his feet thanks to the clip being located at the front this time, and he was eternally grateful for the convenience. You didn’t even have to mention anything for his own clothes to float above yours on the floor, sitting back on the table to admire his toned physique, now free for you to ogle in just his briefs.

His hooded, icy eyes concentrated on every aspect of your appearance. He didn’t dare miss a single detail in front of him—from your bare, flushed skin glowing beneath the light fixture to your aroused nipples shaped through the thin fabric. You were a sight Shouto would gladly worship for the rest of his life.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, my love, and I’m going to enjoy ravaging you until all you know is my name.”

His words alone were enough to send a tingle of anticipation to your cunt. You did not shrink at his assertiveness, instead embracing both yours and Shouto’s desires with open arms.

“You have me, Sho. I’m all yours.”

The man released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding before inhaling and diving in. Your lips reencountered each other, continuing from where you left off with his tongue chasing after you. You laced your fingers in his soft hair to press him deeper to you as Shouto navigated down your neck. He sucked and licked at your skin; every tug he felt on his scalp compelled him to lay marks as he inched closer and closer to your breasts.

“Ahh.. Sho…” you mewled, feeling his hands grope one of your mounds and tease your slit through your panties. With no intention of letting this apron off your body, Shouto pushed the fabric concealing your chest inward to reveal a perky nipple, seeming excited to be covered by his mouth. Well, who was he to deny such exuberance, especially when he himself was hungry to taste?

Lips enclosing the stiffened nub, Shouto sucked and prodded with fervor. As you squirmed and squealed beneath him, your fingers pulled harder at his strands which he hummed in content at. The tip of his tongue circled your areola, making the slick clinging to your panties damper at the stimulation. The hand occupied between your thighs stroked you against the fabric before pulling it to the side to touch you directly.

“Oh fuck!” you cursed at the contact as Shouto did not hesitate to start pumping a finger into your pussy.

“Damn, you’re so wet down here. Did my kisses and teasing do all this?”

You were too distracted by the precise movements of his fingers working through you to answer, words superseded by your wanton moans. “Keep making those pretty sounds, love. I want you to cry out as I’m ruining you.”

Your noises hit a crescendo when his fingers began curling inside you, stretching into places that lit stars behind your eyes. His thumb rubbed your clit to intensify the fire building in your abdomen. Your back arched on the table as you grabbed onto Shouto’s free hand for dear life, already feeling that flame ready to ignite.

“Sho– Wait, I’m gonna–”

“Don’t hesitate, sweetheart. Coat my fingers with your cum,” he told you, increasing the speed of his thumb against your bundle of nerves as he continually hit that euphoric soft spot.

At his words, your pussy clenched hard around him, practically sucking him in. You threw your head back against the table, releasing a loud cry of his name as your orgasm engulfed your whole body with electrifying pleasure. Chest heaving up and down, your breaths sounded ragged as your vision went white before slowly adjusting to the light.

Shouto slid his fingers out of you and brought them to his mouth, licking at the layer of gloss. He observed your fucked-out state from above and admired his handiwork—your lips swollen, eyes glassy, and sweaty skin adorned with his marks.

“You taste absolutely delicious, you know,” he said almost too sweetly, like he had immediately gotten drunk off drinking the remnants of your orgasm. And, of course, he had to let you know how delectable you were. Shouto provided you a sample by pressing his fingers to your lips. You obediently parted them, welcoming your essence on your tongue.

“Don’t you think so?”

You hummed and nodded in agreement. Shouto grinned, bending down to mix your flavor in each other’s mouths. He finally removed your ruined panties and slid them down your legs. But to no one’s surprise, the apron stayed on your person.

When you parted, Shouto gestured for you to get up from the table. In doing so, you had anticipated this would be the time to head straight to the bedroom, but the night continued to prove you wrong. Shouto was still famished.

“Stand up for a second, baby. I want to lay down as I have my meal.” You didn’t need to guess to know just what he wanted to satiate his appetite tonight.

Shouto laid himself flat across the table, the majority of his legs dangling off the edge. You, on the other hand, were apprehensive at his approach, cautiously wondering if your modest dining table could handle the rampant motions of two adult bodies on top of it at once. Should the legs give way and the table collapses, the gravity of your descent would put all your weight onto him. What if you hurt him as a result?

“Love, what’s the holdup?” your boyfriend called, breaking your train of thought, “Come, your throne awaits.” He patted his chest—a rather peculiar place to sit but your cunt pulsed at the image of you riding that gorgeous face of his.

“O-Okay, I’m just afraid of hurting you, is all,” you said, pulling at the hem of your apron for security.

He raised his upper body halfway to see the hesitance painted on your features. “Y/n, there’s no need to worry, I wouldn’t have thought of doing this if I couldn’t handle it,” he assured, his hand reaching out for you. “Trust me. I won’t let anything happen to us.”

You stared at the hand hovering in front of you and then at Shouto’s eyes glimmering with faith, and you knew you could trust his word. So you take his hand, climbing onto the table and over his body where you straddled his chest.

“Dining tables are meant to be eaten on, right? Well, I intend to devour you until your legs are shaking beside me, sweetheart,” he promised. He stroked up and down your thighs tauntingly. Your breaths hitched as he maneuvered you above his face, moving the flap of your apron so you could feel his cold breath against your lower lips.

“As much as I appreciate all those confections you made for me, they all pale in comparison to the sweetest delight here–” He uttered praises to your core while rubbing the soft flesh of your thighs. “This pretty, soft, and dripping pussy.”

Warmth spread across your cheeks at his lewd words and how close in proximity he was to your twitching center. The one thing you detested about this apron at this moment was the fact it blocked you from what Shouto was doing, the bottom half lying right above his face. To him, however, it made everything all the more entertaining.

Despite being the one trapped under you, it must have felt like you were more in the dark than he was. After all, he was the one asserting dominance in this situation, and with a layer of fabric hiding his face, you had no idea how or when he was going to eat you out. His deafening silence was not offering you one bit of reassurance either. If he truly intended to devour you atop this table, he should just do it already.

“...Sho? Are you—Ah!” Upon questioning him, your words were choked by your surprised squeal, feeling him delicately kiss your folds with chilly lips attached to your warm pussy. You opened your mouth to speak again, yet you struggled to search for words as Shouto’s tongue flattened against you, licking a long strip before latching onto your sensitive pearl. The more he relentlessly sucked and teased, the more you sang out with waves of pleasure quivering through your body.

Hearing your beautiful noises, he chuckled, tongue vibrating on your clit. Every sound you produced made his cock stutter, still leaking and begging for attention beneath his briefs.

Not liking how inactive you were—simply sitting on his face and waiting for yourself to come undone on his tongue—you reached behind yourself to trail your hand down his abdomen. His body tensed, abs immediately flexing at your soft touch. You noticed his ministrations falter in their rhythm.

“B-Baby, what are you doing?” he questioned, pulling himself off of you to concentrate on your hand running along the waistband of his briefs. His fingers dug into your flesh as you found his length, tentatively giving it a pump that gave birth to a strained noise below the flap of your apron.

“You’ve been doing all the work so far, Sho. I just want you to enjoy yourself,” you said. His eyebrows were scrunched, hissing through his teeth at your thumb grazing his slit, mixing his precum around the tip.

“I am enjoying myself—this is all I could ever ask for,” he replied honestly. He lifted the frilly material off his face so you could discover your slick running down his lips and neck, the blush spread across his fair cheeks an more than sufficient indication that he derived nothing but delight from being in this position. He looked like an absolute mess, yet the debauched sight made both your heart and pussy flutter.

“But if you want to join in, I won’t stop you.”

At that, Shouto detached himself from your sweetness for just a second to quickly reposition you above him. You were adjusted to where you were practically on all fours on the table now, facing the prominent bulge raised on his briefs while your fluttering cunt was somehow even more obscenely split in front of him. You were thankful the piece of furniture stayed intact throughout the motions, pleasantly astounded by its strength. However, you couldn’t pause to be impressed by this detail for long. Not when Shouto’s aching erection pleaded for you to continue touching it.

Your hand returned to its original place—wrapped around his heavy length that wept with precum coating the surface of its mushroom top. As you stroked it up and down in a consistent rhythm, you altered your grip to tighten more around him.

“Ooh yeah, that’s it, baby. Just like that… Ahhhh, fuckkkk—” You were rewarded by his praises and groans at the splendid pressure surrounding his dick. It encouraged you to keep up your pace and add another hand to the fray to increase the tension.

“You’re doing so well, making me feel so fucking good, love. Can you add your mouth for me now?” he requested, and you happily complied. Your tongue flattened against his cock, noting every vein and twitch running across your wet muscle that reduced Shouto to muttering obscenities behind you. Reaching the top, you swirled your tongue along the tip before taking the entire head into your warm cavern. Shouto’s thighs flexed, body almost trembling at how heavenly you made him feel. He couldn’t be outdone.

You let out a whine on his cock, feeling his mouth working against you again. This time you felt the effects stronger than before as Shouto spread your pussy lips to grant him better access to tongue fuck you. He stimulated every sensitive area with practiced ease, making sure to flick your clit with extra vigor to achieve the best results. You delivered in your reactions—legs shaking and knees slowly and deliberately being reduced to jelly.

Even ensnared in ecstasy, you did your best to adapt to his intensity, engulfing him more into your mouth. Your hands worked together to maximize the most pleasure you could give him, fondling his balls and gripping the base of his cock.

The lewdest of sounds filled the room in an unrelenting symphony. From your muffled whimpers to your pussy squelching in the presence of Shouto’s mouth purring against you, there was no shortage of bliss evident in the atmosphere. Hearing yourselves in the throes of rapture as you devoured each other’s whole beings like starved animals, you two were simultaneously climbing toward your highs.

“Shit, keep doing just that baby, and I’m going to paint that pretty mouth of yours white,” he warned half-heartedly. You purred, the enthusiasm laced your tone informing Shouto you wanted him to do just that. He was pleased by your response.

“You want it, don’t you, you slutty girl? Well, I expect you to drown me in your honey while I cover your throat with my cum then.” Those were the last words he spared you before proceeding to manifest them into reality. His hands dug themselves in the flesh below your ass cheeks, exposing your pussy to his appendage that swiped away at your clit until shockwaves made you tremble above him.

You were the first to come undone, juices running down your thighs and boyfriend’s chin. Your cries were muffled amidst Shouto’s dick caught down your throat, tightening around his length, which surged with spurts of white all over your mouth. You swallowed every single drop of his seed, wiping at the excess on your lips as you released the hero’s cock with a loud pop.

After taking a moment to catch your breaths, you carefully moved off of each other. Shouto steadied you on his lap, letting you straddle him as he sat on the edge of the table. He intertwined your fingers through his and brought them to his lips to place a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Shouto. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

#bnha smut #bnha x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #mha smut #bnha fic #bnha imagine #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki imagine #mha x reader

1K notes · View notes

renjunbae · 3 years

Text

resurface; kim jungwoo.

synopsis : all you had wanted was a quiet summer by the beach to relax, escape the oppressiveness of the city, and get your mind off of your last disastrous relationship, but apparently peace was hard to come by, especially when a figure from your past reappears unexpectedly in your life.

pairing : kim jungwoo x fem!reader

genre : beach resort au, university au, romance, fluff

warnings : (very) mild profanities

length : 7.1k

soundtrack : let me drown - deanz ft. andy delos santos; u n eye - boy in space; sun goes down - aiyo

author's note : this is part of the ot23 "resonance beach" collab hosted by @amorajae. thank you so much for letting me participate & go check out the collab masterlist for more addicting summer reads!

Socializing had never been so suffocatingly painful and pretentious.

Clinking champagne glasses, aimless mingling and a forever unending charade of polite smiles that never quite reached one’s eye, they surrounded you like a shroud that made it hard to breathe, a shirt that was too tight and biting uncomfortably at the neck. Much like the very dress you were wearing at the moment; form-fitting, over-the-top fancy, and narrow in all the spots you hated.

Oh, how you wished to change out of it all. Rip off the structured binds around your entire being, take off and away from the repetitive scene that had become more frequent over the past weeks and the main cause of your headaches. But there was nothing you could do about it except stare uselessly at the clock as its hands ticked by at an excruciatingly slow pace, and you hated that fact more than anything else.

“Well then, it has been lovely to meet you, Miss (Y/N). I can see that your parents have done an excellent job raising such an elegant and well-mannered young lady.” The concluding words, along with an outstretched hand, snapped you out of your misery and forced your attention back to the middle-aged man before you. Already, you were struggling to recall his name from the brief—or was it excruciatingly long?—introduction he’d done when he sought to strike a conversation with you twenty minutes earlier. Was he a superior of your father’s? Or maybe a recent acquaintance of your mother’s? You didn’t know, nor cared, really. After two hours of entertaining your parent’s countless associates with answers to their onslaught of questions about which college you attended and other various aspects of your personal life, you no longer had much energy left to spare for further pretense.

For the entirety of the exchange, you’d somehow gotten by with absentminded nods and murmured agreements. Thankfully, your latest companion was too immersed in his tales to notice your drifting focus and lack of interest, at which you almost heaved a sigh of relief. If your parents had received word of your misbehavior, you’d be a goner for sure, and you certainly were not looking forward to another round of their droning lecture about mannerism, etiquette, and public image.

“It was nice meeting you too,” you managed to return with a smile that was just about passable for being semi-enthusiastic, though inside, you were cringing hard at your poor attempts of keeping up the graciously civilized front your mother had always insisted for you to display in public. Forget the crowded dinner parties, forget the fancy evening galas, with every passing minute you were closer to less than a hair’s breadth away from plopping down on the nearest sofa and calling it quits. But you retained your composure and made sure to wave politely as the man stepped away, only letting out a long-held breath after his figure had completely disappeared amidst the crowd.

The room was getting uncomfortably stuffy, and your desire to leave was ever growing as you struggled to get through the throng of chattering bodies for some space alone. Sure, you’d been at a number of clubs and parties with your friends, but they were always on the more laid back and easygoing side of the atmosphere spectrum. You didn’t have to put up a perfect front for others to examine, nor be pressured to uphold your entire family’s reputation. And you certainly wouldn’t be obliged to answer your mother’s calls from ten feet away, beckoning you over to no doubt meet another friend of hers.

It was all the same, over and over. Introductions, small talk, and then going into the personal life of the (L/N)s’ “all grown up” daughter.

“Neo Tech University? The top school in the area? How nice!”

Your father beamed proudly. “Of course, she’s my daughter, after all.”

The adults laughed. You didn’t join them, instead picking at the fabric of your gown until the conversation required your participation again.

“She’s matured so much, I bet she has all the boys at her heels already,” The lady commented, to which your mom immediately responded with a pleased smile and, “Of course, she’s got a boyfriend too. They’re soo cute together. Hey, honey, how come he hasn’t come around in a while?”

God, why? Why, of all things, did they have to bring this up? You felt your insides squeezing together painfully at the mention of the topic, your fists clenched so hard you could feel your fingernails digging into your skin. You’d thought this night couldn’t get any worse than it already was, but you were wrong, it just did. Their gazes were all set on you expectantly, and you hated the attention. Hated being the focus of the conversation and picked apart to the seams.

“We broke up,” you said eventually, avoiding your parents’ eyes.

Your mother's smile fell away to an expression of shock and disbelief. “Why? I thought you two were doing so well with each other.”

Yeah, we were, before he cheated on me, you were tempted to say. To firmly erase any of your mother’s misconceptions that she had even a single idea of what was going on in her daughter’s life. But you just shrugged nonchalantly, as if the breakup was only a trivial matter. If you’d told them the truth, your mother would’ve no doubt considered it a huge blow to her reputation.

“It’s alright, you’ll find someone else who’s worthy of you,” the lady patted your shoulder sympathetically, and you felt your face heat up in a mixture of humiliation and frustration. The last thing you needed was someone telling you that in public.

You figured this was a good time to leave, maybe dig a hole and bury yourself in it. Tonight had been a suitable enough reason. Murmuring a quick apology to the adults, you excused yourself and made your way toward the exit before your mother could intercept. People stared as you passed, but at this point, their hypercritical looks were the least of your concerns. If grown-up life was beyond the point of “childishness” and “selfish acts”, then you’d grown beyond the point of caring.

By the time you’d arrived home, it was already ten o’clock. You and your parents had left for the gala around six-thirty, which meant you’d spent at least a good three hours and a half at the venue, engaging in hollow, repetitive conversations with near strangers. It was exhausting, to say the least, and you found yourself craving a warm bath the moment you stepped through the door. But you had your priorities set straight, and after changing into some casual clothing, you made a beeline for the kitchen to make yourself a pot of ramen. You were practically starving after almost an entire night of strolling around and snacking only on lady-like portions of foreign delicacies at the event.

While the water boiled, you dialed your best friend’s number. She’d told you of her plans—or the lack thereof—this evening, consisting of nothing but binge watching anime and consuming an inhumane amount of triple chocolate fudge ice cream. That was basically an open invitation for you to call her whenever you felt like ranting about old men and how it just wasn’t fair no one else was obligated to chat for hours on end with them about stock market prices, and you accepted it gladly.

Yera picked up on the second ring. True to her word, you could hear the incoherent Japanese shouting of the characters in whatever anime she was binging at the moment.

“How did it go? The gala?”

Just the sound of her voice was enough to ease some of the tension in your shoulders. Your best friend always knew what to say and how to lift your spirits in times like this, no matter how blunt and straightforward she may be, and you were looking forward to her advice.

“Terrible,” you groaned. “Whoever came up with the idea of stuffing over two hundred boring, judgmental business people in a room far too bright and oxygen-lacking must’ve been out of their mind.”

You heard Yera snort from the other side of the line. “Yeah, no shit, sherlock. You know, I’d reassure you it’s not that bad, but I know it’s exactly that bad.”

You shifted your position so that you faced the kitchen window, where a view of the city’s nightscape unfolded before your eyes. The sky was dark, but thousands of glimmering lights made up for it—neon billboards, cars flying by on the busy streets below, office lightings, roadside lamps, and glowing patches of yellow from residential buildings like your own. You stared out at the sea of twinkling sparks, and for a moment, felt so very small amidst the immensely vast world.

“They mentioned him.”

There was only a beat of silence. Yera didn’t need long to catch onto who you were referring to.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, they were talking about boys and then my mom brought up the fact that I have a boyfriend—had, actually,” you sighed, an action you found occurring more often than not lately. “Guess I forgot to tell them he’s an ex now, but then again, they didn’t ask before.”

“Gosh, that must’ve been so awkward.”

“It was,” you shut your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose with your forefingers. “You tell me. I had to leave, right away. I’m just glad it’s over now.”

“Wait wait wait, hold on. How many of these event thingies have you gone to in the past week?”

“Three, not counting the time my mom had some friends over for lunch. They stayed until dinner, actually, and we had to go out and eat.”

“What the heck?? And you let them drag you along?”

“It’s my duty to accompany them, I guess. They’d be mad if I don’t go and let them show me off for a bit. But then again, there usually aren’t this many events. My dad just signed a contract with some important clients, and my mom’s been invited to a bunch of social gatherings, plus the fact that normally, I’d have school as an excuse. There’s just been more of them recently, and it’s not like I have any good enough reason to opt out.”

Yera gasped. “It’s summer. Summer!! That’s all they should need. It’s summer break right now and it’s your time off. They shouldn’t need any more reason than that. And whether it’s the norm or not, you have to know that you are in charge of yourself and that you get to decide what you do with your own life, not them.”

“You have a point, Yera, you always do, but...” you shook your head. “I honestly don’t know at this point. Things are easier said than done. I hate it all, but in a way, it’s part of my responsibility.”

“Okay, oookay. That’s it. No more dinner parties or rich people galas for you, (Y/N). It’s your time off and I’m going to make sure you take some time off. Aren’t you tired of them ordering you around? You’re the one who’s in control of your own life, (Y/N). Go have a nice vacation and stay away from adult business for at least a few weeks, or I’m not letting you anywhere near my mom’s homemade honeycomb brownies again, got it?”

If Yera was bringing her mother’s brownies into the deal, then you knew she was serious. Somehow, despite the situation, you almost felt like laughing. Felt like you were invincible, as if her words brought a surge of confidence along with it. Smiling up at the night sky, you said, “Well, I guess I have to do it for those brownies.”

“Good, now go on and take on the world!”

The world—or, namely, your parents—was clearly not amused when you dragged your suitcase into the living room at eight in the morning the next day, dressed in a flowery blouse, your favorite jean shorts, and a pair of heeled sandals. They’d been eating breakfast at the dining table just ten paces across as you entered, engrossed in a conversation about the latest commercial trends and news of the business world. They looked up at the sound of wheels against the marbled floor, an initial expression of shock crossing their faces as they took in your outfit and the luggage in your hands.

Your father looked almost bewildered as he glanced between you and your mother, who’s brows had deepened into a frown. She shook her head as if to clear away thoughts of disbelief, though you could detect the note of disapproval that was weaved into the action.

“What’s with this?” she asked, her tone stern and commanding, almost as if to compel you into saying exactly what she wanted: “Nothing, mom. I’m not going anywhere.”

It had always been that way. You’d intend to do something, and she’d shut you down before you could even try. But not this time.

“Carrying out my plans for summer break,” you replied and paused before continuing. “Why?”

The lines on your mother’s forehead deepened. “Plans?”

