#YES BABE please do bake off now PLEASE
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sweet1delusi0ns · 8 months ago
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Class 1A boys being called pretty──☆*:・゚
MHA + fem!reader
Established ! Relationships
Characters: Izuku, katsuki, Shoto, Tenya, Eijirou, Denki, Sero, Tokoyami, Aoyama, Ojiro, Sato, Shoji, Koji!
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IZUKU~
“Hey pretty boy!” “Erm no. I prefer…handsome” “speak up!” “I said I prefer to be called handsome.” He grumbles “Well pretty Boy rolls off the tongue better so I’m sticking to it. Now get to class, pretty boy~” “but- I..- fine…thanks for the compliment…” he walks away mopey but flustered by the compliment. Later he says how he doesn’t mind you calling him that, but he’s stubborn so he mumbles while explaining that he doesn’t mind
KATSUKI~
“How’s your day pretty boy?” You sneak up in hun so he didn’t realize it was you “WHO SAID THAT? IM GUNNA K- oh” he turns around to see you with an unimpressed look “sorry…was that you who called me that?” “Uh yeah…?” “Hm. Whatever, I GUESS it’s fine.” Later he asks you to call him pretty again while cuddling after school but shhh don’t tell anyone-
SHOTO~
“Hey babe!” He was currently sitting in the lunch room alone waiting for you “hi y/n…” “youre looking very pretty today~ you almost sparkle” you joke “I sparkle? Is there glitter on me?” “No…it’s a joke. But you do look pretty!” “Oh…thank you love…” he whispers that last part since he’s somewhat caught off guard, he never really thought someone would call him attractive let alone pretty
TENYA~
Rarely do you see him without glasses so when he took them off to clean them you had to say something. “You’re really pretty…” “hm?” “You. You’re really pretty” his jaw drops along with his glasses. He picks them up and puts them back on before turning away from you to calm down “why would y/n say that, is it just because I’m her boyfriend or is it genuine?” He whispered “I can hear you pretty boy!” “AGH!”
EIJIROU~
“You’re kinda pretty…” You say holding your cheek “what?” “You’re kinda pretty.” “What no really…?” “Yeah really~” “ah jeez…thanks y/n…” it really made him feel better, like REALLY he wouldn’t leave you alone for the rest of the week. Through out the day you could hear him say “do it again!” “Please!!!” “Just call me pretty one more time?” But not in front of anyone! He can’t be caught being soft even though it’s obvious
DENKI~
“How was class pretty boy?” He just sits there with a dumb look at he thinks for a second “what?!” “How was your class?” “NO! The other thing.” “Pretty boy?” “Huehehehe yeah” he sits there biting his lip looking dumb “ok I’m never calling you that again.” “NO that’s NOT fair!” “Then stop being stupid.”
SERO~
“Aw Man cant You Call me anything else? Maybe dashing or something?” “Aw whyy? You don’t like being called pretty?” “Well…not in front of everyone, no.” He whispers “but I guess it’s ok…please call me that in private later…” “don’t worry I will!”
TOKOYAMI~
“You’re honestly kinda pretty…never really thought about it but you’re really majestic” he blinks a few times before responding “I literally have a bird head how is that pretty?” “Birds are really pretty…don’t you think?” You say softly “Uhm…yes some bird are very beautiful” you flash a smile “exactly” he closes his eyes and crosses his arms, once you look away he smiles
AOYAMA~
Dude he loves it?! “Hey pretty boy” “well I am quiet pretty aren’t I?” He winks “just take the compliment.” He pouts “fine…just say it again” “ugh…you’re very pretty..and sparkly” “you are the love of my life~!” He says with actual tears in his eyes
OJIRO~
“Why pretty?” “Why not?” “i guess you have a point” you nod, he starts to fiddle with his tail before speaking “you really think I’m attractive? Let alone pretty?” You scoff “hell yeah!” “Wow…thanks!” He hugs his tail with a dumb smile
SATO~
“You look reallyyy pretty when you’re focused on baking!” He looks away from the counter and over to you “what?” “You look pretty Sato!” He inhaled and gives you a wiggly smile “thanks y/n! I’ll make you some cookies too…” he says almost shyly
SHOJI~
He was changing his mask infront of you and you decided to speak up “you know all those scars look really pretty on you” “…w-what?” “You look pretty! With and without your mask” “uhm well..I uh- you know…thank you.” He lets his head fall in embarrassment, but also feeling confident after what you said. “Even prettier when you blush” “STOP”
KOJI~
“Hey pretty boy!” “*squeals*” end of story.
Jk; “hey pretty boy!” He looks over at you, before covering his face with his hands, letting out a whiny “stop,stop,stop…” “haha! I’m just trying to compliment you! You deserve it?” “*squealing noises* stop…” “why?” “He peaks his eye out of his hands “because…I can’t handle it…”
Hi….this ain’t proof read😋
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watchmegetobsessed · 3 months ago
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hi babe, how are you? i hope you're fine❤️. idk if you are accepting requests but i really would like to make one. I've been thinking about this a lot and, as I've been following and admiring your stories for a few years, I wanted it to come from you. You could do an imagine where Harry falls in love with a woman who has a very young daughter, around 5 years old. It took him a few months to meet her because Y/N knew that the little girl hadn't yet accepted her parents' breakup and that's why the last two attempts at dating had gone wrong, she had already given up trying until she met Harry. So he tries to win the little girl over from the beginning because he really likes Y/N and won't give up on her so easily. thank you in advance❤️
A/N: i haven't taken any requests in a long while, but i wanted to write something short but sweet so here we are!
WORD COUNT: 1.2k
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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Sitting on the bottom of the stairs Harry can still hear Y/N’s soft murmur coming from Evie’s room, the bedtime story has been going on for over twenty minutes now, but he doesn’t mind the waiting. If it takes hours, he will still be here, waiting for Y/N to return and even if she asks him to leave, it would still be worth it, just to kiss her goodbye and head home. Any minute he gets to spend with her is worth the wait. 
Tonight has been special, something he’s been looking forward to since their second date when she told him she has a daughter. He still remembers how hesitant and closed-off he seemed when she talked about Evie, because she was scared of his reaction, that he would think of her differently just because she is a mother. 
But it didn’t change a thing. He just realized he had even more respect for her. 
It’s been three months since that conversation and he waited patiently for her to offer him to meet Evie, he wanted it to happen on her terms. Tonight was that time finally. 
He came over to her place and they baked cookies together and watched Frozen, Evie’s favorite movie. Harry came prepared, he brought her a gift and tried his best to win the little girl over, which happened quite fast. 
Or at least the moment he started singing Let It Go with her. 
Y/N has told him about her last two attempts at dating, it took her quite some time to build up the courage to meet new people after his divorce and it was especially hard for her, because Evie was just two at that time. She dated two guys, both of them turned her down because they couldn’t deal with her being a single mother. One of them didn’t even have the gut to tell her straight to her face, he just ghosted her. 
It angers Harry so much that she was treated this way, because she deserves the world. But at least now he gets to be the person to give her it all. 
He hears the door to Evie’s room open and close softly and a moment later she sits beside him on the stairs. Instantly, his arm comes around her figure, tugging her to his side. 
“Sorry it took so long.”
“Don’t apologize.” He places a kiss to the top of her head and his heart skips a beat when she snuggles even closer to him. 
They sit in comfortable silence and Harry knows she is probably overthinking everything that happened tonight, not in the right way.
“Evie is amazing,” he says.
“You think so?”
“Yes. Absolutely. Thank you for letting me get to know her.”
She lifts her head and looks him in the eyes, that’s when he sees the tears in hers. 
“So it’s not too much?” He takes her face in his hands and then kisses her gently.
“Nothing about you will ever be too much, Y/N.”
She sighs in relief, as if she’s been carrying a weight all along that’s been lifted off her shoulders. 
“Do you want to… stay the night?” she whispers against his lips. 
“I would love to.”
“Even if Evie will barge into my room around six in the morning probably?”
“Now I want to stay even more,” he chuckles lightly. 
***
Y/N wakes slowly and lazily, turning from one side to the other, her hand reaching out on the bed, looking for Harry, but she finds nothing, but the pillow he slept on. His absence wakes her more abruptly, searching for him with her eyes, but she sees no sight of him in the room. With a hammering heart she sits up and holds the sheets to her chest as her thoughts start racing, thinking about Harry sneaking out sometime in the middle of the night. 
