#I have been told I should open my own bakery | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bradshawsbaby · 3 months

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Sprinkles of Love

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: It's Bob's birthday and you want to do something special for him. The problem is that you've only been on two dates, and you can't get out of your head about making that first move.

Word Count: 6.6k

Author’s Note: Happy Birthday to my #1 Guy, Lewis Pullman! I thought we all deserved some sweet Bob fluff to celebrate!

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, featuring the jitters and nervousness that comes with a new relationship.

You glanced at your phone for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, your fingers itching to reach for it where it sat taunting you on the counter near the cash register.

Biting down on your lower lip, you peeked surreptitiously over your shoulder before finally picking it up, your finger hovering hesitantly over the green messages icon.

“Are you finally going to text him or are you just going to keep staring longingly at your phone all day?”

Your cousin’s teasing voice startled you, pulling you out of your silent reverie as you fumbled the phone, nearly dropping it to the floor in your haste to get a grip on it and shove it inside your apron pocket.

Alexandria just laughed in response, her dark eyes sparkling as she slid a tray of freshly baked oatmeal raisin cookies onto one of the display case shelves. Normally, you would have complimented her on how amazing they smelled, but given the knowing smirk she was sending your way, you stuck your tongue out at her instead.

“Stick your tongue out at me all you want,” she told you, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “But I know you, and I know how badly you want to text him. So why don’t you just do it already and save yourself all the torment?”

“Lexie,” you groaned, your phone suddenly feeling like a rock inside your pocket. Why did your cousin have to know you like the back of her hand?

You were saved from having to elaborate, however, when one of the timers dinged in the kitchen, signaling that the newest batch of muffins you and Lex had put in a little while ago was finished. She shot a pointed look in your direction, making it clear the conversation wasn’t over, before turning on her heel and going to take the muffins out of the oven.

Since it was the usual mid-morning lull and the only customers currently inside the bakery were a college student working on her laptop near the window and two elderly ladies enjoying conversation over scones and tea, you figured you should be both a good cousin and a good employee and go help Lexie in the back.

Despite the fact that you had already been working at the bakery for a few months now—ever since you had moved to San Diego—you still couldn’t help but be blown away whenever it hit you that your cousin had really accomplished the dream she’d been chasing since you were little girls. For as long as you could remember, Alexandria had been wanting to open up her very own bakery, a cozy little spot where people could come to read, hang out, and relax, all while enjoying some homemade treats and delicious coffee. It seemed like just yesterday that the two of you were playing with her Easy-Bake Oven, and now here she was—living the dream as a successful small business owner. You couldn’t have been more proud of her. Or more grateful that she’d given you both a job and a place to live when you’d decided to follow in her footsteps and make the move out to California.

Lex was like the big sister you never had. She gave the best advice and she knew you inside and out. Which was normally a good thing, but judging by the way she was looking at you from under her dark lashes, you knew today was going to be one of those days where she insisted on pushing you out of your comfort zone.

You sighed in exasperation as you helped her set the freshly baked orange cranberry muffins—a favorite among her loyal customers—on the cooling rack. “I wish I hadn’t even mentioned it. It’s not that big of a deal,” you insisted, supremely conscious of the weight of your phone pressing against your thigh as you worked.

“If it’s not that big of a deal, then why do you seem to be making it one?” Lexie replied with that razor-sharp wit of hers, winking when you shot her a dirty look over your shoulder.

“I’m not!” you insisted, although you knew that was a complete and total lie. You were being ridiculous and you knew it, but every time you even thought about sending him a message, your heart started pounding inside your chest and your palms got all gross and clammy.

Lex crossed her arms over her chest, throwing an exasperated look heavenward. “Babe, you’ve already been on two dates with him and he wants to take you out on another. Do you seriously think you’re going to send him running for the hills if you send him a text wishing him a happy birthday?”

When you heard it out loud, it did sound pretty stupid. He was such a great guy, so sweet and attentive and caring, and he had done nothing to indicate that he was losing interest or that he would be freaked out by such a simple message. But still…

“I do want to text him,” you confessed, biting your lip as you carried the empty muffin tray over to the large sink where your cousin washed all her baking supplies.

“So what’s holding you back?” Lexie asked, her voice gentler this time as she leaned her hip against the counter, clearly trying to understand. She’d seen your heart get broken enough times to know that you were much more cautious now when it came to entrusting it to other people.

You sighed softly, fiddling with the strings on your pink-and-white striped apron as you tried to put your feelings into words. “It’s just—we’ve only been on two dates. I mean, they were really amazing dates, but still. Only two. And our birthdays only came up once in passing on our first date. He never mentioned it again, even when he called the other night to ask me if I’d like to go out this weekend. So on the one hand, I do want to text him to wish him a happy birthday, but on the other hand, what if it weirds him out that I remembered? What if he thinks I’m some kind of obsessive stalker and gets the ick and then ghosts me?”

“For wishing him a happy birthday?” your cousin questioned skeptically, her eyebrows rising until they were practically touching the edges of her blunt bangs.

“I’ve been ghosted before for less,” you muttered in embarrassment, knowing that your love life was a disaster compared to your cousin, who had been with her soon-to-be-husband since high school.

Lex softened immediately, stepping beside you and wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders. “I know,” she murmured soothingly, rubbing your arm with a gentle hand. “But those guys were jerks who didn’t deserve you. From everything I know about this guy, he sounds so great. He seems like the kind of guy who would be happy that you remembered his birthday.”

Honestly, you couldn’t argue with her there.

Bob Floyd was unlike any man you’d ever met before. He was everything you’d ever hoped to find but had feared you never would, the kind of perfect that seemed too good to be true, the gentleman that you had thought existed only in fairytales.

It had been over a month now since he’d stepped off a storybook page and walked into your life.

You could still remember that afternoon so clearly. It was a Saturday, and the bakery had been surprisingly dead. Lexie had decided to run to the bank, leaving you in charge of things in her absence. You’d been rearranging some of the pastries in the display case when the bell over the front door chimed, signaling a customer.

Stepping up to the counter, the words of greeting died in your throat when one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen in your life approached, a shy smile stretching across his face.

“Hi,” he greeted you in a soft-spoken voice, shoving his hands into his pockets. He was dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, and yet you’d never seen a guy look better.

“Hi,” you echoed, your eyes widening as you got lost in a gaze as blue as the cornflowers that grew in your grandparents’ backyard.

The two of you just stared at each other for a couple minutes, neither of you saying anything, even as the air between you seemed to spark and hum with electricity.

“Um, I was, uh, hoping that you still had some cupcakes left. I know it’s a little later in the day and my neighbor who recommended this place said that you should always get here early, but, um, I have a little barbeque that I’m going to and I wanted to bring some dessert. I’m hopeless at making anything myself,” he rambled, his eyes crinkling as he laughed somewhat nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

It was only when he cleared his throat awkwardly a moment later that you realized you hadn’t yet responded to him.

“Oh! Cupcakes!” you exclaimed, your voice coming out a little louder and squeakier than you had intended. “Of course!” Running your hands down the front of your apron, you shook your head slightly to try to knock some sense into it. You walked over to the display case, indicating that he should come take a look. “Normally we’d already be sold out of a lot of these, but it’s been quieter today than usual, so we still have plenty left. I guess it’s your lucky day.”

“Seems like it,” he smiled, his blue eyes latching onto your face.

Something about the way he said it made your insides feel as gooey as the batter Lexie used to make her double chocolate fudge cake.

“How many cupcakes do you need?” you asked, working overtime to keep from getting flustered.

“I think two dozen should be fine,” he replied, his eyes roaming over the display case shelves. “Hmm, they all look so good, I wouldn’t know where to start. Do you have any recommendations?”

“The lemon zest cupcakes are really popular. So are the red velvet and the coconut cloud. Oh, and the German chocolate.” You laughed sheepishly. “Honestly, they’re all really good.”

He laughed in response, a small dimple appearing in his cheek that only further endeared him to you. “Which one is your favorite?” he asked, his voice so earnest it made your chest ache.

You didn’t even have to think about it. “The funfetti,” you told him, indicating the vanilla cupcakes baked with rainbow chips and topped with swirls of vanilla frosting and an extra dash of sprinkles.

“I’ll take a dozen funfetti cupcakes then. And you can surprise me with the other dozen,” he grinned, making you smile.

“I hope you and everyone at the barbeque enjoys,” you said after you finished ringing him up, sliding the two boxes of cupcakes towards him.

“I’m sure we will. This place comes highly recommended,” he replied with a smile. “Are you Lexie, the owner?”

“No, no, I’m her cousin,” you explained, introducing yourself by name.

“I’m Robert Floyd,” he said, holding out his hand to you. “But everyone calls me Bob.”

“Very nice to meet you, Bob,” you beamed, sliding your hand into his and shaking firmly. His hand was large and warm and calloused and it felt like yours had been made to fit inside it.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he murmured softly, holding onto your hand for another second or two before slowly releasing it. He was quiet for a moment, then added, “I’m sure I’ll be back again soon.”

“We serve really good coffee,” you said suddenly, desperate to find a reason to get him to come back. “And we open really early. You know, if you want to get some on your way to work.”

Bob’s beautiful blue eyes twinkled behind his glasses. “I’ll be sure to do that. Thank you.” He picked up his boxes of cupcakes and turned towards the door. Before he left, he shot you one last smile that melted your insides. “See you around.”

After that, Bob Floyd had found plenty of reasons to stop by the bakery. The following Monday, he’d stopped by in the morning to grab coffee for him and his friends on his way to work. That was when you’d learned that he was a naval aviator stationed at North Island.

“You were right about those funfetti cupcakes,” he told you, patting his stomach with a grin. “I think I ate about half the box before I thought to share them with anyone else.”

Your eyes crinkled and you felt your skin grow warm as you smiled in response. “Good, I’m so glad.”

You made sure to slip a cupcake in with all his coffee orders, a gesture which he didn’t fail to notice, judging from the extra large tip he left in the jar.

“See you soon,” he smiled, balancing all that coffee in his large hands as he backed out of the bakery.

From then on, he was there practically every day, stopping in for coffee or for some cupcakes after work. He often picked up things for other people—his friends or his neighbor who had recommended the bakery to him. But for himself, he always stuck with the funfetti cupcakes.

“I know I should branch out and try something new,” he told you one day through a mouthful of sprinkles. “But I can’t help it—these are just so good.”

It had taken nearly two weeks for Bob to work up the nerve to finally ask you if you might be interested in getting dinner with him sometime. You’d had to bite your tongue to keep from immediately screaming, “YES!” in his face,

The two of you spent your first date at a gorgeous little seafood restaurant right on the water, and then went for a long walk on the beach afterwards. It was truly the best date you’d ever been on. Bob was a perfect gentleman, attentively listening to everything you had to say and making you feel as though he actually cared about what was important to you. He’d even draped his jacket over your shoulders as you walked by the water, noticing the way you were shivering slightly in the dress you’d worn. You had been hoping he would kiss you at the end of the night, but like the gentleman that he was, he’d simply brushed your cheek with his lips, asking in a hushed voice if you’d like to see him again.

You wanted that very much.

On your second date, Bob took you mini golfing, something you’d told him that you hadn’t done since you were a little girl. You didn’t think you’d ever laughed so much as you did that night, no matter how terrible you turned out to be at miniature golf. Just like on your first date, Bob walked you to your door at the end of the night, his hand resting on the small of your back as you turned to look up at him, your eyes begging him to give you a proper kiss goodnight.

He had to duck his head slightly as he leaned in closer, a lock of his honey-colored hair draping across his forehead as his gaze latched onto yours, your breath mingling as the two of you inched closer and closer.

It was a soft kiss, sweet and chaste. His lips just barely brushed against yours, sending a shock of electric currents up and down your spine. When he pulled back, the both of you were flushed and stammering.

“C-can I call you tomorrow?” he asked, still so shy even after two dates.

“I hope you do,” you whispered with a smile, squeezing his hand before slipping through your front door.

Faithful to his word, Bob had called you the next day. The two of you were supposed to be going out again this weekend.

But that brought you back to your current dilemma—his birthday. You knew you were being stupid about this. Texting him for his birthday wasn’t tantamount to a marriage proposal. It wasn’t like you were trying to throw him a surprise party or invite yourself over for cake. It was a text message for crying out loud. And even though it had only come up once, he had told you when his birthday was. It wasn’t like you had gone to North Island and asked to see his personnel file.

The truth was, you were just terrified of screwing things up. You’d gone on plenty of dates with guys who had seemed really nice, who you had really thought were into you, only to be ghosted or flat-out rejected. Deep down inside, you knew that Bob was different from all those other guys, but still—the thought of sending him running made your stomach twist into knots.

“Babe, you know what I’m going to say,” Lexie murmured, your cousin’s voice pulling you out of all your convoluted thoughts. “If you never take a risk, then nothing’s ever going to change. I know you’re nervous, but just go for it. The worst that happens—seriously, the worst case scenario—is that he ghosts you. But you know what? If he does that, then he wasn’t worth your time anyway. And if he doesn’t? Well, maybe he’ll start to fall even harder for the gorgeous girl who remembered his birthday.” She grinned, wrapping both arms around you and pulling you in for a tight hug.

“Ugh, why do you always have to be right?” you grinned ruefully, pulling back from your cousin’s embrace and fiddling nervously with the scrunchie on your wrist.

“It’s a gift,” she replied with a wink, turning to look over her shoulder when the bell over the front door chimed. “I’ve got it,” she told you, squeezing your arm before heading back out to the front.

That left you alone in the back kitchen, your phone burning a hole in your apron pocket and your heart hammering inside your chest.

“Okay, don’t be an idiot,” you murmured to yourself. As far as pep talks went, it was far from the most inspirational, but it did the job as you pulled your phone out. “It’s not too much too soon. It’s just a text,” you breathed out. “It’s just a text.”

Opening your messages, you found Bob’s name—he was right near the top after texting you just yesterday—and opened up your conversation thread, chewing on your bottom lip.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you tapped out a quick message that you hoped was short, sweet, and to the point and hit send.

Happy Birthday, Bob! I hope you have a wonderful day! 🥳🎉

You felt hot all over as you shoved your phone back into your pocket, your pulse stuttering in your veins as you wondered how long it would take him to see it. From what he had told you about his job, he often spent hours in the air each day, so chances were good he didn’t even have his phone on him right now.

You weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and determined not to think about it. A task that was much easier said than done. But as you walked back out into the main part of the bakery, you found that a small crowd had formed, so you jumped into assisting your cousin behind the counter.

“Well?” Lexie asked under her breath as you helped her fill a couple boxes with a dozen cinnamon chip muffins.

“I sent it,” you murmured in reply, purposely avoiding her direct gaze. “But I haven’t heard anything back yet.”

As much as you had tried not to, you’d been compulsively checking your phone every five minutes.

Lex shrugged and waved it off. “It’s still early yet,” she said confidently, carrying the boxes over to the patiently waiting customer.

You threw yourself into various tasks around the bakery, anything that would keep your mind off your phone. You restocked the shelves in the display cases, organized the money in the cash register, wiped down the counters in the kitchen, scrubbed the baking pans, frosted cupcakes, replaced the coffee beans, and waited on any customers who walked in.

A couple of times, your phone buzzed in your pocket and your heart jumped into your throat, only to sink down to your stomach when you pulled it out and found that it was just an email notification or a text from your mom.

The longer you went without hearing from Bob, the harder you had to work to convince yourself that he wasn’t ignoring you.

No. He wasn’t ignoring you. Bob wasn’t like that. You were sure of it.

It was a little after noon, just when you’d taken a cup of coffee into the back for a short break, when you felt your phone buzz again, vibrating against your thigh through your apron. Swallowing nervously, you put your coffee down and reached into your pocket, a small gasp escaping you when you saw Bob’s name on the screen.

You could scarcely unlock your phone fast enough, opening up the text thread to read his reply.

Wow, you remembered! That means so much to me. Thank you! ☺️ Sorry it took me a little while to respond—we were doing some test flights, but I’m on my lunch break now and I’ll be on the ground for the rest of the day. How are you?

It took every ounce of self-restraint you had not to scream and jump up and down like a little girl. It felt like a boulder had been lifted off your shoulders. You hadn’t freaked him out! He hadn’t ghosted you! It was just like Lexie said—he was happy that you remembered.

Grinning like a fool, you leaned against the counter and typed out a response, not caring that your coffee was getting cold.

I’m doing great! Glad to hear you got some flying in on your special day ✈️ Doing anything to celebrate?

It was only after you had sent the message that you began to fret that it sounded like you were being nosy about his plans, or worse, trying to insert yourself into them.

But then Bob responded a minute later and put your worries to rest.

Nothing too fancy. My friends ordered lunch and got me a cake. They sang “Happy Birthday,” too, even though I begged them not to lol. I usually keep it pretty lowkey on my birthday.

You smiled as you wrote back, Was it a funfetti cake?

His next response came in no time at all, and it made your stomach flutter to imagine that he was focusing entirely on you and your conversation during his lunch break.

If only! It was really good, but I don’t think anything compares to those funfetti cupcakes 😋

At that moment, Lex walked into the back, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw the huge smile plastered on your face. It felt like it was going to get permanently stuck there.

“Well, well, well,” she grinned, sidling up next to you. “Should I take that glowing smile to mean you finally heard back from your lieutenant?”

You ducked your head shyly, your cheeks growing warm. “He isn’t my lieutenant,” you insisted.

“Mhm, sure,” your cousin grinned, laughing loudly when you nudged her in the side. “So it worked out after all? He didn’t say you were a freaky stalker? I shouldn’t be expecting the police to burst down the door any minute?”

“Okay, okay,” you groaned, realizing how ridiculous you’d been behaving that morning. “You were right. It all worked out. He was very touched that I remembered his birthday,” you murmured, sheepishly scuffing your sneaker against the floor.

“I’ve gotta say it—told you so,” Lex smirked victoriously, wrapping her arms around you and planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, feigning annoyance even as you grinned and returned your cousin’s hug. “You know, Bob was actually just texting me that his friends at work got him a cake, but that it just doesn’t compare to your funfetti cupcakes,” you told her with a proud smile.

“What can I say? They are pretty damn delicious,” she winked, her chest puffing up with pride. A sudden thought struck her as she looked at you. “Hey, what time does Bob get off from work?”

“I’m not sure exactly. Usually around six or seven, I think,” you told her, your brow wrinkling in confusion. “Why?”

“Hmm, perfect,” Lexie mused, tapping her chin as she glanced over her shoulder.

“What do you mean?” you asked, arching an eyebrow. Your older cousin was always plotting something.

“I mean that the bakery closes at five-thirty,” she said, as if you weren’t already well aware of that fact. When she realized that you weren’t exactly catching her drift, she went on, “Which means you could invite Bob over for a little after hours birthday treat if you’d like,” she grinned.

“Lex!” you gasped, scandalized.

Your cousin threw her head back laughing. “I didn’t mean that you should jump his bones in the middle of the bakery! I’d actually prefer it if you didn’t do that,” she chuckled teasingly. “I just meant you could surprise him with something sweet, on the house. Something we make here,” she added with a pointed look that made your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment.

“Oh,” you mumbled, nodding your head slowly. “Right. Of course.” You cleared your throat slightly. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not! Anyone who makes my cousin this happy is welcome to free cupcakes anytime,” Lex said firmly, cupping your face in her hands and beaming at you.

“You’re the best,” you told her, throwing your arms around her and squeezing her in a tight hug. “I’ll text Bob now and see if he thinks he’ll be up for it.”

“If you’re the one asking, I’m sure he will be,” she winked, nudging you playfully before turning to go back to the front counter.

Once she was out of sight, you turned your attention back to your phone and bit your lip, trying to think of the best way to phrase what you wanted to ask him.

Speaking of funfetti cupcakes, any chance you’d want to swing by the bakery on your way home from work? We close at 5:30 today, but we make special after hours exceptions for our best customers 😉🧁

Was that stupid? That probably sounded stupid. Would he think that you were suggesting a quickie on the bakery floor the way you thought your cousin had been suggesting? Oh God, could you unsend that message before he got it?

I would love to! Is 6:45 too late?

This man didn’t cease to amaze you.

No, that’s perfect!

See you then ☺️

You tried your hardest to smother the smile that was threatening to completely overtake your face, but you couldn’t do it. This man gave you butterflies like you’d never experienced before in all your life, and the thought of getting to see him in just a few hours made you feel like you were going to burst from excitement and anticipation.

You didn’t even have to tell Lexie what Bob had said. The second she saw your face, she just smiled knowingly and told you, “I’ll be out of here by six.”

Time had never seemed to move so slowly as it did that day while you waited for closing time to finally come around. Lex observed your growing impatience with amusement, giving you as many odd jobs as she could to hopefully make the minutes go faster.

When the clock finally chimed five-thirty, you practically sprinted towards the door, locking it and flipping the closed sign around to ward off anyone who might have tried to stop by for a last minute treat.

“Good thing business is so good or I might get mad at you for scaring off customers,” Lexie teased.

True to her word, your cousin helped you clean up and then was heading out the door by six o’clock.

“Have so much fun,” she told you, blowing you a quick succession of air kisses. “And tell Bob happy birthday from me,” she added with a wink before slipping out the door.

With your cousin gone, that left you about forty-five minutes to finish getting ready before Bob arrived. You quickly set a playlist of classic 60s tunes to play softly through the speakers—you and Bob had discovered you had a similar taste in music about halfway through your first date—and then hurried into the bathroom to fix up your hair and apply a little bit of make-up. You usually didn’t bother with much when you were working, but you wanted to look nice for Bob.

Once you were done getting ready, you went into the back to get his little birthday treat set up—Lexie had made a fresh batch of funfetti cupcakes towards the end of the day just for the occasion. You had just finished placing one of the cupcakes on a small plate with a lace doily and inserting a candle into it when you heard a faint knock on the front door.

Your heart rate immediately began climbing as you ran your hands over the T-shirt and jeans you’d worn today, hoping you looked halfway presentable. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, you stepped out into the main part of the bakery and felt your legs instantly turn to Jell-O at the sight of Bob standing at the door, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. You’d only told him once in passing how much you loved them, and he had remembered.

Wow, that really did mean a lot.

“Hi,” you greeted him, standing in the open doorway and beaming up at him.

“Hi,” he echoed, that little dimple making an appearance as he smiled down at you. After a beat, he seemed to suddenly remember that he was holding the flowers in his hand. “Oh, these are for you,” he said, holding them out shyly.

