#(those pastries though? HELL YEAH)

[doktorpfannkuchen]

🍽 source: Dr. Oetker Schulkochbuch für den Elektroherd (translation: Dr. Oetker school cook book for the electric stove) ➛ publisher: Ceres-Verlag Rudolf-August Oetker KG ➛ 16th Improved Edition 1969 ➛ Printed in Germany

[babiicatt]

nsfw! remmick + f!preachers daughter!reader, rem is a total soft, needy dom, totally awkward, totally loser-y, extremely dubious consent in the beginning, never ever proofread, oral on fem.

I don't think that remmy ever got any pretty little maidens back in his day, subsequently because of his nervous, eager nature that he has carried through his vampire years.

that being said, it doesn't seem to stop him from tripping over himself when you sees you go by, making you feel awfully sorry for guy. just some new guy in town and he's already making a fool of himself for you - which makes you pretend not to notice the way he's everywhere you are, like a persistent shadow dogging at the heels of your feet.

you've been taught to be sympathetic to those in need, which only feeds into remmick's hopes when you return his stumbling words with your own soft n sweet ones. even just a hello from the preachers daughter and the Irish man felt like you had saved his soul.

and maybe remmick liked you (too much), not that he would ever say it. and you had to go and invite him to church and bring him home-baked pastries - things you did for everyone, though he would think otherwise - hell, you even had him even believing that you were wearing your skirts just a tad shorter for him.

so why are you surprised when he offers to walk around the forest trails with you that he's trying to kiss you?

"you're- you're just being too touchy, I think, is all," your voice like a bible hymn as you try to tell him off as politely as your daddy raised you too, head lilting far to evade his lips. "why, sweetheart," he's cooing to you in that southern drawl, "it ain't sex," he lets out with a chuckle as if you needed teachings in the way of god.

as he gets closer and closer, you put your hands to his chest, not pushing him away, but not bringing him any closer, either. "I know-" you stop, lowering your voice despite having nothing around you two for a few miles except the whispering of the wind, "I know that, but I'm just not ready-"

"oh, please baby, shh," he's shushing you, "you don't know what you want," and he believes what he says. why, he's a few hundred year old vampire, and you're just a little dolly thing. "I-i know you need this as much as I do," his statement upheld as his lips find yours, shutting you up even more effectively than before, ignoring the way your hands try to push him off.

"you don't know what you need," his voice promising you this as his lips slam against yours as his hands go and fumble to bunch up your skirt.

"no, no, none of that," he condescends you as you gasp and muscles make your arms move to go and push your skirt back down. "you'll see, sweet thing," his voice rasping a bit more as his nails take a dig at your panties, pulling them down, "you'll feel it, too. see n feel how you need me, how good I can be to you."

before you know it, his lips are suckling on your clit and fingers in your cunt as he looks up at you with those puppy dog eyes, everything about him feeling disgustingly good. "oh, you're just perfect. taste like peaches n cream," his speech muffled as he makes out with your pussy, voice barely making it up to your ears over your little moans you try so desperately to cage in your throat.

still, you can't help that when he gives your cunt a particularly perfect thrust of his fingers that you get louder and your hands go to his hair, tousling it to an even messier state than it had been in before. "o-ohhh, rem," you cry softly, tears that had been clinging to your bottom lashes drop.

"I know baby, I know," his other hand patting your thigh as his tongue works over your clit, "you gonna come for me baby? gonna be a good girl n finish?" his coaxing words making your pussy flutter, which made him smile against your soaking slit.

"yeah, you are," said before finishing you off with a particularly harsh suck to your clit, making your knees buckle, threatening your balance.

never a neglectful lover, remmick licks up the rest of your slick, cleaning you with his tongue before placing a lasting kiss on your slit before retracting himself from you. sitting back on his knees, his hands work up and down your thighs as he looks up at you with that adoring expression. "did you feel good, doll?"

[lovverletters]

made with love . . !

yan baker x gn reader

tw/ soft to unhinged yan, huge misunderstanding, murders, implied stalking, implied bugging ur house, typical yan behaviour, implied food tampering 'special' ingredients : possibly human remains, bodily fluids, 100% love.

this was long. enjoy it my pearlings ❤

. . . 🍒

the first time you stumbled upon a quaint little bakery was on valentine's day. you were planning on picking up a few pastries to enjoy while you spend the day on your own again.

you were surprised to see that it had only a few patrons inside as you enter the bakery, the doorbell ringing as you walked through the door. behind the counter was whom you presume is the owner.

despite the back breaking labour combined with managing the establishment all by himself, he surprisingly looked quite. . . attractive. you shook your silly thoughts away.

are you really that lonely that you're starting to find someone attractive at most random times?

regardless you're here for a reason. to get some treats to indulge in while watching the tv show you have been putting on hold due to your hectic schedule. you'll just pretend that your pet counts as having a company for valentines.

"welcome! you're just in time, the goods are all fresh out of the oven" he enthusiasticly greets while carefully handling a huge tray of steaming hot bread.

now that he mentions it, you had been so distracted by your own thoughts to notice the strong aroma of fresh baked goods that's wafting in the air. your mouth almost salivates as you noticed him stocking up your favourite sweets, [f/s].

it looked appetizing enough to tempt you, if the taste is anything like the appearance. . . you're probably going to buy at least 15 of those.

once again lost in your own world, you didn't notice the curious look the baker had given you. it was endearing really, never had he met someone whom were so enthralled by a pastries in his life. plus, you were a first time customer of his too.

he's pretty sure you're a local, he had seen you walk passed his bakery countless time before but it's a different experience to see you in front of him.

"do you like [f/s]? that's my specialty actually" he lies for absolutely no reason. other than to impress you of course.

don't blame him for shooting his shot, you're a catch!

"uh yeah. i'll take 15 of those, please" you averted your eyes at the last part.

the baker only smiled, he was unfazed and bagged up your pastries. but he also bagged up 5 more of [f/s] in a separate bag and placed it at the counter where you're standing at, eager to get home and eat your sweets.

though you noticed the separate bag he placed next to the larger bag. before you could say anything about it he beat you to the punch.

"that's some extra ones free of charge!"

you were stunned. that was unexpected but not unwelcomed. though it did make you a little shy to accept.

"are you sure? you don't have to"

"yeah. take it as a freebie for your first visit to my humble bakery" he assures you.

oh hell yeah. what a great service.

"thanks, i'll be sure to swing by again soon" you took the receipt and waved at the baker as you walked back to your apartment.

you took a bite out of one of the [f/s], it was delicious as you expected. the baker wasn't kidding when he said it was his specialty.

guess you'll be visiting the bakery again soon.

. . . 🍒

it didn't take that long for you to become a regular customer of his.

first of all, the bakery is close to your apartment. second, his baked goods and pastries were absolutely delectable. third and most importantly,

the owner is hot and a total eye candy for you to oogle at.

you're pretty sure anyone would agree after taking one look at him. his body, hardened by the years of hardwork and labour were muscular in all the right places. despite spending a lot of time near a hot oven, he still mantains a youthful look.

if he was single, maybe you'd try to ask him out. maybe though.

cling!

the doorbell rings as you walked in to the bakery after a long day at work. it was quite late, you're surprised he's still open. regardless, you're here to snag some [f/s] and maybe other things that caught your eye.

"hey welcome! great to see you again"

he smiles and greets you as he saw you enters. it's a kind smile, you assumed he gives it to everyone but in your most non delusional opinion, you think he smiles a bit differently when it comes to you. it's wider and sweeter.

"yeah i'm here for the usual. oh, can i get that cheese bread too" nothing wrong with a little bit of cheese action.

"on it!" he breezes through, packing your goods diligently and carefully. once again, you noticed him sneaking in an extra [f/s] again but at this point you already gave up trying to stop him.

"you know you don't have to always give me extras right?"

he simply gave you a coy smile while he rings you up. his eyes widened a fraction and a tinge of blush appeared as your fingers brushed together when he handed the receipt to you.

"but i wanted to though. nothing wrong with being generous to a loyal customer" he lied. he's doing it because he's got a thing for you.

"well, thanks again. i'll try to drop by again tomorrow after workㅡ i think i'm working overtime" you told him. it slips out naturally now that the two of you were somewhat acquainted, at least you were on friendly terms.

"see you tomorrow! thanks for stopping by, [name]!"

he watches as you walks back to your apartment, his eyes not leaving your form until it completely disappears from his line of sights.

he sighed.

did he seriously fell in love with someone he saw regularly? he barely interacts with you outside of the few conversations he'd strike up in a desperate attempt to talk to you. he wanted to be closer to you.

when he got your name, he considers it a big progress in him asking you out. plus, you seems to be interested in him too. he just needs to man up and ask you out the next time you visits.

oh right. he needs to prepare the next batch of [f/s] for tomorrow.

maybe he'll even add something special just for you.

. . . 🍒

you were going to ask him out.

at least that's what you were going to initially until you saw an unexpected sight. you have always presumed he was single, both of you were mutually subtly flirting with each other.

then who is that woman clinging onto him? their proximity was close enough that you no friends and family would ever be. you couldn't see his face but there was a tilt to his lips and he wasn't pushing her away.

your heart stuttered in horror, you were flirting with a taken man?!

"im not about to be label a homewreckㅡ hell no" you shook your head in disbelief.

are you heartbroken? slightly but it pales to the horror of realising you almost made a move on someone's boyfriend or husband. either way a taken man. then embarassment sets in, maybe you've read the signs wrong? maybe he wasn't flirting with you, he was just being nice.

you were just delusional and now you're paying the price. damn that rhymes.

as you were about to walk away, you accidentally ran into someone. great . double the embarassment for today. you were about to apologize when the person stops you, you'd recognized that voice.

"mikael?" it's your best friend from high school.

"clumsy as ever, [n/n]~" he has shit eating grin on his face, something never changes for some people.

he's been a great friend of yours ever since high school up to your uni years. you both lost contact once he moved away, you were sad then but you knew you'll meet him again someday.

you just didn't expect that day to be when you found your crush is possibly married and you nearly became a homewrecker. guess there's always a rainbow after a storm.

"fuck off, you just caught me at a bad time" you scoffed. mikael still had his arms around you, you noted.

"yeah sureㅡ"

clank!

you both turned to the sound of a glass breaking from inside the bakery. then your eyes widened, the baker was looking at you. eye widened, pupils shaking and a bloodied hand. under his feet were shards of broken glasses that he had crushed within his grip.

uh. why is he giving you a look as if you've cheated on him?

the woman who was previously clinging to him, shouts in worry and tried to grab his hand to patch him up but he didn't move an inch. he was rooted at the spot and kept glaring at youㅡ no not at you.

he was glaring at mikael. if he could throw daggers with stares alone, mikael would've been dead by now.

you felt awkward and decided to drag your friend along with you to your apartment. guess you won't be visiting for a while to that bakery.

what's his deal? you wonder.

. . . 🍒

okay. it didn't take long for you to come back to the bakery.

you don't know what he put in his baked goods but goddamnit you're hooked for life. though, you're a bit nervous to face him after the incident. you wanted to ask him so much questions but you realised that you two weren't exactly the closest.

whatever. you're here for [f/s]. you repeated the mantra in your head.

huh. you swore it hadn't been that late but the bakery lights had dimmed. almost as if preparing to close for the day. when you walked in, the air felt stuffy unlike the usual homey feeling to it.

"god. . what's this smell?" the entire place smells rotten with a tangy stentch of metal. it doesn't smell anything like a fresh out of the oven smell of baked goods. it smelled likeㅡ

death.

the baker walks out from the back area, he still had a smile plastered on his face. in his hands were a tray of [f/s] but you couldn't help but feels something off about that particular batch.

"welcome back, [name]. you hadn't stopped by in a while, i was starting to miss you" he said. his was voice devoid of warmth contrary to the smile on his face.

you gulped. something's not right.

". . . yeah. work has been crazy umㅡ can i have the usual" you tried to keep your cool, your instinct screams for you to bolt.

he nods enthusiasticly, bagging up the [f/s] on the tray instead of the ones already in display. you couldn't help but cringe as one of the [f/s] looked soggyㅡ you wanted to ask him about it but your voice was stucked in your throat.

"i made these especially for you. i knew you were going to drop by today so i made a separate one with . . some new secret ingredients for you!" there was a manic glint in his eyes and it's freaking you out.

you snag one of the suspicious [f/s] before he could take it and tore it open with your handㅡ you're not brave enough to eat it. the inside content, instead of a sugary delight was a mush of red. it's too fleshy to be a berry filling and most noticably, it reeks of blood.

you dropped it immediately, disturb by what you had seen. you looked at the baker who was now standing behind you, his arms wrapped around you. he buried his face in the crook of your neck and breathes in your scent.

your body is shaking with paralyzing fear. if it hadn't been for him holding you up, you would've crumbled on the floor.

"mikael" was all he said. your eyes widened, he couldn't meanㅡ

"what did you do to him?!" you shouted at him, demanding explanation. if this was a prank, it's a cruel one.

"now, now. there's no need to raise your voice at me, sweetheart. i'll say this once and i need you to hear it" the baker only shushes you down with his gloved hands. a cruel smile stretched across his lips.

"that. is mikaelㅡ or was mikael. but i did mixed in that irritating bitch" he pointed at the lumpy fleshy mess that was spilling out of the [f/s].

"whaㅡ"

"tell me [name], you could've asked me to clear the misunderstanding. but you ran away with that bastard instead" he sneers as he recalled the day something shifted within him.

he grasps your face and his grip was gentle enough that it won't hurt you but strong enough to keep you in place.