Her throat starts to close up as she spirals into the thought of another failed dating attempt, but this one hurts so much more than the previous ones, she trusted him… she loved him… yet he left her. 
Then she hears Evie’s laughter, coming from downstairs. And another voice. 
Harry’s. 
She jumps out of bed and puts on her robe before rushing downstairs, finding her little girl in the kitchen with none other than Harry making… pancakes?
“Mommy!” Evie cheers when she sees her, jumping off the stool she uses to reach the counter. She runs up to Y/N and hugs her tightly.
“Hi Honey, what’s going on?” she asks, but the question is addressed more to Harry rather than to Evie.
“We’re making pancakes!” she answers with excitement. 
“I hope it’s okay,” Harry adds shyly, holding the spatula in his hand. “She came into the bedroom, but you didn’t wake up so I thought… I could let you rest a bit more while we make breakfast.”
It’s such a small gesture, but it’s been quite long since the last time someone did something for her. Being a single parent means doing everything herself and to be honest, her ex-husband wasn’t much of a help around the house in the last year or so in their marriage. 
This was Harry’s first time staying over and he already feels like part of their household. 
As Evie climbs back onto the stool and starts stirring the pancake mixture Y/N can’t stop herself from wrapping her arms around Harry’s waist and kissing him. 
“It’s… more than okay. It’s everything,” she whispers against his lips before stealing another quick kiss. 
They finish making breakfast and then eat together. Then Y/N sends Evie to the bathroom to clean herself up while she and Harry clean the table. 
“Listen, I don’t want you to feel like you have to–” she starts, but she is cut off quickly.
“Like I have to do all these extra things for you and Evie?” Harry asks with a tiny smirk as they start loading the washer. “First of all, I did nothing extra. This is pretty much the bare minimum, caring for others, sharing the tasks. This is what partners do.” She lets out an airy chuckle before he continues. “Second… I would do anything for you. And Evie as well. I know I just met her, but…” Taking a deep breath he straightens up and waits for Y/N to do the same. “I love you. Everything about you and everything that’s part of you and Evie is part of you. She is wonderful and I know you’re afraid I might see her as a burden which comes from your experiences with assholes, but it’s not happening with me. Alright?”
“You promise?” she asks in a whisper, tears dwelling in her eyes. He steps closer to her, taking her face between his palms. 
“Promise,” he answers and kisses her softly.
“By the way, I love you too,” she says with a small chuckle. “Yeah, I heard your L bomb.”
“I did drop the L bomb, yeah,” he grins and just when he is about to go in for another kiss Evie runs out to them.
“I’m done! What are we doing today? Harry, are you staying?” 
“Well, do you want me to stay?” he asks, smiling down at her.
“Yes!”
“Then,” he starts, turning his gaze back at Y/N. “Yes. I’m staying.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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ramp-it-up · 3 days ago
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Baby Cakes & Tough Guy
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Summary: You co-own Baby Cakes Bakery with your bestie Monica Rambeau, direct competition for the Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson owned Howling Commando Baked Goods. And now you are competing head to head in The Best in Brooklyn Bake-Off. You're sugar, spice and everything nice and Bucky is... Grumpy. Can you sweeten him up, or is he going to make you into a sour puss?
Word count: 5.3K
Pairing: Baker!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Reader;
Sam Wilson x reader, & Monica Rambeau x reader (platonic)
A/N: This is inspired by the #BuckyBarnesBirthdayBingo by @avengers-assemble-bingo. This fulfills the square: Bakery AU, and has completed my card. I don't know if you could tell, but I have had an absolute BALL with these prompts. And this one was especially fun. Let me know what you think! Please reblog, comment, and like!
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. All errors my own. Angst. Grumpy Bucky, rustic baking, baking competition, mutual pining, rivalries, undeniable chemistry, Bucky’s an ass, but he makes up for it, oral (m/f receiving), sloppy blow job, praise kink, nipple play, orgasm denial, raw p-in-v, creampie, reference to eating the groceries, possessive Bucky. 😁
I do not have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
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The first time you ever saw Bucky Barnes, he was scowling at a sack of flour like it personally offended him.
You adjusted your Baby Cakes apron and bit back a laugh.
“This is gonna be fun,” you murmured as you set up your station in The Best in Brooklyn Bake-Off tent in Prospect Park.
“Fun?” 
Monica snorted from beside you. 
“Babe, this is war. Do you even know who that is?”
You glanced over at the very grumpy man two stations down. His broad shoulders strained against a black apron that read Tough Guy, and his arms were crossed like he’d rather be anywhere but here. His biceps popped as he folded them tighter. 
Damn. 
And then his sharp blue eyes flicked to yours. You definitely got caught staring. Bucky’s scowl deepened and you suppressed the urge to stick out your tongue.
“Should I?” you asked Monica, arching a brow.
She leaned in conspiratorially. 
“That’s Bucky Barnes. Co-owner of Howling Commandos Baked Goods. And you know they’ve been stealing our customers with their ‘no-frills, real-deal, rustic baking’ nonsense.”
You rolled your eyes. 
“Oh no. Not rustic baking,” you mocked.
“I’m serious!” 
Monica flapped a hand. 
“Foodie blogs won’t shut up about them. And he and his partner, Sam Wilson, act like they’re too cool for anything frilly.” 
She air-quoted dramatically. 
“AKA us.”
You shrugged. 
“Guess we’ll have to prove them wrong.”
But as you turned back to your ingredients, you felt it, that distinct sensation of being watched. And when you glanced up again, Bucky was still looking. 
Not just looking, but assessing. 
Outright staring.
Then, at the last second, his mouth quirked in the faintest smirk. A silent challenge.
Your stomach flipped. 
Yes. This was going to be interesting.
Bucky was already regretting this.
The second Sam convinced him to sign up for this competition, he knew it was a mistake.
"Dude, it’s good exposure. Plus, imagine the free marketing when we crush everyone else."
Bucky had reluctantly agreed. But now, standing in this tent, surrounded by pastel-colored mixing bowls and way too much cheerfulness, he was rethinking everything.
Especially when he saw you.
You.
You, with your too-bright smile and sugar-dusted cheeks.
You, adjusting your apron, hands moving with the ease of someone who loved this. 
You, already chatting with the other contestants, laughing like this was a Saturday morning bake sale instead of a competition.
And the worst part?
You were good.
He hadn’t tasted a single thing you’d made yet, but he could tell.
By the way that you measured your ingredients with confidence.
By the way you scanned your recipe, fully in control. 
By the way you smiled like baking was fun.
Sam elbowed him.
“Dude. You’re staring.”
Bucky grunted. 
“Sizing up the competition.”
“Yeah? Or are you just into her?”
Bucky fixed Sam with a glare.
“She’s the enemy.”
“If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” Sam snorted.
Bucky clenched his jaw and turned back to his station.
This was just a competition.
Nothing more.
You never expected this when you signed up for The Best in Brooklyn Bake-Off.
Stress? Absolutely.
Flour in your hair? Without a doubt.
A full-blown panic attack over an underbaked sponge cake? Practically guaranteed.
But Bucky Barnes?
Never in a million years.
And yet, there he was, the grumpiest, scowliest contestant in the history of televised baking.
"Are you serious?" he muttered, watching as you carefully piped pink buttercream onto your cupcakes.
You glanced up, blinking adorably up at him.
"What?"
He jerked a thumb at your apron, enjoying the view as he eyed the logo printed across your breasts. 
"Baby Cakes."
You flashed a proud grin. 
"That’s our bakery."
His scowl deepened. He already knew that. He was there for your introduction.
Of course, you would own a place called Baby Cakes, a bright, pastel-colored bakery specializing in mini cupcakes and love-themed treats. It was the exact opposite of his and Sam’s Howling Commandos Baked Goods, where everything was dark wood, bold flavors, and exactly zero sprinkles.
"Figures," he muttered.
Bucky told himself he didn’t like the way you smile. That the sound of your laugh wasn’t cute as hell. 
And that was a problem because every time you smiled at him, it got that much harder to pretend he didn’t love it. And every time you laughed, it became difficult as hell to not laugh with you.
And the way you looked. He took the opportunity to appreciate your generous curves, and the way your thick curls hid your cute as a candy button face as you were concentrating on what you were doing.
The thought popped into his head that wanted to taste you.
Where did that come from?