She was waiting for you to either straight up admit what you were up to or give up. You knew that, and you didn’t want to beat around the bush either, so you looked her right in the eyes and said, “Summer vacation plans, mom. I’m leaving today.”

“(Y/N), I thought we already talked about this. You can’t just—”

“Go around and quit my duties? Yeah, I know.”

“Then what are you doing right now?”

“I’m not quitting,” you said through gritted teeth, “I’m taking the break that I deserve.”

“You’re running away,” your mother accused, her voice trembling with incredulity and, despite her apparent effort to keep it controlled, a slight hint of anger. “You’re going back on your promise and you’re not going to do what you should just because you don’t want to. Stop being so selfish and naive, (Y/N). You’re not a child anymore.”

It was something just suddenly snapped inside you, and all your pent up frustration boiled over. “Selfish? Mom, do you ever think about how I feel? I’ve put up with all the things you wanted me to do and I can’t even have a single moment when I try to focus on my own happiness for once?”

“You promised—”

“I’m not a replacement for him!”

Your parents stared, momentarily speechless from your outburst. In the silence, you felt the frustration and anger wear away and bubble down to something that resembled a fevered hurt. The broken pain in your mother’s face seemed to mirror your own, but the words slipped out anyway.

“No matter what, I can’t be him. I can’t replace him. I know that’s what you want me to be, and that if I was, maybe you could think that he’s never gone, but I can’t. I just…”

You could see that your comments had hit their mark.“(Y/N)—” your mother started.

But at this point, you were too tired of arguing to continue. You didn’t wait to hear what she had to say, only picked up your bags and headed for the entranceway. You exhaled as the door clicked shut behind you. Gosh, I’m really going to do this, am I?

Resonance Beach Resort was a nice change from the usual fast-paced schedule of your daily life that was full of unwanted obligations and tasking duties. You'd visited often in your early childhood and teenage years, and had loved the place for its elegant, luxurious accomodations and the spectacular view of a pristine beach that spanned along the resort's outer edge. But since some time ago, all the pressure and weight of your increasing responsibilities had suddenly just came crashing down on you, and you found yourself taking cram school more often than not due to your parents' constant urging. There just simply wasn't any time for you to take the long vacation you desperately craved. Now that things have finally lessened up to nothing but socializing with your parents' acquaintances, this was the first place you'd thought of for the perfect getaway. Just hide away from the rest of the world for a little bit before reality kicks in and you'd sink back into your busying routine. Here, you could finally have some peace and quiet, be able to breathe easier for once. No more business events or get-togethers, no more forced polite conversations over tall glasses of champagne. If you were going to party, then you should at least do it properly. You figured that aside from relaxation and watersports, Resonance Beach Resort had exactly that.

You'd switched over to your spare phone for the duration of your stay. If your parents decided they've had enough of your “childishly selfish acts”, they'd be greeted by a long period of ringing without answer, followed by an irksome beep and the message that, "sorry, the number you've dialed is not available".

The fight still simmered fresh at the front of your mind, and you shook your head in an attempt to brush it away. A small part of you felt almost guilty about your abruptly impromptu runaway, but it was merely a fleeting thought that passed as quickly as it had come. You knew how hard it was for your parents since what had occurred years ago, and that they were afraid of the same thing happening with you. Still, it wasn’t fair for you to bear the burden of two and act in as a mere substitute only to make someone else feel a bit better. Since when did you owe your parents your entire summer break to play pretend anyways? It isn't as if it actually helped you do anything except feed your growing boredom and frustration for hours on end.

You walked into the entrance hall and made your way to the reception area that sat in the middle of the gentle hum of music and red carpets and golden chandeliers. After going through the check-in process, you received your room cards and headed toward your room to drop off your luggage first.

The west-side elevator was mainly empty aside from a few other visitors who, like you, arrived earlier than most do. They’d entered before you and stood along the side panels, each scrolling through their devices for news and texts. Why take the time and money to come and visit, you wondered, if they were going to just be on their phones all the time? But then again, you were glad none of them paid any attention to you and savored the peaceful silence. The back of the elevator was adorned with clear glass panes that overlooked the beachside, allowing riders to gaze out at the scenery below them as they rose high above ground. You stared at the swaying palms and foaming waves in the distance, and thought that—despite being here so many times before—the view had never looked so welcoming before. You couldn’t wait until you could get down there and enjoy the feel of the warm sunshine on your back, hear nothing but the calming hum of the ocean.

There was a short ding! as the elevator doors opened and a middle-aged woman exited. You turned briefly to watch her leave and the doors clang shut once more behind her. Some passengers shifted around to space themselves more evenly upon her departure, but other than that, it was the same, still, silence as before. A few more minutes passed, and the process repeated until it was just you and another man standing by the front. On the controls panel, only one floor button was lit up.

He was handsome in the most traditional sense, tall and fit with tousled dark hair, flawlessly smooth skin and wide doe eyes directed at his phone screen. Although he was only dressed in a simple graphic tee and sweatpants, they looked too expensive for the average person to afford and the look suited him so well he could no doubt pass for the modern-day version of Cinderella’s Prince Charming. You almost laughed at the thought. That had been your reaction too when you first saw your ex, and you fell for him so quickly, so easily, it didn’t take much to convince you that he loved you as much as you loved him. After all, why not? His family had been wealthy and influential like your own, and your parents—mostly your mom—had absolutely adored him. You thought you’d been living the perfect fantasy until it all broke down and your palace had turned into nothing more than rubble and ashes.

In the quiet buzz of the elevator, you could hear as the stranger dialed a number on his phone and put it to his ear. Whoever on the other side must’ve answered immediately, because the man started to talk right away.

“Hey, where are you guys?”

“Okay, just checking that you’re in the suite because I don’t have the key.”

“Yeah, I’m almost there, why?”

“Woo wants another bag of his favorite chips from the convenience store? Seriously? We’re at a fancy beach resort and he wants chips from the convenience stores? God.”

“Yeah, I brought them, don’t worry. I swear he stuffed my trunk full of them when I wasn’t looking because I barely even have space in there anymore. Geez, you’d think he would die if he went a day without those.”

“Yeah, okay. Mm-hmm. That’s fine by me. Sounds fun. See you.”

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop on the conversation, but the slight echo in the space made it easy for you to hear every word the man said. And for some reason, it brought back long-ago memories of you and your brother, having the time of your lives marveling over the elevator’s view. Arguing about whose snacks the ones in the bag were. Roaming around the resort like it was your own home. That wasn’t possible now, of course. He was farther away than ever, and happier. There wasn’t anything you could do except be happy for him, though that did nothing to help the sore ache in you.

Your entire life felt like a train wreck at the moment, but then again, that was why you were here at Resonance Beach Resort in the first place. And as the elevator dinged once more, you were determined to make your summer better. Much better.

An afternoon in the sun seemed to do its trick.

After spending several hours out by the rolling waves, reading magazines and enjoying the spontaneity of doing whatever you’d wanted to on a whim, you were ready to call it a day. The freedom was exhilarating, and though you’d done much less that you would’ve on a typical weekday, you felt much more fulfilled than before. You’d eaten a quick informal dinner down in the dining hall, too tired to spend time on a full-course meal, only stopping by the vending machine on your way back to your room for a drink.

You inserted your money into the slot, pausing for a moment to look at your choices. Ginger ale would be good, you decided absentmindedly, your thoughts already drifting elsewhere. When the drink rolled out of the machine, you stooped to pick it up before preparing to leave. You turned and, not realizing there was someone behind you, ran right into them, your arm bumping against theirs. The impact knocked the can of ginger ale out of your hands and you quickly bent down to pick it up before it could roll away.

“I’m sorry, that was my fault.”

You straightened up to see the man from the elevator. He rubbed his neck sheepishly, an apologetic smile on his face. He was close enough that you could see the curved bow of his lips and the way his eyes crinkled in good humor, the way the tips of his ears were red in embarrassment at having knocked into you.

You blushed at the close proximity between you and the stranger, before remembering your manners and shaking your head lightly, “No, I’m sorry, it was my fault as well. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

The two of you stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say or what to do, until the man’s eyes landed on the room card in your hand.

“Suite 1009? What a coincidence, my friends and I are right next door. Want me to walk you back since we’re—you know—going the same way?”

You gave a little startled laugh, finding a bit of comfort in the fact that even a man as good-looking and confident-seeming as him could stumble over his words in situations like this. You’d pegged him for the type with an air of arrogance, but his voice held a sort of genuine sincerity and modesty along with the charm you’d expected. “Of course, I’d love that.”

As you walked down the corridor together, he seemed to realize something, and started in surprise, “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name’s Jaehyun. Jung Jaehyun.”

“I’m (Y/N),” you smiled. “It’s nice to meet you. Is this your first time here?”

“Well, yes, my friends and I were planning to go somewhere for the summer, and one of my friends recommended this resort. How did you tell?”

“I used to come here a lot, but I haven’t visited in a while. I came back to escape city life, I guess, though I must admit I missed this place tons. The things adult life takes away from you are just plain cruel.”

“I know right? Sometimes I wish I could just go back to seventeen and—”

“Relive that teenage dream?” you finished.

He laughed. “Yeah, exactly.”

“That’s what everyone says.”

“What, don’t you agree?” he looked at you in feigned shock.

You looked up at the ceiling as if searching for the answer in the lights above. “Yes,” you said truthfully, “I do agree.” Though it wasn’t exactly how you felt completely all the time, there was no denying that at least you’d loved the various aspects teenage years had to offer.

“You sound almost cynical about it.”

“Do I?” you shook your head. “Oh, well, personally, maybe, I guess?”

He gave you a weird look. “Think you could sound any more unsure about that?”

The two of you burst out laughing, the sound echoing against the walls of the hallway. As you chatted with Jaehyun, there was an undeniable tingle at the bottom of your stomach, spreading to the tips of your finger and your rosy cheeks. You didn’t know if you were willing to fall in love again, especially after your previous failures and bad encounters in romance that extended beyond your last relationship, but there was no denying that Jaehyun was fun to be around and you enjoyed his company immensely.

So when you both arrived at your destinations, you almost felt sorry to go. You lingered for a second, turning to him almost hesitantly.

Of course you’d see him again, being next-door neighbors for the next few weeks or so, as long as he’s here, but you didn’t want to leave and be all alone by yourself just yet.

Jaehyun seemed to feel the same, and he paused. “So, see you soon?”

You started to respond with a definite yes, but didn’t get a chance to answer. The door next to yours opened slightly, and some inaudible conversing trickled out from the crack. You caught a few words in the back-and-forth as you stood by your room, an amused smile at your lips. Jaehyun rolled his eyes, clearly used to this type of behavior from his friends.

“Oh, don’t mind them. They’re always like this.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “They seem fun to be around.”

“Yeah, yeah, when they’re not nagging twenty-four-seven at me to get snacks for them.” Though you could see by the teasing grin on his lips that he was only kidding.

Jaehyun’s friend pushed the door open a little more so that the conversation became more distinctable. And then, a sudden recognition made you freeze in your tracks. Your heart dropped. No. No way. The smile fell from your lips, replaced with a rush of confusion and near-disbelief.

Was that…?

You heard his voice before you saw him.

“Jaehyun! You’re back, just in time—”

Brown hair, plump lips, and bright, playful eyes. His boyish features evolved into something more mature but not unlike its younger version, still lined with the same youthful innocence as years before. He was taller too, though in that moment, at first glance, you felt as if it was the only significant change in him. The familiarity jolted awake a feeling you had not felt since long ago, flipping back the pages of yesterday until it landed on a distant memory that seemed so close yet was so far away. It was like the world stopped spinning for a moment, freezing in time that had both given and taken so much from you.

Your stomach twisted with a mixture of fluttering anticipation and dizzy uncertainty.

Why here, of all times and places, did you have to meet Kim Jungwoo again?

Kim Jungwoo, who was your first love, but also your first heartbreak.

It all started the summer before your high school sophomore year, with an ice cream date as friends and a piggy back ride. You and Jungwoo had known each other for years, having met in elementary and developing a close bond over time. Though you each had your own separate friend groups, outside of school, the two of you often hung out together and spent time at each other’s houses. It wasn’t abnormal for you to have dinner at Jungwoo’s place—because your parents often went on business trips and rarely ever cooked even when they were home—and it certainly wouldn’t be a strange sight to see him on your couch, watching TV and snagging snacks from the basket on the coffee table as he waited for you to finish up your homework so the two of you could go out to the nearby park. It was practically routine when, two weeks after break began, he asked you if you wanted to go down to the beach with him and get some ice cream along the way. You texted back a quick “yes, of course” before flopping back onto your bed and blinking up at the ceiling as if in a dazed dream. And for some reason, you thought hard about what to wear.

It was an issue you never had to concern yourself with before. Jungwoo had seen you in your pajamas, bed hair and all, random mismatching clothes you’d thrown on in a hurry, and even ridiculous costumes you wore as a kid. He’d seen you down in your lowest low, face a mess with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Heck, he probably knew all your embarrassing moments by heart and could recite them on a whim. But recently, you’d started to feel more self-conscious around him, and as days passed, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror more and more, holding up different tops and pants in an attempt to decide which would look nicer. A few years ago, you would’ve laughed at the thought. You? Fussing over clothing for Jungwoo’s sake? Ridiculous, you’d never needed to. But now, it seemed that the fact that he was a boy—and a very attractive one too—just sank in, and suddenly you became all too aware of it.

After shuffling through your wardrobe for ten full minutes, you finally ended up with a closet strewn messily with discarded options and clothing racks and an outfit you dimly recalled that Jungwoo had once expressed his liking for. You’d chosen a pair of thin, spaghetti sandals that were lined with gold, a gift from one of your mother’s shopping sprees, and made an effort to brush your hair neatly to go along with it all. Good enough, you supposed, as you turned left and right to check up on your appearance. Hopefully.

You grabbed your phone and keys, scribbled a note for your parents that you doubted they’d even read, and made your way out the door. Jungwoo was waiting for you at the front, standing casually by his car with one hand in his pockets. Your heart beat faster as you approached, the continuous drumming resonating within your chest and ears.

He’d been looking down at the pavement, scuffling a stray pebble around with his toes, but quickly lifted his head at your footsteps.

“Hey,” he greeted, smiling up at you.

“Wow, looking unexpectedly grown-upish today,” you lifted an eyebrow, trying to mask your nervousness in his presence with the usual snarky remarks. You spoke with a heavy hint of sarcasm, meaning that you were only joking about the matter, but what you said was true in a way—Jungwoo did look nice, though you weren’t about to say that aloud to him. It was as if you’d just noticed how much older he’d become, and how much more matured he looked.

“Really,” he said flatly, though his eyes were crinkled in good humor. “You’re the only one in the dark then.”

You laughed. “Because other people still call you an adorable baby?”

“Haha, so funny.”

You settled into the passenger seat beside Jungwoo and watched as he leaned over to put the vehicle in ignition. His hair had grown longer since his last haircut a few months ago, and they fell over his eyes. He shook them out of his face, reaching up a hand to brush away any remaining strands that stuck to his skin. He turned to grin at you before switching over to your favorite radio station as he started to drive. You tapped your fingers to the beat, and not a minute later, the two of you were singing along to the familiar tune. Jungwoo’s voice soared up and down as he sang in a weird mock accent, and you tried hard to keep your own from trembling with uncontrollable laughter. You both knew that Jungwoo was an amazing singer, but even more so a natural at comedy.

Jungwoo parked the car a few blocks away, deciding that trying to find an open spot in the crowded beachside lots was too much of a hassle. Summer had lured many people out with the promise of good weather, and combined with the dazzling scenery of the sea, who was to say no? The brightness of the skies was all too infectious, your mood soaring like the winds above that cast a blessing of gentle coolness upon the world. It was all so perfect that you’d even surrendered to Jungwoo in a water fight, although quite begrudgingly and continuing to splash in his way afterwards.

The sparkling waterdrops glittered midair like multifaceted diamonds so that although knee deep in water, you felt almost as if you were living in the midst of a glowing fairytale. After spending some time among the rolling waves, the two of you decided to walk around a bit and let the warm air dry your clothes before going to the ice cream store. Morning went by all too quickly, and soon noon had arrived. The sun shone brilliantly overhead, the pavement burning at the soles of your shoes. You grimaced at the heat, hopping slightly to avoid getting scalded and wishing you’d worn something that wasn’t so flimsy and thin. Jungwoo seemed to notice your discomfort, glancing your way worriedly.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” you groaned. “But thanks for your concern.”

He stopped as if to consider something, then squatted down in front of you. “Here.”

“What—” you started in surprise, caught off guard by his sudden action.

“Come on, I’ll carry you.”

You thought your face couldn’t get any redder than it already was, but you swear it just did.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to. It’s my fault anyways. I should’ve worn something more suitable,” you managed.

He grinned up at you. “Yeah, you probably should’ve, but that's what I’m here for, right? Moral and well—physical—support when you make those beginner mistakes.”

“Argh, you bastard,” you half-huffed, half-laughed, whacking his shoulder lightly with one hand.

“Hey! I’m just trying to help here.”

Caught up in the slight back-and-forth, you’d forgotten entirely about the source of it all and let out a strangled gasp when a red-hot pain shot up your feet.

“Yeah, it’s not up for debate at this point. Come on, just get on already. Grab on tight.”

With surprising strength, Jungwoo hoisted you up upon his back, his arms wrapped firmly around your legs to secure you in place. Instinctively, you reached over to cling onto his neck like your life depended on it.

“Gosh, not—this—tight,” he choked out, and although you knew he was half-joking, you mumbled a laughing apology.

You were tense at first, afraid to make a single wrong move. But after a while, you felt tired of staying so still and uptight like a board and relaxed some more. When the sun’s rays stung at your eyes, you laid your head sideways against Jungwoo’s neck, your breaths falling together in the same even rhythm. He hummed a tune you did not recognize, probably another one he’d just made up randomly, and you smiled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you replied innocently. Just thinking how ridiculously likeable you are.

You wondered if Jungwoo could feel, through the thin fabric of your shirt, the pounding of your heart at his back, the same way you could smell the scent of the salty sea air and his favorite cologne on him. Raising a fingertip, you traced a heart lightly against his skin. He flinched. You held back a laugh. You’d done it right on his most ticklish spot.

He wouldn’t be able to tell, what you’d drawn and what you felt toward him, but at that moment, it felt like a nice secret, nestled comfortably within the confines of your heart. Maybe you’d tell him one day, when the time is right. You’d like to.

The ice cream shop of Jungwoo’s designation was just up the street. Apparently, it had opened just a while ago and, according to Jungwoo, he was dying for you to try some of their flavors. You didn’t have a favorite place you preferred, so you agreed without any conflict. As the two of you neared, you held on for just a little bit longer before hopping off reluctantly and fixing your clothes. You wished it didn’t have to end, that the two of you could stay that way forever, snug in each other’s embrace.

But it all changed when you walked inside the store.

The interior was neatly organized, with pastel-colored walls and light brown tables of different sizes scattered around the semi-spacious room, most of them occupied by other visitors. A long counter spanned the back of the shop, most of it built-in glass cases that displayed a colorful array of ice cream in their silver tubs. A couple workers stood behind it in sky-colored uniforms, occupied with a variety of tasks and tending to customers.

You breathed in softly, taking in the scent of chocolate and vanilla and an assortment of fruit. The air around you was cool, and you were immensely grateful for the air conditioners that made the atmosphere so welcoming after spending a long time in the sweltering sun.

“It’s nice here.”

“I know right?” Jungwoo grinned. “Just wait until you taste their ice cream. It’s the best.”

There was quite a line at the counter, and your skin itched with the particles of sand that had stuck to it uncomfortably. Your hair was wind-blown and a tangled mess atop your head, and you felt conscious of the fact that you probably looked like a mess. “Hey, Woo, I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“Alright,” he gave you a thumbs-up. “I’ll pick out something for you. I swear you’ll love it.”

“Okay, thanks,” you laughed. “I’ll look forward to it then.”

After fixing up your hair and wiping yourself clean with a paper towel, you felt semi-presentable and headed out of the restrooms to find Jungwoo. You didn’t see him at the tables nor in the line, but in the close distance, almost hidden from view the rest of the shop but clearly visible from where you were standing, caught your attention.

Jungwoo.

Except he wasn’t alone.

A pretty girl around your age stood by him, donning the uniform of the store workers. She seemed to have just gotten off her shift and was loosening her hair from the ponytail she’d previously kept it in. Jungwoo was chatting animatedly, and she laughed at something he said, then shot back with her own response. He reached over and engulfed her in his arms, swaying her from side to side almost exaggeratedly.

There was a familiarity, closeness, in the way they interacted, and as you watched on, you felt your heart slowly clench tighter and tighter until it felt impossibly suffocating. Was this what heartbreak felt like? An ache so terrible and soul-splitting that you couldn’t quench no matter how hard you tried.

At the side counter, they were still going at it. He grabbed at her to kiss her cheek, but she turned away, pushing herself out of his grasp. He made a few more futile attempts, to no avail, and the two of them burst out laughing, her high, lovely one mixing in with his lower, boyish baritone.

You looked down, and wished you could just disappear into a hole. When you returned to the table after you made sure the commotion in the front had died down, Jungwoo was already waiting with the ice cream. One for him and the other, your favorite favor. He handed yours to you, but you found that you didn’t have the appetite for it anymore. You managed to muster up a feeble “thanks” and a strained smile, staring at the cone in your hands.

