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elia-the-bibliophile · 5 days

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Flavors of Fate (Max Verstappen x Female Reader)

Genre: Fluff Word count: 3,1k

Recently laid-off chef, Y/N, unexpectedly meets F1 racer Max Verstappen during a late night beer run. As Heinekens flow and culinary tales are exchanged, sparks ignite in the most unexpected of places. But just when Y/N thinks life can't get any more surprising, Max presents her with a proposition of a lifetime.

In the bustling heart of Monte Carlo, the rich aroma of sizzling spices and savory meats permeated the air, mingling with the lively chatter of diners and the rhythmic clinking of silverware. Y/N, a spirited chef, commanded the kitchen of “Casa del Sazón,” one of the city's trendiest Mexican restaurants. However, her world was about to be turned upside down.

It was supposed to be like any other night, certainly a pretty average day at first. Y/N navigates the controlled chaos with finesse, her apron adorned with the vibrant colors of her culinary creations. Suddenly, her boss strides into the kitchen with a grave expression etched upon his face. “Y/N, can I have a word?”

Y/N pauses mid-stir, concerned at the serious tone in her boss's voice. “Sure, what's up?”

She saw him taking a deep breath before continuing, “I'm afraid I have some bad news. Due to financial constraints, we have to make some cutbacks, and unfortunately, your position is one of them.”

Y/N's heart sinks as the weight of his words settle upon her. This kitchen had been her sanctuary, her canvas, where she painted with flavors and spices, infusing each dish with her passion for Mexican cuisine.

Her lips curl into a disbelieving scoff. “You must be joking,” she mutters, her voice tinged with a mixture of bewilderment and frustration. “I mean, seriously? I'm the backbone of this kitchen!”

With a swift motion, she reaches out to turn off the stove, the flames extinguishing under her command as if echoing her simmering anger.

Her boss's demeanor softens with empathy, his expression reflecting the weight of the situation. “I know this is hard to hear, Y/N,” he begins, his voice carrying the burden of the decision he's been forced to make. “But in times like these, tough decisions have to be made for the survival of the business.”

Y/N's eyes narrow in response, she meets his gaze with a steely resolve. “Survival of the business, huh?” she retorts, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Well, good luck surviving without me, then.”

She folds her arms across her chest, a defiant stance against the unfairness of it all. “Just remember,” she adds, her voice dripping with sass, “when this place goes down in flames without me, don't come crawling back asking for my recipes. You'll have to figure out how to make your own mediocre tacos.”

Y/N's hands move with purpose as she swiftly gathers her belongings, her apron discarded with a frustrated toss onto the nearest countertop. The once vibrant kitchen now hums with tension, the air thick with the weight of impending change as the other kitchen staffs glance nervously at each other.

As Y/N moves to leave, her boss, panic evident in his voice, steps forward in a desperate attempt to salvage what remains of the evening's service. “Y/N, can't you just finish your shift tonight? It's just one last night,” he pleads, his eyes beseeching her to reconsider.

Y/N halts in her tracks, her gaze locking onto his. “Oh, hell no,” she replies, her voice dripping with venom. “I've had enough of this circus. I'm out.”

With a dismissive wave, she brushes past him, her footsteps echoing against the tiled floor as she makes her exit. The boss's pleas fall on deaf ears as she strides out of the kitchen, leaving behind a wake of uncertainty and a boss grappling with the consequences of his decisions.

__________________________________________

Y/N storms out of the restaurant, her frustration visible with each brisk step she takes. Swearing a colorful string of curses under her breath, she heads straight for her regular liquor store. She definitely wants to forget what just happened. And nothing makes her happier than some good beers.

As she enters, the familiar jingle of the bell announces her arrival, chiming merrily in contrast to her sour mood. She’s met with the welcoming smile of Shay, the cashier she's come to know all too well from her frequent beer runs.

“Gimme all the beer you got,” Y/N grumbles, her tone laced with frustration.

Shay chuckles knowingly, leaning against the counter with a sympathetic look. “Rough day, huh? Sorry, hon, but we're fresh out of Heineken.”

Y/N's shoulders slump in disappointment, but Shay's next words lifted her spirit immediately. “But hey, there's another store just down the road that might have what you're looking for. They always keep a good stock of imported beers.”

Y/N's face lights up, relief washing over her. “You're a lifesaver, Shay!” She then blew her a kiss before looking for that store that Shay mentioned.

__________________________________________

Max reaches for the last pack of Heineken, his fingers closing around the cool, familiar shape of the bottles. It's been a long day at the Energy Station, and he's been looking forward to a quiet night in, just him and a cold beer.

As he makes his way towards the cashier, his thoughts already drifting to the comfort of his couch, a woman bursts into the store, her hurried steps echoing through the quiet aisles. She makes a beeline for the cashier, her urgency unmistakable. Max pauses, his curiosity piqued by the sudden commotion. He watches as the woman and the cashier exchange words, their conversation animated and lively, a stark contrast to the tranquility he had anticipated for his evening.

“Apologies, ma'am,” the cashier offers with a sympathetic smile, “—but it appears the last pack has already found a home with that gentleman over there,” he explains, gesturing discreetly towards Max.

He watched her groans in frustration, running a hand through her hair as she tries to come to terms with her string of bad luck. “Seriously? Is there nowhere in this city that has what I'm looking for?” she laments, her voice tinged with exasperation.

Observing the woman's defeated demeanor, Max pieces together her quest for Heinekens. He watches as she wearily settles into an empty chair in the seating area, He can't help but feel a pang of empathy for her obvious disappointment.

After paying for his beers, Max makes a spontaneous decision. With a determined stride, he approaches the woman, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

__________________________________________

The soft glow of overhead lights casts a warm ambiance over the store, lending an air of intimacy to the otherwise mundane surroundings. Y/N sits slumped in her seat, her shoulders sagging, gaze fixed on the floor as she tries to shake off the frustration of her failed beer hunt.

Just as she resigns herself to her fate, a voice breaks through the silence, pulling her from her thoughts. Startled, she looks up to find none other than Max Verstappen standing before her, a friendly smile gracing his features.

“Hey there,” Max greets her, his tone warm and inviting. “I couldn't help but overheard you were in need of some Heinekens. Mind if I share mine with you?” He says, motioning to his pack.

Y/N blinks in surprise, her eyes widening as she recognizes the famous Formula 1 driver standing before her. She can hardly believe her luck as she nods eagerly, a grateful smile spreading across her face.

“Wow, I-I mean, sure! That would be amazing,” she stammers, her cheeks flushing with a mix of disbelief and excitement. “Are you positive? I don’t want to impose.”

Max waves off any notion of inconvenience with a casual shrug, his easygoing demeanor putting Y/N at ease. “Nah, it's no trouble at all. I know how it feels to crave a nice beer,” he reassures her with another grin, genuinely happy to lend a hand.

Taking a seat across from her, Max settles in comfortably, his posture relaxed as he leans back in his chair. The atmosphere around them seems to shift.

With a smooth motion, Max reaches into the pack, retrieving a cold bottle of Heineken and sliding it across the table to Y/N. Her eyes follow his every movement.

As they both crack open their drinks, the sound fills the air with a satisfying echo. Y/N takes a long sip, relishing the refreshing taste of the beer as she savors the moment.

Max then fixed his gaze on Y/N with interest. “So, what's the deal with you?” he asks casually. As if speaking to an old friend.

Y/N chuckles softly, a playful glint dancing in her eyes as she considers his question. “Well, where do I even begin?” she replies, her voice tinged with amusement. “Let's just say today has been a shitshow for me.”

Max's laughter fills the air, a genuine expression of amusement at Y/N's blunt response. Slapping his knees with a grin, he nods in appreciation, recognizing a kindred spirit in her straightforwardness. “I like your style,” he remarks with a chuckle. “I'm a straightforward person myself.”

As he twirls the bottle in his hand, Max leans in with fresh interest, his eyes glued on Y/N as he beckons her to share more about her day. “Yeah, tell me more about it,” he encourages, his tone inviting. “I'm all ears.”

Y/N takes a long, satisfying sip of her beer before launching into her tale. With a sassy tilt of her head, she re-meets Max's gaze head-on. “I'm a chef, you see. Or, well, I was a chef before my boss decided to give me the boot a few hours ago," she explains.

“No way," Max exclaims, his eyes widening in disbelief. “You? Fired? I can't believe it!”

Max point his bottle at you, “I mean, look at you! You've got 'chef' written all over you! I'll admit I myself can barely cook a decent omelette without setting off the smoke alarm. My kitchen skills are sadly nonexistent.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow, her expression playful yet pointed, “Are you one of those dudes who thinks that cooking is just for women?”

Max feigns offense, clutching his heart dramatically. “No, no, no! It's not like that at all,” he protests, his tone exaggeratedly wounded. “I just... I've always been more of an expert in the fine art of ordering takeout,” he admits with a sheepish grin.

Y/N can't help but tease, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “Ah, so the kitchen gossip about the Dutch thinking of eating as a chore because their food is sadly unseasoned is true then, huh?”

Max's eyes widen in mock indignation, his hands flying up in protest. “Hey now, that's not fair!” he exclaims, his defense genuine but laced with humor. “We have some amazing dishes back home! It's just... a different flavor profile,” he insists, though the twinkle in his eye betrays his amusement.

Y/N chuckles softly, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she playfully reassures him, “Oh, don't take it to heart. I'm just teasing.”

Max grins back before noticing that they’ve both finished their drinks. With a practiced motion, he reaches for another bottle, popping it open with practiced ease and sliding it across the table to Y/N. She tilted her head, signaling her thanks.

They enjoyed a minute of comfortable silence before he speaks again, “So, where did you work as a chef?”

Her expression thoughtful as she considers his question. “I used to work at Casa del Sazón,” she replied. “I’m sure you’re familiar with it.”

Max nearly sputters out his drink, his eyes widening in a manner that is almost comical. “Ain't no way!” he exclaims, genuinely surprised by the coincidence. “I'm a regular there! The food is crazy good!”.

Y/N's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, her lips curling into a pleased smile at Max's enthusiastic endorsement. “Well, fancy meeting one of my regulars here.” she exclaims as she throw him a wink.

Max can't help but sing praises for the food, mentioning several of his favorite dishes with childlike enthusiasm. “Seriously, your enchiladas are out of this world,” he declares, his eyes lighting up. “And don't even get me started on the carne asada tacos–it’s like sex on the mouth.”

Y/N's smile grew with each glowing review that Max threw her way, her pride in her culinary creations evident in every word he speaks. “I'm thrilled to hear that you enjoy my cooking that much,” she replies.

As Max raises his hand in a playful salute, Y/N can't help but chuckle at the gesture. “Well, it's an honor to meet the person behind it all,” he says, his tone sincere as he acknowledges Y/N's talent.

Max's keen observation doesn't miss the subtle shift in Y/N's demeanor, despite her attempts to mask her sadness. He notices the flicker of melancholy that crosses her face, a shadow cast over her previously lively demeanor.

Concern creases Max's brow as he watches Y/N's mood darken, his own heart going out to her. With a gentle touch, he reaches out to lay a reassuring hand on her arm, silently offering his support.

Surprised by Max's comforting gesture, Y/N hesitates before tentatively laying her hand on top of his, half expecting him to pull away. Instead, he surprises her by squeezing her hand back gently, his touch warm and reassuring.

Feeling a sense of comfort wash over her, Y/N opens up. “Sorry for souring the mood—“, but before she can finish her sentence, Max cuts her off with a gentle shake of his head.

“There's no need to apologize,” he reassures her, his voice soft but firm. “Your reaction is completely normal, Y/N. It's not healthy to ignore what you're feeling.”

Y/N offers a grateful smile, touched by Max's kindness. “Thank you for being here with me, Max,” she says sincerely. “I'm sure you had other plans before I came crashing in.”

Max's response is immediate, his smile bright. “Ahh no worries at all. Honestly, this unexpected turn of events has been a pleasant surprise,” he replies.

Y/N's eyes flick to the clock on the wall, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise as she realizes the lateness of the hour. “Wow, it's already 2 am,” she remarks.

She then turns to Max, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think it's probably time for us to call it a night,” she says, her tone apologetic. “We've been here longer than I realized.”

Max's own surprise mirrors Y/N's, his eyes widening in realization as he takes in the late hour. A smile tugs at his lips as he considers the passing of time, a testament to the genuine enjoyment he's found in your company.