He cleared his throat as you finished piping, straightened up, and extended your hand. Bucky hesitated, then took it grudgingly. 
Your name rolled easily off your tongue, warm and inviting. He uttered his in return, then slowly extracted his hand, swiping the bit of frosting you left behind onto his finger.
And then, he licked it off.
You shouldn’t have found messy hands sexy. But watching Bucky Barnes taste your buttercream, his tongue swiping slowly over his fingertip? 
Yeah. That definitely did something to you.
You let out a small hum before you stopped yourself.
Or was that a moan?
His blue eyes flicked up, knowing, teasing, and challenging you.
"Way too much sugar," he muttered, backing away as he took note of your dilated eyes.
He thought about your reaction to him and almost tripped over Sam while trying to look cool. You bit your lip to hold back your laughter as he stormed back to his station, looking like an actual thundercloud.
Sam clapped him on the shoulder, shaking his head. 
"Man, you’re screwed."
And for the first time in his life, Bucky wondered if maybe Sam was right.
—----
Day after day, you and Bucky clashed.
He rolled his eyes at your sprinkles. You teased him about his obsession with “serious” baking. 
But somewhere between the macaron challenge and the lightning round, something shifted.
One night, after a particularly brutal bread challenge, you found yourselves alone in the kitchen. The others had gone, but you were still cleaning up when Bucky leaned against the counter, watching you.
“You surprised me today,” he said gruffly.
You glanced over at him, raising a brow. 
“Because I made a decent brioche?”
He smirked, just a little. 
“Because you didn’t let the stress get to you.”
You scoffed. 
“I did cry a little behind the fridge.”
That almost-smirk softened into something dangerously close to a smile. And you almost swooned at how handsome he was.
“You care about this. That’s… kinda cool.”
Your heart did a funny little flip.
Bucky should have walked away. Should’ve ignored the way you looked at him like he wasn’t the grumpiest asshole in the tent. 
But he didn’t. Instead, he reached out, swiping a bit of frosting from your wrist.
“Lemon?” he guessed.
“Vanilla bean with a hint of lime,” you corrected.
He licked it off his finger, his blue eyes never leaving yours. You grew warm as you noted the twinkle in those true blue eyes. 
You began to wonder if he did it on purpose, if he knew how it affected you last time.
He nodded.
“Not bad, Baby Cakes.”
And just like that, you knew that maybe grumpy, scowly Bucky Barnes wasn’t such a tough guy after all.
——-
By the fifth day of the competition, tensions were high.
And not just the who’s-going-to-win-the-grand-prize kind of tension. 
No.
This was something else. Something hotter.
Which is why, when you snuck into the kitchen after hours to squeeze in some extra practice, you weren’t even surprised to find Bucky Barnes already there, leaning against the counter, arms crossed, his black apron slung over his shoulder like he owned the place.
“Seriously?” you sighed, setting down your mixing bowl.  “You couldn’t pick another time to lurk in the shadows like some kind of kitchen goblin?”
The corner of his mouth twitched, the closest thing to a smile you’d gotten from him all week.
“Funny. I was about to say the same thing to you.”
You rolled your eyes and grabbed a whisk. 
“Well, I was here first.”
“No, you weren’t.”
You huffed. “I was in spirit.”
That did it. 
Bucky let out something suspiciously close to a laugh, a low, raspy sound that sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. Shaking it off, you started working, pouring flour into a bowl and focusing on your batter. 
Or at least, you tried to.
But you could feel his eyes on you, staring at you intently. After a few minutes, you glanced up, exasperated. 
“What?”
“I didn’t peg you for the burning-the-midnight-oil-so-you-can-win-the-competition kind of intense.”
"I’m not usually," you admitted, nudging a stray bit of flour with your foot. 
"Just… nerves, I guess."
He pushed off the counter and strolled over to you.
"You’re gonna dominate this competition, Baby Cakes. You’re good.”
You blinked. Did Bucky Barnes, the king of scowls, just compliment you?
Your brow furrowed. 
“Is this some kind of mind game? Because if it is, I’m not falling for it, Tough Guy.”
He shrugged, and this time, he smiled. A real one. Just a flicker, but enough to make your pulse trip.
“No games. Just calling it like I see it.”
You were incredulous.
“You do know I’m your biggest competition, right?"
"Yeah.” His eyes searched your face.  “And I still meant it."
Something in your chest tightened. And it was bad. Really bad. Because for the first time since this competition started, you weren’t sure if you wanted to beat Bucky Barnes.
Or kiss him.
You mentally rattled off all the reasons why that was a terrible idea, but before you could get through them, his voice cut through your thoughts.
“I can hear your brain going, you know.”
You gasped, half-thinking he could actually read your mind.
“You’re an over thinker,” he said, quiet but certain, like he already knew you.
“And your worst habit is scowling at my cupcakes like you're judging them,” you teased, desperate to steer the conversation somewhere safer.
Bucky laughed again. 
“I am judging. Too much frosting.”
You were ready to fire back, but the moment your eyes locked, the words caught in your throat. The dim kitchen light softened him. Made him look less guarded, more real. His sharp blue gaze flicked over your face, lingering on your lips just a second too long.
The air between you shifted, heavier than before. The only sound was the faint hum of the refrigerators and your own heartbeat pounding way too fast.
You gaped at him. 
"Well, you!... I mean, do you, um…,"  
You cleared your throat and looked around at everything else in the tent except Bucky.
"You have a favorite moment from the bake off so far?"
Bucky studied you for a beat, then smirked. He was making you uncomfortable. How interesting. He wasn't alone in this infatuation.
"Yeah."
You waited, expecting him to say something about his caramel tarts or his perfect sourdough. Instead, he took a step closer.
"It was the first day," he murmured. 
"When you walked in with that ridiculous pink apron and told the judges your bakery was called Baby Cakes. I remember thinking…" 
He shook his head. 
"Damn. I’m in trouble."
Your breath hitched.
"Bucky…"
But before you could say anything, before you could do anything, he stepped back, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.
"Night, Baby Cakes," he said, his voice rough.
And just like that, he walked away, leaving you standing there, your heart racing, brain spinning, completely and utterly ruined for him.
After that night, everything between you and Bucky changed. You still bickered. Oh, did you bicker. But now every jab carried a tension that coiled tighter with every glance.
"Too much sugar, Baby Cakes," he mumbled during the pastry challenge, his voice low as his sharp eyes raked over your cherry almond tart with disdain.
"Too much salt, Tough Guy," you fired back, swiping a taste of his dark chocolate sea salt ganache before he could stop you.
He froze as you licked the spoon clean, your tongue sliding across the curve with deliberate precision. His eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as if he was wrestling with something he couldn’t name.
Oh.
“That’s debatable,” he finally managed, though his voice came out rough, almost strained.
You smiled, thinking you might have a lot power.
And then came the announcement that made your stomach flip. The dreaded Team Challenge.
"You’ve got to be kidding me," Bucky groaned when the producers called your names together.
"Oh, come on," you teased, bumping his arm with a grin you hoped looked more confident than you felt. "You’re gonna love working with me."
"Doubt it," he grumbled, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.
The challenge? A three-tiered wedding cake, elegant and sophisticated. 
A perfect harmony of flavors, the producers said. In reality, it felt like a recipe for disaster.
Your styles clashed like oil and water. You craved delicate piping and romantic floral details; Bucky wanted bold flavors and sharp, clean lines. 
Hearts versus hands. 
Sugar versus salt.
But somewhere between rolling fondant and whipping buttercream, something shifted. 
He steadied your hands when your piping wavered, his warm fingers brushing yours just a little longer than necessary. You softened his scowls with quick jokes, your laughter breaking through the walls he tried to keep firmly in place. 
You moved like you’d been baking together for years, finding a rhythm that felt natural.
When the final timer buzzed, you both stepped back, staring at your creation in awe.
Three tiers of vanilla bean sponge cake, layered with a tart blackberry compote and tangy lemon curd, wrapped in pristine white fondant. Gold dust kissed the edges, while delicate sugar roses cascaded down the sides like a fairytale.
It wasn’t just good. It was breathtaking.
For the first time, Bucky turned to you without his usual smirk or scowl.
“Nice work, Baby Cakes,” he murmured, his voice low.
“You too, Tough Guy,” you whispered, your heart racing at the way his eyes lingered on you.
The judges swooned, declaring it the best cake of the show. You and Bucky won the challenge.