“What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t see Jungwoo’s expression, but you could hear the concern lacing his voice. As if he wasn’t laughing so merrily just a second ago.

“Nothing,” you replied, staring at the table. “I should probably go now. My parents said we were going out for lunch today.”

“But you said you didn’t have any plans,” Jungwoo said, confused.

“Well,” you shrugged, “It’s really my mom’s. Anyways, see you later.”

The bell jangled behind you as you exited the shop, the sound not as cheerful as it had been just a while before. A rush of hot air greeted you, but the stinging at your feet could no longer compare to that of the pain in you.

“Oh, okay. See you.” You could still hear his disappointed voice, although you couldn’t fathom just why he wouldn’t be glad to have some time with his girlfriend without you there as an awkward third-wheeler.

You didn’t see Jungwoo again that summer.

TO BE CONTINUED.

thanks for reading! send an ask or comment to be in taglist for upcoming chapters!

#renjunbae's works #resonancebeach #resonancebeachcollab #kim jungwoo #jungwoo x reader #nct #nct 127 #jungwoo #fem!reader #romance

46 notes · View notes

aceofspadegrass · 3 years

Text

Cake! Heaven! Now!

Characters: Kuina Hikari, Ann Rizuna, Tatta Koudai

Genre: Fluff. It's Kuina and Ann baking a cake. Oh, and Tatta's there too. He's vibing. :D

1.5k words

Nobody really thought that much about food at the Beach.The kitchen was always well stocked, and people always offered to cook food for the many people that resided there, and by grand chances there were always a few cooks here or there. There was little guarantee that all the cooks would be the same by the end of the day, thanks to the threat of death looming over everyone within the Borderlands, but there wasn’t a shortage of good food.

Between the meal times, the kitchen was usually always empty, save for the occasional person who would sneak in for a snack or people coming in to restock the pantries and fridges. The doors were always open, and nobody really thought about using it for anything bad, since there was so much more things they could be focusing their time on. Like being drunk. Or singing All Star in the bathroom.

But that’s not what Kuina was here for, going through the pantries and looking for the items she needed. She had woken up that morning which a slight craving for cake, and after briefly hanging out with Chishiya and watching him turn a Rubik’s Cube into a salt shaker, she ended up in the kitchen.

Kuina was so deep in attempting to find the flour she didn’t notice someone walk into the kitchen and watch her until she found the flour and turn around, Kuina humming in mild surprise when she spotted Ann standing there and looking at all of the stuff she had set out.

“ What’s the occasion?” “ Hm?” Ann gestures to the baking supplies. “ You’re making a cake? For what occasion?" Kuina looks at the flour in her hand, then back up at Ann with a smile. “ Wanna make a cake with me, Ann?” Ann stands there silently, staring back. Kuina doesn’t falter, and she comes over and sets down the flour and goes to wash her hands. Ann ends up following her to the sink and washes her hands as well, Kuina flashing her another smile. “ Aww, you do!” “ I have nothing else to do, and I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” Kuina chuckles, and she goes back to the little baking station she set up, opening up the bag of flour and grabbing a measuring cup. “ Yeah! Hey, maybe you can start with all the wet ingredients!” Ann nods, but she makes a detour to the oven first, preheating it. “ You almost forgot to preheat the oven, Kuina. We would’ve had to wait longer.” Kuina looks back, then giggles. “ Oh, whoops. Thanks Ann!” Ann merely nods, and she comes back, grabbing the other bowl and starting to add in the wet ingredients. She idly picks up the bag of cocoa powder, raising a curious eyebrow. “ A chocolate cake?”

“ Mmhmm. Thought I might as well have some pizzaz. Do you like chocolate cakes, Ann?” “ I prefer vanilla, actually, but chocolate isn’t that bad.” Ann stirs the mixture, glancing at the piece of paper that had the recipe on it so she didn’t use the wrong proportions. Kuina pours the cocoa powder into boiling water and stirs so it would become smooth, already finished with mixing up the dry ingredients. “ Vanilla’s a good flavour too. I think Chishiya would like vanilla, he seems like he wouldn’t want anything too exciting." “ I could see that.” Ann finishes mixing, and she adds it to the dry mixture slowly as Kuina starts mixing it together. The hot cocoa mixture went in last, Kuina making sure everything was properly incorporated, and soon they had a bowl full of chocolate cake mix.

She smiles, and she pokes a finger against the spatula and licks it off. “ Mmmm, cake mix~” “ That’s raw batter, you do realize that, right?” “ Yeah? So?” Kuina looks to Ann with a smile. “ Cake batter is good as hell! Here, try some!” She holds the chocolate batter covered spatula towards Ann, who just stares at it, then back up at Kuina. Kuina just kindly smiles at her, and Ann sighs, slowly pushing her hand away. “ I’m going to decline for now. I’m sure it’ll be just as good when it’s baked in the oven.” Ann says, and Kuina pouts a little playfully, her stick leaning against her lip and nearly threatening to fall off. It stays on, and Kuina picks up the bowl and goes over to the pans, which weren’t even lined. Kuina laughs a little, still holding the bowl as she looks over at Ann. “ Um…. Ann? A little help?” “ Did you forget to prep the pans as well?” Ann comes over, grabbing the cooking spray. Kuina just quietly laughs. “ The call of the cakes were pulling me in, you can’t blame me. I promise I’m not this forgetful, I just was excited to make some cake!” Ann sprays the pans down, then lines them with parchment paper. “ So it would seem. I believe you are quite capable of remembering, otherwise you would have never made it this far within this world. I can’t blame you, when something catch your attention, it’s hard to not focus on it.” Kuina nods excitedly. “ See? The call of the cake!” She starts pouring the batter into the pan, which was large enough to take all of the batter prepared comfortably, Kuina making sure to scrape the bowl for maximum chocolatey goodness. She sets the bowl down and takes the pan, going over to the oven and carefully sliding it in and closing the oven. There was a little egg timer nearby, Kuina picking it up and turning it to the 35 minute mark. She sets the egg down on the benchtop and nods in approval, staring at the oven. “ Mission success, one cake now baking!” Ann just offers a small amount of applause, Kuina beaming to herself. She turns around and holds her hand out for a high five, Ann raising an eyebrow again. “ Oh?” “ High five, Ann! We did it!” Kuina chirps, and she continues to hold her hand out. Ann looks at Kuina, then huffs with an amused smile, and meets her hand with her own, Kuina grinning even wider.

“ We did it.” Ann looks at the oven. “ I suppose you’re not going to be leaving the kitchen, are you." “ I mean, someone has to make sure the cake doesn’t burn the Beach down! Wouldn’t that be a terrifying sight to see.” Ann nods. “ That would certainly be quite unsettling to see. Hopefully it doesn’t happen any time soon.” “ Yeah, it’s pretty nice here.” Kuina smiles, knowing full well that there was a chance she may need to somehow escape unscathed if the event came.

“ So, while we wait then, what do you want to talk about?” Ann asks, and Kuina looks at her, eyes widening a little in surprise.

“ ‘We’? You’re staying with me?” Ann shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. “ I see no reason why not. It would be pretty lonely staying here by yourself, and I would rather like to see the product of the cake we both had a hand in making.” Kuina smiles, and she ends up launching herself into a conversation about the different games the both of them had gone through. Neither mentioned any of the deaths that may have occurred, more focused on how the games worked and how they managed to get through.

The minutes ticked by quickly, and the egg timer rings, Kuina visibly brightening up and going to the oven immediately, making sure to grab the oven mitts on the way. Ann watches in amusement as she pulls out the hot pan out from the oven, the cake sitting prettily in the center. Ann pulls a toothpick out from a little container nearby and pokes the cake, pulling it out cleanly. “ It’s perfect! Yes-“ Kuina cheers to herself, and she grabs the edges of the parchment sticking out, and with a count to three, she quickly pulls out the chocolate cake and sets it on a plate she had set out. She smiles at it like a proud cake mother, and she grabs a knife and carefully cuts the little dome off, which she just kind of sets aside. “ Okay, now I just have to chill it for a bit, then we can frost it!” Kuina picks up the plate and walks to the fridge. There was already someone there, casually drinking milk straight out of a carton. “ Hi Tatta.” Kuina greets. Tatta waves quietly, stepping aside as Kuina opens the fridge and puts the cake inside and leaves Tatta to his own devices. Ann was cleaning the used equipment now, humming to herself. “ Need some help?” Kuina offers, and Ann merely steps aside to let Kuina squeeze in and help wash everything up.

By the time they finished, the cake was chilled enough that Kuina could take it back out. The frosting was already premade, apparently leftover from some other dessert. Thankfully, it wasn’t some crazy flavour that clashed with the chocolate, and soon they had a fully frosted chocolate cake. Kuina was grinning happily. “ Alright! We did it Ann!” Kuina cheers once more, and Ann nods to the fact.

“ We did it.” Ann answers back, and suddenly Kuina has a cake knife, brandishing it like a proud cake mom as Ann politely steps away to not get accidentally hit by it. “ Well, time to eat our beautiful creation! I’ll bring some to Chishiya later, if he wants some. Tatta, come over here, you get cake too-“ “ Oh, yay!”

#aib #alice in borderland #aib fanfic #alice in borderland fanfic #kuina hikari #ann rizuna #tatta kodai #kuina x ann #ann x kuina #tatta's here too because he deserves cake as well #he doesn't do anything except drink milk in the background #how they got fresh ingredients i haven't the slightest of clues #the Beach is magic now #just them baking a cake together and vibing #it's beautiful #great now i'm hungry for cake #i write kuina like a very happy churro #i think that's how she is..... hopefully #this is so wholesome

50 notes · View notes

buck-buck-boose · 3 years

Text

I’ll Love You ‘Til I Die

Masterlist Summary: A Brooklyn schoolgirl fell in love with James Buchanan Barnes at the tender age of nine. With this love she made a vow, promising to love him until her very last breath.

Pairing: Bucky x OFC

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.1k

Author’s Note: We are swiftly approaching chapters that no longer take place in the 30s. Savor it while it lasts, babes!

Chapter Nine: The Gift

March 10, 1936

Throughout the morning of Bucky’s 19th birthday, Lottie was full of energy, bouncing through her apartment. As she got dressed for the day, her gaze kept flickering to the brown package on her bed; the gift she’d picked out for Bucky.

For the past two months, she’d walked past John’s Bargain Store, constantly eyeing the garment in the window. Even for a bargain store, it was costly, but she’d saved up for weeks. Lottie had decided that she could splurge on it because it wasn’t some little knick knack or frivolous thing; he needed it. It also happened to suit his eyes beautifully.

Bucky had stressed that he wanted his birthday to be a quiet affair; she respected that, but she still wanted to make it special for him. So here she was, baking a cake for him before she went over to his apartment for the rest of the day.

Lottie had discovered a chocolate cake recipe that thankfully didn’t require eggs or dairy; her Ma would throw a fit if she dipped into their supply of eggs, milk, and butter.

Lottie poured a mixture of flour, sugar, salt, baking soda, and cocoa powder into a bowl; with deft hands, she whisked it together, removing any lumps of powder.

She worried her lip as she stirred, thinking about how poorly this baking project could turn out; this chocolate cake wouldn’t compare to the sweet, fluffy ones sold in the shops down the street.

In a separate bowl, Lottie measured out a cup of water, some vanilla, and vinegar. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of the vinegar, its odor too strong for her liking.

She poured her dry mixture into the liquid and stirred it well, making sure there were no clumps of dry ingredients. She transferred the batter into a baking dish and slid it into the oven.

For 35 minutes, Lottie anxiously waited. She wrote in her journal, cleaned the kitchen, and listened to music as she waited for the cake to finish baking. Then she’d have to leave it out on the sill to cool; afterwards, she’d whip up some icing to put on top.

When the time came, she pulled the dish out with pot holders and brought it to an open window; the chill of the outside air would hopefully help it cool faster.

Lottie figured it would be cooled after an hour, so she spent that hour getting ready. It took nearly half of that time to tame her unruly curls; after getting the frizz out of them, the best she could do was a pinned-back look.

She wore a smart brown skirt and cream sweater; they were by no means fancy, but they made her feel put together. With a touch of mascara and a swipe of lipstick, she was ready; all she needed to do was ice the cake.

The icing was simple enough, calling for some vanilla, water, powdered sugar, and cocoa powder. Lottie retrieved the cake from its place on the window sill and gently poured the icing on, using a knife to even it out across the top.

Lottie let out a sigh of relief at its completion; now all she had to do was transport it to Bucky’s apartment safely.

She popped back into her room to grab the package, then went back into the living room to shrug on her coat. Lottie fumbled around, shoving the package under her armpit and carefully picking up the baking dish. She’d have to be careful while walking over, but she’d be alright.

Lottie set off on the four block journey, walking slowly so as not to drop either the package or the cake.

When she arrived at the tenement, she didn’t have a free hand to knock on their apartment door, so she just kicked at the door, hoping it would be enough to announce her presence. Mrs. Barnes opened the door in a hurry, “Oh Lottie! What a joy to have you, and my what a cake! Come in, come in.”

Mrs. Barnes whisked away the cake and package, shooting Bucky a look, “Do be a gentleman and take the young lady’s coat.”

Bucky nodded, “‘Course, Ma.” He took her coat, but not before he enveloped her in a bear hug. “Y’know, you really didn’t have to bake a cake. You’re real grand for doing that.”

Lottie smiled at him, “Only the best for the birthday boy.”

When Steve arrived, there was plenty of laughter and high spirits; he had finally recovered from his months-long bout of illness and was right as rain.

They all sat down for a late lunch of navy bean soup, Bucky’s favorite.

Mrs. Barnes ladled some soup into her bowl, “So Lottie, how’s this year of school been for you?”

“It’s been swell. I’ve finally figured out what I wanna do when I graduate. I’m gonna go to nursing school; I’m not sure where, but it’ll probably be in Brooklyn.”

“Oh, big plans,” Mrs. Barnes commented, smiling encouragingly.

Bucky cut in, “I like to think that Steve and I actually inspired her to pursue a career in patching people up. She’s a real expert after having to do it for us so much.”

Lottie giggled at that, and the lunch conversation continued, full of laughter and banter. Even Becca, the shy 12 year old, piped up every once in a while with a toothy grin.

There were no candles for the cake, so they used a few matches from Lottie’s supply. When he blew out the candles, Bucky put on a big show of making a wish, but he refused to tell anyone what he wished for.

“Alright, it’s time for gifts!” His mother clapped her hands and placed three packages on the table. Steve had bought him a copy of Brave New World, a science fiction novel that had Bucky grinning in excitement.

Bucky’s family had bought him a smart wristwatch; he thanked his mother with a kiss on the cheek and ruffled Becca’s hair. She fondly smacked his hand away and fixed her mussed hair.

Now it was her turn, “I know it’s nothing special, but I figured it was something you needed.” Lottie felt the need to explain herself, just in case he ended up not liking it.

Bucky tore open the brown paper and revealed a deep blue jacket. It had two rows of buttons going down the front with large lapels, looking very much like a pea coat. Except, instead of extending further down as a pea coat would, the coat stopped at the waist. The inside was woolly, which would provide a good layer of warmth, and the jacket was made sturdy by a thick canvas layer. Lottie cared most about its color, though; it was the color of the far-off ocean on a sunny day, which would complement his thick, dark hair, and bring out the brighter blue of his eyes.

“Little Lottie,” he breathed, “I dunno what to say.” He ran his fingers over the thick fabric in disbelief. It had been years since he’d gotten a new coat; his tattered old one nearly gave him hypothermia every winter.

Lottie nudged him, a smirk appearing on her lips, “Check the pockets.”

Bucky dug his hands into the pockets and burst into laughter; he pulled his hands out of the pockets and revealed a few matchbooks that had been tucked into the pockets.

Lottie beamed at his laughter, “You’re always asking me for a light. Figured I’d give you enough so you always have one with you.”

Bucky pulled her into a bone-crushing hug and ruffled her hair, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re the best damn gift-giver ever? Sorry, Steve.”

She laughed and shoved his hand away; she’d spent too long managing her curls for him to mess it all up. “It’s nothing, really, just thought I’d get you something practical.”

Mrs. Barnes clapped her hands, “Let’s see how it fits!”

Bucky shrugged it on over his shirt and suspenders, pulling his arms through. It fit him like a glove, stretching over his broad shoulders and fitting the length of his arms just right.

“My, he looks real handsome in that coat, doesn’t he, Lottie?” Mrs. Barnes smiled knowingly at her. Any woman her age could recognize a lovesick girl.

“He does,” Lottie responded quietly, taking in the way it looked on him. Bucky grinned at her, “You really do have impeccable taste, Little Lottie.”

In coats? Or in men? She didn’t know. And she suspected that she never would.

Becca turned on the radio in the corner of the room, “I think this calls for some Benny Goodman!”

Prompted by the bright notes of ‘Here’s Love in Your Eyes,’ Bucky grabbed his mother’s waist and began leading her around the room in a foxtrot. Steve, Becca, and Lottie took turns dancing in pairs; Becca and Steve were especially funny together, as she kept stepping on his toes— whether it was on purpose or by accident, Lottie couldn’t tell —and Steve, ever the gentleman, didn’t say a word about the pain he was in.

After a while, the sun dipped towards the horizon; Lottie’s curfew was fast approaching. She placed a hand on Bucky’s upper arm, turning his attention from his mother, “I gotta head back, Buck. I hope the rest of your birthday is lovely.”

“Okay, I’ll be ready in a moment, lemme put that coat back on,” he responded, walking towards the kitchen table; he grabbed his brand new coat and hers as well.

Lottie protested, “I can walk the four blocks just fine, don’t leave your own birthday party on my account!”

Bucky shook his head, “Nah, a gentleman always walks a dame home. I’ll be back in a moment, Ma!” He guided her out the door and she let out a huff, “Why d’you always have to be so stubborn about this chivalry stuff?”

“Setting a standard for all the other guys in your life. If you step out with a guy and he doesn’t treat you like a real gentleman, he’s not worth your time.”

Lottie didn’t know how to respond to that, so she simply shoved her hands in her pockets in anticipation for when they would step out into the brisk evening air. Once they were on their way down the block, Bucky pulled out a box of Lucky Strikes and lit a match, puffing on the cigarette until it was properly lit.

She watched him in action, taking great pleasure in her quiet observance of his little habits and quirks.

Bucky breathed the smoke into his lungs and let it trail out. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and glanced over at her, “Wanna try?”

She thought of how scandalized her mother would be by the scent of cigarette on her clothes.

“Sure,” she smiled, accepting the cigarette that was handed to her. Lottie took a confident breath in, letting a stream of smoke into her lungs. She immediately regretted her confidence, as she ended up stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to cough until her sides hurt.

Bucky burst out into laughter at her misfortune, “Little Lottie, you gotta be careful on your first try, that smoke was nearly coming’ out your ears!”

Lottie glared at him, “If it wasn’t your birthday, you’d be real sorry for that.”

He grinned at her and threw his arm around her shoulder, “Let’s just get you back home before they put you in a TB ward.”

Bucky had finished his cigarette by the time they reached the front steps of her tenement. “Thanks for walking me home, Bucky. Even though you nearly killed me there.”

“Wasn’t me, it was your own ambition,” he winked. Suddenly, his expression grew serious, more fond. “Thanks again for this coat, Little Lottie. It may not seem like much to you, but it’s just aces, y’know? Haven’t had a new coat in ages. It means a lot to me.”

Lottie smiled kindly, “You’re welcome, Bucky. Wouldn’t want you to end up like Steve, cooped up in bed with sickness every winter.”

Bucky nodded and pulled her into one last hug. She relished in the feeling of being held so gently, encompassed by warmth.

She whispered, “G’night Bucky.”

“G’night Little Lottie.”

And then he was gone; walking down the block on his own, a newly lit cigarette in his hand a spring in his step.

At the end of the block, he turned to wave one last goodbye, a cheeky grin on his face. At that sight, she breathed the vow,

“James Buchanan Barnes, I’ll love you ‘til I die.”

#1930s bucky #1940s bucky #40s!bucky x original female character #40s!bucky x ofc #40s!bucky #30s!bucky x ofc #30s!bucky #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky x ofc #bucky x original female character #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes series

21 notes · View notes

toomanyfandoms02 · 4 years

Text

Kisses // Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

This is a request for both @boiled-onionrings and @aberrant-annie ! I ADORED writing this!!!

Summary - Reader is an artist with serious art block. So she decides to kiss her best friend all over and turn it into art.

Word Count - 2.2k

This is based off of THIS gif from @nationgubler

I loved being an artist, but with any career in the arts, there is a time where you have some kind of block.

And I was having artist block, right now.

I sat in my studio, my back laying against the floor of the cold tile. As if the ceiling was going to spark some kind of Vincent Van Gogh idea in my head. I lightly brought my hand to my face, slapping my forehead.

"Come on y/n! There's something in there, anything, anything!" My head lolled to the side in frustration, eyes closed. I let out a loud groan of frustration, very grateful in this moment for choosing the most soundproof room of my apartment to do art. This was out of courtesy of my very kind neighbors. I opened my eyes slowly, hoping that something would come soon so I wasn't so damn angry. That's when I saw it.

The book Matthew had gotten me for my birthday a few months ago, sitting right next to my painting of lips, one of my best selling prints.