“Shit, you're right,” he agrees, his tone filled with slight amazement. “I can't believe how quickly the time flew by. I guess that just goes to show how much I've enjoyed talking to you.”

Y/N's cheeks flush with embarrassment at Max's admission, but she can't hide the glee in her smile. “I, uh, I enjoyed talking to you too,” she admits.

As Max and Y/N stand up, a sense of reluctance hangs in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the inevitable end to their impromptu evening together. With a shared sigh, they make their way towards the door, their steps in sync as they exit the store together.

Once outside, the cool night air envelops them, a gentle reminder of the world waiting beyond the confines of their shared moment. Max offers a small smile as he turns to Y/N, his gesture a silent offer of assistance.

“Can I help you find a cab?” he asks, his tone gentle. “I want to make sure you get home safely.”

Y/N shot him a grateful smile as she accepts his offer. “That would be great, thank you.”

As Max reaches for his phone, ready to call a cab, his movements falter as his gaze meets Y/N's once more. There's a flicker of determination in his eyes as he speaks, his voice steady despite the sudden shift in the conversation.

“I must ask you this,” he begins, his words measured. With a deep breath, he takes the plunge, offering Y/N an unexpected proposition.

“I know it's a bit different from your previous job, but... would you consider being my private chef?” he asks, his tone earnest as he lays his cards on the table. “I want to test the waters and see if we can make it work.”

The air around them crackles with anticipation as Max waits for Y/N's response, his heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and hope. He knows it's a bold move, but something about Y/N's presence fills him with a sense of certainty. The fact that her specialty happens to be his favorite cuisine is also a huge bonus.

Y/N's eyes widen in surprise at Max's unexpected offer, her heart skipping a beat as she takes in the magnitude of his gesture.

“Max, thank you,” she breathes out. Without hesitation, she wraps her arms around him in a tight embrace, her heart overflowing with emotions.

Caught off guard by Y/N's sudden hug, Max feels his cheeks flush a deep shade of maroon. He tries his best to hide it, but the pounding of his heart is so loud, he's certain that even Y/N could feel it reverberating against his chest.

As Max feels Y/N's embrace, a sense of contentment washes over him, enveloping him whole. Lost in the moment, he finds himself unconsciously pulling her even closer, savoring the feeling of her in his arms. In that fleeting instant, Max realizes just how nice it feels to be hugged by her and how he would very much like to repeat this over and over.

When Y/N pulls away, Max can't help but feel a pang of loss at the sudden absence of her warmth. He finds himself craving more of the contact, a yearning stirring within him as he reluctantly lets her go.

Max's heart skips a beat when she asks him to put his number on her phone, his lips curling into a loopy smile. “Sure,” he replies eagerly, his fingers dancing over her phone as he quickly adds his contact information and hands it back to her.

As their fingers brush against each other in the exchange, Max can't shake the electric thrill that courses through him, a silent promise of the possibilities that lie ahead.

“I’ll ring you up tomorrow.” She said, bringing another shit-eating grin to Max's face.

“I'll hold you to that,” his tone mock threatening as he pretends to wag his finger at her. “And don't forget, I have a particular set of skills. I will track you down if I have to. Monaco is not a big country.”

Y/N lets out a laugh as she playfully rolls her eyes at Max's faux threat. “Your wish is my command,” she replies, her voice filled with mock obedience. “As long as there's another session of beers with a side of Max Verstappen, of course.”

“Deal,” he shots back, eyes dancing with mischief. “You can have it however you want, so long as you keep feeding me with good food. I am a man of simple pleasure, Y/N.”

“That I can do Max, that I can do.”

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insomniumstella · 7 months

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spice & honey

bucky x baker!reader

summary: cinnamon buns and wickedly strong coffee must be the only reasons James Buchanan Barnes visits your bakery daily, despite the inconvenience of driving to a small town on the outskirts of Upstate New York. right?

warnings: first dates and crushes (absolutely classified as warnings), mead consumption, a curse word or two, soft!bucky

word count: 4,565

author's note: i've been watching Gilmore Girls a little too much lately (hence the little easter egg). on another note, autumn is my favourite season, so prepared to be sick of James attending harvest festivals and drinking apple cider 🍂🥧🎃

all the stories i've written

September 21st marks the official arrival of Autumn. Though the weather has been rather cheerful lately, today’s air is much crisper and heavier with the promise of looming rain. The streets of Eldermont remain far too green to your dismay, but Spice & Honey��the bakery you’ve owned for the past five years—is rich in shades of marigold and copper. A wide assortment of mugs, mostly in various shapes of pumpkins, and spiced teas, line the shelves, while the fresh jars of apple butter are neatly stacked alongside the register. Besides the usual treats, the glass display teems with seasonal favourite pumpkin tarts and apple cider donuts.

The everlasting chatter of customers and soft sounds of a vintage record you scored at a neighbour’s garage sale just last month saturate the space as you place the second batch of cinnamon rolls on the counter. The clock reads 10:57 AM, and though you’ve been attempting to conceal your excitement, Vivienne could sense it the second you stepped through the door, teasing you about the very special visitor who’s always in need of sugary buns and black coffee at exactly five past eleven.

James Buchanan Barnes is a regular customer, you often argue. The nervous babble, flustered movements, and beaming smiles convey otherwise. And so yes, you might have a little bit of a schoolgirl crush on the freakishly tall, muscular brunette who brings in the latest editions of The Culinary Canvas magazine each Monday and notices the smallest of changes in your recipes. Just maybe, you reluctantly ponder when your thoughts inadvertently wander to that charming grin and baby blue eyes every time you knead the dough for his adored treat — a dessert once reserved for Autumn suddenly available year around.

“Staring at the entrance won’t make time pass quicker,” Vivienne whispers, arranging butterscotch cupcakes by the pumpkin tarts.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whisper back, covering the pans with aluminum foil.

Perhaps hiding the pastries, a favourite amongst Spice & Honey shoppers, is not the best business decision, but Eldermont is merely a small town in Upstate New York. If it wasn’t located a thirty minute drive south of the Avengers compound, most people wouldn’t be aware of its presence in the first place. And besides, everybody in Eldermont is connected to everybody — the town holds no secrets, including the pastries you keep warm and frost fresh.

“The tall, dark, and handsome man,” she points out, “still has a few minutes. Perchance the preparations of Eldermont’s Annual Harvest Festival made it trickier to find parking.” Vivienne turns to you with a mirthful grin, the cupcakes resting perfectly positioned in the glass case. “You should invite him. Heard Brad brewed an incredible batch of apple cider mead this year.”

You sigh, snatching the golden tray out of her grasp. “I’m not asking Bucky out.”

“Ah! Bucky!” The woman’s grin widens. “Forgot his name for a second.” Shades of mischief dance in her tone as she marks Elijah’s, the eccentric owner of Marigold Meadows flower shop across the street, special order of fifty maple bacon BLTs as completed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Only that you mention Bucky at least seven times a day.”

“Seven’s oddly specific,” you note and swiftly, “also I do not,” disagree.

“Bucky smelled great today,” Vivienne mocks your voice, the grin you’ve come to love—and hate—remaining on her features. “Should I add apple to the cinnamon rolls? I wonder if Bucky would enjoy apple cinnamon rolls with brown butter and maple icing unless he’s a creature of habit. Maybe I should suggest a sprinkle of nutmeg in his coffee to test the waters first—“

“Vivienne,” you groan, yet she persists.

“What’s the worst that could happen? Bucky could say no. Bucky could also choose The Sugared Whisk. Bucky wouldn’t. I adore their croissants, but the coffee is terribly weak, and even their tea selection is mediocre. Indigo should include spiced teas. And sure, Luke's doesn't offer spiced teas, but Luke’s sells great coffee and danishes, except the danishes are only available on Wednesdays.” She recites a recent monologue of yours, and if you weren’t mortified, you’d actually be quite surprised at Vivienne’s ability to remember conversations as if they happened minutes ago.

The doorbell chimes before she has the chance to finish, and you’re highly unsure of whether it’s a saved by the bell kind of situation or if you’d rather the floor magically swallow you whole.

“Good morning.” James smiles, and it’s then that you decide you’d rather the floor split open because you’re awfully flustered by his entrance despite secretly anticipating the moment since the sun arose.

“Hiya, Bucky,” she returns the favour, secretly nudging your side. “Have you ever been to the annual Eldermont’s Harvest Festival?”

“Cannot say I have,” he chuckles, breaking eye contact between the two for just a second to glance at her.

Though you’d never admit it aloud, those eyes, baby blue on sunny days and resembling the ocean on the ones of rain, cross your mind more than a pair of eyes should. This infatuation borders on obsessive, you often contemplate. James Buchanan Barnes is an Avenger for heaven’s sake, and you’re almost sure a man of his maturity and composure wouldn’t agree to a date with a baker, a clutz one at that. It’s not that you’d want to, nevertheless. The two of you have a great thing together — you serve coffee, he survives on coffee, and if time allows, the lighthearted conversations you have bring colours to otherwise monotone days.

“The decorations, the food, the people are phenomenal.” You might have to assign the redhead to kneading duty if she’s heading to that territory. “This beauty right here could take you on a real good tour. Eldermont is gorgeous this time of year.” Enjoy kneading bread, Vivi.

“Is it?” James grins, his stare flicking between you and Vivienne.

“Drop dead,” she reiterates, “much like the women.”

“Vivienne,” you suddenly cut in, “the coffee station is out of paper cups. Could you bring some from the back?”

She gives you another grin, less mischievous and more understanding, nodding at Bucky before she disappears into the kitchen. The heavy wooden doors create a boisterous sound once they close, and you couldn’t be happier for a distraction because you cannot look at the brunette just yet. The bakery is sweltering, and your hands are sweaty, and, if it wasn’t evident you’ve been nurturing a crush on James, Vivienne practically plastered a HEAD BAKER IN LOVE WITH SERGEANT BARNES sign out front.

“The station’s out of cups?”

“Yes!” You glimpse behind the shoulder, deciding to keep the lie alive. “Spice & Honey gets busy during the afternoons, and we run out quickly.” The words leave your mouth rushed and a bit muttered, but the effort is there. “Black coffee and a cinnamon bun?”

“It’s a habit,” his smile is as charming as always. James hesitates for a beat, observing you locate the plastic to-go containers. “The festival Vivienne touched on, have you ever been?”

The atmosphere stills for an awkward second as you gawk at him. “Oh, sure,” you answer at last, praying her babbling wasn’t too obvious because you couldn’t fathom Bucky choosing The Sugared Whisk. “Every year since I was four. The festival’s great. Brad brews the best mead, and Johnny, the mayor, is comically strict about the decorations, so it’s all pumpkins, and string lights, and festive garlands,” you mumble, scrambling for the pan and cream cheese frosting. “I’ve even heard whispers of fireworks this year. It’s next Saturday if you want to drop by. Cassie bakes the best apple pies.”

“Better than yours?”

“I don’t serve apple pies,” averting your eyes to study the grinder seems like the best decision to avoid his piercing gaze.

“I’m sure they’d be the best if you did.” Bucky beams, leaning against the counter as he observes you make coffee.

“Thank you,” the expression of gratitude melts into somewhat of a question despite your best attempts at keeping your voice level, “but the pies I bake often turn out horribly wrong. The apples were overcooked, and the dough raw last time I tried.”

“How undercooked?”

“The trash can enjoyed most of it.”

James laughs at that, the sound of it hearty and endearing. “I’m sure it found the pie delicious.” If he’s flirting with you, you can’t tell, and you don’t exactly want to, for expectations are the fool’s hope. “If you’re not terribly busy during the festival,” he speaks after a protracted moment of doubt, “I’d love to take you up on that tour Vivienne mentioned.”

“Tour?” The man in front of you must almost all but hear your heart pounding rapidly inside your chest.

“The tour of mead, pies, and decorations.”

“Oh?” You tinker with a couple napkins, peering at him. “I’m not sure I could give you a real good tour, I’m barely a guide, believe me. I got lost in that new Target on Cedar Lane, and I cannot understand maps, and—“

“I’m asking you out on a date.” Bucky chuckles at your flustered visage, baby blues never once breaking the eye contact.

“Shit,” the curse word leaves your mouth before you can stop it, and you silently reprimand yourself for the rash impulse of colourful words. “Alright.”

