#*m. baker // ic.
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ncrthernl1ghts · 1 month ago
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TAG DUMP: DR. MARTINA BAKER - PINES
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sugugasm · 6 months ago
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☆ CLICK TO PLAY ! ➜ 450 DEGREES
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YOUR LEVEL IS STARTING SOON . . .
level quest : pov ur neighbor is a firefighter, and you love a man in uniform . . just as much as he loves your chocolate chip cookies.
☆ — a message from the developer : hiii i missed uguys sm, i’m so glad to be back for realsies this time :p don’t mind any mistakes or errors & before you read — nsfw content up ahead so pretty please read these warnings !!! strangers to lovers !!! age gap alert ➜ toji is 35 and reader is 25, mentions of sexual themes such as oral, vaginal penetration, pet names such as : sweetheart, angel, baby ofc, princess, honey, etc. usage of sexual terms and usage of terms describing female anatomy, uses she/her pronouns. firefighter! toji x baker! blk fem! reader 333 — word count : 8.0K or 9.0K, i lost track LOL
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“fuck . .”
toji cut the engine of his ford pickup and sat for a moment, eyes closed, letting the silence wash over him. every muscle ached with exhaustion, the double shift of 48 hours catching up to him. he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in an actual bed instead of snatching a few hours on the lumpy firehouse couch in between calls.
sighing, he grabs his duffel from the passenger seat and levers himself out of the truck. as he turns toward the house, a flash of color across the street quickly catches his attention. his new neighbor — you, out puttering in your postage stamp front yard, wearing a tank top the same vivid coral as the geraniums you were watering and cut-off jean shorts that barely qualified as clothing to any old, bitter bastard.
he’d seen you before. many times. whether it was while leaving for an early session at the gym as you walked your puppy, or his moving day . . where he could barely order around gojo and geto, struggling to tell them where they should place certain boxes due to hearing your alluring giggle coming from the house next door, your curls flowing in the breeze as you gossiped over iced lemonade with mrs. johnson on her porch.
his thoughts are interrupted when you glance toward him, face lighting up with a friendly smile as you spotted him. “hi there! nice to finally see you in the flesh instead of just passin’ headlights at odd hours of the night.”
“sorry about that.” toji hoped his answering smile passed for normal and not serial-killer exhausted. “i’m toji, toji fushiguro. i jus’ moved in last month.”
“well m’ yn. welcome to the neighborhood!” you propped a hand on one cocked hip, thoughtlessly drawing his eye to the thickness of your legs that almost looked golden in the sun lighting.
jesus.
realizing he was staring, he jerks his gaze back to your face, feeling his neck heat up at the idea of you catching on. “thanks. s’ a nice area. quiet.”
“i like to think we're a pretty welcomin’ bunch. in fact . . .” you bite your lip, looking almost shy for a second. “i was plannin’ to do some baking later, as a housewarming gift for all the newbies. any requests? cookies, muffins, scones? i make a mean cinnamon roll too.”
an unexpected warmth kindled in toji’s chest at the kindness of the offer. even as his stomach rumbled in anticipation, he couldn't remember the last time someone had gone out of their way to do something nice for him. sadly, baked goods didn't really tend to hold up well on 24-hour shifts.
“that’s really sweet of you, thanks. i love a good chocolate chip cookie, but i’ll happily be your guinea pig for anything.”
“sounds like a plan.” you graced him with another one of those classic, southern hospitality miles. “i’ll surprise you. they’ll be over before you know it!”
“looking forward to it. i better let you get back to . .” he waves a hand vaguely at the riot of flowers on your lawn, colors and smells galore.
“oh, right. see you soon then. welcome home!” with a small wave, you bend to retrieve the watering can, giving him an unobstructed view of her perky ass in those obscenely small shorts.
strangling a groan, toji spun on his heel and double-timed it into the house before you caught him ogling you like a creep. so much for a quiet neighborhood, he thought ruefully as the door shut behind him. you were gonna’ be one hell of a distraction, though some traitorous part of him looked forward to the temptation. it’d been way too long since he'd been around a pretty girl. maybe that's what all this edginess was - his libido waking up and taking notice after a long dry spell.
well, he'd just have to keep any wayward urges in check. no matter how mouthwatering you looked in tiny cutoffs, you were practically a decade younger and a neighbor, at that. off limits. he’d accept your baked goods, enjoy a little innocent flirting, but anything more was out of the question.
resolved, he headed for the shower, already counting the minutes until he could taste whatever delights you were whipping up for him.
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the next morning, toji was on his second cup of coffee, basking in the rare luxury of an empty day ahead with no responsibilities, when the doorbell chimed. he opened it to find you, juggling a huge wicker basket with an equally enormous smile. the sweet scent of sugar, vanilla and chocolate wafted out to tease his nostrils so blissfully, just like how your sheer presence teased . . . other parts of him.
“g’mornin’,” you chirped. “i come bearing gifts from the sugar fairy.”
“so i smell . .” his mouth waters as he relieves you of the basket and ushers you inside, noting how your flowered sundress set off your peaches-and-cream personality. no shorts today, but the dress was nearly as enticing as it grasped on to your curves. he wondered if your skin would taste as good as you smelled, then mentally slapped himself.
down boy.
“i hope you don't mind me just droppin’ by like this. i wanted to catch you before you got busy.” your smile faltered slightly as you glanced around the spartan space with its generic bachelor furniture and decided lack of personal touches. “if s’ not a good time . .”
toji set the basket on the coffee table and turned to her, hands raised in mock surrender. “you came to my house bearin’ gifts of dessert. trust me, it's never gonna’ be a bad time. i may actually make some sort of sugar delivery beacon to summon you in the future.”
your laugh sounded a little relieved. “aww cute, sounds like my kind of bat signal. i’ll have to get you a spotlight shaped like a cupcake.”
“make it a cookie and you've got yourself a deal.” he grinned at you. “can i interest you in some coffee to go with whatever magic you've got in there? smells incredible.”
“coffee would be great, thank you.”
he led the way into the kitchen, noting how you took in details like the depressing lack of clutter and decoration. the only personal items were a handful of framed photos stuck to the fridge - him and his siblings as kids, his parents' wedding portrait, shots of fishing trips with his buddies — one with snow-white hair and the other with black. it struck him how sterile the space was, more like a way station than a home.
you didn't comment on it, instead you just leaned a hip on the counter and watched him pour a darkened substance into a ‘worlds worst morning person’ mug. there’s a comforting silence as he catches a whiff of your light perfume over the powerful espresso aroma - something floral and citrusy. it suited you.
“i wasn't sure what kind of treats you'd like, so i made a sampler of my greatest hits,” you say brightly. at his gesture, you unpack the basket, setting containers and various utensils on the table. “okay so . . we’ve got triple chocolate chip cookies, blueberry muffins, apple cinnamon scones, and my famous brown butter cinnamon rolls.”
“good lord,” toji shook his head in awe. “you made all this yesterday? after we spoke? do you even sleep?”
you laugh and accept the steaming mug he offered. “who needs sleep when there's sugar? besides, baking relaxes me. i love seeing people enjoy my creations.”
as if on cue, his stomach rumbles loudly, and you bit your lip against a smile. “sounds like someone's ready for a taste test. don’t be shy . . dig in.”
toji didn't need to be told twice. he selected a cinnamon roll, still warm from the oven, and bit in with a moan that would've been beyond embarrassing if his mouth wasn't full of heaven. “shit . . think i jus’ found my religion.”
you giggled that giggle that’d been stuck in his head since the day he heard it. “the cinnamon rolls tend to inspire a cult-like devotion. you haven't even tried em’ with the cream cheese frosting yet.”
he halted with the pastry halfway to his mouth for another rapturous bite. “there’s frosting too?”
in answer, you pulled a container from the basket with a flourish. “i figured you could handle adding your own so it didn't get soggy.”
“you’re an angel.” he slathered a generous amount of fluffy white frosting on the roll, not even caring that he probably looked like an overexcited kid.
watching him take another blissful bite, you cradled your coffee mug in both hands. “soo . . what d’you do that keeps you gettin’ home at such odd hours? i promise m’ not stalking you, but it's a quiet street. hard not to notice the comings and goings.”
toji washed down the sticky-sweet mouthful with a swig of coffee. “i’m a firefighter. we work 24-hour shifts, so my schedule can be pretty unpredictable."
interest sparked in your eyes. “really? that’s so cool! i bet you have some amazing stories.”
“eh. a few,” he allowed. truthfully he tried not to dwell on some of the things he'd seen, the memories that still occasionally jolted him awake in a cold sweat during the night. “it’s rewarding work, but not exactly a picnic for the social life.”
you give him a sympathetic look over the rim of her mug. “i can imagine. is that why you moved? needed a fresh start?”
“somethin’ like that. the job costed me my marriage a couple years back. got tired of walkin’ around the old place alone, so i thought a change of scenery might do me good.”
change of scenery in deed. toji even went as far as to relocate to a different state after his divorce with his wife. even the landscaping around the city had become too much of a heartache. what was once a happy, sensual marriage quickly turned sour the moment toji began working more. the position as chief hadn’t sounded that horrible in his head, but if he knew he’d come home one night - the clock reading exactly 3:17 am, to an unrecognizable man fast asleep in his bed, naked next to his wife, that that position could’ve waited. could’ve been passed on.
there’s a silent second between you two, your face still, “i-im so sorry,” you say softly, and toji feels relief when he sees that your eyes were warm with understanding, free of the pity he'd come to dread whenever his divorce came up in any other conversation he’d have with someone who didn’t know him.
he shrugged. “it is what it is. we married too young, grew apart. my hours didn't help. no hard feelings though.” he mustered up a wry smile. “what about you? you’re a little young to be living the retired grandma life, baking up a storm in the 'burbs.”
you grin, allowing him to lighten the mood. “hey, hey, hey, this grandma can party with the best of em’! fyi, i stayed up past 10 last saturday watching bad girls club.”
toji clutches his chest in feigned shock. “damn, so scandalous! what was the special occasion?”
“all have you know . . i was trying to perfect a new macaron recipe. passionfruit with dark chocolate ganache. they’re a fickle mistress though - one minute too long in the oven and they're as dry as bones.”
“sounds like bakin’ is more than jus’ a hobby for you,” he observed.
you toy with your mug. “it’s my whole life, really. i’m in my second year of culinary school, specializing in pastry arts. when i graduate, i’m hoping to open my own bakery. somewhere people feel welcome and cared for. a safe space, i suppose.” he stares, and you duck your head with an embarrassed laugh. “sorry for the tangent . . it probably sounds so silly.”
“not at all.” toji found himself impressed by the passion and dedication evident in your voice. you had a dream and you were going after it. he remembered that feeling. before the reality of adulthood had started chipping away at his own youthful idealism.
he wanted to say something to encourage you, to protect that light shining in your eyes for as long as possible. “for what it's worth, i think you're gonna’ be amazing,” he told you seriously, holding your gaze. “if this morning’s haul is any indication, you'll have lines around the block.”
you shield your smiling face sweetly. “that’s kind of you to say. i appreciate the vote of confidence. speaking of . .” you hesitate, then forge ahead. “m’ actually working on developing an original signature recipe for my final. multiple components, flavors, textures. the works.”
“sounds ambitious,” he said, eyebrows raised. “what’d you have in mind?”
your eyes sparkle with enthusiasm at the question, the thought of genuine curiosity making your heart flutter. “deconstructed black forest cake. dark chocolate cake, kirsch-soaked cherries, vanilla bean whipped cream. i wanna’ play with it, update it. maybe turn it into a trifle or a parfait of some sort.”
toji was no culinary expert. hell - he didn’t even know what half of those things were, but even he could tell you were on to something special. “that’s incredible, yn. lemme’ guess - you need a guinea pig?”
you bite your lip nervously, smile turning impish. “i didn't wanna’ impose, but since you offered the other day . . how would you like to be my official taste-tester? i can't really pay you, but you'll get free rein to sample every variation.”
“where do i sign up?” he was only half joking. even if your creations turned out to be awful, which he highly doubted, any excuse to spend more time with you sounded like a win.
you laugh. “i think i can waive the usual application process on account of the fact that you're doing me a huge favor. plus, it means you won't be able to avoid me constantly showing up at your door to force-feed you desserts.”
“oh no. however will i cope.” he feigned a put-upon sigh.
you shot him a look of amused reproof as she packed up the empty containers. “try to contain your disappointment. i promise to space out surprise sugar bombings. wouldn’t wanna’ make you sick of me or my baking."
“i don’t really think i ever could . . to be honest,” he declared firmly. on impulse, he reaches out to still your fluttering hands with his own. your skin was so soft and warm, sending a tingle zipping up his arm. your breath pauses at the contact and your eyes flew to his, startled.
“i mean it,” he said, voice gone low and intent as he tries to infuse sincerity into every word. “i can't imagine ever getting tired of you. or your company.”
for a suspended moment you just stare at each other in silence. then you swallow, sounding a little breathless as you replied, “likewise. m’ really glad you moved in, toji.”
“me too,” he said roughly. and though he knew he shouldn't, that he was venturing into dangerous territory, he allowed himself to stroke the delicate bones of your wrist with his thumb. just once, to feel your shiver lightly in response. then he released you and stepped back, moving to hold the door open for you in unspoken signal.
“i’ll get out of your hair now,” you murmured as you gathered the empty basket with hands that trembled just slightly. “but i’ll see you soon? for taste testing purposes, of course.”
“absolutely,” he confirmed. “anytime. y’know where to find me.”
with a final nod and smile, you slipped out the door. he watched you go, admiring the sway of your hips, the bounce of your hair, already counting the minutes until he'd see you again.
you were gonna’ end him, so so sweetly too., he realized with a trace of fatalism.
but what a way to go, huh? death by cinnamon rolls.
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the day of the first official tasting arrived, and toji found himself unaccountably nervous as he approached your door. he felt a like an awkward kid picking up his prom date, palms sweaty and heart knocking around his ribs. which was ridiculous. this wasn't a date. just two neighbors getting together to sample some sweets. totally casual.
never mind that he'd changed his shirt three times, vacillating between wanting to look nice for you and not wanting to seem like he was trying too hard. he’d finally settled on a plain black tee and his least disreputable pair of jeans, adding a hint of cologne as an afterthought.
now, standing on your stoop, he wished he'd brought something. flowers maybe — lillie’s like the ones in your garden, or perhaps wine. did people bring wine to taste testing sessions? probably not. you’d most likely think he was a presumptuous idiot.
shaking his head at his own weird bout of nerves, he raised his hand to knock. before his knuckles could connect, the door swung open to reveal you, looking adorably pretty and flustered. you were wearing a frilly pink apron over a gauzy white sundress scattered with tiny red cherries. your hair was bundled on top of your head in a haphazard knot, loose curls escaping to dance around your swelled cheeks. a dusting of cocoa powder streaked one of them.
“toji - oh, you’re right on time! m’ runnin’ a bit behind, so sorry. come on in.” you stepped back to let him enter and he caught a blend of tantalizing scents - rich chocolate, sweet cherries, warm vanilla, and underneath, the subtle floral musk that was purely you. it made his head swim and his stomach clench with a hunger that had absolutely nothing to do with the promise of dessert.
he followed you into the kitchen, blinking a bit as he took in the transformation. when he'd helped you carry in groceries a few days ago, the room had been tidy and quaint, with cheerful yellow walls and kitschy retro appliances. now every surface was strewn with baking detritus - bowls, whisks, spatulas, piping bags. the air was hazy with a fine mist of flour and powdered sugar, swirling in the slanting sunlight.
incongruously delicate paper doilies serving as placemats were scattered with miniature cakes, puddles of sauce, and billows of snowy cream. it looked like a fancy bakery had exploded all over the place.
“as you can see, i’ve been experimenting with a few different iterations of the concept,” you said with a small smile, waving a hand at the sugary chaos. “couldn’t settle on just one. i thought i’d get your input n’ then we could narrow it down together.”
“i’m at your service,” he told you gallantly, skating his gaze over the counter. “i’ll warn you though, my palate isn't exactly refined. you might end up with the bland 'it all tastes good' as feedback.”
you giggled. “i’ll take it. okay, let's start basic.” you gestured for him to take a seat at the flour-dusted table and set a plate in front of him. on it perched a generous slice of cake, glossy with ganache, accompanied by a scarlet swoosh of what he assumed was the cherry compote. a dollop of whipped cream, flecked with black speckles, completing the overall masterpiece look.
toji quickly picked up the fork and took a bite, closing his eyes to focus on the flavors. the cake was intensely chocolate, the ganache dark and silky. tart-sweet cherries burst on his tongue, balanced by the subtle fragrance of the vanilla-specked cream.
“damn,” he mumbled around the mouthful. “fuckin’ fantastic, yn.”
you beam, looking relieved. “yeah? the cake recipe took a while to get right. i wanted something more . . . complex than a standard chocolate cake, so i used black cocoa powder to really amp up the flavor. n’ i even added a little coffee to enhance the chocolate.”
“s’ a winner,” he assured you. “i dunno’ how you could improve on it, honestly.”
“oh i have a few ideas,” your smile turned mysterious. “you haven't seen anything yet.”
over the next hour, you walked him through several variations. chocolate cake layered with cherry compote and kirsch-soaked chocolate cake crumbs, topped with cocoa whipped cream. dark chocolate and cherry bread pudding drizzled with cherry coulis. chocolate panna cotta with drunken cherries and cherry gelée . . . and toji sampled them all, humming with pleasure while you watched him anxiously. your initial nerves seemed to melt away as you lost yourself in describing the ins and outs of each dish - the technical challenges, the way certain flavors complemented or contrasted, ideas for garnishes and plating.
he found himself captivated by your intensity, the way your whole being lit up when you talked about your craft. it was more than just a job or a hobby for you . . . it was a calling. he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that kind of soul-deep passion for anything. couldn’t take his eyes off the way your slender hands sketched shapes in the air, punctuating your words. delicate, clever hands that created so much beauty.
“earth to toji,” teased, waving one of those mesmerizing hands in front of his face. “did i lose you? too much of a sugar crash?”
toji blinked and refocused on your amused expression, realizing he'd been caught woolgathering like an idiot. “sorry, just slipped into a brief dessert coma. what were you saying?”
“i was asking what you think of this last one. it’s the more . . . wildcard of the bunch.” you pushed a small glass toward him. it looked like a miniature trifle, with layers of cake and cream, a vivid cherry layer in the middle, and a fan of shaved chocolate on top.
he dug in and had to suppress an absolutely obscene moan. the combination was incredible - velvety smooth, creamy, rich, and fruity, with a kick from what had to be a generous glug of kirsch. sweet but not cloying, a sophisticated twist on a classic.
“i think we have a winner,” he managed, not even caring that his voice came out husky. “if you're going for adding a 'wow' factor, this is it.”
you stand on your tippy-toes, looking hopeful. “you think? i couldn't decide if it was too out there. verrines aren't exactly traditional black forrest cake material.”
“doesn’t matter. it’s a showstopper. interesting to look at, fun to eat, n’ the flavor is phenomenal.” he scraped the glass clean with his spoon, not wanting to waste a drop.
your smile could've lit up the city block. “thank you, toji. you don't know how much it means to me, you bein’ here. lettin’ me talk your ear off and stuff you with treats. it really . . helps a lot."
“believe me, it's my pleasure,” he said, returning her smile with one of his own. “i haven't had this much fun in . . i can't even remember how long. i like seein’ you in your element.”
you both just grin goofily at each other for a moment, the air feeling thicker. then you hopped up and began clearing the table, stacking dishes and bustling around the small space.
“y’know i feel bad, you feedin’ me all these goodies without me contributing anything,” toji said, rising to help. “at least lemme’ take you out for a meal that isn't 90% butter and sugar. you must be sick of cookin’, day in and day out.”
you slanted him a glance, tucking a stray curl behind one ear. “m’ not, actually. it never feels like a chore. but i . . wouldn't say no to dinner out. if you're sure you don't mind.”
mind? he’d been trying to come up with an excuse to spend more time with you, and here you were gift wrapping one for him. “i’d love to,” he said firmly. “s’ the least i can do. and i’d like to hear more about this final project of yours. when do you present it?”
“next month,” a shadow crossed your expressive face, there and gone in a blink. “m’ tryin’ not to think too much about it yet. one step at a time, y’know?”
he recognized that look. the flickering uncertainty, the hint of stage fright. he’d worn it himself, back before his first real fire. wanting so badly to prove himself, to show what he was made of, terrified of choking.
impulsively, he reached for your hand, halting her flitting movements. your fingers curled reflexively around his, warm and strong. “look at me . . . you got this. you’re a star, you're gonna’ impress the hell outta’ your professors.”
you swallowed hard, eyes searching his. looking for the belief you couldn't quite muster on your own. “i hope so. i want it so much, toji. this . . all of it. it’s all i’ve ever wanted.”