“They’re beautiful, Bob,” you breathed out softly, accepting them with a smile and pressing them to your nose. “My favorite. You remembered.”

“Just like you remembered my birthday,” he said, his blue eyes sparkling with an emotion you couldn’t quite name, but which you knew you felt just as much as he did.

The two of you stood there like that for a few moments, just gazing into each other’s eyes and smiling dreamily. Then you came to your senses.

“Come in, come in,” you told him, stepping out of the doorway so that he could enter and then closing the door behind him. “Gosh, these really are such beautiful flowers. That was so sweet of you. You didn’t have to get me anything. It is your birthday, after all,” you said, guiding him to a table in the center of the room.

“I wanted to,” Bob replied, taking a seat. He was still in his flight suit and he looked so handsome. “I’m happy that they made you smile.”

“It’s hard not to smile when I’m around you,” you told him, the words slipping out of your mouth before you could think twice about them. Your cheeks grew warm when you realized how vulnerable they were, and you buried your face in the bouquet once more.

Bob’s cheeks had grown rosy as well, and you noticed that his leg was bouncing nervously underneath the table. “I feel the same way,” he murmured softly.

You could have thrown your arms around him and kissed him right then and there, but then you recalled the actual reason why you had invited him over.

“I have a surprise for you,” you said suddenly, smiling brightly as you laid the bouquet of flowers down on the counter. “Wait right here and close your eyes,” you told him, waiting until he had done so before hurrying into the back and lighting the candle you’d tucked into his cupcake.

When you stepped back into the main room on quiet feet, you found that Bob was still patiently sitting with his eyes closed. Your heart swelled with deep affection—and was it possible something even deeper? You had never met anyone like him and you were certain you never would again.

It was at that moment that you realized “Be My Baby” by The Ronettes was currently playing through the speakers, as apropos a sign as you could imagine.

You cleared your throat slightly as you approached the table, the candle sparkling in front of your face as you brought it closer to the birthday boy.

“I know you said you weren’t a big fan of being serenaded with ‘Happy Birthday,’ so I’ll spare you my vocals,” you teased, setting the plate down in front of him. “But Happy Birthday, Bob.”

Opening his eyes, Bob glanced from your face down to the cupcake and then back up to you again. He seemed at a loss for words, his eyes growing wide behind his glasses.

“This is—this—thank you,” Bob finally said, his voice sounding a bit hoarse. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

You smiled, sitting down beside him and gently resting your hand over his. “Blow out your candle before it melts into your cupcake,” you giggled.

He grinned at the sound of your laughter, leaning in closer to blow out the single candle, though he kept his eyes fixed on you the whole time.

“Lexie baked them fresh this afternoon. There’s a whole bunch more in the back that I’m going to be sending you home with,” you told him, your heart skipping a beat at the way his face lit up.

“What did I do to deserve all this? This is the best birthday present ever,” Bob chuckled, wrapping his fingers around yours and squeezing lightly.

“I’m glad you think so,” you murmured, glancing down at the table shyly. “The truth is, I was a little nervous to text you earlier.”

Bob looked surprised at your admission. “Why?” he asked, astonished.

You bit your lip and hesitated, but then decided to be honest. Like Lexie said, if you never took a risk, then you never got to see anything change. “I know this is going to sound so stupid, but I was worried you would think it was too much if I texted you for your birthday.”

“Too much?” he repeated, his brow crinkling in obvious confusion.

“You know, just because you had only mentioned your birthday once. I thought maybe I would seem too desperate or clingy or something if I reached out. I thought it would freak you out,” you confessed. “I know that sounds pretty dumb when I say it out loud.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Bob assured you, shaking his head slowly. “I know what you mean. To be honest, I think I’ve had that problem myself. Y’know, coming off too eager and scaring girls away,” he admitted, blushing as he ducked his head.

“Oh, Bob,” you murmured in understanding, lacing your fingers through his. With all the other things you two had in common, it shouldn’t have surprised you that a crappy dating history was something else you shared. “You could never scare me off,” you promised him.

Lifting his head, he smiled at you and reached out slowly, his fingertips stirring a few wisps of your hair as he brushed your cheek lightly. “And you could never freak me out. It meant so much to me that you remembered my birthday. It made my whole day, in fact. Even more than the funfetti cupcakes,” he said, his eyes crinkling. He was quiet for a moment, thoughtful, then added softly, “I remember everything about you.”

“You do?” you whispered, feeling a sudden surge of emotion well up in your throat.

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Your favorite movies, the fact that you like tomatoes but hate ketchup, the way you throw your head back when you laugh really loudly. Your favorite flowers. I remember it all.”

“Bob,” you breathed out, the tears brimming in your eyes as your gaze dropped from his eyes down to his mouth.

You weren’t really sure who moved first, but soon enough, Bob was holding you in his arms, your lips pressed together in a kiss that was much less chaste than your first one, but just as sweet. Your arms snaked around his neck, one hand burying itself in his soft hair, the other resting on the nape of his neck. He let out a soft groan in response, one of his large hands resting on your hip and the other splaying across your back, holding you close.

It was a kiss that was so much like Bob himself—gentle, kind, tender, sweet, affectionate, attentive. He didn’t demand more than you were willing to give, he didn’t try to take anything from you. He just wanted to make you feel how much he cared about you, wanted to make you feel special and cherished. And he did. You hoped more than anything that you were doing the same for him.

Because the truth was that you were already falling for Bob Floyd, and falling hard.

When the two of you finally pulled back—a mutually hesitant parting borne solely of the need for oxygen—you smiled breathlessly, closing your eyes as Bob rested his forehead against yours.

“Okay, maybe that was the best birthday present ever,” he chuckled quietly, his lips brushing against your temple.

“I think so, too, and it’s not even my birthday,” you grinned, resting your head against his shoulder. “Are you going to have your cupcake?” you asked, glancing down at where it sat on the plate, still untouched.

“Mhm,” Bob nodded, wrapping an arm around you and brushing his fingers up and down your arm. “But there actually is something I’d like to ask you first,” he said, suddenly sounding nervous.

Lifting your head, you looked up at him, trying to figure out why he suddenly looked so flustered.

“Of course. What is it?” you questioned, resting a hand on his arm.

“Well, all of this has been amazing,” he began, pushing his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. You had noticed they had a tendency to slide down when he was particularly nervous. “But there actually is one more thing that I’d really like for my birthday this year.”

You raised your eyebrows curiously. “What is it?”

Bob swallowed deeply and then looked directly into your eyes. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your lips parted as a little gasp of delighted surprise escaped you. It may have been Bob’s birthday, but it felt like you were the one being showered with gifts today.

“Oh, Bob, yes! Yes!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him and pressing another kiss to his lips.

“Yes?” Bob repeated between kisses, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Yes,” you told him seriously, cupping his cheek in your hand. “Nothing would make me happier.”

“Oh, darlin’,” he breathed out, the term of endearment falling easily off his tongue in that adorable midwestern accent of his. He pulled you into his arms once more and kissed you soundly.

You giggled softly as you reached for the funfetti cupcake and removed the candle, holding it up for him to take a bite. “Happy Birthday, Bob.”

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman

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britany1997 · 1 year

Note

Hi! I saw that requests were open, and I was hoping I could requests Poly!Lost boys (or/and with Michael if you can!) with a reader who’s owns a bakery? The boys take notice of a new shop on the boardwalk and peek in to see you.

(Reader is GN, and likes to dress cutesy as well!)

If You Give A Vampire A Cookie…

AHHHHH Michael my love🥺 yes of course I can write this for you💕💕 hope you like it!

Poly! Lost boys & Michael x GN cutesy Reader

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

A bundle of black leather flashed down the boardwalk as Paul zoomed around. Marko was on his heels, laughing and trailing after him, “I told you we should have put him on one of those animal backpack leashes,” Marko called back at Dwayne as Dwayne followed the two blonds.

“If he doesn’t behave he’ll find himself on a different kind of leash.” Dwayne warned.

“Ooh Paul, hear that? you’re in trouble,” Marko singsonged.

“Yeah jokes on you Dwayne, I like that shit!” Paul yelled back as he ran.

Dwayne groaned.

David smirked as he watched Dwayne attempt to control the chaos twins on his own. David much preferred to hang back, his hand possessively wrapped around Michael’s neck as the two strolled along the boardwalk.

“Stay close pet, don’t want you running off like those two,” David cooed at Michael.

Michael rolled his eyes and slithered out of David’s grip, “I’m not a child David, I think I can manage myself on the boardwalk,” he paused, “and I’m not your pet either.”

David chuckled to himself, “whatever you wanna tell yourself love,” he said as he slid his arm around Michael’s waist, pulling him against his side.

He leaned in to whisper in Michael’s ear, “but I know you don’t mind what I call you when we’re at home. Maybe you’re just a house pet huh baby?”

Michael shivered as he felt his cheeks flush pink

“Stop it,” he whispered back nervously.

David pouted in reply, “thought you liked it when i played with you pretty boy.”

Michael’s blush deepened, “can’t you keep it in your pants till we get home?”

David smirked, “what can I say, you’re irresistible.”

Michael smiled softly as David leaned in.

“HEY GUYS,” Paul’s booming voice broke the pair away from their sweet moment.

“This better be good,” David grumbled.

Paul tapped his foot as he waited for the others to catch up.

Marko and Dwayne slowed to a stop in front of the blond boy, David and Michael not far behind. They looked curiously as Paul gestured to a little white shop they’d never seen before.

As the other four boys took in the sight, Paul pressed his face up against the giant window at the front of the store. He admired the pretty cakes, beautifully frosted and decorated with plastic floral arrangements. He drooled over the warm brownies wrapped in cellophane and tied with pink bows. But his eyes widened when he caught sight of the rows and rows of cookies displayed in a tray behind the glass. He’d swear he could already taste them.

He turned back to his boyfriends, “please, please, please can we go in and get something? I’ve been so good lately!” he begged.

Dwayne scoffed, “no you haven’t.”

Paul dropped to his knees and inched towards Dwayne, his hands clasped together, “please please please please,” Paul chanted, giving Dwayne his best puppy dog eyes, those always seemed to make him cave.

Dwayne sighed as Marko bit his thumb to keep from laughing. “David, what do you think? We got time before morning?”

David checked his watch, his arm still around Michael’s waist, “yeah we got time.”

“Yes!” Paul whisper-cheered to himself.

“Not so fast blondie,” David raised an eyebrow, “you got bakery money?”

Paul’s demeanor deflated as he looked through his shoe and cringed. “Michael?” he asked sweetly.

Michael rolled his eyes but smiled, “yes Paul?”

Paul pouted at Michael, jutting his bottom lip out and furrowing his brows.

Michael laughed, “ok fine,” he walked over to hand Paul a five dollar bill.

Paul sprang up and wrapped his arms around Michael, kissing him squarely on the mouth.

“I love you Michael!” Paul exclaimed as he pulled away.

Michael smiled and blushed, “I love you too Paul.”

Paul smiled and skipped into the store, Michael’s five dollars in hand, while David crossed his arms and grumbled.

Dwayne bumped David with his elbow as Marko and Michael slipped through the door. “C’mon, they need constant supervision,” he reminded David.

“Been tryna kiss him all night but nooo crazy blond shakes him down and he gets a smooch. Bullshit.” David mumbled under his breath as he followed Dwayne inside.

As David passed through the doorway his jaw dropped.

Michael, Marko, and Paul were already crowded around the counter talking to the most attractive human he’d ever seen (besides Michael of course).

You were wearing the palest pink uniform, and the brightest smile. He found himself absolutely transfixed.

As he approached his circle of boyfriends, he heard Paul’s persistent flirting.

“All these snacks baby but you gotta be the sweetest thing in here,” Paul winked, leaning over the counter.

You blushed, “that’s so kind of you to say, can I get you anything?”

“Yeah honey, give me three sugar cookies, I’m not real liquid right now…” he said as he hid the fiver in his back pocket, “you take kisses?”

You smirked and laughed, “I take money.”

He mock-pouted, “that’s ok sugar, I was gonna give ‘em to you for free anyway.”

Paul leaned in, but was caught by the back of the collar by Michael. “Sorry about him,” he said blushing.

Michael swiped the money from Paul’s back pocket and handed it to you, “for the sugar cookies,” he said, flustered.

“I’ll bring them right out,” you smiled.

Michael sighed wistfully as he watched you turn to grab the cookies from the back.

“What the hell man?” Paul asked, “I was about to seal the deal!”

“Paul,” Dwayne interjected, “what did we say about kissing strangers?”

“It’s fun?” Paul guessed.

“Don’t do it.” Dwayne and Michael corrected at the same time.

Paul pouted.

You pushed past the double doors, your arms filled with sweets.

“You all are the first customers I’ve had since I opened so I threw in a couple extra things,” you blushed.

You handed Paul the three sugar cookies, leaning over the counter to kiss his cheek.

He flashed you a dopey smile as his hand flew to his cheek. “I’ll never wash this cheek again,” he sighed.

You giggled, “I sure hope that’s not true, you’d think you’d wanna keep a pretty face like that clean.”

It was taking all of Paul’s self-control not to jump over the counter and shower you with sloppy wet kisses.

You turned to Marko handing him a Sfogliatella. His eyes widened in shock, “I love Sfogliatella! I haven’t been able to find them anywhere,” he told you.

“My grandma’s recipe,” you smiled, “I love them too, I haven’t really seen ‘em anywhere in the U.S., so why not make them myself.”

Marko melted.

You looked at Dwayne, placing a chocolate chip cookie in his hand. “Dark chocolate chips instead of milk chocolate,” you told him.

“For a richer flavor?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“Exactly!” you beamed, “thought you’d like it.”

His lips turned up into a half-smile, “thank you, that’s so thoughtful.”

You moved to Michael and offered him a big, gooey, brownie.

He blushed as he took it from your outstretched hands, “these are my favorite, how’d you know?” he furrowed his brow in confusion.

You shrugged, “call it baker’s intuition, you strike me as a brownie guy.”

He blushed, “talk about a sixth sense,” he mumbled, “you really are the sweetest thing in here.”

Your face flushed at his words as Paul grumbled that Michael had ‘stolen his line.’

David cleared his throat, “nothin for me love?” he raked his eyes over your form.

You laughed, “you just didn’t strike me as a sweets guy,” you clarified as you poured him a cup of coffee.

When you finished, you offered him the styrofoam cup, which he took from your gratefully.

“Clever little thing aren’t you?” he flirted.

“I like to think so,” you winked.

David’s smile spread across his whole face, “well if you aren’t the cutest thing…” he trailed off as he leaned on the counter.

Dwayne cleared his throat, prompting David to check his watch. Shit. Sunrise was coming.

He frowned, “gotta get goin’ sweet but we’ll be back,” he promised, winking.

You bit your lip, “I hope so, I’m here every night.”

You blushed as each boy reluctantly pulled themselves away and strolled out the door.

You couldn’t help but think moving your business to Santa Carla was the smartest decision you’d ever made.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Taglist❤️:

@consuming-karma @misslavenderlady @ghoulgeousimmaculate @6lostgirl6 @bloodywickedvamp @pixielostboy @gothamslostboy @dwaynesluscioushair @paulxbathbomd @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @warrior-616 @anna1306 @riz-coolgirl @flower-crowned-lady @feardot-com @its-freaking-bats @solobagginses @vampirefilmlover @lostboys1987girl @cherryfrostbites

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lvrdrafts · 10 months

Text

Crumbs of Cinnamon, Shattered Hearts

Summary: You are a baker in New York who has feelings for your customer Bucky but it doesn't seem as if he feels the same

Warning: Self depriciation

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

A/N: Should i make a fluff or angst ending?

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

In the heart of New York City, there existed a quaint little bakery named "Sweet Haven," owned and operated by the young and kind-hearted Y/N. With her radiant smile and a heart as warm as the ovens in her kitchen, she had a unique way of making anyone who walked through her bakery's doors feel at ease. Sweet Haven wasn't just a bakery; it was a place of comfort and solace for those seeking refuge from the chaos of the outside world.

In the heart of New York City, there existed a quaint little bakery named "Sweet Serenity," owned and operated by the young and kind-hearted Y/N. With her radiant smile and a heart as warm as the ovens in her kitchen, she had a unique way of making anyone who walked through her bakery's doors feel at ease. Sweet Serenity wasn't just a bakery; it was a place of comfort and solace for those seeking refuge from the chaos of the outside world.

Bucky Barnes was one of her favorite costumers. It wasn't just because he came there often, but also he brought a side of you that you didn't know existed. He was the exact opposite of you and somehow you craved that in him.

As your feelings were intensified, it seemed as if everyone except you two can see what was going on. People would always make subtle remarks about you too being a "perfect pair" yet you both never caught on.

One day, your friends gathered around her as she closed up the bakery, seeing the longing in your eyes whenever Bucky was mentioned. It just felt as an instinct that every time Bucky's name was mentioned you would have a huge grin on your face. With wide smiles and excited whispers, they encouraged you to confess your feelings to him.

"Y/N, it's so obvious that he cares about you too," one of her friends said, nudging her playfully. "You've got to tell him!"

"You deserve happiness, and you bring so much joy to others. It's time you let someone do the same for you," another chimed in.

Their words resonated with you, and you realized that maybe, just maybe, your friends were right. The thought of baring your heart to Bucky filled you with nerves, but you knew you had to take the chance.

One sunny afternoon, you found herself standing outside Bucky's apartment door, clutching a box of her famous cinnamon rolls. With a deep breath, you knocked on the door, her heart pounding in her chest.

When Bucky opened the door, the sight of Y/N, with her bright smile and the sweet aroma of cinnamon rolls surrounding her, made him feel something he hadn't in a long time—hope. Little did he know that she was about to take that hope and amplify it.

"I, um, brought you some cinnamon rolls," Y/N stammered, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. "I made them fresh today. I hope you like them."

Bucky's lips quirked into a small smile, and he gratefully accepted the box. "Thank you, Y/N. I always love your cinnamon rolls."

You felt a surge of courage in you, ss if nothing can stop you. You had been practicing the whole morning and everyone had told you how great of a dynamic you two where. We're like soulmates, there is no way we are not meant to be. Bucky likes me and I like him right?

"Bucky, there's something I've been wanting to tell you. I… I really care about you. You're special to me, and I just wanted you to know that."

Bucky's eyes held a mixture of surprise and something else you couldn't quite place. "Y/N, you're an incredible person, and I care about you too. You've been a bright spot in my life since the day we met." Oh know, why is bucky saying that in a sympathetic tone. Does he not like me back ? I thought the relationship was mutual? Am I gonna end this friendship because I was stupid enough to think he likes me?

"But there's something I need to be honest about," he said, his voice tinged with regret. "I've fallen for someone else. Her name is Diana."

The weight of Bucky's words crushed your hopes, and your smile wavered for a moment. You quickly regained her composure, offering him a brave smile. You shouldn't have listen to your friends, you should have listened to your mind not your heart. Be realistic Y/N why would he like you, your not even that special.

"That's alright, Bucky. I'm happy that you found someone who makes you feel that way," you said, her voice steady despite the pain in her heart. You didn't want to cause a scene but holding back the tears seemed much more harder.

As the days went on, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you. You were happy for Bucky, knowing that he had found someone who made him feel special, but you couldn't shake the sadness that accompanied unrequited love. You felt mad at yourself for allowing your heart to fall so deeply for someone who didn't feel the same way.

The dynamic between Bucky and you had changed. While you still spent time together, there was an underlying tension that lingered beneath the surface. You were more guarded, afraid to let your true feelings slip, while Bucky seemed cautious not to lead you on. Your conversations were still filled with laughter and genuine connection, but there were moments when you both seemed lost in our own thoughts, struggling to navigate the unspoken emotions between you guys.

Avoiding him became increasingly difficult, as our apartments were next to each other. It seemed that fate was determined to test me, placing him in my path at every turn. Each time you saw him, your heart would flutter and ache simultaneously, reminding me of what you couldn't have. It was even worse when he started bringing Diana to the bakery, and you could see the love between them as if they were meant to be.

At times, Bucky would still drop by your bakery, and you would offer him a friendly smile, trying to hide the pang in my heart. You didn't want him to feel guilty or obligated to reciprocate my feelings. But it was so hard after you screwed up the friendship. You should have seen it, I mean what is special about you?

Tag list

@marygoddessofmischief @666yourmomdotcom @openup-yourmind @almosttoopizza @maddieislost @kentokaze @floralwslokicjand10 @vicmc624

#bucky x reader #bucky x reader angst #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x y/n #winter soldier x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader angs #bucky barnes x reader #james barnes x reader #james barnes x reader angst

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shxtodxroki · 4 months

Text

𝙽𝚘𝚝-𝚂𝚘-𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊

Summary: Your past friendship with Satoru Gojo is ancient history by the time you’re both well into your teaching years, the man a mere memory from your past you can’t help but reminisce on more often than you should. But when Christmas-time rolls around and you get roped into a faculty Secret Santa event alongside your sister school, your not-so-secret Santa causes old, unresolved feelings to resurface, and gives you a chance to finally rehash and truly release them.

Warnings: Swearing, some angst, this fic was written as a gift so it’s a fem reader instead of my usual gender neutral reader! There’s also a few small descriptive details of the reader’s personality/likes since it’s targeted towards the person I wrote it for, but there are NO physical descriptions of the reader! Geto, Nanami and Haibara are also all teachers in this! (Nanami and Geto work w/ Gojo in Tokyo, while Haibara works w/ reader and Utahime in Kyoto!)

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Note: This fic is a gift that I wrote for @planetnini for this JJK secret santa event! :D Hi Nini, I was your secret santa! :D I had a lot of fun getting to know you and chatting with you through asks throughout this event, and I hope you like the final fic I made for you! I tried to take into account some of the things you told me and personalize it a bit, and I’d love to know what you think! <3 Happy holidays Nini and anyone else reading this, if you celebrate any holidays around this time of year then I hope you had a wonderful time, and even if not, I hope you’re having an amazing end of the year! :D

The scent of the town-famous bakery always managed to fill you with a bittersweet sense of nostalgia, memories flooding your senses as flashes of bright blue eyes and teasing grins flashed behind your eyelids in response to the familiar scent. It makes your stomach twist in mild discomfort, pushing the fond childhood memories that spring up back into the crevices of your mind where they belong as you feel a small, long-residing pang of longing.

He had always loved sweets.