The sergeant titters at your sudden reaction, a shy smile dancing on his lips. “We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable. I just thought we might have something between us, chemistry of sorts, and that it might’ve been fun,” he briefly pauses, eyes wild and roaming around your face. “It’s just that Vivienne mentioned Eldermont being gorgeous in the fall, and it got me thinking that I’ve never truly experienced it, because the only thing I visit in this town is your bakery, not that it’s the only place worth visiting—“

“Bucky—“

“There are many stores I should probably check out, and Samuel’s birthday is in a couple of days, which is convenient. I wouldn’t describe Sam and I as the best of pals, but Steve likes him, so I should probably get him a gift.”

“Who’s Samuel?” You ask puzzled, but the flustered soldier standing before you continues to ramble.

“Something small to indicate I remembered but not necessarily care. Something that screams I’m not a total jerk, but you are for reminding the whole compound that your birthday’s on the twenty third. A wooden statue of a bird. Sam likes birds, particularly Redwing, though Redwing’s not technically a bird. A wooden bird statue would certainly insult him, so it’s settled — the plan is to visit Artists & Wood on Land.”

“The shop’s name is Woodland Artistry,” you correct with a gentle smile.

“Right!” James clicks his tongue, studying your softly amused features. “We should probably forget this conversation happened. It was a stupid idea too—“

“Yes,” you interject. “I mean no.” Surely, this scenario is a strange dream that wicked mind of yours created to punish you for the sins you assumably committed in every single one of your previous lives. It’s the only possible explanation for the sergeant’s flustered behaviour. “I would absolutely love to go on a date,” you say and pinch the flesh of your thigh for reassurance, but the scene remains as it was, “with you.”

Gently placing a twenty on the counter, James gleams at you. “I’ve never actually given you my number, have I?”

"No," you shake your head to indicate disagreement, pinching the flesh of your thighs once more. “Only the pleasure of our little chats,” the response makes you wince. The pleasure of our little chats? Something’s definitely wrong with me.

Chuckling, James grasps one of the pens you keep by the cash register and scribbles down a series of numbers on his receipt. "If I don't reply, Steve must be holding me hostage.”

"Duly noted," you grin, folding the piece of paper to tuck it into the back pocket of your denim shorts.

He stands there for a second as if absorbing the situation. “Good. It’s a date, then.” he smiles in the end, taking the coffee and the plastic box, and peeks at you behind his shoulder. “And keep the change, please. These treats of yours are more than worth it.”

A timid smile spreads across your lips at the compliment before you sink your teeth into the soft of your bottom lip, observing the soldier scramble out of the bakery, the phone in his flannel jacket ringing for attention.

“Next time,” the redhead appears beside you once James disappears out of sight with a final wave goodbye, “you should give the man coffee and buns on the house," Vivienne nudges you, "both of them."

A surge of warmth rushes to your cheeks at her innuendo. “It’s great you suddenly possessed the ability to teleport and all, but the dough back there won’t knead itself.”

“No,” she gasps, and you only laugh at her realisation, turning to help the next customer.

It’s a date.

The evening of Eldermont’s harvest festival is pleasant, neither too blazing nor cold, but despite the temperature and the appropriate sundress you’ve chosen for it, you’re on the verge of fainting. I cannot faint on our first date, you think and decide it’s the man next to you’s fault, really. The smell of his cologne is too addicting, the hints of pine and cinnamon in his aftershave too intoxicating. James is a gentleman, which you expected and appreciate, but it’s overwhelming, the way he holds your hand to lead you through crowds and attentively listens to your overdrawn stories about the origins of pumpkin carving. Heavens help me.

“Have you checked out the corn maze yet?” Brad asks cheerfully. He’s surrounded by large beverage urns and stacks of disposable drinkware. “Mary mentioned Elijah’s still in there,” he chuckles, pouring two paper cups full of steaming apple cider mead. “The fool must’ve gotten lost or something.”

“Must’ve,” you glance at him, the corner of your mouth quirking up into a half smile. “Happens every year.”

“The two of you should go,” Brad speaks once again before smiling at Bucky. “It’s a great first date activity.”

James chuckles, and you wonder if he regrets asking you on a date. The small town you call home is ludicrously close, and if Vivienne didn’t spill the beans to Mary as she promised, Mary must’ve spread the ‘rumours’ around herself. The town’s beloved bookshop owner is an incredible woman, but she loves to gossip, and you should’ve expected the second person after Vivienne to consistently insert themselves into your dating life to jump to conclusions. Though the situation isn’t precisely comfortable for you, it must be worse for James. Whilst he has never outright mentioned, the soldier has important reasons to stay under the radar. Bucky has witnessed a lot, horrors you’ve even heard about on the TV, and currently, every resident of Eldermont is aware that James Buchanan Barnes is on a date. With a local baker, nonetheless. Participating in acorn tossing and harvest bingo and conversing with Brad Monty about all kinds of sneaky activities couples get up to in the corn maze. You're certain that James is bound to vanish without a trace due to the town's antics if your diffident and often rather awkward behavior hasn't already scared him away. The anxious parts of your brain have even compiled a mental list of today's disasters:

Johnny wiped his sweaty hands on Bucky’s jacket, realising the blunder only to mumble “I love this jacket, Sergeant Barnes”, and pretending he wanted to initiate a hug before he disappeared.

Cassie offered you a sample of pecan pie, which you eagerly tasted due to Bucky’s “If I had to choose the second best pie after apple, it would be pecan” comment, and completely choked on.

Vivienne located you in the farmer’s market to say “hello”, and persuaded James to purchase a pair of beaded bracelets, the two of you had ridiculed moments earlier, for “every first date needs a souvenir to remember it by”.

James guided you to Mary’s bookstore because you conferred a series of rare hardbacks Mary hides in the back for special customers, and the older woman steered you towards a selection of intimacy guides.

Indigo, The Sugared Whisk owner, pleaded with James for Captain America’s number in the middle of a busy intersection and discussed his “timeless looks” for the next couple of minutes until a car almost struck the three of you.

Elijah phoned you in distress, panicking about “having to live out his best years in a smelly corn maze”, which disturbed the sergeant and resulted in an “Elijah will find the exit eventually” monologue on your side.

You accepted to take a photo of a tourist couple, accidentally dropping the wife’s phone and shattering the screen because James stood so close, your hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

“Thanks, Brad,” you fumble with your wallet, hastily placing a ten on the stand. “See you around.”

“Doll,” Bucky doesn’t move once you attempt to remove him from the nightmare that is the situation the two of you found yourselves in. It gives you a second to evaluate his expression, and much to your surprise, his features are as soft as ever. James is blushing, too. “I wanted to pay for that.”

“You paid for the apple pie,” the words slip past your lips mumbled because the only thing you can truly concentrate on is the fact James is blushing. Blushing as a result of Brad’s stories about couples so in love they simply cannot be bothered to locate the labyrinth’s exit before proving their emotions to the world. Couples that could be the two of you. Possibly. A sane person shouldn’t rush to assumptions unless they earned the sweetest nickname from a dream of a man. You’ve never paid much thought to whether you would enjoy being called a ‘doll’—you do, but you would probably adore every label he’d choose. The notion steers your head toward unexpected and dirty waters, and you couldn’t be happier for Brad’s decision to chime in.

“Cassie outdid herself this year,” he nods. “I’m most definitely going to dream about that blackberry pie tonight.”

“Yes,” James agrees never once breaking the eye contact with you. “The pies were delicious, and it was my pleasure to pay. It was me who demanded a tour.”

“You may pay for the maze then,” you smile at him, “but leave the ten — I’m not that great of a tour guide, and I’m afraid of the dark.”

“Dates should be fun,” James suddenly speaks. “We could’ve skipped the labyrinth.”

The corn maze is high and intimidating, but Bucky’s presence and the soft glow of an orange sunset manage to silence your fears a bit. The passages are almost entirely empty except for the two of you, and each corner you take makes your heart jump at the possibility of encountering spooky surprises.

“This is fun,” you reassure, taking a sip of mead. James shoots you a look you cannot truly decipher, but you decide the meaning is somewhere between worried and teasing. “It is,” you hesitate for a beat. “I just keep remembering the haunted corn maze in Greenwood. They have scare actors there, who jump out of the bushes when you least expect it and completely startle you. Vivienne took me there last year, and I cannot shake the memories.”

The expression on his face melts into sympathy. “If it’s any consolation, I would protect you against all the zombies and monsters this maze might throw at us,” he speaks before, “not that it has any,” adding.

“If theme’s anything to go by, I think we’re OK,” you chuckle at his offer, referring to the cutesy signs and charmingly painted pumpkins scattered throughout the labyrinth, “unless Johnny decided to include a couple gory scenes at the end, though it’d end worse for him than it would for me.”

“Johnny The Mayor?”

“Johnny The Mayor,” you take yet another sip, nodding. The beverage is barely warm twenty minutes into the attraction, providing only the comfort of a soft alcohol tipsiness.

“He’s a charming little fella,” Bucky notes, and you don’t have it in yourself to deny the statement. “I’ve never experienced someone initiating a hug by wiping their hands on my jacket.”

“Sorry,” you offer sheepishly because what could you say after an occurrence so bizarre. Everyone in this town is strange? James must’ve caught on to the fact by this time.

“It’s alright, and besides, I now have a humorous story to recount at parties, which is a first,” he gleams at you. “It may come as a surprise, but I’m not usually the life of it.”

“Can I ask you a question?” You shift to gaze at him before emptying the cup of mead to steady your nerves.

“I don’t promise to answer,” James grins, fiddling with the beaded bracelet, “but yes.”

“Who’s Samuel?”

“That’s your question?” He laughs as his flesh arm slithers to rest upon your waist. At least you think it’s his flesh arm. The man wears gloves whether the sun shines or the rain pours. You’ve seen pictures, though, and read stories of The Winter Soldier in possession of a metal arm. Neither raise concern, not for the reason you’re smitten with Bucky. Rather, because James was manipulated and stripped of free will, and if heaven would descend, perhaps because that metal arm is sinfully attractive. It’s a thought forbidden to be mentioned aloud, for the gloves are a large indicator he’d enjoy staying silent about the matter. “Who’s Samuel?”

“Yes,” you sputter. The butterflies his simple action caused you don’t mention. “I want to hear about this Samuel. I’ve been informed he likes birds, especially Redwing, who’s not technically a bird?”

“The Samuel I was babbling about is Sam Wilson. The Falcon, if you’re a fan of CNN,” James teases, steering you into the left pathway of the maze. Despite your instinct to choose right, you stay silent. “Redwing’s a drone of sorts Sam uses on missions, and, this is a direct quote, for surveillance. I despise the thing.”

“If we get lost, forget the second date,” you playfully threaten. Though the coziness of his body pressed to yours is intoxicating, it does nothing to ease the goosebumps painted on your skin, and as the sky bleeds in shades of crimson and purple, the sun melts into the horizon, teasing you for forgetting a sweater. “I would’ve categorised holding a grudge against an object as below you.”

“If the shoe fits,” he chortles, leading you down a long passage before abruptly stopping. Hesitating for a beat, he drapes the flannel jacket you’ve come to love on the man around your body. The garment is red and weighty, and it smells of James. The gesture makes your heart swell with admiration, but you ignore it. Dates should be approached with a blank slate because expectations are easily shattered. “I shouldn’t deliver Steve that woman’s phone number, should I?” Bucky’s arm finds your waist again.

Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, “on the bright side, Indigo is quite a pleasant woman,” you verbalise the thought. James observes your expression, baby blues studying the same features he cannot resist thinking about at nightfall. Blood rushes to his cheeks at the notice of your fingers on his lower back, the heat of your skin piercing through his charcoal henley. “She’d certainly treat Captain America right. On the downside,” you pause, “Indigo is the exact opposite of Steve as the media portrays him. Come to think about it, both of us are.”

“How so?”

“The media portrays supersoldiers as courageous, but Indigo and I once had to call Luke to get rid of a teeny spider. Steve’s active in politics, whilst we often skip the town’s meetings—“

“Eldermont holds town meetings?” James chuckles, subconsciously drawing you in closer.

“Once a month, always on the first Tuesday,” you gleam at him before drawing in a deep breath to calm your violently beating heart. “Last time, we discussed the very pressing issue of Halloween decorations. Johnny insists every business on the main street must participate in the festivities. Indigo and I escaped out the back before the mayor could finish his speech. At the least, Steve would’ve stayed in that meeting, and at the most, he would’ve managed it.”

“People do say opposites attract.”