Without thinking, Bucky picked you up, arms wrapped around your waist and spun you around. The broad smile on his face disappeared as you slid down his body back to the ground.
Both of you cleared your throats and went opposite ways out of the tent, as Monica and Sam shared a look.
Later that night, after the cameras stopped rolling, you found yourself outside by the catering table, sneaking an extra slice.
"Thought you’d be sick of it by now," Bucky said, leaning beside you, his presence close and warm in the cool night air.
"Never," you grinned, licking a dollop of frosting off your thumb before realizing how much attention he was paying to the movement.
“Although,” you added, suddenly self-conscious, “I should probably stop sampling the wares. My jeans are struggling.”
You looked away, cheeks warming, thinking about how you had to jump to put your jeans on, but when you glanced back, you caught him looking. Not just at you, but at your ass in your jeans.
“Looks like a productive struggle,” he muttered, his voice dropping into a husky timbre that made your pulse skip. “Don’t change a thing, Baby Cakes.”
Bucky licked his lips, his gaze trailing back to your mouth, and before you could process what was happening, his thumb brushed your lips, swiping away some frosting. 
And then he kissed you.
It wasn’t rushed or frantic. It was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring the moment, savoring the essence of you. Bucky tasted like buttercream and something more flavorful, something with more depth. Something like him. 
His lips moved against yours with knee-weakening confidence, one hand sliding to the small of your back, the other cradling your jaw. 
When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you couldn’t stop yourself from murmuring, "Not bad."
He chuckled, his breath warm against your skin.
"Not bad at all."
The kiss felt like magic, like folding sugar into butter, like the perfect meringue gaining its peaks. But then reality came crashing back.
“Well, well, well!”
You and Bucky sprang apart, both turning to see Monica standing there, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.
"Uh," you stammered, feeling your stomach drop.
Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at Monica.
"So, are you two, like, together-together?" Monica asked, her tone dripping with amusement. 
"Or was this just a ‘we made a wedding cake and got caught up in the moment’ thing?"
Your mouth opened, but nothing came out. Bucky beat you to it.
"We’re not together," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Ouch.
You fought to keep your expression neutral, but Monica’s raised brow told you she wasn’t buying it.
"Riiight," she drawled. "Well, if you were together, you’d make a killer duo. That cake? Best one I’ve had in a long time."
She sauntered off, leaving you standing there, cheeks burning and heart pounding for all the wrong reasons.
"Listen, Baby Cakes," Bucky started, his voice tight, but you held up a hand.
"Nope," you said quickly, your tone sharp. "It’s fine. We’re here to bake, not… whatever that was."
His jaw clenched, but he nodded stiffly. 
"Right. Baking. That’s what we’re here for."
Later, at the bar celebrating with the crew, you avoided him entirely, but you felt his eyes on you all night.
“Bucky’s over there looking like someone stole his candy thermometer.”
You glanced at him over your shoulder and found him watching you moodily. You rolled your eyes and turned back to your drink.
“He’ll be aight.”
Monica shook her head.
“Ya’ll are two hard heads, but that’s one of my business.” 
When Monica left you alone, you thought about what happened earlier. How embarrassed you were when Bucky denied anything between you. And now here he was, moping around because you wouldn’t speak to him.
Too bad, you thought bitterly. Bucky blew his chance. You weren’t about to let yourself get hurt again.
But deep down, you couldn’t shake the question: Why did that kiss feel like the start of something?
At first, Bucky told himself he’d dodged a bullet. You were too bubbly, too happy, too... everything he wasn’t. It would never have worked.
But as he watched you laugh with everyone else, refusing to look his way, something felt wrong.
Wrong like a cake that collapsed in the oven.
Wrong like he’d measured something incorrectly and couldn’t figure out what.
He saw it in your eyes.
In the way your shoulders stiffened when he denied anything between you.
In the way you brushed flour off your apron aggressively.
Bucky fucked up.
And now, all he could think about was how to fix it, because for the first time in years, he was craving a little sugar to balance his spice.
—-
The next morning, before filming started, Bucky found you in the prep kitchen, alone. You were at the counter, rolling out dough with a little too much force, your shoulders tight, your jaw clenched.
"That dough do something to offend you, Baby Cakes?" he asked, leaning against the counter, hoping the teasing tone would draw out the usual playful spark in your eyes.
But you didn’t look up.
"Just getting out some aggression," you muttered, your hands moving with sharp, angry precision.
Bucky exhaled, frustration building. He wanted to fix this. He wanted to be better at saying the right thing, but years of being tough and closed-off made it hard for the words to come.
So he said nothing.
Instead, he did what he knew best.
He baked.
When he came back to himself, baking became his real therapy. A time and space for him to really work out all that he had seen and done.
A chance to create instead of destroy.
Silently, he worked at the station next to yours, kneading dough, measuring ingredients, and whisking with deliberate care. You pretended not to notice, but as the warm scent of cinnamon, vanilla, and caramel began to fill the air, it became impossible to ignore.
Finally, he slid a small plate toward you, a delicate pastry, golden brown and still warm.
"What’s this?" you asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
"Sticky bun," he said, shifting on his feet. "Made it the way you like. Soft in the middle. Extra pecans."
How did he know that? Monica.
Your lips pressed together, but the flicker of interest in your eyes gave you away. He'd done his research on you. Breaking off a piece, you popped it into your mouth, and immediately sighed.
It was perfect. Gooey and rich, sweet but balanced.
"Okay," you admitted, trying to keep your tone neutral.
"This is dangerously good."
Bucky’s lips curved into a small, tentative smile as he watched you eat.
"I was an ass yesterday," he said softly, his voice low and rough.
"I didn’t mean to… Look, I panicked. I wasn’t trying to hurt you."
You put the sticky bun down and turned to face him fully, meeting his eyes with a steady gaze.
"Then what were you trying to do?"
His tongue swept over his bottom lip, his brows furrowing like he was weighing each word carefully.
"I guess I thought if I said it out loud, it’d be easier to ignore how much I want you," he confessed, his voice raw and unguarded.
"Didn’t work."
Your stomach flipped. You swallowed, suddenly too aware of how close he was standing, of the heat radiating from his body. Of how he seemed to be holding himself back at the moment.
"You want me," you said slowly, almost testing the words.
Bucky nodded, his gaze unwavering.
"Yeah. And I know I’ve gotta prove it now. Because I fucked up.”
His blue, blue eyes shone with sincerity. And something else.
“I fumbled a beautiful, talented, sexy woman like you."
You let the silence stretch, let him sweat a little. Then, with deliberate slowness, you broke off another piece of the sticky bun and pressed it to his lips.
For a moment, he hesitated. Then, he opened his mouth, taking the bite, and sucking the tips of your fingers into his mouth and licking between them as he did, eyes on you the entire time. The gentle pull of his lips sent a thrill down your spine. And the vulgar promise of his tongue had heat pooling low in your belly. 
Your nipples hardened, and a fresh wave of arousal swept through you, dampening your panties.
"G-good start," you murmured, your voice husky. "But it’s just a start."
A slow, wicked smirk tugged at his lips at your stutter.
"Then I guess I’ll just have to keep sweetening you up," he drawled, the heat in his gaze making it clear he wasn’t just talking about baking.
But you weren’t letting him off the hook that easily. For the rest of the day, you kept your distance, not too far, but far enough to make him feel it. Enough to make him yearn for you.
Bucky turned into an absolute softie, sneaking you little treats between takes, making sure you had the good whisk before grabbing his own, brushing a hand against your lower back, warm finger splayed wide, when he passed behind you, murmuring a low "behind" that sent shivers racing across your skin.
Monica noticed, of course.
"You’re making him work for it," she said approvingly as she piled buttercream onto a tray of cupcakes.
"I’m not–"
She shot you a knowing look. "Girl, please."
Fine. Maybe you were. Maybe you liked watching Bucky struggle his way through this. Maybe you liked seeing the grumpiest man in the competition try to charm you with sugar, spice, and smoldering glances that left your pulse skipping.
They announced you as winner of the competition and Bucky inclined his head at you, a real smile on his face.
And that night, he took it a step further.
------
When you came back late to the brownstone after staying out with the others, you found something waiting for you on the kitchen counter.
A cake.
Not just any cake, your favorite. Fucking Monica.
It was carrot cake, three perfectly even layers of moist, spiced goodness, slathered with smooth cream cheese frosting. Tiny sugar pearls lined the edges, and an intricate sugar carrot sat on top.