"that bitch. you thought she was my girlfriend right? you could've been any more wrongㅡ she was someone i knew from back then. i had always ignored her but that day she crossed the line" he was shaking with anger, he was going to pop a vein from how enraged he was.

"it was because of her. you ran away to him because of her" his grip was tightening around you.

he inhales sharply, trying to calm himself down before he loses himself completely. the hands on your face fell to his side. you flinched as he buries his face in your shoulder, you couldn't see what his expression he's making but you had a feeling it's frightening.

"but why did you have toㅡ" you choked on your words.

you couldn't bring yourself to say it. the fact that mikael and that woman had been killed by this maniac. from the corner of your eyes, you saw his fists balled up. it was as if he was restraining his anger.

"they deserve it. if it hadn't been for them, we could've been so great. everything was falling into places until they messes it all up!"

huh?

"you wanted to ask me out, i heard you say it before you go to bed every night. that dayㅡ i could've have you but those bastards just have to ruin it for me"

how did heㅡ!

"were you stalking me?!" you were beyond scared by now. this man is an absolute creep and now a murderer.

finally he lifts his face, your heart dropped to your stomach. he had a lovesick look to his faceㅡas if he hadn't confessed to stalking you.

"i love you, [name]. will you be mine?"

what have you gotten yourself into.

[lvnleah]

sweet treats | leah williamson.

You stood in the middle of your kitchen, hands on your hips, surveying the chaos of bowls, measuring spoons, and trays of freshly baked goods. Your Valentine’s and Easter menus needed finalizing, which meant weeks of experimenting with new recipes. The only problem? Your official taste tester was absolutely useless.

Leah had one standard response to everything you gave her and it was driving you insane. 

“It tastes amazing, baby.”

“This is your best recipe yet.”

“God, you’re so talented. How do you do it?”

It was sweet. Adorable, even. But it didn’t help. You needed actual feedback, something beyond heart-eyes and blind adoration. So, after another failed attempt at getting her to critique your latest batch of raspberry almond croissants, you made an executive decision.

You called in reinforcements.

This was why, at this very moment, your kitchen was filled with Beth, Steph, and Kyra, each holding half-eaten pastries, giving actual, honest reviews.

“These are nice,” Beth said, mouth half full of chocolate orange shortbread. “But I think the orange could be a bit stronger?”

Steph pointed at the cinnamon swirl buns. “This icing? Bangin’. The pastry could be flakier, though.”

Kyra just shrugged, “Could be sweeter.”

You nodded, taking notes as they gave their brutally honest opinions.

And then Leah walked in.

She stopped in the doorway, brow furrowing as she took in the scene. The girls, the half-eaten trays of baked goods, the notepad in your hand. Slowly, her gaze landed on you.

“Excuse me,” she said, crossing her arms. “What the hell is going on here?”

You turned innocently. “Oh, hey, love. Just getting some feedback.”

“From them?” Leah’s voice pitched slightly, pointing an accusing finger at your newfound taste-testing squad.

Beth smirked. “Yeah, turns out she wanted actual opinions.”

Steph leaned back against the counter, “You were just too biased, Le.”

“She needed someone who wasn’t blinded by love,” Kyra added. 

Leah’s jaw dropped. “I—blinded by love? That’s ridiculous!”

Beth snorted. “Leah, you told her those shortbread biscuits she burned last week were ‘incredible.’”

Leah scoffed. “They were! Just… extra crunchy.”

Kyra howled with laughter. “You’re so whipped.”

Leah’s offence deepened, lips pressing into a pout as she looked at you. “Can’t believe you’ve replaced me.”

You walked over, wrapping your arms around her waist. “Oh, love, don’t be dramatic.”

Leah huffed but didn’t pull away. “I am dramatic. And I should be your number one taste tester.”

“You were,” you teased. “Until you lost credibility.”

Leah sighed, slumping against you. “Fine. But I don’t like it.”

Beth clapped her on the back. “Welcome to the club, Williamson. We’ve all been replaced by pastries.”

Leah groaned, but when you pressed a quick kiss to her lips, she melted instantly. Maybe the girls were right—maybe she was a little biased.

But could you blame her? You were brilliant. And she was hopelessly in love.

[jungaji]

don't be a stranger

jeong jaehyun x barista!reader ♡

genre: strangers to lovers, fluff (wc: 1429)

jaehyun stood outside the new café, arms crossed, his face pulled into a scowl so intense that even the cheery glow of the place seemed to dim in its presence. the soft hum of conversation and the inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted out the door, but neither did much to improve his mood.

“i’m telling you, woo. this place will never replace 127 Coffee. their coffee’s probably watered down garbage, and just look at that tacky logo... Café 7 Dream? what the hell does that even mean?” jaehyun scoffed, his lips curling as though even the name left a bad taste in his mouth.

jungwoo, undeterred by his friend’s dramatics, burst out laughing, the sound light and carefree as he gave jaehyun a playful shove. “relax…we’re here on important business. you know—research the enemy before we destroy them.” he added a wink for good measure, tugging jaehyun’s shoulder to prevent his stubborn friend from stalking off.

jaehyun sighed, the reluctance practically oozing from him. “this is a waste of my time,” he grumbled but continued to allow jungwoo to pull him inside.

the warm air greeted them immediately, carrying the comforting scent of coffee and pastries. the interior was cozy yet modern, all soft lighting and muted colors that begged customers to linger. 

but jaehyun didn’t notice any of it.

because the moment his gaze landed on you, the entire world seemed to come to a standstill.

you stood behind the counter, your smile soft and inviting as you handed a steaming cup to a customer. the way your fingers danced over the screen as you took orders, the gentle lilt in your voice as you chatted with your co-workers, and the focused little pout you wore as you carefully measured coffee beans—it was as if every detail about you was designed to captivate him.

jaehyun was utterly mesmerized. he didn’t just stop walking; he stopped thinking. he stood there, jaw slack, eyes wide, as his irritation from before evaporated faster than steam from the espresso machine.

jungwoo snapped his fingers in front of jaehyun’s face, before whispering in mock horror, jeong yunoh, snap out of it. what are you doing? we’re here to scope out the enemy, not drool over the barista!”

jaehyun barely registered his friend’s words. his heart thundered in his chest, drowning out everything but the sight of you. his feet moved before his brain could catch up, carrying him towards the counter like he was being drawn by an invisible string.

“hi! welcome to Café 7 Dream,” you greeted him with a smile so warm it could’ve melted glaciers. “what can i get for you today?”

jaehyun opened his mouth, ready to answer, but his brain had officially gone offline. his voice refused to cooperate, resulting in him just staring at you with an intensity that would’ve been unnerving if it weren’t for the soft, almost childlike wonder in his eyes.

jungwoo sighed dramatically, stepping in to rescue his dear friend. “two iced americanos, please,” he said, not before shooting jaehyun a pointed glare.

you nodded, punching the order into the register, as jaehyun snapped out of his trance. “and your number!” he blurted out, his dimpled smile softening the boldness of the request.

“please?”

your cheeks flushed immediately at his request. you were caught off guard, but when you looked at him—truly looked at him, with his sharp jawline, endearing smile and those soft, pleading eyes—you couldn’t help the shy smile that tugged at your lips. “um, y-yeah, sure.”

you quickly scribbled your number on a slip of paper, handing it to him along with the receipt.

jaehyun’s face lit up like a kid who’d just been handed the key to a candy store. and as he grabbed the drinks, he shot you one last wink, his voice low but sweet as honey.

“don’t be a stranger, pretty.”

from that moment on, jaehyun’s life brightened like a hazy sunrise burning through fog. he texted you constantly, his messages playful and sweet as he made an effort to get to know you better. late-night calls became a regular part of your routine, often happening when the stars were too bright and neither of you could fall asleep. his deep, velvety voice lulling you to sleep as you shared stories about your day, your favorite songs, and your childhood dreams.

jaehyun started dropping by Café 7 Dream more than he’d care to admit. even jungwoo gave up on teasing him about it after the fifth time.

you’d often spot him seated by the window, stealing glances at you as you worked. his presence slowly became a comforting part of your routine—something you found yourself looking forward to.

one night, during one of your late-night calls, you noticed something different about him. jaehyun, always so confident and self-assured, was stuttering and fumbling over his words. his laugh also sounded a little more nervous than usual.

“yn,” he began, his voice soft. “i was thinking… would you uh like to go on a date with me? and not the ones where i um watch you brew coffee for hours and then walk you home. i mean, like, an actual date…”

one where we’re no longer strangers. if you um get what i mean.”

your heart fluttered, a smile spreading across your face at his confession. “i’d love that, jaehyun,” you replied, and the laugh he let out in relief made you giggle in return.

he spent the next ten minutes animatedly planning out the date, his excitement was so infectious that you found yourself falling even harder for him.

when the evening of the date arrived, jaehyun was a nervous wreck. despite jungwoo’s relentless teasing, he continued to fuss over every little detail of his outfit, muttering to himself about making a good impression.

but when he arrived at your door to pick you up, his breath caught, his heart racing faster than ever before. you looked stunning, your shy smile only causing him to blush harder. “you’re… woah,” he stammered, earning a soft laugh from you.

the date was perfect. dinner at a cozy restaurant was filled with laughter and effortless conversation. afterward, jaehyun took you to the local arcade, where you both let loose, laughing so hard your stomach hurt. he even let you beat him at basketball, though the grin on his face made it clear that he didn’t mind in the slightest.

the night ended with a quiet walk under the stars, your hands brushing against each other’s until he finally mustered the courage to lace his fingers with yours. the warmth of his touch sent a pleasant shiver up your spine, and the comfortable silence between you felt more meaningful than words.

when you reached your doorstep, jaehyun hesitated, shuffling his feet slightly as he stood there, shoulders squared but eyes flickering nervously between you and the ground.

the date had been perfect for jaehyun. from the laughter you two shared over dinner, to the way your eyes sparkled as you trounced him at every arcade game, each moment felt like something out of a daydream.

but a storm of doubts swirled in his mind: was he moving too fast? did you even feel comfortable with him? were you genuinely having fun—or had you just been too polite to say otherwise? did you think the date was perfect, too—or, oh god, did you hate it? worse—did you hate him?

“jaehyun,” you said softly, cutting through his overthinking spiral.

he blinked, his lips parting as if to speak, but the words caught in his throat.

you smiled at his hesitation, a flicker of nervousness crossing your own features but deciding to take the leap for both of you. “kiss me.”

his breath hitched at your words. “s-sorry?” his voice just shy of a squeak. “could you, uh, repeat that? i think i might’ve misheard—”

“i said,” you stepped closer, tilting your head up slightly to meet his gaze, “kiss me, jaehyun.”

for a moment, he just stood there, completely frozen, his eyes blowing comically wide. why did this scene feel so familiar? you giggled at his reaction, the soft sound like a melody against the still night air. but your laughter died in your throat when jaehyun surprised you by cupping your face gently.

with a soft brush of his thumb, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes searching yours. “may i? really?” he whispered, his voice low and slightly trembling.

you smiled, leaning into his touch,

“don’t be a stranger, pretty.”

authors note: i don't necessarily believe in love at first sight but if its jaehyun, ill believe in anything. please enjoy… >0<

[amirawrah]

⭐︎Tastes like home

with JUDE BELLINGHAM⭐︎

synopsis: When homesickness hits hard in Madrid, Jude surprises his Cameroonian wife by recreating her favorite childhood snack—beef pies—despite being a terrible cook.proving love really is the best recipe

Madrid’s sunset had never felt so quiet.

The city buzzed outside, as always—cars humming, children laughing down the block, the scent of warm bread wafting from the bakery near the corner. But inside Jude’s house—your house—it was still. Too still.

You sat curled on the couch, oversized hoodie swallowing you whole, the television playing some mindless show you weren’t really watching. You didn’t even realize tears had slipped down your cheek until the warmth reached the corner of your lips. You wiped them away quickly.

You missed home.

Not the place, necessarily—Cameroon was far, yes, but you’d grown used to the distance. You missed the people. Your family. The way they loved you. The sound of your auntie's voice when she got excited, the way your brothers bickered over the last beef pie during Sunday lunch. You missed the smell of the kitchen back home, the chaos, the laughter that lived in the walls.

Today, Madrid just felt… too quiet.

Jude hadn’t said much when he left for training that morning. He’d noticed something was off—you weren’t your usual bubbly self, and you’d barely touched your breakfast. He kissed your forehead and whispered, “I love you. I’ll be back soon,” before slipping out the door with a lingering glance.

You figured he’d come back tired and sweaty, probably collapse on the couch beside you and ask for cuddles. You weren’t expecting… this.

A loud clang came from the kitchen. Followed by a curse. And then another. “Bloody hell—ow!”

You blinked, sat up. “Jude?”

No answer. Just the sound of pans shuffling and a suspicious hiss from something on the stove.

You got up cautiously and padded into the kitchen.

The sight made you pause.

Flour everywhere. A cutting board covered in something that vaguely resembled dough. Jude, shirtless (because of course he was), standing at the stove with a confused look, spatula in hand, and an apron tied lopsided around his waist.

Your eyes dropped to the tray by the oven. There, lined up like little misfit soldiers, were oddly shaped pastries. Misshapen, a bit too brown in places, but definitely filled—with something.

“Wait… are those—?”

He turned quickly, startled. “Babe! No, wait! Don’t come in yet—”

You couldn’t help it. You laughed. A wet, shaky, surprised laugh.