“Heard that before,” you agree. The loose strand of Bucky’s auburn hair tempts you to tuck it behind his ear, but you halt the impulse of committing such a ludicrous decision. “It must be true because you drink coffee black, and I prefer lattes. You have cinnamon buns for breakfast, and I, if time would be gracious enough for breakfast, would choose danishes.”

“The jury’s decided, then.” The corners of his mouth quirk up into a lazy and wickedly attractive smile, and, you almost wonder if Bucky’s aware of the effect he has on your body because if he isn't, your buckling knees must’ve given it away. “Opposites do attract.” His wildly confident attitude is a new discovery, but you decide you like it. “It would be a shame to ignore matters of the universe.” Confidence is a good shade on him.

“Is this your way of asking me on a second date?” You tease the man, memorising the pink hues veiling his cheekbones.

James guides you around the corner, observing the corn maze’s exit, and halts his movements. “Only if the lady agrees,” he shifts to stand before you, catching your forearms in his gloved hands, “which I’m sincerely hoping she does.”

Resting your arms on his shoulders, you gift yourself a quick moment to explore his features — the stubble gently lining his sharp jaw, the little scar above his eyebrow, and the red lips you, despite hiding it, wanted to kiss since he first visited Spice & Honey. “The lady would love to go on a second date.”

“Good,” an emotion you cannot comprehend waltzes in his eyes, but, for the sake of your composure, you abstain from thinking it could possibly be lust. “The gentleman is looking forward to it.” There's an argument happening inside him, you can sense it by the way he keeps drawing you closer until the space between your bodies is virtually erased, but retains his posture straight and almost rigid. The weight of should he or should he not lingers in the air around you before James catches your stare and smiles timidly, shattering the flicker of hope you have for him to kiss you. You don’t exactly yearn for him to kiss you. In theory, kiss-less first dates are a great idea, paving the way for deeper conversations and a closer bond. They build anticipation. Anticipation is good, you ponder for a second, but all you can truly focus on is whether James would taste like apple cider mead or the sugary desserts you two savoured earlier. “The night is still young," he speaks, the tone of his voice light and reticent. "It would be a shame to end the date this early."

“Luke’s open if you want to grab a quick dinner,” you say with a grin, stepping away from him. “Though we should probably exit the maze first.”

“Yes,” Bucky laughs and extends his arm towards the light at the end of the passage. “Lead the way, pretty lady.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x baker reader #bucky x baker!reader #insomniumstella #bucky x reader spice & honey

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pengujoon · 8 months

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ARE YOU MAKING PANCAKES?

content. megumi x reader, toothrotting fluff, domesticity in it’s finest form. megumi just woke up and is clingy, and he has cold fingers. implied height difference, living together!au. intentional lowercase.

a/n. ch234 made me cry. megumi ilybb stay strong

sunlight painted the kitchen in a gentle glow, a canvas for the quiet morning. the air was fragrant with the promise of pancakes, their sizzling adding to the comforting ambiance. you hummed a soft melody, the notes weaving into the serenity of the moment.

amidst your culinary symphony, the faint patter of footsteps announced megumi's arrival. his hair was adorably tousled from sleep as he stepped into the kitchen, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips.

lost in your cooking, you didn’t notice his presence in the kitchen. it was only when you felt a pair of arms gently wrap around your waist that you jumped in surprise.

"oh!"

his touch was a gentle contrast against your skin, a sudden coolness that sent a shiver down your spine.

"morning," he whispered, his voice a rich rumble. "sorry, didn't mean to startle you. are you making pancakes?"

turning slightly, you met his gaze with surprise. "megumi, you're awake." a gentle laugh escaped your lips, your fingers finding their way to his arms, where they rested. "it's alright, you just caught me off guard. and yes, i'm making pancakes for us."

he nuzzled his nose against your neck, his lips brushing your skin in a tender gesture. his fingers played with a strand of your hair absentmindedly. "missed you this morning."

a soft smile tugged at your lips, his presence filling the space around you. "i didn't want to wake you."

megumi's arms tightened around you, his warmth enveloping you completely. "woke up alone. ’tis not the same."

you turned off the stove, nestling into his embrace. "i’m sorry. i wanted to surprise you."

his lips pressed a soft kiss to your neck, the contrast of his warmth against his cold fingers igniting a shiver.

"i prefer waking up with you."

with the stove momentarily forgotten, you leaned into him, your hearts beating in tandem. "i’ll remember that."

his lips met yours, a kiss that spoke of longing and tenderness. his fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, the coolness of his touch a unique sensation.

"you're enchanting when you're focused," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper.

blushing, you looked up at him, his gaze holding a world of tenderness. megumi's embrace was like a warm embrace from the morning sun.

"being with you makes me happy." his lips found the curve of your neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses that ignited a warmth within you. "i want mornings like this every day."

you smiled, wrapping your arms around him. "we'll make that happen."

his lips met yours again, a promise of shared mornings and shared hearts. in his arms, the scent of pancakes mingled with the softness of your connection, creating a memory that you both would cherish.

#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro fluff #jjk #jjk fics #penguwrites #jjk imagines #living together!au #domestic megumi x reader

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sp00kygoddessxx · 3 months

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🥧A Slice of Temptation🥧

Pairing: Dean Winchester & reader Wᴏʀᴅ Cᴏᴜɴᴛ 684

The scent of warm pie filled the air, wafting through the bunker's kitchen and drawing the attention of Dean Winchester. He followed the enticing aroma, his curiosity piqued as he rounded the corner to find you standing by the oven, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

"Hey, Dean," you greeted him, holding a freshly baked pie in your hands. "I thought I'd whip up something special for you. Apple, your favorite."

Dean's eyes lit up, a grin spreading across his face. "You made me pie? Well, aren't you just the best thing that's happened to this kitchen?"

You chuckled, placing the pie on the countertop. "Consider it a token of appreciation for all the times you've saved the day. Now, have a seat. I'll get you a slice."

As Dean took a seat at the table, you grabbed a pie server and carefully cut a generous piece. The golden crust crunched beneath the utensil, revealing the warm, cinnamon-infused filling. You placed the plate in front of Dean, who eagerly picked up his fork.

"Mmm, this is amazing," Dean mumbled between bites. "You've got some serious skills, sweetheart."

You sat across from him, a playful glint in your eyes. "Well, they do say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

Dean smirked, savoring the last bite of pie. "You know, you might be onto something there."

With the pie demolished and the satisfaction of a good meal settling in, Dean leaned back in his chair, regarding you with a twinkle in his eye. "So, what's the occasion for this culinary masterpiece?"

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "No occasion, really. Just felt like doing something nice for you. Is that so strange?"

Dean's grin turned into a sly smirk. "Not strange at all. In fact, it's got me thinking about how I can repay you for this."

Your eyebrows raised in playful curiosity. "Oh, really? And how do you plan on doing that?"

Dean stood, rounding the table to where you were sitting. He leaned down, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "Well, I was thinking of a special kind of thank you. Something a bit more... intimate."

A shiver ran down your spine as Dean's warm breath brushed against your ear. The playful atmosphere shifted into something charged with anticipation. You met Dean's gaze, and the unspoken agreement passed between you.

Dean's lips claimed yours in a slow, lingering kiss, the taste of apple pie still lingering on his mouth. The sensation was electric, a dance of passion and desire that had been simmering beneath the surface. He guided you to your feet, the kitchen suddenly feeling smaller as the air crackled with a newfound tension.

With each kiss, Dean's hands explored the contours of your body, tracing the curves as if committing them to memory. The warmth of his touch contrasted with the cool surface of the kitchen counter as he gently lifted you onto it. The air between you thickened with heat, the space charged with an undeniable chemistry that had been building for far too long.

As clothes were shed and desire took over, the kitchen became a canvas for the intimate exchange between you and Dean. The lingering aroma of apple pie served as a backdrop to the symphony of moans and whimpers.

In the aftermath, Dean had carried you over to the couch as you lay entwined, a sense of contentment settled over both of you. Dean brushed a strand of hair from your face, a tender smile playing on his lips.

"Best night I've had for a while," he remarked, his voice a low murmur.

You laughed, the sound echoing through the kitchen. "Glad you enjoyed it. Maybe I should bake pie more often."

Dean chuckled, pulling you closer. "I won't argue with that. But next time, let's skip the pie and get straight to dessert."

And so, amid the remnants of a once-tempting pie and the shared laughter that followed, you and Dean Winchester reveled in the simple pleasures of good food, genuine appreciation, and the intoxicating magic that unfolded in the most unexpected moments.

#dean winchester imagines #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #spn #spn imagine #supernatural #x reader #imagines #jensen ackles

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cinnies-stories · 4 months

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grace clinton / like a hallmark movie

this is short, sorry, but her 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

You hummed a festive tune as you sifted flour onto the kitchen counter, glancing over at Grace who was wrestling with the tangled lights for the Christmas tree. The room was filled with the scent of cinnamon and the promise of holiday joy.

"Having a little trouble there, Ms. I-don't-need-help?" you teased, eyes twinkling.

"Just trying to untangle the holiday spirit, darling. Maybe I need a magical touch?" Grace replied with a grin, her hands still in a wrestling match with the lights.

"I'll save you with my superior untangling skills later. But first, focus on these cookies. They need your culinary genius," you replied, playfully waving a rolling pin at your girlfriend.

Winking, the young forward responded, "Your wish is my command, Chef Y/N. What's the secret ingredient this time?" Her words were met with a gentle kiss on the cheek from you.

"Love, of course. But also a hint of mischief and a dash of holiday magic," you answered with a mischievous smile.

"Love, mischief, and holiday magic, coming right up!" Grace said, mock saluting.

As the two of you worked on the cookie dough, your girlfriend stole a quick kiss, leaving a dusting of flour on your nose. Giggles filled the room as you both engaged in a playful flour fight, turning the kitchen into a winter wonderland.

"I think our cookies just got an extra sprinkle of love," Grace remarked, looking at the snowy mess you two had created.

"And a touch of insanity, but that's what makes it perfect," you added, nudging her.

Your playful banter continued, punctuated by sweet kisses and laughter. Flour dusted both your cheeks as you exchanged affectionate gestures, turning the baking process into a delightful dance of love.

As you rolled out the dough, Grace paused, her gaze fixed on you. "You know, these cookies may not be as sweet as your kisses." You rolled your eyes but another soft kiss followed, making the kitchen feel even warmer.

While the cookies baked, you sat by the fireplace, cups of cocoa in hand, and admired the twinkling lights on the tree.

"You know, the lights on this tree can't compare to the sparkle in your eyes. "

Blushing, you responded, "Smooth talker. But seriously, this feels like a Hallmark movie, doesn't it?"

"Only if Hallmark movies involve flour fights and stolen kisses in the kitchen," Grace replied with a smirk.

You chuckled and the banter continued as you decorated the cookies.

Holding up a snowman-shaped cookie the brown-haired forward proclaimed "Clearly, my decorating skills surpass yours."

Examining her creation, you teased, "It looks more like a blob with a hat, but nice try. I, on the other hand, am a cookie Picasso."

"Picasso, huh? I think the world needs to see this masterpiece," she said, mock gasping.

Handing her a cookie, you declared, "Instagram-worthy, right?"

Taking a bite, Grace responded, "Definitely. But I think the best part is the chef herself."

Blushing once again, you replied, "You're laying on the charm thick tonight."

"Can't help it. Christmas brings out the romantic in me," your girlfriend grinned.

You continued decorating, the kitchen filled with laughter, sweet words, and the scent of freshly baked cookies.

"This is the perfect Christmas," you sighed contentedly.

"Almost perfect. We still have mistletoe to hang," Grace said, wrapping an arm around you.

Saving the best for last, you smirked, "Wouldn't have it any other way."

And so, with cookies in hand and mistletoe above, you both enjoyed a Christmas filled with love, laughter, and a touch of holiday magic. The kitchen, now adorned with imperfect but heartfelt cookies, became a canvas of your shared joy and affection.