You blinked, your heart skipping a beat.
Bucky stood off to the side, leaning against the counter, arms crossed, biceps popping. He was still in his apron, his face serious, but his blue eyes searched yours, a flicker of uncertainty behind them.
"Took me all damn night," he said gruffly.
You stepped closer, still processing.
"You made this?"
His jaw ticked, like he was bracing for impact.
"Had some help from Sam," he admitted.
A loud snort came from the doorway.
"Some help? Try a lot," Sam called as he trudged up the stairs. 
"Give him a break, Baby Cakes, so he can stop behaving like a lovesick idiot every time you walk into, or out of a room. Or basically all the time."
Bucky ignored him, his attention fixed on you.
"Lovesick?" you asked softly, your voice barely audible.
He sighed, rubbing a hand down the back of his neck.
“Yeah. I uhhh…”
Bucky looked so cute in that moment, the most vulnerable you’d seen him.
"I need you to know that I see you," he said, his voice low and steady.
"I see how much heart you put into your baking. How much you care about this, about everything." 
He paused, his Adam’s apple bobbing. 
"And I see that I hurt you, and I hate that."
You stared at him, at the raw emotion in his eyes. Slowly, you picked up a fork and took a bite of the cake.
It was perfect. Moist, spiced just right, and the frosting was tangy and smooth.
"Damn you," you muttered, your voice thick.
"That bad?" he asked, a flicker of amusement breaking through his tension.
"No," you huffed. "It’s amazing."
His lips twitched. "Good."
Setting the fork down, you stepped closer until there was barely an inch between you. His breath hitched as your hand pressed against his chest, the heat of him seeping into your palm.
"You really want this?" you murmured. "Us?"
Bucky didn’t hesitate.
"Yes," he said firmly, his voice steady. "I do."
Your fingers curled into his shirt, tugging him closer. He leaned in, and this time, when his lips found yours, it wasn’t gentle. It was fire, slow at first, then smoldering.
But then Bucky groaned against your mouth, a sound that sent shockwaves through you, and the heat increased. He kissed you like he’d been starving for it, like you were the only thing that could satisfy him.
You pulled him closer by his shirt and his hands slid past your waist, gripping your ass like he was grounding himself, like he was making sure this was real.
You broke the kiss just long enough to gasp, “Bucky,” but he swallowed whatever you were about to say, and lifted you onto the counter in one fluid motion.
You barely had time to register the cold marble beneath you before his hands were everywhere, skimming up your thighs, gripping your hips, and tracing fire along your skin. You hooked your legs around him, dragging him closer, until you could feel his hard cock in his jeans, letting you know just how much he wanted this, how much he wanted you.
“Your room or mine?” he rasped, his voice thick with need.
“Oh God…” 
You struggled to think through the haze of arousal clouding your mind. Your room at the back of the house was tucked away from everyone else. 
“Mine.”
Bucky kissed you again, his lips curling into a smirk. 
“Smart cookie.”
You giggled softly as he lifted you off the counter, and the two of you tried, and failed, to make it to your room quietly. By some miracle, you managed to shut the door before his hands were back on you.
"I've not been with anyone in over a year. Still get tested every six months."
Bucky's voice was sexy; what he was saying was even more so.
“But tell me to stop if you don’t want to do this,” he rasped against your neck. 
You tilted your head back, offering more. 
“Don’t you dare.”
A low growl rumbled from his chest as his mouth crashed back onto yours, his tongue sweeping past your lips with a hunger that left you breathless. His hands slipped beneath your shirt, fingertips skimming your tight nipples and drawing shivers in their wake.
He pulled back just enough to lift the hem of your shirt, his blue eyes searching yours. 
“Can I?”
You nodded, but he shook his head, his jaw tight. 
“Need you to say it.”
You stepped back, peeling your shirt off yourself, a teasing grin on your lips. 
“How’s that for consent? I want you tonight, Bucky Barnes. Got tested last month and I have an IUD. You can fuck me raw if you want.”
His breath hitched, his eyes darkening with raw, unfiltered desire. 
“Jesus,” he murmured, his hands spreading over you like he was memorizing the feel of you. “You’re perfect.”
His blue eyes glowed as he wrapped one hand around your neck, his thumb resting on your pulse point, making your heart flutter. 
You lifted his shirt and ran your fingers over his stomach and abs, exploring his warm skin as the kiss intensified even more. 
You reached for his shirt, sliding it up to reveal taut muscle and smooth skin. Your hands explored him, tracing the lines of his stomach as the kiss deepened.
You were aching for him. 
When his mouth moved lower, tracing hot kisses down your neck and between your collarbones, a soft moan escaped you. He didn’t stop there, his lips finding your nipples through the lace of your bra. The wet heat of his tongue teased you mercilessly until he unhooked the clasp.
“Bucky,” you gasped, your pussy clenching as his lips closed around your bare nipple. He suckled urgently, his hand massaging the other, and the pleasure shot straight to your core.
When he knelt in front of you, tugging your jeans and panties down, you gasped as you looked down into his shining blue eyes.
You stepped out of them and almost immediately, and he used his thumbs to spread your pussy lips open. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to you there.
“Been waiting to taste you, Baby Cakes,” he said, his voice a low rasp.
“Oh, fuck,” you mewled as his tongue parted your folds, licking a slow, deliberate stripe up your slit.
Bucky lifted one leg onto his shoulder and you arched against his mouth, gasping when he laved your clit and licked up the wetness collected in your slit.
“Mmmmm. Delicious,” Bucky’s eyes glinted up at you.
He groaned in satisfaction.
“Sweet, with just a hint of spice… just like I thought.”
You pushed Bucky’s head back to where it was meant be.
“Stop talking and eat me, Barnes.”
His chuckle vibrated against you, and then his tongue found your clit, sending a sharp spike of pleasure through your body. He licked and sucked, working you like it was his life’s purpose, and every flick of his tongue pushed you closer to the edge.
“Fuck, Bucky, I’m gonna…”
But he pulled back before you could finish, leaving you trembling and desperate. You barely had time to protest before he stood, kissed you hard, and moved you to the foot of the bed.
Clothes hit the floor in a blur, and when you finally looked down, his cock stood proudly between you. You sat down on the bed, and you were face to face with the most beautiful penis you’d ever seen.
It was long and thick and heavily veined with a large perfectly shaped head. Your mouth watered, and you looked up at him.
“Need to taste you now, Tough Guy.”
You leaned forward and licked him from base to head stopping to suck on it, relishing the tight flesh in your mouth, then slurped the pre-cum dripping from his slit. Then you pulled off, jacking him with the lubrication of your saliva.
“Tangy, yet surprisingly sweet. A piquant–”
Bucky cut you off by shoving his cock as far down your throat as he could. You moaned around him, adding to his pleasure. 
You looked up at him and his eyes were incandescent. You didn’t break eye contact as your throat constricted around his hardness, your mouth dripping with spit. Your eyes stung with tears, but you kept pushing until you were choking around the base of his big dick.
Bucky watched you with fascination, his hips involuntarily pushing shallowly into your mouth. 
“Christ. You’re gonna fucking ruin me,” he rasped. “So good. So perfect. But I knew you would be.”
You moaned at the praise, pulling off of him, long strings of fluid connecting your mouth to his delicious cock.
“Who knew that Baby Cakes was such a Dirty Girl,” he purred, eyes ablaze.  “Need to fuck you now, sweetheart.” 
You whimpered and leaned back as Bucky leaned over you and slid into you in one slow, deliberate thrust. You swore the world stopped spinning.
“Fuck, Baby…” 
His forehead dropped to yours, his voice trembling as he filled you slowly, completely. Your body arched, your nails digging into his shoulders as you reacted to the stretch.
“Bucky…”
“Look at me,” he murmured, his gaze locking with yours.
“Wanna see you.”
And then he moved, each thrust hitting you perfectly, dragging moans from your lips. After finding the technique to make you crumble around him, his control slipped, his movements grew frantic, desperate, and it was heaven.
“You’re mine,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. “Say it.”
“Yours,” you gasped, your body tightening around him. “Always.”
Your climax hit like a tidal wave, pulling you under. Bucky followed with a ragged groan, burying himself deep as he spilled into you.
When the world settled, he pressed a lazy kiss to your jaw, a smug grin tugging at his lips.
“Told you I’d win… you over.”