“then don't let fear hold you back,” he told you gently. “don’t doubt yourself. you have a gift, mama. i know m’ a dumb scrub who can barely tell a macaron from a macaroon, but even i can see that you were born for this shit.”
your hand squeezed his, almost painfully tight. from both the nickname rolling off his tongue so elegantly and the encouragement that you sometimes failed to receive from your closest peers. “thank you, seriously,” you whispered. “for believin’ in me, i guess. it means a lot to me . . .”
he squeezes back, thumb sweeping over your knuckles. he had a sudden, wild urge to haul your into his arms. to soothe the worry from your brow with his lips, to show you with his hands and body and breath how special you were. how much he'd come to care for you in such a short time.
but he couldn't. however strong the pull, however much he wanted to cross that line, he knew it would be a mistake. you weren’t for him, this shining woman with stardust in her eyes. and he was in no position to offer you anything real. he needed to remember that.
so he contented himself with a soft “anytime,” and released your hand, stepping back to a safer distance. “now, about that dinner. friday work for you?”
you blinked, then hitched your smile back into place. it wobbled a bit at the edges, but he pretended not to notice. “friday’s great. s’ a . . . plan.”
even through the awkwardness, the unspoken words clogging the air between you, a little thrill went through him. it’s a date, you’d almost said. and god help him, he wished it was — that’s why you settled on making plans to try the new, cozy italian restaurant that had opened downtown, the one you’d mentioned wanting to visit after a neighborhood watch meeting one night. it was intimate . . . romantic. toji walked home with a lightness in his step, an unfamiliar flutter in his gut. he was in trouble, he knew he was. you were trouble in ways he hadn't encountered before. you made him feel too much.
more than he ever had.
but he was in too deep to back out now. all he could do was try to keep a clear head, keep things casual and platonic. be your friend and supporter, nothing more. his life, his job . . there was no room for complications.
even if he was beginning to suspect it was already far too late.
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the days leading up to friday passed in a blur of anticipation and nerves, though toji did his best to ignore both. ‘it isn’t a date. she’s not into you. this isnt a fuckin’ date . . .’ he reminded himself sternly, no matter how much his idiot heart wanted to pretend otherwise. just dinner between neighbors. a thank you for your tireless taste testing efforts. nothing to get all hot n’ bothered about.
so then why the fuck had he changed outfits half a dozen times before settling on the nicest button-down he owned and a new pair of dark wash jeans? why had he agonized over whether to bring flowers or wine or both . . again? this was so embarrassing. he was so embarrassing. he’d think being married once would've meant he had at least a little bit of game . . but nope - he had nothing.
taking a deep breath, he knocked on your door at precisely 7pm. when it swung open to reveal you, his lungs almost stopped in their tracks. you looked no less than stunning in a ruffled dress, in the pretty shade of baby-pink, your hair tumbling over your bare shoulders - half up, half down and bumped at the ends. a slim gold chain nestled in the hollow of your throat, shamefully drawing his eyes down to the swells of your titties.
“fuck . .” he said inanely, tongue suddenly clumsy in his mouth. “m’ so sorry. forgive me, i mean, you look . . absolutely amazing.”
a shy smile curved your lips, brightening your whole face up. “thanks . . so do you, toji.” your eyes skimmed over him appreciatively and he fought the urge to preen.
“o-oh, these are for you.” he thrusts the slightly wilted grocery store bouquet at you, wincing inwardly at his own awkwardness.
but you just smile, cradling the limp blooms like they were something so precious. “how sweet of you! i love daisies. lemme’ jus’ put these in some water and we can go.” you disappeared into the kitchen, leaving him to marvel at how such a simple gesture could delight you so thoroughly. damn, you were so lovely. inside and out.
the drive to the restaurant was filled with easy conversation interspersed with comfortable silences. toji let you be in control of the radio, secretly charmed by your off-key humming to the cheesy pop songs in rotation on your playlist. he could imagine countless nights like this, aimless drives with no destination in mind, just content to be in your company with no one to bother.
and dinner was a laughter-filled affair, trading bites of pasta and garlicky bread, arguing playfully over the merits of various desserts. you entertained him with customer service horror stories from your barista days, confessing your penchant for ‘accidentally’ giving rude patrons decaf.
in turn, toji found himself sharing more than he usually did - funny anecdotes about his buddies at the firehouse, his worries about his little sister starting college in the fall, even a bit about his dad. the words came without effort, drawn out by your natural warmth and empathy.
he couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed anyone's company so effortlessly.
when the check came, he wouldn't let you even reach for it. you rolled your eyes but allowed him to pay, primly informing him you were getting the next one. his stomach flipped at the unthinking promise of a next time.
you then lingered over coffee and dessert - the restaurant's version didn't even hold a candle to your black forest verrines, but you were too polite to say so - neither wanting the evening to end. toji watched you lick chocolate from your spoon, entranced by the tiny pink flash of your tongue. wishing he could lean in and taste the sweetness of your mouth. a pleasant shiver chased over his skin, heat simmering low in his belly. he’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted you - this maddening mix of tender and carnal, the urge to both protect and possess.
“mmm,” you purred appreciatively, pulling the spoon from your mouth with an obscene pop. “whoever said that chocolate isn’t better than sex clearly hadn't tasted chocolate like this.”
toji swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing convulsively in his throat. “playin’ with fire are we?” he manages to rasp, fingers clenching around his mug.
you placed the spoon delicately on your empty plate, fingers lingering just long enough to draw his attention to their graceful dance. “who says i’m playin’, handsome?” you quip.
he was so fucked. so. totally. fucked.
afterwards, he walked you to your door, hands shoved deeply n’ awkwardly into his pockets to keep from doing something stupid like reaching for your hand. you then hovered on the stoop, the sultry summer night pressing in close.
“i had fun tonight,” you softly. in the light spilling from your living room window, your eyes were luminous. hopeful. “we should really do it again sometime.”
“we should,” he agreed, mouth dry. he couldn't look away from your face, tracing the delicate arch of your brows, the dark feathering of your lashes. you swayed closer, tipping your face up to his, and his heartbeat kicked into overdrive. god, you were killing him.
it took every ounce of willpower to step back, to force a chuckle past the ache in his chest. “well i should let you get your beauty sleep. early start tomorrow, right?” your smile faltered, a brief tightening around your eyes hinting at disappointment. he almost caved right then, almost said to hell with his reservations and dragged you into his arms the way he'd been dying to do all night.
but he couldn't. not when he had nothing more to offer you than heartache.
“right,” you murmured. “beauty sleep. so important for . . . baking.” you fumbled for your keys, not quite meeting his gaze. “i’ll see you round’ then.” he could only watch you retreat into the house, torn between relief at the bullet dodged and an overwhelming sense of loss.
wearily, he turned to go back to his own quiet home. he’d done the right thing. the smart thing. so why did it feel so damnably hollow?
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avoidance was the order of the day after that near-miss. though it pained him, toji forced himself to keep some distance, to not make up flimsy excuses to show up on your doorstep at all hours of the night. no more dessert development sessions, no matter how much he craved the sight of you gushing and twirling over your latest creations. no more cute, little dinners with furtive hand holding under the table.
he threw himself into work with even more zeal than usual, pulling extra shifts and helping out with the neverending station chores. if the guys ribbed him about his sudden devotion to alphabetizing the equipment room or polishing the engine to a blinding shine, he shrugged it off. it was loads better than going home to an empty house haunted by what-ifs.
he ached to see you though. sometimes he'd catch a glimpse of you catering to your garden or heading off to the market, and his fingers would itch with the urge to go to you, to close the seemingly unbridgeable gap between you both with long strides and strong arms. more than once he'd picked up his phone to call you, thumb hesitating over your smiling face in his contacts until he cursed and tossed the phone aside.
it was for the best, he told himself firmly. you had your whole life ahead of you - school and internships, building your dream from the ground up. he’d only get in the way, bog you down with his everlasting issues and cynicism. he wouldn't, couldn't be the dead weight holding you back.
even if letting you go felt like tearing himself in half.
he should've known you wouldn't let him slink away so easily. that for all your sweetness, you were just as stubborn as he was. you’d never been one to give up on the things - or people - you wanted.
which bring us to now . . you ambushing him on his way home from a grueling 48-hour shift, looking unfairly pretty and indignant as you marched across the street to plant yourself in front of his truck. he barely bit back a groan, exhaustion and longing a potent cocktail in his bloodstream.
“hey, stranger,” you said archly, fine brows drawn together in a scowl. “long time no annoy.”
he cut the engine and climbed out, suddenly self-conscious about his unwashed, smoke-saturated state. “hi, yn. how’s it going?”
“ah, y’know. jus’ workin’ myself to the bone, trying to perfect this dessert that's only the culmination of my entire academic career thus far. while also attempting to figure out how i mysteriously pissed off my friend to the point of complete radio silence.” your arms crossed over your chest, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes, “so yeah . . the usual.”
guilt lodged under his breastbone, sharp and corroding. he’d never meant to upset you, to make you think any of this was at all your fault. “shit, yn. i’m sorry . . i didn’t mean to ignore you, i’ve just been so -”
“busy . .” you finished for him, mouth flattening. “mhm, i’ve noticed. so busy you ignored all my calls n’ texts - missed our dinner the other night too. you’ve been practically living at the station lately.”
he grimaced, one hand scrubbing over his stubbled jaw. he’d never been any good with words, with making excuses. especially when faced with eyes that seemed to see right through his every defense, “you’re right. i’ve been avoiding you. but not because of anything you did. i jus’ . . needed some space to clear my head.”
your arms tightened, gaze dropping to the oil-stained pavement. “i thought we were having fun,” you said quietly. “gettin’ to know each other. but if i misread things, if i made you uncomfortable in any way i really am so sorr . . .”
“no.” he interrupted fiercely, taking an involuntary step closer. close enough to smell the light, citrusy scent of you, to see the faint mascara smudges of sleeplessness under your eyes. “you didn't misread anything, yn. these past weeks, spendin’ time with you . . . s’ been amazing. the most fun i’ve had in years, if i’m being honest.”
confusion clouded your expression. “then why?”
“because m’ a goddamn mess,” he bit out, the truth clawing its way up his throat. “because you’re brilliant, and you’re goin’ places . . n’ i wouldn’t be able to give you my time in the way that i know you more than deserve. i wanna smell muffins in the mornin’ . . not the smell of musty men and water hoses.”
he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before sitting his stuff on the hood of his car, “i jus’,” he started, “i’ve done the dating thing, alright? the marriage thing too, y’know that. i jus’ . . i cant afford to lose another person in my life that i care about — not when i’ve come this far to prevent it n’ when they’re as sweet and pretty, and as kind as you.” you stand in silence, letting him vent, “i’m not perfect. m’ terrible at cooking, i sing in the shower, n’ on top of all that i fuckin’ snore like a grizzly bear. ya’ still want me now?”
you took a step forward, hand coming up to fist in the front of his t-shirt. he inhaled sharply at the sudden press of your soft curves against his hard planes, the way your gaze dropped to his mouth.
“yeah, you grumpy old fuck . . i still want you,” you whispered fiercely. “mess, snores and all.”
he softened as you pressed a kiss onto his cheek, gentle and warm with truce, “i have my own damn baggage. y’think thats stoppin’ me from goin’ after what i want? no. so jus’ stop bein’ such an asshole n’ kiss me alread - mmph!” — that was it. that was the straw that’d broken the camel’s back. with a muttered curse, his control had finally snapped. he hauled you flush against him, one arm banding around your waist as the other hand sank into your hair, cradling the back of your head. you made a soft, needy sound and surged up on tiptoe, sealing your mouth to his.
the first touch of your lips was electric, a livewire straight to his core. they were exactly as soft and sweet as he'd imagined, moving over his with an urgency that matched his own. he angled his head to slant his mouth more firmly over your, licking at the seam of your lips as you licked on the scar on his.
he swept his tongue into your mouth, stroking over yours, swallowing the low moan that vibrated in her throat. you tasted like peppermint and the vaguest hint of sugar, an addictive flavor he already knew he'd never get enough of. your arms twined around his neck, blunt nails scraping deliciously at his nape as you pressed impossibly closer.
dimly, he registered the whoops and catcalls of a passing group of neighbors, but he couldn't bring himself to care. let em’ gawk. the whole damn neighborhood could come out to watch and he still wouldn't be able to tear himself away from your sweetness.
he was a man possessed.
the kiss deepened, turning hot and hungry. toji backed you up against his front door, hands roaming greedily over your curves as he pressed the hard length of his body into your soft warmth. you made yet another sound into his mouth, lifting one leg to wrap around his hip, opening yourself up to him.
he tore his lips from yours only to trail open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, tasting the salt on your skin from the sweat of the hot summer sun. “fuck . . i want you,” he growled against your pulse point. “wanna’ touch you, taste you, feel you. if you’ll let me . . of course.”
“wow, such a gentlemen,” you gasped, hands scrabbling at his shoulders. “please fuckin’ do, toji.” patience fraying, he fumbled for his keys and somehow managed to get the door open without releasing you. you stumbled over the threshold, shedding clothes haphazardly between searing kisses - your flimsy blouse fluttering to the floor, followed by smoke stained his t-shirt.
toji walked you backwards down the hall to his bedroom, kicking the door shut before tossing you onto the bed. he followed you down, covering your entire frame with his own, reveling in the feel of all your bare skin finally against him. you were a vision in the spill of afternoon light, curls fanned across his pillow, pink lace bra and panties a tantalizing contrast to your brown skin.
he took a moment just to admire you, committing every detail to memory. the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted on shallow breaths. heavy-lidded eyes hazy with want and something deeper, more tender.
“been dreamin’ about you, princess. shit - you’re so gorgeous.” he rasped, nipping at your earlobe with each word, “so pretty, so beautiful, so smart.”
you shivered, fingernails raking over his shoulders, “nngh - c’mon stoppit, toji . .” growling low in his throat, he captured your lips in a nasty kiss, all teeth and tongue. large hands cupping your full titties, calloused thumbs rubbing your nipples into stiff peaks. and you arched into his touch with a moan, shameless in your pleasure.
“someone’s eager, hm?”
breaking the kiss, he began to work his way down your body, mapping every dip and curve with lips and teeth and tongue. he paid thorough attention to your titties, laving at the dark-brown nipples until you were panting and squirming beneath him.
“b-baby, please . .” you whimpered, fingers sinking into his hair to urge him lower.
he only chuckled darkly against your flesh. “patience, sweetheart. m’ not goin’ anywhere. let me love you.”
true to his word, he set about exploring you - kissing a meandering path down your ribs and belly, dipping his tongue into your navel just to hear you gasp. strong hands gripped your thighs, pushing them further and further apart so he could settle more comfortably between them.
hooking his fingers in your lacy panties, he dragged the scrap of fabric down your legs. “fuck yeah, look at you. so wet for me already. look at this pussy . .”
you mewled as he licked a broad stripe up your slit, circling your puffy clit with the tip of his tongue. he sealed his lips around the sensitive nub and sucked, fingers delving into your soaked entrance, curling to find that special spot inside you.
“o-ooh my god — yes!” your back bowed off the bed, a vibration spreading down your chest as he worked you higher. he paid close attention to your most tender skin, alternating between broad, flat licks and quick, targeted flicks. crooking his fingers just so, he rubbed and rubbed until he found — “ah f-fuck!” your g-spot, feeling your thighs start to tremble around his head.
“thas’ it, bunny - cum on my tongue. i wanna’ see it all, mama. c’mon, i know you can do it,” the filthy words combined with the relentless stimulation quite literally pushed you over the edge . . and you came with a sharp cry, gushing your juices all over his lips and chin. he groaned at the taste of you, lapping up every last drop, addicted already.
while you were still quivering and coming down from your high, toji fumbled blindly for the nightstand drawer. he managed to retrieve a condom without taking his eyes off of you. ripping open the packet with his teeth, he sat back on his knees to quickly sheath himself.
you took the opportunity to admire his body, running appreciative hands over his muscular chest and abdomen. he was all tanned skin and chiseled muscle, a sparse trail of dark hair pointing the way to his impressive erection. it jutted from a thatch of coarse curls, thick and flushed nearly purple, the bulbous head glistening with excitement.
wrapping your fingers around his rigid length, you stroked him base to tip, twisting your wrist on the upstroke so that the condom slips right back off. toji grunted, hips bucking into your touch as you rubbed your thumb over the leaking slit. you pause, your mouth watering as you begin to lower your head down. you press the side of your face against his thigh, peering up at him with batting lashes and a poked lip. your ass is arched - high in the air and wiggling as if you just wanted him to smack it.
that’s when you began slapping his heavy dick against your cheek, repeatedly, “so big, baby,” you whisper, now positioning your face to where his cock could sit right on top of it - “can i put it in m’mouth? please . .?”
“yn you don’t have to -”
“i want to.”
toji looked down at you once more, the look of want in your eyes . . . how could he resist?
he gently grabs the side of your neck, firm but not firm enough to cause pain, his other hand curling around the base of his cock as he whispered, “open wide. tongue out,” biting his lip as he braces himself for the sensation of your mouth wrapped around him.
that’s when your wet tongue dances out tentatively, tracing the ridge of his head before retreating back to safety inside your mouth. it was clear that you were just as lust filled as him. toji could feel himself pulsing with need as you took him in deeper and deeper, a low groan escaping him, “shit, doll - got it all to fit . . good girl.” your hands gripped his hips tightly, nails digging into his skin as you bobbed your head up and down. toji swore he could fall in love with the simple, yet beautifully disgusting sound of your throat — gawk, gulp, gawk! ugh, they were such disgusting noises - some gagging here, some moaning there, but he couldn’t have asked for anything better. you were slobbing, spitting, and choking on his dick and the only thing getting in your way from taking him whole was the fact that his size was still fairly new to you.
“sss’ ooh fuck - b-baby . . yn -” he hisses, both your eyes and his rolling to the back of your heads as you continue to gulp him down, spit trickling down to your tits as they jiggled to the rhythm of your mouth. each and every glide against your tongue was starting to overpower him, and before he knew it, if you didn’t stop he was bout’ to —
“cum . . m’gonna cum! m’fuckin’ cumming - asshhit . .” he groaned, eyes tightly closing as you continued to deepthroat him the best you could, “don’t stop, keep suck - y-yes . .” it was a hassle - a big one, but the taste of him warm cum painting your throat felt like a sweet reward.
almost sweeter than your baked goods.
whining and still aching to suck on him some more, toji pulls you off in fear of shaking more than he already was — and the sight of you with his cum dripping out of your mouth only did the complete opposite.
“uh, well then . . how’d i do?” you say shyly, as if you hadn’t just completely slutted out your mouth for your next door neighbor.
a surprised bark of laughter escaped him even as his cock jerked at you eagerly. “don’t exile me, but that mouth . . shit, might be better than your cookies. not gonna’ lie, sweetheart . .” toji growled, and you pout as he’s prowling back over you. you then watch him slowly, his fingers unexpectedly plunging back into your pussy as he scoops some of your wetness onto the pad of them before pulling them back out. he fists the base and tip of himself, smothering his cock in your juices as lubricant as he teases your entrance with a few pats n’ nudges. fuckin’ tease. he kept on until you were angrily swatting his chest to put the damn thing in already.
who could blame your lust? after all . . you’d been dreaming about it for weeks now.
yet again, he snags another rubber, strokes a little, and once he’s in, “oh s-shit that pussy's tight, baby . .” he’s in. you moaned in tandem, dick snuggling into your tight walls inch by excruciating inch. you were warm and wet and perfect around him, gripping him like a silken vise. it was magical, just like you - but the look on your face . . oh that look, almost seemed like you wanted to be broken. with your arms above your head, your titties swaying against your chest and your whines now hoarse n' pleading — he kinda wanted to break you too.
toji started with slow, deep strokes, mindful of your tightness and his considerable girth. he didn't want to hurt you, wanted to savor every clench and flutter around his aching cock. wanted this to last, to burn this moment into his brain forever.
“f-feel so fuckin' good wrapped around me,” he gritted out, hips rolling in a lazy figure eight that had you keening. “y’so wet, honey . . dick feel that good?”
“toji,” you whimpered brokenly, fingernails scoring down his flexing back. “more, please . . need it harder . .”
and how could he deny you anything when you begged so sweetly? bracing his weight on his forearms, he obliged, snapping his hips forward with more force. the headboard started to thump against the wall, the mattress creaking beneath your writhing bodies.
“like that, baby? hm?” he panted against your throat, sweat beading at his temples as he drove into you again and again, his cock damn near slipping out of you from the slippery speed. “this what you need? me splittin' this pretty pussy open?”
“yes d-daddy . . ” you wailed, back arching like a drawn bow. your cunt was fluttering around him, a telltale sign of your impending orgasm. “aah - don't stop, don’t stop, m'so close!”
“shh, i got you,” he promised, shifting the angle of his hips to grind against your clit with every thrust. “gonna’ make this pussy sing for me, gonna’ wring the cum outta’ you 'til you're shakin' on me. you want that?” his filthy words seemed to be your undoing because suddenly you were clenching down on him like a vice, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as you thrashed beneath him. your release gushed hot and slick around his pistoning length, drenching his groin and thighs with sweetness.