#woso imagine #woso #woso x reader #grace clinton #grace clinton x reader #grace clinton imagine

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primaviva · 4 months

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gingerbread; gwen stacy

featuring. gwen stacy x fem!reader

synopsis. making gingerbread with your girlfriend—gwen stacy.

warnings. none, just fluff! one suggestive joke and intense kiss description

gingerbread—a cherished christmas classic that invokes a symphony of senses, whisking you away to a world of holiday enchantment. as much as you would hate to admit it to someone who is passionate about christmas, the art of constructing a gingerbread house has eluded you. well, perhaps there was a time in your youth when you attempted such a creation, but it never truly became an integral part of your holiday traditions. sure, you delighted in the occasional indulgence of premade gingerbread cookie snacks found at the local market, striving to awaken the spirit of the season. however, those moments were akin to coloring within the lines of gingerbread-themed books from your childhood—a fleeting taste of the magic.

but today, it seemed that this would change.

gwen, surprising a fervent advocate of all things christmas, extended an invitation to her home while her dad was out working late. the purpose? to make gingerbread.

as you stepped into gwen's apartment, a winter wonderland unfolded before you. the air was infused with the delicate fragrance of freshly cut pine, mingling harmoniously with the nostalgic scent of cinnamon and nutmeg. not to mention the little festive touches to the apartment like the wreath that was in your face as you knocked on the door.

in the heart of gwen's kitchen, a tableau of culinary goodness awaited. the ingredients for gingerbread lay scattered across the countertop, more than enough boxes than there should be of premade mix. the scent of ginger mingled with the warmth of the earthy undertones of almond, blending into a fragrant melody that coated the room in an irresistible aroma.

the room buzzed with excitement as you and gwen meticulously measured, combined ingredients, and kneaded the dough. the rhythmic sound of the wooden spoon swirling through the mixture created a rough cadence, accompanied by the gentle clinking of utensils against the mixing bowl.

time seemed to both pass by and stand still at the start of things. with each roll of the pin, the dough spread out, its surface becoming a blank canvas waiting to be shaped into something deliciously beautiful for you to destroyed. gingerbread walls, roofs, windows, and doors emerged from the malleable dough, ready to be transformed into a festive yet architectural masterpiece.

as the premade gingerbread pieces were placed in the oven, the minutes stretched out like taffy, building an air of suspense. the addictive scent of freshly baked gingerbread wafted through the kitchen, enveloping you in its warm embrace.

finally, with a melodious ding, the timer announced the completion of the baking process—a moment that marked the birth of something truly extraordinary.

impatience tinged your words as you exclaimed, "goddamn, i could practically feel my toenails growing in place while waiting for that damn timer!" your frustration evident, you turned your head to the side, seeking any distraction from the anticipation that had reached its peak. with a determined stride, you made your way to the oven, bending down to peer inside. the radiant light within the oven cast a mesmerizing glow upon the smooth, golden-brown texture of the gingerbread, causing your mouth to almost involuntarily salivate.

as you stood there, captivated by the sight before you, gwen playfully observed your expression and couldn't help but chuckle. "take it easy," she teased, joining you by the oven. "even as your girlfriend, i don't think i want to eat gingerbread covered with frosting and... saliva."

her playful remark lightened the moment, allowing a smile to grace your face. the warmth of her presence, coupled with the tantalizing aroma filling the air, intensified the feeling of holiday joy. with a deliberate grace, gwen adorned the oven mitts, preparing to retrieve the gingerbread from its warm haven. as she carefully lifted the tray and placed it on the countertop, the sweet fragrance enveloped the room, an atmosphere of festive delight. it was as if the very essence of christmas had materialized in that humble batch of gingerbread.

"voilà!" gwen declared, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "our gingerbread base is ready for some serious decorating." the prospect of adorning the freshly baked canvas with a burst of color and creativity brought a renewed sense of excitement, infusing the air with a contagious energy.

gwen's eyes sparkled with mischief as she turned to face you, a playful grin spreading across her face. "so, my creative partner in crime, any design in mind for our masterpiece?" her words inviting your imagination to run wild. "i was thinking a haunted gingerbread house, complete with gummy worms and licorice spiders. but i'm open to suggestions, of course." a sigh left your lips, of course spiders.

you couldn't help but wear a sly smirk on your face as you locked eyes with gwen, indulging in the banter between you. "y’know, you sound so corny right now," you jest, a hint of truth lacing your words, eliciting a dry laugh.

gwen couldn't help but laugh at your reaction. "alright, alright, no more cringey names, got it," she replied, feigning seriousness.

sauntering toward the countertop, you leaned on it, peering closely at the freshly baked gingerbread, contemplating the possibilities. "how about we recreate your apartment? a cute lil’ surprise for mister stacy when he returns home."

the thought of transforming the gingerbread canvas into a miniature replica of her own living space definitely excited gwen, even if it was up to debate if she had the skill to execute that.

“i would love for my dad to come home to see a miniature gingerbread version of our apartment,” she put it simply. gwen leaned against the countertop next to you, examining the gingerbread pieces. "we'll need to get creative with the decorations. maybe some pretzel stick furniture, and we can use icing to make tiny portraits of us hanging on the gingerbread walls," she suggested, eyes sparkling with excitement.

gwen walked off to her cabinets and grabbed an array of things ranging from sprinkles, pretzels and cookies, to gumdrops she had stored all the way in the back where you swore you could’ve seen some cobwebs. "so, how's it feel to be in the presence of a master gingerbread architect? i hope you can keep up with my design skills, babe,” gwen smirked playfully, raising an eyebrow at you.

you couldn’t help but let a laugh escape from your throat. “master gingerbread architect? please, if you can’t make your webs stick to the side of a building for more than fifteen seconds i can only imagine how you think you’ll be able to stick two gingerbread walls together with some frosting,” you tease, playfully bumping her hip.

gwen couldn't help but burst into laughter at your remark, pretending to be offended. "hey now, my web-slinging skills may not translate perfectly to gingerbread construction, but i'll have you know i've got a few tricks up my sleeve," she quipped, winking at you.

as she picked up the box of icing, she playfully flicked a bit of it in your direction. "watch out, or i might just stick you to the gingerbread walls too," gwen teased, sticking her tongue out at you.

but in all seriousness, she was grateful for moments like these, where you could just be yourselves and have fun together. as you focused on decorating the gingerbread pieces, she couldn't help but steal glances at you, a soft smile playing on her lips. it was moments like these that made her appreciate how lucky she is to be in your presence.

you chuckled lowly at her little threat. “i think you should watch out then, cus’ who said i wouldn’t enjoy being webbed to the wall by you?” you questioned, making a bold comment to the tall blonde.

you watched as she got together the frosting, mixing it before putting it in baggies. you began copying her movements, helping her mix the already selected holiday colors such as red, green, and white and put them in their respective baggie before cutting the tip of it so it can dispense the frosting.

gwen couldn't help but blush at your daring response, her pale skin transitioning to a pretty rose while feeling a rush of affection toward you. "oh, you’d enjoy it, huh?" she replied, voice laced with amusement. "well, maybe i'll have to put that to the test sometime."

as you worked together to mix the frosting and fill the baggies, she admired the way you effortlessly picked up on the process. it was one of the reasons she loved being with you—you always embraced new challenges with determination and a willingness to learn.

or at least get through those said challenges… if anything.

gwen grabbed a decorative plate, seemingly a fancy traditional plate that looked irish, probably a gift from her grandparents to her dad. once the frosting was ready, she grabbed one of the gingerbread walls and the floor from the parchment and put a dollop to the plate to make it act as glue for stability. then, she began piping a decorative trim along the edges, using the red frosting. gwen delicately squeezed the baggie, letting the smooth, creamy texture glide onto the cookie. the scent of the sugary frosting mixed with the warm gingerbread, creating an intoxicating aroma.

she glanced over at you, noticing your focused expression as you worked on your own piece. "looking good over there," gwen complimented with a grin, playfully nudging your shoulder. “gingerbread, not you, well you are but- i’m talking about your lovely art right there.”

you let out a choked laugh as your hand faltered from piping the frosting down the side of one of the big gingerbread squares for the apartment. it wasn’t too difficult, but for someone who doesn’t do this annually you clearly struggled with some things. “all i've done so far is stick the back wall to the other side that you did,” you state plainly. “if this is art to you then i would hate to hear what you think of picasso.”

gwen couldn't help but let out a boisterous laugh at your self-deprecating comment. "hey, don't sell yourself short! i’m sure picasso would be so proud to see your one singular gingerbread wall," she reassured you, trying to suppress her giggles.

gwen put her piping bag down and walked over to your direction. you felt her chest hit your back as both her arms snaked from behind your waist to your arms. she reached over and gently took your hand, guiding it back to the frosting baggie. "here, let me show you a little trick. just apply a little pressure and let the frosting flow out smoothly all on its own. you got it," she encouraged, setting an example for you.

you tried to pay attention, but it was hard when her smooth yet raspy voice was whispering in your ear, so close you felt her breath tickling your cheek.

you both continued decorating the gingerbread walls, adding intricate details and personal touches. gwen used the white frosting to create a snow-like effect on the roof, while you expertly piped green frosting to resemble a wreath on the front door.

as you worked side by side, the room filled with laughter and the sweet scent of gingerbread and frosting. it was moments like these, where both of you could be silly and enjoy each other's company, that truly made gwen's heart flutter.

you carefully spread a layer of frosting inside the gingerbread house, creating a smooth carpet-like surface. a mischievous grin plays on your lips as an idea takes hold. secretly, you squeeze a dollop of frosting onto your pointer finger, ready to execute your playful plan. "gwen, come see the carpet i did," you command, diverting her attention from the oh so important and intricate task of assembling miniature furniture out of cookies, pretzels, and other random yet surprisingly edible materials. she turns towards you, her gaze fixed on your direction, unsuspecting of what's about to happen.

swiftly, you rise onto the balls of your feet, reaching her height, and with a quick and unexpected motion, you press the frosting onto the tip of her nose, smudging it up towards the bridge. a mischievous giggle escapes your lips as you revel in the spontaneous act, marveling at the frosting adorning gwen's nose.

gwen's eyes widen in surprise, a gasp escaping her lips as her fingertips touch the sticky yet velvety texture of the vibrant green frosting adorning her nose. its hue is so vivid, it could rival even the grinch himself. her eyes widened in mock shock, but a mischievous grin quickly spread across her face. "oh, it's on now!" the blonde exclaimed, playfully narrowing her eyes at you.

without missing a beat, she grabbed a dollop of frosting from the table and quickly retaliated, smearing it on your cheek. "oops, looks like you've got a little something on your face," gwen teased, unable to contain her laughter.

the two of you burst into a fit of giggles, frosting-covered fingers and all. you couldn’t take each other seriously. as the frosting war continued, you both ended up with streaks of frosting on your faces, looking more like abstract art than gingerbread decorators. but it didn't matter—you were having fun, and that's all that truly mattered in that moment.

“hey, i put a lil’ dot on you and not this fat ass blob,” you defend, wiping some of the frosting from the pile she planted on your nose and adding it to her nose. “cute nose job, rudolph. not lookin’ botched at all,” you teased.

gwen couldn't help but laugh at your quick retort, wiping off some of the frosting from her nose and smearing it on your lower jaw. "oh, so you're a critic now, huh?" she playfully responded, a smirk as clear as a snow globe. "well, i'm just gonna add some extra flair to your already sexy nose. rudolph will have nothing on you."

your laughter filled the room as we continued the frosting battle, merrily colorful streaks on each other's faces. no matter how silly or ridiculous you two might look, you were always able to find joy and laughter together.

but amidst the chaos, gwen couldn't help but steal a moment to appreciate your playful spirit and the way your eyes sparkled with mischief. you were truly her partner in crime, and she wouldn't want it any other way. or how she would put it, her “creative partner in gingerbread crime.” well, whatever that means.

the frosting war continued, we eventually ran out of ammunition, leaving you both covered in frosting from head to shoulder. you and your girlfriend stood there, breathless from laughter, and she couldn't resist pulling you into a tight, frosting-covered hug. "you're the best, you know that?" gwen whispered, her voice filled with genuine affection as raspy as it came.

you instinctively step back from the hug, finding yourself nose-deep in gwen's sweater. the thick frosting that had made its way into your nostrils tickles uncomfortably, and you valiantly suppress the urge to let out a loud sneeze. hastily grabbing a napkin, you wipe away the frosting, finally lifting your gaze to meet gwen's as her words register in your mind.

in that moment, clarity dawns upon you, and you realize what she said. the initial distraction of the frosting mishap fades away as you comprehend the deeper meaning behind her innocent words.

