Cooking Mama || Ibuki & Marlin
@ibukimura
Marlin hadn’t forgotten about his dinner demand. Not by a longshot. So, one Friday night - where he’d purposely scheduled Ibuki off work - Marlin considered his phone in his hand.
Had things changed since he kissed him? Was he supposed to be sweet with him now? Popuri’s texts were always filled with hearts and emojis, and the few beaming selfies she’d sent him were treasured more than he was willing to admit. Should Marlin...?
Nah.
He sent a deeply authentic text, then went to the bathroom to shave.
[TXT] Hey, little shit, you’ve got five minutes to figure out what you’re cooking me for dinner. I’m bringing the wine.
Five minutes was all Ibuki had. Four minutes and fifty-nine seconds later, Marlin was on his front porch, bottle of wine in hand, letting himself in. “It’d better be ready,” he drawled.
