“f-fuck yeah,” toji choked out, his own rhythm faltering as your rippling walls threatened to milk him dry. “good girl, sweetheart, cream on this dick, lemme’ feel you.” he managed a handful more erratic thrusts before his own orgasm crashed into him like a freight train. he buried himself to the hilt and stilled, a hoarse shout muffled into your sweat damped shoulder as he spilled himself into the condom. his cock jerked and twitched with every pulse, vision nearly whiting out with the force of it.
for long moments, you both just shook and gasped, clinging to each other as aftershocks rolled through your bodies. toji's heart was thundering so hard he was sure you could feel it through his sweat-slick chest. he'd never come so hard in his life, never felt so utterly shattered and remade.
you made a soft, satisfied sound as he carefully withdrew from your heat, rolling to the side to dispose of the condom with a quick knot. then he was gathering you close again, palm smoothing up your spine as you burrowed into him with a sigh.
“shit,” you eventually mumbled into the heated skin of his throat. “that was . . .”
“ . . fuckin' heavenly,” he finished roughly, a laugh rumbling in his chest as he felt your answering huff of amusement. “m’ sorry i uh . . came so fast. i don’t usually -”
“did you just apologize to me because my pussy is good?” you teased, dragging your nose along the edge of his stubbled jaw. he could feel the curve of your smile, the unabashed joy, and it settled something deep within him. soothed the ragged pieces he'd thought long broken.
“damn straight,” he agreed, arms tightening around you possessively. “i can die a happy man now.”
“well, you're not allowed to die on me now, toji. you're stuck with me. escape if you can.”
“mm, is that right,” he nuzzled into your hair, breathing in the scent of you - all warm woman and satisfaction.
“mhmm. you're not getting rid of me easily. i still have so many desserts to force on you, so many early morning baking sessions to drag you into . .”
he laughed outright at that, at the sheer exuberance in your voice. “promises, promises.”
“oh i always keep my promises, mister. which reminds me . .” you pushed up on an elbow, eyes sparkling with mischief and something deeper. something that snatched the breath from his lungs. “i seem to remember you saying something about round two . .”
“did i? care to refresh my memory?” he growled, even as he was already rolling you beneath him again, mouth seeking yours. you then feel his palm colliding with your ass in a gentle spank. “what am i gonna’ do with you?”
“everything.” you breathed against his lips, a vow. “anything. i want you, toji. want everything with you.” and fuck, what could he say to that? what could he do but kiss you like a promise, a prayer, and proceed to show you just how much he wanted that too? wanted to give you everything, anything, all he had to offer?
he'd never been a man of many words. but this - loving you with hands and mouth and body, breaking you apart and putting you back together again and again until you were both sweat-soaked and shaking . . this he could do. this he would do for the rest of his life if you'd let him.
“you’ve got me.”
and from the joyous half-sob of his name as he sank back into your pussy, the way your body opened for him like a flower to the sun, he had a feeling you just might too.
there would be time for more words later - time for confessions and plans and mapping out a future he'd never even let himself dream of before. time to make good on promises whispered into heated skin, to build something real and lasting brick by brick. but for now, in the honeyed afternoon light with your legs wrapped around his waist and your heart in his hands . . let himself get lost. let himself drown in sensation and emotion, in this miraculous woman he didn't deserve but who'd chosen him anyway.
from lost to found, in the space of a heartbeat. and all because an angel in a garden had smiled at him across a sunny street and offered up a little piece of heaven. he'd never know what he'd done to deserve you, or this second chance. but he'd spend the rest of his days earning this gift, cherishing it.
cherishing you.
that was a promise. and like his beautiful girl . . toji fushiguro always kept his promises.
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©️ SATORUBI - please do not copy, translate, or modify my work without my approval ! thank you for playing . . the challenge has only just begun.
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luviestarz · 1 year ago
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lee haechan fic recs!
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❤︎ I LIKE YOU (I DO) (L.DH) - @domjaehyun (stoner!haechan just wants you to know how much he likes you.)
❤︎ paperclip - @smileysuh (yandere, ex bf! hyuck)
❤︎ My Boy. - @prodbymaui (A series of failed relationships and you were this near of giving up on love. But then here comes little Donghyuck and his persistence. Maybe-- he was the one fated to you, after all.)
❤︎ kiss it better - @yeow6n (haechan gets hurt but you know that with him it’s not going to be as simple as putting a band-aid on it)
❤︎ sugar, butter, & the royal crown - L.DH - @haechwrites (prince donghyuck only has one princess on his mind, but she's not actually a princess. she's just the royal baker's granddaughter.)
❤︎ bus stop - @ooshu (haechan rides the bus. you hop on the same ride. minutes later, you two were a couple. he never questioned why.)
❤︎ strawberries & cigarettes - @hyudior (the art school's play is in two days and you're running out of time to put everything together since your known enemy lee donghyuck decided that the rehearsal day was the perfect day to release a launch party for his new album.)
❤︎ >> take my breath - @hyuckwrlds
❤︎ moles ♡‧₊˚ lee haechan - @sleeping-sirens (you read something on the internet that made you feel jealous of a person you didn’t even know but haechan knows just how to reassure you.)
❤︎ haechan — gold-skinned, eager baby - @hyuckmov (he used to be able to hide it. he used to be fine with glancing at you, habitually flicking his eyes to your chest when you would walk into the room or snuggle up to him. but now he’s totally fucked, because he thinks he’s developed some sort of addiction.)
❤︎ eyes tell - @tonicandjins (donghyuck has been trying to confess his feelings to you. third time's the charm, he thinks.)
❤︎ going below zero | l.dh - @cherryeoniis (Considering how much Haechan makes it his personal mission to antagonize you at work, it seems like a rather cruel twist of fate that the both of you have been side by side since middle school, the only consolation being that his office is a different floor from yours. But if there’s a saying about how distance makes the heart grow fonder, your attitude with him might just be the opposite, and it’ll take a family ski holiday to find out.)
❤︎ take my breath. - @sixzeroes (lee donghyuck did not believe in ‘love at first sight.’ key word: did. he does now, but only because you happened to fall into his arms on the icy road in the narrow streets. you’re going to render him breathless from the countless times your smile takes his breath away.)
❤︎ ice cream thief [ l.dh ] - @tddyhyck (someone has been eating haechan's favorite ice cream so he decides to put a hidden camera in the kitchen and living room thinking it's a shared space it shouldn't invade anyone's privacy... right?)
❤︎ tease | lee haechan - @hyuckiefluff (Playing spin the bottle definitely wasn't what you had envisioned for your first college party. And the last person you expected to see was Lee Haechan. But life has a funny way of throwing surprises at you, and this time it came in the form of the bottle landing on some drunk dude who dared you to kiss Haechan.)
❤︎ 𝟏𝟎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐈 ��𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ¹⁸⁺ - @goldyeokki (you and lee donghyuck both get along like oil and water. if it were up to you, you would be going about your days without even breathing in his direction. unfortunately you're in the same friend group and you have to tolerate each other. as handsome or attractive as people claim him to be, you hate his guts. there's so many reasons why you hate him, so why do you get butterflies in your stomach when he's near?)
❤︎ high (with my lover) [m] – l.dh - @yeonghosins (y/n smokes up with donghyuck for the first time)
❤︎ what the puck! - @choerrypuffs (you hit the university’s star hockey player with your car. shenanigans (and maybe even a little romance) ensue.)
❤︎ double take | l.dh - @cherryeoniis (friends to lovers, highschool au, slowburn, fluff, angst)
❤︎ Your Red Lipstick || L.DH - @ihaechans (Kisses, kisses, kisses. That’s all your boyfriend wants. When you refuse to give him the one thing he craves, he won’t leave you alone, begging and begging until you give in.)
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yearningagain · 5 months ago
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it's enough (to make a girl blush)
HIIII EVERYONE so you know that fic i was asking for a beta reader for?? well i found one!! and i'd like to present the first chapter of it's enough (to make a girl blush), my first SERIOUS fic that i 100% intend on finishing!!
i'd like to thank the amazing @kayleeofcamelot for being my lovely beta reader <3
also on AO3!
wc: 1.1k | rating: e (18+) | pairing: steddie | cw: none | tags: a/b/o, alpha eddie munson, omega steve harrington, modern au, baker steve, famous eddie, getting together, gay eddie, bi steve, soulmates/true mates/scent mates, side buckingham
part two | part three
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"God, fuck- alpha, please ..." Steve begs, sat upon a man's toned, yet lean thigh, grinding and rutting against it as he chased his high. The man chuckled darkly, his hands coming to grip Steve's hips, tight enough that Steve knows there will be bruises, guiding him along roughly.
With barely open eyes, he managed to peek at the hands that would surely leave marks come morning. Dark tendrils of tattoos that stretched from the man’s second knuckle and up his arms. Fingertips calloused and dexterous, nails bitten and paint chipped, and almost every finger has more than two silver rings adorning it, save for his right hands ring finger. No, that finger holds only one ring. An aged, loved, golden band with three small red crystals set in a line.
Small gasps left Steve's lips, every roll of the omega’s hips pressed his cocklette deliciously against the fabric of the omega's thin shorts. Both pants had surely been ruined by the amount of slick that poured out of him, but he couldn't make himself feel bad about it, even if he tried. Something inside him, his omega , told him that the alpha was having just as much fun as he was.
"Ah- ‘M close, alpha..." Steve pants, head feeling pleasantly fuzzy. He could smell how his own scent had changed, the spiced apple scent turning into something heady and thick. Suddenly, he got hit with the most divine scent in the world. Campfire smoke and pine, a hint of petrichor and old books. Home- a whispered thought. It almost sent him over the edge.
Almost.
Then, all of a sudden, everything felt wrong . It was as if he was floating away from his body, his mind a balloon escaping a child's loose clutch. He couldn't smell the alpha, just his own scent turning sour and rotten. The cool sensation of the man's rings where they pressed into bare skin suddenly spread all over, no longer comforting, but as if ice water had engulfed him. Something nagged at him, though, in the back of his mind. Something like a spark, settling into the omega and igniting coals to keep him warm and happy.
And Steve opened his eyes.
Steve glared at himself in the mirror, bare in preparation for a shower. There were no marks, no evidence of anything happening. One more glance over his entire body confirmed that there was nothing left of the alpha. It was a simple wet dream. The only thing that kept him from dismissing the dream entirely was his strong disappointment when he woke up alone, and the low thrum of energy he could feel stemming from his inner omega. (And the slick-soaked sheets he'd have to deal with later.) If he focused hard enough, he could almost hear the whispering rumble of "Mate. Alpha. Mate. Alpha."
He shook himself from his stupor and hopped in the shower. What did it mean, this newfound warmth over someone he'd apparently made up in his mind? Was he really that lonely? No, of course not. 
(Yes. He was.)
After turning over question after question in his mind only to come up blank, he sighed. He'd have to talk to Robin about this. 
Reluctantly set in his decision, he got out of the shower and patted himself dry, threw his hair up in a towel, and put on a fresh pair of sweats. Throwing a glance at his alarm clock, it read 9:57 AM . Robin should be awake by now, hunched over their dinky coffee machine with her eyes still closed and dried drool on her chin. 
It was Sunday, so Robin didn't have class and the bakery Steve worked at, Claudia's Cakes , was closed for the day. He figured he could take her out to lunch. Maybe the deli two doors down from the bakery? He had been having a craving for their Cubano recently. 
Stepping out of his room and shuffling to the kitchen, Steve found Robin exactly like he thought, arms braced on the counter to pillow her resting head. The coffee machine gurgled away, the strong scent mingling with Robin’s earthy strawberry aroma.
"Morning, Robs."
A small groan is all he got in response. He chuckled softly and fetched the sugar and creamer, setting it on the counter next to his best friend's birds nest of bed head. Taking his place at their table, he opened up his phone to check his messages (mostly from Dustin talking about some band he found online).  Soon, Robin slumped into the chair across from him, a mug of coffee placed in front of him as she sipped on her own. Now that she was actually awake, she looked at him with a curious expression.
"What? Do I have something on my face?" Steve asked her.
She hummed, taking a calculating look. "No, nothing on your face. You just... you smell different. Not bad different! Just different, like instead of cinnamon apple cake, you smell like roasted apples. And honey? What's up with that?" 
Steve is surprised she doesn't spill her coffee all over the place with how she flings her arms around, emphasizing her question with a pointed finger and finally slamming her mug down.
"I don't know, dude.” Another glare from her. "I really don't! Anyways, did you want to grab lunch at the deli today? My treat."
Sighing and giving him one last glare, she shrugged. "Yeah, sure. I’ve been meaning to stop by the record store, could we swing by on the way back?”
Steve threw a pointed glance to their overflowing record crate below their old record player, a housewarming gift from Robin’s mom. She huffed in response, crossing her arms and mumbled “I just want to look.”
Crimson painted her cheeks and she avoided his gaze, which was all Steve needed to know. He knew Robin had made a friend (or crush rather) in her music theory class at UIC, and she and Steve were basically some sort of cosmic twins, and he knew all of her tells. So when he asked if he’s finally going to meet her, she really shouldn’t be that surprised. She still looked up at him with wide eyes, dropping her arms to the table. Another pointed look from Steve and she relented, “She told me to stop in when I could because she wants to show me this really cool limited edition vinyl the store got in recently and she looked so pretty when she asked, Steve. She had these pigtails and she was wearing this eyeshadow that made her eyes pop and she was wearing the skirt I told you about, the one with the hearts? Yeah, that one! And her sweater was, like, four sizes too big and she looked tiny! Anyways, how could I possibly say no when she looks like that?! She batted her eyelashes at me, Steve. Don’t give me that look.”
The omega simply sighed, shook his head fondly, and stood up. 
“Be ready in an hour, Buckley.”
223 notes · View notes
bangchansdirty-slut · 11 months ago
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"Would you like another one?"
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Paring: Baker!Felix x Bottom!Male reader
Genre: Smut
Summary: Brownie Boy decides to put a little something inside a brownie he made just for you so he can get a special ingredient for his frosting.
More: Masterlist
A/n: I wrote this half-awake today. Also, should I make a fem version of this? Anyways enjoy! And requests are opened.
M/n stepped into the dimly lit bakery, the smell of freshly baked pastries filling the air. It was well past closing time, but Felix, M/n's best friend and the baker extraordinaire, had left a light on for him. The two of them shared a special bond, one that transcended mere friendship; they were practically inseparable. M/n wove through the empty tables, the chairs on top of them, and the counters covered in neatly stacked bowls of freshly whipped cream and sprinkles. He rounded the corner to find Felix in the back, his hands covered in flour, his face beet red from the heat of the oven.
"Hey, Felix," M/n called out, setting his bag down on the counter. "You know you could've just texted me to come back later."
Felix laughed, wiping his flour-covered hands on his apron. "Oh, you know me, M/n. I always like to see you." He glanced at the clock, then back at M/n. "But since you're here, why don't you help me with these cupcakes? I made an extra-large batch today, and I could use an extra pair of hands."
M/n nodded, stepping up to the counter. He loved helping Felix in the kitchen; it always made him feel so… useful. Together, they worked in companionable silence, piping icing onto the cupcakes and decorating them with sprinkles. After a few minutes, Felix paused and leaned in close. "You know," he whispered, "I made a special brownie just for you."
M/n's stomach growled at the mention of brownies. "You did?" Felix grinned, handing him the pan. "Go ahead, take it. I already put it in the oven, so it should be nice and warm."
As M/n carried the pan over to the oven, he felt a surge of warmth in his chest. It wasn't just from the heat of the oven; it was the thoughtfulness behind Felix's gesture. He set the pan on the counter, taking a deep breath in anticipation of the first bite. He glanced over at Felix, who was carefully icing one of the cupcakes, and found himself wondering how long it had been since they'd had a night like this, just the two of them.
Time seemed to slow down as he took a bite of the brownie. The chocolate was rich and fudgy, the walnuts providing a pleasant crunch against his teeth. But it wasn't long before he felt a strange sensation washing over him. His cheeks flushed, his heart raced, and he found himself unable to meet Felix's gaze. "Um," he stammered, putting the half-eaten brownie down on the counter. "Felix, I think you put something in this brownie."
Felix laughed, walking over to stand behind M/n. "You mean the aphrodisiac?" he asked, his breath hot against M/n's ear. "Don't worry about it. It's all natural, and it'll make things more fun."
As the effects of the aphrodisiac continued to take hold, M/n found himself growing more and more uncomfortable. His heart raced, and he could feel a warmth building in his groin. "Felix," he said, his voice strained, "I don't feel so good."
Felix placed a reassuring hand on M/n's shoulder. "It's okay, M/n. Just relax. You're with me, and I won't let anything happen that you don't want." He guided M/n over to the counter and helped him sit down. "Now, just take deep breaths and try to calm down."
As M/n tried to steady his breath, Felix retrieved a bowl from the cupboard and placed it on the counter. "I'm going to help you feel better," Felix whispered, his voice low and soothing. He knelt down in front of M/n and gently urged him onto all fours. "Just like this."
M/n felt a mixture of embarrassment and arousal as he obeyed Felix's instructions. His heart raced, and he couldn't help but wonder what Felix was planning to do next. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Felix had retrieved a bottle of frosting from a drawer. "Felix?" he whimpered.
Felix smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, M/n. I'm just going to make sure you're comfortable. This will help." He dipped his fingers into the cupcake frosting onto his fingers before slowly, carefully parting M/n's cheeks. "Just try to relax and enjoy this."
As Felix's fingers traced circles around M/n's anus, his touch was surprisingly gentle. He started by just teasing the entrance, using his fingertips to spread the icing that was already there. Then, with a soft moan, he began to slowly push one finger inside. M/n let out a soft gasp, his body tensing up, but Felix continued to move in and out of him, careful not to go too deep or too fast.
With each thrust of his fingers, Felix pressed harder against the spot that made M/n squirm the most. It felt so good, but at the same time, it was almost too much. His hips bucked involuntarily against Felix's hand, begging for more contact. "Felix…" he moaned, his voice barely audible over the sound of their breathing.
As Felix's fingers expertly worked their magic, M/n couldn't help but notice the wet, sticky sensation that was starting to build between his legs. The aphrodisiac was doing its job, and his arousal was growing by the second. He could feel himself becoming more and more engorged, the head of his cock beginning to peek out from the folds of his foreskin.
Just when M/n thought he couldn't take any more, Felix withdrew his fingers and knelt down behind him. M/n felt the warmth of his breath against his sensitive skin before he felt the tip of Felix's tongue press against his entrance. With a soft, wet lick, Felix began to circle his tongue around M/n's opening, gradually easing deeper and deeper. M/n arched his back, moaning loudly as the sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through his body.
As Felix continued to tongue-fuck him, his hand found its way between their bodies, teasing and stroking M/n's engorged cock. He slowly began to jerk him off, matching the rhythm of his hand with the movements of his tongue. M/n felt like he was about to explode, the pleasure building inside him with each thrust of Felix's tongue and each stroke of his hand.
With a final, deep thrust, Felix pushed his tongue as far inside as it would go, and M/n felt the familiar tingle in his balls that signaled his impending orgasm. He let out a long, shuddering moan as his hips bucked wildly against Felix's hand. His cock jerked violently in Felix's grip, spewing hot cum across the palm of his hand and into the bowl with frosting in it beneath M/n. The release was intense, overwhelming, and blissful all at once.
As the last spurt of cum pulsed from his cock, Felix pulled his tongue away and licked his lips, looking pleased with himself. He reached over to the counter and picked up the bowl, holding it up for M/n to see. "There you go, M/n," he said with a grin. "Your special gift for me." He held up one of the cupcakes with the icing that had been mixed with M/n's cum and offered it to him. "Go on, eat it up."
Still catching his breath, M/n reached out and took the cupcake from Felix, his heart racing. He took a bite, savoring the sweet, salty flavor that was uniquely his. As he chewed, he felt a new wave of arousal begin to stir inside him. He looked up at Felix, who was watching him intently, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Felix smirked and grabbed another cupcake from the counter. He knelt down beside M/n once again and placed the cupcake between his legs, directly against his engorged cock. "Here, M/n," he purred, "why don't you finish yourself off with this?" He pressed the cupcake firmly against M/n's throbbing member, the icing already smeared with their combined essence.
M/n groaned, feeling the familiar pressure building inside him. He closed his eyes and reached down, using one hand to guide the cupcake against his cock. With a sharp thrust, he impaled himself on the cupcake, moaning loudly as the sensation sent shockwaves of pleasure through his body. His hips bucked wildly, fucking himself on the cupcake as he came, his cum splattering against the icing and coating both their hands.
Felix leaned in, capturing M/n's lips in a deep, passionate kiss. He could taste himself on M/n's tongue, the tangy flavor mixing with the sweetness of the cupcakes. As their tongues danced together, Felix reached down and stroked M/n's cock, milking the last drops of cum from him. He continued to kiss him, their bodies pressed tightly together, until they both collapsed in a heap on the floor, breathless and spent.
Slowly, Felix pulled away, his eyes trailing up and down M/n's naked form. "Mmm…that was quite the show, M/n," he purred. "You're quite the talented performer." He picked up the tray of cupcakes and held it out to him.