“what?” you questioned, urging her to repeat it.

gwen quickly snapped out of her daze, realizing that she had been staring at you. a slight blush crept up on the blonde’s cheeks as she realized that she had been caught. "oh, uh, sorry," gwen stammered, sounding a bit softer than usual. "i was just… admiring how cute you look, even covered in frosting."

a nervous chuckle escapes gwen's lips, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she finds herself feeling more embarrassed than that one time her headphones failed her during class, blaring my chemical romance for an unplanned five seconds. "i guess i got lost in the moment there. but hey, you're always a sight to see, whether you're covered in frosting or not," she stated, trying to play it off like her hands still don’t falter to shake when you make her nervous. gwen reached out and gently wiped a bit of frosting off your cheek with my thumb, her touch lingering for a moment. "you’re my favorite mess," gwen added.

a warmth spreads across your cheeks in response to gwen's comment. "oh, really?" you retort, secretly wanting to hear more from her. however, you quickly regain your composure, reminding yourselves of the task at hand. "enough, we still have shit to do," you interject, trying to steer the focus back to the gingerbread house.

gwen raised an eyebrow at your response, but couldn't help but notice the underlying hint of vulnerability in your tone. “learn to take a compliment,” she comments.

but gwen's soft smile tugs at your heartstrings, drawing you closer to her. she leans in, her gaze fixed on your eyes, as if she's searching for something deeper within you. in a surprising move, she uses her thumb, still adorned with the frosting she had wiped off you, and gently smears it across your lips. her voice carries innocence as she remarks, "looks like you've got a little something."

the touch of gwen's thumb against your lips sends a subtle jolt of electricity through your body, leaving you momentarily breathless.

but as she stepped closer to you, faces mere inches apart, gwen couldn't resist the magnetic pull between you.

as you close the remaining distance between you, gwen's lips meet yours with a gentle, lingering pressure, initiating a tender kiss. the sensation of her lips against yours sends a shiver of delight down your spine. the world around you seems to dissolve into a hazy blur, leaving only the two of you enveloped in a moment of pure connection.

your lips move in perfect synchronization with gwen's, their dance a delicate and intimate rhythm. each brush and caress of her soft lips against yours ignites a cascade of sensations to your skin—subtle yet electrifying. the taste of the frosting lingers on your tongues, a delectable blend of sweetness merging with the warmth of her own unique lip balm, a hint of vanilla intertwined with the minty sweetness.

lost in the tender embrace, you become acutely aware of every detail—the velvety texture of her lips, the way they meet and meld with yours in the most gentle and affectionate manner in which she moves. it's a moment where time stands still, where nothing else matters except the intoxicating closeness and shared intimacy between the two of you.

as you gently pull away from the kiss, your eyes instinctively rise to meet gwen's gaze. her lips, now adorned with a generous coating of green frosting, seem to attract even more of the sticky sweetness due to the presence of her lip balm. a rush of heat floods your cheeks, betraying your flustered state, while gwen smirks knowingly at you. a dry scoff escapes her lips, her eyes fixed unwaveringly on you, clearly surprised by the effect she has on you.

your attention is captivated as gwen's tongue emerges, delicately gliding along her lower lip, collecting the frosting in a deliberate and tantalizing manner. the sight of her tongue ascending to her upper lip, methodically removing the sweet coating, holds you in a mesmerized state. you watch with unwavering focus, afraid to tear your gaze away, as she withdraws her tongue back into her mouth, savoring the taste once more.

gwen, fully aware of the effect her actions have on you, wears an expression of both satisfaction and amusement. it becomes evident that she takes pleasure in being the sole catalyst for such a reaction from you, relishing in the power she holds over your senses.

as gwen finished licking off the frosting from her lips, she let out another low laugh. "mmm, still tastes as good as ever," she commented, her voice tauntingly husky. "you’re right, enough is enough. let’s get back to work, shall we?"

with a playful wink directed your way, gwen swiftly turns around, retrieving a towel and extending it towards you. you accept it, grateful for the gesture, as she grabs another towel for herself. without missing a beat, she proceeds to wipe her face clean, the remnants of frosting vanishing from her lips and leaving behind a pristine canvas. with a determined focus, she resumes her position, ready to dive back into the task at hand.

as you and gwen huddle together, the gingerbread apartment sprawled out before you, a wave of excitement washing over you both. the gingerbread walls, perfectly baked and golden brown, stand tall and sturdy, ready to be transformed. with nimble fingers, you take the lead, carefully applying royal icing along the seams of the rest of the walls, joining them together to form the structure. gwen follows suit, her touch deft and precise, ensuring the stability of the gingerbread apartment. the icing, a pristine white, resembles freshly fallen snow, enhancing the enchanting charm of the scene.

together, you meticulously construct the details—a miniature door, adorned with candy cane stripes, opens up to reveal a sugary haven within. the windows, crafted from translucent sugar sheets, allow glimpses into the home.

inside the gingerbread apartment, you and gwen become masterful decorators, so much so even the hgtv channel overlords would envy you two. tiny tinsel garlands, carefully woven together, drape along the walls, reflecting the glow of imaginary holiday lights. delicate icicle-shaped ornaments, made from crystallized sugar, hang from the ceilings, shimmering with a frosted sparkle. the living room area boasts a miniature christmas tree, painstakingly fashioned from piped green icing and dressed with tiny edible baubles, crafted from old halloween candies. a crackling fireplace, created by using chocolate shavings and red m&ms, casts a false warmth to the empty room. moving into the kitchen, a gingerbread dining table, complete with intricate icing lacework, holds a feast of miniature treats. tiny gingerbread cookies, iced with intricate designs, sit in a bowl, waiting to be enjoyed by you and your girlfriend. plates of assorted candies and chocolates are arranged, slowly dwindling as your hands continue to dig into the bowl for more material.

the two of you continued working on the gingerbread house, your playful banter and teasing gradually fading into a comfortable silence. as you placed the final touches, the gingerbread apartment began to take shape, looking like a cozy little abode.

both of you stepped back, admiring your handiwork. the walls were neatly decorated with frosting trim, the roof had a snowy white frosting coating, and the windows were outlined with colorful candies. it was painfully over-stimulating to the eyes of anyone who hates christmas, but also beautiful.

gwen reached out and took your hand in hers, squeezing it gently. "look at that! we make quite the dynamic duo, don't we?" she remarked, a bit too prideful of her mediocre work. "our gingerbread house is the envy of all gingerbread houses.”

you continue to stare at it, finally realizing why it bothered you. “it’s missing something,” you put simply. “we need to add the little people who will live in this apartment.”

gwen nodded in agreement, leaning a bit onto your shoulder to see from your perspective. "you're right, it needs some little residents to bring it to life," she replied, her mind already racing with ideas.

she reached for the bowl of extra gingerbread dough and started rolling it out. gwen looked over at you, a soft yet evident grin on her face. "how about we make gingerbread versions of ourselves? it'll be like a little homage to us," she suggested, a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

gwen began cutting out the shapes, carefully crafting miniature versions of the both of you with the dough. as she added the details, gwen couldn't help but chuckle at the tiny gingerbread drum set she included for her miniature self.

once the dough was baked and cooled, you set to work on decorating our gingerbread doppelgangers.

as gwen rummages through her cabinets, retrieving an array of icing tubes, a flicker of suspicion tugs at the corners of your mind. the sheer variety she has in her possession leaves you slightly amazed, as well as curious and a bit concerned. nonetheless, you set aside your intrigue and begin piping the features of your gingerbread creation, starting with your own skin tone, meticulously crafting every detail.

glancing over at gwen's side, a knowing smirk graces your lips as you catch a glimpse of her artistic endeavors. with precision and flair, she expertly pipes her iconic half-shaved hairstyle onto the gingerbread figure. the piercing blue eyes she possesses, which sometimes give you the creeps, are replicated with remarkable accuracy. the adorable ensemble of wide-legged jeans, converse shoes, and a shirt adorned with a hand-drawn heart catches your attention. squinting slightly, you can read word for word what it says.

"i heart my girlfriend?" you repeat aloud, surprise evident in your voice.

gwen's laughter rings out, full and infectious. "you took the words out of my mouth," she playfully teases, reveling in the shared sentiment.

unable to resist the warmth that spreads across your face, you steal a glance to your right, discovering that gwen has already crafted a little gingerbread man of her father. turning your attention back to your own mini-you, you work diligently, not wanting to fall behind the swift pace set by your girlfriend.

as you finished and placed the gingerbread versions of yourselves inside the gingerbread house, it truly came to life.

you stepped back, taking in the sight of your creation one final time. "perfect," you declared, a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction filling you.

"it’s so perfect,” gwen adds, mimicking what you said.

you let out an exaggerated eye-roll, your playful annoyance evident. "well, thanks for that," you quip, though your words are tinged with a hint of amusement. but then, as a mischievous thought strikes you, you freeze in mock disbelief, placing your hands dramatically on your head.

in a sarcastically shocked tone, you inquire, "but wait... who will protect them from harm?" your voice drips with playful melodrama, heightening the comedic effect of your question.

slowly turning towards her, you meet her gaze, awaiting her response. with a mischievous grin, she finally breaks her silence.

"i'm so glad you asked," she declares.

in one swift motion, gwen lifts her mini gingerbread representation of herself and playfully makes it leap onto the roof of the gingerbread apartment. as she rotates it, a delightful surprise is revealed—the infamous ghost spider suit, meticulously piped onto the other side down to the mask to the teal ballet slippers.

"don't worry," gwen reassures you with a touch of theatrical flair, "i'll be there to save my damsel in distress."

you try to maintain an unamused expression, your face fighting back a smile as you struggle not to burst into laughter.

gwen couldn't help but break into uncontrollable laughs at your reaction, her shoulders shaking with mirth.

"surprise!" she exclaimed, unable to contain her amusement. "you didn’t think i would add the one and only spider woman of new york? you had to have seen this coming."

gwen playfully made her mini gingerbread ghost spider do a little victory dance on the roof of the gingerbread apartment, reveling in the silliness of it all. but beneath the lightheartedness, there was a hint of truth to her words.

she walked over to you, wrapping her arms around your waist, laughter subsiding into a warm smile. "but y’know, i don't need a superhero suit to be your hero," she whispered.

gwen couldn't help but lean in again, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, the taste of frosting still lingering.

both of you erupted into laughter, unable to contain your amusement at gwen's joke. the joyful sound filled the room until it was cut short as the door knob turned and the door abruptly swung open, revealing gwen's father returning home from his shift at the station.

"how's it going, girls..." his voice trailed off, his steps slowing as he took in the unexpected scene before him.

the air was thick with the scent of frosting, and the room bore witness to a delightful chaos of flour, candies, and scattered decorations. but amidst the mess, the most prominent sight was your meticulously crafted miniature replica of the apartment.

you both froze in place as her dad's voice filled the room, a mix of embarrassment and panic coursing through your girlfriend's veins. she turned to face him, cheeks burning with a bright shade of red she usually rocked when embarrassed. "uh... hey, dad," gwen stammered, trying to sound casual despite the chaos surrounding you both.

gwen quickly glanced at you, hoping to find some solace in the situation, but it seemed like you were just as caught off guard as her. she could practically hear the gears turning in her dad's head as he tried to make sense of the scene before him.

before he could say anything, gwen took a deep breath and mustered up all the confidence she could. "surprise, dad! we made a gingerbread apartment!" she blurted out, gesturing towards your creation. "and, uh, we may have gotten a little carried away with the frosting and...stuff.”

“stuff?” george repeated, stepping closer to the counter to get an even better look at the creation. you could see her dad's expression soften as he took in the sight, his lips twitching with the hint of a smile. "well, it certainly looks like you two had a blast," he chuckled, shaking his head. "just make sure to clean up after yourselves, alright?"

in perfect synchrony, your voices blend seamlessly as you both respond simultaneously with the words "of course, mr. stacy" and "yes, dad.”

relief washed over you both as you realized her dad wasn't angry or upset. he understood that sometimes you both could get a little carried away with our antics. you both nodded vigorously, already planning on how to tackle the mess.

as her dad left the kitchen, she turned to you with a sheepish smile. "well, that could have gone worse," gwen affirmed, relief evident in the way her chest exhaled. "looks like we'll have a lot of cleaning up to do, huh?"

“a lot seems like an oversimplification of it,” you groan, looking around at the absolute mess you both made of the kitchen. “and here i thought we was finally gonna eat the damn thing”

gwen grabbed a nearby towel and started wiping the frosting off the table, motioning for you to join her. "but you know what they say, babe. teamwork makes the dream work," she added, causing you to instinctually roll your eyes yet again.

as you diligently sweep the floor, meticulously wash down the counters, and even kneel down to scrub away any lingering evidence of your reckless baking, your eyes continue to wander back to the oh so enchanting gingerbread house. its intricate details and sugary allure beckon you, tempting your senses to just skip the cleaning and go straight to dessert. from a distance, gwen chuckles playfully as she attentively wipes down the inside of the stove.