"Hmmm." I sat up slowly, contemplating if I should even ask this favor of him, but Matthew really cared about my career. Maybe I was in luck, so I dialed his phone number. He answered within 2 rings.

"Hey y/n, what's up?" He sounded out of breath, making his voice slightly raspy. This caused my heart to beat a bit faster.

"Uh, I have a favor to ask you, are you okay? You sound out of breath." I could hear him huff another deep breath.

"Yeah! I'm on a run in the park right now."

"Oh! Well don't worry about it then, I can save this-"

"No no! What do you need, I'm on my way home." This was honestly the most nerve-wracking thing ever, asking my best friend And someone I'm slowly falling for to do a kind of scandalous pose for a painting for me.

"It's kind of, weird. It involves art. I can't come up with any ideas and this one came into my head, you can totally say no, I won't-"

"Honey, good lord, I'm not gonna judge you, just tell me." He laughed in the end, easing my stress only slightly at the sound of it.

"Alright, it would be a portrait of you from waist up, but, also, I would, ugh. I feel weird about it!" I paused momentarily, sighing into the phone and making a pouty face that he *thankfully* couldn't see. "Then I would put kisses all over you, to like, I don't know."

"Spice it up?"

"Yes."

"I'll be over soon, I'm gonna take a shower. See you soon sunshine!" And that was it. Nearly no hesitation and he agreed to it.

*Why did I worry so much?*

Probably because you like him so much, *dumbass*.

I tidied up my studio as a distraction, waiting for a knock at my door. My wooden easel clicked on the floor as I set it near the big window in the room. I set a stool in front of it for Matthew, facing him towards it for good natural lighting. I plopped a 24x16 canvas onto the easel. My heart nearly jumped from my chest as I heard the knock at my door. I almost slipped running to it.

I opened the door to see a smiling Matthew. He was leaning against my door frame dressed in a white button-down and some regular jeans.

"I don't see you wearing any lipstick, how are you gonna manage putting kisses all over me without it?" He teased with a smirk.

This man really knew how to make my heart stop, it was almost insane how much of an effect he had on me. But I was surprisingly good at hiding it.

"I haven't put it on yet you nerd." I hit his chest lightly, moving out of the doorway so he could come in. "You can still back out if you feel weird about this. And also, this is gonna take a while." I looked up at him nervously. He grabbed my shoulders, looking right into my eyes.

"I love helping you with art, stop thinking you're such a burden." He shook me a little, bringing another smile to my face.

"Fine, go sit on the stool back there and unbutton your shirt a few buttons," I ordered him as if I had any confidence when it came to him. I walked to the bathroom adjacent to my studio, grabbing my red lipstick and applying it in the mirror.

"I love the color!" Matthew shouted from the doorway of the bathroom, almost causing me to drag the makeup across my face. I pulled it away from my lips slowly, looking over at the idiot who was constantly scaring me. I gave him the death stare. He quickly brought his hands into a surrender position and backed from the room and into the studio. But not without giving me a wicked smile. I rolled my eyes and followed him.

"Sit!" I shooed him onto the stool I set up for him.

"Yes ma'am!" He saluted, sitting gracefully onto the wobbly seat.

"You promise this won't be too weird?" I asked a final time, a very *very* small part of me hoping that he would think it was too weird so I didn't have to torture myself even more with this horrible crush of mine. He just stared at me with one eyebrow raised, as to silently say.

*Do I really have to assure you again that I don't care?*

"Alright! Let go then." Another wave of anxiety shot through me as I leaned down to his level. My hands parted his hair to where I wanted it. I then kissed my thumb to make sure the lipstick was still wet enough to transfer, and sure enough, the red pigment was smudged onto the finger. Here we go.

I grabbed his face with both hands and brought my lips to his left cheek, leaving a kiss slightly above his cheekbone. I then left another kiss lower on the same cheek. On his right cheek, I put one right in the middle and one more near his chin.

I backed away from his face, pulling the lipstick from my pocket to reapply it. I watched his eyes as I put it on, seeing something I'd never seen in his eyes before.

"You okay Gubler?" I giggled a little, recapping the tube, I smacked my lips, ensuring that I got it everywhere. He blinked several times before shaking his head a little bit.

"Yeah! Uh, yes. Just zoned out." He nodded curtly, now venturing his eyes out the window.

"Okay weirdo." I chuckled. "I'm gonna kiss your chest now." I chuckled again, much more nervous than the previous one. He simply nodded and looked down at me with a small grin.

I got on my knees and opened his shirt a bit. Hopefully, he couldn't feel how much my hands were shaking, because let me tell you, I was *trembling*. I placed my hands on his shoulders and placed a kiss on the side of his neck first. I watched as Matthew sucked his lips into his mouth slowly tilting his head back. His hand was brought to his face and he left it there for a moment. I raised an eyebrow at him but quickly shrugged it off, I wasn't going to let this lipstick dry again.

I leaned down further, kissing his collar bone and then a final one near the center of his chest. At this point, Matthew was looking down at me again. He let off a loud breath and ran his tongue over his lips.

I stood up dusting my legs off, Matthew's eyes following me.

"Are you seriously okay? You're acting kind of funny." I came close to him, putting my hand on his shoulder. He looked like a puppy dog looking up at me from the stool.

"I've got a small headache I think." It was a quick answer that seemed like a lie.

"We can stop-"

"No!" I jumped back from him, startled. "No, it's seriously fine. I'm just gonna get ibuprofen from your cabinets." He stood so quickly and turned toward the door.

"I can get that for you!"

"No it's fine I got it." His voice was farther now, almost completely in the bathroom. Even from this far his voice sounded strangled.

*Was this weirding him out? It really seems like it was.*

I gathered my colors from my oil paint box and brought them to the small table next to my easel.

Just a few minutes later Matthew emerged from the bathroom, looking like he felt better.

"Looks like the ibuprofen is working fast." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He snickered, sitting on his stool with a suspiciously large smile. I just shook my head a walked up to pose him. I turned his shoulders slightly toward the window, opening the shirt to see the kisses. I frazzled his hair a little to give it a bedhead look and once I was happy with everything, I went back to my seat.

"Just look wherever is comfortable. I'm giving you free will on that." Of course, he chooses to look directly at me.

"You sure you wanna look at me during this whole process?" I joked, starting with some skin-colored paint on the canvas.

"Well yeah, you're the most interesting thing in the room." I could feel the tips of my ears burn at the comment, not bothering to hide the smile that formed on the face.

"Well, thank you." I kept my eyes on the canvas, partly because I was painting, and partly because I thought that if I looked in his eyes I might melt into a puddle.

I was finally done with the base of everything. I pretty much had an outline with the correct colors.

"Okay, I'm taking a break. Do you want to snack with me?" I stretched my legs as I stood from my chair, my arms flailing high in the air.

"Yeah, what are you getting?" His hands rubbed together like a mischievous fly.

"I made chocolate chip cookies last night. I'm gonna heat them up so they are melty." I excitedly padded my bare feet to the kitchen. I slipped 3 cookies onto a plate and placed them in the microwave for 20 seconds. My back leaned on the counter as Matthew peered over me at my cookies.

"Someones excited about cookies." I laughed, grabbing them for the microwave and setting them on the counter, eating half of it in one bite.

"And you say *I'm* excited." He replied with a mouthful, clearly poking at the way I ate the cookie.

"You just ate yours in one bite!" I shot back.

"Whatever." He grabbed another, eating that one whole as well, as melted chocolate, slipped down his chin. He raised his hand to wipe it off and I was not quick enough to stop him.

"I'll just touch it up when we go back." He looked at his hand that was a mixture of brown and red and made a pouty face at me. "It's fine, here." I handed him a rag to wipe his hands and we went back into the studio.

On the walk back I was already reapplying my lipstick so I could fix the smudge on his face. I slipped into the bathroom quickly, grabbing my makeup wipes to fix the smudge as well. He sat in the stool once again.

Much less nervous this time, I grabbed his face the same way I did before and kissed over the same spot, making it darker and more defined again. As I was about to pull away from his face, Matthew's hands grabbed my wrists, stopping me from leaning away.

"What are you doing?" My heart hammered against my ribs, and at this moment I was hoping he couldn't hear it.

"Do you think there's anything else that needs to be fixed up?" His voice came out in a whisper, I could feel it against my face. "Do you think my *lips* should be red too?"

*Was he saying what I think he was saying?*

Apparently he was, because we both leaned in with closed eyes, connecting our lips. He pulled me into his lap on the stool, grabbing the back of my neck to deepen the kiss. I was sure that I was getting lipstick on much more than his lips at this point.

After quite the makeout sesh, we pulled away, both panting.

"What was that for?" My brain was in a complete haze. I realized I was still on his lap and began standing up, only to be pulled back down by his hands.

"I decided to finally make a move." He chuckled, leaning his forehead on mine.

"You mean, you like me?"

"No, I make out with everyone, all the time." He deadpanned. I giggled, running my thumb across his lips and showing his all the red that had transferred.

"Totally worth it." He smirked, kissing the tip of my nose sweetly.

*I'm not gonna get anything done with this man around.*

#mgg #criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #MGG #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #mgg fic #mgg imagine #mgg gifs #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthewgraygubler

378 notes · View notes

mxndoscyarika · 4 years

Text

Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 4

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: snow/icy roads, food/drink, smut/masturbation (after last line break), two (2) swear words

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: I did it! I managed to write while also getting flooded with homework! I’m not completely sure when I’ll be able to get the next chapter out, but I’m super excited for you all to see what happens this chapter. Enjoy!

The lights flickered in the office, making Erin pause her work. Looking out the window, she was met with snow falling from the sky, flakes small enough that even the building next door wasn’t much more than a faint silhouette. It wasn’t anything atypical for that time of year, but she was not looking forward to driving through the snow. There was always someone who started sliding or ended up blocking a road.

She picked up her phone tiredly when it started ringing, not even looking at the contact. “This is Agent He.”

A warm voice came through the speaker. “Hi, honey.”

Hearing Marcus’s voice, even through a phone, was enough to get her to sit a little taller. “Hi, Marcus. What do you need?”

He let out a soft sigh. “Sorry, I know you’re probably busy, but Missy gets out of school soon and I was wondering if you could give her a drive home?” There was the sound of a crash nearby, followed by the scuffing of shoes against pavement. “I’m a bit busy right now and the school just called to say they’re closing early.”

Erin glanced through her schedule for the rest of the day. No meetings, just paperwork and some emails. Closing it with a click, she answered, “Yeah. Yeah, I can go pick her up. I’m just about done for the day and was thinking of heading out anyways.”

Marcus let out a sigh of relief. “You’re the best, Erin. I’ll text you the address and let Missy know you’re coming.”

“No problem,” she replied, tucking her phone between her shoulder and ear so she could pack up. “Stay safe out there, Marcus.”

He chuckled softly. “Of course, honeydew. I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

The call ended before she could respond. Shrugging to herself, she tucked her phone away and kept packing.

Due to the slower workday, people had time to kill. Erin tried to ignore the stares of her coworkers as she strode out of the office with her bag and a stack of folders. Some stopped her along the way to ask questions, and she sighed as their single question turned into what constituted a half-hour meeting that they could have scheduled. As much as she hated to seem dismissive, she had to cut them off and ask them to send an email with their concerns.

“Wait, where are you going?”

Glancing back over her shoulder, she answered, “Had something important come up, I’m heading out for the day.”

---

“Are you my dad’s special friend?”

Erin’s eyes widened. Words were lost on her as she tried to formulate an answer. They were certainly friends, and more than friends, but how far beyond that? “W-what do you mean by ‘special’, Missy?”

The young girl shrugged, playing with the zipper of her jacket. “Dad talks about you a lot. Well, he talks to you a lot. He told me that you’re the one he calls at night.”

She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned pale. He talked about her with Missy? “Oh. Yeah, that’s me, then.” Turning on the blinker to make a left, she said, “Your dad told me he’ll finish work as soon as he can, so we’ll head to my place, ok?”

In just a few minutes, she pulled into the garage of her apartment, trailing in slush and clumps of snow. Her tires had left compacted snow on the driveway, which meant the snow was planning to stick around for a while. Hopefully someone would add salt by the morning. Having a four-wheel-drive was great, but she couldn’t alter physics.

“Get warmed up by the fireplace and I’ll text your dad, ok?” She said, unlocking the apartment door and holding it open for Missy to enter. The little girl bounded in, taking off her shoes by the door so she wouldn’t leave tracks on the floor. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Do you have hot cocoa?” Missy asked, setting down her backpack by the dining table. She looked up at Erin curiously, her brown eyes sparkling.

Erin placed her folders on the table and nodded. “Yes I do, sweetie. Do you want to help? I have marshmallows somewhere….”

“Yes!!!” Missy cheered. She followed Erin to the spacious kitchen, her eyes growing wide when she saw the array of pots by the sink. “Are these all real plants?”

The greenery was one of Erin’s favorite parts about the apartment; a higher position at the FBI meant a bigger paycheck, and a bigger paycheck and relocation meant a bigger apartment. It still wasn’t large enough for a party of more than two or three people, but it did have more counter space and windows. Adorned with plants ranging from orchids to airplants to fiddle-leaf fig bushes, her living space was slowly turning into a nursery. Some would’ve said she had too many plants, but she wanted her home to be just a little more than plain walls and pretty lights.

“They are,” she answered, smiling. “I need to water them today, so I left them out on the counter this morning. Do you and your dad have plants at home?” Missy shook her head, marveling at the circular leaves of the pilea plant. Touching a leaf gently, she answered, “Dad always forgets to water them, so we only have fake ones.”

A chuckle left Erin’s lips as she placed the mug of milk into the microwave. “Remind me to never buy him plants as a present, then.”

When the milk was steaming, she took the mug out of the microwave and added a large scoop of powdery mixture. The liquid quickly turned to a silky dark brown, which was quickly topped off with a handful of marshmallows per Missy’s request.

While Missy started on her homework–who gave out homework on a snow day?–Erin took out a few ingredients to make cookies. Thankfully, she still had some flour and dark chocolate in the cabinet. If there was anything that could’ve warmed up the chilly apartment, it was the heat of the oven and the scent of freshly baked cookies.

Surprisingly, Missy was pretty well-behaved. In her experience, children around Missy’s age tended to be riddled with questions, almost overly excited. But Missy, on the other hand, seemed to fare well on her own. Perhaps it was a testament to her upbringing, or maybe she was just independent like her father. Either way, Erin appreciated the politeness and relaxation.

Once the cookies were baked, Erin took a seat across from Missy and started sorting through the reports. Some had urgent deadlines, but others could wait. And then there was the rat’s nest that was her inbox.

It was at that point when Missy finished her homework and started growing bored. She couldn’t blame her; her apartment could be cozy, but it definitely wasn’t arranged for a child.

“Do you want to do something together?” Erin asked, smiling a little. Setting down the file she was reading she mused, “If you want, we could find a movie. Or not, whatever you want. Just tell me.”

Missy’s request wasn’t surprising–she wanted to watch TV. So that’s what they did. They snuggled up on the sofa with a blanket tossed over their legs. Erin handed her the remote so she could pick a show or movie.

Before long, the warmth of the fireplace along with the soft haze of noise from the TV had lulled Missy to sleep, the head of brown waves resting against her arm. At first, Erin tensed. But once she realized it was just Missy, she forced herself to relax.

Smiling softly, she turned down the volume of the TV and slid her arm out from underneath her, catching Missy when she started falling over. She wondered if that was what parenting was; if it was just a series of questions and answers until the little one fell asleep.

But as she tried to get up, she found Missy’s hands scrunched in her shirt, keeping her in place. Not even a tug on her shirt could detach her.

Sighing, she sat back down and looked down at the little girl. The half-sitting position couldn’t be good for her back, and so far she hadn’t had any success in getting free. So, she did what anyone would do. Well, what she thought Marcus would do.

She leaned over and lifted Missy with ease, holding her close so they could both lie down.

Missy quickly settled herself into a more comfortable position, her cheek resting against Erin’s shoulder. The hands that once clung to her shirt came up to wrap around her neck, keeping her secured to Erin.

The FBI agent tried to ignore the warmth in her chest as Missy’s fingers wrapped around the collar of her shirt. Until then, she hadn’t realized how...small she was. How precious and warm and completely adorable. Sure, there was the cuteness that came with youth, but for a moment she let herself bask in the embrace of Missy Moreno.

As her eyelids grew heavy, Erin pulled the blanket up and let herself drift off.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Marcus knocked on her door. The sharp rapping on wood brought her out of her slumber. When she glanced at her watch, it was late into the evening.

Rather than making him wait an extra minute so she could wake Missy up, Erin stood from the couch and answered the door with the little girl on her hip.

Marcus looked tired, his beard a bit longer than usual and his hair mussed. But nevertheless, those beautiful brown eyes of his lit up at the sight of Erin and his daughter. Speaking softly, he said, “It looks like you two got along, huh?”

“I guess we did,” she replied, smiling. She stepped aside. “Why don’t you come in? Stay for dinner, Marcus.”

“I really shouldn’t,” he said bashfully, laughing softly. Seeing her with his kid all cuddled up sparked something in him that he hadn’t felt in a long time. And it terrified him.

He always wanted kids; it was no secret. And along with kids, he dreamt of getting married, and coming home to a family. The world let him have that for fewer than five years. It had been a long time since he’d come home to see Missy so content and at peace with life.

“You had a long day, sweetie,” she insisted, reaching for his wrist and pulling him in. “Just let me set her down and I can get started.”

Before he could offer to take Missy, she was already laying the girl back onto the couch. As he watched her, he remembered the way his wife used to cradle their baby, tucking her into blankets and placing little kisses on her forehead.

His heartstrings tugged painfully as Erin covered Missy with the blanket and smoothed down the hairs on the crown of her head fondly. Although he didn’t regret a moment of his previous marriage, part of him still wished he’d taken the plunge instead of redirecting his feelings towards Lisbon. Maybe if he did, they’d be in a completely different place in life.

Erin came up to him, tying back her hair. “I can make us some fried rice, how does that sound?”

“Perfect,” he replied, smiling. “Can I help you prep anything, honey?” There it was again. Fighting the rush of heat at the nickname, she walked with him to the kitchen and said, “Yes, I’d love some help.”

She and Marcus fell into a rhythm, music playing softly from the bluetooth speaker on her counter. While the rice cooker was puffing out steam (she didn’t have enough leftover rice), they both worked on preparing the other ingredients: spam, onions, egg, and garlic. Some things never changed.

“You’re very lucky,” she commented, leaning forward on the counter to watch him dice the onion. His movements were smooth and confident, fingers curled just slightly. “Missy’s a great kid.”

“She didn’t give you any trouble?” he asked, brows shooting up. When she shook her head, he chuckled softly. “You must have magic powers, then. She can be a little shit if she wants to be.”

Erin scoffed. “She’s the most well-behaved child I’ve ever met. You did a good job with her, Marcus.”

“I did my best,” he responded, cheeks warm. “I don’t think I could’ve survived without my mom helping out, though.” She smirked. “Well isn’t that what grandparents are for? Babysitting so that the parents can have some fun?”

The corner of his lip curved up. He finished cutting the onions and washed his hands. Stepping closer, he asked lowly, “What kind of fun do you think they have?”

Chills ran down her spine as he touched her arm, his hands large and warm. Her eyes flickered down to his lips. “I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?”

“Do you want me to show you, honey?”

Mere centimeters separated them when a high pitched voice exclaimed from the sofa, “Daddy!”

Erin pulled away quickly, her cheeks turning pink as Missy ran over to give Marcus a hug. They were almost caught. She was almost caught kissing Missy’s dad. That would’ve been an interesting situation to explain.

But if the nerves were real, why was her heart beating with excitement? Not to mention, why did she feel so warm when he touched her? They weren’t together. No, they were friends. More than friends, but friends.

Dinner was cooked and demolished in no time, the Morenos praising her for something as simple as rice with canned meat.

“This is really good, honey,” he moaned, spooning more into his bowl. Licking his lips, he asked, “Could you teach me how to make this sometime?”

She tried not to focus on the way his lips shined from the oil and his tongue. “I could, but why do that when you and Missy could come visit more often?”

“I can’t ask that of you, honey-” “You’re not asking, I’m offering,” Erin interrupted, smiling triumphantly at Missy’s agreement. “Besides, Missy likes the plants. She says they’re nice.” “Like abuelita’s house!” Marcus chuckled. “Like abuelita’s house.” Meeting Erin’s eyes, he said, “I’d like that. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

---

“Dad, Erin’s really cool.”

He smiled fondly, pulling out of the visitor’s parking spot. “Yeah, she is, isn’t she?”

A pause. Then, “Are you going to ask her out?”

Normally, he would be more caught off guard. But after a long day of work and an amazing dinner with his girls, he couldn’t have been happier. “I already did, kiddo.”

Another pause. He knew Missy was going to grow up to be a smart girl; he just knew it. And with Erin in the picture, he had even less reason to doubt it. “Do you like-like her? My friends say that their parents go on dates sometimes.”

Marcus smiled to himself. “Yeah, yeah I do.”

Being in the kitchen with her again felt like coming home. To her, it might’ve felt like a stranger seeing her for the first time, but everything fell together perfectly.

“Well, I think she like-likes you, too.”

---

Erin sat on the edge of her bed, wrapped in a fluffy towel after her shower. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way Marcus’s voice had dropped when he asked her that question, and the way his touch felt electric against her even through the clothes.