You huffed a breathless laugh, running your fingers through his damp curls.
“Asshole.”
His grin widened.
“Is that what you want me to taste next?”
His eyes flicked down your body.
“Seems to be lots of buttercream down there…”
“Bucky!” you yelped as he reached for you again.
—-
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kazumist · 25 days ago
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SWEETLY BAKED WITH LOVE .ᐟ
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✩ — in which zayne finds himself in a problem with his older patients relentlessly introducing and telling him about their daughters and granddaughters to him because he's single. what's a good way to shoo them off? perhaps wearing a keyring and fake dating your friend would do the trick!
✩ — includes: zayne x f!baker!reader. fluff. fake dating trope (not executed properly sorry i dont think i gave it justice), not much drama and confession scene is a bit boring imo :/, pace is a bit messy, based of that one part in the cdrama "the best thing", cw: food mentioned (baked sweets and wine), they're both idiots in love, wc: 7,166. i went insane Yes so what.
✩ — note: hi babes @koiukiy-o it's finally finished like can u believe it. i finished it in one fucking day initially but i woke up at 6am in the morning today (its around half past 7am by the time posting this) and added a bit more.
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for zayne, being a young, famous, and favored doctor in akso hospital isn’t as pleasing as it sounds. only because the majority of his older patients try to match him up with their daughters with every given chance during their appointments scheduled with him. 
at first, it wasn’t all that serious. zayne even initially thought that maybe elderlies these days have started to grow accustomed to sharing stories of their children—of their daughters, specifically, who are coincidentally in the same age range as him. perhaps it was a new thing; yeah, that was probably it.
until the introductions became more frequent. 
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ONE: AS SURPRISING AS A SUDDEN BLUEBERRY CHEESECAKE AT YOUR DOOR.
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from a father whose daughter is a successful certified public accountant (CPA) to a mother whose daughter is currently a cardiology resident in a nearby hospital, the names and positions of these women have started to jumble in his head. all zayne could do is take a deep breath and smoothly deflect the questions of his patients regarding his current relationship status.
“dr. zayne, you know, i have this daughter..." here we go again. zayne tunes out whatever the old woman was saying, nodding every now and then to convince her that he was interested. the old woman’s daughter was something of a business owner, though it’s not like zayne is actually paying that much attention to the description his patient was giving him. his focus is solely on the results that are in his hands.
“do you have someone special in your life right now, dr. zayne?” zayne pauses; the shuffling of the lab reports in his hands stopped as he processed the question. 
does he?
zayne doesn’t think that he does.
he has a few people that he cherishes in his life, yes. but does he think of himself settling down with someone by his side? well… not really—not yet, at least. zayne hasn’t given it that much thought himself. “before i answer that question, let’s discuss what your results have given us…” this method of zayne changing the subject works like a charm every time he does it. and with a blink of an eye, the old woman forgot her question and left after getting her new prescriptions from him.
zayne leans back on his chair, taking off his specs and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. he takes a deep breath, until his peace is interrupted by a knock at his door. the old woman should’ve been the last one; yvonne just came in and told him so not so long ago. he sits up right, fixing his posture as his professionalism starts to take over.
yet when the door creaks open to reveal you, zayne’s shoulders relax as he sits back once again.
maybe his peace wasn’t interrupted after all.
“what brings you here?” he asks you, eyeing you suspiciously as you’re obviously hiding something from him behind your back. “i come bearing gifts—one sweet little blueberry cheesecake from your favorite bakery! tadaaaa!” you say, revealing the little box to zayne and settling it on his desk, hoping he’d also envision the imaginary jazz hands you were doing before putting a plastic fork on top of it for him to use.
zayne has a sweet tooth and that’s practically common knowledge to you. and with you owning a bakery... well, let’s just say that the youngest heart surgeon in linkon city plays his favorites when it comes to shops that sell sweet pastries. 
a smile cracks onto his face as he sees the box. gently removing the fork on top and opening the box, zayne inspects the blueberry cheesecake before him as if contemplating if he should eat it now or save it when he gets home. “you don’t have to eat it now, silly. i just wanted to drop it off before your work ends today,” you say.
“no, it’s alright. i’ll eat it now. the toppings could get ruined when i travel back home.”
as he starts taking a few bites, you propped your chin onto your palm and lean on it, staring at the sweet dessert that’s slowly being consumed right in front of you. “sooo, do you have someone in your life right now, dr. zayne?” you asked him, putting emphasis on the way you called him as a sign of mockery.
zayne deadpans at your question, suddenly stopping himself from getting another bite. his expression is clearly conveying a message to you wordlessly: are you being serious right now? but zayne just sighs and continues on getting another bite before replying. “how did you know about that?”
“i heard you two through the door. and when your last patient came out—she was a delight, by the way, greeting me so kindly—she suddenly asked me if i was your girlfriend! i obviously didn’t answer her properly and good thing yvonne came in to save the day and escort her out of the cardiology department.” you told him.
the sweetness of the small piece of blueberry glides across his senses as he listens to you. zayne finds himself sighing deeply for what seems like the nth today, twirling the fork in his hand as he thinks. he doesn’t like burdening this problem of his with you, especially when you have nothing to do with it. “seems like you’re thinking about a lot there. are your thoughts being consumed by the numerous names that got mentioned to you?” you teased.
“i beg your pardon?”
“i was only kidding! you looked so deep in thought there. is everything alright?”
zayne doesn’t know either. he doesn’t know how long he could keep deflecting and changing the topics when his patients try to pry into this part of his life. he has a soft spot for his patients, sure, and he’s satisfied with his job. though zayne didn’t know that he would be signing up for this when he became a cardiac surgeon.
“yes, my apologies. i seemed to have spaced out for a moment there.”
you glance over him, observing his mannerisms and his habits. whenever zayne twirls or plays with the item in his hand, it means he’s thinking. whenever he sits back on his chair, that means he’s relaxed. yet you never seen him space out—not until now, at least—and that’s what’s different.
odd.
but you didn’t push the topic further, as you’re well aware that zayne isn’t the type to express himself so freely. and as if a light bulb literally just gained it’s light inside your brain, the gears inside your head started turning as you suddenly got an idea. “i think i just got the greatest idea of my life.” you asked him.
“and what would that be?” he asks back. should i be scared? he thinks.
“you’ll see! just you wait and look forward to the next time i’ll drop by and visit.” you flash him a grin as zayne finishes the last bit of the blueberry cheesecake.
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TWO: AS ENTICING AS SIX MACARONS SERVED RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.
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the next time you saw each other, you didn’t visit zayne. zayne visited you, striding towards you sitting behind the counter. today was a saturday. and during saturdays, you open your shop a bit later than your usual opening time during weekdays. 
seeing the doctor visit your shop sometimes gives you a pinch of nostalgia coursing through you. you never would’ve expected to form a connection with a praised doctor in linkon in your life. but you don’t really have any regrets about it. you enjoy the surgeon’s company and he seems to enjoy yours.
“and what brings you here today, dr. zayne?” you say, greeting him as his eyes scan the pastries displayed before him. “please, refrain from the formalities. do you have anything new to recommend?” he replies.
your gaze follows his as you join him in looking for a pastry to offer. “hmm… oh! i know! you could taste test a new macaron flavor i’ve been trying. would you mind taking a seat while i got get them for you?” zayne nods before finding himself a seat and you take that as your cue to start running towards the kitchen located at the inner part of your establishment. 
when you got out, you joined him at the two-seater table he decided on, sitting across from him. “lately, i’ve been indulging myself in making macarons, right? and i wanted a different flavor for a change so i paired two ingredients together! take a bite and guess what it is.” you said, pushing the box of macarons towards him.
zayne inspects the macarons in front of him, attempting to deduce the flavor. it has a light brown color, with the filling having a deeper shade of brown. could it be two types of chocolate? he thinks. 
“staring at it will get you nowhere if you don’t actually taste it, you know.”
he snaps out of his thoughts at your words. he awkwardly coughs into his fist, avoiding your gaze. you stifled a laugh at him but zayne noticed it, feeling his ears grow hot. “ahem. pardon me for that. i’ll taste them now.” he says, grabbing a piece of the pastry. as soon as he takes a bite, the familiar taste of coffee beans (perhaps roasted?) and nutella washes over his tongue.
you were right; this was a different flavor that you don’t see often. “it’s delicious. were the coffee beans roasted? or were they grounded?” a small gasp escapes your lips at his question. “it was roasted, yeah! i’m surprised you noticed that; i didn’t think anyone would.”