“Jude. What are you doing?”

He scratched the back of his neck, sheepish. “Trying to make those beef pies you love so much.”

Your breath caught.

“I know they’re your favorite,” he continued, eyes lowering. “You’ve been quiet lately. I figured… maybe it’s a homesick day. And I know I can’t fly your whole family over or cook like your mum does but…” He shrugged. “I watched a YouTube video. Burned the first two trays. That one might actually be edible though.”

You walked over, stunned into silence.

“They’re… not pretty,” he admitted, “but they smell kinda good, right?”

You looked up at him, tears welling again, but this time for a whole different reason.

“They smell like home,” you whispered.

Jude’s face softened. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He brought one of the pastries to you, still warm, steam curling from the edges. You took a bite—and okay, it wasn’t perfect. A little too much onion. But the gesture? The effort? It tasted like love.

You swallowed, heart so full you thought it might burst. “You did this for me?”

Jude stepped closer, arms wrapping around your waist. “Course I did. I’d burn ten more trays if it made you smile like that.”

You rested your forehead against his chest. “I love you.”

He kissed the top of your head. “I love you more.”

And just like that, Madrid didn’t feel so quiet anymore.

You stood there, wrapped in his arms, letting yourself melt into him. He was warm, a little sweaty, still covered in flour, but it didn’t matter. It felt like safety. Like love.

“Come on,” Jude murmured. “Let’s sit. I wanna see if I actually made something edible or if I’ve just risked poisoning the love of my life.”

You laughed, letting him guide you to the couch. He had already set it up: a cozy blanket thrown over the cushions, your favorite throw pillows in place, and two plates on the coffee table—one with the remaining beef pies, and the other with pineapple slices and dark chocolate (your comfort snack, and he knew that).

“You’re seriously trying to win Best Husband award tonight,” you teased, curling beside him.

He smiled, one arm draped around your shoulders. “I’m campaigning hard.”

You picked up another pie, letting the warmth of it settle between your palms. Jude watched you closely, like his entire existence depended on your reaction.

You took a bite.

It was better this time. Still a little lopsided, but the flavors were there—the meat, the onions, the soft potato… even the spice was right. You raised your brows. “Okay, Mr. Bellingham. This one might’ve hit.”

He grinned wide, proud and boyish. “Yeah?! Proper?”

“Proper,” you nodded, bumping your shoulder into his. “You still cannot roll dough to save your life, but the filling? Solid eight.”

“Eight?! Harsh. I deserve at least an eight point five,” he pouted.

You laughed again, wiping a bit of flour from his cheek. “Fine. Eight point six. But that’s only because you’re cute.”

“You know what,” he said, standing up suddenly, “I have one more surprise.”

Your brow lifted. “Another one?”

“Just… stay here.”

He disappeared down the hallway, and you waited, confused and curious. A few seconds later, he returned holding his iPad—and you immediately heard the sound of voices.

Familiar voices.

He turned the screen toward you and your breath caught.

It was your family. Your family—on a video call. Your mum, your brothers, your cousin, all smiling and waving at once. “Ah! There she is! My baby girl!” your mum exclaimed in French-accented English. “You see, Jude told us you were having a bad day!”

You covered your mouth, tears springing back into your eyes as your brothers shouted over each other, teasing you and calling you “softie” and “crybaby.”

Jude wrapped his arms around your shoulder again, whispering in your ear, “Asked them to be free around this time. I figured you’d need them.”

You looked up at him, eyes wide and wet. “How did you even—?”

“I asked your mum two days ago,” he said with a grin. “She grilled me. Told me I better not waste ingredients if I didn’t know what I was doing.”

You laughed, full-on, heart-deep, and kissed his cheek.

Jude sat back beside you while you chatted with your family, smiling every time someone said something ridiculous or someone roasted his cooking attempt.

And as you leaned into him, wrapped up in laughter, surrounded by love—both near and far—you realized something.

Home wasn’t just Cameroon. It was wherever Jude was. Flour-covered apron, bad dough, sweet heart and all.

The call ended nearly an hour later, your cheeks sore from smiling and laughing too much. Your phone buzzed with messages from your cousin and mum, all full of heart emojis and “Tell Jude I love him!!” texts.

Jude stretched beside you, letting out a dramatic sigh. “That call was long.”

“Oh please,” you teased, curling into him. “You loved every second of it. Admit it.”

He smirked, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I did. Your family’s chaotic. It’s fun. I love them.”

You both sat there a moment, warm and full, the scent of beef pies still lingering faintly in the kitchen.

Then Jude stood up, offering you his hand. “Come with me.”

You gave him a curious look but placed your hand in his anyway. He led you through the quiet house and out onto the balcony, where the air was crisp and cool. The Madrid skyline sparkled in the distance, soft city lights flickering like stars.

He pulled a blanket around both of you, then wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, chin resting on your shoulder.

“This view’s mad,” he said quietly.

You hummed in agreement. “It is.”

But you weren’t looking at the skyline. You were looking at his hands around your waist. The gentle rise and fall of his chest behind you. The peace in the silence between you both.

After a beat, you whispered, “You didn’t have to do any of this, you know.”

“I did,” he replied simply.

“Why?”

He turned you around slowly to face him. His eyes searched yours, sincere and warm in the moonlight. “Because when you hurt, I hurt. And if I can do something—anything—to make you feel even a little better, I’m doing it.”

Your heart fluttered.

“Besides,” he added with a grin, “I’m trying to secure Husband of the Year before December.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’ve already won. Don’t push your luck.”

He dipped his head, nose brushing against yours. “Then kiss me before I burn something else.”

And so, under the stars of Madrid, wrapped in a blanket that smelled like him and a love that felt like home, you kissed your husband—grateful, soft, and full.

And for the first time in days, your heart didn’t ache for Cameroon. Because somehow, Jude had brought it to you.

[bettystonewell]

TO YOU I BELONG: CHAPTER 12

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Summary: Dean isn't looking for a mate, and the last place he expects to meet his soulmate is while on a case. Fate ain't real. He still has free will, and saving you is just another part of the job. Except, monsters aren't the only things you need saving from... 18+ only MDNI

Chapter Word Count: 6.4k words

Chapter Warnings: fluff, angst, reader is still anxious, guilt, mentions of past miscarriage, Dean is one proud papa to be, alpha Dean taking care of his omega

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

There was something about leaving the Pack Planning clinic with smiling faces that drew a kind of attention Dean had never experienced before.

The people you passed as you made your way through the hospital were friendlier than those he ran into on the daily. With returning smiles and pleasant demeanours all round. He was wary at first and it did little to stop him from pulling faces back at them while channelling his inner David Yaeger. 

Of course, he was better looking, and had better teeth, thanks to Garth.

Yup. Dean was nothing like his favourite slasher. He still considered himself an eight, maybe a nine now that he was gonna be a father. That college chick with her dad-bod analogy suddenly spoke to him, and he ran his tongue from one canine to the other when he saw his reflection in the domed mirror you passed by in radiology. 

He was rocking it - and bonus - there were no monsters to be seen. Only him, his bod, and plenty of eyes following you in particular.

Hell. You were rocking it, too, in that dress. Especially now that your underwear was back on. Yes, he knew how off that sounded, but he was more concerned with being worried.

Should he have been worried? Were these strangers all scenting the pup, or was there another creature that might sense your hopes for the future and want to feed off them? 

He had no freaking clue. It was weird though, and well...yeah, okay, it was kinda nice. At least no one looked at him like he smelled bad anymore. Though he did half expect to see a guy wearing a candy stripe suit holding a cane and singing good morning to the pigeons hanging around the rafters of the parking lot.

Man, he was happy to take you and Baby far from there. That tingling feeling up his spine from leaving her as long as he had could get wrecked.

He was happier still to pull up a seat in the diner down the road as planned, where he could hide away from all the happiness and normal he just couldn’t for the life of him get used to. 

The joint was quiet for somewhere boasting to have the state’s best of anything, which he loved. A row of booths along the front window had two outta six occupied, and most four-tops were empty. 

It was perfect, even when you sat in a free booth.

He’d have preferred a table in the back to shy even further away from the world, but he got it. The bouncy benches of leather and foam looked way more comfortable than the basket weave thing the chairs had going on. 

But while the seats you sat in were a prime choice for his ass, the staff and other patrons were just as friendly as those outside, and he soon became a sympathiser for goldfish and their feelings real quick. 

Damn windows. So much for perfection. It was unbecoming. Unnerving even, and it left a weird taste in his mouth. 

Though, the diner and its inhabitants weren’t the problem here.

It wasn’t the mouthful of key lime pie he’d just woofed, nor was it the strawberry shake he’d used to wash down the delicious pastry and cream with either. No. No, no. It was from your question in answer to his, of all things that had him dropping his fork with a loud clatter on his plate and him staring at you with wide eyes next. 

What did you mean, what would he do if Baby got totalled? “What the hell kind of question is that?” 

He said it with such animosity, it had you biting your cheek as you stared back at him from your side of the booth, all guilt teed with nerves. It caused a few other pairs of eyes to find their way back to him, too, and worse, linger. People weren’t so friendly towards him now that he’d clearly upset you, and he missed the niceties.

The waitress who’d sold him on the pie, and had even given him a larger slice, shot daggers at him. Her coworker, working behind the counter, mid-pour, pouring coffee for the customer she was serving, served him a look that made him feel like he was the Scum of the Earth.

Wow. How things changed. He wasn’t sure he liked it. Could he go back to the happy smiles, please? Because this was worse than being the mud on his boot, and worse still, was the older omega at the table behind you. 

She’d stopped her conversation with her equally ageing mate to glare at him as well. Only hers felt more precarious and made him shudder. She could’ve thrown ice down his shirt and it’d be no different.

He just wanted to find out what’d been bothering you. You know - be a good mate and follow through on what he’d promised back in the exam room? He’d done the first half with the diner, so at least he was trying. But you’d hit him with such a low blow, he wasn’t the bad guy here. You were.

With your battering lashes, you’d moved on from your cheek and were now chowing down on your plump lower lip. About to break the skin if he didn’t do something, because then there’d really be blood. 

You might’ve had him wrapped around his finger, but it still was a dick move on your part. How could you suggest he let Baby get that mangled? 

He cringed at the thought. Seeing her roof caved in and her windows smashed all over again had him squirming over the faux leather cushioning and rapping his fingers on the tabletop. Anything to mimic the beating in his chest. He needed to drown it out because you’d about gone and given him a heart attack.

“I wouldn’t replace her, if that’s what you’re asking?” he said. 

Only it was. He knew it in one glance. 

Like a brick wall, easy to read and talk to, but not so able to give the same back, you slouched further into your side of the booth and dropped your head, shying away from his unsettled gaze before the first tear fell down your cheek. 

How the hell did you do that? You’d threatened Baby, and you got to cry? 

What about him? 

Not to mention this was supposed to be a celebration. You’d heard the pup’s heartbeat an hour ago, and according to Doctor Cameron, both you and he were healthy. As far as Dean was aware, that’s what you wanted, but everything was screaming the opposite and he was…panicking.

This wasn’t him. He was cool as a cucumber, and ready for anything. Just not omegas who weren’t as calm and collected as he was.

“Okay. You know what? Shove on over,” he said on deaf ears. He waved his hand anyway and shuffled himself to the edge of the cushion, standing so quickly he caught his thighs on the underside of the wood and the eyes of that damn old broad. 

She was still sitting behind you. Still listening in and not afraid to make it obvious.

He gave her a pursed smile before scurrying over to slip in next to you. His peripheral scanning the room for the whereabouts of the others, and he shuddered. Yup. He was the scum for making his pregnant mate cry. Got it. Message received. Thanks ladies.

He draped his arm over your shoulders and pulled you close, swiping away what moisture he could from your cheeks. It would be a losing battle if he didn’t sort this out, and soon. 

“What’s so bad that you’re threatening my car instead of telling me what’s wrong, huh?” he said. He had to bob his head down on an angle to capture your stare, hating the sight he found and the shaky breath you used to calm yourself. 

“I was going for something you might understand,” you said, keeping your distance from his torso with your spine on a lean. Thank god there was a window there to help keep you boxed in. “Wasn’t quite the answer I wanted, though.”

“You tryna compare Baby to something?” he asked, tightening his grip. Why on Earth did you have to choose her for whatever sick example this was?

“Yeah,” you said, as if things were obvious. “The pup.” Your brows furrowed even more than they were already, and Dean blinked. 

What? Okay, okay. That’s all that had been on both your minds since finding out. Didn’t mean he was expecting it. 

You’d just asked what he’d do if Baby ever got wrecked. How that could even happen without any of you getting injured was beyond him, but you’d told him that wasn’t the important part.

“Say she accidentally got picked up by a wrecker and thrown in one of those crusher things,” you’d said, syphoning your own, much prettier version of Hachetman, if pretty could be associated with something so foul.

The death of a car was one thing, but the pup? His pup. What kind of sick mother…oh.

Your whole torso shook under the weight of his arm as you pushed more air out of your lungs. “It’s just…every time I find something to be excited about, I feel guilty,” you said quietly. Almost in shock at your own words.

The cushion squeaked under you and sunk under him as you reached for your shake. It was the most you’d moved since he’d squished in next to you. Having barely made room for him in the first place, and though there wasn’t anything left in your cup, you still sucked on the air. 

You were stealing his moves. Classic Dean. If you were drinking, you weren’t talking.

His head nodded, only at a snail’s pace, and he swallowed real hard. Unlike you, he at least had something in his mouth. “The one you lost?” he probed, able to call Yahtzee on your change in breathing alone.