The heat in her belly grew more unbearable the more she thought of him. Seeing him in the kitchen, waltzing around her as if it was second nature, only made her want him more. His fingers were beautiful and thick, gentle yet confident. His smile was sweet yet knowing. He was everything she ever wanted, but different from what she used to dream about.

She lifted her gaze to the full mirror leaning against the wall.

The towel dropped to the carpet once she stood in front of it, leaving her bare to the warm air of her apartment. She bit her lip as her fingers rubbed along the silver shaft of the toy in her hand. It was a new one that came in the mail just a couple weeks ago.

Clicking the button at the base of the vibrator made it come to life, buzzing in her hand.

The first touch against her swollen clit made her gasp and retract her hand. It was stronger than the others she used, more pulsing than constant.

Her fingertips slid between her legs easily as she prepared herself for the toy, her arousal shining on her skin. She closed her eyes and imagined they were Marcus’s fingers, but let out a frustrated sigh. Her fingers were too small, to fill her in the way that she knew Marcus could.

Sitting down on the floor, she rubbed the toy along her folds, whimpering as she clenched around nothing.

A moan escaped her lips as she pushed the vibrator into herself, letting it fill her as much as possible. She immediately clamped down on it, sucking it deeper in until it sat snugly against her walls.

Leaning back on an arm, she used her free hand to tug at a hardened nipple, sending electricity down to her glistening pearl. When she let go, the soft flesh bounced, skin still glowing from her shower. If only it were Marcus’s hands touching her, caressing her skin.

Her orgasm struck her faster than expected, making her arch her back and let out a faint cry. As ecstasy coursed through her veins, her legs started shaking and her cunt began dripping around the toy, as if it were folding back a flood.

Each clench of her walls only brought her more pleasure, the vibrations becoming too much for her to take.

She reached down and pulled out the toy, gasping as a stream of liquid squirted onto the mirror. Her chest heaved as she watched her pussy gape and clench through droplets of her release.

“Fuck,” she whispered to herself, lying back on the floor. The taste of her cum coated her tongue as she licked the toy clean. “Fuck.”

< previous chapter | next chapter >

TAGLISTS: (please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!)

PERMANENT:

@cinewhore @randomness501 @theghostwiththemost-babe @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @miraclemoreno @halfwaythereroyal @fioccodineveautunnale @talesfromtheguild @tortles @ladamari68 @theokatcov @snivellusim @starryluce @inked-poet @browneyes-djarin @shedobewritingalittle @chews-erotically @thefandomimagines @emesispo @bitchin-beskar @phoenixhalliwell @nerdypinupcrystal @dishonouringmycow

HONEYDEW:

@leemorrigan @houseofthirst @meshlamando @engineeredfiction @inkyzinky @thedazeinmylife @theoutsidelandhere @parkjammys

#marcus pike #marcus moreno #Marcus Pike x OC #marcus pike x reader #Marcus Moreno x OC #marcus moreno x reader #we can be heroes #the mentalist x we can be heroes #crossover #my writing #honeydew

49 notes · View notes

frauleinjustice · 4 years

Text

Saimatsu Valentines Day Prompt!

Heeey, my good peoples! Happy Valentines Day!! ♥ Naturally, I wanted to write a cute little oneshot for it~ This time: with my saimatsu babies!! I just thought it would be cute to write something for them for once, hehe...

Summary: For Valentines Day, Kaede wanted to make homemade chocolates for her crush, Shuichi. But since she normally never cooks, she had Maki assist her in making chocolates that actually come out good. And not only will she want to give him romantic chocolates, but: finally confess how she feels, too...

So yeah, I hope you all will enjoy! And as always, thank you so much in advanced if you decide to give it a read. May you all have a nice day, and indulge in some chocolatey treats, regardless if you celebrate today or not! 🍫

"What the hell, Akamatsu." Was the immediate reaction of Maki once she saw the disaster of a kitchen before her very eyes. Splotches of ingredients stained the counter, bowls messily stacked upon each other, and the pot Kaede had used to whisk everything together... was completely burnt at the bottom. And the practice chocolates she had made... looked burnt and greatly misshapen.

"H-Hahah....haaah....." Is the only thing the pianist can utter in response, before she gives several bows. "S-Sorry! I tried to make them on my own, I-I really did! But it uh... diiidn't go exactly well..." She laughs weakly, with even her apron looking like a mess. Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day: the reason Kaede had even attempted to try making chocolates in the first place. While she normally would buy chocolates for her friends... this time, she wanted to actually make them for a very special person. That person being: Saihara Shuichi. To pretty much everyone else in their class-aside from the very boy himself, funnily enough-it was obvious as day Kaede had a big crush on the detective. Not only did she want to give him chocolates that were homemade... but ones that were supposed to be romantic. Even if the thought of giving the guy she likes chocolates was completely nerve-wrecking, not only knowing if he’d like romantic chocolates from her or if he’ll even realize they’re supposed to be romantic: she wanted to believe it would go well, shaking her head of the thoughts of it going badly.

Though... the progress of actually trying to make chocolates, as Maki could see: was not exactly going well at all. Kaede normally isn't allowed to cook, as to avoid the risk of her injuring her fingers, due to being a pianist. It was times like these where she really wished she could cook, since there was no way she was going to give Shuichi these badly made attempts. That's why Maki was here: in a near desperate plea, Kaede called her to ask her to come to her house so she could help her out. Reluctantly, the "child caregiver" gave in and came over after enough begging, since actually she felt a bit bad for Kaede. Sighing, she just shakes her head and goes to tie her hair up in a single high ponytail. "Yeah, I can see that. Fine, I'll help you: but you're still going to be doing most of the work. It's for Saihara, after all."

"Yes!!" She nods, pumping her fists. "All you have to do is watch my progress, make sure I don't screw up! Thanks once again in advance for this!"

A small mumble in response, Maki goes to grab some of the used dishes. "Let's clean up first and then grab a clean apron."

"O-Okay..!" Once the girls take a moment to clean the counter and wash the dishes, Kaede places her stained apron in a laundry basket, before grabbing a clean one, along with giving Maki one. They start setting up the bowls, kitchen tools, and pot they'll need. Kaede also had a silicone heart mold tray she'll use, which makes Maki have to wonder how she still managed to mess up the shapes of them, anyway. As they're measuring out the ingredients, Kaede shows Maki the recipe for homemade chocolates she had been using. "And then for an extra ingredient, I wanted to add espresso powder... so they can be espresso flavored dark chocolates! Since Saihara-kun likes coffee and all...y-you think he'll like it?"

"...Probably." Is her nonchalant answer before she adds: "I mean... I'm sure he will, I guess. Saihara is cheesy enough to like whatever you'd make him, anyway. ‘Because Akamatsu-san made it!’ or whatever he’d say..." Her imitation of Shuichi, and the crack of a smirk on her face, made it obvious she was joking.

"Heheh.... yeah, I could see him saying that, too. Then, yeah: I’m sure he’ll probably like it, then! Okay, so first things first: melting the coconut oil in the pot!" A nod from Maki to indicate her to go ahead, she watches Kaede head over to the pot to start emptying the bowl of coconut oil into the pot... after cracking the fire up way too high.

".........." Immediately, Maki goes over to turn the fire down to a much lower level. "Don't have the fire up so high, you'll burn the coconut oil."

"O-Oh...!" Blinking in surprise, she turns to Maki and gives a flustered nod. “Thank you, sorry!" Sighing, Maki makes sure to keep a close eye on her as she stirs the gradually melting oil. Once it is completely melted, Kaede transfers it to a mixing bowl. It would now be time to add the cocoa powder, honey, vanilla, and sea salt to the mixture, along with the additional flavor of espresso powder.

"Don't whisk it so hard, and not so fast, either. You're trying to make sure all the ingredients are incorporated together, not making splotches fly everywhere."

"R-Right...!" Since that was the exact mistake Kaede made with the practice chocolates. This time, she was whisking at a much better speed and pace, avoiding making a big mess and making her arm necessarily more sore. "This is already coming out a million times better than before. You really know your stuff, Harukawa-san!" She chimes, a smile widening on her face. "Did you already make some, yourself? Fooor..." Her smile turns more mischievous. "Momota-kun?"

"!?" As if hitting the nail on the head, Maki's face quickly turns red as she tries giving an intimidating glare to Kaede. "D...Do you want to die? Why would I want to give chocolates t-to that idiot... now don't say such stupid things..."

"Hahah, sorry, sorry! I was just teasing you!" Though that reaction told Kaede everything. She didn't want to risk teasing Maki too much, though, so she refrains from saying that, and instead gives her a softer smile. "Really though... thank you. I would've been so hopeless without you!"

"Hmph...." Pouting, she begins stroking her ponytail. "...Don't worry about it. Maybe next time you won't be such a disaster at it." Despite her blunt words, there wasn't actual annoyance in her voice. Maki truly didn't mind helping Kaede out. Even if she found the girl a bit much and annoying at times: she wasn't against considering her a friend. That, and she knows Shuichi feels the same way for Kaede. He was one of her closest friends, alongside Kaito, and Kaede to a lesser extent: so she wanted this to go well for them both, hence why she was secretly happy to help.

Chortling in response, Kaede continues mixing until the chocolate mixture is fully incorporated with no lumps left. She carefully pours the mixture in the silicone mold before placing them in the freezer. "Alright, there we go! Can't wait to see how they'll look..!" In the meantime while the chocolates begin to harden, Kaede and Maki take that time to clean up the kitchen. Around half an hour later, Kaede checks on the chocolates. "Ohhh...!" By then, they had hardened. She takes the tray out of the freezer and sets it on the counter. Popping a chocolate heart out, she turns it around to give it a good look. The chocolate wasn't misshapen, lumpy, burnt... much better than how Kaede's first batch came out. "Harukawa-san, look! They came out perfectly! We did it!!" She cheers, putting it back in its slot before cupping Maki's hands.

"Ah, hey-!" Flinching in surprise from the sudden contact, she just rolls her eyes and sighs. "Yeah, yeah... though it was mostly just you, Akamatsu. I just made sure you wouldn't make the kitchen look like a disaster, again."

"Ahaha... well, still! I wouldn't have been able to do this without your help. Thank you so much...! Now I feel even more confident giving these to Saihara-kun tomorrow." Now all she would need to do is pack them in a chocolate box and give them to Shuichi. Nervous excitement was already building up in her for tomorrow. Will it go well? Will he accept her chocolates... and her confession? Kaede was normally not on to think of a worse case scenario, but even she couldn't help the anxious feeling bubbling up in her if everything doesn't go right. "So, ah... wish me luck! H-Heheh..." She nervously rubs the back of her head. "Not to scare myself or anything, but who knows how tomorrow will go, you know...? And if it's alright with you... I'll want to tell you how it goes afterwards, too."

"Well... if that's what you want. I don't mind. Though... don't act like it could possibly go wrong, or whatever. Saihara's never outright said it, but: I bet he's hoping to get chocolates from you. So... yeah: good luck." And for a moment, a hint of a smile appears on Maki's face.

"Harukawa-san...." Smiling warmly, she could feel some of her nervousness seeping away. "That's right... I just have to believe that it will be okay. I'll make sure it does! Thank you so much...! Okay, then I'll be sure to tell you how it goes..!"

With that, Valentines Day arrives the next day. Kaede had told Shuichi to meet her in a quiet area of campus after school this morning, without telling him the exact reason why. While Shuichi was curious, he thankfully didn't persist, much to Kaede's relief. Though her being unusually more nervous around him during class probably gave an obvious hint as to what the reason may be: Shuichi still didn't want to assume anything... even if he's hoping it's for the exact reason Kaede wants to see him.

Once classes were over for the day, Kaede immediately headed to their meeting spot: an area on campus that was a bit off the path, but was quiet with no one really around. She wanted to give him chocolates in a quiet area where no one could be nosy. "Okay... looks like I made it first. Hggh..." Cupping her arm, she can feel the nervousness kicking right back up as she stares down at the ground. ("Come on, Kaede, don't get nervous already.. he hasn't even shown up yet!")

"...san.."

("Like Harukawa-san said: don't like it could possibly go wrong. A-And if even she thinks Saihara-kun may like me back...!")

"...san? Akamatsu-sa...."

She shakes her head, completely unaware of the soft voice from behind calling out to her. ("So come on, be optimistic! It will go well! Just believe in yourself!! When he arrives, I'll... I'll give him the chocolates, and tell him how I fe-")

"Akamatsu-san!"

Pouting, she swiftly turned around and was about to yell at the person who dares interrupt her- "Geez, what is it, can't you see I'm busy he-?!" Before finally noticing who it was, gasping. "Ah! S-Saihara-kun!!" At his understandably confused reaction, she gives a few frantic bows. "S-Sorry, I didn't notice you there!"

Blinking, he gives a reassuring shake of his head and waves his hand in the air. "A-Ah, it's, um... it's alright. Hi... I'm sorry for taking a moment, I hope I didn't keep you waiting."

"No, no, you're fine! I literally just got here myself, so you're not late. But yeah, hey! Thanks for being willing to do this! I hope it wasn't too sudden a request..."

"Ah, not at all! I don't mind. It seemed like you wanted to tell me something important, so..."

"Y...Yeah..." Before she begins, Kaede takes a quick moment to look around. It was still just them around here, just as she hoped. A soft exhale, she looks back up at the boy. "...Okay, so! You've probably... already guessed why I called you out here, but... still. There's something I... wanted to give you, Saihara-kun. It's in my bag: one moment..." Trying to ignore the increasingly rapid pounding in her heart, Kaede reaches into her backpack to take the box of chocolates out.

"!" Shuichi's eyes widen when he sees it. "Oh! That's...!" He is presented with a heart-shaped chocolate box, with a white bow wrapped around it.

She bows slightly as she holds the chocolates out to him. "F...For you, Saihara-kun: Happy Valentines Day...! I-I... made them, myself!"

"Ahh? You... made these? For me..?" A soft, surprised gasp leaves his lips as he stares down at the box of chocolates. Shuichi knew the pianist was normally not allowed to cook. So for her to not only give him chocolates, but ones that she made, herself... "......." A blush starts to creep onto his face. So his prediction was right, after all... he was surprised, but so happy and relieved. "Akamatsu-san... thank you..." Finally, he gently takes the box of chocolates out of her hands. A shy, yet bright smile appears on his lips. "I'm flattered you would want to give me homemade chocolates..! If it's okay, I would love to try them right now."

"Of course…!" Standing back up straight, she smiles bashfully at him, a soft blush on her face. "And yeah, that's totally fine! I hope you'll love them, Saihara-kun...!"

"I'm sure I will, since Akamatsu-san made them, after all! H-Hehe..."

"Hehe...!" She couldn't help but giggle with him, recalling how Maki said that he would say something just like that. Though it really did make her happy: to hear that Shuichi was confident he was going to like her chocolates. He beckons her to walk over to the nearby tree with them to sit down. Shuichi places the box on his lap before opening it up, an amazed hum leaves his lips when seeing how nice the heart-shaped chocolates look.

"Ohh… These look very nicely made. Alright, let's try one..." Picking one of the pieces up, Shuichi pops it into his mouth. "Mm..." He takes a moment to savor the flavor, a delighted hum emitting from him. Kaede watches him in anticipation, eagerly yet anxiously awaiting his response. Once he's finished the piece, he looks at Kaede with a smile and an approving nod. "Akamatsu-san, these are so good...! Just as I thought, I love these.”

"!!!" Seeing he loved it, her eyes light up and a smile widens on her face as she clasps her hands together. "Yay!! I'm so glad to hear that, Saihara-kun! They're espresso flavored dark chocolates.” She eagerly informs. “I thought, since you like coffee, why not add that additional flavor to them? And Harukawa-san helped me with this, too, since I was a complete disaster trying to make them myself." She chuckles sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head. "So it's honestly thanks to her that these turned out much better than I ever could've made them on my own..."

"Ohh? Espresso flavored, I see... so that's why there was a coffee taste to them. I'm so honored you took that into consideration, Akamatsu-san... they taste absolutely amazing." He smiles softly, giving an intrigued hum. "Ohh, Harukawa-san did, huh? Haha, that was sweet of her to do. But still, it was mostly your hard work that made the chocolates come out as tasty as they did, yes? So I think you should give yourself some more credit... and say, rather: with her help, they came out even better than they already would have, even if you did make them on your own."

"S...Saihara-kun...." A light blush appears on her cheeks. It was always things like that: the sincere, kind things Shuichi said... that made her fall for the boy in the first place. "Th-Thank you for having so much faith in me like that... makes me very happy to hear."

“Of course..." Shuichi picks up another piece and eats it, savoring it just as much as the first piece. Kaede made these for him.... even if she normally doesn't cook, she went out of her way to make homemade chocolates or him. The more he's reminded of that, the more his cheeks heat up and his heart thumps softly in his chest. And for a moment... "......." He wondered if he should ask this, but decided to go for it, a nervous exhale leaving him before he spoke up.

"S-Say, um..... Akamatsu-san? I hope this is not an, um... strange question to ask, but: are these....ah....friendship chocolates?"

"!" Kaede's eyes widened in surprise at his question. "Ah...!" Even though she knew it was coming, she didn't expect him to ask so directly like that. "N-No, it's not strange! I'm just surprised you just came out with it, haha. But, um..." Now it was the moment of truth. The nervousness from before was quickly kicking back into high gear. She was going to say it... she was finally going to say how she feels, once she confirms that these chocolates were completely intended to be romantic. Taking a few deep breaths to keep herself calm... she looks back at him and shakes her head. "No: they aren't friendship chocolates. I... when I made these for you, the intention was... romantic. Th-They are... romantic chocolates."

"....!" Shuichi freezes at her clarification. "A...Ah...." He let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding in. He was nervously anticipating what kind of answer she would give. That part of him hoping so badly that his assumption was wrong. "R...Romantic chocolates?"

"Yes.... so that's why I wanted to do my best to make sure these chocolates came out great. Since I wanted to make... um.... the guy th-that I... that I like, happy." She chuckles shyly, feeling her cheeks heat up again. "I... really like you, Saihara-kun. U-Um: like, like! Since I have a r-really big crush on you and all, a-and!! Wanted to finally tell you that through these homemade chocolates...!" And then once she finally got that out, she hangs her head low, wanting to hide the only worsening blush on her cheeks. The embarrassment she was feeling over stammering her confession out quicker than she had hoped aside... a big wave of relief washed over her after finally telling the detective how she feels. And now it was time for the most nerve-wrecking part of all: awaiting his response.

"........." Shuichi just stares at her, too shocked to form an immediate response. His eyes are widened and a deep blush crosses his face. "Ah. A-Ah..." She likes him.... Kaede, the girl he truthfully has been crushing on badly in turn, likes him: like, likes him, as she stated. He could feel his heart bouncing around like crazy in his chest, feeling so overwhelmingly happy right now. He heard exactly what he was hoping so badly to hear: just as much as he was hoping these were not platonic chocolates. "You like...me...? H-Had a crush on...me? Oh..." He stares down at the ground, one hand to his chest as he gives a few deep breaths. Kaede was brave enough to confess her feelings... so he wanted to give her a proper response back. "....Akamatsu-san."

She gave two nods in confirmation at his questions. And when he calls her name like that, knowing he wants her to look up at him. "......." Nervous as she is to, she brings herself to slowly lift her head back up. "S...Saihara-kun."

"S-Sorry, I was honestly at a loss of words for a moment. A-Ahaha..." He chuckles softly, bashfully scratching his cheek. "I never thought that... you'd feel that way about me. And in all honesty, when I asked you if these were platonic chocolates... I was really hoping you would say no. I-I hope that's not selfish of me. Especially since it…. made me so happy that wasn't the case. Because... if there was anyone I was hoping to get romantic chocolates from... it was from you."

"!" Kaede perks up at that. "R...Really? You were... hoping they wouldn't be platonic ones? And that... you were hoping they would be from me?"

"Yes..." For a moment, he hesitates when suddenly moving his arm, wondering if he should do it… before he dares to bring his hand towards Kaede’s to rest it gently on top of hers. It makes a soft gasp leave her, Shuichi ready to move his hand away if it was being too forward. But seeing she doesn't move her hand away, nor looks uncomfortable... he keeps it there before continuing. "I wouldn't have cared to get them from anyone else but you. Since.. since I..." Even if he knows she feels the same, he still feels his face heat up. Then with a soft exhale, he tells her: "...I feel the same, Akamatsu-san. I-I... like you, too. And for a long while, I have. So... I'm so happy that you return my feelings." He goes to intertwine their fingers just a bit... before giving her the warmest smile she's ever seen on his face.

"Saihara-kun...!" She feels her face turn redder when he intertwines their fingers together. And to hear it back: that Shuichi returns her feelings as well. "I...you...!" Relief washed over Kaede... before an overwhelming amount of happiness started bubbling in her. And before she knew it, Kaede lunged forward to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

"W-Woah...!" Shuichi yelps out in surprise from the sudden hug, his other having quickly secured a grip on the box of chocolates so that they wouldn't fall off his lap. Once he made sure they were secure on his lap, he gave a soft chuckle and shyly wrapped his arms around her to return the hug, cheeks turning a darker shade of red. "Ahaha.... Akamatsu-san..."