"Would you like another one?"
760 notes · View notes
kwanisms · 1 year ago
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🎄 Tales from Camp Holiday Special 05 🎄
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«« previous | masterlist | next »»
➮ chef!Mingyu × fem baker!Reader wc: 6.6k summary: Mingyu and his wife, Y/N, get a little dirty while closing up the bakery the night before Christmas Eve. genres/themes/au: nothing but fluff and smut; holiday themes; non idol au, chef au, baker au, married couple au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, established relationship, mentions of stressful work conditions, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist: @yoonguurt @wonw00t @aikisbbq @enhacolor @duchesskaren @sherituhhh @wonderfulshinee @gaebestie @drunk-on-dk @seokgyuu @salty-for-suga @aaniag @dnylwoo @1004luvangel join my taglists: main | TFC: Holiday Special closes when part 7 goes up! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.
a/n: i'm back with more foodplay! It plays a much bigger role this time lol Mingyu and MC are pretty nasty, going at it in their own business kitchen. This one was so fun to write, expanding on their dynamic and how they’ve grown since meeting at camp all those years ago. Now they’re married and the banter is adorable. I love their relationship. Thank you so much for reading and if you like this part, please reblog! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.
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smut warnings: unprotected sex (they're married but yall should use protection unless ur married too just, protect yourself lol) oral (m receiving), marking (m receiving), strength kink, size kink, bottom!Mingyu (but he's stronk boy), foodplay (frosting, whipped cream, cherries, etc), some light temperature play (ice; f receiving, m receiving), creampie (yum), dirty talk, begging kink, slight degradation (m receiving), it’s dirty, it’s filthy, they’re nasty lol
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Soft jazzy tunes floated through the air, drowned out by the chatter of customers as you headed back up to the front counter, a smile plastered on your face. Your cashier looked almost beside herself as she tried to get the terminal to work. “I’m here,” you said, drawing her attention. You could see the tears threatening to spill.
You felt your heart hurt for the poor girl. Amara was a hard worker but she’d never worked the holiday season with you at your bakery so she wasn’t prepared for the volume of orders, especially on Christmas Eve.
It was your fourth holiday season so you were falling into a practiced routine by this point. The rush, the influx of customers and orders, and of course, the Karens. Seeing as you were the owner of the establishment, you got to choose how to deal with these difficult customers as you saw fit.
The perks of being the boss.
Leaning in, you whispered in her ear. “Go into the back and take a break. I got this.” She nodded and thanked you, slipping past you and through the back door as you turned to greet the customer in front of you. “Sorry about that,” you said softly as you exited the program on the computer and rebooted it.
“It’s her first Christmas working with us,” you explained. “How can I help you?”
The man in front of you rolled his eyes and you could already tell what kind of interaction you were about to have. “Maybe this place should hire competent workers,” the man snapped angrily. You kept the smile on your face. “We do hire competent workers,” you replied. “But we’re all human and we all get overwhelmed and stressed from time to time.”
The man scoffed. “It’s unprofessional.”
The smile finally slipped from your face. “It’s unprofessional to be a human being?” you asked, a hint of confused annoyance to your voice. “It’s unprofessional to get emotional at work. It’s a place of business.” You narrowed your eyes. “And it’s childish to berate and scream and curse at an eighteen year old girl,” you snapped back, taking the man by surprise.
“How dare you speak to me like that,” he said indignantly, puffing up with an air of superiority. “I want to speak to your manager!” ‘Ah… the magic words,’ you thought to yourself, smiling inwardly. “I’m sorry, sir,” you replied. “The manager isn’t here right now.”
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Mingyu cursed to himself as he walked, tripping over the curb but thankfully didn’t fall. He continued to the back passenger door of his car, opening it before leaning down to grab the paper sacks, balancing them precariously in his arms as he attempted to close the door with his hip.
Only once it clicked shut and the car beeped, signaling it locked, did Mingyu walk away, heading down the sidewalk towards the bakery. He’d gone to grab some last minute supplies as you had run out of a few spices and some extracts. He’d also grabbed the stuff to whip up a pre-Christmas Eve dinner for you and your workers.
He cursed the busy sidewalk and businesses lining the street for making him park so far away and having to walk the rest of the way to the bakery. He knew the place was busy but he didn’t realize how busy it was going to be.
Upon reaching the bakery, he swore under his breath as he realized his hands were no longer free to open the door and let himself in. Lucky for him, a patron chose that exact moment to exit, their purchases in their hands. They held the door for him, allowing him to enter the establishment. Mingyu thanked them and hurried in where the crowd seemed to have doubled in size.
As he reached the counter, he set the bags down, opening the small door before grabbing the bags and moving to the back where he set them down, looking around. He caught the eye of one of your bakers and gestured at the bags. “Could you unload these for me. I’m gonna pop up front and help Y/N,”
The baker, Geoffrey, nodded and moved over to the table as Mingyu shrugged out of his coat, hung it up, and grabbed an apron, tying it on before heading out into the store front where he saw you standing at the register, arguing with an older man who was red in the face.
Mingyu walked over, ready to launch over the counter at the man who was currently shouting at his wife.
“What’s going on here?” Mingyu asked, announcing his arrival. The man looked up from you, giving Mingyu a once over. A smile of relief spread over your face. “Perfect,” you said. “Here’s the manager,” you said, turning back to the man and stepping away from the terminal to help the next guest while Mingyu took your place.
“What seems to be the problem, sir?” Mingyu asked, knowing before the man even spoke what he would be dealing with. It was a sort of code between the two of you, calling him the manager was just a way of setting up the rude customers to realize the consequences of their actions.
Most of the time, when Mingyu entered the equation, they would demand that you be fired for being incompetent or rude or refusing to give a discount. It often led to hilarity when Mingyu, keeping up with the charade, would insist he can’t do that before revealing that you were the owner.
Which is what he was prepared to do but he didn’t have the chance when the red-faced man spoke.
“I’ve never been treated so poorly in an establishment in all my life!” he shouted, drawing the attention of most of the customers, some who were already recording the exchange on their phones. “I’m friends with the owner! I should call him and tell him what an awful bunch of employees he’s allowing to run his business.
Mingyu kept the fake smile on his face. “Oh, you know the owner?” Mingyu asked, to which the man nodded, pulling his phone out. “I’ll call him right now!” he threatened. Mingyu shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he started, picking up the phone. “I’ve got the owner on speed dial,” he added, pushing a series of buttons. He waited for the first ring before handing the phone to the man.
“It’s ringing,” he said. “You can talk to the owner yourself.” The man snatched the phone and held it to his ear, grumbling about finally getting real service. Mingyu waited by the terminal, apologizing to the customers waiting patiently behind the man.
You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and apologized to the customer in front of you. She was a regular so she understood that when the boss’ phone rings, the boss had to answer it. You checked the screen and saw it was the number for the store calling you. Resisting the urge to smile, you excused yourself to the customer and swiped the green button, bringing the device to your ear.
“Hello?” you asked, glancing over to where Mingyu stood, giving you a devilish smile, the irate man holding your store phone to his ear. “Yeah,” the man snapped. “I want to speak to the owner of this bakery. Where is he?” Still fighting back that smile, you responded.
“Oh, that’s me. I’m the owner!”
The man looked up from the phone, turning his head to lock eyes with you. He then pulled the phone from his ear and looked at Mingyu. “What is this? She’s the one who was rude to me!” Mingyu took the phone from the man, hanging it up. “Yeah,” Mingyu replied. “She’s the owner. If you’re going to lie about knowing the owner, at least do your research about the place you’re trying to scam,” Mingyu said, looking up at the man, his smile now gone. “Also, you’re lucky I love my wife too much to cause a scene in her establishment. So either we can start over from the top and you can be nice or you can get out and never come back,” Mingyu said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“It’s your choice.”
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“Thank you, come again!” you called, waving as the last of the patrons exited and you walked over to flip the sign, turning the lock on the door and turned around to look at Mingyu who was counting the drawer. You walked over with a sigh, giving Amara a smile as she started to sweep.
“Thank you for handling that customer,” Amara said softly. “He reminded me of my dad and I just couldn’t…” she trailed off. You placed a comforting hand on her back. “It’s alright, Amara,” you told her. “I don’t deal with customers like that. I give them one chance to start over and if they don’t, they don’t get served. I’m not going to let customers walk all over me or my employees.”
“Babe,” Mingyu called, making you look in his direction. “Can you take over for me? I’m gonna get started on that dinner.” You nodded, moving around to the backside of the counter and over to the terminal. “Thank you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek and disappearing into the back.
You started counting, adding to his progress as Amara continued to sweep. She reached the counter and glanced at the door before leaning on the counter. “Miss Y/N?” she asked, making you look up with wide eyes. You hadn’t noticed she’d gotten so close. “Yes?”
“It might be a little personal but can I ask you something?” You nodded as you finished counting the drawer and shut the drawer, keeping the till in your hands. “What’s it like, being married to the nicest, most handsome guy in the world?”
You let out a laugh at her question. You weren’t laughing at her, just at the wording. “Don’t let Mingyu hear you say that,” you said softly. “It’ll fan his ego even more.” Amara smiled but waited for your answer all the same. “Being married to Mingyu is like having a massive, overly excited golden retriever but it can talk. He’s nice and always happy,” you explained.
“But he’s also clumsy, loyal, honest, and trustworthy,” you continued, shifting your weight to your other foot. “He’s a people pleaser,” you added. “Always wanting to help or be involved in some way, which is why he’s making dinner for the staff right now.” Amara’s smile widened.
“You really hit the jackpot, didn’t you?” she asked in a dreamy voice. You smiled, nodding. “I certainly did,” you replied, making your way over to the door to the back. “Taking the kitchen assistant position at summer camp when I was in culinary school was probably the best thing that ever happened to me.” Amara tilted her head. “Why’s that?” she asked.
“That’s where I met Mingyu.”
Amara went back to her sweeping while you entered the kitchen, eyes landing on your husband as he stood at the stove, a steaming saucepan on one of the back burners as he stirred something in a skillet. You tore your gaze from him, heading for the office instead to finish up your closing duties.
As you separate the cash transactions, resetting the drawer to its starting amount and putting the sales away in the safe. Shutting the door, you returned to your desk to finish up some paperwork you’d been putting off. As you were filing it away, you heard a knock on the door and looked up at one of your employees. “Hey, is it alright if I take off? My wife and the baby are waiting for me for Christmas Eve dinner and I really don’t wanna keep them waiting.” You smiled up at them.
“Sure, Candy,” you answered. “Make sure to take one of the extra pies on the counter. And tell Bethany I said hello,” you added. Candy smiled at you, thanking you as they headed back into the kitchen. You heard them call out a holiday parting to Mingyu who repeated the sentiment.
Getting up from the desk, you walked over to the door and peered into the kitchen. Mingyu was plating the finished food and looked up as you entered the kitchen. “Candy just left,” he announced, returning his gaze to his work. “I know,” you replied, walking over to where he stood.
“I told her to take one of the pies,” you added. Mingyu looked up at you before looking at the counter where the pies stood. “I hope they didn’t take the cherry one,” he pouted as he went back to his work. You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning against the counter.
“The cherry is already put away for us.” you replied, smiling when your husband looked up at you with excited eyes. He finished spooning sauce onto the food and returned the skillet to the stove. “So,” you started, looking down at the plates. There were four of them. “What have you made for us today, Chef?”
Mingyu moved back, standing in front of you, his hands landing on your hips. “I like it when you call me that,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. “Makes me feel all tingly.” You pushed him back playfully. “Alright, pervert,” you replied as Amara and one of your chefs, Finn, walked into the kitchen. “Dinner is served,” you said, narrowing your eyes at Mingyu.
“Tell them what you’ve made,” you added, turning to face Amara and Finn.
They were your two youngest employees. Amara was still in high school but wanted to become a pastry chef like you and Finn. Her parents were both successful in business and from what Amara let on, they weren’t very involved in her life except financially so she had come to see you as sort of an authority figure, likening you to the older sister she never had.
Finn, on the other hand, had moved across the country, settling in this town and finding work at your bakery the year it opened. Finn’s family were back in his hometown and he could never afford to fly home to see them so you had always made sure to make it known he was welcome to spend the holidays with you and Mingyu.
“I have made for you, pan-seared duck breast with a peppercorn cream sauce and roasted garlic butter parmesan potatoes,” he announced, gesturing at the plates. “And!” he added, rushing over to the fridge, opening it and disappearing for a moment to emerge with two unopened bottles of red wine.
“Could you grab the glasses for me?” Mingyu asked and you shook your head, walking over to your office to grab four glasses. Amara looked nervously from the bottle of wine to you and back. “Am I… allowed to have wine?” she asked softly. “I don’t want to get in trouble.”
You smiled as you returned. “This one,” you said, tapping one of the bottles on the lid. “Is my favorite wine and is a non-alcoholic wine by Leitz.” You could see the relief wash over Amara’s face. “And this one is a Jacques Bourguignon,” Mingyu added, tapping the other bottle. “It does have alcohol.”
You rolled your eyes as you opened the bottle of Leitz, pouring a glass for yourself and one for Amara as Mingyu opened and poured a glass of the Bourguignon for Finn and himself. The four of you stood in the kitchen, sipping on your wines and cutting into your food.
“This is amazing!” Amara said with a sigh. “I had no idea you could cook so well!” Laughter burst out of you as you sat on the counter, nursing your glass of non-alcoholic wine. Finn doubled over, clutching his stomach in laughter as Mingyu looked slightly offended.
Amara glanced from you to Finn, confusion on her face. “What did I say?” she asked, pouting. You patted her shoulder from your spot. “Mingyu is a chef,” you answered. Amara’s eyes widened comically as she started sputtering an apology. “I’m so sorry! I had no idea! I thought he was just really good at cooking!” You stifled more laughter with a sip of your wine.
Mingyu shook his head. “It’s okay,” he replied. “I don’t really talk about it much,” he continued. “But I actually own a restaurant.” Amara’s eyes widened even more as she started apologizing again. “It’s okay!” Mingyu reassured her and you smiled fondly, watching your husband comfort the poor girl.
After eating, Finn headed out after you refused to let him do the dishes, telling him you and Mingyu had it covered. You headed back into the office to check your calendar and finish the rest of your paperwork while Mingyu and Amara worked on cleaning up the kitchen.
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At about half past 7, you decided you were done with your office duties. Anything you didn’t finish today you could finish the day after Christmas. You stretched your arms, flexing your fingers before getting up and opening the door to see how Mingyu and Amara were getting on.
“Have you finished cleaning up,” you asked, peering into the kitchen to see your husband standing at the counter. He looked up, meeting your gaze. “Not yet,” Mingyu answered, lowering his gaze back down to the bowl of frosting on the counter. “I sent Amara home,” he added, glancing back up as you entered the kitchen, moving over to stand beside him and starting to collect the decorating tools.
“Her parents are hosting a party so I said we can manage,” Mingyu continued. “Hope that was okay,” he added and you nodded, looking up at him. “Of course,” you replied, looking back down as you gathered the icing bags and tips. “I don’t mind cleaning up the kitchen with my husband.”
Mingyu’s smile widened, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Besides,” you continued, dropping the tools in the hot soapy water and moving back to grab the silicone spatulas. “If she was here I couldn’t do this,” you added, swiping your finger over the spatula you just grabbed, the tip coated in white chocolate sauce. You turned to your husband, reaching up to spread the sauce on his cheek, letting out a giggle as you licked your finger clean.
Mingyu snorted, reaching a hand up to wipe up your mess but you stopped him, pulling his face to yours before licking the sweet confectionary off his skin. “Yah,” Mingyu whined as you pulled back and licked your lips. “I guess it’s a good thing I sent her home,” he continued.
“If she had seen that, I would have been very embarrassed.”
You rolled your eyes and moved to take the other silicone spatula, scooping some of the chocolate sauce on your finger. When Mingyu wasn’t paying attention, you dabbed some onto his face, smearing it near the corner of his mouth.
“Stop,” he chuckled, grabbing the spatula. “I’m gonna be all sticky.”
You snorted into a giggle as you fought your husband for dominance over the spatula. Mingyu took his chance to smear some chocolate sauce on your face, laughing when you stared at him in stunned silence. “Gotcha!” he chuckled. You pulled the spatula free and started to advance on him.
“No!” he squealed, running from you, his long legs helping him cross the kitchen quickly. You on the other hand were just fast, catching up to him and cornering him against the corner counters. “I was just returning the favor!” he whined as you wiggled your fingers, the tip of your index still covered in white chocolate.
“Here,” you said, holding out your hand. “Even the playing field.” You offered your finger with the chocolate sauce on it. Mingyu stared at the spatula in your hand, breathing a sigh of relief when you tossed it into the sink nearby. Mingyu took your hand, pulling it towards his face and sticking your finger in his mouth, cleaning the chocolate off your skin.
The action was one you’d done many times, letting him lick everything from whipped cream to cheese sauce from your finger. He was never one to turn down having your fingers in his mouth. The pent up frustration from the day pushed you to pull your hand from his mouth, grabbing the front of his smock and pulling him into a heated kiss, tasting the chocolate on his tongue.
You pulled back after a moment, your lungs burning and screaming for air. Mingyu turned your head, immediately licking off the frosting on your cheek slowly, taking his time to savor it. You let out a groan, feeling one of his hands wander down, fingers squeezing your ass.
“Your turn,” you whispered, your voice slightly hoarse as you tilted his hand and licked the frosting from his face, ending in a sloppy kiss that tasted like a mix of white and milk chocolate sauces.
“We should probably finish closing up,” you murmured as Mingyu pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “Yeah,” he replied breathlessly. “We probably should.”
Despite agreeing, neither one of you moved first until Mingyu’s hands wandered up, cupping your chest. “Or,” he offered, pulling back to look into your eyes. “We can finish off these sauces before we let the bowls soak.” You studied his face, looking into his eyes before coming to a conclusion.
“Okay,” you replied. “Go make sure the front door is locked,” you ordered.
Mingyu was off like a cannon, rushing to the storefront to make sure the door was locked, neon sign turned off before he returned to the kitchen as you were pulling out another steel bowl from the fridge and the leftover strawberries. You turned as he started to untie his apron.
“I figure we can eat some of this stuff with the leftover fruit,” you explained, showing him the bowl and the basket of strawberries. Mingyu flashed you a wide grin as you walked over to the counter and set your finds on the metal surface, moving to untie your apron.
You felt your husbands nimble fingers tug at the knots and help you remove the article. You turned, thanking him with a kiss before taking both yours and his aprons over to the hamper and tossing them in. You returned to Mingyu, hopping up onto the counter and picking up a strawberry. You dipped it into the chocolate and held it up for Mingyu.
He smirked, parting his lips and allowing you to push the chocolate covered fruit in his mouth. Mingyu dipped a piece of melon in the cream cheese frosting, holding it up for you to take it. You parted your lips slowly, keeping your gaze locked on his as you leaned forward, taking the fruit in your mouth.
You noticed the way your husband’s eye lingered on your lips, even after you pulled back with a grin.
The two of you continued to feed one another fruit and chocolate sauce. As you leaned back, holding yourself up with one of your hands, Mingyu leaned in, taking your lips in a measured kiss. Your lips parted and you felt his tongue along with chocolate sauce spill into your mouth.
“Come here,” Mingyu murmured, hands reaching up to undo the buttons on your chef smock, his lips meeting yours once more. Once he managed to undo the last button, he pushed the fabric aside, groaning as he buried his face into your chest, immediately kissing at your skin.
“This needs to come off,” he growled, pulling back just enough to undo the front closure on your bra and pull it off of you along with your smock. You groaned, back arching into his touch as you felt his mouth close around one of your nipples, tongue swirling around the bud.
You leaned back, one hand tangling in the mess of his black locks while the other supported your body. Mingyu pulled back, reaching over to grab a strawberry which he dipped in white chocolate sauce and promptly started to trail up your body from your navel. He smeared the sauce up your stomach and between your breasts, stopping to spread some over your nipple before holding the strawberry to your lips. You took it, moaning as his head ducked down to your stomach, licking up the path of the sauce.
Your thighs tightened around his waist as his tongue brushed over your nipple, taking it into his mouth to suck off the chocolate. Mingyu pulled back, moving back up to kiss you again, his hands fumbling with the ties on your pants. “What about you?” you whined. Mingyu chuckled as he pulled your pants down, thanking you when you lifted your hips to assist him.
“You’ll get your turn,” he murmured. “Lay down,” he instructed. You did as he asked, moaning as he kissed his way down your stomach, lips meeting the band of your panties. He stopped to glance up, meeting your gaze before he continued to kiss over the thin lace.
You moaned out his name, spreading your thighs wider as you felt his tongue press against you, only the black lace separating his tongue from where you wanted it the most. “F-ah! Fuck, baby,” you whimpered as you felt Mingyu leaned more into it, heat from his mouth spreading through your soaked panties.
“Just take them off, please!”