“I know it’s stupid ‘cause they weren’t even viable, but I can’t stop thinking what if, y’know?” You brought your hand down to rest on your stomach and he did the same, covering your warm skin with his. 

He was fascinated. Still as captivated as ever that the life growing inside of you was a part of him, too. But while he gave you a comforting smile, and though you smiled back, it twisted into a frown. 

“About what, sweetheart?” He’d seen that look on you too many times to count since claiming you. Didn’t suit a happily mated omega, and it wasn’t the one he’d claimed.

“I was in denial this morning over being sick. It just felt too soon. But then Sam’s smoothie glooped at me and…well I…” Your head thumped back against his arm, still on the top of the bench, staring at the ceiling with fresh tears rolling down your cheeks. “They didn’t even have a heartbeat. I dunno why I—”

“Hey. No.” He twisted in the seat, took the same arm out from under you and come-hithered his hands. He was pushing you into his chest in no time and shielding you from all the eyes that had found their way back on him. He couldn’t care less now. 

You weren’t stupid for grieving, and he wasn’t letting you think it. “Don’t do that to yourself, huh? Our little guy’s been real to me since I scented him, and he’s not a replacement. He’s their brother.”

There might’ve been some self preservation in there, but what did you expect? His priorities were with you and the pup under his fingertips. It was hard to tack on any relation to Dick and his jaw clenched because of it and his unusual lack of emotional restraint.

His jacket muffled your voice, but he still caught the curious and meek, “Brother?” 

He chuckled. That boyish one, sounding more lecherous than was appropriate in the moment. His selfish side could work with the reprieve, and he finally took a chance around the room. 

Crisis averted. For now, the other women were minding theirs, and he was no longer under scrutiny, except yours. But he could win you over. 

He may have misunderstood something after all. Not that he still believed the ring Doctor Cameron had pointed out to you on the ultrasound was his actual sac. 

That was stupid - it was way too big compared to the rest of him. But when Dean heard the word, that good old niggle in his gut that made him both fear and marvel at his future also told him they were a boy. 

“I’ve had this feeling. Ever since I saw his ticker,” he said on a lean as he searched for the one pair of eyes he wanted to see. 

They were still glistening with tears. Your cheeks flush and almost the same colour as your trembling lips.

His thumb swiped through both sides, grateful that you weren’t hiding behind milkshakes or the wet patch of his jacket pocket anymore. 

He let go of you and reached for his phone he’d left in place of himself at his original seat and punched in the password to reveal the video he’d taken of your ultrasound already up on the screen. Paused, yes, but open from watching it more than once.

The flicker that had captivated Dean’s heart came to life, and his mouth grew wider. “See that?” He pointed to a dot next to the jelly bean shape the doc had called a pole. “That’s my boy.” And damn, was he prouder than ever? Sure he didn’t look like much, but you guys had made that. There it was, right there.

“That’s just my uterus.” You sighed, and Dean’s bubble burst. 

Those weren’t the words of a momma to be. You were supposed to argue with him. Tell him they might be a girl or remind him the doctors can’t tell you yet.

Not this.

He puckered his lips, rubbing them together. 

Of course, he knew he couldn’t just slap a bandaid on you and whisper a ‘there there.’ Things didn’t work like that. He’d already tried, and the adhesive was wearing off. 

No. There was no straightforward solution to this, just as you still needed to sort out your grievances with Dick and your mom. But he could give you some kind of hope. 

As a hunter, he had the world at his fingertips for superstitions, and his mom’s (not so wise) words about angels.

“When I claimed ya, did you get a glimpse of heaven, too?” he whispered, aware the other booths still had ears. 

They may not have been looking at you, but the old broad’s scent had piqued when he’d played the video.

You sniffled. A blink caused a stray tear to roll down your face. “It’s…real?”

“Yeah, and I got no doubt they’re up there, looking out for him already.”

It didn’t matter that they’d had no physical body to move around in. There had to be a soul of some form…maybe. He wasn’t about to get into the dilemma of what made up one. Not when you were pained enough to cling to any load of crap thrown at you. Funny how that worked, even for you.

Your face was sure lighter, and he cupped it, brushing his thumb over your lip this time. “They’re probably looking out for their mom, too. Hating that you’re sad.”

“But I wanted them here,” you said with a blank stare and a split second of anger he caught in your scent before the guilt you’d been talking about overtook it. 

And fuck. Ain’t nobody was going to see him break down. His eyes sure found something in them just as quick as your outburst had come and gone, though. 

Your forehead hit his sternum, but he was grappling your arms and pulling you with him and out of the booth before you could settle.

He wanted you home. He wanted you there now, where he could hide you away from all these damn people. He’d had enough of today and it wasn’t even lunch yet.

Dean reached into his back pocket and threw a hefty tip down along with the other bills on the table, busting you out and into Baby’s cab on the street as soon as he had. 

She was comfort, she was home, she was undamaged, but his priorities lay with you and the pup, and his fingers glided over yours instead of the leather-bound wheel that attracted them as he sat down. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene.” 

The seat creaked underneath you as you fell into his chest, and he was shifting his hands again to wrap himself around you the best way he could without the steering column digging into his side.

“‘S good thing I made a bigger one then.” He huffed, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. “Truth is. I dunno where your pup is. I thought that stuff about heaven would help ya, but I guess I was wrong.”

“I was just being selfish,” you said in a whisper, pulling back to look at him in search of reassurance. Whether you believed it, he couldn’t tell, but the sight of your eyes full to the brim with tears cut him deep.

“It’s not selfish to want a healthy kid. I was praying before we saw him on the screen,” he admitted.

“You were?” 

“Yeah,” he said, hesitating to say anymore than that. You didn’t need him mentioning he’d prayed. He’d already fucked up by comparing his pup with Dick’s. He may as well have let what little restraint he had left tell you he was happy for your loss because it had brought you to him... 

Yeah. Absolutely not. Even if it was true in a roundabout, sick and twisted way. 

His knuckles came up to brush over your cheekbone and his elbow to rest over the backrest. He couldn’t leave things as they were, either. 

“There’s, ah, not much I can say that doesn’t make me out to be a huge asshole. Though you might deserve some of it after you threatened my car…” Obviously it was a joke, but he regretted it the second it left his mouth, even when your lip twitched up.

“I’m sorry.” He huffed and shook his head, smoothing his hand over the black leather and the stitching of her dimples. You deserved nothing of the sort. “And I’m really sorry you lost your first. I know it wasn’t easy, and I know it makes things harder for you now.” 

“It was a long time ago,” you whispered, eyes flicking down below Baby’s dash and away from him when his face screwed up.

You made it sound like it belonged in a history book, but two years was nothing.

“Hey.” His palm stretched his fingers over your cheek. “It’s been fresh in your mind since I claimed you,” he tried, nudging your face to bring you back to him. 

You were defiant at first, until you spoke up, louder than expected. Not angry, even in your gaze, but bewildered, hurt. Still full of despair. “Then how come you’re not freaking out all the time? You went to hell, and purgatory, and…heaven?” 

“Yeah. But I knew all that stuff was happening when it happened.”

Okay, purgatory wasn’t expected when he’d ganked Dick’s namesake, and heaven was thanks to Zachariah being a douche. But he’d taken the deal that sent him to hell. After it, the other two were like taking a walk in the park.

“It took my dumbass questions ‘bout your past for you to realise Dick was a dick.” 

“They weren’t dumb.”

“Just like you’re not stupid for grieving,” he said with a wag of his brows that softened as soon as your mouth widened into a grin large enough for him to accept.

He needed a solution besides his arms wrapping ‘round you tight again. As much as he loved doing it, there were a couple more things you needed to do before returning to the bunker, and it wasn’t possible with you connected as you were.

He dropped his head down on a lean and hit his numbskull against yours.

“You can be excited and sad, y’know?” he said in the tone of a teacher (or parent), nurturing a child on the finesse of feelings and that it was okay to have them.

You huffed, and he captured it along with your lips and the remnants of chocolate milk, just as fitting, in a forceful kiss.

”Go as crazy as you like,” he then continued. “You’ve got a free pass for the next eight months.”

Though he soon regretted those words.

Telling you what he had was the same as flicking a switch somewhere in you, and sending your emotions into overdrive.

He wasn’t a douche like Dick for saying so, either. It was a fact, and if you looked at things from his perspective, you’d understand. 

You were touchier than normal, and yes, you had your reasons. Again, he wasn’t a douche. But simple decisions suddenly became more of a chore. Like, did you want your burrito with mild salsa or the hottest of the hot? Toasted or fresh? Rice or none? Diet soda, or another milkshake?

Food choices were important, but spicy, crispy, and extra carbs were an obvious choice the first time.

Seeing you examine the back of every prenatal vitamin jar in not one, but two pharmacies and a supermarket was more understandable. The difference between folate and folic acid as a name would have anyone wary. Dean had seen what harsh chemicals could do to people - making him not so sure of the labels himself.

However, more tears when he forgot to grab the ice cream you hadn’t asked for while paying for gas, and the spike of jealousy he sensed when you saw an omega, heavily pregnant, was just...it was weird, right? 

He was gonna remember that last one if you ever complained to him you looked like a whale later on down the line.

Lisa’s sister Jenny should have asked no one other than her mate that question.

But with you, he had leeway. He’d tell it to you straight… Unless it came to the gender of his pup, that is.

You were soon pulling him into line on that.

That night, after returning with the right vitamins, stuff for a healthy dinner Dean wouldn’t win friends with, and two stuffed bears (non living and carry size), one for each of your pups, you congregated in the bunkers kitchen. 

“That’s his sac,” Dean said as he leaned over his phone, now in Sam’s hands. They stood around the large middle island, as you did. Only on the opposite side, and well away from where you were chopping a cucumber with a rather sharp knife.

“They can tell it’s a boy from this?” Sam asked. Though his eyes flicked to you as he did.

“No. I just have a feeling. Reckon he’s an alpha.” Dean’s tone was boastful, even as his gaze flicked to you, too. His reflexes were as awesome as ever, but after today he was still mindful of the case in Ohio, and your interest in it. He wanted to keep all his bits intact if he could help it. 

You stopped what you were doing and rested your wrist on the edge of the wooden chopping board. Knife still in hand as you asked, “And when did you present, Alpha?” to the room.

The sarcasm dripped off the false sweetness you grit through your teeth.

He had to be careful here, and not on account of your scent rapidly changing.

No doubt you’d seen his first rut when he claimed you and had an inkling as to how old he was when it had occurred, just as he’d seen bits of your first heat. But he had a point to make. So, he tried his luck, only boosting his ego a little, and said, “Fifteen,” because that seemed plausible. 

At least it was until Sam opened his big mouth and scoffed as he handed him his phone back. 

“Alright, seventeen.” Dean poked his tongue through an audacious grin. “But Dad knew I was one. Just like he did with you, and I know our pup is gonna be one, too.”

You scowled. “Your father was an alpha. Your grandfather was an alpha. And so was mine. Of course, our son will be one, too,” you said.

And of course, all Dean heard was your use of the word son. There was the argument he’d needed to see back at the diner. A fierce momma bear, even if the douchebag you were defending your pup from was him.

He was fit to burst and practically bounced on his heels because of it. “So you’re agreeing he’s a boy?” 

Your “No” was very short, and your wrist, very forced as you pushed the sharp blade into the wooden board below, causing the pot lids on the shelf above to clatter and the hanging pots below them to sway.

He chuckled and risked sauntering ‘round the mass of stainless steel to wrap his arms around you, much like the damage control he’d pulled at the diner earlier. 

He was getting good at this. Especially without a pack of omegas staring him down. (Sammy didn’t count.)

His arms wrapped round you and took hold of your chopping hand to still it. He was less likely to be cut this way. “So you think they’re a girl?” he asked.

Your scent spiked, announcing the end of your tether, but your smile said otherwise. Dean didn’t miss the way your cheek filled out against his when he nuzzled against you.

“I dunno. I just want them to stay healthy.”

“I do, too,” he said in earnest. But then that glint in his eye he usually reserved for the finer things, like you or his grenade launcher, came out to play as he thought of a way to really test your testiness. “You wanna make a bet?”

Your knife hand dropped again. “I’m not betting on the sex of our pup!”

You knew him too well. Though it was kinda obvious with the conversation you’d been having.

“Sammy?” He then tried, and your free hand swiped at his shoulder. 

Had it been long enough, you would’ve had a go at Sam, too, but he held both of his up in surrender, and shook his head. “Uh-uh. I’m not getting involved in that.”

‘Later?’ Dean mouthed, screwing his face up when he saw yours.

“I can see that, y’know?” Your swipe wasn’t a swipe at all this time. There was a thud from the back of your hand colliding with him, and he chuckled again. 

“I ain’t hiding it,” he said and brought his lips down on his claim, and both hands up your arms. The soft, velvety skin there, and that sweet, sweet apple delighted his nose. The heave of your chest, his eyes.

It really had been a long day and all that anger towards him, even playful, had to be making you tired. If anything, he could make up for being an ass. “Why don’t you go sit down? Lemme finish this.”

His fingers had taken charge of the knife again before you could even answer, giving you no choice, but to say yes.

You ran your hand through his scruff and hummed happily. “I thought you didn’t win friends with salad?”

You knew it. He did not, and he pulled his best bitchface. One to rival Sammy’s, who had pulled one to match.

“I don’t. But the doc said my little man will.” He winked and bumped you with his hips.