"H-Hehehe... sorry, I'm just... so happy! That the guy I like... likes me back!! I was so nervous... but now I'm so relieved!" She laughs, burying her face in his shoulder for a moment to stifle her giggles. The biggest, brightest smile was on her face. He returned her feelings.... he likes her back... The more she processed this, the happier she felt. She couldn't have felt any happier that she took that risk to make these chocolates for him and confess.

Shuichi gives her a soft squeeze in the hold, closing his eyes and just sighs so happily. She felt so nice to hug... he almost didn't want to let go of her. "I'm so happy, too... probably the happiest I've ever been."

"Me too...!" And for a moment they continue hugging like that, Kaede not wanting to leave his warm embrace anytime soon either... but eventually, they break away, Kaede going to sit back down in her spot. "S-So um! I guess that means we're... dating now, huh?"

"Dating..." Even just muttering it makes him flustered. "Hehe... y-yes, I suppose that does mean that, huh? Homemade chocolates from my...g-girlfriend. Thank you so much again..." For a second, he smiles at her... before deciding to lean in and place the softest kiss to her cheek. "I-I ah: hope that was okay to do..."

"!" Kaede uttered a surprised noise at the peck, making her cheeks heat up again before she giggles and nods her head. "O-Of course! You're my...b-boyfriend, after all! H-Hehe..." Humming in content, Kaede gently leans against Shuichi. She feels a gentle breeze brush through them, closing her eyes for a moment to enjoy it. She felt so content, wanting time to just stop for a moment. The guy she likes, she loves: was now hers... and she is his. "Sh...Shuichi-kun. Can I call you that? Um, I've never really been in a relationship before, so sorry if I'm a bit awkward at this at first, but: I promise... I'll be the best girlfriend I can be for you. One that will make you happy... and always make you feel loved."

"Ah..." His heart soars when she calls him by his first name. And hearing just the amount of sincerity in her tone couldn't help but make him chuckle, finding it so cute: finding her so cute... "You're so sweet.... though you've always been such a caring and loving person who always makes me happy whenever I spend time with you. And... I promise to do the same. R-Relationships are just as new for me, too, but... that just means we’ll be able to experience what one is like, together. I will make sure to be nothing but a great boyfriend to you, too. You deserve to feel just as happy and loved, Akamatsu-san. A-Ah, well.. if you're going to call me 'Shuichi-kun'....th-then: K...Kaede-san..." Even just uttering her first name makes his cheeks red, but felt so nice.

"Mmhm... please call me Kaede..." She hums, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder as she goes to wrap both her arms around his arm. "...Shuichi-kun...." She opens her eyes back up halfway. Then turning her head to look up at him, she gives him a look just spilling with warmth and love. "...I love you..."

"Kaede-san..." A quiet sigh of awe leaves him when seeing the look she gives. A look that would be reserved just for him. He couldn't feel any luckier... and in turn, he gave her a look and smile just as warm and loving, one hand going to gently cup her cheek. She loves him... it felt so nice to hear. "...I love you, too. I always will."

"Hehe... me too...." She nuzzles her cheek against his hand, sighing so happily. "....Shuichi-kun: ....let's kiss...." Kaede slowly leans her head closer to his. "....If that's okay? I really want to..."

"....Of course." He begins to slowly lean in as well, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. "...I'd love that more than anything."

"I'm glad... Then.... And as their eyes slowly come to a close, shifting slightly so that Shuichi wraps his free arm around Kaede's waist, and Kaede now wraps both her arms around his neck once more... they close the distance in a soft kiss. A soft hum emits from them, loving how nice the other's lips felt. She could taste a hint of the chocolates on his lips as well, which made her muffle a small giggle. Kaede's heart was pounding so hard in her chest, giving his lips several smacks during the kiss. It makes a delighted sigh vibrate through Shuichi, one of his hands proceeding to rub small circles in her back. Her first kiss with her new boyfriend... she wanted to indulge as long as she could before they would have to break away.

And even once they do, their kiss slowly lingers... before Shuichi dares to take the bold initiative this time and draws her right back into a kiss. She happily welcomes it, feeling her heart bounce even more she feels him press his lips firmer against hers, with Kaede doing the same. One of her hands gets tangled in his hair, slowly combing through the smooth black locks. This kiss is longer, deeper... and full of much more love packed into it. When they break away, they softly pant as they stare lovestruck at each other, both of their faces flushed red. "Th-That... felt nice..."

"Yeah... it really did...." She continues stroking his hair, Shuichi nuzzling his head against her hand as he utters a content hum. "Today... couldn't have gone any better. Not only did you enjoy your chocolates, but now you're my boyfriend, too! Hehehe I can't wait to tell Harukawa-san the great news!"

"Hahaha.... and I guess I'll tell Momota-kun as well. I did wonder why he told me 'Good luck' before I left to come meet you here..." He chuckles. "But yes, I truly did, Kaede-san. Ah!" Picking a piece up, he offers her one. "I know you made these for me, but I would love to enjoy them together with you."

She chuckles at that, not surprised Kaito knew exactly why he had been called to come here by her. Then when he offers her one of the pieces, she blinks in surprise. "Oh! Well if you'd like to: sure, thanks!" She takes the piece, and plops half of it into her mouth. And just to tease him... with the other half sticking out of her mouth, she bops her head forward, gesturing him to come closer while muttering: "Mm, mm!"

"Wha-?!" Face blowing up in red, Shuichi starts flailing his hands. "W-W-Wait a minute, th-that's-!! I-I mean I ah, I'm not saying 'no', b-but-"

"Hehehemmph!" The chocolate stifling her laugh, she finishes it completely before she starts laughing even more. "I-I was just teasing you, Shuichi-kun, hahaha! But were you really going to be up for it? Woah... Shuichi-kun is bolder than I thought!"

"Ah... o-ohh, geez! Kaede-san!!" He huffs, blushing even more in embarrassment as he gives her arm the lightest bap... before he starts breaking into laughter, too. "V...Very funny! Hahah...!"

"Heheh...!" She gives him a playful nudge to his arm, before they continue to enjoy more chocolates together. She still couldn't believe how well today went. With Maki's help, the chocolates came out great, Shuichi loved them... and realizing he loved her too when she confessed. Now she felt silly for having doubts, and couldn't feel anymore grateful that she was just worrying over nothing in the end. She already couldn't wait to get back home and play a song that expresses the amount of happiness and love she feels for the boy next to her. And maybe, she thinks to herself: she'll play it for him one day, too.

#Kaede Akamatsu #Shuichi Saihara #saimatsu #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #Kay's writings #Maki Harukawa #since Maki makes a quick cameo it was my first time ever writing dialogue for her so #i hope I got her down right tee hee...

30 notes · View notes

segafan37 · 3 years

Text

Shadamy Snippets: Pain, Pain, Go Away

[Amy's POV]

Wet. Cold. I'm wet and cold.

My teeth chattered, and my body shook from the freezing temperatures that seemed to only surround me. Despite my body's protests, I quickened my pace. The ominous sound of heel meeting tile echoed behind me, but I shook the fear away and kept moving.

I can't look back. I can't face it now. My only mission was to get to warmth... And far. Away. From her.

I slammed the door unintentionally, but I didn't care much. Leaning my back against the door, I sighed a breath of relief.

"What a day." I moaned.

I dully looked about my apartment, then eyed my reflection being displayed from the mirror at the end of the hall. My hair, clothes, face, and body were drenched. My schoolbag, which I just registered was being smothered under my grip, was just as wet. I relaxed my hand and took a peek inside it. Thankfully, its contents were dry.

I sighed, with another moan.

"I am never going to listen to the morning forecast, again!"

I slouched to the floor as the events leading up to my unfortunate state kept playing over and over in my mind.

~ FLASHBACK ~

After chatting it up with Shadow, I had decided to take the bus home. A light rain had begun to fall when I had entered the bus. I didn't think much of it though. I just took a seat next to a window and watched the rain descend.

As I sat further into my seat, a foul smell reached my nose. My face turned up, and I quickly covered it, not at all being discreet. I tried to search for the source of the stench and soon realized it was coming from the purple fabric that covered my chair!

I turned in my seat to study the fabric closer and saw a large outline of an old stain. I cringed. I had a good sniffer and accidentally got a whiff of it too.

It smelled like a mixture of rotten tuna fish and BO. EW!! I was horrified. More trauma occurred when I realized the ends of my hair had just rested on that spot.

Quickly, I collected my belongings and went to take a seat on the other side of the bus. I wrapped my hair up into a tight bun and gazed at my old seat. I shuddered in disgust.

I can't wait to get my own vehicle!

The rain turned into a heavy downpour, as I settled into my new quarters. My stop was three blocks away from my apartment. I had no umbrella or jacket, and I knew if I didn't hustle, I would be soaked to the bone. Once the bus came to my stop, I moved as fast as my legs would allow, but it wasn't enough to prevent my current state.

Since our elevator stopped working, I had to use the stairwell and walk up the many flights to my apartment floor. I shivered and grumbled all the way there, only stopping to give a gloomy "Hey" or an occasional "Hi" to passersbys.

My attitude quickly changed when I felt her presence. I kept myself at a steady pace, not daring to look down at the person a few flights behind me.

I could feel her eyes piercing into me and sending all kinds of negative emotions. I was relieved when I reached my floor and my apartment, which laid at the end of the hall. When I was just entering my home, I could hear the stairwell door opening.

~ END OF FLASHBACK ~

"Well, at least she can't hurt me in here." I resolved.

Wow. That was pathetic, but I didn't care. It was the only thing that was keeping me happy.

I clenched my teeth, trying to control my chattering. I still hadn't gotten warm yet. I wondered what would be the fastest way for me to get warm. I hugged myself and looked about my home as if the answer was hidden amongst my belongings.

Maybe I should make some tea and stand by the fireplace? On second thought, a mocha sounds better! But hot chocolate is faster... Or perhaps I should take a shower?

A faint sound of a door slamming a few apartments down came to my ears. From where I crouched, I could hear yelling. It was hard to make out, but I could just interpret some of their conversation.

"That's it! I want that woman out of this apartment!"

"Martha, what's wrong!?"

"I've had it with her, John! I'm calling Jasmine. She needs to go!"

I leaned the back of my head against my door and groaned, gazing up at the ceiling.

Seriously! Now, she's trying to get her cousin to throw me out!? How could she do this to me! Wasn't her tongue lashing enough!?

I closed my eyes, as the balls of my fists tightened. I wanted a memory wipe; to forget everything that had happened, but I couldn't stop thinking about that horrible woman!

I sighed. How could a day so good, turn so wrong!?

An unpleasant smell reached my nose, and I realized that it was coming from me.

Yeah, I'll go for the shower.

With a huff, I slipped off my boots and socks, leaving them at the entrance with my schoolbag, and headed towards my bedroom.

Water dripped off my face and clothes, as I stumbled through my bedroom door. My once tight bun was now lop-sided and unraveling, and a mixture of rain, sweat, and stinky feet fumed from my body. I was a complete mess! I moaned again.

My conscious noted that I was doing a lot of that lately, to which I replied with an eye roll and another moan.

Do you really think that doing that will help you? My conscious questioned. If anything, you should go talk to her and get some closure instead of moaning and -

"Fine! Alright, already!" I conceded, silencing my little voice, and walked away into my bathroom. "I'll talk with her. But later."

I turned on the shower, and heated vapors soon filled the room. Steam engulfed me, as warm droplets washed away my pain. I closed my eyes and inhaled the warm steam, as my mind slowly brought me back.

I could see myself standing on the stage greeted by a roaring applause. My friends' whoops and cheers above them all! The initial shock I had, when my friends told me of the live-stream video they did, and the crazy comments towards Sonic. There was also my chance encounter with Shadow and the lovely chat we had! He actually gave me a lot to think about...

I even had a peaceful moment on the bus listening to the rain, before I discovered the stench. A chuckle escaped my lips. That was kind of funny now that I think about it.

I opened my eyes, still daydreaming. The shower water reminded me of the raindrops that trailed down my passenger window. I could just hear them, beating against the roof of the bus.

I didn't mind the rain. Some people thought of it as a bad thing or a nuisance, but I liked it... if I didn't get caught in it.

These were good memories. The right ones to think about. Everything was perfect! Then the heavy downpour came and her along with it.

I thought of how she approached me. Her face showed nothing but self-righteousness and reproach, and her eyes were full of hatred towards me. But for what! I never did anything to her, except exist! She thinks I'm the villain in this story, but I'm not!

Our conversation was short, but her words pierced like a knife!

To think my husband and I thought you were a decent young lady! We trusted you, brought you into our home, fed you! Thinking that we were being hospitable to a sweet young lady. All the while, we were being tricked by your pretty little face!.. and sadly, your little plan worked. But we see you for who you are now... a cunning, deceitful, little temptress!

Excerpt from Shadamy fanfic “12 Years Later: A New Dawn”. YOu can read the rest of this chapter and more on Wattpad, DeviantArt, Quotev, or Webnovel.

#Shadamy #shadamy fanfic #shadamy fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #my fanfiction #Amy Rose #shadow the hedgehog #sonic couple #sonic the hedgehog #deviantart #webnovel #story snippet #Wattpad #quotev

14 notes · View notes

whatdyk · 4 years

Text

Saviour (Pero Tovar x Fem!Reader) | Modern AU.

Part Two.

Warnings: Swearing, flash-backs.

Word-count: 1.9k

Chapter 2:

To your delight, the next week passes without fault. Though, it could be argued that your recent spell of good luck was a direct result of you not leaving your home.

At all.

For a week.

Since the incident, you had called your boss to inform her that you'd be working from home for a while, and thankfully, after explaining your circumstances, she couldn't have been more understanding. It wasn't that you were afraid of going back outside, it was just that you needed some time to regain your confidence. In the aftermath, you found that you'd had been sleeping poorly and were often forgetting to take care of yourself. However, as the days passed by, you could feel your old self begin to return.

Slowly, you resume your old routine of waking up early and getting in a good breakfast; taking pleasure in cooking once more. You also find that you can now relax enough to read and draw, and you soon realize that you're more than eager to get back outside and enjoy the changing seasons. To your relief, the city is on the precipice of Autumn and you're desperate to see the changing colours for yourself.

So here you are, standing in front of your apartment door, willing it to open. You may have only been away for a short period of time, but you find that you've actually missed the city. The cold weather, the sounds of traffic and your favorite cafe. However, as you ready yourself to leave, you hadn't expected this level of anxiety to come biting at your heels.

Taking a deep breath, your heart thumps against your chest and your knees feel weak as you step forward to unlock the door. Unlatching the chain and screwing your eyes shut, you twist the knob with an almost white-knuckle grip.

"Señorita?"

You jump back slightly as the first thing you're met with is big, brown eyes. So familiar and yet so foreign at the same time. The man that you have come to recognise is stood just a foot away from your door as it opens, his fist raised as if he was about to knock. As you look at him, your eyes must have been wide with shock as he begins to apologize. You watch on as his mouth opens and closes, but you struggle to take in any of the words as the room begins to spin around you.

All you can remember is that night. You can feel the phantom hands on your body, the cold against your skin as your clothes are torn from you-

"Are you alright?" He calls out to you again, "you look-"

You can't help it as a small whimper escapes your lips, tears beginning to line your eyes. Your grip loosens on your door and you take a step back, trying to shake your head of the haunting memories. What had you been thinking? You aren't ready for this.

"I'm- I'm sorry" you eventually rasp out, your throat suddenly dry, "I just, - I wasn't expecting anyone"

He remains quiet as he observes you, obviously unsure as to what to do in this situation. Though after a moment, you are able to look at him again despite the burning feeling of your embarrassment.

You clear your throat as you begin to speak, "Is there something I can help you with?" You ask hesitantly, unsure as to how you should continue. After a brief pause, he looks down towards his hands. You notice that he's holding a bag, and he's raising his arms to hold it out to you.

"I wanted to return this." He states rather plainly. It takes a few moments for you to recognise it, but he's holding out the bag that had been lost on the night of your attack. The black leather is sodden from spending a few nights in the rain and the handles have been snapped, but it's yours nonetheless.

"How did-" you begin, your mind lost in the memories, "where did you...find it?" you eventually question, taking the item from his hands.

As you reach out, you find that your fingers meet his; the feeling of his skin against yours bringing a warmth that causes your eyes to instantly snap up. For the first time, you can see his features in the broad light of day, no shadows or dim lighting disguising his face. He has dark, curled hair peeking around his ears and covering his forehead in organized chaos. In the light of your apartment, you can just about make out the fine grey hairs that are beginning to mix in with his chocolate-colored locks. Though, his eyes are exactly as you remember them, dark and deep; soulful as if they've seen far too much.

"I went back" he suddenly interrupts your musings, "I found it the night that it happened- I just, wanted to give you some time before I returned it." As he speaks to you, you notice that he isn't meeting your gaze and that his brows are furrowed in a deep frown.

"Thank you" You mumble as you place the bag down next to your feet, "For everything, you really didn't have to do this."

"It's the least I could do" He replies almost too quickly, "if there's anything else I can do, just-" His hands move to his back pocket, fishing around until he reveals a small white card, "call me"

You take the paper from his hands and turn it over, reading the name and number that has been printed accross it - Pero Tovar.

"Pero?" You question with a small smile ghosting your lips, "I can't believe I never asked for your name before now. Spanish, yes?"

At that, the frown set across his features softens slightly, "Sí" he hums back, "Although with what happened- I couldn't blame you for not asking." At the mention of it, you cant help it as your smile begins to fade. Though thankfully, Pero is quick to change the subject.

"However, I could not say a word to you since I still don't know your name?" He questions with a hint of apprehension, a slight blush beginning to caress his cheeks.

You smirk as you tell him and enjoy how he repeats it back to you. His soothing accent and deep tone causing the syllables to effortlessly roll of his tongue, seemingly experimenting with how your name feels coming from his mouth. Surely your own blush is rising as you listen in, feeling the heat meet the tip of your ears.

"So," he clears his throat, catching your gaze, "I should get-"

"Would you like to grab a coffee with me?" You interrupt before he can even finish his sentence.

As you look at him, your heart is now thumping against your chest for an entirely new reason. You weren't quite sure where the invitation came from, but all you do know is that you aren't ready to say goodbye to him again just yet. Though, as the seconds pass by and you watch him hesitate, you curse your impulsive nature.

"It's just that.." you start to ramble on, "I want to repay you- I know it's not much,"

"I can't" he eventually responds, "I have work, and-"

Shit.

"It's alright," You interrupt as he continues, "You don't need to explain yourself to me. Thank you for coming back and returning my bag though." You watch on as his gaze lowers to the ruined item at your feet, lines appearing at his brow as his frown returns. You shouldn't feel this disappointed that he turned you down, should you?

An awkward silence passes between the two of you before he finally speaks again, "Another time, perhaps?" He suggests almost hopefully.

You smile at that, but it doesnt quite reach your eyes. You offer a small nod as he begins to take a step back.

"Perhaps" You almost whisper back.

As the word leaves your mouth, you feel a sharp pang in your gut as he turns away once more, reminiscing about the first night that he had left you at your door. Taking a deep breath, you eventually close out the outside world and return to the comfort of your home. You were no longer in the mood to venture into the city.

--------

The night played out in front of you as all the others had done so already. You're in your baggiest top and cosiet socks by the time the sun begins to set, and you're sat by the open window of your living room. The flowers that sit in the vase here are almost dead now, but you can't bring yourself to throw them away just yet. They're a mixture of your favourites, including orange roses, white hydrangeas and eucalytpus populus. Their fading colours mirror that of the dying leaves outside, their smell reminiscent of the impending winter. You should have replaced them today. Yet, it seems as if your courage had left in the form of tall man, grumpy; with deep brown eyes.

Reluctantly, you had found that your mind had been with him since he left. Your memory seemingly retracing the finer details of face, ingraining them into your mind as if you would forget. You smile to yourself as you re-call the half-hearted scowl that so often graces his features. Though, if you continue on this way, you're almost certain that you'll even begin to dream about him. Unfortunately for you, it was a complete mystery as to why he was plaguing your mind so much. But after today, you doubted that you'd get the opportunity to find out.

After another long moment, you turn from your seated position and reach out for your phone. You hadn't recieved any emails or calls from work today, but you almost gasp out loud as you realise the time. You had been left to your thoughts for far too long, and if you wanted to try adventuring again tomorrow, you'd need some rest.

You found that your night-time routine never deviated too much. As you had been called so often in your life, you found that you were most certainly a creature of habit. It not that you don't like change, or are afraid of it, it's more so that you appreciate the simplicity behind order. An order that you had been previously denied. It's not a subject that you enjoy to dwell on, but thoughts of your past often bubble up during this time of the day. You do your best to push them back down again.

And so, you wash your face and clean your teeth, brushing through the length of your hair soon after. The plush softness of your bedsheet welcome you like an old friend at the end of the day, and you relax into them with a warm smile on your face. For some odd reason, you already know that you'll feel well rested tomorrow, with no need to worry about nightmares or haunting memories. For the first time in days, you're able to drift off into a peaceful sleep, because you already know who will be awaiting you when you get there.

Tag List:

@computeringturtle @lackofhonor

#pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x y/n #Pedro pascal character fan fiction #reader insert #alternate universe #pedro pascal

50 notes · View notes

mihidecet · 4 years

Text

I see You

I’m back on my bs yall. This is meant to be a companion piece to this so if you’re in the mood for some pure and extremely shameless comfort maybe check it out?