Mingyu pulled your panties down your legs, dropping them with the rest of your clothes. His head was back between your thighs quickly, tongue flicking rapidly against your clit as he held your thighs open. Your back arched off the counter, fingers tangling in his hair as you tried to push his head closer.
Mingyu groaned as you tugged on his hair, the sound vibrating against your cunt and sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. “Oh shit,” you gasped, eyes rolling shut as Mingyu licked and sucked at the sensitive bundle of nerves. The slurping sounds, coupled with your mewls and his groans against your pussy filled the room. It was so lewd and almost vile. You’d have to remember to sanitize and sterilize this station before opening back up on the 27th.
Mingyu’s fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs as he held your thighs open, tongue and lips messily moving against your cunt. “So good,” you breathed out, combing your fingers through his hair. You felt one of his hands slide up your body to grope at your chest, kneading gently as he continued to suckle.
“M’close,” you warned suddenly, feeling the tension in your body build, ready to snap at any moment. Instead of pulling away and letting you fall back from the edge, Mingyu drove you over it, tongue flicking in quick motions against your clit, groaning at the taste as you came, your juices flowing out of your pulsating hole.
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck,” you groaned, fingers in Mingyu’s hair tightening as you held his head still, your hips moving of their own accord, grinding yourself on his tongue as you rode out your high. Mingyu pulled away much too soon for your liking and as you were about to protest, he pressed his lips against yours, tongue slipping into your mouth.
“Tastes so good, baby,” he groaned against your lips. “Tastes better than anything,” he murmured as he pulled back. “Y-your turn,” you stammered, trying to sit up but Mingyu held you down. “Later, angel,” he replied. “Let me just fuck you real good.”
You shook your head, pushing him back as you sat up. You made quick work of his shirt, tossing it aside as you turned your head to the chocolate sauce and dipped a piece of fruit into it, bringing it up to Mingyu’s lips before dipping a finger into the same sauce and smearing it across his chest and some down his stomach.
You slid from the counter, lowering yourself to lick the sauce from his skin. Mingyu let out a groan. You stood back up, grinning at him for a moment before grabbing the bowl of chocolate sauce and dropping to your knees. Mingyu watched as you undid the button on his jeans and pulled them down along with his underwear, almost groaning yourself as his cock sprang free.
He was fully erect, tip red and leaking as you let his pants and underwear pool at his ankles. You dipped your finger in the chocolate sauce and carefully spread it along the underside of his cock, licking your finger clean before grabbing the base of his shaft and lifting his cock.
Mingyu’s eyes fluttered shut as you licked a strip up his cock, cleaning the chocolate before swallowing. You then make sure to clean it all up before taking all of him in your mouth quickly. Your husband let out a groan, one hand moving to brace himself against the counter behind you while the other moved to the top of your head, stroking your hair gently.
“Fuck, that’s it baby,” he groaned, hips starting to move in tandem with the bobbing of your head. You let go of his cock, placing both hands on his thighs as you let him guide your movements. His cock hit the back of your throat, filling the room with a wet, lewd gagging sound. You pulled back, looking up at him.
Mingyu could have cum from the sight alone, you naked on your knees, looking up at him with glossy eyes, saliva starting to spill down your chin. “Fuck my face,” you gasped hoarsely. Mingyu didn’t need to hear it again, grabbing your head and guiding your lips to the tip of his cock.
He let out a moan as your head sank further, his cock gliding back into your mouth. He started slowly, giving a few measured thrusts before setting a steady pace, pumping in and out of your mouth. Each pull back, you allowed your tongue to swirl around the head of his cock until he stopped pulling out entirely. You gagged around him as he thrust into your mouth.
Your hands moved up to his hips, pulling him in as you tried to take all of his cock. “Oh fuck,” you heard him groan as the head of his cock slipped into your throat. You gagged around his cock, throat constricting as you tried to swallow. “Ah, shit!” he hissed. He pulled your head back, allowing air to fill your lungs again as his cock twitched.
Your hand moved back, fingers wrapping around him as you continued the momentum, stroking him quickly, spitting onto the head of his cock to add to the lubrication. “Fuck, fuck! Stop, baby!” He moaned, hand wrapping around your wrist. “I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop!”
You gave the head of his cock a light lick, giggling and looking up at him. Mingyu groaned at the sight and grabbed your wrist, tugging you up gently. “Up,” he ordered, helping you back up to the counter before he grabbed his cup of ice water.
“What’re you doing?” you asked, watching as he pulled the lid off and took a tip, tipping his head back. When he lowered the cup, he set it aside, leaving the lid off. In his teeth, he held an ice cube. He leaned forward, leaving open mouth kisses along your collar and chest with the ice cube gliding over your skin easily.
A chill went up your spine, nipples peaking as his mouth moved closer. You let out a gasp, feeling the icy liquid against the sensitive skin of your areolas. Mingyu swirled his tongue, allowing the melting ice cube to move around your nipple.
He pulled back, grabbing the cup and dumping more ice into his mouth. He kissed down your stomach, pushing you flat on your back as his head dipped between your thighs. You felt the ice against your clit and gasped loudly. His tongue toyed with your clit, the cold sensation contrasting with the heat radiating from between your legs.
Mingyu pulled back, swallowing down the ice. You sat up, grabbing his cup and dumped some ice into your mouth, pushing him back as you sucked on the cube. You lowered yourself, to your knees, fisting his cock before guiding the head back to your mouth.
Mingyu groaned out, pounding his hand against the metal counter as your cold mouth took more and more of his hot cock. You bobbed your head a few times, allowing the melting ice to rub along the underside of his cock.
“F-fuck,” he shivered. “Get up here,” he growled, pulling your head back and guiding you back to your feet. “On the counter.” You must not have moved fast enough for him because he turned you away, pushing you over the counter as he guided the head of his cock to your dripping entrance.
You felt him rub the tip around your slit, gathering your wetness and smearing it. You felt him rub his cock against you, rutting against your ass and dragging the underside of his shaft through your folds. “M’gonna fuck you so good,” you heard him groan, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance again before taking your hips in his hands and pushing in.
You mewled, your walls stretching to accommodate the head of his cock. He stilled for a moment, panting as he tried to hold back but the way you wiggled your hips made it harder and harder and soon, he was bracing himself, fingers tightening on your waist before plunging his cock into you with one thrust.
The sudden intrusion caused you to cry out in both pain and pleasure, the ache and sting of the stretch pairing with the pleasure of feeling him filling you raw with his thick cock. “Lift this,” he urged, grabbing the back of your thigh and guiding your leg up, knee bent as he pushed your chest against the steel.
“Stay just like that,” he groaned, moving his hand back to your waist. He thrust into you, pulling back only slightly before thrusting again, setting a steady rhythm. He looked down, watching his cock sink into your cunt repeatedly, groaning at the sight of your juices already coating his shaft.
“That’s right,” he scoffed when you moaned loudly, fingers curling into a fist as you tried to brace yourself against his thrusts. “Only I fuck you this good, don’t I?” he groaned. You moaned in response, back arching as his hips started to slap against your ass.
“You like it when I stuff you full of this cock, don’t you?” he asked. You nodded, head dropping as you lost yourself in the pleasure. “Y-yes!” you gasped out. “Love it when you fuck my tight pussy with your big cock, Mingyu!”
You were stroking his ego but then again, your husband had pretty good thrust and hip game when it came to sex. He always left you feeling more than satisfied. “That’s right,” he retorted. “You’re such a little slut for me.”
Your walls clenched around him before you started to push back to meet his thrusts. The sudden action had him doubling over your back with a deep groan. “Mm, fuck!” you growled. “Oh shit. I love it when you do that,” Mingyu gasped. “Love it when you fuck yourself on my cock. Keep going, baby.”
You felt him slow his movements but you kept the momentum going, fucking yourself back on his cock, gasping and moaning as the tip nudged your cervix with each thrust. “Oh fuck, yeah,” Mingyu moaned, hands moving to the counter on either side of you, holding him up.
“Keep going,” he continued. “Fuck yourself. Use me like your own person fuck toy,” he added. “Oh god, Mingyu!” you whimpered, thighs shaking as your ass hit Mingyu’s hips with each thrust. “Call me your dirty little fuck toy,” Mingyu pleaded, his voice becoming breathless as he met your movements.
“You think you can tell me what to do?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at him. “You’re my fucking slut,” you growled back. “Begging me to fuck your cock like some kind of whore.” Mingyu’s cock twitched, a groan escaping him. He made no attempt to move his hands, content to let you move at your own pace for now.
“Good, look at you,” you continued. “Willing to let me use that thick cock to get myself off.”
“How pathetic.”
“I’m sorry,” Mingyu said quickly. “I’ll be good,” he added. “Just keep using me.”
You scoffed, turning your head to look back forward. “I want you to fuck me,” you retorted. “I want you to fuck me hard. Make me scream. Make my legs shake. Make it so I can’t stand tomorrow.”
You felt his hands on your hips. “You sure, angel?” you heard him whisper. You nodded. “Yes,” you replied. “Fuck me, Mingyu. Fuck me hard.” Mingyu didn’t need to be told twice, grabbing your hips hard as he slammed into you from behind, a gasp ripping from your throat.
He set a relentless pace, pounding into you from behind as he drove both of you towards orgasm. “Your cock is so big, Gyu,” you moaned, cheek pressed against the cool metallic surface. “Feels so good. Feel it so deep.” “God, yes, Gyu. Please,” you whined.
“Please give it to me. Give it all to me,” you continued, his cock starting to twitch rapidly, each drag of your walls raw against his cock sending him further and further towards the edge. “F-fuck!” he gasped. “M’gonna cum, baby,” he warned. “Where you want it baby?” Mingyu asked, glancing down at you.
“Inside me. Just cum inside me, Gyu. Fill me up with your cum.”
He groaned, leaning over your back and sinking his teeth into your shoulder, sucking against your skin as his hips slammed into you, his release washing over him. Thick ropes of cum spilled inside you, painting your walls in white.
Mingyu rode out both your highs, thrusting sloppily into you as he forced his cum further into you. When his hips finally came to a halt, he let out a breathy chuckle and pushed himself up, looking down at the indentation of his teeth in your shoulder. He pulled back to see where his cock disappeared inside you, the base of it coated in his cum.
He internally winced as he pulled out, both from the sudden change and from the sight of his cum spilling out of your abused cunt. He gathered some of it with his fingers, pushing it back into you. “Keep that in there,” he said playfully as he looked down at your pussy.
“We need to finish cleaning up,” he murmured, moving to grab a clean kitchen towel and wet it before wiping your thighs and sex clean. He helped you back into your clothes before pulling his own on. You cleaned up the rest of the leftover chocolate sauce and fruit, dumping the bowls into the soapy water that was surprisingly still hot.
Mingyu washed the dishes while you cleaned and sanitized the counter you’d defiled. Once the dishes were clean and you were certain the countertop was sterilized, you returned to his side, sighing as he pulled you into his warm embrace. “Can we go now?” he asked softly, tilting your head back so he could kiss you.
You smiled against his lips, pulling back to nod and answer him. “Yes. We’re done and we can finally leave.” Mingyu’s lips spread into a wide grin. “Perfect,” he responded, taking your hand and pressing it against his growing erection. “Again?” you asked incredulously. He nodded with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“I’m not done with you just yet.”
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ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.
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thelaisydazy · 9 months ago
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Hi!! I love love LOVE your fire fighter au SO SO SO much!! I’ve been thinking about how they would react to a fire at your place or the bakery? Or if it burned down?
I am uhh new to requests and tumblr stuff in general so sorry if your requests aren’t open!! 🥺❤️
Hi anon! If the request button is up on my blog, you're welcome to drop in anytime!
I've had the idea for a fire at the bakery for a while now but never finished writing it. I hope you like it!
CW: fire, injury (mentioned)
You’re in the back of the bakery, the air is thick with black smoke. You crouch close to the tile floor, coughing desperately for air. 
You came in slightly earlier that morning. It was just you and a new baker, one you were certain didn’t know a deep fryer from a mixer. He’d shouted for you to help him finish icing a couple cakes, you weren’t the most skilled at it but he assured you it wasn’t for a special order so you just went with it. 
Then he just vanished, not telling you about the already burning bread in the oven and the overused parchment paper left in a heap near the fryer. As you turned to fry a couple donuts, the parchment ignited. It spread so fast you couldn’t escape, you were trapped. 
You were going to die. There was no way you were not going to die here. You lay your head down on the tile, still desperately gasping for oxygen. 
There was a loud crash near the double doors that led to the storefront. You think it might be the shelves collapsing as they’re burned away. You don’t see the shape that pushes through those doors. You don’t hear it as it stomps up to you, crouching low to wrap strong arms around you. 
Air.
Oxygen floods your lungs and your head clears and you catch sight of a firefighter. He’s huge but he carries you as though you might shatter to pieces if he’s not careful. You barely catch a glimpse of a skull under the helmet as you’re lifted into his strong arms. 
---
You wake up in the hospital, the bright lights stinging your eyes. 
“Aye! They’re awake!” A familiar voice shouts before the room fills with people. 
Your vision clears and you recognize the voice belonging to Johnny, and he isn’t alone. Kyle, John, and finally Simon flood the room, all fussing over you. 
“You had us scared to death, love,” Kyle’s gentle voice coos. “We didn’t think you’d make it for a minute there.”
John’s gentle hand finds your head, smoothing over your tangled hair and he offers you a warm smile. Your eyes find Simon though, and the sling he’s wearing. 
“What happened?” you ask, worry settling over your features.
“The bakery was going to collapse,” John answered. “Simon insisted on going in to look for you, he got you out just in time.”
Your stomach twisted at the idea that he'd gotten hurt trying to save you. You open your mouth-
“It’s just a sprain,” Simon’s gravelly voice says. “S’not as serious as it looks. ‘M fine.” 
You can’t help but feel as though he’s lying, but you’re in no condition to argue with him. “What about the bakery?” you ask. “Is it..”
“It’s gone, sweet one,” Simon says. “There was nothing we could do.”
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minniepetals · 2 years ago
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until death
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— summary: until death do you part, you are theirs and they are yours
— pairing: bts x reader
— genre: fluff, slight angst, demon!au
— word count: 4.4k
— warnings: none
— commission for @daisyjoons
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“What’s that in your hand?”
“H-Huh?” 
“The flower,” Seokjin beckons at the rose he has in his hand, his tall figure and deadpanned eyes staring down at the man, it almost leaves him wanting to pee his pants right on the spot. “It’s not for the baker, now is it?”
Six more pairs of eyes stare directly down at him and yet he still has the audacity to say; “Yes, it’s..it’s for miss Y/N.”
“Ah.”
Suddenly the air in the little shop shifts and a sharp, cold breeze rushes through the room despite the fact that today should have been nothing but a pleasant breeze. Little ashes of smoke begin to appear from the thin air of the floors of the shop, sauntering around as customers sitting in their designated seats pick their feet up out of fear, their whispers of panic raising, and the man at the center of the demons’ wrath feels sharp ice crawling all over his body.
“It seems you want trouble,” Jungkook says as he takes a step forward, causing the man to step back, and so Jungkook keeps following along until he backs himself against the counter, trembling in sight while the rest of the people hold their breaths, too frightful to make a move in fear of being on the receiving end of the demons’ wrath.
“I-I don’t want trouble,” the poor man stutters.
Taehyung clicks his tongue in irritation while Jimin scoffs.
“Clearly you do,” Namjoon says. “You uttered her name. In the demon world, no one is allowed to utter someone’s name so carelessly. Only if they mean something to you and if the person has allowed you to utter their name.”
“I-I’m sorry sir, I-I didn’t know.”
“And giving roses,” Yoongi plucks the flower right out of his fingertips, “means an eternal love you are willing to spend the rest of your life with.” He burns the petty little thing right before the man’s eyes, all the while keeping his glare pointed right at him, causing the guy to visibly shallow a hard lump.
“Do you understand where you’re wrong?” Hoseok threatens, an arm propped up against Yoongi’s shoulder, hovering.
“I-I-” He looks like he’s about to piss his pants.
“Do you, understand?” So Hoseok reiterates, deeper, darker, graver. “Yes or no?”
“I..y-yes, yes—”
“What are you doing?”
A voice.
A sweet, sweet voice more precious and sweeter than the nectar the butterflies flock themselves onto, than any blood that can satisfy a vampire, than the sun that gives humans light and nutrients. A voice they love more than anything in this world.
Except the woman herself whom it belongs to.
They turn in an instant, ears perking up, head snapped, to find you standing before the door that leads to the backrooms, holding onto a tray of desserts they know you’ve made just for them, and their faces immediately soften.
The room brightens up, the shadows beginning to melt away into thin air in the same way they appeared, and Jimin is just about to rush up to you if it weren’t for your eyes suddenly shifting from them.
Your attention isn’t on them.
“You’re scaring the poor man!” You quickly say as you put your tray down onto the counter, rushing to untie the apron strings from behind, rushing in between them and the gentleman, an arm extending as you force Jungkook to back off. “Not just him but my customers!” You turn to address the guy. “Are you alright sir? I apologize for everything.”
He takes one glance behind you and instantly freezes up once more, quick to shake his head vehemently at the dark eyes staring straight into his soul — unbeknownst to you.
“I-I’m okay! I’m okay!” He blurts out before simply scurrying out the door before you can get another word in.
You stare at the scene, blinking at his sudden rush, before turning around to place your hands upon your hips, all the while the boys are quick to change up their expressions, acting as if they’ve been innocent all along.
“You just lost me a customer. Would you like to explain why you were interrogating the poor dude?” You start, brows furrowed, shoulders tense, chin slightly protruding and they know you’re trying to be all high and mighty but in their eyes, you just look like an upset bunny trying to fight seven wolves. “You really need to keep yourselves in check and stop summoning your shadows to show up out of nowhere, you know that scares people. How are my customers supposed to eat and drink and have a calm peaceful day if you just show up out of nowhere and deliberately make a scene?”
“M-miss Y/N, we’re fine but please—” An older woman tries to appease you, her approach timid as she holds her hands up, trying to calm you down in fear of the men in the room who’re the reason for your anger. “You don’t have to stand up for our sake.”
“We’re fine, you don’t have to do this.”
“I’d really love it if I didn’t have to witness our favorite baker in town—”
“What are you talking about, ma’am, they need a proper scolding,” you say otherwise, clearly unaware of the public’s concern for your life, being as you’re literally standing up against seven tall, masculine men who can literally bend the Earth and destroy this town with a flick of their wrist.
“Miss Y/N, please—”
“It’s alright, just go back to your coffee. I assure you I can handle this.”
“No please—”
You ignore their pleas to turn back around, that business smile fading the second you meet their eyes and they frown, hating the way you sounded kind to your customers and yet don’t bother to send them a smile.
“So then, what do you have to say for yourselves?”
“It’s not even that big of a—”
“Excuse me?” You cross your arms before your chest, looking up at them with a serious expression and they know they can’t not listen to whatever you say.
Only you can ever make them bend a knee.
“Sorry,” Jimin grumbles under his breath but you pretend you didn’t hear it.
“What was that?”
He sighs and steps forward, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you in close, much to the audience’s dismay, and pepper kisses upon your cheeks. “You heard me darling, I said I was sorry.”
“Sorry. We’re sorry,” Jungkook joins in, a hand on your head as he presses a kiss to your temple.
You feel your heart lighting up, a smile waiting to creep up but you know not to give in just yet. “And to my customers?”
Namjoon crosses a hand over to his heart, giving the people a light bow. “We apologize for the inconvenience, dear customers of Y/N’s,” he says, and while they simply look back with mouths agape and widened pupils, frozen in their spots, he turns his head back your way, a cheeky little grin spread across his face as if asking for a compliment for doing the thing that you asked him to do.
You bite back a grin, seeing how obedient they are when it comes to you, but you know that if you let them see even the smallest bit of that, they'll disregard the people around them and simply coddle you to their heart’s content.
So you take Jimin’s hand and lead him into the backrooms, knowing the rest are quick to follow along, all the while leaving your customers blinking and rubbing their eyes, wondering if what they had just seen was right or if it had been simply a figment of their imaginations.
After all, everyone knows demons would never yield to a human that easily, much less care for them in the way they just treated you.
“Someone looks stressed.”
Once you’re finally left alone with your demons without any eyes kept on you, you let your guard down, smiling ruefully as you take a good look at the seven of them. Demons don’t live on sleep in the way humans need it, they get their energy elsewhere, but sometimes there are days you feel as if perhaps taking a nap will help them.
They look so tired.
“But that still doesn’t mean you can come around here and demand things out of my customers.”
Yoongi grunts, rolling his eyes at your words like a child hating to be scolded. “I get it, I get it,” he repeats exasperatedly when he walks over to place his head against your chest, letting you run your fingers through your hair to coddle him.
“But he was trying to give you roses,” Taehyung says as he clicks his tongue with irritation, that glare he has on is always enough to kill someone if he could, and for a good while you were scared of it yourself, but luckily you’ve gotten used to it. Taehyung would never hurt you after all.