“i felt the small chunks of the coffee beans as i chewed. and nutella as a filling balances the taste of the beans. i’d say it’s a good product to endorse.”
“really?”
zayne hums in agreement, finishing the macaron in his hand before grabbing another one from the box. “i recall that you haven’t told me your “idea” yet since the last time we saw each other.” he says, before taking another bite.
“oh! sorry about that; i keep forgetting to stop by akso hospital lately. but worry not—i didn’t forget about my idea!” you replied, fishing something out of your pocket. it was a keyring, though it wasn’t that obvious at first glance. “your idea is... a keyring?” he asks.
“wrong, the keyword is ring!” you say, grabbing his hand to check if it fits on his ring finger.
you seemed unaware of the effect of your actions, suddenly taking zayne by surprise by your sudden touch. he feels the cold metal wrap around the ring finger of his dominant hand. “look, it’s a perfect fit! just remember to always have it on, especially when you have appointments and surely those introductions would be gone, right?”
zayne inspects the keyring around his finger, flipping his hand as he takes it in. “i never would’ve expected that a keyring could act as a marriage ring.” he states. “m-marriage ring?!” you exclaimed. i never really thought of it as that. you thought, mentally sweatdropping. “is it not supposed to be?” zayne’s gaze at you shows obvious confusion. “well… i guess it could serve as that. i just thought of it as some fake promise ring that you could use at most.”
“the purpose is the same. i don’t think it matters what it stands for—the main purpose of this is to show my older patients that i’m taken, right?”
“yup! it’s nothing much, really, but i feel bad for what you have to endure when you have your appointments. do you think it would work?” you reply.
“we just have to play our cards right and then we’ll see.”
“mhm! wait—we?”
“yes, we. did i say something wrong?” there he goes again with the confused look.
“what do you mean… we?” this better not be what i’m thinking. you hoped, bracing yourself for whatever bomb he was about to drop.
but just as your luck to that runs out, zayne replies. “i thought we were both going to be wearing keyrings?” fuck, i knew it. you thought. inside your head, you can envision yourself on all fours, punching the ground as you also try to think of something—anything to reply with. 
“but you’re the only one who has this... conflict. what use would it be if i also wore one?”
before zayne could even realize it, he already took a step and started sailing in dangerous, uncharted waters. “you told me a few times, including the time that you last visited, that my patients have wondered and asked if you were my significant other. wouldn’t it be more convincing if we were to uphold that sentiment?”
you swore you could feel your soul drain itself out of your body.
“so you want us to... fake date, basically? so we could stop your older patients from introducing their endless amount of daughters and granddaughters? did i get that right?” you ask again, just to be sure if what you’re hearing is actually right and real.
“yes, you’re quite spot-on.” 
“you’re lucky that i have two keyrings by coincidence.”
well, it’s not like it’s going to be anything serious. and it’s also beneficial for me because they also pester me with their questions every time i visit. the offer is way a bit enticing for it’s own good—but everything should be fine.
with a soft sigh and one macaron left on the box (you and zayne were snacking on them as you had your discussion), you spoke again. “you’ve got yourself a deal. you better start wearing that keyring, dr. zayne.”
“i don’t think you should be calling me that when we’re supposed to portray ourselves like a couple.” he remarked.
you choke on your own saliva at his statement. “w-we’ll talk about the other details another day! how does the next time i visit—which i actually promise to do now—sound?” cursing yourself for stammering (but how could you not when he caught you so off guard?), you try your best not to embarrass yourself any further. “that sounds good.”
as the last macaron on the box you served gets consumed, you find yourself securing a peculiar deal with a certain heart surgeon.
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THREE: AS SOUR AS A BITE OF STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE MELTING ON YOUR TONGUE.
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staying true to your promise, you visited zayne a few days after his visit to your bakery. you had the same keyring wrapped around your ring finger, hoping to find zayne the same. “are you busy?”
he glances at you from his monitor and you notice that his shoulders relax again when he realizes it was you in the doorway. “what pastry do you have in store for me this time?” he asks you as you approach to have yourself a seat on the small couch.
“sadly there’s no pastry today; i accidentally forgot to grab one from the bakery’s fridge before i left but next time i’ll bring you some strawberry shortcake!”
“i’ll take note of that.”
zayne then continues to speak. “about where we stopped our discussion last time... would it be okay with you to completely drop with the formalities in general? you don’t have to call me dr. zayne, especially when we’re in the hospital.”
“what do i call you then?”
“zayne would be just fine. almost no one calls me that here.”
“zayne, huh… zayne, zayne… zayne.” you repeat his name to get yourself used to it. “alright then, doct—i mean, zayne.”
he nods at you in acknowledgement as you shift your gaze at his dominant hand. surely enough, you saw that keyring on his finger. “i see you’re wearing the keyring. did it work so far?” you ask him. “actually, yes, it did. the introductions lessened and i found myself at peace with most of my appointments today.”
“so my plan does work. huh, i never would’ve thought.” zayne takes this as an opportunity to reply. “how about you? did your keyring work?” 
“not yet, i guess? when i arrived, yvonne told me that your appointments and checkups were done for the day. so i didn’t really encounter any of your patients today. maybe next time.”
-
zayne visited your bakery during the weekend again. although unfortunately, you weren’t there. one of your employees said that you were busy with an errand today so zayne just got a slice of yet another blueberry cheesecake on the go and quickly made his leave.
(he doesn’t see why he would stay when he isn’t sure of what time you’d return.)
-
the next time you and zayne saw each other, you had forgotten to bring the strawberry shortcake you told him back then. but what did happen is that you encountered a few familiar patients of zayne’s. they were all women who looked like they’re in their mid-sixties in a group of three. they were chatting nearby the entrance to zayne’s office when they spotted you.
and apparently, one of them recognized you.
“hello, dear. you’re the one who brings dr. zayne snacks, right? i remember seeing you here before.” she says, approaching you. “ah, yes! that would be me.” you let out a soft chuckle at her. “how kind of you to do so! are you perhaps his girlfriend?” another woman asks. the woman who approached you (who introduced herself as violet), shushes her friend. “don’t throw sudden questions at the lady! sorry about her, dear.”
the third woman in their group suddenly perks up and points at your hand. “look violet, her ring looks familiar... where have i seen it before, i wonder?” as soon as she said that, all three of the women’s attention was now all on your hand with the keyring on it. 
“isn’t that like the ring on dr. zayne’s hand?”
there was then a moment of silence before they all realized what that question meant. 
after escaping the clutches of their neverending queries (that you tried to answer as much as you could, and you never could’ve escaped without yvonne’s help of escorting them out), you finally got to knock on zayne’s office.
“come in.” his voice sounds muffled through the door.
once you settle down yourself inside, you let out a huge and relieved sigh. “was there a commotion outside? i heard multiple voices through the door, one of them being yours.” zayne asks.
“ah, well it turns out that your patients are really observant. did you know i had to make up some fake story on the spot of how we met?”
“is that so? do you mind telling me what this story is? they might ask about it the next time they come for a checkup.” he replies. 
the actual story of how you and zayne met wasn’t really that far off from the one you told the small group of old ladies. 
(it was dusk when you encountered zayne on the sidewalk; you accidentally bumped into him and he noticed you were seemingly in a rush. “oh my god, i’m so sorry! i wasn’t looking where i was running.” zayne waves his hand dismissively. “it’s alright, are you hurt?” 
“not at all—” you checked the time with your wrist watch. “crap! uhm, excuse me, sir. do you know if there’s a flower shop nearby here? i’m in a terrible need of dried flowers at the moment.” you ask him.
zayne thought about it for a moment, trying to recall if there is one. he then tells you the directions to the flower shop he has seen in the area and you immediately thanked him. “thank you, thank you so much! feel free to drop by the cozy oven. my treat for helping me! thank you again, kind sir!” you say before running off in the direction he told you.
that was first time you met him and you were sure that was also the first time he met you.
but what if it isn’t?)
“oh, you know, i just told them some silly old cliche where i bumped into you while holding two bouquets of flowers and decided to treat you to some coffee as an apology. nothing that out of the ordinary, really.”
“noted. they’ll probably ask me about which bouquet it was next time.” this time it was his turn to let out a sigh.