"ahem," she interrupts. "i must kindly request that you refrain from placing your little grimy hands on our masterpiece," gwen mockingly asserts.

she pauses, allowing a moment for her words to sink in. "please, let it exist in its full glory for at least thirty more minutes," she pleads, a hint of jest coloring her voice. "or, if you can't resist, at least capture its beauty on your phone before you rip it apart."

a deep sigh escaped from your lips as you surrender to your girlfriend, continuing to guide the broom across the floor.

- comments and reblogs are appreciated!

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culinarycanvas · 6 months

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#art #food #food art #healthy food #culinary canvas #food artist #food photography #foodart #artists on tumblr #happy halloween #halloween food #halloween #happy halloweeeeeeen #halloween inspo #ghosts

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ricciardosheart · 4 months

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Starry Serenade on the Riviera - cl16

pairings: Charles Leclerc X female (gf! reader)

Charles, with a sparkle in his eyes, entered their home holding a bouquet of (Y/N)'s favorite flowers. The room seemed to brighten as he approached her, a playful grin dancing on his lips. "Hey there, beautiful," he whispered, presenting the flowers.

The Mediterranean sunbathed Monaco in a warm embrace as (Y/N) nestled into the comforts of their shared home. The gentle hum of the waves drifted through the open windows, providing a harmonious soundtrack to her peaceful afternoon. Little did she know, Charles Leclerc, the Formula 1 sensation and her adoring boyfriend, was orchestrating a surprise that would transform this ordinary day into an enchanting tale.

A gasp of delight escaped (Y/N)'s lips as she accepted the bouquet. "Charles! What's all this?"

"I thought we could use a little break," he revealed, his voice laced with excitement. "How about a special date on a yacht?"

Her eyes widened with anticipation. "A yacht? Seriously?"

Charles nodded, the mischievous glint in his eyes intensifying. "I thought we could spend the day cruising along the French Riviera, just you and me."

A radiant smile adorned (Y/N)'s face. "That sounds amazing!"

The next scene unfolded on the deck of a sleek yacht, elegantly cutting through the azure waters of the Mediterranean. The sun played hide-and-seek with the clouds, casting a golden glow that danced on the waves. The couple stepped aboard, greeted warmly by the captain, who saluted Charles with a knowing smile.

The yacht set sail, leaving the coastline of Monaco behind. Charles and (Y/N) found themselves alone, surrounded by the vast expanse of the sea. The air was imbued with a sense of adventure and romance as the yacht gracefully sailed along the French Riviera.

On the deck, a table awaited them, adorned with fine linens, silverware, and crystal glasses. A private chef, part of Charles's meticulous plan, stood ready to craft a culinary masterpiece. The couple indulged in a feast of fresh seafood, delicate flavors dancing on their palates, while the sea breeze carried the scent of the ocean.

As the day unfolded, the sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. Charles and (Y/N) settled into plush lounge chairs on the yacht's deck, wrapped in blankets against the cooling breeze. The sky transformed into a breathtaking canvas of colors, a testament to nature's artistry.

Charles, ever the thoughtful planner, produced a tablet for a private movie screening. The yacht became their own floating cinema, surrounded by the tranquil sounds of the sea. Laughter and the soft murmur of waves intertwined as they enjoyed their favorite film, the screen competing with the mesmerizing spectacle of the sunset.

The atmosphere was nothing short of magical as the yacht sailed through the twilight waters. The couple, lost in the beauty of the moment, reveled in the serenity of the French Riviera at dusk.

With the movie credits rolling, Charles suggested a change of scenery. "How about lying down to enjoy the stars?" he proposed, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. They found a cozy spot on the yacht's deck, blankets pulled tight around them, and looked up at the night sky.

The stars above sparkled like diamonds, casting a celestial glow over the couple. Charles pointed out constellations, weaving stories in the night sky. (Y/N)'s heart swelled with gratitude for the extraordinary day and the extraordinary man beside her.

"I've never experienced anything like this," she confessed, her eyes reflecting the luminous beauty around them.

Charles, his gaze fixed on the twinkling stars, replied, "There's nothing more special than sharing moments like these with you."

Under the cosmic embrace of the French Riviera's night, Charles and (Y/N) lay hand in hand, creating memories that transcended time. The yacht sailed on, leaving a trail of stardust on the Mediterranean, etching their love story into the fabric of the universe.

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 23 days

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Hi Brainrot!! How would M6 season plain food like porridge? Would they add unbearable amounts of pepper and spices or suck it up and down that glob of plain, watery rice?

The Arcana Mini-HCs: M6 eating bland food

Also, some full HCs from forever ago: M6 eating spicy food

Julian: look, bland diets can be really good for people with an upset stomach! one bite later he's reaching for the salt and pretending it's just like what the grandmas used to make (it's not, don't insult them)

Asra: you see a bland glob of porridge. they see a blank canvas. he's about to create something very, very weird creative and the kitchen is about to become a warzone his studio for culinary arts. good luck

Nadia: would rather miss it and wait for the next meal. unless it's been served to her as an act of hospitality or if you made it, in which case she's eating it as is with the most serene smile you've ever seen

Muriel: nothing fazes him. nothing. if he shows any hesitance to eat, it's because he's worried that he took too much and that someone else might need it more. otherwise it's all going down the hatch

Portia: if she's in her own kitchen, she's transforming it into a sugary, cinnamonny, maple-y delight of a porridge and pulling out some fresh cream to pour on top. nobody goes poorly fed in her presence

Lucio: takes one bite, loudly complains, and then continues eating it until his bowl is scraped clean. if there's one thing you learn in the army/his clan it's that food is fuel and fuel is necessary for survival

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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mewpangxin · 8 months

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⊹˚ Loneliness ࿐

FT. Malleus Draconia X GN! Reader.

( TW: Angst — It's Malleus suffering hours! )

“Is there a point to be a king if I'm unwanted? What use is my power if it's not for you?”

─── ‎♪ 𓈒𓂃꙳･ ꪔ̤̥ ‎♪ 𓈒𓂃꙳ ───

𓆸 AND WHAT COMES to one's head when you say his name? Would it be the congeniality? Liveliness? He believes not, it's horror that strikes their beings.

Perhaps he was destined to linger like this.

And he did until you tumbled into him that is.

You were a bearer of a plethora of aliases by them.

A magicless student.

A beast tamer.

An enigma.

You were well-known in the beginning because of the absurdity your crew did. Malleus was worried for you, why are you always in risky situations as these?

He grew accustomed to being with you.

His mind revolves around what you say, your capabilities and your thoughts about his character.

Malleus treasures you.. he understands this.

However, he could not confess even if you may be viewing him in the same way as how he sees you.

That's what this means to be a prince.

You don't know how much it anguished him for it.

To love in which he has no right to have.

•━━━━༻❝ 🐉 ❞༺ ━━━━•

Lilia helps him with his skills in culinary.

Malleus turns that down and went away.

He was appreciative.. since he doesn't have the appetite, the housewarden gloomily walked out.

A wise decision.

•━━━━༻❝ 🐉 ❞༺ ━━━━•

He thought of scenarios about this.. what if you choose Twisted Wonderland? What if you like him?

Would he be able to give up being an heir?

To forgone— everyone and it all for you?

The answer to this was unputdownable.

Because he does not understand how he'll select.

And will you call him as yours?

Malleus can dream about those illusions of his.

Not that it can ever be a reality.

“Hoho~ What could be troubling you?”

The older fae swooshed in from a tree branch above, his vice head had that cheery grin radiating to him.

“It's nothing. I am strolling here as per usual.”

“Drop that, you are thinking about that person, aren't you, hm? Why the solemnity and no less by you?”

The housewarden of Disasomnia wished Lilia was not as discerning, though he was a general before. Why wouldn't he be witty or profound than Malleus?

“.. Something in me said that I should whisk them away from here and take them to a faraway...”

The taller male admits his deplorable behavior.

“I could make that true for you.”

Who was Lilia to go against his words?

“Humans wouldn't be okay with it.”

Malleus spoke as he halted before Lilia persisted.

“Child, when were we heroes in these stories? If you don't do anything to it, you'll hurt yourself.”

Is that it? The dorm leader carped at this.

“I care for them, so I will not..”

And in his, it rung out pyrrhic and empty to himself.

“You'll torment yourself, Malleus.”

And you'll be saddened after it— was unsaid.

“Then so be it.”

It came out as he gazed the horizon, cloudless nights with moonlight shining through. It seems he was a blank canvas, he was doomed to be by himself.

The protector did not look frisky with him.

His poignancy will be worth your smile, it has to be.

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia x reader #twst x you #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x you #twst imagines #twst prompts #twst malleus x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst scenarios #disney twst #gender neutral reader

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ladykinrannoch · 10 days

Text

Figured it out!

It's been bothering me how poorly written the puff pieces about the jam scam and then it hit me! I figured it out! She doesn't write it herself she gets Chat GPT to write it.

Here is my test run:

You:

Can you write me a critique of Meghan Markle's American Riviera Orchard jam, it should be as flowery as possible and funny. The tone should be that the jam is yummy.

ChatGPT:

Certainly! Here's a whimsically flowery critique of Meghan Markle's American Riviera Orchard jam:

Oh, sweet celestial orbs of delight! Let me regale you with a tale spun from the threads of flavor and the whispers of taste. Behold, the illustrious creation that dances upon the palate like a jubilant symphony – Meghan Markle's American Riviera Orchard jam!

Picture, if you will, a pastoral scene where ripe fruit blushes beneath the warm embrace of the sun, each berry plump with anticipation, bursting forth with the essence of California's bountiful harvest. This jam, this ambrosial elixir, captures the very spirit of that sun-kissed orchard, preserving its essence in a jar with the care and finesse of a master alchemist.

From the very first spoonful, one is transported on a gustatory voyage, traversing rolling hills of strawberry fields and citrus groves, with a chorus of tangy sweetness serenading the senses. The strawberries, like ruby jewels, impart a luscious melody of summer, while the citrus notes pirouette delicately on the tongue, a graceful ballet of zest and zestfulness.

But ah, dear epicurean adventurers, do not mistake this jam for mere sustenance! No, it is a culinary treasure trove, a veritable Pandora's jar of gastronomic wonders. Spread it upon your morning toast and experience a breakfast fit for royalty, or perhaps indulge in a midday repast, where its ambrosial charms will elevate even the humblest of snacks to a feast of the senses.

And let us not forget the delightful whimsy of its creator, Meghan Markle, whose passion for the culinary arts shines through in every jar. For in her hands, the humble fruit becomes a canvas upon which she paints her epicurean dreams, infusing each batch with a sprinkle of stardust and a dash of mischief.

So, dear connoisseurs of the delectable, heed my words and seek out this celestial nectar with all haste! Let Meghan Markle's American Riviera Orchard jam be your guide on a journey of epicurean ecstasy, where each spoonful is a testament to the boundless wonders of flavor and the inexhaustible joy of good food.

In conclusion, to taste this jam is to embark upon a culinary odyssey, a voyage of discovery that tantalizes the taste buds and nourishes the soul. So go forth, dear epicureans, and may your jars be ever filled with the ambrosial delights of Meghan Markle's American Riviera Orchard jam!

#british royal family #harry and meghan #scamjam #jamscam #meghanmarkle #I am such a fraud! LOL

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circuschroniclescritter · 1 month

Text

Hello! I'm the mod, you can call me Mod Circus.

Please respect that this blog is both as canon but also an What If Au of the smiling critters circus au! It's also mostly headcanons, so some stuff might not be accurate or in character.

I am a college student who enjoys roleplaying and making up aus! I am a sys as well, along with a protective sibling type! If you need any help or advice, DM me!

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✦‎۟ Warning~!✦‎۟

This blog may contain cursing and heavy topics such as mental breakdowns, Violence, panic attacks, and stuff similar to that. Mod is a adult, but keep sexual topics will be kept to a minimum due to minors might stumble on here.

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Role-playing as:

(Dogday) Sol: Ringmaster | A master of the circus domain, guiding with a firm hand and sharp wit. But something..is always odd with him..

(Bobby) Loveote: Aerial Artisan | Former enchantress of the skies, her captivating performances left audiences spellbound. What led to her retirement remains a mystery, adding allure to her legend.