“Still not a little man.” You sighed, but leaned back enough to kiss him, anyway, with lips as plump as ever through your pout.

Your smile against his gave him the warm fuzzies, and he reached between you to squeeze your ass before sending you on your way.

Sam, not far behind. Only he left the room and didn’t return until much later when dinner was ready.

Dean gave the kitchen sink another once over with the detergent and the sponge before filling it up. You may have puked on him earlier, but he wasn’t risking it. Barf was still barf, even if his son caused it. And if it had landed somewhere on the deeper depths of the porcelain surface, well, he couldn’t wash the things you ate off of in there now, could he?

Years of motel rooms and take out as always fueled his need for cleanliness. Keeping everything in order, John Winchester style.

Dean could never half-ass any job, even if his dear old dad wasn’t watching. There would always be a need to please.

He sprayed away the excess suds and covered the drain with the rubber plug, before twisting the faucet harder, and the temperature hot enough to singe his skin. Along with more dish soap, that’d get rid of any remaining stomach gunk.

He gave the bottle an extra tight squeeze. And while the fart sound satisfied his ears, the stuff reeked of Sam and it screwed his nose up. Though his brother’s heavy footsteps trailing more of his funk thunked over the tiles towards him.

A mumbled “hey,” added an extra touch to the Chewie ambiance he had going on.

Okay. So Dean was an ass, knew it already, but in this instance, it was his privilege as an older brother. Came with the territory, and a right to let off some steam.

Sammy stepped up next to him and crooked his back, scooping up the dish towel hanging below the bench. Neither alpha saying anything more. 

There were noises a plenty though. Dean would grab the edge of a plate, scrape it on the side of others and dunk it with a splosh, into the fresh foam. Then Sam, now leaning against the countertop, would dry. The soft scrape of fingers gliding the coarser towel over ceramic, not so music to one’s ears. It was more like cotton balls and the freakish squeak they made.

The picture had Dean chuffed, though. Two brothers, both fierce hunters, knife scarred and bullet holed, at a kitchen sink. Getting their domestic duties on by mopping and drying serving and silverware. If demons and angels could see them now.

All that was missing was a pair of rubber gloves and an apron.

The latter was in the wash. The first had disappeared since Mrs Butters had left and no one had bothered to replace them. 

The old wood nymph would’ve come in handy in the near future. It was a shame she’d gone rogue. A magic dishwasher could handle all the little plastic plates and bowls he expected to come when your pup came into the world.

Some, full of SpaghettiOs, others Cap’n Crunch. A bit of Mac ‘n’ cheese and maybe even his own version of Winchester’s surprise.

After he graduated from your milk, and any puréed crap, of course. Dean fondly remembered chowing down on an apple and banana concoction while babysitting the shifter’s kid.

He fondly remembered sucking your tit into his mouth, too, and thoughts of what that could taste like overtook the rest.

Milk? Sour? Sweet?

“What?” Sam asked when a contented hum escaped his lips.

He cocked the brow closest to the younger alpha and flipped it his way, while keeping the potential new kink to himself. “Remember Bobby-John?”

“Yeah. Vaguely.”

“Vaguely?” Dean finished swirling the dish brush over the fourth plate and thrust it into his brother’s hands, smirking. That was for forgetting the kid, and for making him freak out when he’d seen his gigantor form leering over you at this very sink that morning. He may’ve been helping you. Didn’t mean he had to get so damn close. 

“I had no soul. My head was—”

“Knotting weird hippies.” 

Sam scoffed, standing there for a second with a stupid grin on his face until he shook it and, no wait, it remained. 

“You know, I still can’t believe you’re gonna be a dad?” he said, and Dean thrusted the next plate into him even harder with a smirk turned grin of his own. 

That was for when he was almost anal probed, and for the latest insult. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s really cool, y’know? Like a light at the end of the tunnel or something.”

Of course Dean knew. He didn’t need convincing that his pup was awesome. He was one lucky sonovabitch. But that tunnel Sam spoke of was looking more like a cave with jagged edges and darkness smack bang in the middle at present. So when the hell did the light come into play ‘cause he was fucking terrified. 

A new life… Did he quit hunting now? Did he need to line your pockets with salt every damn day? Could he even leave the bunker or you alone, and if he did, what was he doing then?

He hadn’t taken a case in weeks, and all of a sudden cabin fever hit him big time, but he couldn’t do anything about it now.

He had a kid on the way.

He was also a grunt who’d tried the apple pie thing, and he and it did not match. In fact, Sammy, without his freaking soul, had been the force behind that break-up.

He looked at Dean in concern, but Dean was fucking concerned himself.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah.” Dean nodded to convince himself, and dipped his hand into the murky fathoms of the sink below to pull the plug. He needed a drink. “Though I might need you to lend me a torch,” is what he said.

He snatched the dish towel from Sam, who chuckled at first until he realised he had his serious face on. The one that made him look constipated by all the shit he kept bottled inside.

“Come on, man,” Sam said. “You helped raise me, and I turned out fine. How’s this any different?”

Turning out fine was up for debate, and… Yeah. Nope. 

Dean couldn’t even argue with that, as much as it went against his nature to contradict almost anything that was ever nicely said about him. 

He had turned out great, but that wasn’t the issue. This time Dean was fully responsible for you and the pup, and there was no one else to step up if he fucked up. Besides Sam himself. 

“How’re things going with Eileen?” he asked.

“We’re talking about you.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been talking ‘bout my feelings all day, so give your old man a break.” He smirked.

Technically, it’d been about yours, but he didn’t need to know that. Dean needed a break from spotlights and needing torches. Most importantly, he needed a Plan B. A larger pack to help with stuff when he screwed up. 

“I dunno,” Sam said, still leaning on the bench. He shuffled his feet and leant forward, bracing himself on the last piece of dry ceramic he’d yet to let go of, pushing it into his knee. 

“You think you might have a second chance?” Dean pried. He was thinking about it. He had to be, and Chuck, Dean was turning into you. Sammy was his alpha, who got his knot stuck in the secretary.

“We’re, ah, texting…a lot.” He cleared his throat. “But it’s nothing like you guys. Or me and Jess. There’s no…soul marks.”

Dean considered giving Sam a similar talk to what he’d given you. That it was okay to have differing feelings. That Jess would always be special, never forgotten, and never replaced. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He’d had enough of grieving. He’d had enough of being forced to think about the what if’s.

You were healthy…for now.

And the pup had a heartbeat. Not just now. They did. He did, and Dean ran his teeth over his bottom lip and looked up at the ceiling to compose himself. His hand ran over the shape of his phone buried in his pocket, where the video of his son was only a few clicks away.

“But they’re, ah, rare,” he finally said.

“Rare enough for you and me to have both found a match.”

Sam caught Dean’s attention on that, and he held it for longer than was necessary between them.

This kind of stuff just wasn’t for guys like them, and yet, Sammy had found Jess, and Dean had found you, and that pushed the ‘whole life into perspective’ further home for him.

He sniffed up the dust that had been irritating his eyes all day and fixed his sleeves still rolled from doing the dishes. Though who was he kidding? He’d been wearing them like that all day.

“You know, on the plus side, your kidneys are safe now,” he said. He’d had enough chick flick moments to last him the week.

Sam’s grin was wider than Dean’s. “What?”

He thumbed behind them in the direction of room 11, a glint in his eyes as he remembered what Doctor Cameron had told you. “True mates are compatible medically, too, so I’ve got myself an organ farm. Also said my little man is gonna be stronger ‘cause of it.”

“You think that’s why—”

“Yeah. I think so.” He wasn’t going there. Anything positive about yours and his match was a mark against what you’d lost. Besides, he’d told himself no more grieving, and he meant it. Your pup was strong, and waiting for his daddy’s heavy hand to rest over him.

“I’m gonna hit the hay. Gotta warm bed waitin’ for me,” Dean added, patting his brother on the shoulder with that same weight. “You should invite Eileen over…If you’re serious about her.”

No doubt being outnumbered three to one, you’d appreciate another omega around. 

“Yeah. Maybe I will,” Sam said. His lip twitched as Dean spun on his heels, heading straight out of the kitchen and into the hall.

When he reached the door, he opened it with a gentle touch, just in case you were already asleep. Elated to find you turning your head to look up at him with a smile, sitting against the headboard nursing the tea you’d brought with you earlier. You were a vision. As were the two stuffed bears beside you.

He was going to be an awesome dad, because he was already an awesome mate.  You on the other hand?

Well, that all depended on Baby, and whether she survived you in his life.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Little bit of foreshadowing in there that I'm quite proud of. What's going to happen to Baby?? Oh - and Dean's going back into rut next chapter! ❤️

Chapter 13: Derishionment - 16/05

“What would you do if Baby got totalled?” you’d asked him.

Well. He’d fucking flip his lid is what he’d do, but “Please, Baby, please,” he said in the moment. His eyes, wide shut in prayer as his elbows lifted him up off the dusty grass. 

To Dean’s horror, the transmission shifted, and the car moved again. Followed by the crunch of a tree and another shift that had him leaping up just in time to run - again. 

Why did this always happen to him? Why did it have to happen to Baby? Why did you have to go and…say all that crap you had about her getting totalled?

Yeah. You. This was all…

…your fault.

@globetrotter28 @ambiguous-avery @arcannaa @jollyhunter @zepskies

@reluctanthalfwayoptimism @supernotnatural2005 @jackles010378 @kaz-2y5-spn @applelovesposts

@jaydensluv @foxyjwls007 @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @waynes-multiverse

@kazchester-fanfiction @maddie0101 @ladykitana90 @luvr4miya @amyjam78

@stoneyggirl2 @winchesterwild78 @missywinchester15 @deansbbyx @kr804573

@lyarr24 @salemslostwitch @mostlymarvelgirl @ladysparkles78 @multiversefanfics

@31miw-inkpsycho @yoursrosie @Theantisoci-alone @roseamie13 @krazykelly

@my-stories-vault @amberlthomas @levine-23 @ultimatecin73 @district447

@hobby27 @aylacavebear @stellawritesstories @middleearthlife @yeehawgiddyup13

@redwinexsupernova @artemys-ackles @kimxwinchester @bejeweledinterludes @impala67rollingthroughtown

If you’d like to be added, you can add yourself HERE, or if you’d like to be removed, please let me know ☺️

[lilacartsmadsion]

Cookie Run AUs:

Dark Vanilla AU: Wattpad

An AU where instead of Pure Vanilla, The Ancients are lost after the Dark Flour War leaving only Pure Vanilla is the remaining Ancient. Having lost their rulers, Crispia falls into a dark place of despair, reliant yet hesitant to trust Pure Vanilla. This causes Pure Vanilla to turn bitter and rule with an iron fist to ensure the Dark Flour War never happens again…Also DE ends up taking longer to be free because 4 Ancients holding her back kinda did a toll on her.

Status: Ongoing.

Sixth Lost Ancient AU: Wattpad.

An AU where there was a Sixth Ancient and Gingerbrave ends up getting their Soul Jam. He in turn learns the secrets of its previous owner.

Status: Ongoing

‘Light’ of Truth AU: Wattpad

The story goes off as normal, except Pure Vanilla Doesn't have Amnesia, he ends up in the Dark Cacao Kingdom, and things take a turn...but is it really for the worse if one purges those of darkness? Aka PV accidentally gets corrupted after getting free from DE

Status: Hiatus (Debating whether to redo the AU or Cancel it)

Traitor Licorice AU: Wattpad

Licorice had enough of the CoD and decided to go Apeshit. Added an OC there just cause.

Status: Hiatus (Might rewrite it cause the writing is cringe as hell)

Death’s Darkest Soul: Wattpad

Inspired by ‘The Blizzard’s of Spring’s Wake’ on A03 an AU related to my ‘Ghosts of Our Pasts AU’ that basically has Cacao as a human sacrifice as a baby to the god of Death or smth. Death is an OC.

Status: Hiatus

Ghosts of Our Pasts AU: Tumblr.

A Dark Cacao Backstory AU that was made because I was bored idk. This was written prior to the Dark Cacao update but fleshed out afterwards. All known fanfictions of it were in my Deactivated Account (cause I was a dumbass and accidentally deleted my Account) but I intend to rewrite it and flesh it out some more. I do not intend to make it a fanfiction though, since I prefer it being explained in arts. And mostly because it’s an AU for DCA’s backstory that really contradicts canon.

Status: Uhh????? Idk I make references to it sometimes???

Outcast AU: Tumblr

Traitor Licorice except it’s Red Velvet and Dark Choco who had enough of the CoD. A comedy/Slice of Life AU I made a while back. (In my Deactivated Account) takes place before the DCA update.

Status: Ongoing

Chocobrave AU: Tumblr

An AU where Dark Cacao adopts Gingerbrave. That’s it. That’s the AU. No it is not a ship, this is mainly a Father and Son AU that’s it. (I’ve had an ask before and I feel like I need to clarify) Also this AU is mainly angst with no comfort so get comfy.

Status: Ongoing (Mostly Oneshots)

Future AU

An AU that takes place after DE’s defeat. The Ancients have given up their Soul Jam, thus causing them to pass on. Leaving Earthbread under the protection of the Main 5. However something in Gingerbrave snaps causing him to steal the Soul Jam and create conflict for Earthbread once more.

Status: Ongoing (Told via visual arts)

That time I Adopted a God AU: Tumblr.

An AU where the Ovenbreakers defeat the Witches and become gods, creating Earthbread and all its inhabitants. One day Nameless One pops on over to Earthbread in mortal form and ends up getting adopted by Dark Cacao Cookie.