Being friends with Satoru Gojo, the honored one who took Jujutsu society by storm from the very moment he was born, was an experience you reflected back on far more often than you’d ever admit out loud. Considering how long it had been since the two of you last had any significant contact, it would seem odd to admit just how often your mind still wandered to him, to the many soft moments and bright memories you shared in adolescence, and to the one true best friendship you had ever known. People have come and gone through your life in waves since then, and you’ve had dear friends who meant the world to you, but nobody could ever come close to the role Satoru had once filled, the way he made your heart feel so full of affection and love that it just might burst. It was the kind of friendship you felt you would only find once in a lifetime, and thus the kind you could never forget. Maybe it wouldn’t sound that ludicrous after all, but you still kept this longing to yourself, and most days, you managed to dull it to a gentle simmer beneath your ribcage as you went about your days.

You have other things to focus on now. A job and your loved ones and the upkeep of your home, all essential parts of your daily life that keep you from lamenting on the mere wisps of memory of the boy you knew. Knowing that he wasn’t far away, living a life far busier than your own but in the same profession at your sister school, did come with the occasional urge to reach out, to reminisce or catch up or ask why your whole friendship had fallen apart in the first place. But you’ve always managed to resist the urge, to fight back the desire to reach out and pry yourself away from the open yet long-ago unfollowed Instagram page on your phone (though not always without help, you had to thank Utahime for keeping you from your nostalgic urges every now and then).

So with all the work you had put into moving on from a friendship you honestly should have long ago, you would admit (at least to yourself) that you were less than excited to find out that you’d be participating in a winter retreat with the sister school where Satoru now taught at. You were even less eager when it was revealed that there would be a staff-wide Secret Santa event between the two schools, and as the days counted down towards the trip, you found yourself wishing that the universe would cut you a break just this once and give you anyone else besides Satoru to buy a gift for. You knew so little about the person he was currently, now that so much time had passed between the two of you, and truthfully, you had no clue if he even remembered who you were at this point. The sting of realizing that he didn’t remember you was a pain you truly didn’t long to feel, and having to get a gift for your former best friend under such uncertain conditions was simply a fate you wished to avoid at all costs.

“Quit glaring, you’re drawing attention to you, and me by proxy.” You mutter to your best friend as she glares daggers into the back of the man you wished to avoid. Luckily for you, the interaction was anything but uncommon for the two, so it was unlikely to truly draw attention to either of you. Yet it still wasn’t a risk you wanted to take, not wanting to face even the slightest possibility of being forced to suffer through awkward small talk with the man who had once known all your deepest secrets.

“How did that idiot manage to become a teacher? His students would be better off with a fucking rock as an instructor, I swear to god.” Utahime grumbles back from beside you, paying no mind to your words as she continues glaring at the man from afar. Her disdain for the man was amplified when you told her of your shared past, but she had held a strong dislike for him from the moment the two had first interacted at school functions, leaving you hopeful that he wouldn’t be phased from the typical distant hostility and annoyance he received from your best friend. These days, Satoru Gojo rarely managed to spare you as much as a glance, and it had been years since he had uttered your name (a fact you were ashamed to admit you had been keeping track of, in the brief and meager conversations the two of you had shared over recent years). The feeling of being forgotten stung deep in your bones, but you outwardly portrayed the same level of unbotheredness and nonchalance he did whenever the two of you would be put in the position to briefly interact, so most of your colleagues (including Satoru himself) were hopefully none the wiser to your inner predicament.

“Alright, everyone come draw a name! And there’s no switching or re-draws unless you pick yourself!” You suddenly hear Suguru Geto’s voice echo through the room, sounding controlled and put-together as always as he drew you from your reverie and back into reality once more. It didn’t take long for the air to grow stuffy as all of the evening’s attendees crowded together around the bag of names, the small crowd still managing to tightly press together as everyone crowded in to select their recipients for this year’s secret santa event.

Some were more eager than others, but the process was still able to remain somewhat orderly as everyone pressed together and took turns grabbing a folded up paper from the bag. The rotation went counter-clockwise, and you watched as your coworkers and fellow faculty went one-by-one until the line reached Utahime to your left. As she plucked a name from the bag, you blurted out a quip that wasn’t meant to particularly be hidden, but one which you really only intended for her ears as a small grin made its way across your face.

“Thank god Gakuganji’s off on business this year, imagine what a nightmare it would be to buy a gift for him.” You laugh at your own comment, watching your best friend’s face light up in acknowledgment of the joke before opening the slip of paper in her hand. The voice you hear responding to you, though, is much lower than that of your friend’s, and the sight of her mouth not moving causes your stomach to drop as you suddenly grow aware of the presence to your right.

“God, I think getting a gift from that geezer would be worse. He’d bring five dollar socks and expect ‘utmost gratitude’.” His voice felt like honey coating your ears, deep and smooth as the scent of his cologne suddenly engulfed your surroundings. You couldn’t believe you had let his presence slip out of your awareness, that you had been oblivious to him standing right beside you even if only for a few moments. You were so used to being tuned into his movements during gatherings like these, doing your best to avoid him whenever possible and to maneuver your way subtly through awkward small talk on the occasions where avoidance wasn’t possible. And yet here he was, appearing beside you without a shred of awareness on your part. And he was joking with you causally, as if the history between you meant nothing to him at all.

He may not remember your history at all at this point.

You could feel heat rising to your face at the thought, the painful stab of acknowledging that you may not have meant as much to him as he did to you causing your form to grow rigid where you stood. You knew you shouldn’t still be so affected by him, so in tune to everything he did and so easily reactive whenever he was near. His quick remark to you showed that he held no similar reservations when interacting with you, and it had been plenty of time to let go of the torch you had been carrying. But you were the one who left the friendship with unresolved feelings you never got the chance to express to him, with an attachment deeper than just friendship. And he obviously wasn’t, which was clearly why he had managed to move on so much faster than you had.

You were thankful as you realized it was your turn to pull from the bag, eager for a distraction so you wouldn’t have to think of a response to Satoru’s remark. You needed to calm down, and hopefully you could occupy yourself with thinking of potential gifts for your recipient through the rest of the night rather than putting so much energy into a man who wouldn’t reciprocate. Your hand plunged in and out of the bag in a flash, just desperate for any name that wasn’t Satoru’s, and you let out a soft sigh of relief as you read the name inscribed on the paper in your hand.

“Yu Haibara”.

Thank god, fate seemed to be on your side this time. Not only did you not pull Satoru’s name, but you were close enough with Haibara, as you saw one another nearly every day, to comfortably pick out a gift you knew he’d enjoy even without the list provided to you. He was easily one of those you were closest to among the participants, second only to Utahime, and despite the melancholy that had been simmering within you throughout the evening as thoughts of Satoru filled your mind, you felt a sudden wave of confidence and excitement as you thought of what you could get him that you knew he’d love. Perhaps this was what you needed, to stop focusing so much on a long-dead friendship by instead putting that energy into pursuing closer friendships with those you cared about now. This was going to be the Christmas to turn around your attitude, you were sure of it.

And in the self-improvement spiral you sent yourself down in that moment, for once you missed the small, almost imperceptible yet genuine smile that crossed Satoru’s face as he pulled a name of his own from the bag.

The next morning, as you woke up and stepped out of your hotel room for the morning after dragging yourself out of bed at the sound of your alarm, you found yourself nearly falling face-first into the floor as you tripped on an unfortunately-placed object directly outside your doorway. The fall caused you to let out a shriek as you braced for impact, and though you were luckily able to catch yourself before you crashed, the event still left a small, tired scowl on your face as you pulled yourself up and took a glance at the item that had nearly left you bruised and sore first thing in the morning.

The sight in front of you, however, quickly melted your annoyance into curiosity as you saw a soft, pale yellow bag obstructing the walkway outside of your hotel door. Your mind was racing for a few moments as it tried to catch up with the morning’s events, and when you were eventually able to recall the secret santa exchange that you had signed up for the night prior, you felt a small giddiness bubbling within you as you grabbed the small bag by it’s handles and returned with it in hand to your room. Perhaps you could forgive whoever had left the bag in prime tripping position, as the excitement of receiving your first gift of the week outweighed any prior frustrations you held.

You opened the bag expecting a small gift to start off the exchange, maybe flowers or a nice snack. Your secret santa had only had hours between the choosing of the names and this morning, after all, and you would perfectly understand choosing to go light on most of the gifts even without the rushed nature of this first morning. So when you stripped the bag of its tissue paper only to be faced with a brand-new copy of a new game you had mentioned in your list of potential gifts, you couldn’t fight back the widening of your eyes in surprise. A brand new game surely wasn’t cheap, and to get it at such short notice felt like nothing short of a miracle. (Or incredible effort on your Secret Santa’s part). Taped onto the game was a note, short and simple:

“You’ve seemed extra stressed the past few days, so why don’t you take the day off and relax? Kick your feet up and have fun playing your new game ;)

- Secret Santa”

The note gave little away of the one who had left the gift, yet their kindness and effort was clear in both presentation and product as you grinned to yourself. Fate truly did seem to be on your side this holiday season, as you had seemingly been blessed with the loveliest secret santa in all existence. While the gift was much more than you had expected, and you had barely even gotten a chance to wake up that morning, you were quick to shoot a text over to Utahime telling her to come over to your room to share your excitement with someone. Though you unfortunately couldn’t play the game yet as your secret santa had advised, since you hadn’t brought your console with you on the trip to Tokyo, you still wanted to enjoy the gift in some way as you silently sent your gratitude towards your mystery gift-giver. You’d have to thank them when they finally revealed themself on Christmas eve, but for now you’d wait for your best friend to arrive so you could brag about your exceptionally generous secret santa and the gift you couldn’t wait to try out once you returned to your cozy home in Kyoto at the end of the week.

On the second day, you thankfully did not wake up to a tripping hazard outside of your door, leading you to assume your secret santa would drop off your gift later in the day. Honestly you were thankful that it wasn’t left first thing in the morning like the day prior, as you had accidentally overslept after staying out a bit later than usual picking out a gift and writing a fun note for Haibara for day one of your secret santa exchange.

You had offered to chaperone a sightseeing day around Tokyo for the students (one the Tokyo students would also be attending, though more on the basis of shopping than sightseeing) alongside Utahime and two Tokyo instructors, and after sleeping through your alarm, you were already short on time as you scrambled to get ready and meet your students on time. Having a gift to open would have only added to your hassle, and now you could look forward to receiving one at the end of the day instead as you rushed to the meeting spot, just barely making it in time.

Utahime and all of your students were already waiting, and you watched as your best friend’s face drew into a small smile as she saw you approaching. Your eyes quickly caught sight of Satoru and Suguru standing beside her, seemingly the volunteers to chaperone the Tokyo students for the day, but you were determined to stick to your new outlook of no longer fixating on Satoru, so you forced yourself to brush past his presence even as he mocked and teased your best friend beside you. The four of you set out with the students in tow, allowing Suguru to lead the way as a Tokyo native (and out of a lack of trust in Satoru’s navigational skills), and you did your best to stop your mind from drifting to thoughts of Satoru as you tried to keep your students engaged and having fun, while also taking some time to chat with Utahime and scan the area for potential gifts for Haibara.

You made many stops throughout the day as you passed through various shopping districts and interesting stores, and it brought a smile to your face to watch your students interact and have fun with one another as well as their sister school peers as they spent the day shopping and chatting altogether. The poor kids were faced with the monstrosities of the Jujutsu world on a daily basis at such a young age, and it warmed your heart to at least be able to give them the chance to simply have fun and act like teenagers every once in a while. For today they weren’t Jujutsu sorcerers in training, they were just kids hanging out with their friends, and the thought made you smile as you, Utahime and Suguru hung back and watched the kids do their shopping and sightseeing (as Gojo had turned his attention from Utahime to Megumi Fushiguro for the time being, much to the young boy’s chagrin.

The day was long and covered quite a bit of land, taking you all through the streets of Tokyo as you reminisced on your youth and saw places you hadn’t visited in years, since leaving Tokyo for Kyoto to become a Jujutsu instructor and get away from your (admittedly not that dramatic) past. Sure, the nostalgia of it all did bring memories of your childhood with Satoru to the front of your mind on occasion as you passed a shop that the two of you used to always visit with your allowance money, or a favorite restaurant you would visit together on special occasions.

But you managed to keep your focus on the students and enjoying the night out rather than letting yourself drown in the memories, and you were proud to say you even managed to be friendly and courteous to Suguru despite your usual awkwardness around your former other half’s new best friend. You were so focused, in fact, that you failed to notice when Satoru’s watchful eyes fell on you and refused to leave as he saw you interacting with his best friend with ease, or the way his expression faltered into an unreadable look at the sight.

As the sun begins to set, and all the adults begin to discuss plans to turn in for the evening, you catch a brief whiff of a scent that sends you hurdling back into your adolescence full-force, your common sense momentarily leaving you as you step out of the ongoing conversation and quickly make your way to a place which was once your sanctuary, your home away from home in your younger years.

Your favorite bakery, a small, family-owned shop whose delectable treats you hadn’t tasted in years was still standing in the same spot it always had been, and the scent of the pastry that had been your favorite since childhood made its way to you as your eyes widened at the sight. You were so caught up in trying to keep yourself from drooling at the delicious scent that you failed to hear your colleagues approaching behind you, nor the way Satoru’s eyes were trained on you once again with the slightest hint of guilt reflecting in them.

“Mmmm, looks yummy.” Utahime praises as her eye lands on the pastry you had been staring down, the two men beside her nodding in agreement. You allowed yourself another moment to stare at the delicacy inside of the shop before turning to face your comrades, though you felt your stomach do a small flip as you finally registered the way Satoru’s gaze seemed stuck on you, and the unreadable look on his face.

“Yeah…. Sorry guys, I just got a bit distracted. We should be heading back to the hotel.” You mumbled out your apology as you returned to your spot beside Utahime, trying to ignore the way thoughts of Satoru once again flooded your mind as you tried to make sense of his strange expression, or the unusual silence he was now emitting.

But there was no way that bakery brought back the same feelings for him that it did for you, and you weren’t even sure if he remembered the time the two of you spent there so long ago at all. You were sure he had long-forgotten your love of that specific pastry as the years had passed, or the way he used to always steal a bite from you whenever you bought one for yourself. Those days had long passed, and you forced yourself to shake off his sudden change in attitude and assume it was a coincidence as the four of you saw all of your students to their sleeping quarters for the evening, before parting ways to get ready for bed yourselves.

Though you were a bit sad to see the sight of an empty doorway as you made your way back to your hotel room alone that evening, you felt your heart rate pick up a bit a your mood turned to something more hopeful when you heard a quick knocking on your door as you finished up your skincare routine for the evening. Of course, your elusive secret santa was gone by the time you opened the door, but the scent that practically smacked you in the face as you reached for another pale yellow bag suddenly had your stomach twisting and turning once more as you felt your suspicions begin to raise.

And as you suspected, inside of the bag you were met with the same pastry you had just been admiring less than an hour prior, the sight making you a bit less happy than it usually would despite your gratitude for the gift as you began to realize that your secret santa had to be one of the other three people you had spent the day with. And despite your hopes that things weren’t as they seemed, the note taped to the side of the bag only caused your heart to sink further as it practically spelled it out for you, so early into the week of secret santa exchanges.

“These have always been your favorite, and now you have a whole batch all to yourself, so you don’t have to share. Though, I wouldn’t mind if you’d be kind enough to slip me a piece ;)

- Secret Santa”

You spend most of the third day - another free day, thankfully - relaxing and trying to distract yourself watching all of your favorite movies and TV shows, doing practically anything to try and keep your mind away from your discovery last night. You did end up eating the pastry that you had received the night prior (at first the thought made you shiver, as the treat felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds with the loaded memories packed within, but the temptation had eventually been too strong to resist as it’s sweet scent bombarded your senses) but you were making it a point to stay in your room for the day unless one of your students needed you, determined to avoid Satoru as you ignored your emotions rather than attempt to process them.

The note he had left the night prior seemed to indicate that the self-depricating idea that you had clung onto for so many years of him forgetting your friendship was in fact false, and the thought alone had your head swimming with conflict and served to bring up more heartbreak than the reality you had created for the state of your relationship with him over the past ten years.

If he had forgotten about you, drifted off to other friends and bigger responsibilities until your bond faded from his mind, it would at least be a pain you were used to. A pain you had desensitized yourself to through the years of pining and pondering of a friendship long lost within the seas of time. But the thought that he may still remember it all, could still recall the afternoons spent together and the secrets shared, seemed to hurt much deeper. Because that meant he had chosen something else over those memories, that they seemingly hadn’t meant as much to him even with the images still fresh in his mind.

It was a painful stab to the gut you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge, so you were content to play the fool for now as you distracted and tried to deceive yourself.

When another swift knock sounded out from the end of your room, late in the evening once more (just after you had returned from your brief venture out of your room to deliver Haibara’s gift for the day), you were truthfully hesitant to open the door at all. You were currently clinging on to plausible deniability that the note from yesterday may have somehow been a coincidence, that Satoru may not be your secret santa after all. But given how willing he was to completely give himself away as early as day 2, you had a feeling that you wouldn’t be able to live in denial for much longer once you saw what your secret santa had left for the third day.

Nonetheless, you eventually worked up the courage to rise to your feet and slowly make your way to the door, staring down the baby-blue bag standing in front of you as if it were a weapon of mass destruction. A few minutes of deep breaths and self affirmations later and you were slowly, carefully removing the tissue paper from the small bag, only to be faced with a sight that instantly caused your eyes to sting with fresh tears.

A mint green DSI, and a small collection of games. An artifact you thought you had lost long ago, likely forgotten amongst some move between houses.

You barely even noticed the tears falling down your cheeks or the way your heart seized in your chest as you reached for the note, hand over your mouth in both awe and devastation as you read the inscribed words.

“Sorry this one isn’t new, I wouldn’t mind spending thousands on you but I thought you’d prefer this. You left it behind, and I haven’t quite found the time to return it yet. Figured you’d enjoy ;)

- Secret Santa”

This was a confirmation of every thought that had been spinning within your head over the past 24 hours, and as you held one of your favorite childhood toys in your hands for the first time in over a decade, you felt more conflicted than ever on how to handle your relationship with Satoru, or what your feelings for the man were at all any more.

The following days went by in a similar rhythm, though the gifts thankfully became simpler and less nostalgic as time went on. (You weren’t sure if you could handle another late-night crying session as the result of any particularly thoughtful gifts).

Day four had left you with some typical teaching supplies, as Satoru had heard you complaining about the lack of traditional lesson plans within the Jujutsu education system and your desire to teach your students at least some of the things they’d learn in a typical Japanese high school environment over a faculty-wide dinner.

Day five, he had gifted you with some skincare products he noticed were running low after showing up unexpectedly at your hotel room in the middle of the day, pleading with you to let him use your bathroom since he had forgotten his room key inside and Suguru was asleep. The two of you hadn’t spoken much, as he was quickly in and out of your room, but he breathed out a silent sigh of relief once he was securely outside your door as he thanked the universe that you hadn’t thought too deeply into his excuse. It would look pretty ridiculous of him to be insistent on the chance to see you for a moment if you had realized that he didn’t need to stay in a hotel in the city he lived in, after all.

Day six had been the most difficult for you to process since the emotional roller coaster of the third day, and it had been the catalyst for you to finally cave and explain to Utahime what you had discovered about your not-so-secret santa, and what he had done since your revelation. You had done your best to keep her out of it, as you knew she wasn’t particularly fond of Satoru on his best of days and had listened to many of your previous venting sessions about your forgotten friendship with Satoru prior to this exchange. But when you saw what awaited you in your bag on the second to last day of the exchange, and the note that accompanied the gift, you threw your efforts out the window as you finally sought advice from your best friend.

In the bag you were greeted with a complete collection of the Haikyuu manga and a small collection of high-quality lip balms (a collection you had been growing well before you lost touch with Satoru), along with a note much lengthier than the others.

“I don’t know if you’re still all that into this series, but I know how much you loved it when we were younger. Figured this would be better than that body pillow I always threatened to buy you, hopefully you’ll read through them and get to ‘experience the story all over again’ or whatever it is you nerds say.

The lip balms I remember you loving for some reason, but I’m hoping tomorrow I’ll give you a reason to use them. We’re supposed to reveal ourselves anyways, and I’ve got some things I’d like to say. So if you’re willing to listen to an idiot like me blab on about feelings and shit for a while, meet me at our favorite bakery tomorrow night at 7.

- Secret Santa”

You knew that you’d have to face him at some point, as you did eventually have to reveal yourself to your secret santa and exchange a final gift to one another. Yet you were unsure if you should go to this meeting or not, if you were ready to face Satoru’s feelings and demand the explanation you deserved for what had happened so long ago, especially in a place that held such sentimentality to each of you.

You had expected Utahime to talk you out of it, almost hoping she would as you went to here and finally explained to her what had been going on throughout this secret santa exchange. Truth be told, you were terrified at the thought of all your feelings for Satoru possibly being laid out in the open, and were hoping she would give you an excuse to bail.

Unfortunately, she did the exact opposite of what you had hoped, and encouraged you to meet with him in the hopes that you’d finally find some sort of resolution for the feelings you had been carrying in your soul for so long, and that they’d finally either be laid to rest or be given a chance to flourish into something much better for you. Curse her and her rationality, and the way she always had your best interests at heart.

It took nearly a full minute of standing outside the small bakery, your heartbeat ringing through your ears like timpanis ringing through your bones, for you to work up the courage to open the door and step inside, pulling off your winter attire as you glanced at the cozy Christmas eve decorations lining the walls. The bakery was quiet on such a late hour the day before a holiday, and it was easy to spot Satoru (early for once, a fact that made your heart flutter the slightest bit in your chest) at a cozy table in the corner, the same table the two of you frequented throughout your pre-teen years. He didn’t even try to hide the way his eyes lit up at the sight of you, overjoyed that you had actually shown up as he waved you over to your table. His greeting, however, was incredibly lacklustre compared to the week-long build up of tension and emotions between the two of you as an effortless grin spread across his lips.

“Hey.” Was the only word that fell from his lips as you sat down across from him in the booth, the same careless attitude that had always emanate from Satoru’s very being coming off of him now. But this time you refused to play along, refused to ignore the way he had tugged on your heart strings all week long and make casual, meaningless conversation the way you always did.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me, Satoru. You know why I’m here.” You start, face fixed in a stern expression as you fought hard not to let your anxiety peek through onto your features. “Obviously I know you’re my secret santa, but I think we have bigger things to talk about here. Specifically, the way our friendship fell apart.”