(Hoppy) Cylde: Gymnastic Adventurer | Fearlessly exploring new heights and depths, with a penchant for defying gravity. While the wheel of death may be her claimed favorite, her heart truly belongs to the thrill of the gym wheel.

(Kickin') Rooster: Daredevil Dynamo | Known for his daring stunts that leave him scarred but undefeated, he embodies the spirit of resilience in the face of danger.

(Bubba) Logic: Director of Precision | The cornerstone of the circus, his ingenious planning ensures a seamless blend of safety and spectacle, essential for keeping the show running smoothly.

(Crafty) Jasmine: Enigmatic Enchanter | Weaving magic through her graceful movements, she enchants audiences with her mesmerizing performances. Yet, behind her mask lies a mystery waiting to be unraveled.

(Picky Pig) Bajie: Culinary Connoisseur | A culinary maestro who tantalizes taste buds and hearts alike, her expertise in both food and animal handling adds a touch of whimsy and delight to the circus experience.

(Catnap) Nightlight: Aerial Artistry Maestro | A seasoned clown with a timeless charm, his mastery of aerial hoop and cloud swing keeps audiences laughing and gasping in awe, ensuring his place as a beloved icon of the circus.

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Other People?

Empty....

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------------------------------------------- Mod Circus---------------------

Circus AU! Critters

In a world where the spotlight fades and the laughter echoes emptily, lies the tale of resilient spirits finding solace and purpose under the canvas of a traveling circus. These smiling critters, once disparate souls, now weave a tapestry of camaraderie amidst the neglect of their props, the decay of their food, and the echoing silence of the empty stands.

Their ringmaster, a figure of cruelty veiled in showmanship, lords over them like a dark cloud, siphoning their hard-earned coins for his vices, leaving them with little but shattered dreams and bitter disillusionment. Yet, amidst the ruins of their hopes, they persist. With over thirty determined souls, they toil tirelessly, supplementing their meager earnings with side jobs, scraping together every penny in a desperate bid to salvage their tarnished circus. But fate, it seems, has other plans. Their efforts are dashed, their dreams shattered, as their treacherous ringmaster absconds with their savings, leaving them stranded and forsaken at desolate train stations, their spirits hanging by a thread.

Just when all seems lost, a beacon of hope emerges. A man , garbed in resplendent ringmaster attire, approaches them with outstretched arms and a promise of redemption. His own circus troupe having disbanded, he seeks to breathe new life into their weary souls, offering them a chance to join him under the canopy of his enchanted circus. It's a leap of faith, a gamble against the odds,

but in the depths of their despair, they find themselves drawn to this man who weaves tales of magic and wonder. And so, with hesitant hearts and trembling hands, they take their first step into a world where the impossible reigns supreme, where dreams take flight on wings of stardust, and where, perhaps, they will find the family they've longed for amidst the flickering lights of the circus tent.

[You can draw version of them! Please credit me for the characters/Aus]

-------Mod Circus Baby---------

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #smiling critters #DogDay #CatNap #bubba bubbaphant #picky piggy #bobby bearhug #craftycorn #hoppy hopscotch #kickinchicken #Deep Sleep #Poppy playtime chapter 3 deep sleep #ask blog #asks #Mod Circus Baby Speaking

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princess-sof-time · 10 months

Note

Could you do headcanons for what an ideal date for Aqua, Ruby, Ai, and Akane with their s/o?

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🄰🅀🅄🄰 🄷🄾🅂🄷🄸🄽🄾

• Aqua, being a lover of nature, would find his ideal date in the serene beauty of a peaceful park or garden. He would enjoy taking a leisurely stroll hand in hand with his S/O, surrounded by vibrant flowers and lush greenery. The scent of blooming blossoms would fill the air, adding a touch of romance to the atmosphere.

• During their walk, Aqua would cherish the opportunity to engage in deep conversations with his S/O. He appreciates meaningful connections and longs to share his innermost thoughts, dreams, and aspirations. As they meander along the winding paths, Aqua would eagerly listen to his S/O, cherishing the bond they share and finding solace in their understanding.

• For Aqua, a picnic would be the perfect way to spend quality time together. He would put effort into preparing a delicious spread of their favorite foods, carefully packing a basket filled with culinary delights. As they settle down on a cozy blanket under the shade of a towering tree, Aqua would savor every bite, relishing not only the flavors but also the joy of sharing the meal with his S/O. Laughter and lighthearted conversations would fill the air as they create lasting memories and strengthen their connection.

• As the day turns to dusk, Aqua's excitement would grow as he suggests ending the date with a captivating display of nature's wonders. Finding a spot away from city lights, they would lay back and gaze up at the night sky, mesmerized by the vastness and beauty of the cosmos. Aqua would point out constellations and share his fascination with celestial bodies, finding solace in the quiet moments spent together under the twinkling stars. The peacefulness of the night and the shared experience would make Aqua's heart flutter, knowing that he is sharing this magical moment with his S/O, the person who truly understands and appreciates his love for the cosmos.

• Aqua's ideal date would revolve around his love for nature. A peaceful walk in a beautiful park or garden, accompanied by deep conversations and shared dreams, would create an intimate and profound connection between Aqua and his S/O. A delightful picnic filled with delicious food would further strengthen their bond and create lasting memories. Ending the date with stargazing under the clear night sky would evoke a sense of wonder and enchantment, allowing Aqua to share his passion for the cosmos with his S/O.

🅁🅄🄱🅈 🄷🄾🅂🄷🄸🄽🄾

• Ruby, being a fan of arts and culture, would find her ideal date immersed in the world of creativity. She would love to spend the day with her S/O exploring an art exhibition or visiting a museum. As they stroll through the galleries, Ruby's eyes would sparkle with admiration as she takes in the intricate brushstrokes, captivating sculptures, and thought-provoking installations. She would share her own artistic aspirations and inspirations with her S/O, allowing them to understand her on a deeper level.

• To further ignite their creative spirits, Ruby would suggest taking a pottery or painting class together. As they mold clay or stroke paintbrushes across a canvas, they would share laughter and support, reveling in the joy of creating something unique. Ruby would find immense happiness in seeing her S/O's artistic side bloom, and their shared experience would strengthen their bond.

• As the day transitions into evening, Ruby would seek a cozy and intimate atmosphere for their dinner. She would choose a quaint café with a warm ambiance, where they can indulge in delicious treats and engage in meaningful conversations. Over cups of steaming coffee or plates of delectable desserts, Ruby and her S/O would share their thoughts, dreams, and aspirations, creating a safe space for vulnerability and connection.

• To conclude their date, Ruby would suggest a movie night, cuddled up together under a soft blanket. They would watch their favorite films, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence. As they share laughs, tears, and moments of suspense, Ruby would feel a sense of warmth and contentment, grateful to have found someone who appreciates both her artistic passions and the simple joys of being together.

• Ruby's ideal date revolves around arts, creativity, and meaningful connections. Visiting an art exhibition or museum allows her to share her passion for creativity with her S/O, while taking a pottery or painting class together creates an interactive and fun experience. Enjoying a cozy dinner at a quaint café provides an intimate atmosphere for heartfelt conversations. Ending the date with a movie night allows them to unwind and find comfort in each other's arms. Through these shared experiences, Ruby and her S/O strengthen their bond and create lasting memories filled with artistic inspiration and warm moments of togetherness.

🄰🄸 🄷🄾🅂🄷🄸🄽🄾

• Ai, with her appreciation for simple yet meaningful experiences, would find her ideal date in the tranquility of a quiet bookstore or library. She would delight in the hushed atmosphere as she and her S/O browse through the shelves, exploring the vast world of literature. They would recommend books to each other, sharing their favorite reads and engaging in thought-provoking discussions. Ai's eyes would sparkle with excitement as she discovers new stories and ideas, cherishing the moments of intellectual connection with her S/O.

• To continue the peaceful ambiance, Ai would suggest taking a serene walk by the beach or visiting a scenic spot. The rhythmic sound of crashing waves or the panoramic view of nature's beauty would create the perfect backdrop for Ai to open up and share her thoughts and emotions. She would find solace in the gentle breeze, finding comfort in the presence of her S/O as they engage in heartfelt conversations. Through these intimate moments, Ai and her S/O would deepen their emotional connection and strengthen their bond.

• For their next experience, Ai would appreciate a heartfelt home-cooked meal. The intimate setting of a cozy dining room or a candlelit patio would allow them to enjoy each other's company without distractions. As they savor the flavors of a delicious meal, prepared with care and love, Ai would feel a deep sense of contentment, knowing that she is sharing this intimate moment with her S/O. The simplicity of the setting would create a space for genuine conversations and a deeper understanding of each other's hopes, dreams, and aspirations.

• To conclude their date, Ai would suggest strolling through a local park, hand in hand with her S/O. They would immerse themselves in the beauty of nature, as they admire the blooming flowers, listen to the songs of birds, and feel the gentle touch of the wind. Ai would find tranquility in the peaceful surroundings, and the physical connection with her S/O would bring a sense of warmth and security to her heart. Together, they would create lasting memories as they explore the park, cherishing the simplicity and beauty of the moment.

• Ai's ideal date revolves around simplicity, meaningful connections, and appreciation for the small joys in life. A quiet bookstore or library visit allows her to share her love for literature and engage in intellectual conversations. A serene walk by the beach or a scenic spot provides an opportunity for heartfelt discussions and emotional connection. Enjoying a heartfelt home-cooked meal in an intimate setting deepens their bond. Ending the date with a stroll through a local park envelops Ai in tranquility and allows her to find solace and contentment in the beauty of nature and the physical connection with her S/O. Through these experiences, Ai and her S/O create a deep and meaningful connection, forging memories that will be treasured for a lifetime.

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• Akane, with her love for adventure and excitement, would find her ideal date in the thrill and adrenaline of an amusement park. The moment she steps foot into the park, her eyes would light up with anticipation as she eagerly takes on every ride and attraction. Riding roller coasters that twist, turn, and loop would make her heart race with joy, and she would hold onto her S/O's hand tightly, sharing both laughter and exhilaration as they conquer each thrilling experience together. They would indulge in playful competition at game booths, winning prizes for each other and reveling in the excitement of friendly rivalry. The energy and vibrant atmosphere of the amusement park would make Akane's heart soar as she embraces the adventure and creates unforgettable memories with her S/O.

• To satisfy Akane's love for good food and culinary experiences, she would suggest trying out a new and unique restaurant or exploring a food festival. Akane appreciates the flavors and textures of different cuisines, and she would eagerly delve into each dish, savoring every bite. Sharing their favorite dishes, exploring new flavors, and indulging in sweet treats would not only tantalize their taste buds but also deepen their bond as they share their culinary discoveries and preferences. Akane's eyes would sparkle with delight as she discovers hidden gems and unique gastronomic delights, making this part of the date a true feast for the senses.

• An active and physically challenging date would also be on Akane's agenda. She would suggest a hike through a scenic trail or a biking adventure in nature, where they can challenge themselves and immerse themselves in the beauty of their surroundings. Akane would appreciate the opportunity to engage in a shared physical activity with her S/O, experiencing the rush of adrenaline as they conquer challenging trails or navigate through winding paths. The natural surroundings would provide a serene backdrop for them to connect on a deeper level, sharing laughter, breathless moments, and a sense of accomplishment.

• As the day draws to a close, Akane would surprise her S/O with an unexpected activity. It could be an impromptu karaoke session, where they unleash their inner divas and sing their hearts out, creating memories filled with laughter and fun. Alternatively, a spontaneous dance class would get their bodies moving, allowing Akane to showcase her energetic and lively spirit. The surprise activity would bring a sense of anticipation and delight to Akane, as she loves embracing the unexpected and keeping the excitement alive.

• Akane's ideal date revolves around adventure, excitement, and shared experiences. A day at an amusement park allows her to indulge in thrilling rides and playful competition, creating unforgettable memories. Exploring new restaurants or food festivals satisfies her love for good food and culinary adventures. Engaging in an active date, such as hiking or biking, challenges her physically while strengthening the bond with her S/O. Ending the date with a surprise activity, like karaoke or a dance class, adds an element of spontaneity and keeps the excitement alive. Through these experiences, Akane and her S/O embark on a thrilling journey of adventure, laughter, and shared moments that bring them closer together.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ──────

#oshi no ko x reader #aqua hoshino x reader #adult ruby hoshino #ai hoshino x reader #akane kurokawa x reader

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