I somehow ended up writing 3.8K of Manburg family dynamics, set in an alternate universe where none of the extremely messed us stuff of the canon happened. ((we could have had it all))

Once again do not take this as ship content!! Let’s normalize platonic cuddling and being close with your friends without it being sexual!! Pretty pretty please!!

Contrary to popular belief, Schlatt is not that dense when it comes to feelings.

His ignorance of other people's emotions is a willing act of defiance. Defiance towards whom, you may find yourself asking?

… Anyway.

Schlatt does notice things. Stuff happening around him. And he does remember them.

He knows Tubbo takes his morning tea with two spoonfuls of honey, and a slice of bread with any marmalade on it except raspberry, which as it turns out he doesn't like. Schlatt stops providing raspberry marmalade, but it never really gets questioned.

He knows Fundy will get scraped up while exploring during the day, and will always forget to bandage himself up properly, so he makes sure to mention it in passing to whoever is near him at the end of the day - just to know that people will check up on the kid. He doesn't need to go himself, Fundy would never allow him to take care of him directly, and he's not going to subject either of them to that situation.

Most of all, he notices Quackity - with him being the Vice President, they're around each other a lot.

Quackity is a bright light in the cabinet.

While Tubbo is a warm late afternoon glow and Fundy is burning fire, Quackity is sunshine by the seaside on a midday spring day.

Quackity likes coffee, but only if it's been drowned with sugar. He likes singing, humming tunes to himself as he works or while he cooks - he does it for everyone, whenever he has the time to, and he is one of the best cooks there are. He likes to debate, bringing up topics to talk about during slow times, engaging Tubbo into verbal spars. He makes sure that Fundy has eaten at least three times per day, and that he's gone to sleep at a decent time.

He smiles to himself whenever he finishes a document. Ruffles Tubbo's hair. Touches Fundy's shoulder to stop him to ask him how he's doing. Taps Schlatt's shoulder to catch his attention.

Quackity is a very tactile person.

Schlatt remembers him hugging people, throwing arms around shoulders, laughing out loud with tears at the corners of his eyes.

So it's no wonder that a couple of months into their presidency, with work and paperwork occupying most of their days, Quackity is both overly stressed and constantly fidgeting.

It comes to a point when Schlatt catches him visibly reaching out to people and then backing away, awkward and embarrassed, mumbling excuses before making a joke of being lost in his mind due to work.

That cannot continue. It simply cannot.

Schlatt finishes his paperwork an hour early that night, then he takes a swig from one of his already opened bottles for good luck and gets to work.

The trip from his study to Quackity's is almost too long - it gives him almost enough time to change his mind, almost enough time to chicken out and just plan something else, maybe unleash Tubbo on him. But before he can formulate the idea in his mind, he's standing in front of the oak door and his hand is already raised to knock.

Too late to back down. A part of him reasons, despite the fact that it isn't.

"Come in." Quackity's voice answers after he raps his knuckles against the wood.

The room inside is dimly lit: the only source of light is a small table lamp that shines a beacon on Quackity’s documents as his pen flies on the paper sheet, the man’s slightly hunched back straightening when he notices him entering, a small tired smile appearing on his face.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, his head tilting lightly to the side - then bending further, one hand coming up to rub at his neck with a slightly pained expression. Schlatt advances, crossing his arms over his chest and shrugging while Quackity seemingly discovers more and more sore spots along his back.

"I finished my paperwork, I figured I'd stop by."

"Oh, cool. -” he replies with one final satisfied grunt “- I'm almost done with this."

Schlatt nods absentmindedly, gesturing vaguely with a hand towards a nearby armchair: "You mind?" There’s a moment of confused silence as Quackity looks at him as if he’s grown a second set of horns, a mixture of surprise, amusement and incredulity overcoming his features, then he shakes his head and chuckles to himself. To be fair, any other night he’d have flung himself on his bed the instant his paperwork had been done. Still, Quackity recovers quickly, nodding towards him and swiftly resuming his work.

It’s hard not to fall asleep with the sound of his friend’s pen running over paper calming his nerves, the dimness surrounding them and the comfiness of the armchair under him. He remembers when Quackity had brought it in, slightly old looking and covered in a transparent sheet of plastic: he’d called it a lifetime occasion, found in a yard sale, and Schlatt had doubted its usefulness - after all, they had a couch in the livingroom and multiple chairs for each of their desks.

And yet, there hasn’t yet been a day when the armchair wasn’t occupied by someone. When the days are cold, Tubbo can often be found curled up in it with a mug of hot chocolate and a blanket safely tucked around his shoulders - by whom should be quite obvious. And sometimes, when the nights are too long and sleep avoids Fundy, he retreats there, silently, and turns the armchair so that he can keep a watchful eye over Quackity as he works - that is, until sleep finds him, comforted by the knowledge that they’re all safe and alive.

There’s a small bookshelf next to the armchair, filled with tomes both bought, found and written - some in English, most in Spanish. Quackity is nothing but fond and proud of his collection, and while Schlatt’s not going to tell anyone, he has read plenty of poems from the books that looked the most used. He’s aware that his Spanish isn’t the best, but it helps with keeping his knowledge fresh.

His eyes catch on a thin book that he doesn’t remember seeing before - its title along the spine is a mesh of letters, with way too many consonants, and definitely in a language he doesn’t know. Picking it up, he figures it will help with his task of not falling asleep as he waits, but alas, as on the spine, the whole book is filled with too many long words - is that a whole line of just one? Who made this up?

He starts flipping back to the incipit, in hope of at least finding the author’s name. When he reaches it, though, what catches his attention first isn’t the name itself - Goethe, ah, that’s it, German - but a hand-penned inscription just below.

“Hey Da Dumbass, I heard you like poetry in foreign languages. Try and read this. Fundy.”

Thankfully, the sound of a satisfied grunt reaches his ears and unknots the tightness in his throat and distracts him from the warmth spreading in his chest.

Behind him, Quackity - he calls him dad - stretches his arms behind his back and sighs.

"Alright, this one's done! -” he starts, smiling proudly to himself before shooting a somewhat guilty look towards the rest of the documents piled up on his desk “- You know, you don't have to wait for me, I figured since it's not so late I could get a bit of stuff done ahead of time-" Schlatt levels him with an unimpressed stare, then claps the book closed and places it back in its original place before standing up and making his way towards his still sitting friend.

"Alright, that's it." Quackity looks visibly confused, even a bit worried, as he leans back into his chair, but Schlatt is a man on a mission: he won’t be swayed by it, this is supposed to be an intervention. He stops once he’s close, standing up right next to Quackity, and his friend looks nervously up at him, a high pitched self conscious chuckle escaping him.

"Wh-what- what's up?" Schlatt gives him a quick look just to confirm his theory, but he knows him. And most importantly, he knows himself, he knows he can manage it.

"You, in a moment-" He quips, bending down and quickly scooping the shorter man up, one arm under his legs while the other supports his back and then-

"Wait, hold on- hold on I-” Quackity starts to protest, but by then Schlatt already has a secure hold on him, so up they go, followed by a yelp by Quackity himself as he is quite suddenly hoisted up into Schlatt’s arms, one hand reaching out and wrapping around the taller man’s shirt with a vice-like grip as he splutters, eyes wide as saucers.

“HOLY SHIT-! HOW IN THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT?!"

And to be completely fair, Schlatt is not one to back down from the chance to boast at this type of thing, so he simply shrugs and squeezes him closer with a self satisfied smirk: "I told you I lift, you dumbass."

"I- I- put me down." Quackity gapes, seemingly still wrapping his head around the sudden switch in situation; the way he leans into the hold is probably unconscious, but it does confirm his theory that his vice president, his closest friend, is in desperate need of being on the receiving end of some care and comfort. And he knows, deep inside himself, that he’s not the best candidate for the job, but if nobody’s going to do it then he is for sure going to.

"I will in a moment. You need sleep." He replies, tone firm but not loud, reaching out with a hand to turn off the desk lamp - inwardly thanking the low light coming from the torches in the corridor for allowing him not to make a fool of himself by immediately tripping on his feet.

"I- alright, but I can get to my room on my own!" Quackity protests, sounding flustered, and Schlatt has a moment of hesitation as the sudden fear of having overstepped a boundary hits him. Maybe he shouldn't have done this. Shit, fuck, he's screwed this, hasn't he?

But as he pauses for a moment to look down at Quackity, to asses the situation, he realises that the man is actually clutching at him, and his head is resting under his chin - the soft fabric of the beanie pushing against his cheek the moment he bends his head to look down. Schlatt lets out a steadying breath: he can do this.

"I know you can. I don't mind doing this, though." He states, firmly but not unlindly, voice softening, and he holds him close again - one armed as he reaches out to close the corridor's door. A huff of breath warms a spot over his chest.

"I- you're such a fucking showoff, dude." He murmurs, accepting the situation with what sounds like a small smile on his face.

It takes him a minute, but soon he's opening the door of Quackity's bedroom. The shorter man, who had been slowly relaxing overtime, leaning more and more into his chest, startles as if waking up from sleeping and tenses up.

"Alright, now you can drop me off." He comments, but Schlatt is a bit more preoccupied with losing himself inside his own mind as he thinks about what to do next, so Quackity stays up - it's not like he's gonna wriggle around and risk falling on his ass on the ground. After a moment, he looks down at where Q's hand is clutching at his shirt, and at where his head is still pressed against his chest. A part of him is enjoying this too, and isn't really ready to let go, but still, this isn't about him. It's about what Quackity wants.

So he forces his anxieties down, swallows around the knot in his throat and tries.

"What- what if I didn't yet, though." Quackity is silent for a moment after that, but his hand doesn't unclench, so he counts it as a good thing.

"You're not making any sense, man."

Schlatt is stood in the middle of the room, holding Quackity up, keeping him close, and he feels like he's balancing multiple instincts wanting to drag him in any direction - anywhere else other than here, right now, when stuff is so confusing and worrisome and he's constantly scared of scaring Quackity off with something weird.

But yet again, he keeps it down, keeps it quiet. For his friend.

"I've been seeing how stressed you are. Is this helping? Please be honest." If he had a free hand, he would be running it through his hair, a nervous habit he's been picking back up. Yet, his arms are starting to feel the strain of holding a body up, so he's not going to risk letting him fall to the ground. After what seems like an eternity, another sigh in the form of a warm puff of breath hits his chest as Quackity concedes.

"... A bit …"

Good, he can't help but think. Communication is key in these situations. In all situations really, but he appreciates the fact that Q is opening up and letting him know he is alright with being held like this. Spurred on by this, he ponders his next words perhaps a bit too little.

"Is it the caring or the touching?"

Quackity visibly flinches at the wordings, leaning back a little - pushing more strain on Schlatt's right arm - to stare at him with a sarcastic frown.

"Shit, man, you are such a wordsmith-"

Too quick, too many variables lost to the moment, and Schlatt is swept up in the frenzy of the situation - he has never, ever been good at smoothing out situations.

"Will you just answer-"

"It's both! Geeze, are you happy now?!" Quackity's embarrassed outburst manages to at the same time shut him up and quieten the anxious voices in his head - so he was right, Quackity did like this, and he didn't mind it. Now if that wasn't a win in his book … he sighs, squeezing him close.

"Yeah, kinda. See, it wasn't hard. You little bitch." He comments, tone way too fond for him to be taken seriously ever again, but he figures he's allowed to be a bit soft - it's late, they're tired, and they're the only ones in the room.

Schlatt decides he's not going to subject himself to the mortifying ordeal of starting to lose strength in his arms - he has a reputation to uphold - so he quickly makes his way to the large bed, turns and sits down, inwardly relieved that he's managed to get this far. His nerves still haven't betrayed him. Yet. At least Quackity isn't launching himself on the other side of the room the moment he has a chance not to fall on the ground if he moves the wrong way.

"What are you doing?" Quackity asks, sounding genuinely confused as he looks up at him with furrowed brows, so now it's Schlatt's turn to splutter indignantly, the arm under Q's legs sneaking up to wave confusedly in the air.

"I'm about to murder you is what I'm doing- what does it look like?! I'm trying to comfort you!"

A moment of silence follows, during which Schlatt stares awkwardly at Quackity's shocked face. Then Q's eyes soften and he starts chuckling, shaking his head for a moment before he lets it fall back down against his collarbone, sneaking an arm around his waist.

"Feeling real fucking comforted, for sure." He comments, humour loud in his voice as he squirms around for a moment trying to find a comfortable position, quieting a moment later and letting out a small sigh.

"I am going to throw you into the river." Schlatt answers, bringing the hand that was holding his back up to the nape of his neck, fingers dipping under his beanie to lightly scratch at his scalp, pressing his friend's forehead against his neck.

When Quackity answers a moment later, his voice is but a murmur.

"I thought you were here to comfort me?"

"Shut up and be comforted, then, you dumbass." He huffs out, but there's a smile on his face despite the way he tries to seem angry. He is still way too soft to be taken seriously, and he'll be mad about it later, when Quackity will keep making coffee for the both of them, but then he'll lean into him while Schlatt's making eggs for Fundy, and he'll call him soft when he remembers to add the herbs the young fox hybrid picked himself; not to mention how he'll suddenly realise who had been bringing Tubbo back to his room after the kid had fallen asleep on the couch.

But still, it's worth it, as he slowly grabs the hand that is still gripping his shirt, gently pressing against his fingers until he lets go; he places it back on Quackity's lap, rubbing what he hopes are comforting circles into his wrist - he knows how bad it can get when you spend all day writing, and knows his intuition payed off when his friend's shoulders relax even further.

To be quite honest, Quackity hadn't even realised his writing hand had been hurting.

A joke threatens to rise in Q's throat, a way to diffuse the situation, a mechanism born from ages of repressing wholesomeness because that's the type of things that get you in trouble, because feelings get treated as a weakness, but he squashes it down, closing his eyes with a sigh as he lets himself enjoy the moment.

The warmth of a hug that is truly meant, the comforting weight of Schlatt's head against the top of his, the blissful peace that he associates with having his hair played with - It's been a while since he had the chance to do this, to feel this.

He could fall asleep like this, he thinks, eyes closing on their own and body melting into the sensation, and he finds himself floating, suspended - but also grounded, tethered by the points of contact between their bodies.

He feels- he feels like he did when Fundy tried to teach him German, him stumbling over the words while the other laughed with him; or like all the times Tubbo brought him outside in the garden, guiding him through the steps needed to take care of his beloved pets.

He feels at home.

And after a moment, he feels Schlatt relax too, his movements less precise, less rithmic, his shoulders sagging a bit as they lean more into each other instead of just Quackity against him - and doesn't that feel poignant, he thinks, but not pointing it out loud feels like a better choice.

He feels before he hears the low timbre of Schlatt's voice, unusually quiet due to a mix of tiredness and the silent atmosphere surrounding them.

"I'm gonna lie back. That alright with you?"

It takes a moment for Quackity to realise that he is asking for permission. He wants to nod, but that would jostle their heads. So he hums in what hopes is a notably affirmative way, and just to be sure his message is correctly interpreted, he turns his palm upward, fingers wrapping around the taller man's wrist, and squeezes.

He feels a chuckle vibrate through the chest under his cheek; again, quiet, toned down, but this time it also feels like he's trying not to move too much - and that right there makes him want to never stop smiling, especially whenever Schlatt pretends he doesn't care. Because if there is one thing Quackity knows is that he cares so much, despite the fact that he still pretends he doesn't know how a doctor found their way to Fundy's room after he scraped his knee, the poor medic armed as if somebody had just lost an arm.

Schlatt thinks he's so good at hiding his feelings, and then he stops buying a specific type of marmalade because Tubbo joked about it tasting funny. He is nothing but a dork, and this has just done nothing more than confirm his suspicions.

The hand in his hair gently cups his head as Schlatt leans back until he's laying on the bed, and Quackity has to swallow back a knot in his throat at the pure, unaltered sweetness with which he is being treated - like he's fragile, but not in a bad, diminishing way: like you would treat a fancy ancient vase, or a masterpiece.

Quackity squeezes his eyes, feeling himself get watery, and focuses on the fact that like this, he's not that comfortable anymore. There's no need for his legs to be both over his friend's body, so he shuffles back until he's more curled up against his side, half laying on his chest, head still tucked under his chin - by god how perfectly safe he feels with that soft pressure against his temple.

Schlatt lets him wriggle around, the hand in his hair never moving, and once he stills his other one moves back to his own chest, where Quackity's hand rests against his heart, and his fingers gently wrap around his.

"This alright?" Comes a murmur from above him and Quackity's fingers squeeze automatically in response, finding himself unable to verbalise an answer at first.

"Thank you." He breathes out a moment later, after he's able to reign in his emotions just enough for him to find his voice again.

"Don't- don't thank me." Comes Schlatt's instant response, the fingers in his hair halting for a moment as he pauses, seemingly deep in thought. When he speaks again, his tone is once again slow and hushed, and his fingers are once more rubbing slow circles against his scalp.

"You can come to me for this. Anytime you want. I want you to know that you can count on me."

And oh, alright, Quackity thinks, eyes widening for a moment - he has to hurry and squeeze them shut before he starts tearing up, fighting against the way emotions squeeze at his chest; pure unadulterated joy at the knowledge that this is true, this is good and this is his. His small, dumb, weird family, made of mostly jagged pieces that somehow fit so well together. Quackity clutches at the fingers wrapped around his, squeezing maybe just a bit too tight, throat thick and feelings running, and then he simply nods into his friend's collarbone.

Schlatt just squeezes back - and that's just how they are, two dumbass friends holding onto each other, doing their best.

Minutes later, he falls asleep, lulled by the rhythmic rise and fall of his friend's chest and the gentle feeling of being held.

#my writing #quackity #jschlatt #dream smp au #we're back with some good ol comfort #I do hope you'll enjoy

27 notes · View notes

omg-imagine · 4 years

Text

⊱ Forget Me Not (5/15) ⊰

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Reader

Summary: After you wake up from a coma and realize that your memories from the last five years have been erased, Keanu works to bring back what you have lost.

Words: 3.1k

Warning: none (i’m giving you guys a break here lol)

A/N: Loved reading everyone’s responses to the previous part, but it will be awhile until you find out the truth 😈 Sorry that this was up later than usual, I’m currently drowning in finals which is thankfully ending this week. I hope you enjoy this one!

Part 4

The sound of birds chirping a sweet, melodious tune stirred you awake, and you rubbed the remnants of sleep from your eyes once they fluttered open. For a moment, you snuggled deeper under the duvet, pressing your cheek to the cool, silk-cased pillow. The soft fabric felt smooth against your skin as you laid there breathing in the scent of it—fresh cotton, with a hint of Keanu, or at least, that’s what you believed he smelled like.

This must be his usual side of the mattress, you thought. The other being yours.

After you had fallen asleep on the car ride home yesterday, you didn’t rouse until Keanu parked his car in the driveway and turned off the engine. Still drowsy from taking your medication, he guided you to the front door and then up the stairs to the master bedroom. He showed you the bathroom and the closet, pointing out where you usually kept the clothes you wore to sleep. When you assured him enough that you would be alright for the rest of the evening, he wished you good night before retiring to the guest bedroom across the hall.

It felt strange being alone in an unfamiliar room, much more sleeping in a bed that didn’t feel like yours. Despite this, you had woken up from the best sleep you’ve had in a long time. It could be because of the soft and comfortable king-size bed you had slept on or the calming lavender diffuser on the nightstand. Perhaps it was the fact that your life seemed to be better now than it was before, even though you had still had a lot to learn. Whichever it was, it didn’t matter at that very second.

Because for now, you would much rather bask in the peacefulness of the world around you.

It wasn’t until when your stomach growled did the tranquil silence fall apart, hunger forcing you to throw back the covers and leave the warm solace of the bed. Slipping on the silk robe that you had found hanging behind the bathroom door, you then stepped out of the room and into the narrow hallway. Immediately, you were greeted by the delicious aroma of eggs and sausages lingering in the air.

Carefully, you descended the stairs, pausing for a few moments to glance at the framed photographs of you and Keanu on the wall, providing glimpses of your happy relationship. There were four in total, all of which were taken similarly, the two of you smiling brightly with radiant eyes. The settings in each one were different; the first had you posing by a lakefront, the second was at a movie premiere, the next at a fancy restaurant, and the last at a garden.

Once you reached the last step, however, you realized that there was a vacant space for a sixth picture.

Turning your head, you caught sight of the photo that could have been displayed there resting on a console by the front entrance. Curiously, you walked towards it and picked it up with your hands, quickly noticing the large crack on the glass.

The picture was a selfie taken at a scenic overlook in what appeared to be Los Angeles. You had one arm draped behind Keanu’s neck, pulling him close as you kissed his stubbled cheek while he grinned at the camera. It was such a sweet captured moment, and it must have fallen off the wall recently.

“Morning,” Keanu’s voice startled you as he came up from behind, nearly dropping the picture in your grasp. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You giggled slightly as you turned around, unable to stop the breath hitching in your throat when you saw him. He was dressed in gray sweats and a simple white tee that was just a smidge too tight around his arms. His dark locks framed his face nicely as he gazed at you with his chocolate-hued eyes.

Keanu was surely a sight to see first thing in the morning.

“It’s okay,” you finally replied. “I was too busy looking at this and didn’t hear you coming.”

“I forgot to put it back up,” he noted after seeing what you were holding. “Can’t believe I missed that while I was cleaning the house. I’d have to go out and buy a new frame for that.”