Satoru wasn’t surprised in the slightest by the way you jumped straight into the heart of the conversation, he had seen the tension building on your face all week long as you received gift after gift from him. Hell, his own feelings had been much more difficult to contain than usual, with his desire to be close to you, to have you back in his life once more growing by the day. But Satoru was nothing if not unable to admit his emotions seriously, so his relaxed grin remained as he did his best not to let his heart get the best of it.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I did say I had things I needed to tell you.” He ponders gently, taking a bite of a sugary cream puff laid on the plate in front of him before meeting your gaze with his aqua eyes. “Look, I was an asshole teen, and everything that happened was on me. None of it had anything to do with you.”

Now it’s your turn to be shocked, completely amazed that the Satoru Gojo who had never apologized once as a child was currently admitting complete fault. You were stunned into silence at his words, though your face suddenly showed a layer of openness to his explanation as he continued on.

“When we got to high school I got so wrapped up in making new friends and advancing my technique and all that shit. Honestly, I was a total jerk back then, I dunno if you’d have wanted to hang around me anyways.” He laughs at the remark, but you could tell that this was the real Satoru, briefly peeking through his walls that seemed to melt so easily whenever he was around you. “Plus I had always kinda liked you, but it never really seemed like you felt that way about me. So I used my new friends and my status as a way to not have to talk to you, I was just hoping that it would give me a chance to get over whatever weird crush I had because it would just be pathetic for you to find out about it. But then it went on for longer than I realized, and by the time I figured out how much we had drifted, my pride wouldn’t let me admit why I stopped hanging out with you in the first place. Dumb, I know, but that’s really all it was.”

Satoru seemed so casual throughout his entire explanation, as if he was simply recounting his work day rather than delving into the intricacies of his thoughts and feelings and the reasons why your friendship had fallen apart. And his reasons were stupid, a part of you loathed the way younger Satoru had been so stubborn in refusing to communicate his feelings that he split the two of you apart as a result. Yet another part of you felt so incredibly thankful that the split hadn’t been because of something you did, or because he had stopped caring. It was the most idiotic behavior you had ever heard of, yet you were quick to find it in your heart to forgive him when you heard the next words that fell from his lips.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, though it was clear enough for you to hear amongst the white noise of the bakery as he tried to hide the bashful look on his face at his words. It wasn’t often that Satoru Gojo apologized, and in fact it was a sight you had never seen from the man in all your time together, and it took everything in you not to interrupt him with words of forgiveness as he continued on. “I considered doing something lame, like pulling a “your gift is me” or some shit, but I got you a real gift instead. I’m just gonna say that I know for a fact that I loved you back then, and I’m pretty sure I do now. So take this gift, and I’m just the bonus, if you’re willing to take it.”

You were practically on autopilot as you took the final gift of the week straight from Satoru’s hands, no longer hidden beneath any bags or bows as your entire body felt as if it were on fire from within. You were completely unable to muster words at the moment as you took in everything you had just heard, trying to fit what he had said into the puzzle pieces of your own emotions as you glanced at the two tickets Satoru had given you, tickets to a concert for your favorite artist.

“Hopefully you’ll let me go with you, but if you decide to kick my ass to the curb and never speak to me again, then you can at least bring a friend.” He told you as he carefully watched your reaction to your final gift, though Satoru was unable to fully hide the way panic spread throughout his entire body like a plague when he noticed tears streaming down your cheeks in waves. Before he could get another word in or even ask you what was going on, though, your eyes met his once more as your voice wavered with emotion.

“You are a complete idiot, Satoru. I spent years missing you and breaking my own heart thinking that you had just forgotten about me completely, that you didn’t remember out friendship at all. I thought my feelings would just be stuffed down and elft unsaid forever.” You chide him as your tears pour out, though the way your hand sets the tickets on the table before reaching out for his indicates that you have more yet to say.

“You’re just lucky that those feelings hadn’t been stuffed down into nothing yet.” You continue as you sneak your hand over to interlink your fingers with his, relishing in the genuine surprise that took over Satoru’s face at the warm feeling. “And the fact that you actually apologized to me for the first time helped too.” You add on, squeezing his hand gently in yours in order to prompt him to look into your eyes.

“.....Does this mean you do want the bonus?” The man in front of you mutters out after a moment, clearly feeling overwhelmed with how emotionally charged the moment is as he tries to lighten the atmosphere with a joke. And it makes his heart sing in his chest when he hears your sweet laughter in response, a sound he had missed most in all the years apart as the both of you began leaning in from across the table.

“......Yes, I guess I do want the bonus. It’s Christmas eve, after all.” You respond with a smile, before taking charge of the moment as you press your lips into his. The kiss is short and sweet, and you know you’ll have to take the relationship slow as you re-learn each other’s personalities and quirks now that you’ve grown into adulthood. Its’ obvious that it won’t be an easy process, that you’ll both have to put in the work to make the relationship work and move past the mistakes of adolescence. But you also know that there will be plenty more kisses to come, because if your childhood friendship with Satoru and the torch you still carried for him left you with anything, it was the knowledge that, to you, Satoru Gojo was worth the work if you could wake up to that gorgeous, smiling face every morning.

A/N: It’s kind of crazy to believe that it’s already the end of the year, and that this will probably be the last thing I write and post this year. I’ll release a longer post being all sappy over the new year later, but for now I just want to say that I’m so happy I found the motivation and excitement to return to this blog this year and branch out into so many fandoms, I’ve had so much fun writing and posting here and I look forward to continuing in 2024! Thank you all for reading this and any of my other works you’ve read this year, I’ve really appreciated the support and I hope I can continue posting good writing in the future :>

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navybrat817 · 1 year

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First Date

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: Steve has the best first date thanks to you. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Fluffy fluff, light pining, first date, first kiss, mentions of the holidays, Steve Rogers (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Sixth day of my Naughty & Nice Nonsense belongs to Steve Rogers. Requested by the incredible @buckyownsmylife. You deserve only good things! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

If there was one thing Steve still wasn’t used to after the serum, it was that women wanted to date him. It was strange even after he was taken out of the ice that people actively sought out his company when they used to overlook him. Bucky no longer had to convince his dates to bring along another girl for him. And Natasha, of course, did her best to set him up with a few different women.

He relented when he realized she wasn’t going to stop.

She gave up when the third girl she set him up with didn’t work out.

“What was wrong with this one?” she asked.

“Nothing was wrong with her,” Steve told her truthfully. “She was just wrong for me.”

He wondered if he was doomed to be alone.

Until you asked him out.

A breathtaking new agent with a loving smile who could easily put men twice your size on their backs. He was inexplicably drawn to you and wouldn't be breaking any bylaws by dating you. He planned to ask you out, but you beat him to the punch one day after sparring.

"Would you want to grab dinner with me Saturday?"

"A date?" he asked as you nodded.

"Yeah, a date," you said with a hopeful smile.

It felt good to have you smile at him that way.

"I'd love to," he smiled back.

“Great! I’ll pick you up at six o'clock. Dress warm, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiled more, wondering what you had in mind.

He got his answer when you showed up at his apartment right on time.

“Oh, wow,” you whispered when he opened the door. He heard your heart rate speed up as you gazed at him. You told him to dress warm, but he still wanted to look his best. “Sorry. I’m staring.”

“It’s okay,” Steve chuckled. You told him to dress warm, but he still wanted to look his best. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m staring, too.”

You looked at your feet with a small smile before you lifted your head again. “I don’t mind.”

The breathy tone in your voice had his heart racing, too. “We should probably get going, otherwise I’ll just stare at you all night,” he teased.

The other dates he had been on had initial awkwardness in the beginning, but he felt none of that when he held out his hand for you. Even through the fabric, he felt electricity crackle between the two of you. Like a natural fit.

“Now, I should warn you,” you began as he led you out of the apartment building. “I kind of deviated away a bit from the normal first date dinner."

“I’m sure whatever you have set up is going to be amazing,” he smiled, giving your hand a small squeeze.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “I wanted to make it something to remember.”

“If I were a better gentleman, I would’ve been the one to plan this.”

“You think I’d make you plan your first date since you’ve been unfrozen?” you asked incredulously as you began to walk again. “Never.”

Steve opened his mouth and closed it just as quickly as you pulled him along the sidewalk. He didn’t have the heart to tell you this wasn’t his first date. Not when you looked so happy.

“Here it is!” you grinned.

A large horse and carriage stood by the curb with a coachman who tipped his hat. The red plush bench had a blanket for extra warmth and Steve noticed a small table with two drinks and a large box across from where they’d sit. He could smell the pizza from where he stood.

It was from his favorite restaurant.

“I thought we could have pizza and drinks while we looked at lights around the city. And there’s a bakery stop along the way so we can have dessert,” you explained as you approached the carriage. “I figured this would give us a chance to talk and see how beautiful our home looks when we’re not fighting to keep it safe.”

Steve didn’t get in right away as his eyes met yours, memorizing how beautiful you looked under the city lights. You held your breath as he stepped closer. He knew you put a lot of thought into this evening. That alone made him feel special.

"But if you hate it, I can-"

“This is incredible,” he said as you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Really? Because your silence made me a little nervous,” you giggled.

Steve held up a hand to stop the coachman from helping you in, wanting to do it himself. “I'm sorry. I’m told I can be a bit stoic,” he joked, settling into the carriage beside you once you got comfortable.

“Didn’t I tell you? This is a stoic free carriage,” you teased.

"If anyone can make me smile, it's you."

He hoped that didn't sound cheesy.

"I like making you smile," you said as the carriage began to move.

The two of you traded stories as you ate and rode through the city. The lights brought warmth to the night sky, but he found himself staring at you more than the scenery. By the time you finished eating the pizza and stopped for warm, freshly baked cookies, he had his arm around you and the blanket over both of your legs.

"So, is this how you pictured your first date?"

"No, I didn't. This is even better," he smiled, brushing a bit of chocolate from the corner of your mouth away with his thumb.

"It is?" you asked, your voice soft as he brought his thumb to his mouth.

"It is," he said, unaware of how enticing he looked as he licked it clean. He bet you tasted just as sweet. "I wish Natasha had set you up with me first."

The longing in your eyes shifted to confusion. "First? What do you mean?" you asked before you nodded in understanding. "I'm not your first date, am I?"

Steve briefly closed his eyes. Shit. He didn't mean to say that. He was a terrible liar though, so he knew he couldn't come up with an excuse.

"No," he said.

"I'm so sorry," you said, picking a bit at the blanket and avoiding his gaze. "That was a really dumb assumption on my part."

"It wasn't dumb," he promised. "I don't exactly go around broadcasting my personal life."

That happened to him enough while he was under the ice and you wouldn't have known.

"It was dumb, but thank you."

He didn't want you to feel bad or embarrassed. "Look at me, please."

It took a moment, but you slowly turned your head toward him. He wanted to kiss the uncertain expression off your face. Leaning in, that's exactly what he did. The brush of his lips against yours was soft and full of promise.

Perfect.

"This is the best date I've ever had," he whispered.

"Our date isn't over yet," you smiled when he leaned in for another kiss.

With your lips against his, he imagined what it would have been like had he taken you out in the 40's. Maybe the two of you would have gone dancing. Any excuse to hold you close like this.

It would be the perfect second date.

Steve deserves something sweet. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #navy's naughty & nice nonsense #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans

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fromforeigntofamiliarity · 2 years

Text

Should Be Mine | Part II | Black Noir/Homelander

Summary: Part One

Warning: Homelander

Requested: yes

Taglist 🏷: @noodle81937 @minaxcarter

"Spotted! Mr. and (Future)Mrs. Noir exit a supe-child orphanage, well known member of the supe group 'The Seven', Black Noir has been spotted with is fiancé of 4 months visiting a few choice homes for parentless children but most notably a orphanage that home super powered children.

Are the new couple looking to expand their family soon after completing their nuptials?

Many people have expressed their concern, know that some children were placed in the home due to the unfortunate event cause by their inability to control said powers.

What ever the future hold we just wish the best for Noir and America's favorite baker.

Next we hav-"

Turning the TV off Homelander let of a huff in frustration at the news. Starting a family?

They were gonna adopt a child? Just another reason why she should be with him, she obviously longed to be a mother and Noir couldn't even give her that, but he could. Homelander already had a son, that was his own flesh and blood, and that meant he could give her not only the chance to raise his son but also a child of their own.

Over the past four months he saw...he saw that she was desperate, longing to be with him but she was too good of a person to say it. She was too kind to break Noir's heart.

Had she told him this? No.

But it was the small things like the way she smiled at him, the way she would tense up when he was near her and he hated seeing her cling to Noir to try and prove she was still in love with him.

Of course Homelander knew the backlash she would get if she were to break up with Noir to be with them, but that could easily be remedied, after all it was true love.

He just needed to ease her into it, show her was she was missing, all the thing he could give to her.

*-*-*

Walking up to the bakery Y/N pulled out the keys to the front door, just as she attempted to unlock it she hear a voice behind her.

"Why hello." Homelander greeted standing, a bit too close, behind her causing her to drop the keys.

Whipping around Y/N felt her body tense at the presence of the supe, after he has shown up to their home that night she demanded Noir tell her is she was in any danger from the leader of the seven after she couldn't shake the bad feeling she got from him. He told her that Homelander, much like himself, had more than a little blood on his hands but where as Noir's was from mission...Homelander's were from his free time.

After that she was more on guard...which resulted in Homelander being pissed that the next time he went to monitor her, he found her hanging curtains that contained zink as well as repainting the house with the same substance.

Of course he blamed Noir, He must have known he was watching and made her do this.

There is no reason for her to want to hide from him, she loved it when he watched her, even if she didn't know.

"Homelander." Y/N replied putting a smile on while pushing against the door in order to create distanced. hearing a jingle pulled her attention away.

"You dropped these." The little boy said holding out the keys towards her. Ryan, of course she new who the young boy was, everyone did.

"Thank you." You smiled to him taking the keys from him. "So what bring to here?" She asked looking between the two males.

"Well I told you I wanted to stop by four months ago." Homelander answers. "Plus I promised Ryan a nice day out so..."

"Two birds, one stone." Y/N Stated a little relieved he didn't just come here to stalk her, he was out with his son. "Well sorry to say we aren't open yet, it will be a while before I have anything to get you."

"No?" Homelander asked.

"Made fresh everyday." Y/N informed. "I start prep and my team and I bake til closing."

"Can we help with the prep?" Ryan asked looking past her and into the bakery. "And help you baking."

"That sound like a great idea Ryan." Homelander agrees placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "What do you say?" He asked almost daring her to deny his son.

"I mean prep is pretty boring...I wouldn't want to hold up your father son day." Y/N rebuttals hoping it would change Ryan's mind. The two stood there looking at her expectedly as if ignoring her statement still waiting for an answer to Homelander's question. "But I would love the company and extra help." She relented seeing as she had no other choice.

For the next few hours Ryan ran around grabbing thing Y/N said she needed as her employees funneled in, most if not all of them were immediately in shock and awe at the presence of the supe and his son. Yes Noir and others members of 'The Seven' had stopped by, taken a few pictures, kissed babies but this was Homelander. The fucking Homelander.

By mid-day the bakery was pack with people who had seen the pics the employees posted and wanted a dessert made by by Ryan, who was walking around handing out orders with a chief hat on, or a picture with Homelander.

The internet was going wild.

Under one particular photo is where most of the comments lied. It was of Y/N and Ryan her arms around him as they both gripped a piping bag, icing blue onto a cupcake, Homelander stood just behind her looking over her shoulder, all with varying smiles on their faces.

'They look like the perfect family.'

'omg! some girls have all the luck.'

'Isn't she dating Noir?'

'Like honestly.....so what?'

'Ryan obviously loves her, they should date.'

'She is not good enough for him.'

'Lol, jealous much?'

'look at how Homelander looks at them, as a man, I can tell he sees this as his perfect family.'

'He is in love with her!! No one can tell me different.'

'Their soulmates.'

'Right person, wrong time.'

Entering his home with Ryan Homelander was more than content with how the day went. he had expected for Y/N to bond with Ryan but he had underestimated the power of social media and fangirls/fanboys in spreading his narrative that Y/N should be with him.

"So how did you like hanging out at the bakery?" Homelander asked his son as they say down n the sofa.

"It was fun," Ryan replied. "Y/N was nice and the cupcakes were good."

"Y/N is nice...but you know why I took you there right?" He asked looking down at the boy who shook his head. "It's because Y/N is going to be apart of our lives very soon, she's gonna be your new mom."

"New mom?" Ryan asked with a small frown.

"Now, no one can replace your real mom obviously." Homelander clarifies seeing Ryan's reaction. "but Y/N really want to be your mom, and live with us, make you happy and maybe even give you a sibling. Does that sound like something you would like?"

Taking a few moments to think it over Homelander is overjoyed to see his son smiling at him while nodding his head.

"I'd like that very much."

"Me too."

#the boys imagine #the boys #black noir x reader #black noir #homelander x reader #homlander #black noir x reader x homelander #homelander imagine #black noir imagine #masterlist #the boys x reader

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estrellayluna · 10 days

Text

Devotion Nanami Kento

Synopsis : Dreaming of your late father, you realized visiting his grave shouldn’t feel like chore nor burden. You change the way you view visiting his grave with the simple pleasures of a bakery that’s right next door to the flower shop.

(This is a bit long, please bear with me)

To say you had been woken up due to the early sun beaming through your blinds would be an understatement. Unfortunately this morning you were woken up due to a cold sweat, seeming to gasp for air at the same time.

It has been 5 months since the day you lost your father. And just in 7 days, it’ll be the 6th month mark. The thought of another month since his passing caused you to drown yourself in the comfort of your blankets, trying to block the sun from bothering you anymore along with the rest of your problems.

Hoping to rest just a while longer was cut short to your phone ringing somewhere alongside you. Desperately trying to find the device to put an end to the loud disturbance you answered the phone while mustering the strength to get out of bed.

“Hello?”

“(Y/N) sweetie, how are you?” It was the soothing voice of your mother on the other end.

“Hi mom, I just woke up not long ago actually. If it weren’t for your call right now I would still be rotting in bed.” Your mom let out a soft laugh, causing you to smile.

“Well I’m glad I was of help this early in the morning my love, I just wanted to call you and check up. It doesn’t seem to get any easier for me to make it non awkward for us.” You sighed just lightly hoping your mom didn’t catch.

“6 months soon and I still can’t seem to get it right can I, (Y/N)?” You hum in response to your mom.

“It’s nothing to worry about mom, I’m an adult now. If I were a child I think fathers whole passing would have been a whole different story for us.” You respond calmly while making your way to the kitchen.

Your parents divorced when you were a child. Being raised by a single mother and only seeing your father on the weekends growing up. Most young kids tended to favor the father more but seeing your mother struggle to make ends meet made you see things differently at a young age. Especially once you were understanding of the situation was when your mother told you the truth. Your father was unfaithful to your mother.

“Plan on doing anything special this time around (Y/N)?” Your mother asks as you pour yourself a cup of tea. You paused. ‘Should I tell her?’

Since your fathers passing, you couldn’t really make out what to think about it. Of course you were sad. But ultimately each time you actually sat down and thought about it, you felt nothing. Like a void that was not empty nor full. In the beginning your mother was concerned, causing her to have her own doubts if she had done the right thing years ago in opening up to you about the truth.

But you had reassured her multiple times in the past that even before being revealed to the truth that your relationship with your father was strained. Something you also couldn’t pinpoint as to why. So there was no need to worry she failed to protect you and your relationship with your father.

“I dreamt about him last night mom.” You replied in a hushed tone while sitting down on your small circular wooden table.

“It was a short dream. Though it felt so real. I couldn’t make him out in the beginning but once I realized it was him I broke down. He was two other little kids alongside with him. They were both girls. One at least two years old and another eleven years old,” you started to feel hot tears forming in your eyes “it felt so real mom. I don’t know where people go once they pass but if that was a sign that he’s doing alright I’ll go along with that.” Tears started to stream down your face, your left hand holding your phone up to your ear and your right clutching your chest.

“Well it’s a possibility that could be true my love. When your father passed I liked to think he’s with your older sister sometimes too.”

Your mothers response made you smile, wiping away your tears you let out a small laugh.

“Do you think the younger child must be another’s lovers child?” You respond with a witty tone that makes the both of you laugh.

“Sometimes I wonder how serious and unserious you can be at times (Y/N)” you mother says while calming down.

“You should visit him more often (Y/N).”

Walking back towards your room, leaving the forgotten tea you had make earlier and walking towards your bedroom window to open and let fresh mourning air in you hum in response, “I’ll try my best mom.”

“I forgave your father a long time ago (Y/N), I hope you can as well someday.” Looking over at your clock,

9:35am

“Thank you mom, for everything.” You knew your smile could be felt on the other end for your mother, “I love you so much (Y/N) I’ll try my best to visit you soon, try to have a productive day today!”

After ending the call with your mom, you promised her you would. Starting with making your bed.

11:40am

Locking your apartment door behind you and putting your keys in your bag you walked down towards the entrance of your apartment building.

The sunny weather felt like a warm blanket as you walk down the street while soft breezes pass you. You don’t live far from the city’s downtown where all the restaurants, shops and livelihood are.

After the phone call with your mother you had a moment thinking of what she had told you.

I forgave your father a long time ago

The feeling of guilt almost entirely overcame you until you had promised your mother you’d have a productive day.

And you knew deep down inside your father wouldn’t want you rotting away in bed and be a lazy person ignoring their problems.

With almost nothing to do on your day off you decided to visit your fathers grave while the weather is still warm.

You almost never visit your fathers grave, and if you do it always been less than shamelessly 15 minutes.

Shaking away your thoughts as you come closer to the flower shop, the smell of freshly baked goods seem to get closer. Looking past the flower shop, you see an entrance to what seemed to be a small tucked away bakery. You hadn’t noticed until now that there was such a place.

Granted when you stop by the flower shop it was always a swift stop as you tend to always wish to get visiting his grave over as quickly as possible.

Looking down at the time,

12:02pm

It was still early in the day, plus being eager to get about your day you forgot to bring a water bottle with you, you couldn’t see why not stopping for a quick refreshment at the bakery.

Walking inside, you were immediately greeted by the smell of the warm sweet treats and the friendly atmosphere. Not too busy but just a little tight for your liking.

