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something-tofightfor · 10 months

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Smutsgiving 2023: Sweet Potato Casserole / Daniel Harper (Wing Pit Pedro)

Pairing: Daniel Harper (Wing Pit) x Female Reader (First and 10 pairing)

Word Count: 1,723

Warning: M.

Author’s Note: And here we are, continuing to make something out of absolutely nothing. Wing Pit Pedro has lived rent free in my head since February, and I've just decided to go with it.

This is the First and 10 pairing - more for them can be found on my masterlist, but this can definitely be read as a standalone.

Smmary: Daniel's very interested in the dish you're making to take with you to dinner.

“I’m going to need you to stop that, buddy.” Grinning you glanced down and wrinkled your nose. “You’re real cute, though, so -”

“He knows it. That’s why he’s standing there.” Turning your attention to the kitchen entryway, you watched as Daniel walked in, his socked feet quiet on the kitchen floor. “Raider, c’mere.” He snapped his fingers once, but instead of paying attention, the dog stayed put, whining quietly as he focused on you. “Oh, you traitor.”

“It has nothing to do with me and everything to do with the fact that I’ve got food.” With both hands, you peeled the skin off of the sweet potato, tossing it on the pile in your discard bowl and then putting the whole potato with the others in the larger mixing bowl. “And now that you’re down here I can ask: is he allowed to have some of this? It’s just potatoes right now.”

Daniel waited until he was right behind you to answer, one hand rising to rub at the center of your back as he spoke. “He can. Do you want me to cut it up so you can keep doing that?” You leaned into his touch, both eyes closing while you inhaled.

“If you want.” You reached for one of the peeled potatoes, holding it up. “But I know what you’re doing, Daniel.”

“I’m not doing anything.” He whispered the words before pressing a kiss to the space behind your ear, and then Daniel took the potato from your hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He pulled a clean cutting board from the opposite side of the sink and then grabbed a knife from the block, making quick work of the vegetable while you went back to the others.

You were more at home in his place than you’d ever thought possible, the two of you making it a point to eat dinner there once a week. He made you feel welcome in a way that no other boyfriend ever had, and even though you knew that he was nervous about meeting your extended family for the first time, he made no mention of it that day.

The two of you were prepping things a few days in advance so that on the day of, all you needed to do was load the car and drive, and that afternoon’s task was sweet potato casserole. It was something you were good at and that didn’t take long, meaning that once it was done, the two of you would have the rest of the day to relax.

You began to mash the potatoes in the bowl while he grabbed a plastic plate for Raider, scraping the cubed potato onto it and then leaning over to drop the knife in the sink. “Here. You give it to him.” Daniel held the plate out, his smile genuine. “Gotta score all the points you can, right?”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes and swear at him, you took the plate and then held it up, saying the dog’s name. “You want this?” He sat, tail thumping against the kitchen floor. “I know you do. You’ve been begging for the last twenty minutes, and …” He barked, just once - and with a laugh, you dropped to a knee and set the plate down on the floor before sliding it forward.

Raider went to it immediately, lowering his hed and wolfing down the chunks of potato, his tail wagging furiously. “Bet he sleeps by your feet tonight.” Daniel’s grin was infectious, and you mirrored it when you straightened up, wiping your hands on the front of your pants. “When there’s food involved, he takes things seriously.”

“Sounds like his dad.” You winked and then walked to the sink, turning the water on to wash your hands. “It should only take a few more minutes, Daniel. I just have to mix all this together and then put it into the casserole dish, and -”

“Can I help?” He moved closer again, bending down to grab the empty plate and then dropping it into the sink, the telltale click click click of the dog’s paws fading as he trotted into the living room. “I know we’re stopping to get pie on Wednesday, but… I feel bad.”

“You can. But you shouldn’t feel bad.” Drying your hands, you picked up the masher again. “This is easy.” But if he really wants to help… “All of the rest of the ingredients are in that bag, and so’s the recipe. If you want to measure things out, I won’t say no.”

And he did - following the instructions to the letter, the various measuring cups and spoons ready to go as you needed them, the can of evaporated milk opened and waiting for you to dump it in. “Will you leave some lumps?” He leaned over, peeking over your shoulder. “I don’t like it when it’s like baby food.”

Snorting back your laughter, you promised you would, Daniel thanking you under his breath before sliding he casserole dish closer to where you stood.