“No rush,” you added, your attention returning to the picture. “When was this taken?”

“Around three years ago,” Keanu answered as he neared you, looking over your shoulder. “That spot is actually special to us. It’s where we shared our first kiss, and since then, we’d always revisit that place.”

You smiled softly. “Really?”

“Yeah. Usually, you and I would take the bike up there to watch the sun go down and wait until the stars appear in the sky. It’s nothing like what you would see if you’re just standing out in the backyard.”

“Wait, a bike? Like a motorcycle? I rode a motorcycle up to the hills?” You spoke incredulously.

Keanu nodded, giving you a small smile. “Yes, you did. I know you’ve never been on a bike before you met me.”

“Don’t get me wrong, those things are cool, but I can’t imagine myself being on one.”

“Well, you grew to love it—the thrill, the excitement, the freedom. I even taught you how to ride by yourself,” Keanu revealed, much to your surprise.

“I must have been the worst,” you chuckled, setting the picture back on top of the console before wrapping your arms around your chest. “It took me years to learn how to get on a bicycle.”

Keanu laughed, brushing his hair back, and you suddenly felt the butterflies in your stomach. Something about his laughter as it reverberated in his chest brought you absolute joy. It also made your heart race, knowing that you were the reason for it.

“No, you weren’t that bad,” he said with a shake of his head. “Honestly, you’re pretty decent, but I promised that we would continue working on it.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Ke,” you responded jokingly, the nickname rolling out of your tongue so effortlessly at the end.

For a beat, you saw the smile on Keanu’s face fell, but before you could ask him what was wrong, it returned, albeit a bit forced. You didn’t want to think too much of it, however.

“Um, I made breakfast by the way,” he stated in an attempt to change the subject. “I’m not the best cook, but I did my very best. I didn’t burn the sausages, unlike last time.”

“It does smell delicious in here,” you commented, feeling your stomach rumbling once more. “I can’t wait to try your cooking.”

“Good, and maybe afterwards, if you’re up for it, I can show you around, give you an official tour of the house.”

“I’d like that very much,” you smiled, nodding at Keanu before he began leading the way, and you followed.

---

After breakfast, you tried to help Keanu with the dirty dishes, but he insisted that he took care of them, wanting you to relax and take it easy. As he cleaned up the kitchen, you decided to brush your teeth and take a quick shower in your bathroom upstairs.

Peeling off your robe and clothes, you stood in front of the mirror, staring at the scars on your body. Although you knew that they would fade away in time, they would serve as a reminder of that fateful night—a night that remained mostly unknown to you.

Stepping into the shower, you turned on the water, adjusting the settings using the dial on the wall. The water cascaded your back with the perfect amount of pressure and temperature as the warm steam floated around you. Your mind eased as you stood underneath the gentle downpour, letting the mixture of water and soap careen down your body to the drain below.

You closed your eyes briefly, thinking back to earlier when you and Keanu were eating the food he had prepared that morning. He used that time to tell you more about himself. He started off with basic facts such as his family, his childhood, and his favorite hobbies. Then he got a bit deeper, sharing things that most people didn’t know about him. Slowly, you were getting to know the real Keanu, and from what you’ve learned so far, he was a great guy. Sure, he wasn’t perfect, but he was sweet and kind, and that’s what mattered, right?

Once you finished showering, you headed to the walk-in closet in your room with a towel wrapped around your body. Keanu had moved most of his stuff to the guest room, making the closet seem a lot bigger. For a good minute or two, you felt overwhelmed standing there, seeing all of the clothes that you apparently wore but wouldn’t have five years ago. Some pieces appeared to be too expensive for you to even afford, and you couldn’t believe that you owned so many pairs of shoes and purses.

Deciding to put on a black shirt with the word “Arch” emblazoned on it and a pair of jean shorts, you then heard a knock on your door, and you sauntered over to answer it.

“Hey, are you ready?” Keanu asked, smiling. “Nice shirt, by the way.”

“Oh, thanks. I found it in the closet,” you replied as you joined him out in the hall. “Show me around?”

Truth be told, the house wasn’t as large as what you expected Keanu to have. It was smaller than the houses nearby, but more modest compared to those extravagant ones other celebrities lived in. It had three bedrooms and three bathrooms, and a spacious front yard with flowers that you’ve planted yourself. The furniture and decor inside were tasteful, reflecting both of your personalities in each room.

The garage was big enough to fit four cars but instead were filled with Keanu’s most valuable possessions— his motorcycles. You listened intently as he talked endearingly about his bikes, almost the same way a child would gush about a new toy. It even made him excited when you showed genuine interest, especially after mentioning having his own motorcycle company, Arch, which explained your shirt.

Keanu then brought you out to the backyard, which quickly became your favorite part of the entire house. Not only was there a sparkling swimming pool and a patio area for barbeques, but it also had a breathtaking view of the rolling hills and the city skyline in the distance. You had to pause for a moment to take in the view. It was unlike anything you’ve seen before, and you had to remind yourself that this was your home now.

“There’s one more thing I want to show you,” Keanu said after a while, and the two of you went back inside, heading to the living room.

He gestured for you to sit down on the sofa as he walked to the bookcase by the television, pulling out what seemed to be a thick photo album. He carried it over to where you sat, placing it down gently on the coffee table in front of you before flipping it open to the first page.

“Our story,” you read the words written on the paper out loud, and you recognized your own handwriting.

“You love taking pictures,” Keanu began as he turned to the next page. “On our first anniversary, you surprised me with this album. You filled it with all of the photos we took together, showing the many adventures we went on. As time went on, we only added more to it.”

“I always say photographs immortalize precious memories,” you said, looking at each picture with fondness in your eyes. “Mom mentioned that I’m currently working as photographer.”

Keanu nodded. “You quit your office job to pursue your passion. You dream of opening up your own studio one day, but you wanted to gain experience first.”

You hummed in response as you lightly traced a finger over the edge of the page, softly smiling at the pure love radiating out of the images. Behind each of them was a story which Keanu recounted, hoping that it would jog some of your memory back. Although nothing came, you loved the sweetness in his voice as he spoke. He was a fantastic story-teller, bringing up every detail of the moment the picture was taken and making you feel as though you were currently there.

And that’s how the rest of the day mostly went for you and Keanu, only stopping to make sandwiches for lunch before going back to the couch. You were so engrossed in each tale that you didn’t realize the sky outside growing darker until Keanu turned on the lamp resting on the end table, illuminating the space around you.

As you ate dinner together, you couldn’t help but smile at all of the adventures you went on with Keanu. It was more proof that you were at your happiest when the relationship started. You now felt grateful to have met him years ago because you couldn’t even begin to imagine what life would be like if you hadn’t.

Before going to sleep later that night, you read the get-well cards that your loved ones had sent you while you were at the hospital. Most of the names that you recognized were of your family and friends from back home, and until today, the rest had been unfamiliar. Now you know that Betty was the owner of the book shop you and Keanu frequented, Lillian was your old neighbor from the apartment you used to live in, and Harry was someone from work.

It was already past midnight, and you still weren’t tired, even after taking your medicine. Instead of tossing and turning in bed, you decided to pass the time by going through the photo album again. You recalled the vivid way Keanu described the memory, and your head played each moment like it was a scene from a movie. Sighing, you shut your eyes and silently held onto that feeling of bliss the picture gave for as long as you could.

Suddenly, you heard a loud crash from downstairs, followed by a curse. Swiftly, you rushed out of the bedroom and headed to the living room, finding Keanu kneeling down and picking up winter boots from the floor. You assumed he was trying to reach for a box inside a nearby closet but had dropped it.

“Sorry for waking you up, I was searching for something,” he mumbled as he sat on his heels and ran a hand over his weary face.

“Don’t worry, I was still awake,” you reassured Keanu, helping him back up on his feet. “What were you looking for?”

“A camcorder,” he answered before storing the box back on the shelf in the closet. “We brought it with us on our trip to Italy and recorded a few things on it. I wanted to find it and show you the videos, but I think we might have left it at your parent’s house last Christmas.”

Keanu sighed heavily as he padded over to the couch and sank down in one corner. Meanwhile, you trailed behind him, sitting down in the middle as he glanced off in the distance. You could tell that he was exhausted, and you wondered what was keeping him up so late at night.

“What’s wrong, Ke?” You questioned, facing your body towards him as he rubbed his eyes.

“Nothing,” he uttered although he wasn’t very persuasive.

“Then, why are you still up?”

Keanu sat up, clasping his hands together on his lap, leaning forward. His hair shielded his eyes from you, and you carefully reached out to tuck it behind his ear. You didn’t let your hand drop right after, however. Instead, you placed it on the side of his face, softly caressing it with the tips of your fingers as you urged him to look at you.

“Keanu,” you whispered his name as he covered the back of your hand with his own. “You know you can tell me anything.”

He released a breath as you felt him lean into your touch, his eyes fluttering close. When they opened again, his lips finally parted to speak.

“It’s the nightmares. They came back last night, and I wasn’t able to sleep. I tried going to bed an hour ago but just couldn’t do it.”

“What kind of nightmares are they?” You inquired, still holding him.

Keanu averted his gaze as you stroked his cheek with the pad of your thumb. “It’s about your accident. I keep dreaming that you didn’t make it, and all that’s left for me to do is just blame myself for letting it happen in the first place.”

“Why would you blame yourself? I was the one driving in the middle of a storm. You had nothing to do with this.”

You noticed him instantly tense up at your words, and when he tried to move away, you kept him from doing so. “Ke, why would you say that?”

Keanu’s glossy eyes returned to yours as he shook his head. “I-I don’t know.”

You smiled sadly at him, choosing not to push any further for both yours and his sake. You could see that he was having an internal battle with himself, and although it was worrying you, you didn’t want to complicate things even more. “Okay, you don’t have to tell me now. Not until when you’re ready.”

“I want to tell you, but…” he trailed off, and you nodded.

“It’s okay. Whatever you did, I’ll understand. I just want you to get some rest tonight,” you replied as an idea came to your mind. “You probably know this already, but I like falling asleep with a movie quietly playing in the background. Maybe we could try that?”

“You don’t have to stay up for me,” Keanu declined, but you were already reaching for the remote on the table. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.”

You gave him a shake of your head as you turned the television on and quickly found a channel where a film was showing. “Nope, you took care of me yesterday at the restaurant. This is the least I can do.”

Keanu sighed in defeat as he sat back on the couch and calmed down. At first, there was a bit of distance between the two of you. Then, gradually, you began leaning into him, feeling your own exhaustion settling in. You didn’t notice the arm wrapped around your shoulder until half-way through the movie, and you couldn’t help but snuggle deeper into Keanu’s warm side.

Eventually, your eyes began to drift close as the sounds of his light snores filled the room. Not wanting to disturb the peace, you decided to stay there in the comfort of his arms for the night, and something about it simply felt right.

Part 6

Tags: @penwieldingdreamer @fanficsrusz @toomanystoriessolittletime @awessomness @meetmeinthematinee @ringa-starr @ficsnroses @iworshipkeanureeves

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves x you #my fics #reader insert #rpf

96 notes · View notes

pascalls · 4 years

Note

Huzzah! A romance prompt:

Hot Chocolate

I finally wrote something for this and it’s so dumb but I hope you all enjoy it. Featuring Charlie, Sam the Barfly, and Moe (and also Barney a little bit).

--------------------------

With the taste of malt liquor stale on his tongue, Charlie found himself coming back to consciousness, a musky scent filling his nose and making him want to gag. The greasy floor he was laying on was hard and uncomfortable, having left his bones aching and his back feeling like he’d just been hit by a car. His eyes opened, despite his brain not wanting to, and for once, he was thankful that the lighting in Moe’s was subpar, at best. The dusty interior was not an aggravated assault on the senses, but still, he would have liked to have woken up in a bed instead of on the hard tile.

“Ugh… What time is it,” he groaned, not yet sitting up, but at least trying to peer over to where Moe was hovering, lazily wiping down the bar top with an overused rag. There was no way it was morning yet. Or, at least, it wasn’t past sunrise. Otherwise Moe would be pouring vodka into his bowl of Froot Loops. It didn’t seem like he’d gone to bed yet.

“Two-thirty,” the bartender responded. He didn’t seem very bothered by the fact that Charlie had passed out on the floor. Not like it was the first time. As of late, the hybrid had a bad habit of finding some kind of substance, chasing it with his body weight in whiskey, and then promptly falling asleep before he could make it back to the reverend’s. “You slept with Barney.”

“I what-?!” Charlie exclaimed, pushing himself up, only to whack his head on the underside of the table he’d holed up under. His ears rang and he groaned again, reaching up to rub at his scalp. Ow.

“Oh. Hah. Sorry. I meant you fell asleep under the table next to Barney.”

Charlie glanced over to see that Moe was correct. Barney had somehow rolled off the bar stool he’d been sitting on a few hours prior, passing out unceremoniously underneath the large circular table that was neighbor to Charlie’s. The hybrid muttered to himself before eventually crawling out from under his sleeping spot, making his way over to the bar to sit and glaring at Moe.

“Don’t ever scare me like that ever again.”

They weren’t alone. While Barney had opted for a nap, Charlie recognized a few others still lingering in the wee hours of the morning. He assumed both Lenny and Carl had staggered home not too long ago, but both Larry and Sam remained, neither seeming to be very invested in their own consciousness. As was the usual. Charlie’s stare lingered for just a moment before Moe was pulling his attention back.

“You wanna nightcap?” He asked, already in the process of grabbing a nearby bottle which Charlie quickly refused. His stomach was churning a bit from his previous binge. He didn’t need to lose everything he’d eaten during the day on top of his splitting headache and exhaustion.

“No, m’fine. I should probably… go before somebody gets on my ass about not being where I need to be.”

“Alright, but you better not be drivin’.” Moe pointed at the hybrid with a squint; one that Charlie returned in kind.

“I don’t have a car.”

“I figured you’d steal one.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because that’s what I’d do.”

Rolling his eyes, Charlie scooted off the stool and made his way to the door, passing the other two men briefly and giving them a passing wave. He’d talked to the pair once or twice. They were wordier when they were drunk, but only just so. And somewhere in the back of his mind, Charlie reminded himself, that Sam knew a little more about Charlie by pure happenstance. Thankfully, he’d remained fairly quiet about that too.

Swinging open the door, Charlie took a few steps outside before he realized - a little too late - that rain was coming down fairly heavily. There was no wind to carry it in one direction or another, the drops simply pouring onto the pavement and soaking Charlie entirely. The hybrid stared dully into the distance. This might as well happen.

He didn’t move from where he was, just sort of standing there on the sidewalk and feeling his clothes get more and more soaked through. His brain didn’t seem to think that was much of an issue, but his feet refused to carry him in the direction of home. Instead, he continued to stare into nothingness, exhaustion - and a sudden heavy veil of listlessness - keeping him rooted to the spot. Somewhere along the line, he began to realize that his temperature was dropping. That was probably not good. He’d have to fix that before long.

“...You’re gettin’ all wet.”

The voice pulled him back to the present, turning and noticing that Sam and Larry had finally made their way out of Moe’s, presumably to retire for the night before they too passed out next to Barney. Larry was already walking away, his jacket collar pulled up in a fruitless effort to protect him from the rain. Sam, on the other hand, at least had an umbrella keeping him dry as he stared at Charlie with some manner of concern.

“...Uh. Yeah. I guess I am,” Charlie replied, blinking once or twice and then glancing down at himself. Hm. Well. Yeah. He was wet. Wow.

Sam glanced around briefly before taking a few steps over and placing the umbrella over the both of them. As he spoke, his words slurred, but Charlie didn’t notice over his own foggy state of mind. “You’re not some kinda marine iguana or somethin’ right? I think they like water. Saw it on uh… Mm… That… science… channel once.”

“National Geographic?” Charlie asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Nah…” Sam replied. “ESPN 2.”

The hybrid snorted in amusement. “No. I’m not a marine iguana. I’m just… really drunk, I think.” Among other things. He’d taken some mixture of pills that he would not recommend to anyone else. But they would make their way out of his system eventually. “Uh… Thanks. For the…” He gestured to the umbrella.

“Honestly, this weather ain’t great for walking. Y’think Moe’s got anything to eat in there?”

Charlie seemed to give that some thought. It was already the middle of the night. And if Lovejoy wasn’t blowing up his phone by now, the chances of him noticing any time before sunrise was slim. He hummed a little under his breath before shrugging. It was probably best he filled his stomach with something other than booze and pills.

“Let’s ask.”

Sam didn’t need much convincing himself before he moved to keep them marginally dry as they wandered back into the bar. Moe had been in the process of trying to roll Barney over with a broom so he could sweep up underneath him, but glanced up when the door opened again. Charlie shook the water from himself as best as he could, but it was to little avail. He’d probably just need to wait until he was dry.

Closing the umbrella, Sam tossed it against the wall near the door and settled himself back on the stool where he’d been before, Charlie scooting up and onto the one next to him. As long as Barney was passed out, the hybrid took some time to pull off his mask and other effects which were fairly soaked through, placing them on the stool next to him and breathing out a little sigh. Moe had seen him a few times by now. It seemed like more and more people knew what he looked like as time went on. At that particular moment, he couldn’t find it in him to care.

“Tell me you’ve got something to eat,” Charlie asked as Moe drifted back over, looking over the rain-soaked man with some scrutiny.

“I’ve got uh… Probably some Spam sitting around somewhere. Lemme look.”

“I’m having a hard time turning that down.” Charlie wasn’t going to be picky. And apparently, neither was Sam, as the man said nothing.

Moe disappeared in the back room for a time, clattering around among his shelves and god knew what else. Charlie watched as a roach slid out from the doorway and promptly disappeared into the nearest electrical socket. There was a little buzz, a hiss, and the roach did not re-emerge. The hybrid assumed that whatever it saw in the back room was heinous enough for the little bug to end it all.

“Well lookee here!” Moe proclaimed as he re-emerged, holding a half-empty jug of milk and a bottle of chocolate syrup that looked like it came from the 70’s. “It ain’t Spam, but it’s somethin’, huh? Check this out.”

“Chocolate milk?” Sam asked, staring at the bartender.

“Nah. Even better.” Moe brought over the ingredients, pouring the milk into a few glasses and squirting the chocolate… syrup (it looked more like sauce at this point) into it soon after. He then held up each mug in turn, using a lighter to heat up the bottom of the glass before plopping a few stale marshmallow Peeps that were sad and dull from their time spent hidden somewhere in the cabinets beneath the bar. Presumably from Easter. ...This past Easter, hopefully.

Pleased with himself, Moe offered two of the glasses to Charlie and Sam who stared at the brown concoction that was making short work of dissolving those Peeps into rainbow mush that floated at the top of the layer of milk. “See? Hot cocoa! PERFECT for them rainy days like this one.” As if to sell the mixture, he took a long swig of his own, choking back the drink with a few hacked coughs and then offering his two patrons a grimacing smile. “Eh? EH?!”

Charlie squinted down at his own before coming to the conclusion that… he really didn’t even care what he put into his own body at this point. And the chocolate DID smell at least a little enticing. So with a little glance at Sam and a shrug, he upended his own into his mouth. It was not great. In fact, one might even say that it was terrible. The milk was absolutely close to spoiling, if not already spoiled, and the Peeps floated around in his mouth in chunky bits. But he downed the drink dutifully. It was warm, if nothing else. And it’d keep him from drifting off into a hypothermic coma.

“...It’s great, Moe,” Charlie replied once he was able to say anything about it at all. A blatant lie, but the bartender was content with the review. The hybrid just hoped he wouldn’t put it on his ‘menu’ as a permanent addition.

“Uh… yeah. Really… great.” Sam added, having had a bit of a harder time with his own, but he too didn’t find it very necessary to spoil Moe’s spirits. But the two shared a knowing glance, watching as Moe, triumphant that he’d created something worthwhile for once in his life, scurried off to write down his ‘recipe’.

Charlie pushed his empty glass away, poking his tongue out a little in disgust. Egh. “We can never tell him.”

Sam did the same with his own, wishing that he’d just ordered another beer instead. “...Yeah, I’m on board with that.”

“And so the pact is sealed,” Charlie joked, reaching up with a hand to offer his pinky claw to the other. “I would say we should seal it in blood, but I’m already suffering with this aftertaste.”

Sam offered a little smirk before reaching up to hook his own pinky with Charle’s. “Takin’ it to the grave.”

Their hands remained touching for a few seconds, a delayed reaction only bringing Charlie’s back to himself after a prolonged met gaze, his eyes flicking away in mild embarrassment. He was drunk. They were both drunk. Reaching up, Charlie absently ran a hand through his hair to try and make it a little more… presentable. He wasn’t sure why.

Well. He wanted to pretend that he wasn’t sure why.

Moe’s return chased away the moment. He’d come back with more random ‘ingredients’ he’d found in the back storeroom.

Charlie and Sam gave a few little groans. Had Charlie known they’d be given the job as taste-testers, he might have just walked back to Lovejoy’s in the storm.

But… he wasn’t alone here. Even if he’d never get the taste of stale Peeps off his tongue, he at least felt content with the knowledge that there was a warmth keeping him from drifting too far into the cold loneliness of the rain.

Yeah. This was better.

#tj talk #tj writes #oc #simpsona #axe bosk #spooky-simp

16 notes · View notes