Perhaps next time I can plan to take some baked goods with me to the gravesite

Walking up to the counter you order a cup of lemonade and requested a small cup of water to accompany.

Deciding to enjoy and bask in the smell of the bakery you sat down in the nearest small table in front of the window, sipping on your refreshments as well as just looking out the bakery’s window watching as life goes by.

The bakery’s peace was at a mellow stance until your thoughts were interrupted by the doors bell ding, and steady footsteps being heard ushering towards the front.

You looked over to see a tall frame in a dark mocha colored suit sort of frantically trying to get his order in as fast as possible.

Not wanting to seem so curious you look back towards the window, unbeknownst in looking at the man’s reflection.

Tall, blond, fit, nice looking suit. He must be a businessman.

As the man turns around to wait for his order to be ready at the other end of the counter, he slightly leaned back checking his watch in haste, sighed in what seemed of exhaustion, quickly looked up while still waiting

His eyes met yours in the reflection of the window.

Caught, you felt your ears get hot and you looked away from the reflection of his eyes. Looking down, anywhere but back at his.

Trying to smoothly drink quickly the remainder of your beverages left, you got up and quickly thanked the staff before heading out.

As you walked past the window you were looking out of just now you tried your best to not look back in again to see if the tall man was still there. Filled with blush and embarrassment you quickly opened the door to the flower shop.

“Yes those are beautiful, I’ll take just a small bouquet of those daisies please.” Smiling at the older lady, and as she starts to make her way towards the back to prepare the bouquet your steps head towards the display of all the other flowers the shop had displayed.

Nothing it was just yourself in the shop you noticed how quiet it was inside, the faint sounds of the scissors being put to work in trimming your bouquet.

Deep in thought of the beautiful colors the flowers came in you hadn’t notice that another person walked into the shop.

“Tiger flowers, vibrant as can be around this time around,” the soft voice of a man says behind you.

Taken out of your thoughts, you look up quickly seeing the reflection of the green tinted windows of the flower shop you see the man from the bakery behind you.

Swiftly turning around to meet the man’s eyes you could feel your whole face feel hot, unsure to smile or apologize for earlier at the bakery.

Looking at him closer, you note his features. His strong facial expressions, his circler metal glasses, and his lips.

Does this man have a permanent frown? He’d be totally more inviting if he didn’t..

Pushing your thoughts away you smiled at the man, agreeing with him.

“Yeah, the vibrant colors are beautiful.” You responded, not sure on how this conversation would go.

Before more words can be said the flower shop employee had just finished your bouquet of flowers you requested.

“Miss (L/N), I got your bouquet all nice and ready!”

In the beginning of the your fathers passing, you had frequent here at the flower shop, and you explained as to why you were buying flowers in the first place to the elderly worker. She didn’t pry but she had vaguely mentioned how certain flowers have different meanings. You can recall how generous she was and how she took care into making your bouquets.

Looking back at the counter you smiled back at her and headed towards her, ready to make your purchase. Not before giving one last smile towards the man.

As you pull out your wallet, you hear the lady greet the man.

“Oh Kento! It is nice to see you again! How are you? Looking at different flowers today? I can assure you those Tiger Flowers can last up to two weeks!”

The man’s footsteps can be heard walking towards the both of you.

“Thank you Mrs. Ua, but I intend to buy white roses this time.” The man now standing next to you stands tall and firm, so tall he’s looking down at the elderly lady.

“Oh well Kento, I’ll just have to keep hoping both of your two’s healing journey will show you how other flowers can look just as lovely placed onto headstones!”

Slightly shocked at her response, you looked up at the man

So he’s visiting someone too? I figured he was probably coming in to buy his significant other flowers

“I’m sure soon enough we can Mrs. Ua,” Kento responded whilst looking down at your bouquet that was placed gently on the counter, “Mrs. Ua, actually I’ll go ahead and change the white roses to daisies as well. And you can go ahead and allow me to pay for this woman’s bouquet as well.”

How many times am I going to keep being heating up because of this man?

Trying to calm yourself down, you quickly object.

“Oh! Oh no, please it’s totally fine! You don’t have to!”Blushing furiously now the man looks down at you, slightly smiling.

“Please, allow me to. It would certainly brighten up my day.”

An excited coo can be heard from Mrs. Ua

Had you ever think that you’d be walking now alongside a man you had just met less than 30 minutes ago. No.

Whilst Mrs. Ua was preparing his bouquet small talk had to ensue. If it hadn’t been for the man you had learned name was Kento, he was the first to start.

“Are you headed to visit a love one as well?” He asked you while leaning on the flower shops counter this time, whilst you still faced towards the back. Once again the faint hearing the faint scissors at work.

“Yes, I am. I am planning to visit my late father today,” your heard turns toward the man, slight tilting your head up to look at him, “are you doing the same?”

The blonde man looks down at you quickly before looking away again, facing the shops display of flowers.

“Yes I am, except I plan to visit my friend.” Smiling at him, “as sad as the circumstances may be, it’s nice to meet you-,” before you could say his name, he then finally introduced himself.

“Kento Nanami.” He looked down at you once again.

“(L/N) (Y/N),” you smiled at him, “it’s nice to meet you Kento Nanami,” with a beaming smile.

—

I honestly have no idea where this is going. I started at 1 am, I’m pausing at almost 4 am. Please forgive me!! Also this blog is so old. I am no longer 19 anymore but 21. I hope to get back into writing.

I would love to hear feedback and suggestions to continue this little plot!

#nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami fluff #nanami x y/n

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therealdisneyfan2319 · 1 year

Text

Latte Love | Wanda Maximoff

Summary: When a new coffee shop opens up across the street from your bakery, you enter into a rivalry with its new owner

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Smut (minors DNI), language, mentions of major character death, house fire, mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 7.3K

Masterlist

A/N: This was a request from @aloneodi. The prompt was pretty straightforward: enemies to overs with lots of angst and smut. Enjoy ;)

For the past two months the construction across the street from your bakery had driven you insane. The constant sawing and hammering was grinding your gears. You weren’t sure what was coming in the old storefront. It had been vacant as long as you could remember. You were in elementary school when Mr. Neely retired and the building now sat in a state of dilapidated disrepair: the front awning was threadbare, the windows were partially boarded up, and graffiti was spray painted over the brick storefront. Inside the empty cases gathered dust and cobwebs. It was a bit of a pleasant surprise when you came to work one day to see a ‘SOLD’ sign taped to the front door.

“Maybe we should blast some music, give them a taste of their own medicine,” Natasha suggested with a smirk. Natasha Romanoff was your right hand woman when it came to running the bakery. Not only was she an accounting whiz and could balance the books in her sleep, she also made a mean creme brûlée.

“I just don’t understand why it’s taken them so long to remodel. It’s construction, not rocket science. What’s going in there anyway?”

“It’s a coffee shop. I met the owner when I went to the wholesaler the other day,” Sam explained as he dumped another batch of bagels into the bucket. A slightly intimidating Air Force veteran with the heart of a teddy bear, Sam was your resident bagel maker and donut fryer. People came from all corners of the state for his famous brownie batter donuts and egg everything bagels,

“So literally the exact same as us?” You could hardly believe what you were hearing. The Rolling Scones had quickly established itself as Westview’s premiere (and only) bakery. Why did someone else need to open up right across the street?

“Hold up, it’s not exactly the same thing. We’re a bakery that serves coffee and they’re a coffee shop that serves baked goods. Totally different.”

You shot Sam a glance that immediately made him do an about face and head back to his boiling batch of bagels. Flour covered fingers ran through your hair as you leaned up against the back counter thinking about all the negative ways this new shop was going to impact yours.

“What are we gonna do, Nat? I can’t lose this place.”

“Y/N, relax. It’s just another business. We’re not going to go out of business just because there’s a new place in town. If anything they’re the ones who should be worried. They have to compete with Sam’s bagels.”

“We could just burn it down!” Peter, the teenager who washed dishes after school and on weekends, added. “Then we wouldn’t have to worry about them!”

“He’s got a point,” Sam added as the door jingled open.

“Peter! Arson isn’t the answer here!” Nat rolled her eyes, heading to the back to work on handling the latest invoices.

“But it is a solution,” you teased. Natasha groaned as she kicked the back room door open. “Can I help you?” you asked, turning your attention to the customer who walked up to the counter.

“Yeah, I’m looking for a - oh, SAM! Hi!” The young woman in front of you raised up on her tiptoes and waved over the counter.

“Wanda hey!” He walked over, an overflowing basket of hard rolls in his arms. “Glad you came. How’s the remodeling going?”

“Good! My contractor told me that we should be able to open by the end of the month.”

“That’s great news! Did you pick the name yet?”

“My brother and I argued about it for a while, but we finally settled on Latte Love.”

“You’re the one who bought the old deli?!”

“Mmhmm. I always wanted to open a coffee shop and I thought it was an absolutely charming little spot. So I saved and took out some loans and got it! I’m Wanda. Wanda Maximoff.” The overexcitable brunette shoved her hand out in front of you.

“Y/N L/N,” you responded as you reluctantly clasped her hand. The last thing you wanted to do was be friendly with the person who was your direct competitor.

Sam chatted with Wanda, asking her all sorts of questions about the wholesaler and how she was faring getting her deliveries set up. Your vision went red at the sight of your friend and this despicable woman having a friendly conversation. Why on earth would he invite her into your shop, the shop your parents worked so hard to build and the one you worked so hard to keep thriving? The fear of losing the family business permeated your mind on a daily basis. This wasn’t making it any better…

“Who’s that?” Natasha’s voice snapped you out of your stewing. She leaned against the counter, sizing up the scene in front of her.

“That’s the new coffee shop owner. Wanda. I have no idea why she’s here or why she’s talking to Sam,” you huffed, crossing your arms as you leaned against the counter.

“Someone sounds a little jealous,” Nat teased.

“Jealous?!” Your face flushed red with embarrassment. “You think I’m jealous? Nat, that’s the woman who’s going to try to steal all our customers! She’s the enemy here, not the prize!”

Natasha looked at you, then at Wanda, then back at you, and back at Wanda. “She’s hot. Think I stand a chance?”

“Can you pretend you’re not gay for like, five minutes please? Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking. I’m not jealous, I don’t want anything to do with her, and I swear to Christ if she’s into chicks too and you sleep with her your ass is so fired. ANYONE who sleeps with her is outta here!” As much as you hated to admit it, Natasha was right: Wanda was gorgeous. She had the perfect figure, her cropped jeans hugging the curves of her hips just right. The billowy light blue and white button up and oversized sun hat gave her a youthful exuberance that radiated from her glowing face and stunning green eyes.

“You’d have less of a stick up your ass if you got laid, you know?” she smirked. Groaning, you headed back toward the kitchen, kicking the swinging door with your foot. The sweet smell of powdered sugar and freshly baked cupcakes instantly calmed you. Unsure of how to amuse yourself until Wanda left, you grabbed a cooling rack of cookies and began frosting, turning the sugary discs into half moons. The repetition of frosting and smoothing calmed you. With enough time and vanilla Wanda’s unwelcome appearance would soon become a distant memory.

************************************************

Latte Love had been open for almost a month. The cafe had a slow start initially. Customers trickled in and out for the better part of two weeks. For those two glorious weeks you paid no heed to the brunette who could often be found sweeping the sidewalk and arranging the outside tables just so. Suddenly, something changed. Before you knew it a line formed outside the locked doors every morning with people waiting to get their morning cup of coffee. You didn’t pay much attention to it at first, but once you spotted a couple of your regulars in the line your vitriol for Wanda increased tenfold.

“That’s the third time today they’ve had a line out the door!” Peter exclaimed as he pressed his nose to the glass.

“Thank you for that reminder, Captain Obvious,” you snarked as you counted back change to the lady at the counter. “Anything else you want to add?”

Peter quickly recoiled from the glass, a sheepish expression on his face. “Ned says their coffee is really good….and so are their muffins,” he mumbled.

Oh great. Now I’ve gotta compete with her pastries, too. What a bitch…you thought to yourself as you handed the lady back a fistful of coins. Wanda was frustrating you more and more every single day. You sighed, taking off your baseball cap and running your hands threw your sweaty hair.

The door jingled. Sam and Nat walked in, the two of them eating cookies that suspiciously didn’t look like yours.

“What are those?” you asked.

“You want one? Wanda gave them to us. Pietro’s trying out a new recipe for sugar cookies. They’re honestly not half bad.” Sam reached into the brown paper bag and grabbed a large cookie, its warmth causing it to bend ever so slightly.

“Goddamn it! You slammed your cap down on the counter. In your mind, this was an act of war and you were not going to stand for it. Who did she think she was, bribing your employees?

“Y/N, just relax, okay? Wanda didn’t mean anything by it. She’s really nice if you get to know her,” Natasha asserted.

“She’s stealing our customers!” you shouted. “And I can’t believe you guys are eating her food!”

“Dude, relax. The cookies are good and she’s nice. Her brother’s cool, too,” Sam added, wiping cookie crumbs from his goatee.

“Unbelievable,” you mumbled, storming around the counter and yanking the door open. You were going over there to give her a piece of your mind.

You didn’t care what customers thought as you pushed Latte Love’s door open. Lucky for you there weren’t any at the moment, the last one having left moments ago. You heard the commotion of dishes crashing from the back and a voice you hadn’t heard before mixing with Wanda’s. As the commotion in the background subsided, it was the perfect opportunity to look around at the transformed deli.

The new design was rustic chic with exposed brick walls, stained wooden tables, and the same rustic counter that Mr. Neely once stored his meats and cheeses in. A series of shiny metallic coffee machines sat behind the counter, the shelves above it stocked with containers full of different types of coffee beans. The front case was stuffed full of various breads, pastries, cookies, and sandwiches. It wasn’t a bad place at all, and the food didn’t look half-bad either. She’d actually done a decent job at bringing the old shop back to life.

“Y/N?” You whipped around as Wanda called your name. She looked exhausted, her face glistening with sweat and powdered sugar as she pushed a rack of cupcakes and sweet breads out of the kitchen. Her hair was swept up in a messy bun, strands hanging askew as she wiped the sweat from her bow with her arm. Her black apron was peppered with sugar and frosting stains. “How are you? Did Sam give you a cookie like I asked him to?” “Did Sam - what?”

“Oh, I gave him some cookies to try. Pietro’s working out a new sugar cookie recipe and he needs taste testers so I figured-”

“What are you playing at here, Maximoff?”

“Excuse me?” Wanda tilted her head as she questioned you, her gaze quickly hardening into a stare.

“You heard me. What are you playing at? Is stealing my customers not enough for you that you need to go after my employees too?”

Wanda’s jaw dropped open as she stared at you incredulously. She laughed, shaking her head as she started unloading the cupcakes. “Are you for real right now?”

“Before you showed up we’d sell out every single day. Now more often than not I’m throwing stuff out. Sales have dropped and I’ve lost regulars that I’ve had for years. So I’m telling you this now: stay away from me and my staff.” It was all you could do to not take all your frustration out on her.

“I don’t know what you think’s going on here,” Wanda started, placing the trays neatly in the case. While she wasn’t outwardly aggressive, she shoved them in there harder than she normally would. “But you are absolutely insane if you think that I’m trying to steal your customers or staff or whatever. Sam and Natasha have been nothing but kind to me and Pietro, I just want to return the favor.”

“Well stop. The last thing I need is for my guys to be fraternizing with the enemy,” you grumbled, your blood pressure reaching a boiling point as you stared her down, fists clenched tightly at your side.

“Oh, so now I’m the enemy then?” She slammed the tray on the counter, sending loaves of bread tumbling off the sides. “Jesus, Y/N, what’s wrong with you? Have you ever stopped to think that maybe people stopped going to your shop because they wanted to try something new or, here’s a novel thought, maybe they like my place more than yours?”

“Fuck you, Wanda! That place means everything to me! You have no idea what I’ve done to keep that bakery running and I’m not gonna let your stupid bucket list adventure ruin my life’s work!”

“Get out!” Wanda shouted as she threw a muffin at your head. Her aim was wide and the pastry hit the wall with a splat as you leaned out of the way. “Get the fuck out of my store you bastard!”

Your vision tunneled as you stormed out of the shop, not neglecting to flip her the bird as you slammed the door behind you. Ever since Wanda Maximoff came to town everything had gone completely and utterly wrong. Everyone seemed to be flocking to her and her business. Even Sam and Natasha, two of your closest friends in the whole wide world, had taken to her. It irritated you to no end. She constantly invaded the deepest depths of your mind, and many nights you awoke in a cold sweat after she invaded your dreams. There was nothing you wouldn’t do to get her out of your mind: grueling pre-dawn runs, sleepless nights spent getting ahead on cake orders, countless after-work happy hours throwing back whatever alcohol you could get your hands on…anything to get that frustrating, irritating, beautiful woman, out of your mind.

************************************************

After your spat, it was like someone had built the Berlin Wall in the middle of the street. Patrons realized that something was up with the two shops and most had picked a side. Lucky for you a majority of the customers you lost returned. Things finally went back to normal for a while. Sam and Natasha stopped frequenting Latte Love, or if they didn’t they kept quiet about it. Natasha reamed you out for the way you snapped at Wanda, telling you to grow the fuck up and deal with it like an adult while Sam became unusually quiet around you. It was exasperating, but at least you felt like you were in control again. Yet as things started to go back to normal, there was something looming around the corner that would change your life forever.

************************************************

“Hello?” you mumbled groggily into your phone. It was the middle of the night and your phone jolted you awake with its abrasive ringtone.

“Y/N, it’s Nat.” You shot right up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. She sounded extremely concerned to the point where you were worried.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s the bakery. It’s-”

You didn’t even let her finish before you hung up, frantically searching for some clothes and your keys as you raced down the stairs of your apartment toward your car. As you sped down the road toward downtown, an orange glow illuminated the dark buildings while sirens grew ever closer.

Oh no. Oh no no no no no. Please no. Please. You white-knuckled the steering wheel, your damp palms sliding as your heart pounded in your chest. The turn onto the main drag confirmed your worst fears: The Rolling Scone was burning.

You skidded to a halt almost as soon as you turned the corner. Fire engines, police cars, and ambulances blocked the area surrounding your store and the other end of the road while firefighters rushed into the burning building. You jogged down the street, looking for a familiar face in the crowd of first responders.

“Y/N!” Natasha jumped out of the back of an ambulance and came running over to you, a reflective rescue blanket draped over her shoulders.

“Nat! Oh god, are you okay?” She threw her arms around you and squeezed you tight. You instinctively pulled her close, cradling her head with one hand as you wrapped your other arm around her.

“I don’t know what happened. I was working on the books in the office before I got started on the donuts and I started smelling smoke, so I walked out there and the kitchen was on fire. I tried to put it out, but when it got too big I called 911. It’s all my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” Her eyes were brimming with tears as she apologized for the mistake that wasn’t her fault.

“It’s not your fault,” you mumbled against the top of her head. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” You held her close to you as she cried into your shirt. The sight of your beloved bakery burning to the ground in front of you should’ve elicited some emotional response from you, but you felt nothing. None of what was happening seemed real. You’d wake up in a few hours, shake off your nightmare, and head back to work like nothing ever happened, but that wouldn’t happen again for a very long time. Now when you woke up, you’d have to spend the foreseeable future picking up the charred pieces of your livelihood.

************************************************

Gone. It was all gone. The last tangible reminder of your parents had gone up in smoke. Words couldn’t accurately describe just how devastated you were. The bakery was the way you dealt with the crushing pain of having tragically lost your parents so early in life. Now your coping mechanism was gone. You looked around, seeing the charred remains of the booths, the front counter, and the collection of employee and family pictures that hung on the back wall. One picture in particular caught your eye. It was you and your parents after the little league championship game the year your team won. The picture was charred around the edges, half of your mom’s body was burnt off, but it was mostly intact. You ripped it off the wall, sighing as you stared at the faded memory.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered at your parents’ beaming faces. You let their dream burn down and with it your last memories of them.

You stayed in the building most of the day. Natasha stopped by at one point to find you on the floor leaning against what was left of the front counter. She offered to grab you some food or take you home, but you declined, wanting nothing more than to disappear into the void. That’s where Wanda found you when she showed up later in the evening.

“Hey,” she said as she crouched under the CAUTION tape. You ignored her as you stared at the charred photograph in your hand. She stood awkwardly in front of you, a brown paper bag in one hand and her purse in the other. Wanda was the last person in the world you wanted to see right now. You wanted to scream, to tell her to leave you alone, but you didn’t have the energy.

“Please go,” you murmured, flipping the photograph through your fingers.

She didn’t go. She walked over to the counter, kicking a piece of charred wood to the side as she sat down next to you. There was an unspoken tension in the air as neither of you looked at each other: you stared down at the picture, she stared at the brown bag in her hand.

“Here,” she said as she slid the bag over to you. Taking a look inside the brown bag, you saw two delicious looking honey butter muffins staring back at you. “I figured that it’d help you feel a bit better.” Wanda smiled, her emerald eyes glimmering back at you. For the first time since you met it made your heart skip a beat.

“You figured that muffins from your still-standing cafe would help me feel better about my bakery burning down?”

“Look I’m sorry, okay? I’m really sorry about your bakery…” she trailed off as she brought her knees up and hugged them close to her chest. “It should’ve been my place that burned down, not yours.”

“Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true! Sam told me all about this place. How your parents built it from the ground up, how you’ve literally spent your whole life working here, how you dropped out of school after they died to-”

“Please stop,” you interrupted as you felt another lump in your throat. .

“Is that them?” she asked, leaning over to get a better look at the photo in your hand.

You nodded. “That’s, umm, that’s the day we won the little league championship. Dad coached my team that year and…” You trailed off as your eyes filled with tears. “Umm, this place is the only thing I have left of them, you know? Coming here every day, it’s almost like they’re still here. And now that it’s gone I…” You looked down at the picture as hot tears rolled down your face. The emotional breakdown that had been brewing all day was finally bubbling up through the cracks. “Sorry.”

Before you could say anything else, a pair of soft hands wrapped around you and pulled you close. “It’s okay, you can let it all out,” Wanda whispered. That was all it took for you to finally break down. You sobbed into her chest as she held you. She squeezed you close as she gently rocked back and forth, her fingers gently stroking your hair. “You’re okay, Y/N. You’re going to be okay. I’ve got you,” she soothed. Your body was wracked with sobs as you finally let everything go.