And you know exactly what roses mean in the demon language. It was what they gave you when they confessed their undying love to you after all, a day you will never forget, a day they swept you off your feet and the very day you became forever theirs. You can never forget what those roses mean to them because to demons who’re almost incapable of feeling, much less love another, if a rose is given by them unto another, it is something one must never doubt.
“You do understand that roses aren’t as significant as they are to us humans, don’t you?” You remind them, a light chuckle leaving your lips when Taehyung drops his head onto your shoulder, asking for the same attention you’re giving to Yoongi. “I mean they mean a lot to me because they mean a lot to you but to humans in general, roses are just another sign of love.”
“Exactly, love. That’s a universal language and he was trying to steal you away from us.” You feel Hoseok’s arms slide around your waist from behind, lips pressing onto the nape of your neck.
“He didn’t know,” you try to excuse the action of the poor man who you didn’t even know was trying to confess to you just a few minutes prior.
But they’re having none of that.
“Who goes around professing their love to someone they don’t even know that well? Did he really believe a pretty girl like you would remain loveless by men all around her?”
You laugh awkwardly at Seokjin’s words. “What’re you trying to say by that?”
“He should know his place,” he says as he takes your chin from under his fingertips, bringing you forth to his face, “and that you, who is beloved by many, wouldn’t have already stolen the hearts of others around her. You attract after all, and just like those pretty little sweets you make every day before the town can even wake up, a simple glance at you can cause quite the addiction.”
“I..” You avert your eyes, cheeks heating because you know exactly what he’s trying to imply. “I don’t think I..”
“You don’t?” The eldest raises a brow as if daring you to further challenge his belief.
“W-well…” You stumble on your words before clearing your throat. “Sometimes too many sweets can be bad for you.”
“Well, luckily I have a sweet tooth.” A small little smirk curl along the corner of his lip, a low chuckle leaving him just as he leans in to capture your lips, leaving your heart to skip a thousand beats faster than its initial pounding.
He doesn’t kiss you for too long but even then, once he leaves you, you’re a blushing mess.
“Heart’s pounding rather fast,” Yoongi states, and you’re stumbling over your words once again.
“I..I-I wasn’t…”
“How long has it been? You’re still swooning over such a small thing?” Jungkook teases.
“It’s alright, I quite like it actually,” Seokjin says, his hand reaching up to tuck it behind your ear. “It’s quite refreshing seeing what we do still makes her react like this. You love us that much, huh darling?”
“If you’re here just to tease me, please just return to whatever it was you were doing before coming here.”
“Hey, don’t act like you don’t like it,” Namjoon pulls you back in when you try to run away to hide your embarrassment. They hold you in close, grips so steady you know there’s really no chance you’ll ever be able to escape.
Not that you want to.
And seeing those looks on their faces, you know they know that fact more than anyone else.
After all, these days can sometimes be rare; the days when they show up before you unexpectedly, most times without ever telling you beforehand. These days are the days you cherish the most, when you can be in their arms just like this, without ever feeling as if they would ever let you go.
Not until it’s time for them to leave. Not until they have to leave.
And it’s in those moments when they do have to leave do you feel the most lonely. When you have to stay behind, taking a moment to gather yourself, remember their holds and kisses, before returning to your baking with a customer smile on your face so no one knows just how lonely you are when your demons leave, knowing you can do nothing but wait until their next visit.
There are times when waiting takes days, weeks, and sometimes even a whole month and you’re always left wondering just where they are and where they’ve gone and what they’re doing.
But you know you’d never tell them just how lonely you really are when they’re gone.
After all, the times they visit are for the times of loving and holding one another. It isn’t a time to dwell on things that don’t matter, it isn’t a time to cry and wish and to hope. It’s a time to cherish what’s before you before they have to leave.
Only when they’re gone can you actually dwell on your loneliness.
“If something ever goes wrong or if you simply need us, you can call us anytime.”
You stare at the little bell shaped into a red rose one lonely night while standing under the stars in the middle of your garden.
It’s the garden of red roses they created for you, a garden that can never wilt no matter the seasons, time, or period. It dies only when the owner who received these flowers dies.
It will wilt only once you’ve wilted.
“Just how long will you continue to live, little ones?” You hold a hand out to feel the soft petals of the roses upon your fingertips, smiling at how pretty they are. Not even one petal is torn or hurt. They all look alive and well, alive and flourishing.
Jungkook says they reflect their owners’ age as you know that one day in the far future, these flowers will probably begin to look dainty and frail as well, and yet you don’t wish to ever see these flowers growing old with you.
Growing old means nearing death.
Growing old means wilting.
And then what will happen to the ones you’ll be leaving behind? The lifespan of a human does not last forever after all, and the more you think about it, the more you come to understand that they’ve got all the time in the world, hence they don’t ever look sad or griefed whenever they come to visit days or weeks or months later.
It is because to demons, the passing of time is simply but a second walking by.
Yet to you, every ticking second means a second closer to wilting away.
You let out a sigh, turning from the flowers to take a step forward towards your house when a harsh wind passes by, causing your shawl to fly off, and in an attempt to grab for it, you’ve forgotten about the bell you had in your hand, causing the little flower shape to fall from your hand and jingle as it hits the ground.
You gasp as you freeze in place because in just mere seconds, you know you aren’t alone anymore.
Seven presence right behind you.
Who would have thought it’d work this fast?
You quickly pick your bell up, eyes scanning forward at the shawl that flew off onto a rose bush, and rush forward to take it back because of how cold the night air has gotten.
“Well someone most certainly called us here on purpose, didn’t she?”
You turn back at Yoongi’s sarcastic comment once you’ve gotten your shawl to wrap it back onto yourself.
“Sorry! It was the wind,” you quickly say as you rush back to their side. “The bell was in my hand and when my shawl flew away, I forgot about it so when I went to reach for my shawl, the bell fell out and now here you are, summoned by the jingle.”
“So you’re not in immortal danger?”
At Seokjin’s question, you take a look around, wanting to laugh a bit at the situation. “Uh nope! Looks like I’m perfectly fine.”
“So you’ll only call us if you’re in immortal danger? How disappointing.” Jungkook lets out a heavy sigh, his lips pouting.
“What? You want me to call you if I miss you or something?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“Ha ha, very funny.” You place the bell securely into your pocket then tighten the shawl around your body. “Anyways, it’s pretty cold out here. You should get back to what you were doing. As you can see, I’m not hurt nor am I in any danger. In the meantime, I think it’s time for me to head to bed.”
You begin to walk off to your door again when Namjoon stops you.
“What were you doing out here?” He asks and you stop in your tracks, shrugging.
“Just thinking.”
“Thinking?”
“About immortality and stuff.”
“Immortality?” Jimin steps up to drape an arm around your shoulder in order to turn you back around to where they’re standing, at the same time helping you to keep warm against the night breeze. “What’s got you thinking about immortality, darling? Are you finally thinking about how to become one?”
“You know I like my human life.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he rolls his eyes. “Something about growing old is part of what makes human life so beautiful or whatever.”
“I don’t understand why death is beautiful to you,” Taehyung says.
“Well on the other hand, don’t you think immortality is somewhat of a curse?” You ask and they look upon themselves as if they’ve never given that idea a chance before.
“Why would it be a curse?”
“Well…” Your words trail off slowly and yet they wait for your explanation, eyes steady on you, ears open to whatever you have to say, and you play along with your fingers, nails digging into the skin a bit. “When I die…you’ll still have thousands of years left to live.” You avoid their eyes, staring down at the ground. “...Won’t you miss me?”
They grow silent.
Everything grows silent and you hear nothing but the little breeze that passes by ever so often, as well as the cicadas out in the night, singing their sweet songs, a melody mirroring the birds in the early morning.
“So you’re saying,” Hoseok begins, “that you’ll die before us.”
“It’s inevitable,” you say, looking up again. “Forty years may not mean a lot to you but forty years into the future means me getting old and gray and my health deteriorating. Humans are living and dying at the same time. I get closer to death with each passing day.”
“Don’t say that.”
“You know it’s true.” You watch as Jungkook turns to look at the flowers in the garden, his hand reaching out to touch one of them. “I’d never want to die and let you live through years of heartache. I’d never want to leave you behind in this world and no matter how happy we will be, death is something that is inevitable to come for me, you know that. Though I wouldn’t ever want you to follow along either. I don’t want to die together.”
“So you love your human life but you don’t want to die and leave us behind, but you also don’t want us to choose our own death in following you right behind, and you don’t wish to become an immortal.” Namjoon takes a step forward into your proximity, their expressions more grave than any other times you’ve ever seen them — except in those moments when you’re in immortal danger right before them. It frightens you a bit wondering what’s going on inside their heads, but what frightens you most is the inevitable future threatening to tear you apart.
“What is it that you want, Y/N?” Namjoon asks and you take a moment to think.
What is it that you want?
Why’re you thinking about immortality and death? Why was the wind listening to you when you were left to yourself in this garden? Why did it hear your silent plea in wishing to see them and therefore taking your fate into their hands and causing you to accidentally call for your demons?
Why does any of this even matter?
“I don’t know…” You look down at your feet, fingers unable to keep still, the vision before you blurring. “I-I don’t know,” you admit truthfully and when you look up again, their eyes widen at the sight of tears brimming along your waterline, waiting to fall down any second now. “I don’t want to live forever but I don’t…I don’t want to ever leave you behind and…and…I don’t know what I want. All I know is that…is that even though I enjoy this human life, I hate how different we are. I hate how different we think because to you, a day passing by means nothing. A week, a month, maybe even a year. A year without me is nothing to you. You can let time go by and it wouldn’t mean a thing because you get to live forever but to me…to me….I..”
You swallow the lump that wishes to cut your voice off, forcing the words out. “I hate waiting. I hate not knowing when it is you’ll be visiting again. I hate each day that passes, I hate it when you leave me, I hate being lonely and empty, I hate it when I have to wait. I hate it. I hate all of it.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I don’t know,” you cry, ignoring the tears that slip by when they close in on you. A few hiccups threaten to leave your voice behind but you continue talking through it all. “It’s just…I-I didn’t bring it up because I know you get busy and even if you aren’t so busy, I…I thought that, well, if the passing of time doesn’t affect you, why should it affect me?”
“You should have spoken up, my love.”
“You know if you asked for the world, we’d give it to you in a heartbeat, right? Why would you think we wouldn’t stop anything and everything if you just asked to be with us?”
“I don’t know,” you cry again, letting the last syllable drag out as more tears fall from your eyes and they’re quick to panic, realizing their reassuring words probably sounded more like them scolding you.
“It’s alright, it’s alright. You don’t have to cry anymore.”
“We know. We know now so it’ll be alright.”
“I’ll tell you what, become one of us.”
Your cry falls silent as only sniffles and small hiccups leave your lips when you hear those words. You blink up at Taehyung, slightly confused. “..What?”
“You heard him, become one of us.”
“I told you I don’t want to live forever.”
“You don’t have to live forever, darling.”
“I..I don’t?”
Yoongi shakes his head. “We can live together for as long as we want and when you get tired of life, when you get tired of immortality, just say the word and we’ll make it happen in a heartbeat.”
“...Really?”
“Of course.” Namjoon presses a kiss to your forehead just as you feel Taehyung’s hands wiping your tears away and Seokjin handing you a tissue he created from thin air. “Hoseok said, didn’t he? You could ask us for the world and we’d give it to you without question.”
“We’d burn the world if it means making you happy.”
“But what if I just want you and not the whole world?”
Soft smiles appear upon their faces, softening their features, whispering sincere affirmations of love.
“Oh darling, you already have us.”
“And you’ll have us even after death takes us all away.”
“But…I thought…” with the last remaining tears wiped away, you take a small little glance towards the rose bushes, eyes scattering off with confusion, “doesn’t immortality mean…forever? How would I..-How would we just…leave this world?”
“There is always an answer to everything,” you feel warmth seeping through the palm of Yoongi’s hand when he caresses your face, “and just like the stars that burn bright in the night, lasting for eons on end, they too have their beginning and ending and one day they will burn away as well.”
“Then, technically..you aren’t cursed with immortality?”
“Well technically, yes, but in theory, going against the ways of life means going against the laws of the world, which also means throwing things off balance, so it also means receiving death sentences for throwing off said balance.”
You take a moment to blink, trying to comprehend what Jungkook just said, before simply letting out an “Oh.”
They chuckle at your silence and you feel Jimin ruffle your hair. “Though of course we’d never let anyone touch you, not even the world. There are other ways to leave an immortal life but it’ll happen when we get there so don’t worry your little head off about how everything works.”
“You just have to trust us,” Seokjin agrees.
“You’ll trust us, won’t you?” Hoseok asks.
You take his hands in yours, eyes determined without a glint of hesitation. “I trust you with my life and until death do us part, it is yours to keep.”
Taehyung chuckles at the sentiment before repeating the vow you’ve just spoken. “Until death do us part.”
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j-onedrabbles · 1 year ago
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Baking instructor
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❄︎ PAIRING: SEUNGMIN X READER X JEONGIN ❄︎ CW: FEM!READER, FOOD MENTIONS, MENTION OF BROKEN WRIST ❄︎ WC: 0.4K ❄︎ NOTE:
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     “The hell are you two doing?” Y/n asked, walking into her kitchen to see her two boyfriends making a mess.
     “Baking,” Seungmin stated, a matter-of-fact tone
     “Neither of you bake?” Y/n questioned. She was the baker of the relationship. Usually making batches of cookies, cupcakes, macaroons, and such for the holidays. Not this year, unfortunately.
     She’d fallen a few weeks back and attempted to catch herself before hitting the ground but wound up breaking her wrist instead. Now she was stuck in a cast and couldn't do much. 
     “We're trying to bake,” Jeongin corrected 
     “And failing,” Seungmin added
     “Why?” Y/n joined them in the kitchen 
     “You were all sad you couldn't bake anything for the holidays so we thought we try and do it this year,” Jeongin explained 
     “Not doing a very good job but it's the thought that counts,” Seungmin added
     “I appreciate it, but you're going to burn the apartment down if you don't get that batch out of the oven.”
     Seungmin moved to grab their failed batch out of the oven as she said. “How about I walk you guys through making my cookies, okay?” Y/n asked
     “Good idea, because I feel like these are too thin,” Seungmin said as he set the hot tray down. 
     Y/n looked over at the tray, “Thin and you guys burnt the edges.”
     “I knew we stretched the dough too thin,” Jeongin sighed
     Y/n smiled and kissed both their cheeks and made them clean up a bit and walked them through the steps of her cookie recipe. Making sure they got every measurement right.
     “Put flour on the counter so the dough doesn't stick,” Y/n told them, “Don't roll it too thin.”
     “You tell us when it's thick enough.” Seungmin grabbed the rolling pin and spread the dough out until she told them to stop. 
     “Baking sheet!” Y/n ordered
     Jeongin grabbed their failed batch off the sheet and resprayed it so the cookies wouldn't stick.
     “Okay. Now just use the cookie cutters for the shapes and put them on the tray!”
     The two idols cut out shapes of dough and placed them on the tray Y/n let them know when the cookies were too close on the sheet and had them move them. Once the tray was filled it got slid into the readjusted heated oven and timer set. 
     “Now we have to make the icing,” Y/n smiled
     “More steps?!” Jeongin asked
     The other two laughed before hugging him and giving him a few cheek kisses. 
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SERIES M. LIST ❄︎ MAIN M. LIST ❄�� TIP JAR
TAGLISTS ❄︎ @starlostastronaut @want2besomeoneelse @aylinbsx @143lix @princesspanda16 @manuosorioh @delulu18 @shaylaxo @chillichillicrabcrab23
© 2023 jonedrabbles. Please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.
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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 months ago
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Five Fics Friday: August 30/24
Happy Friday everyone!! Check out what I've got for you today to get you through Labour Day Weekend! Enjoy!
RECENT MFLs
It Never Rains by StellaCartography (M, 1,955 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Parentlock with Rosie, Domestic Disaster, Plumbing Issues) – Focus, Watson, he commanded himself. He was down to the last corner of floor and then he'd just have to plunge the toilet, scrub and disinfect every surface in the bathroom, clean out the shower, run another wash, feed Rosie a proper dinner, and get her to bed. All in the next hour, if he wanted to prevent a stroppy Rosie and an even stroppier Sherlock. He hurried to get the toilet flowing again and was kneeling down to start on the floor when the door opened.
A Study in Bathtub Drains by jawnscoffee (G, 1,233 w., 1 Ch. || Prompt Fic, Established Relationship, Bathing, POV John) – It's a hot summer's day but not in a Shakespeare- but a really sweaty-i‘m-dying-because-of-the-heat-way. Which is why Sherlock wants to take an ice bath. The only problem: he can‘t find the bathtub drain.
For The Honour Of The Division by flawedamythyst (T, 8,627 w., 1 Ch. || Pub Night, Pub Quiz) – Lestrade wants to win the pub quiz, John wants to socialise Sherlock, and Sherlock just wants to get John drunk. (TRANSLATION: 中文-普通话國語)
The Arrangement by AbAbsurdo (M, 16,891 w., 10 Ch. || Mystrade || Victorian AU || Misunderstandings, Romance, Secret Identity, Historical Inaccuracy, Age Difference, Past Child Abuse, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Background Relationships) – Ten years ago, Mycroft Holmes was forced by his father to marry a young aristocrat from Brussels, who was left alone in the family’s countryside estate while Mycroft went to London to pursue a career in politics. A decade later, he sends divorce papers to the husband he hasn’t seen since he was a boy because he wants to go after James Moriarty who’s been seeking his company for years. In a ball, he meets his brother’s acquaintance and occasional colleague Inspector Lestrade and falls for him instead. His husband, while in grave danger himself, has not yet said his last word. Old enemies are waiting for a mistake to destroy him.
The Slash Man by Engazed (E, 281,469 w., 34 Ch. || Post TRF, Detective Story, Angst, Hurt / Comfort, Gore, Conspiracy, Friendship, Rape/Non-Con, Disturbing Images, Graphic Violence) – After ten days of unspeakable torture at the hands of Sherlock's worst enemies, John Watson has returned to Baker Street to live with a man whose death, no matter how fake, still haunts him. But his recovery is not easy, his friendship with Sherlock is strained, and a dangerous but hidden menace continues to threaten them both. Part 2 of The Fallen Series
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werepuppy-steve · 11 months ago
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january fic rec
so i figured that instead of waiting until december to make a big long post of all the fics i read throughout the year, i'd break it down into monthly recs instead. i barely read anything at all last year, and it makes me feel awful every time i think about it, so hopefully this method keeps me on track so i can make some headway on the hoard of fics i have saved.
this also helps to boost fics that might've been missed or overlooked in the chaos and carnage brought by the passage of time.
these will include tumblr fics as well as ao3 fics!
general warning: smut will be included in these so please read at your own discretion and heed any warnings and tags!
▸ january fic rec - b sides
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break the ice (i can't take anymore) - T, 2.2k, complete @matchingbatbites
tags: hockey au, established relationship, shower sex, secret relationship
“I’m surprised you’re still here,” Steve says as he leans into Eddie’s creeping touch, the little bit of contact more of a tease than anything. “Thought you’d be back at the hotel by now.” Eddie grins up at Steve and tugs him closer. “And miss the chance to congratulate you properly? To show you how proud I am of you?” Steve full on shudders at that, his mouth drops in a soft gasp and his hands push up into Eddie’s hair. “Eddie…” “I am, Stevie. So proud of you, my baby.” He leans in and presses a kiss to Steve’s jersey-covered sternum. “Tell me what you want, princess. Anything, and it’s yours.”
what's mine is yours (to leave or take) - M, 8.2k, complete @thefreakandthehair | througheden
tags: modern au, baker eddie, nurse steve, waitress-inspired, getting together
Eddie's an amateur baker who desperately needs a healthy dose of hope. He finds it in the bottom of a pie dish and the hands of Steve Harrington.
Tax Time - T, 922, complete @simplebtromance
tags: modern au, established relationship, domestic fluff, competence kink, appalachian eddie
Eddie throwing his hair back into a hair clip he stole from Chrissy, face determined as he opened up his laptop on their coffee table, that used to be his Memaw's, and got the binder of bills and receipts out to do his and Steve's taxes. (He still feels gooey and not very metal when he sees Steve Munson on any paperwork or mail, they've been married for over 3 years now and he doesn't think it's gonna stop any time soon)
group hangout - E, 3.3k, complete plutorose
tags: modern au, college au, dom/sub, first time
When Steve and Eddie start seeing each other, Robin meets Eddie's roommate for the first time.
A Little Show - E, 4.1k, complete ItCanBePalped
tags: exhibitionism, pre-threesome, dom/sub
Chrissy and Robin can't wait to get their hands on each other. Unfortunately, the room they find is already occupied. Or maybe that's "fortunately".
BABY SAID - E, 3.8k, complete dartlekey
tags: t4t steddie, transmasc eddie, transmasc steve, college au, bathtub sex, scissoring
Drenched by a sudden downpour and locked out of the youth hostel they were supposed to be staying at, university students Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson find themselves unwittingly and very much against their will trapped in night-time Rome together, and sharing a cramped hotel room. And a bathtub. Things kind of escalate from there.
