🌴🐚 kiri's bookshop 🐚🌴

y/n sprung the idea onto jaafar as soon as he stepped foot into the house, his coat still on and shoes not even untied.

“we’re baking a cake,” she declared, her voice soft with poorly hidden excitement as she wrapped her arms round him, letting him pull her into a delicate kiss.

“a cake?” he lifted a brow, setting her back down as he slid out of her coat, hanging it up on the peg beside her one, “do i get a vote?”

“nope,” y/n smiled, clapping her hands together as she tugged on his hand, half-dragging him to the kitchen.

“my mom used to bake vanilla cakes all the time when i was a kid,” she said, busying herself with grabbing the flour as jaafar peaked over at the recipe on her phone. it looked easy enough.

“so we’ve got ourselves a little expert, then, hm angel?” he looked up from the recipe, a small smile on his lips.

y/n just grinned over triumphantly, looking through all the different kinds of sugars.

“what first?” jaafar looked down at the empty bowl, all the ingredients laid out neatly around it. y/n adored her working spaces to be clean and organised.

“first,” she said, her voice light, “i’m doing all the stirring. i’m in charge, remember?” she tugged on his shirt, moving him to the side as he rolled his eyes. y/n had always been bossy.

“whatever you say, angel,” he hummed, watching as she measured and added the ingredients into the bowl.

“here,” she handed him an egg, the warm light reflecting off the top of its shell.

“how generous of you,” he cracked the egg against the side of the bowl, watching as the yolk pooled into the mixture, emptying from the shells.

somewhere behind them, the little speaker played a quiet version of ‘human nature’, the sound only broken by y/n’s occasional humming and the bin opening as jaafar dumped the empty shells into it.

“should i stir, angel?” he looked at the gloopy mixture, ready to be whisked into a perfect, delicious cake.

“i’m in charge,” y/n huffed, taking the whisk and stirring the mixture round the bowl.

jaafar didn’t mind.

he liked watching her work, she was in her element. baking had been one of the first things they’d done when they started dating.

sure, the cookies were a crumbly mess but they tasted…acceptable if you ignored the charred chocolate chips inside.

it was like old times.

“actually,” y/n scrunched her nose, “you can stir,” she stepped back, shaking her arm slightly, avoiding his gaze.

“and why’s that?” jaafar couldn’t keep the teasing out of his voice as she rolled her eyes, mumbling something about her arm hurting.

“if you insist,” he sent a wink her way, graciously stirring the mixture.

“you’re good at this,”

“only because i have the best teacher,”

“you’re impossible,” y/n laughed, pushing against his shoulder as she dusted her hands, taking over to pour the mixture into the cake tin.

“there we go,” she said, clapping her hands together. maybe this time, one of their creations would go right.

they both watched as y/n shut the oven door, the mixture settling into the hot oven.

“how long does the recipe say to leave it in for?” y/n fiddled with the little time on the side, before it was gently taken from her hands.

“doesn’t matter, we’ll know when it’s done, angel,” jaafar smiled. before she could protest, his hands were on her waist, fingers splayed across the cotton of her t-shirt.

his lips met hers in the kind of kiss that made the room feel ten times warmer than it was, heat creeping up her face.

the small of her back hit the counter gently, his lips still on hers before they both pulled back to catch their breath, foreheads resting against each others.

“i could get used to this,” he mumbled, his lips closing the distance once more.

y/n tilted her head back slightly, letting him guide her into another kiss, slower this time, lingering. the kitchen around them seemed to fade, leaving just the two of them and the scent of vanilla still warm in the air.

neither of them were quite sure when they’d made it to the living room, their lips still against each others.

y/n was sat on his lap, his hands holding her by the waist, grounding her almost, as their lips moved against each others in a soft, rhythmic pattern.

jaafar’s lashes fluttered against his cheek every time she moved against him.

his tongue moved gently against hers, his teeth tugging on her bottom lip as she held onto him, her hands moving over his body, down his chest, squeezing his shoulders.

y/n broke away for breath, his lips dropping down her jaw, her neck, her collarbone - almost reverent.

that was when it hit her.

“jaafar,” y/n said, her hands on his shoulder, his lips still dragging down the side of her neck.

“hmm?” he mumbled, half listening, half not, engrossed in the event of her sweet perfume filling his nose.

“the cake,” she jumped up off his lap, both of them rushing to the oven.

she grabbed the oven globe, yanking the door open as smoke poured out, jaafar’s hands on her shoulders to move her away as she coughed.

“it’s not too bad, angel,” he peered at the top of the cake - it wasn’t burnt, maybe a little…over-cooked.

y/n peered at the cake, her face contorted in a grimace as he took it out with the other glove, setting it down on the counter.

“maybe we need to stay away from the kitchen,” they both stared at their creation for a few seconds. sure, it was edible but…did they want to eat it?

“frosting, maybe?” y/n suggested weakly, her eyes lighting up again, “oh! we can add ribbons and that cute icing thing i saw-,”

“maybe,” jaafar cut her off, “we should just stick to leaving the cake how it is, angel,” a little smile eased onto his featured as he sunk a knife into the spongy cake.

“bon appetit?” jaafar offered weakly, the slightly solid slice of cake separating from the crumbly mess of their cake. not even cute little ribbons could save this one.

“i think we should just finish what we were doing instead,” y/n said, her lashes fluttering against her cheek as he set the knife down.

gladly.

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