Wanda’s touch was calming. You’d never felt so calm or safe wrapped up in someone else’s arms before. You never cried in front of anyone, not even Natasha and she was your best friend. Somehow you knew that Wanda was someone you could trust completely. “I’m sorry that you’re going through this, but you don’t have to go through it alone,” she whispered in your ear as your sobs started to calm. You didn’t have enough control to speak yet so you simply nodded into her chest. Her scent was intoxicating, a combination of sugar, roasted coffee beans, and vanilla blossom shampoo. You never noticed it before.

“Sorry for getting your shirt wet,” you sniffled as you sat up.

“Sorry for throwing a muffin at your head,” Wanda chuckled as she reached up to brush a stray tear from her face. Her hand was incredibly soft as she rested it on your cheek. You felt your face grow hot, but you weren’t sure if it was from the way she was touching you or the lack of distance between your faces or all of the above. The knot in your throat instantly migrated down to your stomach as you locked eyes with her.

“ S’okay,” you mumbled as you lost yourself in her deep green eyes. After staring for a moment too long, you turned your head away and blinked. She shook her head, realizing for herself the tense intimacy of the situation. “What kind of muffins are these?” you asked, quickly changing the subject.

“Honey butter. Pietro found the recipe online and fell in love with them.”

“I can see why,” you responded with your mouth full. “They’re good, but I think mine are just a bit better.”

“Shut up,” she answered with a playful smack.

************************************************

Over the course of the next few weeks, Wanda came over to your bakery almost every day. At first it was just to bring you something from the cafe: a cup of coffee and something sweet in the morning or a sandwich after she closed up for the evening. Her presence soon became a familiar comfort to you and you looked forward to the few moments you spent with her every evening. Daily food deliveries turned into offers to pick up dinner, and you often found yourself sitting up with her until all hours as you ate and continued the arduous rebuilding process. Soon enough Wanda was coming over to help you on her days off.

As you spent more time with her, the way you thought about her changed. You no longer woke up in a cold sweat from nightmares that involved her. Nowadays when you dreamt about her you woke up with an uncomfortable throbbing in your pajama pants. Her smile made you weak at the knees and you craved any opportunity to touch her. She was an incredible woman but you were terrified to tell her how you felt.

Natasha, of course, had noticed the shift in your demeanor towards her. “So do I get to fire you when you sleep with her or are you gonna fire yourself?” she teased one night while you were tearing the tile flooring out of the kitchen.

“Fuck off, Nat,” you answered, not steering your attention away from the floor.

“Don’t pretend like you weren’t drooling over her when she wore those shorts in here the other day. Besides, I see the way you two are when you’re together.”

“She’s just being friendly. She’s like that with you and Sam too, you know.”

“Y/N, she kept staring at your crotch when you wore those grey sweatpants last week. Even if she doesn’t like you, and I’m telling you she does, she still wants to fuck you.”

“Right, yeah,” you guffawed. While you brushed Natasha off, you hoped she was right. You had caught Wanda staring when you wore your grey sweats last week…and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

“You should tell her how you feel. I’m pretty sure she feels the same way.”

“Nat-”

“She’s over there now. Just go talk to her. Ask her out for dinner or something.”

“Nat-”

“Relax, I’ve got everything under control,” she smiled at you. “Go talk to Wanda.”

You groaned as you pushed yourself up from the hard floor. “Fine. But if this all goes wrong I’m blaming it on you!” You wiped your hands on a rag, throwing it at Nat as you headed for the door.

“It won’t!” she called from the kitchen. You shook your head, grinning as you pushed the door open and crossed the street to Latte Love. The store was closed for the evening. Inside, Wanda was cleaning up, wiping down the tables and counter like she did every evening before making her way to The Rolling Scone.

Wanda looked up as she heard the door jingle. Her exhausted face lit up at the sight of you. “Hey you,” she called. “What’s going on?”

“Not much. Just helping Nat rip up the tile in the kitchen. Contractor says he’ll be ready to go by the end of the week for that.” The words felt like cotton balls in your mouth. You never got this flustered around her but the thought of telling Wanda how you truly felt about her had your stomach tied in knots. “How was your day?”

“Good! Pietro left early for an appointment, so it’s just me closing up. I was planning on picking up Indian for dinner. Wanna join me?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. Listen-”

“Oh! I got this call for this INSANE order. This lady wants twelve dozen cupcakes by Sunday. SUNDAY. Can you believe that?!”

“Wanda-”

“I mean of course you can, you’ve been doing this a lot longer than I have. But I mean we’re a coffee shop, not a bakery! I would’ve sent them to you but, well, you know, it’s a little hard to bake cupcakes when you don’t have an oven.”

“Wanda-”

“So I said ‘Sure, why the hell not?’ and I think that was a mistake because-”

“WANDA!” you said a little more aggressively than you intended.

“Yeah?” She threw her hand towel over her shoulder.

“Wanda. I, well, fuck. Sorry, I’m not good at this.” Your hands were all sweaty and your knees felt weak. “Look. What I want to say is, well, for the past few weeks we’ve…spending time with you…fuck! Why is this so hard for me to say?” You ran your fingers through your hair, frustrated that you couldn’t figure out the right words to say.

Wanda’s quizzical look slowly softened into a smile as she started to put the pieces of the puzzle together. She looked down at the ground, biting her lip as she threw the towel on the counter right before she jumped up on it, spun around, and hopped off on the other side. She walked right over to you, stopping less than a foot away as she looked up into your eyes.

“You know, for an emotionally suppressed type of guy, you’re pretty cute when you get all flustered,” she teased.

“Wanda, I-”

Before you could finish your thought, Wanda grabbed your waist, leaned in, and kissed you. Your hands somehow found their way to the back of her neck, palms resting on her cheeks as you cupped her head. Every single coherent thought you had flew out of your brain the second her lips touched yours. They were just as sweet as you imagined they’d be. You smiled into her lips, eternally grateful that she had been the one to initiate this in the first place. She smiled back as you deepened it, capturing her bottom lip between yours. There was no need for talking, no need for any other explanation. The dance between your lips told the entire story: you were hers, and she was yours. The knot in your stomach burst into a million butterflies as every touch ignited a burning sense of desire within you.

“Wanda, I-” you somehow managed to choke out as she began to kiss the side of your neck.

“There’s a couch in the office and the door locks,” she mumbled. Her lips grazed your sensitive skin as she spoke and it took everything in you not to let out an offensive moan.

“Lead the way.” Wanda grabbed your hand and dragged you behind the counter and through the kitchen to the small office in the back of the shop. You slammed the door shut behind you as Wanda pinned you to it, locking the door with one hand before bringing it back up to roam your body. She slammed her lips into yours as you grabbed her hips, pulling her flush against your body. The contact sent a surge of energy through your groin and you knew it would be only a matter of moments before your shorts became unbearably uncomfortable.

You explored her body as you kissed her, tracing over every curve as she moaned into your mouth at the sensual contact. She was heavenly. You decided to change up the intensity of your make out session, swiping your tongue over her lower lip. She willingly opened up and allowed your tongue to explore hers.

Before you realized it, Wanda’s hands made their way down your body to the front of your shorts. She unbuttoned them, stopping right afterwards to palm your throbbing erection. You nibbled on her bottom lip as she fondled you and she smiled into your mouth in response. As she pulled your pants and boxers down, you pulled off your t-shirt and threw it off to the side.

“You’re beautiful,” Wanda whispered as she looked at your naked body for the first time. She ran her hands over your toned biceps, strong and wiry from years of kneading dough, and your pecs, down your toned stomach before reaching your cock. She grabbed it with one hand, stroking it gently as she dropped to her knees.

“Wanda,” you groaned as she worked her hands up and down your shaft. Pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she lined up her mouth with your tip and swallowed the first part of your penis. She swirled her tongue around your tip, coating it in saliva before removing her mouth and using it as lube to jack you off. Your knees felt weak as she took you in her mouth again, bobbing her head up and down your entire length. She sucked and licked and swirled your cock, hollowing her cheeks as she took you down her throat. The noises that came from her mouth as she gagged on your length were sinful, but it only made you want her that much more.

At one point she reached for your hand, placing it on the back of her head. You took that as a sign to do what you wanted, so you moved her head up and down at a speed you liked. You moaned as you felt the familiar fire burning within you, spurred on by the way Wanda’s eyes watered as she let you fuck her throat. She grabbed onto your thighs as you pounded into her, nails digging into your flesh as she looked up at you with those pleading green eyes.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned as Wanda ripped your hand away from her head, bringing her other hand up to jack you off as she sucked on your tip. The sudden suction and added stimulation immediately caused you to tumble over the edge as you released down her throat. She greedily swallowed every last drop. Having her suck you off like that was a life-changing experience.

Wanda sat back on her heels, wiping the drool from her chin as she gasped for air. “Nice cock,” she chuckled. “Hope it feels as good as it tastes.”

“Why don’t we find out?” you teased, offering your hand to her as she stood up. “But I think you’ve got too many clothes on for that.”

“I think we can take care of that,” Wanda smirked, reaching down to pull her shirt over her head. “Want to get my pants?” she asked as she reached behind her to undo her bra.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” you joked as you unbuttoned her jeans. You slid both them and her panties down her legs before she kicked them off. “Wow,” you said, taking a step back to admire her.

“Like what you see, tiger?”

“Wanda, I’m sure you’ve heard this a million times, but you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” Wanda blushed a deep shade of crimson at your words. It wasn’t an exaggeration. She was absolutely gorgeous.

“Thank you,” she whispered sheepishly as she sat on the couch.

You sat down next to her, your eyes darting from one part of her nude figure to the other before you settled back on her lips. Leaning forward, you kissed her as she fell back on the couch. It didn’t take much to shift your position so that you were completely on top of her. You relished the taste of her lips as you kissed and you wanted to savor the sensation of every second.

“Fuck,” you murmured as you reached a hand down between her legs. “You’re absolutely soaked, Wanda.” She whined as you drew a finger up the length of her cunt, teasing around her engorged clit. “You do that to me every day. I go home soaking wet and fuck myself thinking about how good you’d feel inside me.” She bucked her hips against your hand, desperate to relieve the ache building within her. “God, I want you in me so bad, Y/N.”

“Jesus,” you whispered through gritted teeth as your erection swelled at her words. “And here I was trying to figure out how to tell you how the first thing I do every morning is jack off to the thought of you.”

“I guess we both have filthy minds then,” she grinned. Her face was flushed with arousal, the redness spreading down her neck and onto her breasts. “Fuck!” she exclaimed as you dipped a finger ever so slightly inside her before quickly pulling out. “Please just fuck me!”

“You’re cute when you beg,” you sighed as you lined yourself up with her entrance. You teased her with your tip, rubbing it up and down her slit and over her lips and clit before barely pushing your head in. She whined, rolling her hips in a feeble effort to lower herself onto you.

“Y/N please-” Wanda’s words turned into a sharp cry as you slammed your entire length inside her. Her pussy was absolute heaven. She was warm and wet, her slick velvety walls engulfing you and squeezing in all the right places.

“Oh my fucking god,” you croaked. You laid over her for a minute, trying to regroup yourself enough so you wouldn’t immediately blow your load inside her. As she adjusted to your intrusion and you calmed yourself down, you began to roll your hips against her, thrusting in and out.

“Shit,” she gasped. Wanda rolled her hips in time with yours, meeting you as you thrust your length all the way inside her. You continued at a steady pace, the sounds of her wet pussy being the only noise in the room.

“Are you okay?” you asked, noticing Wanda’s eyes were screwed shut.

“Feels really good. Can you go faster?” Not wanting to disappoint, you began to pound into her. Her mouth gaped open at your newfound intensity as she reached up to wrap her arms and legs around you. “Oh fuck, right there.”

The couch shook under the duress of your movements. You pounded into Wanda, her tight hole stretching perfectly around your cock with every thrust. Sweat beaded on your forehead as you grunted from exertion. Your moans and groans, along with the squelching of Wanda’s pussy, filled the room. As you pounded into her cunt, your cock disappearing within her wet folds, Wanda’s moans became louder and more erratic. “You close, baby girl?”

Wanda nodded, wrapping her legs tighter around your midsection. “My clit,” she choked out. You helped her move one of her arms from your back to the sensitive spot. She circled it furiously, a loud groan tearing from her chest. “Faster,” she commanded.

You doubled down on your efforts and hammered into her dripping cunt. The way her walls fluttered and clenched around you told you she wasn’t far away from her orgasm. The way she tightened around you sent that familiar coil through your lower abdomen. It wouldn’t be much longer until you reached your climax as well.

“I’m gonna cum,” she whined. You pounded into her as fast as you could, groaning as your hips slammed against her swollen pussy. Her hand circled her clit furiously. Wanda came with a loud groan, her back arching off the couch as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed down on her. Her walls throbbed and clenched rhythmically around you, the intense sensation finally causing you to cum as you released your thick load of cum deep inside her. Wanda dug her nails deep into your back as you absolutely ruined her.

“Fuck I love you,” you gasped as you collapsed on top of her from sheer exhaustion. Blood pounded in your ears and black dots peppered your vision as you recovered from the best orgasm you ever had.

“You love me?” Wanda asked, her eyes blown wide with desire from the afterglow of her incredible orgasm.

“Shit, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that.” A sense of panic overtook you as you stared down at Wanda.

“No it’s okay. I mean, I feel the same way,” she admitted, smiling back up at you.

“Really?”

“Mmhmm”

You chuckled as you leaned down to kiss her. “Guess I have to quit my job now.”

Wanda looked at you with a confused expression. “What?” she asked as she cocked an eyebrow.

“I told everyone that they’d be fired if they slept with you, so I guess I’ve gotta quit.”

“I love you,” Wanda giggled as she shook her head.

************************************************

“So let me get this straight: we’re merging with Latte Love after you threatened to fire us if we talked to Wanda?” Sam crossed his arms as he sat on the newly reconstructed front counter. You had called the team together to announce the new business venture you were about to embark on.

“Okay first off I only threatened to fire you if you slept with her. Talking to her would’ve resulted in a stern talking to and overnight donut duty for a week. Second, it's not a merger so much as it is a partnership. Both businesses will operate independent of one another, but now we’re going to start carrying some of their baked goods,” you explained. Everyone looked at you in utter disbelief, unable to fathom your sudden shift in the way you viewed Latte Love.

“What changed?” Nat asked, tapping her pen against the table.

“Oh you know…stuff…things,” you murmured sheepishly as your face reddened.

“Oh my god!” Nat’s eyes widened in realization as she stood up. “You slept with her!”

“Dude what?! That’s so -” Peter exclaimed before Sam slapped his hand over his mouth to shut him up. You pinched the bridge of your nose as you looked up at the ceiling. Natasha was laughing at the irony of the whole situation before she lambasted you with questions.

“How long has this been going on? Wait, was it a one time thing? Oh, it was definitely the time I made you go over there to talk to her when we were ripping up the floor. And you told me you two just talked. Talking my ass…Is this a business deal, like sex in exchange for pastries? Are you two a thing? I should’ve guessed with how much time you’ve been spending over there and how you never want to do anything fun with me anymo-”

“Nat, will you please shut up?!” Her endless questions were exasperating. Yes, you and Wanda were in fact a thing but you hadn’t told anyone about it. You hadn’t even told Nat about your back office hookup even though it happened two months ago. There was so much going on with rebuilding the bakery and dealing with insurance claims that you wanted to keep this part of your life private. “I just think it’d be a good idea for both of us, maximize our profits, boost both of our busin-”

“Hey babe, is there any way you can come help me with the rest of the-” Wanda paused as she barged in on your team meeting. “Oh hi guys!”

“Mmhmm, it’s definitely good for both of you,” Nat smirked as she took a sip of her coffee. You shot her a warning look while Wanda stood utterly oblivious to the scene unfolding around her. “Go on, go help your girlfriend with whatever she needs. I’ll show Peter how to do the bagels.”

You smiled at Wanda as you headed toward the door. “So what do you need my help with?”

“Nothing,” Wanda responded as she reached for your hand. “Just wanted to spend some time with my favorite guy.”

“Don’t let Pietro hear you say that.”

“That’s okay, he already knows.” She squeezed your hand reassuringly as you crossed the street.

You smiled as her grip tightened around your hand. Six months ago there was no way to predict that the woman who ruined your life would ultimately become the greatest thing that ever happened to you. As you crossed the threshold from your bakery to her cafe, you were grateful to be able to call The Rolling Scone, Latte Love, and Wanda home.

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aclowntiny · 1 year

Text

Blue Skies- Yeosang x Female!Baker!Reader

Word Count: 2,970 | Fluff | Warnings: none hehe

I have decided to do a coffee shop story for every member because why not 😌 feat. Wooyoung because I can dangit 😈

Sun filtered through the plants that dripped from window boxes, falling gently onto the crown of Yeosang’s head. He strolled gently down the sidewalk, inhaling the scent of spring breeze.

A new café had opened up around the corner from his building, so in one of the windows of free time he received he elected to check it out.

The sign and logo, which featured a blue sky dotted with pink clouds, promised the cozy atmosphere Yeosang expected and received as soon as he walked in, greeted by tables that each had a cute figurine on their center and pastel cushions on all the chairs. There were even couches to sit on and a game table with a sign that read ‘Come Play With Us 🩷’. Yeosang considered sitting there, but no one else was present to play with.

There was much that he expected about the place: open tables, a cute but hip atmosphere, the smell of cappuccino steam rising to greet him…but one thing he did not.

A figure bent serenely behind the surprisingly large bakery case, smoothing out the frosting on the most delicious-looking cake he’d ever seen with a pastry bench, eyelashes fluttering slightly as she worked. The frosting was pure white, enrobing a small round cake that was now getting striped with strawberries, and the woman had a small, calm smile on her face, which focused on placing each one just so. It was just about the most gorgeous sight Yeosang had ever seen; his heart fluttering as he approached the counter. No one else was there- would the baker be the one to take his order, too?

Apparently she would. “I’ll be right with you, sorry! Just finishing up these last few strawberries,” she told him with a small, sheepish but bright smile.

He gave her one right back. “Of course. Take your time.” Sure, the others may have his hide if he’s late for practice, but so what? It was one day. Hongjoong would live.

His eyes kept drifting between the white tile floors and the baker’s fingers deftly, but gently placing their décor around the cake, which was soon slid into the display case next to a chocolate torte and beneath a mouthwatering selection of breads and tartlets.

“D- did you make all of those?” Yeosang blurted out before he could stop himself.

“I did!” Your smile widened into a full-on grin and Yeosang thought he might have a heart attack. “I’m in charge of pastries around here! Well, and drinks right now since my co-barista is on lunch. I’m all finished with the cake now, so what can I make for you today?”

“Um…” It was at that moment that Yeosang realized he had not once looked at the menu. His mind completely blanked, floundering for a moment until… “I’ve never been here, what do you recommend?” Nailed it.

"Well, I suppose that depends on if you like coffee or not. If you don't, my favorite is the London Fog latte, which is earl grey tea with vanilla. If you do, the lavender latte is our specialty and that one is really good too! Very pretty!"

Just like you, Yeosang thought. "Well then, I'd like to try that, please," he actually said, shyly nodding his head as she tapped a few register keys.

"Were you going to be staying here or taking it on the go?"

"Ah," Yeosang rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "I would love to stay but I should take it on the go."

"No problem! Your name?"

"Yeosang."

"What a nice name! I'll have that ready for you soon."

She was that nice to everyone. She had to be.

Yeosang thanked her, taking a seat at a table with a doraemon figurine winking at him. Cute. He didn't want to stare at the baker, whose name tag read (y/n), but his eyes had minds of their own, drifting constantly back over to the humming baker-barista. Eventually, he applied the three rule, counting to three before looking away so he never stared too long.

He was so focused on counting threes that he barely heard his name, practically jumping as (y/n) called him a second time.

"I hope you enjoy your latte, Yeosang!"

His heart flipped. He looked between his to-go cup, topped with lavender-tinted steamed milk poured in a heart shape, (y/n)'s beautiful smile, & that tantalizing bakery case.

"Er, before I go, how much is the cake?"

Just as Yeosang suspected, the boys were placated by free food.

"This is the best cake I've ever had," Mingi sighed, "where did you say you got this again?"

"The new café around the corner. The baker was really nice. She was finishing it up as I came in."

"If she bakes that good," the tall rapper continued, "I wanna marry her."

"She made my drink, too. That was really good. I really liked the atmosphere in there and she was very nice. Really makes you feel welcome."

"Watch out, Mingi, I think Yeosang is going to marry her," Wooyoung teased, sliding over the shining studio floor to claim a cake slice of his own.

Warmth flooded the singer's cheeks. "All I said was I liked Blue Skies."

"Whatever. Keep sweet-talking her and see if you can get some of this for free, huh?" Wooyoung suggested, elbowing Yeosang in the ribs.

"I might go back. I heard the London Fog is good there."

"Uh, oh, someone's baking a love cake!"

Placing the fat piping bag of green icing you'd held back onto the silver decorating table, you cocked a brow at your co-barista, Hakyeon. "Excuse me?"

"Look at you, piping little frogs holding hands on top of your cake. You and who?"

"Maybe I'm trying to get you a girlfriend," you teased, grinning and giggling at the way the tall man crossed his arms at you.

"No way, you're too happy to care that I'm single. What happened?"

Hakyeon stared at you, dark eyes boring into your soul in an attempt at a withering gaze that just made him look like an overgrown kitten. You couldn't take him seriously, bursting out with a laugh.

"See? I knew it."

"Ok, fine, a really cute guy came in yesterday and got a drink and a cake and I'm hoping he comes back and thinks the frog one is cute and maybe, just maybe, I can figure out who he bought a whole entire cake for the first time, especially if he wants a romantic cake."

Hakyeon blinked, stare melting into amusement. "Wow, that's an extremely elaborate substitute for just asking the guy out."

"He's a customer, I can't just-"

A wave of annoyingly well-manicured tan hands. "Yeah, yeah. What's this guy's name, anyway?"

You blushed. "Do I have to tell you everything?"

"I want to know who he is so I can tell if he's an axe murderer or not."

"Fine, his name is Yeosang, and he-"

Ding!

The bell hanging at your door chimed, sending you scrambling to finish your cake's green lattice sides and Hakyeon sauntering to the counter. Before he reached it, he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "When I'm working, I want you sitting at the game table."

"But I have to work-"

"Just do it."

"Only if I'm not working on something. I can't leave stuff in the oven to burn, you know."