Love from the other side - M, 6.2k, complete @sidekick-hero
tags: modern au, nurse steve, vampire eddie
In his mind Steve goes over the things he knows. Eddie is a vampire. A vampire who killed another vampire to save Steve’s life. To save Chrissy’s life. Eddie is dying. He may already be dead, but it looks like vampires can die again. Permanently. Eddie wants his blood.
the devil's water, it ain't so sweet - E, WIP hesjustlikemefr
tags: modern au, sugar daddy eddie, sugar baby steve, transmasc steve, slowburn, age difference
After Steve's parents cut him off financially, Robin comes up with a brilliant plan for Steve to be able to pay his bills. SweetShoppe, the most professional sugaring app on the market. Steve is skeptical, until he comes across the profile of Eddie Munson, a music producer and the hottest guy Steve has ever seen. Maybe this wasn't the worst idea after all…
like rabbits - E, WIP crybaby
tags: alpha eddie, omega steve, daddy kink, dom/sub, established relationship, pussy drunk eddie
Steve shaves his pussy and dresses up as a Playboy Bunny. Eddie handles it well.
usa hockey is do or die - E, 4k, complete @steddieas-shegoes
tags: hockey au, dom/sub, established relationship
“Everyone expects a lot from Team USA captain Steve Harrington and his first alternate, Tommy Hagan, but everyone’s a bit shocked at the choice for second alternate. What do you have to say about Eddie Munson being the pick, Jack?” Steve already felt anger bubbling under his skin, the annoyance of the last few weeks finally reaching a boiling point. “Well, we all know he’s one of the best goalies out there, but it’s rare to see a goalie with an A or C. I’ll be honest, I was surprised he was chosen over Gareth Emerson, who showed us three shutouts in the last month at Boston University. Eddie’s been proving himself in the AHL, but I don’t think he’s got what it takes to get the boys to gold. I hope I’m proven wrong, but his careless attitude makes me think he isn’t leading these boys to a victory they want.” The tv in the hotel room snapped off and Steve stood up, pacing the carpeted floors with his fists clenched at his sides and a scowl.
driver roll up the partition please - E, 4.5k, complete @steddieas-shegoes
tags: modern au, rockstar eddie, bartender steve, semi-public sex, light dom/sub
The bow tie around Steve’s neck was choking him. It had to be made for children, but when he’d asked one of the waiters before they went on the floor, he shrugged and said they all were like that. But the lack of oxygen to his brain didn’t excuse the way he nearly dropped a glass of a half-shaken, half-stirred -yes, really- martini when the hottest man he’d ever seen walked up to the bar. He was chatting with a few people, smiling at them like he was truly happy to see them even though he was dressed like someone who was crashing the party. Steve had done a few events like this before and was never disappointed with the eye candy, but this guy was something else. His curls were perfectly maintained, falling just right along his shoulders. Did they say the hair was the curtain to the soul or was he just that enamored?
steve tells eddie about his fight with billy - T, 4.6k, complete @solarmorrigan
tags: post-s2, canon racism and violence, mentions of drug use
“Motherfucker,” he hisses, shaking his hand out, because it had hurt, and then he winds up to do it again, to make it hurt more, because at least he’s in control of that much, at least it’s anything but what he’s feeling right now. “That’s a good way to break your hand, y’know,” a voice comes from the doorway, startling Steve into pivoting and aiming his fist at whoever is coming after him now.
doesn't have to be anything, but i could be everything - E, 4.1k, complete | part 2 @steddieas-shegoes
tags: camboy steve, rockstar eddie, modern au, daddy kink, dom/sub
Steve being a content creator ( cosplay, streamer, YouTuber, onlyfans, webcam boy, illustrator anything in that ballpark) that keeps on getting these messages and blocks them only to be accosted at a convention by this person and Eddie being a low key fan or what ever randomly stepping up to help out
first kiss - T, complete @mcdynamite
tags: first kiss, pet names, getting together, fluff
Kissing has never done all that much for Steve, if he’s honest. It’s just not really something he’s ever given much thought to before - the way someone kisses - despite the fact that he’s locked lips with plenty of people. For him, kissing has always been something nice, but not particularly special. It’s never been earth-shattering. Never taken his breath away, the way people talk about in movies and books. It’s just a way to be closer to someone, and it’s nice, but it’s never anything more than that. Then, Steve kisses Eddie for the first time, and suddenly he gets it.
Good Morning, Daddy - E, 906, complete unholy_forest
tags: dom/sub, morning sex, daddy kink
A short and sweet oneshot of loving, sleepy morning sex between Steve and Eddie.
girls of your dreams (you know what i mean) - E, 2/2, complete @maxineholtzmann
tags: figure skating au, hockey au, threesome, established ronance
The two of them continued, kissing quietly. Chrissy wondered how far she could let this go before they realized she was awake. She ached to touch herself, listening to the panting and low moans now coming from the other bed. Fuck it. Chrissy rolled onto her back and Robin and Nancy froze. She looked over at them, Robin on top of Nancy, pinning her hands above her head. The kissing sounds Chrissy had heard were clearly actually Robin working on Nancy’s nipples with her mouth–both of the cups of the negligee had been pulled down leaving breasts exposed. Chrissy sighed. Slowly moving her hand down her body between her legs she said, “You don’t have to stop as long as I don’t have to stop.” Chrissy started circling her clit with her fingers, arching her back. “Are you sure?” Nancy asked, still panting. “Does it look like I’m not sure?” Chrissy said, using her other hand to fling the blankets back, spreading her legs and making sure Robin and Nancy could see where her hand had traveled.
Your Love Calls Me Home - T, 1.8k, complete @simplebtromance
tags: modern au, long distance relationship, online dating
Steve and Eddie have been in a long distance relationship for three years, and they're finally meeting.
Buckingham revenge program™ - E, series, WIP thequeermoon
tags: oral sex, strap-on sex, dirty talk, semi-public sex
It was all murmurs and unsteady breaths between them, and they barely touched. Outside the door the group laughed suddenly, startling the both of them. Just then they realized how close they were. Just a little step and their bodies would've touched. "Right, okay… " Robin coughed a bit, going slightly backwards. " …do you want to-" She didn’t get to finish that sentence. Chrissy, in full panic of losing the only chance she might have, threw herself at her lips, kissing her. It lasted so little that Robin had no chance to answer it, but it felt like eons. Chrissy opened her eyes, watching at her. Her cold hands on her face, her lips red, slightly parted to show these little teeth Robin thought were so endearing.
Swift Wings and a Brave Heart - T, WIP @paperbackribs
tags: werewolf steve, bat eddie, shapeshifting, found family
The beast stops, gaze narrowing at the pulse pounding in Eddie’s neck, and he quickly slaps a hand over it, trying to limit the temptation of the tasty-blood slash fresh-meat vibe he must be giving off. Robin scowls at Eddie, stepping forward to bury her hand comfortingly into the plush of its furry neck. “Don’t listen to him, Steve. He’s just being a big baby." Eddie has never been a normal type of guy, but he's owned it: he's a gay metalhead in the heart of small-town America and nothing's going to phase him. Nothing except being told that his recent demo-bat injuries might turn him into a shapeshifter like Steve Harrington.
safe and warm - E, 958, complete @steddieas-shegoes
tags: dom/sub, cock warming, pet names, coming untouched
Steve on his knees was a sight he would never get tired of. Something about the way his eyes closed, a rare sign of relaxation spreading over him, made Eddie wish he could be like this all the time, that they could always be like this.
new year's kiss - G, complete @steddieas-shegoes
tags: new year's eve kiss, getting together, pining
He hides in the bathroom, looks at his reflection in the mirror and tries to smile. He used to be so confident, used to be able to tell himself to make a move and make it successfully. But it used to not matter, not like this does. No one has ever mattered the way Eddie does.
first choice - G, complete @steddiealltheway
tags: nye, getting together, pining
Steve runs a hand through his hair and turns back to his abandoned stack of tapes only to turn back around as soon as the bell above the door rings. He turns around with a heavy sigh as soon as he realizes who it is. "Great to see you too," Eddie says with a humorless laugh. Robin cuts in before Steve can. "Don't take it personally. He's just unsuccessful in his mission to woo a lady and get a New Year's kiss." "Really?" Eddie asks, leaning across the counter. "I think I'm coming across as desperate." "Because you are," Robin adds unhelpfully.
holes on the house - M, 404, complete @cranberrymoons
tags: modern au, meet cute, food truck owner steve
There it is: a bright pink truck with an open side, glittering under the streetlight with a loose line of people waiting to order, The Hole printed on the side in white stylized script.
alpha/omega true mates - G, complete @stevieschrodinger
tags: omegaverse, alpha eddie, omega steve, true mates, canon divergence
Eddie, fucking excited as all hell to meet his Omega finally, opens his envelope to find Steve Harrington's name starring back at him and Eddie just. He just can't. Steve's one of the biggest bitches at Hawkins high. And even if Eddie can, sort of, get past that, Steve's a snob. He lives in a fucking mansion and has a nice car and preppy clothes and yeah...Eddie is going to get rejected stone cold and that would be fair because he doesn't have a single thing to offer and Omega like Harrington. Eddie burns the envelope.
henderfam - G, complete @loveinhawkins
tags: canon divergence, eddie lives, steve and dustin behaving like brothers, pre-steddie
God, I love you, Eddie thinks. Maybe some would say that’s too big a declaration to have even in his own head for a mundane, sleep deprived afternoon in hospital. He doesn’t care.
play nice - M, 387, complete @wormdebut
tags: daddy kink, dom/sub, possessive eddie
Eddie has died and gone to Heaven. (If that Heaven is covered in leather and latex…that’s his business.) This is the only explanation, he thinks, as he stares at his boyfriend. His very hot, very muscular, very unclothed boyfriend. Decked out in only a strappy harness and the sluttiest little leather shorts Eddie has ever seen.
need - E, 404, complete @wormdebut
tags: dom/sub, anal fingering, hot boys whimpering
His eyes flick all over Steve’s perfect fucking body, stopping to admire that beautiful cock. “Christ—I’m gonna tear you apart.” His eyes snap up to look into Steve’s perfect blown out ones. He’s perfect, Eddie’s boy.
bake off - G, complete @hairmetal666
tags: gbbo au, baker steve, rockstar eddie, tv host eddie
Steve who goes on a Bake Off type show after Robin, Dustin, and Max set him up as a contestant. He doesn't want to, doesn't think baking or cooking should be stressful, but he's been wallowing since his knee surgery took him out of work and basketball, since his divorce. His first day on set, he's totally gobsmacked by the sexy host with all the tattoos and long, curly hair. Just, cannot take his eyes off the guy, blushing and stammering whenever he comes around to do interviews, obviously can't stop starring.
talk it through - G, complete @strangersteddierthings
tags: established relationship, insecurities, future fic
“I think we should break up,” is what Eddie blurts the moment Steve opens the front door to reveal him. Steve’s first reaction is anger -how dare he?- but he doesn’t do anything with that anger. Instead, he takes a deep breath through his nose, crosses his arms, and looks Eddie over. He’s breathing heavily yet his van is parked along the curb. He didn’t run here. His hair, while never tame, looks rougher. He is fidgeting but in a nervous way, not his usual too much energy way. His eyes are wide and scared. It’s the last bit there that drains Steve’s anger. Something’s happened. He drops his arms and says, “well, you’re not dumping me on my porch. Get in here.”
frat steve - G, complete @strangersatellites
tags: college au, established relationship, frat steve
when he gets there he’s met with two guys, freshman surely. letters emblazoned across their cutoff muscle tees and hats turned backwards and perched, very stupidly if eddie shares his piece, atop their heads. they stop him with a hand up and friendly smiles and mock bravado “three actives,” bro number one states. eddie barely holds back an incredulous laugh. “you cannot be serious.”
flirting - T, complete @jewishrat420
tags: pining, pet names, flirting, "first of all my name is baby so jot that down"
"Don't call me that." He chances a look over at Eddie, at the risk of appearing as vulnerable as he feels, and to his distress, he can't get a read on the man. His dark eyebrows furrow, brown eyes squinting slightly, and his lips part like he wants to speak. He licks them. Steve's eyes follow the motion unintentionally. "Call you what?" Eddie says on an exhale. "A brat?" Steve shakes his head. "Harrington. Don't like it when you call me that."
kink discovery - M, complete @eddywoww
tags: hair pulling, dom/sub, getting together
He touches him the second time. When they’re all hanging out and the lights are low and Steve does it again and Robin only halfway gives him a weird look. It doesn’t stop Steve form blinking tired eyes up at Eddie, watching the way he gulps and hovers a hand over Steve’s face. “I like when people pet my hair,” He says unhelpfully, so high he can barely concentrate. Eddie makes a soft noise and blinks down at him. “You should- you should do that.”
cherry - M, complete @eddywoww
tags: omegaverse, tattoo artist eddie, alpha eddie, omega steve, age difference
And then he gets into Eddie’s studio and like- okay, Steve has always had a type. Older men, men who wore suits, men who worked with his father. Unattainable, already mated. Steve sort of assumes this guy is mated too. He looks like it, has a bite that’s weirdly faded on his neck. But Steve can’t smell an Omega on him. Or a Beta or an Alpha. No one. So sue him if he gets a little flirty. It fuels his self esteem, knowing they can look but he won’t let them touch.
eddie lives - T, complete @bonitabreezy
tags: canon divergence, steve carries eddie out of the upside down, eddie lives (but not without consequence)
Any part of him that had leaned into the idea that it was over and that they were safe was immediately washed away at the sound. His blood started to zing with adrenaline once more and he became hyper aware of everything around them, scanning the trees for danger. “Was that--” Nancy started, her shoulders a hard line, her hands no longer shaking. “Dustin,” Steve said, and he took off running.
4+1 - G, complete @steddieas-shegoes
tags: 5+1, steve carries eddie, eddie carries steve, eddie recovering from the bites
four times eddie gets carried and one time he does the carrying
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the-fallen-stones · 6 months ago
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I am bad at hiding. If you are my friend, you might recognize me. For that, I apologize.
You may call me anything you like. I enjoy and encourage nicknames. But if you need a name, Mica works.
If you would like me to write something for you, you can request it, and I will if I can. It may not be immediately. But I will try.
A warning, my descriptions can sometimes be graphic, or a little violent. It is usually metaphorical, though, don't worry.
I like both storm and calm. Chaos and comfort. I enjoy things that invoke thought, or creativity. I love hugs, snuggles, animals (especially dragons and cats), tea, fiction, and poetry.
Please do not bring up politics here. It's not that I don't care. But I've anguished myself enough over them and honestly, I need a break.
Never assume hostility! It was probably an accident. My tone comes across weird sometimes.
Tags:
#storm's eye - things that strike me, and I'd like to come back to.
#mica speaks - anything original, by me.
#mica reblogs - empty reblogs.
#mica elaborates - reblogs that are not empty.
#mica rambles - I have rambled.
#mica rhymes - my poetry.
#mika doodles - my art.
#mika's music - my favorite songs.
#mica recites - my favorite poems or stories.
#mika inquires - I ask questions.
#mika responds - I answer questions.
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Credit for the image goes to @poetryforall.
My wonderful mutuals:
@kimu-dem - Keeper of comfort.
@thatrando13 - The wanderer.
@carrotsinnovember - A gentle friend.
@hersurvival - Blanket fort against thunder and snowstorms.
@caustic-splines - Writer of old love letters.
@abiethewizardduck
@randomshowerpoems - The wise wordsmith.
@poemsofanentomologist
@galaxys-universe
@literaryvein - The bright storm outside.
@same-skies
These titles can always change, as I know you better. If you'd like me to use a different one I certainly can.
Some of my favorite songs are;
One Day You Will Fly Too, by Aimee Carty,
Come Along, Does the Swallow Dream of Flying?, Egg and Soldiers, Pelicans We, Half Past Three, Run, and Linger Longer, by Cosmo Sheldrake,
Glow in the Dark by Vian Izak,
Rush of Life, My Neighbor's Car Alarm, Desire, and Rain, by Tony Ann. (Classical.)
Experience, Fly, and Eros, by Ludovico Einaudi. (Classical.)
Ilomilo by Billie Eilish,
Two, Sun, Eight, and Light by Sleeping at Last,
Big Black Car and San Luis by Gregory Alan Isakov,
Passing Through by Kaden MacKay,
The Mountain Song, Be Nobody, and Better is the End, by TopHouse,
Changing Days, Irish Eyes, I Can Never Give my Heart, and Rocket, by Rose Betts,
The Sound of Silence, by Simon and Garfunkel,
Walking in the Air, Time, Orinoco Flow, and Carol of the Bells, by Libera,
And many more.
Some of my favorite poems are;
Tug'o'War of Heartstrings, The Night Sky, Together, With a Window Between, A Heavy Wait/Weight, A Veil Not Yet There, Sharks in a Zoo, A Faustian Deal, Denial, The Voice of a Loved One, Explosions, Tribute to the Ocean, The Vast Expanse of the Ocean, Nurturing, Stalagmites in my Brain, and How Can I Put Those Boxes Away? by The Shower Poet,
Fire and Ice, and Walking by Woods on a Snowy Evening, by Robert Frost,
The Sunshine Kid, Paper People, and 59, by Harry Baker,
The Spider, by Robert P. Tristam Coffin,
Run With You, by Atlas,
A Litany, by Gregory Orr,
Landscape with a Blur of Conquerors, and Details of the Woods, by Richard Silken.
And many more.
Some of my favorite books are;
The Chronicles of Narnia, by C. S. Lewis,
Breadcrumbs, by Anne Ursu,
Ella Minnow Pea, by Mark Dunn,
Holes, Wayside School, Small Steps, and There's a Boy in the Girl's Bathroom, by Lois Sachar.
Hoot, Scat, Flush, and Chomp, by Carl Hiaasen.
Where the Mountain Meets the Moon, Starry River of the Sky, and When the Sea Turned to Silver, by Grace Lin.
And oh, so very many more.
Poems I have written;
Teach Me, Silent Serenade, Space Can Die, Weak Resolve, Boundaries Drawn, The Candle, Vacuum, One Pace, Adventure With Me, Stagnant, Workaholic, Sirens Can Cry, Dreamt of Loss, The Chalkboard, Shush, and many more to come.
Once was a girl, who would talk to herself. Stories, tales, thoughts in passing, of the past, future, of the sky and leaves, wind and breeze, of storm and calm. She longed to speak in a cadence. One to soothe. To heal. Doesn't everyone want that, to heal? To be somebody to someone, to have a voice like an anchor, eyes like a vice, that soften, that go warm like a bird's shelter?
Storm seeks calm. Calm seeks storm. They find a balance. But never, never do they stay still. She couldn't stay still. Her mind was a hurricane. And sometimes a breeze, sometimes a song to put you at ease, and sometimes, tight, coiled like a spring.
The calm wasn't who she was. Nor was she as much of the storm as she thought she was. Dear, she was a fire. She'd dim, and grow brighter. Her voice would get high when excited, she'd smile. Her embers couldn't rest. She'd smoulder. Then big stewing pots would bubble over. She'd speak in paragraphs, eyes like beacons, stumbling over words and not always making sense...
But it was beautiful. She loved, she loved deeply. She wanted to be loved, too. And she was. But when the smoke gets high, water and frost meeting that bright smile all too many times, it blurs out the hands, hearts, the words reaching, seeking...
She was silenced. Of course, the embers still burned. But the very things she stifled were the things she was beloved for. And she couldn't hear them.
But slowly, wet wood dries, my dear. You can't always cry. Time passes by. Wounds heal, scars fade, even when clouds pass over the stars. She was stronger than that.
She learned again to love. And though she had times she couldn't muster the songs, the words, the strength to hold on so tight, she began to heal.
Please, my dear, have patience. She is still healing.
Burnout is a dangerous thing. If you are stuck it never eases, never ceases. And things that brought you peace are no less, then, but grievous. It feels like Sisyphus himself is in charge of pulling you out of that rut. My dear, he can't.
The world moves so fast... I can't help but be dizzy. The facts and the future, like stones, whizzing, past my head, I bustle, I catch them, I'm busy...
The earth turns fast but not as fast as my head. Live, die. Fireflies. On my deathbed. I crave a rest, but I get anger instead. For injustice, for fury, the memories I shed...
Give my hands to the stars, fire for every digit. They fall from the sky when in darkness I fidget. Tear through the clouds, but then cry when I can't fix it. My brain is a void and...
I just.
Can't.
Bridge it.
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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 28 days ago
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Matt Davies :: Shirk. http://Newsday.com/matt
* * * *
LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN
November 24, 2024
Heather Cox Richardson
Nov 25, 2024
Since the night of the November 5, election, Trump and his allies have insisted that he won what Trump called “an unprecedented and powerful mandate.” But as the numbers have continued to come in, it’s clear that such a declaration is both an attempt to encourage donations— fundraising emails refer to Trump’s “LANDSLIDE VICTORY”—and an attempt to create the illusion of power to push his agenda. 