Status: Ongoing.

Ancients are Gods AU: Tumblr.

Yeah the title is self explanatory except this was a joint AU between me, @beatrixblog and @boneasin not gonna add a status under this because I’m not sure if we’re gonna continue it or not. Bone hasn’t been active in a while…

New AUs:

Pastry Cult AU: Tumblr probably.

Gingerbrave gets baked early and ends up in the clutches of the St Pastry Order, after discovering the truth of the Witches, fueled by bitterness and resentment Gingerbrave spreads false information about the Witches in order to send the cult to its doom.

Status: It’s new so…

Cookie Empires AU: Tumblr probably.

The Ovenbreakers were made to be the Beasts replacements, but seeing what happened to the last batch, The Witches decided to choose cookies to wield the Soul Jams instead of baking a new batch. Now without purpose the Ovenbreakers build empires in the Continent of Crispia and become their respective rulers. Immortal through other means and powerful through their dough.

Status: Still new.

I’m gonna add the Ninjago AUs in here since this is my main blog, however I’d like to ask people to uhh…just go to my Ninjago blog to talk about Ninjago because I mainly use this account for CRK. Maybe later since I’m lazy..

Ninjago Blog

[mvltisstuff]

hi!! could you possibly do a one-shot where buck and reader are flirting during the dosed episode? like they get high and are handcuffed and are just giggling and flirting and then accidental confession or something and then the next day they’re just like “i’m pretty sure we’re dating now..” thank you so so much!! this idea just made me giggle so <33

you get me so high - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif does not belong to me

a/n: i adore this idea, thank you for sharing <3 i worked on this very sporadically, and i’m not the biggest fan of it but i hope you enjoy!

whoever brought those brownies in was an angel to y/n. yeah, a felony for sure, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t secretly enjoy it.

even though the whole station had been haunted by taylor and her team the entire day, all of the worries of the job seemed to vanish. buck wasn’t sure why, but he just saw everything different than he has before. nature called for him and he was more than excited to be at his job.

he just wanted to laugh at everything, each little girl in front of him was the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. he watched y/n from across the room, sitting on the floor and playing with a girl in a massive dress shaped like a pastry.

“where did you get this dress?” she asks, running her fingers down the satin on the side.

“my mommy bought it for me!”

“can she buy one for me?” y/n asks, turning her head to see the grown firefighter skipping over.

“y/n!” he shoots out quickly, jogging over to lean next to her on the ground.

“hi buck! will you buy me a dress like this?”

“only if you buy me one,” he smiles. “maybe we should put bobby in one.” he starts completely laughing at the thought of bobby in a pretty pink dress, with a sash and a tiara.

“what is going on- buck!” chim shouts. “can someone help us over here?”

“how are we not helping?” buck asks, leading y/n to just shrug. they glance over at eddie in the corner, looking at all the pageant girls like they have 5 heads. he almost looks fearful of them, swaying in his spot.

the next few minutes were a blur, and suddenly they were all handcuffed together against a wall. hen, eddie, buck, and y/n were all connected by their hands, being watched by athena like they misbehaved at school.

“ooh, you made him cry!” buck teases, looking at the tears streaming down eddie’s face. y/n just looks closer to athena’s face.

“you’re a hot cop, thena,” y/n speaks airily, just smiling cheekily at the officer in front of her.

“you guys are high as hell and you’re on duty.”

“what?” hen exclaims. “i didn’t smoke anything-“

“well you ate something! someone brought marijuana brownies into the station, so you’re all off work.”

the team just looks around in shock, not fully caring until y/n and buck start giggling once more. “just- just sit down against this wall, and do not move.” athena demands, walking away to deal with the other emergency in the main room.

y/n and buck sat fine against the wall, comparing hands and very lightly slapping each other on the sides. a few spouts of silence would happen for a few minutes while the group of stoners just watched the world pass in front of them.

“buck,” y/n whispers.

“what?” he asks.

“you’re really cute, like i just figured i’d let you know.”

“thanks, you’re a cutie, too,” she giggles at his words, throwing her head back against the wall as he just glances at her. normal, sober buck would’ve had a racing heart and nerves fluttering all over his body because she told him he was cute. he knows he’s not bad looking, but hearing it from her is when he truly believes it. now, he just figured why not? yolo, anyway.

“no, you’re like cute cute. like hot oiled up firefighter cute.”

“that means so much, y/n,” he says, the sly remark almost making his heart clench.

“i want you under my christmas tree.”

“well, i want you in an easter egg for me.”

“well, i want you-“

“can you just shut up?” eddie asks, still distressed about being handcuffed and drugged. “we get it, you’re into each other. and what happens when you’re not high?”

“i don’t remember talking to you,” buck teases, giving eddie a side eye but keeping his head directed towards the pretty girl next to him.

“alright,” athena comes back into sight. “let’s get you all home, maybe sleep off some of this.”

the next morning, y/n remembered every little thing she said to buck, and he remembered every little thing he said to her. they hoped maybe it was like alcohol, making them forget what they may or may not have said, but nope. it was clear as day. it didn’t feel as awkward, though. it felt easier. like a weight was off their shoulders after being weighed down for so long.

when they both arrived at work, the look from the other just told them everything they had to know. buck meant everything he said, and so did she. her eyes lightly wandered over his, and he didn’t even make her say anything. they both knew that those cookies made a great thing burst open.

[katyawriteswhump]

Munson’s Munchies (aka The Sweetest Thing) 💝

For @steddiemicrofic January prompt, ‘new,’ @steddiebingo fill, whisper. Inspired by this post from @sofadofax and reblogged on @steddieficadopt, by @steddiecameraroll thank you so very much. This isn’t long enough to do the lovely prompt justice so I might expand on how the relationship actually develops before we get to the HEA, would very much like to, plus there’s tons of scope left for other fic versions!

WC: 517; Rating: T; CW: past drug use. tags: fluff, pining, steve has a forever crush on eddie, bakery products, happy ever after. Summary: When Steve spies a new store, it rekindles some very old feelings he never got around to acting upon.

💝💝💝💝💝

Steve didn’t usually notice anything new on Hawkins Main Street, even when he’d been away.

He spotted the new pastry store—Munson’s Munchies!—and his heart gave one of those flutters he’d forgotten existed. These days, any fizzle of excitement was usually shadowed with a resounding, Meh!

That’s what all his relationships came to, right?

Now, Steve’s heart pattered so madly it leaped into his throat. He plucked the courage to enter.

A bell tinkled sweetly above loud hardcore metal. Steve breathed deep of honeycomb, choc-pastries, syrupy brioche and fresh coffee. There were lil’ round tables with chequered pink and neon-slime-green cloth, cute china cups, then…

…he shimmied through some beaded curtains.

Eddie Munson.

The secret crush that’d consumed Steve’s soul, which he’d never acted on. Never got close enough to Eddie to flirt, even. Eddie had epitomised cutting-edge geekery crossed with bad-boy cool. Steve hadn’t had a clue how to approach him, other than being a douche.

Now, Eddie wore a lurid-pink Munson’s Munchies apron. He’d gotten his hair piled in a messy bun, loose strands framing his face, kissing those dimples.

Eddie was perfect.

As recognition hit, the placid customer-services half-smile on that lush mouth segued into a devilish grin.

“Harrington?”

“Hey.” Steve offered a dumb little wave, blushing like a cupcake cherry. It’s not like he’d returned to Hawkins to hook up with Eddie, though he still fantasized about what might’ve been, and…

…why the hell did he come back?  After two aimless years of city-hopping, dead-end jobs, and meaningless sex? Unless…

Steve sucked his lip.

“You want cake?” asked Eddie, “Otherwise, loving the conversation, dude. Could chitchat like this all night.”

Didn’t come for cake. Came in for YOU.

Steve literally facepalmed. “Sorry, spotted your name and… Wow! This place is cool. Yeah, I’ll have cake. What do you recommend?”

Eddie’s grin reached his eyes, sparkled, and sent tingles down Steve’s spine. “My nutty brownies are the real deal.”

“Uh… can I pass? Literally anything else. I had a really bad experience with brownies at High School, and…” Eddie’s turn to facepalm. “What?”

Steve selected a choc-mint-cupcake. Eddie poured afternoon-tea-for-two at a table with shiny-metallic doilies and ’fessed up. He discovered his love of creating pastries while dealing, baking weed into brownies: “I made a bogus batch for Tommy H once. He’d been picking on Gareth and—”

“—don’t sweat it. It might not have been the same ones, but I reckon he paid the revenge on. Tommy and I were on the ‘outs,’ and… Uuuuurgh, the headache! Never barfed so much, ever.”

“Man, I’m sorry.” Eddie winced, sipping tea delicately, pinkie finger raised.

“I’d honestly forgive you anything,” whispered Steve.

Shit. WHISPERED THAT TOO LOUD.

One afternoon, while they baked together, Steve discovered he actually craved brownies again. Eddie fed them to him, smearing crumbs on Steve’s lips, till Steve sucked those delicious fingers deep, kissed them messily then kissed Eddie ravenously. After that, he always swallowed brownies waaaaay too fast—salty-chocolate was his second-fave flavor.

Only Eddie knew his top favorite.

After years of living above their co-owned store, Eddie knew his Stevie’s favorite everything.

💝💝💝💝💝

zero pressure tag: @wheneverfeasible 💚 My stranger things fic on AO3

[companionjones]

Copenhagen

Pairing: Luca x Fem!Berzatto!Reader

Fandom: The Bear (Hulu)

Summary: You go to Copenhagen with Marcus, and meet Luca.

Warnings: SMUT, Cursing

*******

    “I don’t know why you’re coming with me,” Marcus stated in the airport. “You know I can do this by myself.”

    “I do know you can do this by yourself,” you agreed, “But I can’t explain it. I have to watch you do this by yourself...and going to Copenhagen is pretty great, too.”

    Marcus smiled. “Yeah, right.” He rolled his eyes.

    You were a Berzatto, Bear and Sugar’s little sister. It was Carmy’s idea to open a new restaurant when you all found Mikey’s money, and you and Nat were just helping out where you could. You threw yourself into this new project, though. A lot of it was to honor your late brother, but there was something else involved. You couldn’t put your finger on it, no matter how hard you tried. For some reason, you were as driven to open up the Bear as Carmy was, and you weren’t even involved in the kitchen.

    Copenhagen was a beautiful city. Honestly, you loved anywhere that wasn’t America, but Chicago was your home.

    “Who are you?” a British voice called out as you entered the pastry section of the kitchen.

    You caught the eye of the man wondering who you were and quickly answered, “My name is Y/n Berzatto, are you Luca?”

    He nodded, “That’s correct. You’re here to ask me questions?”

    “About Marcus and your time together today, yes,” you confirmed.

    Before you could get your first question in, Luca had a query of his own. “Why didn’t you come in with Marcus today?”

    “We’re opening a restaurant back in Chicago. There’s a lot of stuff I have to do,” you smiled.

    Luca smiled as well. “Alright. Fire away.”

    You had a few questions to as Luca regarding Marcus and the craft, and that took you about ten minutes. “Thank you,” you bid genuinely when you were done.

    “No problem,” Luca was still smiling at you. “Can I ask, why did you come all the way to another country when you could have sent those questions in an email?”

    There was that same line of questioning Marcus had been asking you as you got on the plane over there. “Because...I just want everything to go right for this restaurant. I can’t explain it...but...”

    “You care about everything, more than anything,” he finished for you.

    That was the best you had heard your reasoning be explained, and you weren’t even the one that explained it. “Yeah,” you smiled at him in return.

    “Yeah.” Luca went on, “Do you cook?”

    “No, no,” you laughed off. “That’s my brothers’ thing. My-my sister and I stick to the paperwork side of things.”

    “I find that surprising,” Luca revealed, “Carmen is the best chef I’ve ever worked with.”

    You laughed again. “Yeah, I get that all the time.”

    “Do you want to help me out with something?” Luca offered.

    Daring forward, you peaked at his work. “What is it?”

    “It’s called a compote. I could teach you how to make it, if you’d like.”

    “Haven’t you done enough teaching for today?” You referenced Marcus.

    Luca just smiled at you. “I don’t consider this work. Especially involving someone as beautiful as you.”

    You felt your cheeks heat up. “Well, how could I say no to that invitation?”

    Making it was easy enough. It involved boiling mixed berries, sugar, and honey...and that’s about it. You knew he went extra easy on you.

    “Do you make this dessert for all the girls who wander into your kitchen?” you teased as you and Luca shared the compote.

    He was quick to quietly respond. “No. Only you.”

    A chill ran down your spine. You decided to remind him. “I’m only in Copenhagen for a week.”

    “Darling, I’ve been wanting to do this since you walked in here.”

    Without another thought, you leaned in and kissed him.

    Almost everything about him was soft. His hands as they caressed your face, his lips as they danced with yours, everything was soft except for his chest as you racked your hands down it, aiming for his belt. His chest was hard as hell. You could feel his muscles flex as your hands came in contact with him.

    Luca stopped you as you reached his belt. “Not yet,” he told you before standing and lifting you up onto the counter with little effort, “Can I take these pants off, darling?”

    You lifted your hips as he slid the clothing down your legs. He planted a few kisses on them as he rose back up to meet your lips again.

    Luca stood between your legs and slid his fingers up your folds as he kissed you. He held the two fingers up between you. “All this for me?”

    “You weren’t the only one who wanted this to happen as soon as I walked in,” you revealed.