A familiar deep voice interrupted your banter, though, sending a happy little shock through your chest. Yeosang was back. And ordering a London Fog, which you remembered mentioning as one of your favorites. You peered at him through your lashes, blushing and practically throwing the frog couple cake into the glass to free up a hand when you saw him wave at you.

"Hi (y/n)," he said softly.

"Hi! Sounds like you're trying tea today?"

He nodded. "You said it was your favorite right? Then I had to try it." Pointing at the display, he let his gaze fall to your latest creation. "That's a cute cake. Did someone order it?"

"No," you shook your head, "I just thought it would be cute if any couples or people with significant others came in."

"I'm sure they'll love it. Could I get some jjinppang today? The guys in my group really loved your cake, too, but I can't spoil them too much."

Suppressing a grin at the evidence your frog cake totally provided you with, thank you very much Hakyeon, you obliged.

Yeosang left, London Fog gripped cutely in both hands as he sighed in curling clouds of steam, and Hakyeon immediately whipped his head your way, chuckling at your own sigh.

"Sheesh, no wonder. Guy must be a model or something. You. Tomorrow. Game table."

All you could do was smile, blush, and shake your head.

True to your-well, Hakyeon's- word, you placed yourself next to the ‘Come Play With Us 🩷’ sign, legs crossed, chin resting in hand, and latte coastered at your side, casually taking a sip as Yeosang walked in again.

“No cake today?”

"I did a sort of plain German chocolate today and decorate-your-own cookies, so I finished early. Wanna play a game?"

He did indeed, challenging you to a really cute cat café-themed dice game, totally creaming you AKA collecting more cats, and icing a decorate-your-own cookie because quote 'the members were being annoying today, so no free food for them'. He drew the cutest little character on his, shocking you when you discovered it was his own creation.

"I wanna put him on a cake!"

"Go ahead," he said with a smile.

Feeling guilty for shirking helping the other Blue Skies customers who ordered pastries, you glanced up at Hakyeon, who simply gave you a cheeky grin and wave. Rolling your eyes, you returned your gaze to Yeosang, who challenged you to a quick card game before he went back to work.

You won, so he claimed he needed to come back to Blue Skies for a rematch. "I- if you're ok with that."

"Of course," you giggled.

"'Favorite game buddy?' Dude, she's totally flirting with you."

"She's nice to every customer. You should have seen the way she laughed and clapped for another person's joke."

"Yeah, but did she draw a hehetmon with a heart on their drink?" Wooyoung asked, hand on his hip.

"She drew a heart in the foam of my first drink last week," Yeosang shot back, making Wooyoung want to take him by the shoulders and shake the forever-singleness out of his handsome friend, "that's, like, the most common latte art there is?"

The worst part was, Yeosang looked genuinely confused by Wooyoung's insinuations. The man was too pure for his own good. That was ok, though. If he wanted to be an angel, Wooyoung was more than happy to play the devil role.

"I don't know why you suddenly want to come to Blue Skies with me," Yeosang questioned with a furrowed brow, long black hair falling onto his forehead, "I've been going for, like, two weeks now."

Because you don't know how to make a move, that's why. Clouds drifted lazily across the sky, faintly obscuring the sun as a breeze ruffled through the planter boxes. The weather wasn't quite as sunny-go-lucky as it had been, as if even the sky knew a scheme was brewing.

"Well, if the lovely, very kind baker isn't flirting with you, then maybe I want some," Wooyoung replied with a wide grin.

"What?" If looks could kill, oh boy would Wooyoung be six feet under. It was like his friend had been taking lessons from Hongjoong or something.

Plans were plans, though. "Why not? She sounds great."

"She's not your type," Yeosang replied a little too quickly, pushing his stray bangs back out of his dark stare.

"Well, I'll be the judge of that," Wooyoung said sweetly as he pushed open the door, head swaying a bit with the tinkling of the cute little bell.

There was a girl behind the counter expertly pouring mirror glaze over some petit fours. She was cute, but definitely not Wooyoung's type. Even better.

"Well hello there," he called out charmingly as the girl smiled and waved, clearly over the moon to see Yeosang.

"Hi! Are you one of the guys from the group Yeosang told me about?"

"Yes, and you must be the baker who made that excellent cake, but I had no idea you were so beautiful," he complimented (y/n), leaning on the counter where she took up her spot by the register.

It took all his willpower to suppress the grin that rose to his face as his whole body was wracked by a hard elbowing and then some to ignore the whisper of "don't be a creep".

"Well, thank you," (y/n) smiled, but her gaze still fluttered back to Yeosang. Oh yeah. Wooyoung could just see the pleading in her eyes. She didn't want this from him.

"I hear you make great lattes, too, which I don't doubt. What do you recommend for someone like me, hm?"

"Weren't you just wanting to get an Americano like usual?" Yeosang cut him off, glancing just as pleadingly at (y/n), who kept up an impressive customer-service poker smile.

"I can do that. If you like it sweet, we do a really good brown sugar one."

Wooyoung fiddled with his collar. "Oh, I do like it sweet."

(y/n) laughed, but it was clearly strained, and her whole body practically melted in relief when Yeosang gave him an 'I don't know this man' glance and ordered a latte extra politely, no rush thank you so much (y/n), practically batting his eyelashes at her.

"Maybe we can have our next cat café match next time, huh?" Emphasis on our.

She didn't look up, but (y/n) accidentally delivered a killing blow. Wooyoung choked back a laugh, disguising it as a cough because holy crap, Yeosang was not going to take that correctly.

"Oh, is Wooyoung not going to be a regular, too?"

"No, I think he's just visiting for now, aren't you?"

Wooyoung flipped his hair back, coyly focusing on studying the Badtz-Maru figurine on the table. "You never know."

"I see," said (y/n), "good to know."

Yeosang's gaze darted between (y/n) and his friend, expression falling into one of defeat. His shining eyes were hard to watch, and in any other situation Wooyoung would have grabbed his hand and given him a hug. But that hug was going to have to wait, as (y/n) was making her way over with their drinks. From what Wooyoung gathered, she didn't usually personally deliver what she made.

She didn't even meet his eyes when she reached the table, looking only between Yeosang and the drink she placed in front of him. Yeosang looked up at her, dumbfounded, as she folded her hands behind her back, dawdling at their table.

She'd drawn a hehetmon on each drink, completely ignoring the fact that Americanos didn't even have milk just so she could splash enough on there to make one stick his tongue out at Wooyoung.

"No heart," he very loudly whispered, giving his dear friend a coy look.

Meanwhile and in stark contrast, atop the other cup, hehetmon peered up at Yeosang with a wide smile and a speech bubble that read 'date?'

Wooyoung had the pleasure of watching years melt off Yeosang's face as his sad puppy look morphed back to pure shock and adoration, a finger pointing at his chest.

"Yes," (y/n) said softly, "you."

"Well," palming the sides of the table, Wooyoung stood up, satisfaction fully lighting his face, "if you'll excuse me, I need to go look for a pastry to get for my brother."

Yeosang's heart melted at the way you looked at him. Him, not the confident flirt that was his most annoying best friend, the guy who was too scared to ask you out.

He couldn't believe such a beautiful girl, someone as kind and talented at making sweet, lovely things, wanted to go on a date with him, but he would thank every cloud in the sky if he had to that you did. As long as you weren't just trying to scare Wooyoung off.

"Really? I mean, yeah, I-"

"Good. Then tell your friend there I'm not interested in him, just in my usual sweet regular," (y/n) replied, voice and smile as kind and honeyed as ever, "ok?"

"You are? You really are?" He asked, dreamy smile involuntarily widening.

You simply nodded, smiling that serene smile you always had on when you frosted a particularly pretty cake. "Of course I am. How could I not be when you've been nothing but kind and fun, huh? You can tell your buddy I said that, too!"

"I will. I'll tell everyone," Yeosang replied before he could stop himself.

Your eyes shone, that beautiful color pulling Yeosang in even more. "I like the sound of that."

You made your way back to the counter, swinging open the little door and stepping back into the kitchen by the pastry case, where Yeosang's friend wandered back and forth, eyes flicking up to meet yours. When he saw you, he grinned sheepishly, pulling out a wad of bills and slinking over to the tip jar, where he dropped them in.

"For putting up with me and finally, for the love of God, getting him that date."

"You're terrible."

"Funny thing, I hear that a lot."

"But thank you," you added, shaking your head in exasperated mirth, "I needed the excuse to not be as creepy as, well you. For a date, and only if you promise to never do that again, I'll give you one of whatever you were looking at on the house."

"I thought you'd never ask."

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #yeosang #yeosang x reader #yeosang x female reader #female reader #fluff #coffee shop au

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slytherhys · 5 months

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12 Days of Christmas - ACOTAR Edition

In the spirit of the Holidays, I will be writing & posting short stories about the ACOTAR characters for the next 12 days. Please note that some will be shorter than others and that this is simply meant to be a fun time for everyone that loves these characters as much as I do!

PS. I'm open to requests.

You can also find this series on AO3 - as well as all my other stories.

8th day of christmas - gingerbread house

CW: Explicit Sexual Content

No Crying Over Spilled Icing (Elriel NSFW)

Elain eyed the gingerbread house in front of her with something akin to misery. Only twenty minutes ago, when she had first taken the dough out of the oven, she had been immensely proud of herself – it had been baked to perfection, neither too dry nor too moist, with a beautiful golden-brown colouring and a smell so sweet Elain had fought herself not to eat the whole thing in one go.

Buttercream had been used to make intricate, delicate patterns on what would be the walls, as well as cute little tiles for the rooftop. Candies, too, had been used aplenty. It had looked promising. Beautiful even.

But that had been before she had realised one of the walls was cut too short – something Elain hadn’t noticed until she started setting everything together – giving the house a sort of crooked, haunted look that made it resemble more a Halloween decoration than a Solstice treat. The icing, of course, hadn’t helped either. The walls barely stuck together, and the rooftop was slowly falling to its demise. Elain watched it all unfold, unblinking.

A great architect Elain did not make.

When she had first told Feyre she’d be bringing her own gingerbread house – and not one of those sets the bakery sold every Solstice – she hadn’t been expecting a building made of dessert to be so damn infuriating. She was set to leave in an hour and a half, and she doubted she had the needed time to try it all over again. She doubted she could find the will to do it in the first place.

“What are you doing?” A deep voice startled her, her eyes finally turning away from the baked mess in front of her.

“A gingerbread house.” If it could be called that. It definitely didn’t look like one.

Azriel tilted his head, eyeing the house with a stoical expression. “Are those the ones from the bakery downtown?” His eyes flickered to hers. “Cassian had mentioned how he wanted to try and build one.”

Elain huffed, suddenly affronted. “Of course not.” Maybe she should have though.

He gave her a sheepish smile. “Right. Dumb question.” He narrowed his eyes, eyeing the eyesore with curiosity. “Why is it…slanted, though?”

“Well, first the icing melted,” She explained, hating the way her voice wavered. “And then the wall on the left was too short.” Azriel nodded along as if she was making perfect sense. “And it smelled really good, so I might’ve eaten one of the windows and now it looks weird.” She dropped her eyes again. “By the cauldron, it’s barely salvageable.”

“Why not just take the side of the roof that’s slipping away? It could probably stand, even if it’d be a little crooked.”

She bristled. “Then it’ll be a gingerbread box.” He gave no indication whatsoever that this information alarmed him. “Az, no one wants to eat a gingerbread box.”

Azriel smirked. As if it were funny. “Calm down, princess.” He looked at the mess in front of them, going around the counter so he could stand by her side. “We can fix this.” He said, and Elain watched from the corner of her eyes as he came to stand right behind her instead, his arms going around her as he reached for the gingerbread in front of her.

“What are you doing?” She gasped.

“Why, helping you, of course.”

She highly doubted he was that innocent. His scent surrounded her, the heat from his body resting upon her skin as a gentle caress. It was all Elain could do to keep her eyes open, to follow his hands as he gently studied her creation. She could hear his steady breathing, quickly realising just how close he was to her. His lips were by her ear, his front pressing against her back every so often.

“Maybe we could do a tent instead?”

Elain frowned at the suggestion. It could work, even if it felt lazy to do so. She felt his hands on her hips, caressing her as she mumbled, “I suppose so.”

He seemed pleased by her quick acceptance, the feeling of his lips so faint against her skin, it was nearly unnoticeable. “Or just accept the defeat and do something else instead.”

Elain hadn’t realized she had closed her eyes, but at the sound of his lewd proposal, she snapped them open, promptly stepping closer to the counter and stepping away from him. “You’re distracting me.”

“Am I?” He stepped closer once again, pressing his nose against her neck, his lips a breath away from touching her fevered skin. “You smell good.”

Elain nearly whimpered “That’s just the gingerbread.”

He pressed his mouth against her shoulder, nibbling softly as if he couldn’t help but taste her. “I’m pretty sure it’s you.”

She turned around, ignoring her erratic breathing. “I still need to bake another batch-” She gasped as she felt his hands on her waist, raising her so she was sitting on the counter before she could finish her sentence. “Azriel, we don’t have enough time for that.” Truth be told, she was doing very little to push him away.

Azriel, of course, noticed that as well.

“I think we have more than enough time, princess.” He said, voice raspy as he stepped even closer. Elain wasn’t sure where her body ended and where his began, but as he kissed her jaw, the corner of her mouth, it felt like the most urgent thing that he stepped even closer.

Elain nearly whimpered as he pulled away, panting as he grabbed the hem of her skirts, pulling them up at an agonising speed.

Elain, however, wasn’t to be deterred. “Someone’s cocky.” She said, far too breathy for it to mean much.

He raised an eyebrow, scarred hands trailing up her legs. “Is that a challenge princess?”

Elain ignored the goosebumps raising all over her skin, ignored the craving that seemed to throb with her every heartbeat. “If you’re up for it.”

“Let’s find out, shall we?” A smirk was all the warning she got before Azriel pressed his face between her legs. Elain cried out, mindless with want. Her legs quickly wrapped around his shoulders, pressing him closer to her at the first touch of his tongue against her center. She was vaguely aware of leaning back on her hands, accidentally spilling what remained of the icing on the counter.

She couldn’t bring herself to care – she reached for his hair with her other hand, moaning as he devoured her. He moaned her name against her core as if he couldn’t get enough of her. He was a man starved, licking her, and fucking her with his tongue as if this was both the first and the last time he ever got to do this. The feeling of his large, scarred hands pulling her thighs apart, the scratch of his beard against her sensitive skin, it was all too much. Azriel had barely pushed a finger inside her before Elain was tumbling over the edge, his name on her lips as she bucked against his mouth over and over and over again.

“Sweetest fucking thing in the world.” He growled, more to himself than to her. He was panting, eyes dark as he took her in. She probably looked like a mess, panting, hands covered in icing, legs opened in a lewd display of her arousal. Elain felt herself blush under his scrutiny, but any embarrassment quickly faded as he took her mouth, his tongue seeking hers. “Turn around, princess.” He mumbled against her lips, helping her get down from the counter before lightly slapping her ass. “We’re on a schedule.”

Funnily enough, that was the furthest thing from her mind. Nothing mattered – not the party, not the spilled icing, not even the gingerbread house that had somehow ended up splattered on the kitchen floor. There was nothing but him. Not as he pushed inside her, his length stretching her as if it were their very first time together. Her every nerve-ending was on fire, her body craving him even as he filled her again and again. There were only the sounds he made as he rutted into her, the gentleness in his hands as he pulled her by her hair, the wantonness in the way he kissed her.

“You’re making such a mess, princess.” He panted against her ear, pulling down her corset, his hands quickly grabbing into her bare tits.

“Please.”

“Are you close?” Elain could do nothing but nod. He had barely pulled out of her when she was being turned around, her eyes quickly finding his as he pushed back inside in one swift move, as if he had never left. “I need to see you when you come.” And then he was wrapping her leg over his hip, filling her even deeper.

He wrapped his lips around her nipple, nibbling on the sensitive skin as his cock kept pounding into her. The feel of his mouth, of his cock… All Elain could do was scream out his name as she crashed, coming around his cock just as he spilled into her.

“Fuck.” He panted, hips still bucking against her.

Elain giggled, high on his touch. “Think I still have time to bake something?” She asked, shamelessly pressing her lips to his chest, his throat, his lips, taking them between her teeth and pulling gently. He hissed.

“Not if you keep doing that.” His gaze roved over her before finally settling on her eyes with a mischievous glint. “And I don’t think that gingerbread cake is salvageable anymore.”

Elain supposed not, but she wasn’t a quitter.

In no time – and with a lot of effort – Elain was kicking Azriel out of the kitchen, scrubbing every nook and cranny of the counter and busying herself with something else. Something quick that wouldn’t raise any eyebrows.

Or so she had hoped.

“Where’s the gingerbread house?” Feyre asked only a few minutes later, eyeing the plain gingerbread cookies Elain had managed to bake in the measly thirty minutes she had been left with. Azriel, at Feyre’s question, gave Elain a heated stare, a smirk blooming on his lips as he casually strolled into the living room without a care in the world. Elain felt her cheeks heat up, pointedly ignoring her sister’s knowing smile. “Had a change of heart?”

Elain cleared her throat, squaring her shoulders as she made her way to the kitchen. “Sure,” she said. “let’s call it that.”

#elriel #pro elriel #elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel #pro elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #christmas fic #gingerbread house #feyre archeron #12 days of christmas acotar edition #christmas stories #christmas #happy solstice #christmas prompts #my writing

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abiiors · 7 months

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meet cute 🧡 // ross macdonald x reader

promptober '23 - day 1

a/n: full disclosure, i wrote this for alex a long time ago based on a story he told. anyway i'm so excited to do this eeeee!!! cw: bad flirting and even worse puns i am so sorry wc: 800

“next please,” the cashier announces as you walk up to the till.

this has been a lazy morning for you as you stand there, bundled up against the chilly october air. your plan for today is a simple one; wake up at a semi-respectable time, get breakfast at your favourite bakery, wander around, and maybe go to the new bookstore that’s just opened up. just take it slow for the day. it isn’t often you get to have these slow days to yourself anyway.

“good morning,” you smile at the cashier, handing her the breakfast sandwich and asking for a cappuccino.

“that would be £5.49, is there anything else i can get you?” she asks.

you look around to see if anything else catches your eye and right there, behind the till are the most adorable cookies you have ever seen! little pumpkins and zombies and witches, you name it.

you point at them, “can i also have one of those ghost cookies, please?”

the voice that comes out, however, is not yours. instead, it’s deep, masculine and rather attractive. you turn to look at the man only to find him already looking at you. just as you suspected—he is gorgeous and has a charming dimple-y smile that is now directed at you. the leather jacket he’s wearing is the perfect kind of vintage that fits him just right. his hair is tied up in a bun, a few strands escaping. it dawns on you then, you have indeed also asked for the cookies—perfectly in sync with this handsome stranger.

he turns back to the cashier in front of him, “wow, you could say they’re selling like ghost cookies,” he finishes with a shit-eating grin, clearly proud of himself.

the poor cashier just looks so confused that you can’t help the laugh that escapes you. it’s such a bad joke really, the fact that you laughed at it says more about you than him. but you can’t help yourself.

“glad to see someone appreciates my humour,” he smiles widely at you again.

“well…i wouldn’t exactly call it humour,” you tease back as you finish paying for your food.

“well, got you to laugh though, didn’t i?” he flirts back.

just as you are about to leave the store, he hurries after you. on the one hand, you could forget about this cheeky little interaction with a hot stranger or you could see where it goes. before you have the chance to overthink that, he stops in front of you.

“i’m ross,” he smiles, a hint of shyness quite clear on his face even when he properly towers over you.

you bite your lip to keep your grin under control, coyly letting your name slip. if it were even possible, ross smiles wider.

“and just so you know,” you continue, “i was laughing at the poor cashier’s face.” your tone is light enough that he knows you’re teasing. you laugh when he responds with an over-exaggerated sad face.

you both step outside the bakery, the chilly october air nipping at your cheeks. the warmth of the cappuccino cup in your hand is a comforting contrast. ross looks around, a little pink from the cold air, a little hesitant just like you are.

“so i guess i—”

“i was just planning on wandering around town by myself,” you look away, a bit mortified when you realise you’ve interrupted him. he was probably about to say goodbye and go on his own way. a little voice in your head groans at you, reminding you that not everyone is as free as you are today.

“oh my god i’m so sorry. i’m sure you’re busy, sorry, i just assumed. forget i—”

“not a ghost of a chance,” ross interrupts your rambling, face splitting into a shit-eating grin one again—clearly proud of his terrible pun.

it’s so bad, you should be groaning at it and rolling your eyes. instead, it makes you giggle.

“i would love to join you if that’s what you were offering,” he smiles again. it reaches his warm, hazel eyes, making them crinkle at the sides.

“i don’t know what your plans were… but, yeah, i wanted to check out this bookstore?”

“a reader,” he nods appreciatively, walking alongside you and sipping from his coffee. you turn to study his profile. he’s tall and handsome and exactly like someone from a romance movie. seems impossible that a day that started out as a casual saturday is turning out into something purely out of fiction.

“i try,” you hum, taking a bite of your ghost cookies. they’re delicious—sweet and crumbly and buttery. ross laughs when you involuntarily let out a moan.

“sounds like i made a great decision,” he winks, digging inside the paper bag to fish out his own—a little jack-o-lantern.

“sounds like you did,” you respond, happily taking a second bite.

lemme know what you think <33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855 @beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy @sierraeslaprincesa @harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet @thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername @celestcies @sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu

add yourself to the taglist

#promptober75 #the 1975 #ross macdonald #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald x you #ross x reader #ross x you #ross macdonald fluff #the 1975 fluff #fluff writing #meet cute #matty healy #george daniel #adam hann

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toastyeverlark · 1 year

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“So, how’s it working out with Peeta?”

Katniss doesn’t turn to look, and instead continues trimming the delphiniums in the garden.

“It’s going great. He’s very good to me.”

Katniss cringes upon hearing the soles of Ines’ shoes crush against the freshly-mown grass.

“Peeta’s good to everyone, though,” Ines grins like a cat.

“And he should be. Isn’t it just something a decent human being should be doing?”

Ines digs her foot into the grass. “Of course it is. What I mean is, you’re not all that special to him, Katniss Everdeen. This marriage will end sooner or later, and it’ll be Peeta who instigates it.”

“And you’re quite a pathetic attention-seeker, aren’t you?” Katniss drops the pair of shears and turns to face her.