He washed the few dishes you’d used while you spread the mixture out, using the flat part of a spatula to get it almost level. Perfect. It’s - “I didn’t see a bag of marshmallows in there. Just this.” He held up a jar of marshmallow fluff, a confused expression on his face. “What’s up with -”

“It toasts better.” You sighed, taking the jar from him. “And those little marshmallows have that weird coating on them. This doesn’t.” Unscrewing the lid, you used the same spatula to scoop it out and into the center of the dish, eyes on the movement of your hand. “And this way, the entire top is covered. You don’t have to fight anyone for the marshmallows.”

Daniel surprised you by wrapping his arm around your chest, his hand squeezing your shoulder. “I like the sound of that.” You did, too - but you liked being held to his chest even more, and gave yourself a few seconds to enjoy the feeling, the spatula’s movement paused an inch or so above the potatoes and both eyes closed. “Why’d you stop?”

“I’m being distracted.” You hummed, shaking your head. “You know that ‘you can’t walk and chew gum at the same time’ thing that people always say?” He nodded, chuckling. “Apparently I can’t cover these potatoes with marshmallow and be manhandled at the same time.”

“This isn’t even close to manhandling.” He stepped closer, pressing his chest to your back. “But if you want me to drag you away from what you’re doing, I’ll be more than happy to.” You wanted him to - very much - but knew that if he did, there was a good chance Raider would make a mess of your casserole while the two of you were occupied.

“Give me five minutes.” You whispered the words, biting your lip after you finished speaking. And then I’m yours for the rest of the night.

“I can do that.” He loosened his hold but didn’t step away, and when you returned to spreading the marshmallow over the top of the dish, he spoke up again. “Won’t the marshmallow burn if you put it on now and then bake it?”

“No.” You paused, scooping a little of the white fluff from the jar. “Since the potatoes are already cooked, it’s mostly just about warming it up. You let it sit out for about a half hour before you bake it, and then it doesn’t take long to heat through.”

Daniel’s hands dropped to your waist while you spoke, and you knew that he was watching while you finished, smoothing out the topping. But wait. Wordlessly, you held the spatula up, turning your head toward him and raising a brow. “What? What are you -”

“Here. You finish. Just drag it along the top and make some peaks.” He took it from you and when you ducked out from his hold, stepping to the side, you watched as he carefully lowered the spatula, pausing before he made contact. “Use the edge. You won’t hurt it, I promise.”

He did as you told him to, and a minute or so later, there were visible swirls of marshmallow atop the casserole and Daniel was smiling triumphantly, the sticky spatula held in one hand. “Done.” He turned to face you, clearing his throat. “Only one thing left to do.”

“What’s that?” The smile dropped, turning into a smirk, and he held the spatula out to you.

“Gotta clean this off.” Oh. Oh, yeah. I guess… You used one finger, dragging it through the fluff and then bringing it to your lips, the edges of your teeth scraping the marshmallow clean. “How’s it taste?”

It was a loaded question, but you took the bait anyway, pulling the spatula from his hand and setting it down on the counter. “You tell me, Daniel.” Winding your arms around his neck, you tilted your head to the right. “How does that sound?”

“Perfect. It sounds perfect.” You smiled in the few seconds it took him to meet your lips with his, but Daniel deepend things almost right away - just like you’d hoped he would. He chased the taste of the marshmallow with his tongue, your arms tightening at the same time he settled his at your waist. But he pulled away almost too quickly, and the look of confusion in your eyes made him smile, he man reaching for the spatula a second time. “Tastes good like that.” He licked his lips, nodding. “But I bet it’d taste better in other places.”

Your lips parted in surprise, but you weren’t able to stop your sharp inhale, Daniel’s eyes glittering at the sound. “Yeah?” He nodded, never looking away from you. “Do you want to go find out?”

“Yes.” It was only one word but you heard the want in it. And despite the fact that you knew the day would end with his bedding in the laundry and both of you taking hot showers, you didn’t care.

“Let me put the dish into the oven for now.” You nodded twice, still staring at him. “Otherwise it’s going to end up on the floor thanks to you know who.” Daniel closed his eyes, laughing. “But while I’m doing that?” Using one hand - the clean one - you traced the line of his jaw, thumb following the bottom curve of his lips. “Grab that jar. We’re not letting the rest of that go to waste.”

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