The reality is that Trump’s margin over Democratic nominee Vice President Kamala Harris will likely end up around 1.5 points. According to James M. Lindsay, writing for the Council of Foreign Relations, it is the fifth smallest since 1900, which covers 32 presidential races. Exit polls showed that Trump’s favorability rating was just 48% and that more voters chose someone other than Trump. And, as Lindsay points out, Trump fell 4 million votes short of President Joe Biden in 2020. 
Political science professor Lynn Vavreck of the University of California, Los Angeles, told Peter Baker of the New York Times: “If the definition of landslide is you win both the popular vote and Electoral College vote, that’s a new definition” On the other hand, she added, “Nobody gains any kind of influence by going out and saying, ‘I barely won, and now I want to do these big things.’”
Trump’s allies are indeed setting out to do big things, and they are big things that are unpopular. 
Trump ran away from Project 2025 during the campaign because it was so unpopular. He denied he knew anything about it, calling it “ridiculous and abysmal,” and on September 16 the leader of Trump’s transition team, Howard Lutnick, said there were “Absolutely zero. No connection. Zero” ties between the team and Project 2025. Now, though, Trump has done an about-face and has said he will nominate at least five people associated with Project 2025 to his administration. 
Those nominees include Russell Vought, one of the project's key authors, who calls for dramatically increasing the powers of the president; Tom Homan, who as acting director of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) oversaw the separation of children from their parents; John Ratcliffe, whom the Senate refused in 2019 to confirm as Director of National Intelligence because he had no experience in intelligence; Brendan Carr, whom Trump wants to put at the head of the Federal Communications Commission and who is already trying to silence critics by warning he will punish broadcasters who Trump feels have been unfair to him; and Stephen Miller, the fervently anti-immigrant ideologue.
Project 2025 calls for the creation of an extraordinarily strong president who will gut the civil service and replace its nonpartisan officials with those who are loyal to the president. It calls for filling the military and the Department of Justice with those loyal to the president. And then, the project plans that with his new power, the president will impose Christian nationalism on the United States of America, ending immigration, and curtailing rights for LGBTQ+ individuals as well as women and racial and ethnic minorities.
Project 2025 was unpopular when people learned about it. 
And then there is the threat of dramatic cuts to the U.S. government, suggested by the so-called “Department of Government Efficiency,” or DOGE, headed by billionaires Elon Musk and Vivek Ramaswamy. They are calling for cuts of $2 trillion to the items in the national budget that provide a safety net for ordinary Americans at the same time that Trump is promising additional tax cuts for the wealthy and corporations. Musk, meanwhile, is posturing as if he is the actual president, threatening on Saturday, for example: “Those who break the law will be arrested and that includes mayors.”  
On Meet the Press today, current representative and senator-elect Adam Schiff (D-CA) reacted to the “dictator talk,” with which Trump is threatening his political opponents, pointing out that "[t]he American people…voted on the basis of the economy—they wanted change to the economy—they weren’t voting for dictatorship. So I think he is going to misread his mandate if that’s what he thinks voters chose him for.”
That Trump and his team are trying desperately to portray a marginal victory as a landslide in order to put an extremist unpopular agenda into place suggests another dynamic at work. 
For all Trump’s claims of power, he is a 78-year-old man who is declining mentally and who neither commands a majority of voters nor has shown signs of being able to transfer his voters to a leader in waiting. 
Trump’s team deployed Vice President–elect J.D. Vance to the Senate to drum up votes for the confirmation of Florida representative Matt Gaetz to become the United States attorney general. But Vance has only been in the Senate since 2022 and is not noticeably popular. He—and therefore Trump—was unable to find the votes the wildly unqualified Gaetz needed for confirmation, forcing him to withdraw his name from consideration. 
The next day, Gaetz began to advertise on Cameo, an app that allows patrons to commission a personalized video for fans, asking a minimum of $550.00 for a recording. Gaetz went from United States representative to Trump’s nominee for U.S. attorney general to making videos for Cameo in a little over a week. 
It is a truism in studying politics that it’s far more important to follow power than it is to follow people. Right now, there is a lot of power sloshing around in Washington, D.C. 
Trump is trying to convince the country that he has scooped up all that power. But in fact, he has won reelection by less than 50% of the vote, and his vice president is not popular. The policies Trump is embracing are so unpopular that he himself ran away from them when he was campaigning. And now he has proposed filling his administration with a number of highly unqualified figures who, knowing the only reason they have been elevated is that they are loyal to Trump, will go along with his worst instincts. With that baggage, it is not clear he will be able to cement enough power to bring his plans to life.
If power remains loose, it could get scooped up by cabinet officials, as it was during a similarly chaotic period in the 1920s. In that era, voters elected to the presidency former newspaperman and Republican backbencher Warren G. Harding of Ohio, who promised to return the country to “normalcy” after eight years of the presidency of Democrat Woodrow Wilson and the nation’s engagement in World War I. That election really was a landslide, with Harding and his running mate, Calvin Coolidge, winning more than 60% of the popular vote in 1920.
But Harding was badly out of his depth in the presidency and spent his time with cronies playing bridge and drinking upstairs at the White House—despite Prohibition—while corrupt members of his administration grabbed all they could. 
With such a void in the executive branch, power could have flowed to Congress. But after twenty years of opposing first Theodore Roosevelt, and then William Howard Taft, and then Woodrow Wilson, Congress had become adept at opposing presidents but had split into factions that made it unable to transition to using power, rather than opposing its use.
And so power in that era flowed to members of Harding’s Cabinet, primarily to Treasury Secretary Andrew Mellon and Secretary of Commerce Herbert Hoover, who put into place a fervently pro-business government that continued after Harding’s untimely death into the presidency of Calvin Coolidge, who made little effort to recover the power Harding had abandoned. After Hoover became president and their system fell to ruin in the Great Depression, Franklin Delano Roosevelt took their lost power and used it to create a new type of government. 
In this moment, Trump’s people are working hard to convince Americans that they have gathered up all the power in Washington, D.C., but that power is actually still sloshing around. Trump is trying to force through the Senate a number of unqualified and dangerous nominees for high-level positions, threatening Republican senators that if they don’t bow to him, Elon Musk will fund primary challengers, or suggesting he will push them into recess so he can appoint his nominees without their constitutionally-mandated advice and consent. 
But Trump and his people do not, in fact, have a mandate. Trump is old and weak, and power is up for grabs. It is possible that MAGA Republicans will, in the end, force Republican senators into their camp, permitting Trump and his cronies to do whatever they wish. 
It is also possible that Republican senators will themselves take back for Congress the power that has lately concentrated in presidents, check the most dangerous and unpopular of Trump’s plans, and begin the process of restoring the balance of the three branches of government.
LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN
HEATHER COX RICHARDSON
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act-nat-ural · 8 months ago
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Occupied
Chapter Two: The Identity Crisis
(if you want to be added to the tag list lmk!)
chapter 1 \\\ chapter 3
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You feel your blood turn to ice. It wasn’t just dumb luck that brought these men to your door, it was a thought-out destination. You narrow your eyes at the man, suspicious of his tone.
“I’m the one who should be asking you that, sir. I’m house-sitting for him. Now, what the hell are You doing here?” You say impatiently. It was easy to forget that they were intruding on you due to the commotion of the bleeding man on your table, yet you remember that they haven’t even properly introduced themselves nor explained their presence.
Two of the men make eye contact with each other, the other nodding in some type of confirmation. The one you were speaking to, the one with the facial hair, raises a single eyebrow at you.
“Enough of the intimidation, miss. It's not going to work with me, so let's drop it and have a civil conversation. Now, if we were to phone Mr. Baker would he confirm your story?”
Ohhhh shit.
No, no he wouldn’t. He doesn’t know you are here, he thinks Eliza is the one house-sitting. You would try to explain the situation but you aren’t sure that these men would believe you. Should you lie? No, you’re almost certain you would get caught in a lie. You can feel the sweat dripping down your neck. You need to think of something and quickly.
You decide the best course of action is to tell the truth. Technically, you haven’t done anything wrong. You still haven’t forgotten that you don’t even know why you have your explain yourself to these men, but you will get your answers soon enough. You must’ve taken too long to get your thoughts in order because by the time you get ready to speak the man in front of you is looking awfully impatient.
“No. No, Adam doesn’t know I’m here.” You state, slowly and concisely. He narrows his eyes at you and goes to speak but you cut him off. You explain the situation and how his sister said you could stay there in her stead, how you are a friend of the family. You look around while you speak, not wishing to gaze straight into his scrutinizing glare. That’s when it catches your eye.
Aha.
You grin and step around him, careful not to walk into the small blood puddle that’s formed on the floor. Damn, you weren’t looking forward to cleaning that up. You reach the wall on the opposite side of the room and snatch the picture frame straight off the shelf. Universal Studios, 2019. Eliza’s family had taken pity on you due to your not having been before and brought you along on their trip. Luckily, there was photo evidence.
“Here.” You hand the framed photo to him, pointing at your grainy face. “That’s me.” He visibly relaxes and hands you the photograph back.
“Sorry for the interrogation, love. You can never be too sure about these types of things.” He apologizes, appearing to be sincere. He’s softened up considerably since you confirmed who you were.
“Thas’ it? She could still be a bloody stalker, cap. Breakin’ into the poor man’s home or somethin’. Lass seems to be the type.” The man on the table slurs out. You scoff. What the hell is wrong with these people? Where are their goddamn manners?
“Listen, buddy, I am most certainly not a stalker. And I’m not the one who’s laying on someone else’s table bleeding out, and not saying why they’re here!” You exclaim, exasperated.
“‘m not bleeding out anymore, hen.” He grins wolfishly, gesturing to his stitches. “Glad to ken you care about little ol’ me.” You just huff and roll your eyes in response. 
“Is someone going to clean that up? Because I don’t think it should have to be me.” You ask, referring to the mess on the tiles. “Also, you still haven’t said your names and what you are doing here.”
The man that the others refer to as captain sighs and nods. “Alright. We’ll explain. Could you show ‘im where you keep the bleach?” He asks of you, nodding his head to the masked man. Jesus, you almost forgot about him. It was hard not to with how quiet he was.
You nod silently and head to the laundry room out towards the back of the house. He follows closely and silently, not attempting to make any type of small talk. You bring him to the cabinet containing the cleaning fluids.
“I’m not exactly sure where it is, I haven’t needed it yet.” You explain a little shyly. He just nods and gets on his knees, searching the small cabinet. You almost don’t notice the blood seeping out of his upper thigh, eyes widening in realization.
“Oh my god! I can get it, just sit down!” He pauses for a moment before listening, sitting off to the side. You find and grab the bleach, quickly closing the cabinet doors. You face him and say, “I’ll go fetch your friend with the first aid kit, alright? Just… don’t bleed on the floor.” He does nothing but grunt in confirmation.
You speed walk down the hallway, bleach in hand. You wouldn’t normally be in such a hurry but you aren’t exactly sure how long his leg wound has been open for. However, when you reach the door to the dining room you hesitate. You can hear the others having a heated discussion in the other room.
“Captain, please listen to me. Telling her our names could have serious consequences. What if someone were to get a hold of her and question her? No offense, but the girl doesn’t look like she can keep a secret.” You hear one voice plead. Offense taken.
“Gaz, I hear you, but she’s seen our faces already. We knew the risks heading here and we did so anyway. Besides, don’t think we’ll be leaving here so quickly. Soap isn’t going anyway with that gash in ‘im and we both know Ghost had a hole in his leg.”
Soap? Ghost? Gaz? What the hell are these names?
You are about to interrupt when you feel the familiar sensation of someone staring and burning into the back of your head. You turn and see nothing but black. You crane your neck up and see a skull staring down at you.
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redfurrycat · 1 year ago
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🤠🥐☕🐓Bakery & Coffee Shop AU Fic Recs🐓☕🥐🤠
(Includes B, CS and the lovely combo of the two)
(May also include AUs close to B and CS but not quite)
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Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕
Ao3 Authors: Bahjrc, Curapick, Dalearden, Dandeliondick, Emseebeans, Fuddlewuddle, Greenstuff, Haridwar, Infinitejaust, Nimuetheseawitch, SunMonTue, Winterbucky, Xo_em.
Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor AU > Mechanic AU > Chef, Bartender & Waiter
Can I take you to go? by Fuddlewuddle {E}
/☕/
Jake Seresin only went into the coffee shop to get a drink. He didn't expect to meet the love of his life.
The Way to a Man's Heart by dalearden {T}
/☕/
Jake Seresin is a pilot, currently on medical leave from Naval duty as he recovers from injuries sustatined in an ejection during a training exercise. He's grumpy and bored when he takes a chance on a random coffee shop on a rainy afternoon and meets one Bradley Bradshaw, manager and possibly world's best barista. Bradley wastes no time taking such a pretty broken bird under his wing, winning Jake over through pastries and charm and also by being insanely hot. Then therer's an attempted robbery on the premises, and everything accelerates.
The Color of Malibu Blue by curapick {G}
/☕/
Or, simply put, I've liked you long enough to remember all your likings and hope to make them right for you only to bring a smile to your face. But no, I won’t tell you all these… at least not just yet, Bradley mutters to himself. or - in which Barista Bradley's secretly in love with his blond customer with blue-green eyes without him knowing... until one day.
A Brand New Start of It by xo_em {E}
/☕/
“When you asked me out for coffee I didn’t think you’d be the one making it.”
lover be good to me by haridwar {M}
/🥐☕/
Jake picks a random coffee shop to go be pensive in when he receives a birthday card he doesn't want and things turn out better than he ever could have imagined
Extra Hot by greenstuff {E}
/☕/
Of course it’s Extra-Hot-Means-180 Degrees guy, in his absurdly tight black Las Vegas Fire and Rescue t-shirt with his abysmal personal mug that never fails to rub off a smudge of permanent marker onto Jake’s palm once it’s hot. And it’s always Jake’s palm because of course Las Vegas’ hottest man insists that only Jake makes his triple grande blonde latte (extra hot) correctly. Features flirting via coffee cup, hand holding, rock climbing, and a daring rescue.
a spoonful of sugar (helps the medicine go down) by bahjrc {G}
/🥐☕/
Bradley Bradshaw is a tired college student coming home for summer break. All he wants to do is come home, catch up on sleep, help his family's business and maybe figure out what the hell he's going to do with his life. He's not expecting a mysterious man and his weird cat that just moved into the apartment down the street to become a thing in his life. And he's definitely not expecting that golden cat to be such a pain on his ass.
31 Flavors and Counting by infinitejaust {G}
 /🍦/
Jake has a terrible sweet tooth. He doesn’t indulge it much - you don’t get to have great abs and dessert every day. But there's something about that little concessions stand down the beach... For the prompt: Meet-cute at the beach! Bradley works at an ice cream shop and meets lifeguard Jake.
Baker Bradley by nimuetheseawitch {T}{G}
/🥐/
Bradley owns a bakery. Jake can't sleep. They meet in the hours before dawn when only bakers and insomniacs are awake.
The Roost by SunMonTue {T}
/🥐/
The Dagger Squadron have put Jake in charge of organizing a cake for Mav's 60th birthday and retirement celebration. Little does he know he's about to ask Mav's son to make it.
Jake's Cakes by SunMonTue {T}
/🥐/
Iceman has tasked Bradley with organising Maverick's 60th birthday cake. This goes as planned until Mav decides to be a gremlin.
coffee court dates by winterbucky {T}
/☕/
An assignment in a coffee shop isn't what Special Agent Bradshaw dreamed about, but it's not half-bad. The only downside (aside from the mafia meetings that take place there) is a particular blonde mafia member who can't seem to take a hint that Bradley is not interested Though, it turns out, that maybe it's not all as it seems and it's Bradley who can't take a hint or coffee shop au with special agents and mafia (but not really) and stupid bradley who should really learn to read assignment files
The Need for Caffeine by dandeliondick {E}
/☕/
The man was tall, taller than Jake’s 6’, with chestnut curls and dark eyes. Even the porn-stache he had was attractive much to Jake’s dismay. He wore a tight black shirt which was straining against his shoulders and pulled taut around his frankly obscene biceps. Jake had the insane thought that he wanted to climb the guy like a tree and lick those disheveled curls. Jake startled realizing he was staring, “I heard you in the back, figured I would wait. Didn’t mind prolonging my payout.” Those dark eyes sparkled with mischief, reminding him of Maverick, “You must be Hangman.” - When Jake loses a bet against Maverick, his payout is coffee with a side of paternal scheming. Bradley never joined the Navy, instead opening a coffee shop and Jake is...well still Jake...but when the blonde gets himself into trouble he is grounded. But what happens when his punishment is up? Flying away is so much harder when the ground is where you want to be.
found you at the goose nest by emseebeans {T}
/☕/
The morning of his first day of classes, Jake runs out of coffee. It feels like an omen for the rest of the semester, until it leads him to a coffee shop where he meets Bradley Bradshaw, a hot, albeit infuriating, barista. He keeps Jake coming back, even though he never makes what Jake orders. (or, five times Bradley makes Jake the wrong drink, and the one time he makes Jake exactly what he wants.)
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rc-catalog · 5 months ago
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🖊️: fanfiction; 🖼️: moodboard; 🎨: art/edit; 🧵: web weaving; 👥: character profile Rating: General, Teen, Mature, Explicit
HEAVEN'S SECRET
Heaven's Secret: Series Rewrite by @dutifullynuttywitch |🖊️| Vicky Walker x Dino, Vicky x Lucifer, Adi x Sammy, other pairings | E
Les Petits Cygnes by @jillfvs |🖊️| Vicky Walker x Mimi, Eliza, Austie | TW: anxiety | G
Addicted to Love by @agattthaa |🖊️| Vicky Walker x Mimi | T
Heaven's Secret by @liykaii |🖼️| G
HEAVEN'S SECRET: REQUIEM
A Search for Understanding by @nepthys-merenset |🖊️| Lane x Dmitry | TW: mild blood, mutual roughness | T
The Nature of Duty and Surprises by @nepthys-merenset |🖊️| Lane x Dmitry | T
Heaven's Secret: Requiem by @liykaii |🖼️| TW: skulls | T
Cain by @zhoras-bitch |🖼️| G
Lane by @zhoras-bitch |🖼️| TW: skulls | T
Voice of God!Lane by @zhoras-bitch |🖼️| TW: blood | T
KALI: FLAME OF SAMSARA
Fate by @agattthaa |🖊️| Deviya Sharma × Ram Doobay | T
Belong by @agattthaa |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Ram Doobay | T
Midnight Tryst by @zealouscanonindeer |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Ram Doobay | T
You Can't Always Get What You Want, But If You Try Sometimes, You Might Find, You Get What You Need. by @zealouscanonindeer |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Ram Doobay | T
You Know How I Love You by @secret-fungi |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Ram Doobay | TW: smut, adult themes (implied) | M
Under The Orchid Tree by @secret-fungi |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Ram Doobay | T
Ours by @agattthaa |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Radha Basu | TW: sexual relationship | M
An Aftermath of Episode 8, A Life For a Life by @webanglikethat |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Ram Doobay | G
We Said Our Legacies Were Timeless (But We Were Not) |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Ram Doobay | T
Crave by @agattthaa |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Radha Basu | T
Maybe by @agattthaa |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Radha Basu | T
Ram x Devi by @ratanslily |🎨| G
Deviya Sharma by @liykaii |🖼️| G
PSI
The Only One My Arms Could Ever Hold by @secret-fungi |🖊️| Lou Reed x Ivo Martin | T
PSI by @liykaii |🖼️| G
W: TIME CATCHER
All Those Wretched Things by @secret-fungi |🖊️| Nova x Vesper | TW: emotional distress, mentions of religious abuse/ trauma, interalized homophobia, self-hate | M
WTC by @liykaii |🖼️| G
SOULLESS
Beautiful by @agattthaa |🖊️| Vyxaria x Walter | TW: threats of violence | T
Jealous by @agattthaa |🖊️| Vyxaria x Walter | T
ASTREA'S BROKEN HEART
Hands by @mikaelsrose |🖊️🖼️| Adeline x Mikael | G
Astrea's Broken Heart by @liykaii |🖼️| G
Adeline by @mikaelsrose |🖼️| G
ON THIN ICE
Spring Clean-Up by @ladylamrian |🖊️| Catherine Hill x Brian Baker | G
Catherine Hill, the Snow Queen by @ladylamrian |👥| G
VYING FOR VERSAILLES
They Behead Valets, Don't They? by @reneedenoailles |🖊️| (implied/mentioned) Renée de Noailles x Louis XIV, Alexandre Bontemps | TW: animal abuse, daddy issues, psychological warfare, executions | M
ARCANUM
Arcanum Season 1 by @liykaii |🖼️| TW: skulls, circus, tarot | T
AND THE HAZE WILL TAKE US
Haze by @liykaii |🖼️| TW: vulture culture, rituals | T
Rituals by @liykaii |🖼️| TW: dolls, rituals | T
SONG OF THE CRIMSON NILE
Song Of The Crimson Nile by @liykaii |🖼️| G
SHADOWS OF SAINTFOUR
Sarah O'Neill by @ladylamrian |👥| G
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