“You don’t know anything about Peeta Mellark, do you?” Ines trails around the garden, her every step aggressive and rough as her shoes dig into the ground, causing striking damage to the greenery.

“You don’t know that he doesn’t take sugar in his tea,” Ines stops to pluck a flower from a bush. Katniss had just prepared him a cup of tea with a whole pack of sugar in it a couple of days ago, which he had finished without a drop left in the cup.

“You don’t know that he likes to sleep with the windows open,” Ines tosses the flower behind her. Katniss had asked on their first night together if it was alright for the windows to be shut, and he had told her he liked sleeping with the windows shut as well.

“You don’t know anything,” Ines looks at Katniss in the eye, “You don’t know anything because you didn’t grow up with him, you two aren’t meant to be together, and this whole marriage of yours is just a miserable twist of fate.”

Katniss glares at her without a word, her fists clenched.

Ines, satisfied with her reaction, twirls around and walks away as if nothing had happened.

Katniss picks up the shears and goes back to trimming the delphiniums, and somehow it gives her some sort of comfort, but not for long. A tear rolls down her cheek.

Katniss doesn’t even notice that the front door’s been opened and shut. She doesn’t even notice when Peeta announces his arrival while kicking off his socks and shoes at the door.

She sits sullenly on the floor of their bedroom, staring at a spot on the wall.

“Katniss?” Peeta lightly taps her shoulder, which startles her. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you okay?”

“Oh, uh yeah, yeah. I’m fine. How’s the bakery today?”

“I brought back your favourite. Let’s have it in the kitchen,” he smiles and helps her up and leads her to the kitchen table, where a delicious-smelling loaf of raisin-and-nut bread sat.

“I had some spare time today, so I decided to make this for you since you haven’t had it in a while. It’s just the way you like it,” Peeta says as he slices the loaf into pieces with a knife.

He places a slice on her plate, “Have it while it’s warm. I ran home from the bakery just so it wouldn’t cool.”

“Thank you, Peeta,” Katniss takes a bite and breaks out into a grin. “You never disappoint.”

Peeta observes her quietly as he eats his own slice. Normally, she would be telling him about her day and rave about how she was getting better at managing the garden, something she never imagined she would be able to do.

For some reason, the crumb of bread on the table is seemingly more interesting to Katniss tonight.

“Peeta?”

“Hm?”

“I didn’t realise you like your tea without sugar.”

He stares at her, surprised. “It’s fine. I like it both ways actually.”

“You could’ve told me the other day when I dumped a whole pack of sugar into your tea, you know.”

Peeta laughs. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not that important whether I have sugar in my tea or not. You prepared it for me, and that’s all that matters.”

Katniss sighs. “You didn’t tell me you like to sleep with the windows open either. This isn’t how it’s supposed to work, you know. It’s supposed to be me and you. Not just me.”

Peeta smiles, and pulls her chair towards him. He takes her hands and massages them gently.

“I want it to be just you.”

“We’re in an arranged marriage, Peeta. It’s not like the movies, it doesn’t always work out. I don’t know much about you, I’ve never really done anything for you. You’ve been the one doing everything for me. And for some reason, you seem to know me so well with everything that you do.”

“Katniss,” he looks down at her hands and then her face. “Why do you think that of yourself? Just because Ines tells you that you don’t know about my preference to sleep with the windows open and to have no sugar in my tea, you think this relationship is doomed? Why haven’t you thought about how you decided to learn gardening because I told you that I like gardening? Why haven’t you thought about how you always save the best parts of the game you hunt for me? I’m still learning about you, Katniss, I’m still finding more parts of you to love everyday, as if there isn’t enough to love about you already. I know you’re doing the same.”

He reaches out to hold her face and pulls her in for a long kiss.

“Okay?”

Katniss nods with an embarrassed smile, her cheeks red and her head dizzy.

“How did you know about Ines?”

Peeta snorts. “I guessed that she’s been trying to give you some ideas. Ines has always been annoying, even when we were kids. I hoped that she would grow out of it, but I guess some people are just like that forever.”

Katniss chuckles. “Shall we sleep with the windows open tonight?”

“Katniss.”

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlark drabble #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #katniss x peeta #the hunger games #FINALLY A DRABBLE AFTER FOREVER HOPE YOU LIKE IT GUYS my inspiration will probably dry again help

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gauloiseblue · 1 month

Text

Hearsay

Though he made the same mistake twice, he soon knew her name through other people's mouth

The town's people seem to take interest in her, as well as him. Whenever he walks through the market, one or two people will stop him, either to ask him about himself, or introduce themselves to him

It was nice and casual, until he told them where he lives

It's a wonder how people's face change when they hear it, and how her name immediately rolls out of their mouth, as if they're all under the same spell

Though he promised not to find out about her, he couldn't help it when people talk about her to an extent

"She's very strange, she doesn't talk too much either about herself."

"That girl is surely pretty. Pretty and mysterious. The kind of woman that mothers tell their sons to stay away from, don't you think?"

"She's a witch, I saw her feeding a black cat everyday, it must be her familiar."

"I think she's a mistress of some gang leader, or a politician. Have you look what's inside her house? You should, and you'll agree with me on this."

She's very kind, she bought my son a huge toy, telling me that it's rare for someone to like… what's that toy's name? Lego. She said it's rare for someone to like it."

"I heard she bought a bull for the cowman down the road, that's why the old man refuses any payments from her."

"She's up to no good. Did you know that she hired a young man to work in her garden? Oh, poor boy, he didn't know he'd get eaten by her."

"She's very misunderstood. Me and my husband almost closed our bakery because we couldn't manage our debt really well, but she helped us when I told her that. She didn't ask for anything, but people kept telling me that she's gonna take my husband. She's not! She just likes our bread. But people wouldn't listen. And because of that, she rarely visited us anymore."

"Oh?" He commented, "Have you talked about it to her?"

"Yes, I told her everything, I even told her that no matter what, I'd trust her more, but she dismissed me, telling me it's not wise." Her face heated up as she spoke, "You might think that I'm a fool, but sir, I can see people's heart. She's very kind, but she's lonely. I think she's been distrustful towards other people for so long, that's why she seems strange."

"Well, she does seem to be in her own world."

"But she's very kind, sir. I can assure you that. I hope you'll see it someday, because I think she really needs a friend."

He smiles, "She already has it. A good friend, in fact."

"Oh." She blushes at his words, "I'm not a good friend sir, I can't even defend her in front of people."

"But you did change my perspective on her." He told her, "I think that's enough proof."

"I'm glad if you do, sir." She smiles, which lets her innocence shine through, "Oh! If it doesn't bother you, sir," She then fumbles on the paper bag and puts a loaf of sourdough and other breads inside, "Do you mind if you give it to her? I know she's been baking her own bread now, but I want to give her something."

"Sure, I'll send your regards to her."

It seems to lighten her mood, and she shouts 'hope you'll come again sir' when he leaves

On his way out of the market, he replays most of his conversations in his head. Even though it's all just gossips, there should be a grain of truth in it, and it tickles him with the fact that he can easily find out about it

After 15 minutes of walking, he catches the sight of her home. It does look mythical from far, maybe that's the reason why the kids in town called her a witch

To his surprise, she opens the door when he knocks. She narrows her eyes when she sees his face

"You've visited my house three times in a row, do you like me that much?"

"Maybe I do." He gives her his smile, "Went to town today, someone from the bakery asked me to deliver this to you."

She picks up the paper bag from him, and furrows her brows when she sees the content

"Oh no… I just made bread today."

"You can always have room for one more."

"No, sourdough won't last that long." She said, "... Guess I have to give it away."

"Give it to me, then."

She eyes him and the paper bag in his hand, "Didn't you already buy one?"

"I always welcome free foods."

She looks at him, before chuckling, "So you're that kind of people." She said, stepping aside, "Come in then."

He takes the offer gladly

The inside of her house is as enchanting as the outside, with statues, colorful rugs, and artworks scattered around the room, making it almost like a museum

The kitchen is also the same, with different kinds of plates and mugs. The gramophone sits on top of the island, playing a familiar song

"You like Prince?"

"I do." She said while checking the oven, "You know him?"

"Big fan of him."

"I didn't take you as someone who likes Prince."

"What's your take on me then?"

"You like metal."

"I do like them."

"That's good." She takes her eyes off the oven, "5 more minutes, and it's done. Have you had breakfast?"

"Not yet."

"Does smoked salmon sandwich sound good?"

"Absolutely."

She pulls the ingredients and the plate, and cuts 2 slices of the baker's bread, lightly toasts them, before assembling the rest of it on top of the bread. He winces when she spreads the cream cheese on top of them, but he knows he has no right to complain

There's a change in her demeanor, as if she's no longer cold around him. Or maybe that's just his pride talking

"Here you go." She pushes the plate toward him, "Hope it's to your liking."

Which, surprisingly, it is. The cream balances the saltiness of the smoked salmon, and the leaves (he has no idea what those are) on top of it gives a slight bitter, but refreshing taste.

She takes the bread from the oven, and put it on a rack to cool it down

While he eats, he watches her unpack the bread from her friend

"She's too generous."

"Who?"

"Liv." She sighs, "I can't possibly eat this many breads. She even gives me brioche."

"You can always share it with other people."

"Yeah," She said, "Mr. Harris likes sweet bread."

She begins to wrap the bread with parchment paper, and ties it up. She then stores the rest of it, except for a small bread, of which she gives it to him

"Liv's brioche is good, you'll come to like it." She told him as she put it in the paper bag, along with her bread

"Thanks a lot, (name)."

"So you've learnt my name."

"Can't help it, everyone in town talks about you."

"Guess it's inevitable then."

Back at home, he unpacks his groceries, along with her bread

Out of curiosity, he slices himself a piece of bread to taste them, and although the sourdough he ate earlier was amazing, something about a handmade bread that makes him warm

Maybe he, too, has been alone for too long

《 Prev | Next 》

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #captain price #john price x reader #price x reader

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lou-struck · 1 year

Text

Lighting the Candle

Dabi x reader

~ Just a little birthday present for our Burnt Boi.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of death and killing, the reader doesn't really think about Dabi being a criminal.

The dry January wind cuts through your layers like a blade, chilling you to the bone as you walk through the darkening streets.

Glancing down at your watch you see it is barely four in the afternoon and it already looks like the sun is about to set. You don’t like how quickly the days go by in the winter, but it’s enough to quicken your pace as you make your way down to the little bakery on the corner.

It’s a place Dabi stops by frequently since the owner's eyesight isn’t sharp enough to recognize him as a wanted man.

Dabi…

He hadn’t told you it was his birthday today, and you don’t think he ever wanted you to find out.

But you did after one drunken night where he let the date slip past his inebriated lips.

It had been on your calendar ever since tugging at your heartstrings. No one should have to spend their birthday alone, even if they are a Villian…

A Hot Villian

By the time you get in, most of the pastry cases are empty. But the old woman behind the counter greets you with a smile nevertheless.

“What can I get you my dear? “ she asks “ it was pretty busy but I still have some sweets.”

“Do you have any cupcakes?” You ask softly, your eyes scanning the case in front of you.

“I have a few left over,” she beams “What’s the occasion?”

You shove your hands into your pockets and glance at the floor, “A Birthday.”

“How exciting, is it yours?”

You shake your head, “I just need one, it’s for my friend. He didn’t tell me it was his birthday today.”

“But you found out anyway, you’re a good friend I can tell.“ she smiles Boxing up two cupcakes even though you only asked for one. She grabs a small package of birthday candles and throws them into the crisp paper to-go bag along with the pastries.

“How much do I owe you?.” your hand goes for your wallet But she shakes her head and hands you the bag.

“Nothing dear, it’s on the house.“ she waves. “Go find that special friend of yours.”

Her comment makes you smile a bit as you step back out onto the street to track down your 'Birthday Boy’

Out of all the disgusting places in the city, Dabi really knows how to choose the worst places to hide. Even the air surrounding the abandoned Motel smells slimy and metallic.

Using the sleeve of your shirt you push open a stubborn metal door to one of the rooms, it creeks open and you step inside.

As the door shuts behind you, the room fills with light from one of Dabi’s blue flames.

“Before you burn me to a crisp, I brought you something.” You call towards the source.

The fire goes out and the villain steps out from behind a wall. His hand still smokes from his flames but he doesn’t flinch, he just stares you down with those brilliant blue eyes of his. “ What are you doing here? “

In response you hold up the bag from the bakery, “Isn’t it obvious?”

”Whatever,” He walks past you and plops down on the torn sofa against the wall.

“You could’ve told me it was your birthday,” you grumble Reaching into the bag, pulling out one of the boxes, and setting it in front of him.

“You found out anyways,” He shrugs looking at the box. “and what’s this?”

“It’s a gift,” you say crossing your arms over your chest. “If you don’t want it, I’ll just take it back.” You reach out for the box but he pulls it closer.

“I’ll keep it.” He relents opening the little lid and revealing the light blue birthday cupcake inside. He takes the sweet out of the box and places it on one of the napkins from the bag.

Apparently, he too knows just how gross his little hideout is.

"I thought so," you smirk taking out a treat of your own. The little packet of candles still sits in the bag.

“Isn’t this festive? “He chuckles dryly, raising his finger to his lips and licking a bit of frosting from it.

“Stop that.” You say quickly batting his hand, his brow twitches but he doesn’t do anything. Even though he easily could kill you at any moment.

“Did you just hit me?” He smirks glancing down at his hand. Just above the charred skin, a little pink welt appears where you smacked him.

“Maybe," You glance around nervously, “We have to light the candle before you eat.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s a tradition,” you huff, taking one of the multicolored birthday candles out of the package and placing it in the center of his cupcake.

“If you start singing, I’m throwing you out.” He says staring down at the unlit candle.

“Gotcha, no singing.” You mumble, looking in the bag for any matches to light it with. “hey, you don’t happen to have a lighter do you?”

“Are you fucking serious?” He asks engulfing the tip of his finger in blue flame.

You feel a bit stupid as he lights the candle with his quirk. The flame begins to melt the wax as Dabi takes hold of the cupcake, and blows it out before the hot flame melts the entire candle.

“Can I eat it now? “He mocks, tossing the wax aside and taking a greedy bite of the treat.

As you bite into your own cupcake, you now understand why he likes that bakery so much. Even at the end of the day, the cake tasted fresh and the frosting creamy.

“That’s good,” you sigh setting the cake on a napkin.

“You got some frosting on your face. “He says between bites.

Feeling around on your face, you don’t find the frosting. “Where is it? Did I get it?”

“Stop that, It’s my birthday isn’t it?” He sighs, putting his cupcake down and turning towards you. “ Since you didn’t let me take care of my own, I have to return the favor.”

With a shrug, you grab a fresh napkin from the pile to hand to him. But as you turn to face him again, he locks his lips onto your own. The feeling of his warm skin against yours is dizzying, and for a moment you don’t feel like you’re in a shitty motel, you feel like you have just been handed a golden keycard to a five-star resort.

Pulling back, he licks his lips and smirks at you “There we go, I think I got it all.“

You want to think of some snide comment or a sarcastic remark, but you can’t. You feel like his quirk has burnt up all the brain cells inside that pretty little head of yours.

“Hmmm, if I knew that’s what it took to make you shut up, I'd do it more often.” He snickers taking a bite of your own cupcake as you try to find the words to ask him for another.

With a deep breath, you clear your head of the hot nothingness that had taken up residence. “There was no frosting, was there?” you grin meeting his eyes.

“Not this time.”

#dabi x reader #touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #dabi fluff #touya fluff #bnha fluff #mha fluff #my hero academia #bnha

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azsazz · 2 years

Text

Just One More Taste

Eris x Reader

Summary: You have a rush order on a wedding cake and a mischievous heir waltzes into your bakery for a little treat.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,528

_________________________________________

The chime of the bell you’d hung inside the door to your bakery alerted your attention from where you were working tirelessly on decorating a cake for a high fae wedding set to happen in just two days time.

It was a rush order, and you had never been one to say no to someone in need. Especially when it was one of your best friends.

You weren’t originally set to make the dessert, as you often focused your talent for baking on smaller pastries to stock the front of your store, but when the other baker had fallen through and she’d come in with tears streaming down her face and begging you to help her out, you couldn’t say no if you tried.

Stepping back to admire the intricate piping job you had already spent near three hours on, you call over your shoulder, “Be there in a minute!”

There was still so much to be done before it would be perfect. Your friend had given you no specifications, so grateful for your help that even it if the design was as simple as a layer of dirty icing and a few fake flowers she would be happy. But you wouldn’t let your friend cut into a boring cake on her wedding day, and to one of the High Lord’s sons at that.

It was an honor in its own way, for a lot of people would get to see your work, and then maybe you’d be able to make and decorate larger cakes instead of selling in your quaint little shop in town. If business picked up, surely you’d be able to hire on someone to run the front of the shop.

You place the icing bag down on the counter, eyeing the bowl as you wipe your hands on your apron. You’ll have to make another batch and start on the chocolate flowers by tonight if you want to stay on schedule.

You had thought about keeping your storefront closed while you worked on the cake for your friend but decided against it, as you knew you’d need a break from the tedious work as to stay calm.

And maybe you were hoping a certain Autumn Heir would stop in.

Eris had been known to stop by your shop every once in a while, and you couldn’t help but wonder every time he left when the next time you see him would be. He was gloriously handsome with his deep auburn hair and smoldering gaze, dressed to the nines as all royals were.

And as you popped around the corner and into the storefront you couldn’t control the smile that made its way to your face, your wish coming true.

He stood casually against the counter, peeking through the case to all of the pastries you offered, though you know he’s going to order the same thing that he always does.

“Sorry for the wait, Lord,” you apologize, cheeks flushing when your nervous fingers play with the hem of your dirty apron, embarrassed you hadn’t taken it off.

His warm eyes and smile have the feeling melting away. Even if he greets everyone like this, you were lucky to be one of them, and couldn’t seem to get his handsome face out of your mind.

“No need to apologize, (Y/N),” he studies you and you find yourself looking away, reaching for a sheet of parchment so you can gather his treat to go. “And how many times have I told you to call me Eris?”

Indeed, after the third or fourth time he found himself in your shop chatting with you while he waited for the fresh cinnamon rolls to come out of the oven, he had insisted you call him by his name.

“Apologies, Eris,” you respond, giving in to his request. You pull open the back of the pastry case, “Another cinnamon roll?”

His smirk makes your knees weak, “You know me so well. For here this time, if you would be so kind. I’m tired of hearing about the inner workings of my little brother’s wedding. No, the flower arrangements should look like this, this person can’t sit at that table because of this reason, where is Foxe, he’s supposed to be helping! All nonsense if you ask me.”

You crack a smile at his complaints, placing the largest cinnamon roll in the case onto the plate, then taking it to the ovens in the back to warm it for him while you respond, “Are you not one to marry?”

You can’t see the longing look after you and the worry that flashes through him from your words.

He replies quickly, “Of course I’d like to marry, but if I were to have a wedding of my own it would be small and intimate.”

And that’s what you enjoy about Eris. He wasn’t as flashy as some of the other royals of Prythian. He didn’t flaunt his wealth and he wasn’t a terrible old ruler like his father was. You would quite like to see the young Autumn Heir step into the High Lord role.

“Me too,” you confess, walking back into the front with the warmed plate. You set it on the counter before him but tsk when he reaches for it, “One second.”

You open the dessert cabinet again, pulling out the bag of extra icing you had from this mornings batch. Eris watches you with a warm heart as you add more of the delicious frosting to the top of the roll, it melting all around the dessert in the most appealing way.

“There you are,” you beam, sliding the plate closer now for him to take.

He studies you for a moment and you become nervous under his soft gaze. “What, is there something on my face?”

His laugh ignites the fire within you, warming you thoroughly. “No, no, you don’t have anything on your face,” he chuckles, placing a hand on the plate before him, “It’s just…will you be attending my brothers wedding?”

“If I haven’t keeled over from exhaustion,” you joke, tossing a glare over your shoulder to the cake on the counter in the kitchen, “I’ve still got a lot of decorating to do.”

“We’ll maybe if you didn’t have the shop open you could focus on doing just that,” he comments, taking a bite of the sweet treat and you find your eyes following the drop of sticky icing as it rolls down his finger.

“Maybe I like the distraction,” you respond, leaning against the counter and holding his gaze.

His chewing slows and his eyebrows raise slightly, “Is that so?”

You hum, neither confirming or denying, turning to make your way back to your abandoned piping bag in the back. “You enjoy that, Eris,” you say over your shoulder where he’s still watching you, intrigued.

You hear the snick of the lock turning and Eris ambles into the kitchen, plate in one hand and a stool in the other. You watch with furrowed brows as he sets the chair at the counter, digging into his treat like he’s done this a thousand times before.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

He peeks up at you with wide eyes, “Oh, I thought you could use the company.”

You try to stifle your smile at how innocent he looks, “Don’t you have to help with your brother’s wedding?” You ask, grabbing the empty icing bowl to make a new batch.

He shrugs in his seat, licking his lips from the icy remnants and he smirks when he catches you following the movement, your cheeks heating up in response. “This is considered helping, I think.”

“Not if you’re not actually helping,” you sing–song, dumping the dirty utensils into the sudsy water to wash.

He appears beside you in an instant, offering you the last bite of the cinnamon roll. It’s the gooey center and you haven’t eaten anything since before you came in so you let yourself indulge, leaning down to bite into it.

In a moment of pure confidence you let your tongue sweep over the stray icing like he had hoped you would, the brush of your tongue hot against his skin, warmth bubbling within him as you stare directly at him through your lowered lashes.

He swallows harshly and takes a slow, steadying breath instead, trying to control the wicked thoughts swimming through his head.

“Just tell me what to do,” he breathes and it’s clear, the tension between the two of you, and as much as you’d like to continue whatever this is, the large half bare cake from the corner of your eye is taunting you.

You sigh, the first to turn away, dipping your hands into the soapy water to wash the utensils. You pause for a moment when his slide in next to yours, grabbing a bowl and cloth, set out to clean.

“Eris, you don’t-”

“I want to,” he shushes you, and you let him, “Besides, this is way better than doing whatever they’d be making me do back home.”

And as you stand shoulder to shoulder with the son of autumn, you can’t help but to smile.

#Eris #eris x reader #eris/reader #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #acotar #acomar #acowar #acomaf #acotarxreader #autumn court #azsazz

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