    Luca put his two fingers in his mouth and sucked, all while keeping his eyes on you. “Now this is the best thing I can remember tasting in a long time...you ready?”

    “Please,” you nodded.

    Luca kissed you again before inserting his two fingers inside you.

    You whined against his lips, and grabbed onto his shoulders.

    Slowly, he started pumping them in and out of you with you rocking your hips along with him. Luca made out with you as he did that. You could barely keep up with his tongue. Soon, he brought in three fingers, and suddenly, you couldn’t keep up at all. You decided to wrap your legs around Luca and to just sit there and let it happen to you.

    You felt your orgasm rising in your stomach. You were almost there when Luca pulled his fingers out of you.

    “Fuck, darling. Can’t take it anymore,” was all he could say. He pulled his pants down enough to free his sizeable dick before shoving it inside you.

    You let out a yelp, but Luca cut you off by covering your lips with his again.

    Luca immediately started thrusting in and out of you. “That’s more like it,” he said when he broke away from kissing you. At a certain point, he just held you close as he, almost violently, made love to you.

    “Luc--!” Your voice broke off as you came.

    “That’s it. Squeeze me just like that--Good girl,” Luca emphasized as he came inside you with one final thrust. He brought his forehead back to yours before holding you in another kiss.

    When that kiss broke, you asked Luca, “Can I have my pants back, please?”

    “Of course.” He broke away from you with a laugh as he quickly readjusted his pants and belt and found your clothes lying on the floor.

    You took the last bite of the compote as you waited.

    With everyone’s clothes back on, Luca extended, “You’re more than welcome to come back any time you’d like, and not just for...that. Though, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

    “I wouldn’t be opposed, either,” you returned, mocking his accent.

    Luca cracked a smile as he looked at you. He slowly leaned back in for another kiss.

    When you returned it, Luca leaned you against the counter.

    The kiss eventually ended and you bid, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Luca.”

    “See you tomorrow, Y/n.”

    Two of your hands touched as you walked away, only breaking contact when you were too far to keep it.

    You left Luca alone in his kitchen.

Sequel! Chicago

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, I have more stories over on my page, you should check it out. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you!

[creatur3featur3]

Dream come True?

A/N: this is the first fic i've written in little over a year so feel free to lmk what you think with a comment or two! also some word/spelling errors, i made this while sick at 11pm 😭🙏

warning: none :3

word count: 1.1k

summary: your dream of going to Billie's show suddenly becomes a reality

part 2

------------------------<3----------------------------

You had been listening to Billie’s new album ‘HIT ME HARD AND SOFT’ ever since it had been released, over and over and over, and well you get the point.

And when you heard Billie was going on tour?- you nearly cried, well no- you did cry, a lot at that.. but as usual the universe wasn't on your side.

“No- No, No, No, NO!-” you practically screamed as you scrolled down to the New York shows, desperately refreshing the page as if the big bold letters “SOLD OUT” would disappear. You had never even had a chance to try and even go to any of her shows even once, you were pretty tight on money due to New york’s crazy prices for just about everything and the moment you had saved up enough money to buy a show ticket? of course you wouldn't be quick enough to get one or even try.

You slammed your head down on your mattress, whining pretty pathetically as your best friend, Amber awkwardly sat next to you, looking up from her phone where she was texting her boyfriend. She sighed softly and shook her head as she tilted down to meet your sad eyes, “all sold out already?”

“yes…” you grumbled, shoving your face into your comforter. “You should at least expect it somewhat, I mean she's Billie Eilish for goodness sake….” Amber hummed as she went back to messaging Lucas.

You sat up slightly, resting your chin on your palm, “I know!” you groaned as you rubbed at your eyes clean of your stupid tears, it felt so stupid to cry over someone who didn't know you at all and you'd never have the chance of meeting, but here you were-

“I just!- She coming to New York three times, Amber! THREE!! and every single show is sold out in under the first day it seems like!” you wailed as you shoved your face back into your blanket.

Amber sighed softly, setting down her phone and gently placing her hand on your back, rubbing soft circles over it- “You know, maybe it's for the best… I mean you'd probably explode if you even had a chance to see Billie in person-” Amber offered, making you scoff harshly.

You wanted nothing more, you'd sell your soul if you had to- or your car…

—-

That was a few weeks ago now, you were still mourning the loss of course but you still had to go to work- so here you were clocking in to your mom's bakery for the oh so convenient shift of 4AM… like anyone was actually up at this time but you had to start making the pastries for the day.

You kneaded at the dough, softly grunting as you rolled it out and cut the dough, shaping it into croissants and setting it on the tray. Though the soft ringing of the front entry door opening and closing caught your attention.

“Seriously…?” you sourly muttered to yourself, who the hell is up at 4:28 in the morning getting breakfast?!- you walked out from the back, sighing excessively as you spoke in a pretty harsh tone-

“Sorry if your here for any pastries you'll have to wait another two hours or so-” though when you met the eyes of the woman who walked in you were shocked-

Billie

fucking

Eilish.

“Oh, no worries- I can wait, I don't have to be anywhere today thankfully,” she shrugged confidently as she met your eyes, those bright blue eyes staring back into yours. You felt your face naturally go red from embarrassment.

You stood there awkwardly before letting out a forced chuckle, “I-I don't want to having to wait in here all by yourself while I make stuff- that'd be kind of rude considering your, well-”

“Billie Eilish?” she finished with a soft smile.

“...yeah…” you mumbled in an almost embarrassed way, well no- it WAS in an embarrassed way, 100 percent.

Though she just simply sat down in one of the booths, crossing her legs, “I may be a singer but that doesn't mean i'm not human enough to not really care-” she chuckled softly, making your heart jump.

“Right- sorry-” You quickly replied.

“I, take it you're a fan?” she asked, not prying but just genuinely looking to see what she was to you in a way. “Uh yeah!-” you awkwardly smiled, “I tried to get a ticket to any of the shows your having here but you know-” you died off at the end, rubbing the back of your neck with the hand that was still completely covered in flour.

“Oh- for real? Do you want one or something? I can just get you set up.” she offered, making you do a double take.

“A-Are you serious?-”

“Yeah, it's easy, I can get you up front too, if you want, I know that some people are sensitive to the bass.” she hummed, pulling out her phone to do god knows what. Then she met your eyes again, tilting her head to the side slightly as if you were just as regular as a friend to her. “So?”

You were star struck, you didn't even know what to say. On the more obvious hand, this was Billie Eilish offering you a completely free ticket to one of her shows, you had to yes. But on the more annoying hand that wanted to have some sort of confidence for some version- you wanted to say no.

“uhhh… i don't think so- I mean it's asking a lot from you really-”

“Nah it's fine, i'll just get you a VIP pass, just tell someone in security to go get me, I know they probably won't listen but if I hear about someone being annoying i'll assume it's probably you-” Billie chuckled.

“...u-uh- okay…”

There was an awkward silence, your shoes squeaking against the floor before Billie spoke up again, “on second thought- i'll just have someone come pick it up… You've got a nice place here but I'd rather not sit down in silence by myself today…” and this time you let out a small genuine laugh, “I hear you.”

Billie stood up and walked over to the counter where you stood behind, “Nice meeting you by the way, most fans I meet are kinda crazy about seeing me,” She chuckled. “Oh believe me i'm going crazy inside.” You scoffed, making her smile. “Well, I'm gonna dip, maybe see you round…?” she shrugged. “Yeah, maybe…” you repeated as she walked over to the front door and opened it. though she looked back- “oh I didn't catch your name.”

“oh- it's Y/N.”

“Y/N… Nice name,” Billie hummed before she walked out, the bell ringing softly of her exit. you stood there in silence before quickly picking up your phone and speed dialing Amber's number.

“Amber-HOLY SHIT YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED-”

[emma23]

Told you so :

Jake Lockley x reader

The smell of roasted coffee and sweet pastries filled the air as you leaned against the counter in the cozy café. Jake was behind the espresso machine, as usual, his sleeves rolled up to reveal those forearms that never failed to distract you. He glanced up, catching your stare, and his lips curved into a sly smirk.

“Y’know, if you keep looking at me like that, you’re gonna owe me an explanation,” he teased, voice low and gravelly, dripping with that signature confidence.

You rolled your eyes, trying to mask the way your cheeks flushed. “I was not staring at you.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Yeah, sure, princesa. Whatever you say.”

Jake had always been like this—playful, teasing, and utterly infuriating. Yet, somehow, he made it impossible not to smile. You’d known each other for years, and somewhere along the way, he’d become your rock. Your person.

You glanced down at your stomach, the faint swell beneath your oversized hoodie a reminder of just how much things had changed between you. Well, not completely. Jake still got under your skin, and you still gave him hell for it.

“Did you confirm the appointment for later?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual as you sipped your coffee.

Jake grabbed a towel and wiped down the counter, his dark eyes meeting yours. “Yeah, I did. But I don’t get why you’re dragging me along. Don’t you want Layla or someone less… y’know, me?”

You shook your head, biting back a grin. “Jake, you’re the father of this baby. You’re coming whether you like it or not.”

His expression softened for a moment, the teasing bravado giving way to something deeper. “I’d come anywhere for you, princesa. You know that.”

The ultrasound room was quieter than you expected, except for the soft hum of the machine. You lay on the examination table, Jake sitting beside you, his hand gripping yours tightly.

Dr. Jeremy adjusted the wand on your belly, her eyes focused on the monitor. “The baby is in a good position. Would you like to know the sex now?”

Jake, who had been surprisingly quiet, suddenly blurted out, “Yes! I mean… uh… if she wants to know.”

You burst out laughing, squeezing his hand. “I do want to know, Jake.”

He nodded, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Good. Me too.”

The doctor smiled, clicking a few buttons before turning to both of you. “Congratulations. You’re having a baby girl.”

The words hit you like a tidal wave. A baby girl. You stared at the screen, the blurry black-and-white image suddenly becoming the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

“I’m having a baby girl,” you whispered, tears pooling in your eyes as a grin spread across your face.

Jake’s grip on your hand tightened, and when you turned to look at him, his expression nearly knocked the breath out of you. His brown eyes were wide, his smile so big it was almost goofy.

“A girl,” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. Then, with a triumphant grin, he added, “Told you so.”

You let out a watery laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, you did.”

For a moment, you just stared at each other, both of you grinning like complete idiots. And you didn’t care. Because in that tiny room, everything felt perfect.

Jake hadn’t left your side since the appointment. Now, back at home, you sat curled up on the couch with a blanket over your lap. Jake had insisted on cooking dinner, though his version of “cooking” mostly involved ordering takeout and making sure your glass of water was never empty.

“You’re gonna be such a dad,” you teased as he handed you a plate of food.

He flopped down beside you, his arm immediately wrapping around your shoulders. “Damn right, I am. Best dad this kid’s ever gonna have.”

You snorted. “She doesn’t have much competition, Jake.”

He smirked, leaning closer. “True. But I’ll still be the best.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled as you leaned into him. Jake might’ve been rough around the edges, but when it came to you—and now your baby girl—he was all in.

Later, in bed, Jake pulled you against his chest, his lips brushing your temple. His hands rested protectively over your belly, and you could feel his breath tickling your hair.

“You scared?” he murmured after a long silence.

You hesitated, then nodded. “A little. Okay, a lot.”

“Me too,” he admitted. “But we’re gonna figure it out. Together. You and me.”

You turned in his arms, meeting his gaze. “Jake… do you ever think about how we got here? I mean, we’ve been through so much, and now…”

“And now we’re having a kid,” he finished, a small smile playing on his lips. “Kinda crazy, huh?”

You laughed softly. “Yeah. Kinda crazy.”

Jake leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was soft and lingering. It was moments like these—when he let his walls down—that reminded you why you loved him.

When he pulled back, his grin was back in place. “Just so you know, she’s totally gonna be a daddy’s girl.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” you shot back, poking his chest. “She’s gonna love her mom way more.”

“We’ll see about that, princesa.”

As you settled back into his arms, a contented silence fell over you. Whatever the future held, you knew one thing for sure: you wouldn’t want to face it with anyone else.

[soarelesiluna-ao3]

If you're up for it, can I request some Bojere cuddles? 🥹 Or just Bojere being cute!

HELL YEAH BOJERE!!!

FINALLY BOJERE 😭😭😭😭 now all I need is some Joker Out asks and some Luke Black x Filip Baloš and my life is complete /hj

My first ever rpf fanfic was a BoJere one back in 2023 when Tavastia 1 happened. You can read it right here (It's pure NSFW so be warned) if you're interested!

I'm happy to write something cute abt them yes yes 🥰 I might be a bit rusty bc it's been pretty long since I last wrote abt them but hey I can try!

This is set on the hypothetical "colder months" that didn't happen yet </3 come onnnn guys!!

Content under the cut!

"Here, I brought coffee."

Bojan sat down on the couch in his living room and placed both cups on the table. Sitting there was, unbelievably, Jere Pöyhönen in the flesh. The real one and not a dumb fantasy he had on nights where sleep escaped him like a mouse from a chasing cat. And he was there, drinking coffee with a blanket draped over his legs.

"Thank you", Jere smiled, lifting his cup as if to make a toast before taking a sip. "Strong one, this one. Very good."

"It's one of my special roasts. I get them at a coffee shop in Serbia when I travel", Bojan took his place right beside Jere. "We should go get coffee there sometime."

"We travel to Serbia just for coffee?" The Finn laughed at the idea. "Well if you say so, then must be good. They have like, good food too?"

"Yeah they do. They make good pastries. Though, are you sure you can drink coffee this strong? You know, your stomach and all."

"I take pill before coffee comes, so it's good. And if I get sick anyway, you take good care of me, right Bojan?"

The slovene couldn't help but stare at those big puppy eyes when he asked such a question, tilting his head like an actual dog. He looked adorable. That's the cutest look on Earth. Still, for some reason, he chose to play it cool. You know, as if Jere wasn't actually his boyfriend since 2023.

"Pff, of course I will, I'm the best nurse you'll ever meet. I have taken care of... Myself. And me. And some bloke called Bojan Cvjetićanin."

"I know that bloke!" A moment passes. "Heeey, don't talk about my boyfriend like that!"

"Okay, sorry!" The both of them were laughing at this point. Without realizing it, Bojan leaned his head over Jere's shoulder. And he pulled him closer by the waist in response.

"Cuddle with me, Bojan", he asked in a quiet voice. "Please?"

"Just because you asked so nicely", the singer replied, leaving his coffee mug by the table to hold on to his waist and hide a bit in his chest. "You're so warm..."

"If you like you can hug me forever and stay warm all winter", Jere's mug got placed right beside Bojan's. "Also, that mean you and I can't separate. You and I have stay forever together. Or well, in winter. All winter."

"I'd spend all my winters with you. And all my summers, springs and autumns."

That phrase seemed to move Jere's heart, because he didn't react for a solid moment. And when he did, it was to kiss the singer's forehead, trailing kisses down his nose until he reached his lips for a proper one. A heartfelt, soft kiss that could've lasted forever.

"Me too. I give my life for you if you ask", he smiled. "I love you, Pasi."

"And I love you too, Jerč. More than anything."

[cloudy-em]

Neeeeeeeeeeed Cam Girl p2!!!!!!

of course!!

a few people requested to be tagged in this one lol:

@arieltwvdtohamflash @writergiih @som-iserem @flowercrowns-goodvibes

MINORS DNI!

﹒⪩⪨﹒

Over the next month, Luca found himself getting addicted to Y/N's videos and streams. He loved watching her play with her pussy, her cute lingerie pushed to the side so she could use whatever toy she wanted.

He felt less shameful over time, as well. Yes, she was his coworker and she could never know he enjoyed her content so much, but her content was also on the internet for the world to see. "If she didn't want to run the risk of me seeing it, she wouldn't have posted it in the first place," he reasoned.

The day came that Luca fucked up.

He and Y/N were working late, the only ones left in the restaurant. She was piping cream on some pastries, and he was garnishing them with perfectly placed berries. They made a good team.

Luca was distracted, though. He could smell her vanilla shampoo, and all he could think about was burying his face in her hair while he fucked her senseless. He was interrupted from his thoughts with Y/N clearing her throat.

"Would you mind passing that extra piping bag, please?" she asked politely.

"Only if you behave," Luca responded before his eyes went wide. "I'm so sorry, that was a joke I-" he began to apologize.

"What the hell?" Y/N asked, confused. She glanced down to see his semi-hard cock straining in his pants, thought back to how he had looked at her the past couple of days, and suddenly this comment made sense.

"You're attracted to me?" She asked. Luca looked down in response.

"Very much so, yes," he replied. "Which I know is inappropriate, but you're very pretty and god, your streams-" she cut him off, blushing.

"You know about those?"

He hesitated. "Yeah," he said. "They're hot."

"Oh," she started. "I'm glad you think so. You know, since you're so attracted to me, do you think you'd like to make some content with me?" she asked.

Luca was in shock. "Um, yeah, yeah I'd love to."

So, they rushed to finish up the last of their pastries for the evening, and walked from the restaurant to Y/N's apartment.

﹒⪩⪨﹒

"So," Luca began as he watched Y/N finish setting up her camera on its tripod. "What do I do?"

She shrugged. "Just what you'd normally do. You can fuck me however you want, and I'll just leave the camera running. Then I can edit out what I need to and post it."

Luca nodded.

"You ready?" Y/N asked.

"Yes," Luca practically moaned as he watched Y/N strip off her top, revealing her tits covered by her bra. She walked towards him, breasts bouncing slightly, and kissed him roughly. He placed his big hands around her waist, moving her to straddle him.

The kissing grew needier by the second, Luca shoving his tongue into Y/N's mouth. He pulled away, Y/N whining.

"You gonna be a good girl for daddy?" he asked her, eyes staring into hers.

Y/N moaned, "Yes, daddy, I'll be your good girl."

"Good," Luca said, flipping them over. He pulled off his shirt, then proceeded to pull down her pants and panties in one movement. He looked up at her as he slowly moved his face towards her pussy, watching her facial expression grow desperate.

He licked a fat stripe up her cunt, flicking his tongue against her clit. She groaned and felt him smirk into her mound, moving his lips to kiss her hole.

"What a pretty pussy you have," he said and moved his large fingers to gently rub her slit, getting them wet. He pushed his fingers into her, sliding slowly into her. She moaned at the stretch.

He thrusted his fingers a few times before curling them up to hit her g-spot, tickling her pussy gently with his breath before he began licking her clit again. He moaned against it, sending vibrations through her body. She shuddered in response.

"Daddy, please," she moaned out, desperate for more.

"Hmm?" Luca hummed, his focus on eating her cunt.

"I want your cock please," Y/N begged.

And who was Luca to deny what his good girl wanted?

He pulled down his pants and boxers, his large cock slapping against his stomach and dripping precum. He kissed the top of her cunt one more time before kissing Y/N's cheek and rubbing his tip through her wetness.

Her nails dug into his back as he slowly pushed into her, stretching her pussy and filling it to the brim with his cock. He knew that's what she wanted; all good girls want to be full of their daddy's cock.

"Mmm, daddy," she moaned as he began slowly thrusting, her pussy gushing around him.

"That's it, moan for daddy," Luca ordered. So Y/N did as she was told and moaned for him again. Luca grunted in response and sped up his thrusts.

He was fucking her so fast, so hard, that she was seeing white. It felt so good. It had been so long since she'd had a real cock in her, and Luca's was everything she ever needed and more.

"'m not gonna last long," he warned. "You're so tight."

So Y/N clenched her pussy in response, milking him. All she wanted was his cum inside her.

"Cum inside me, please," she begged. "Breed me."

At those words, Luca lost control, fucking her as fast as he could, hitting as deep as he could. He felt her legs shaking as she came around him, which triggered his own orgasm, shooting thick ropes into her.

"That was so good," he said as he rolled over next to her, his breathing heavy.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Plus it'll make us some damn good money."

﹒⪩⪨﹒

as always, thank you for reading!

please send in some fluffy requests as well! i love writing smut but 100% of my inbox is currently smut requests and i'm not always in the mood for it :)

[who1ssheesh]

Fluff Xanxus promts

From prompt list by @novelbear

Notes: I love his so much I wanted to cry while writing this. He is OOC and I’m not sorry, I truly believe big scary characters have the softest souls.

Warnings: OOC, not proofread at all, English is still not my native language (maybe one day idk I way told you gotta drink a potion for that), sweating as always, a droplet of sadness

⋆ Always giving the other the first bite of their food

You think Xanxus is bitching again. Maybe it’s all about an almost shoe cook for the reason your man himself couldn’t explain, but who could be sure. He is creaking the plate with a fork messing his untouched meal, and you swear to god are trying to be patient.

You mutter under your nose and get back to your phone, leaving Xanxus alone with his mood swings.

Until you feel something touch you cheek - too hot and too good smelling to be his lips or tongue.

“The hell are you doing?”, with a confused gaze you look at Xanxus holding out some steak piece on a fork.

“Shut the fuck up and eat”, he doesn’t sound irritated as usual though, more like…passive. Even calm you could say, but Xanxus is never calm, right?

“Is my man pampering me?”, you cannot help but smile, especially pointing out those words he oh so much likes, and shake your head coquettishly.

“Just making sure my food isn’t poisoned, brat”, Xanxus answers with a slight smirk that doesn’t go past your eyes.

⋆ Keeping a few of their favorite snacks in the house for when they visit

Xanxus is not domestic at all. A bit whiny cat that comes by your house from time time for the longest time. At least that’s what he thinks, after some times you notice ок is around your apartment more times than he is absent, which allows you to find out some of his habits. Sleeping on a specific side for example. The way Xanxus keeps bumping your leg when he wants you attention or…him having the sweetest tooth in the world.

It started with a cheesecake. You didn’t pay much attention, because eating everything in your house and leaving is pretty Xanxus, to be honest here. But then you see that only certain sweets disappear, it feels as if a very big scary bulky mafioso visits you just to steal candies. He, it seems, enjoys something on a lighter side, not too sweet - cakes with fruits for their little sourness, bitter coffee flavored chocolates. He does indeed enjoy pastry and “fancy” patisserie goods but hates caramel, to this day you wonder why.

You have to admit, getting cakes almost on a daily for Xanxus does bite your wallet - just imagine, this almost two meter high thick man eats twice as much, if not trice, as you.

“You like lemon cheesecakes, huh?”, he occasionally asks while passing by. “You ass gonna become fat”, he threatens you with his finger, and you smirk at his humor despite him having a deadpan usual face - you just feel when he is in a frisky mood.

“You like thick ass, don’t you?”

Xanxus barks a laugh in return

“I think I want to try a matcha cake roll from the new bakery nearby”, you nonchalantly add, smugly looking at his broad back.

“I think you want a rosemary lemon one.”

“What makes you think so?”

“Cause you like the taste, idiot”.

You look at Xanxus checking his gun and getting ready to leave and can’t help but smile way too fondly for your liking.

“Yeah, I think you are right”

Xanxus used to have caramels as a child - very rarely, and his poor mother surely tried her best despite her condition to find at least a couple of them hoping to make her son happy just a little. She used to hide them all around their place, and Xanxus didn’t even realize it was her, being proud with his detective work and annoyingly sniffing around. It didn’t feel the same with Nono, maybe the blood and tears spoiling the taste despite the unthinkable about of money his father could and would throw his way. But it’s…funnier with you. Because Xanxus can again play a smiffing all around detective and find a delicious prize there. You are not dumb and certainly catch something with your foxy witty eyes and mischievous smile and jokes here and there but keep playing along. This small game puts Xanxus” torn soul…at ease.

But you shouldn’t know any of that, he will selfishly keep memories of his dear mother to himself the same way he did with those caramels, and sometimes he can feel pouty because you will never understand how much this small gesture from you means to him.

He doesn’t eat caramels though. Brings back bitter memories.

⋆ Kisses. on. the. tip. of. the. nose.

⋆ Zipping or buttoning their jacket for them

Xanxus is already a pain in every place possible and he makes sure he is the biggest one all the time. It’s not easier in the slightest when he is injured and getting angry because of his lack of autonomy.

You look at his swearing - which is feting louder every second - and thin your lips, not sure what to do. Yes, he has said some rude words to you. Yes, you know that your feelings matter, but realizing where Xanxus has his mood come from softens you.

You sigh in defeat, looking at his pathetic attempts to button up his shirt while having one of his arms is broken - even putting in on was a sight to see, to be fair. You don’t say a word and don’t even look up at your partner, buttoning his shirt with a frown but being so delicate, as if you can hurt one of he most dangerous people around.

Xanxus doesn’t object a bit, patiently - which is an achievement for him - waiting for you to finish, and here you both are just silently standing here and not moving anywhere.

You look up at Xanxus and he rolls his eyes in return as if not to look at you on purpose.

Your heart sings just by looking in his eyes and you cannot help but stand on your tiptoes and cup his face. Kissing the tip of his nose, you smile at his wincing face and leave one more kiss. And more. And more. Until you finally leave your butterfly touch on his lips.

⋆ Waiting until they safely reach the front of the door or get inside before driving off

Xanxus has been trying to show he’s serious, starting with driving you himself instead of sending a chauffeur, and you are glad he sis this. Both of you feel comfort in a shared silence, his hand rubbing your hip or even nipping sometimes so you don’t fall asleep, is so hot to the touch it almost burns your skin. Xanxus doesn’t like when you get to your house, because he doesn’t want to let you go, and he doesn’t give a shit you have certain needs…like sleeping at night.

Every time you walk out of the car, he does so too, and you never understand why since he’s not the one to give a hug as a goodbye - making out in the car is pretty much enough.

“Why are you keep standing there when I go home?”, you ask one day.

“Smoking.”

“Okay.”

You get out of the car, and Xanxus does so too again. He puts his hands in his pockets, no cigarettes visible anywhere and knowing his shitty humour you are certain that was one of those dumb jokes.

You go to the building and turn around before entering and you see Xanxus drilling a hole in your back with an intense gaze.

“Hey, my house could be very dangerous too, you never know”, you start, and he lifts his brow. “Maybe you just start staying overnight?”

Xanxus grins.

⋆ Doing their makeup for them

Sleepy Xanxus is a sight to behold. His dve is still wet from the water - he hasn’t even used a towel after washing his face and even cuter you find him unable to even open his eyes, wrinkling his nose and muttering some curses with a hoarse voice.

You cant help but smile and squish his cheeks - non-existent basically because he has pronounced masculine cheekbones but you are she with the amount of candies he is going to get those eventually - and Xanxus growls.

“I will murder your family.”

“Love you too, babe.”

With a loud growl Xanxus buries his nose in your neck while you try to understand how his feather accessory is supposed to be attached to his hair.

You are not sure, but by the time you finish you think he has fallen asleep again. You just kiss the back of his head and entwine your hands around his shoulders.

Before shaking him violently with all the strength you have.