“oh yeah! one of my staff members said you visited the bakery last weekend. sorry, i was busy that time. my friend ordered a cake for this event and i was also invited to it so i had to leave the job of handling the bakery to my employees.” you told him. “it’s alright, don’t fret.”
that day ended with zayne offering you a ride home.
-
the next few times you and zayne were together after that, you swear something was changing.
you never thought zayne could be the touchy type; he grabs ahold of your hand, going as far as interlocking your fingers together. hell, he even puts his hand on your waist when you’re walking in public.
you knew what you were getting into when you both agreed on that deal. but it’s just so... strange. scary, if you think about it.
how is he so good at this? no, more like—
why does it feel so real?
zayne is an attractive man, and that was certainly a fact. smart, rich, handsome, and well-mannered—he’s even soft spoken for goodness sake! that man has got it all, which is no wonder why some of his patients would want to set up their daughter with him. any woman would be lucky to experience what it’s like to be loved by him.
but is this what it feels like?
perhaps.
that was all you could say—after all, this is all just a fake setup so you both could shoo away his patients.
yet if it was all fake, why were your faces suddenly so close to one another right now? your lips were close to brushing against each other; one small nudge and you’d find out what it was like to kiss zayne.
the sudden phone ring echoing somewhere in the room snaps the both of you out of it.
as you both pull away out of surprise, zayne picks up the phone. “this is zayne speaking.” he says.
you just sat there on his couch, wondering many things.
it’s just a fake stunt. don’t get sidetracked, (y/n).
but why is it that whenever you remind yourself that it is fake, an uncertain pang hits your chest? you never could tell zayne this; he might think you suddenly have a heart condition and be concerned (and you wouldn’t be surprised because he is someone who is under cardiology).
this could be nothing. no, scratch that; it is nothing. zayne is an impossible man to reach, and he is only a friend to you.
nothing more, nothing less.
-
the next time you visited zayne at akso hospital, you finally had a slice of strawberry shortcake stored safely in a box for him.
you were still distracted by the time you two almost kissed, but you couldn’t let zayne know that for obvious reasons.
at this point in your fake dating plan, his patients are all convinced that you both are together, finding it cute and squealing in awe when you see each other in the hallway where his office is located. you were surprised at how well you and zayne were pulling this off. 
“special delivery for dr. zayne?” you say, peeking through the door to check if he’s busy. “and what did i order this time?” he asks back. you take that as your cue to step inside. “one slice of a promised and long overdue strawberry shortcake!” you told him, setting down the small box and another plastic fork on top of the box.
“about time you remembered.” he says, taking the fork and opening the box. the familiar scent of strawberry shortcake then circulates around the two of you, which made zayne take a bite almost immediately. “are you planning on visiting the bakery this weekend?” you then ask him.
zayne swallows before he speaks. “i have thought about it, yes. and i was actually planning to ask you about your weekend plans today actually.”
“oh? why?”
“i was just wondering if you’d like to make plans with me since i’m usually off-duty during weekends.”
you become a bit awkward as soon as zayne says that. and zayne, being as observant as ever, obviously noticed it. “is there something wrong? it’s okay if you’re busy.” you waved your hands at him, “no, no! it’s not like that. well, kinda i guess? ugh, it’s just that…”
“i may or may not have agreed to go on a blind date this weekend.”
if zayne hadn’t listened that carefully, he would’ve missed it. but no, he caught every single word that slipped out of you. the sour taste of the sliced strawberry, along with the spongy texture of the cake, suddenly felt like sand in zayne’s mouth. and as ironic as that, he suddenly feels iffy as soon as you say that—like he was also sour. “is that so… that’s alright. you should enjoy your plans instead.”
“wait. you’re not mad?”
am i mad? zayne mentally asked himself. he doesn’t think he is, but he does somewhat feel disturbed by the idea of you going on a date with another man, and that doesn’t feel right to him either. “i’m not. why would i be mad?” a lie.
you stiffen at your seat, trying to come up with an explanation. that question just slipped off of your tongue; you didn’t mean to ask that. “well, uhm.. you know, because we’re in this fake dating thingy, i just thought it would be weird to you if i were to go see someone else and all that, yeah.”
“you said it yourself; this is all fake. so i’m not stopping you if you want to do that.”
ouch? why does his confirmation that it’s nothing serious get a kick to it? you thought. “really? okay then, thanks for letting me know.” 
zayne couldn’t shake off the sourness of the strawberry from his tongue. and the thing is—the strawberries that you use for your products aren’t even that sour. it was more sweet than sour in the first place. so why? why can’t he get the sourness off?
why does he suddenly feel so bitter at the thought of you seeing someone else?
the rest of the hour felt a bit suffocating after that.
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FOUR: AS BLAND AS MISSING THE DELECTABLE TASTE OF YOUR COMPANY.
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when the weekend rolled around, zayne didn’t visit your bakery. he didn’t find a need to because you weren’t there. he wasn’t close to your staff and he doesn’t really want to get close to them. and zayne isn’t that close with a lot of people in general, so he decided to spend his weekend at home.
he thinks about the conversation he had with you when you brought up the topic of having a blind date scheduled today.
and he still feels sour about that. he doesn’t know why. 
then he suddenly remembers the one time when he was so close to feeling your lips on his. zayne hoped that he wasn’t obvious but this moment had perhaps made him short circuit. your face was so close—he could take every little detail of your features with the distance.
but you just had to have this blind date today.
zayne feels even more sour after that.
he was a doctor, yes, but he obviously isn’t an expert in psychology or emotions. so as he unlocks his phone, he opens the web browser installed and types in the search bar.
now, jealousy was a foreign concept for zayne. 
he stares blankly at the results his search shows him, a part of him refusing to believe that what he was feeling was jealousy and the rational part of him telling himself that if this isn’t it, what else could it be?
but another question puts him in a dilemma. why is he even jealous in the first place? 
of course you can go see other people. he doesn’t have the right to be mad about that. zayne didn’t own you, and you didn’t own zayne. if he were in your position, you’d just let him go on that blind date.
yet the idea of you falling in love with another makes him uneasy.
oh.
oh.
zayne wasn’t stupid. he didn’t need to drown himself in any more thoughts on this matter to realize what was happening to him.
he was falling.
falling for you, to be specific.
and there’s nothing that could help him.
-
being forced into a blind date never goes well. and you swore that you'd strangle your friend who forced you into this in the first place.
“so, what do you do for a living?” your date asks before sipping from his glass of red wine. “oh, i’m a baker. i run a bakery, actually. it’s located nearby akso hospital.” 
“is that so? what do you usually bake?”
“i bake all sorts of things! from cakes to macarons—“ you pause when you say macarons. you suddenly recall the day when you asked zayne to taste test your new macaron flavor. you cleared your throat to regain composure.
“sorry about that; something just came to mind. but like i said, i bake a whole lot of cakes and pastries. i like to experiment with new flavors, you see. what about you?”
“oh, i’m currently a resident at akso hospital actually!” the man before you says. “really? under which department?” you ask him. “cardiology. i always found the heart a fascinating thing to study.”
you tried to hold yourself back from choking on your wine. “c-cardiology, you say…?” hearing the term come out of your date’s mouth has something uncomfortable bubbling up inside of you. your mind finds itself drifting back to zayne—
what am i even thinking? get a grip (y/n)! you’re on a date for fuck’s sake!
“mhm. one of my mentors is really nice, a bit cold but i know he’s just really like that. his name is dr. zayne, by the way.” and as if the universe is mocking you right now, your date just had to say that his mentor was zayne of all people.
“i think i’ve heard of him once or twice, yeah. he’s a good heart surgeon, right?”
as time seemed to pass by, you could feel yourself feeling more distracted. when the waiter came to ask if you’d like any dessert, your mind immediately thought of zayne.
while looking through the dessert menu, you wondered if zayne would like what this restaurant is offering. what would zayne’s opinion be on this? 
and your date continues to speak, the sole fact that he’s a resident under zayne, was enough to sidetrack your mind towards him. 
zayne, zayne, zayne. this whole date has done nothing but remind you of the doctor.
by the time the date was over, you entered the door to your apartment complex (which is located above your bakery) and slid against the door as soon as you closed it.
removing your heels as you were on the floor, you let out a sigh. “what the fuck is going on with me tonight?” you asked no one in particular.
the date wasn’t even bad but nothing about it felt right for you. like there was something clearly wrong with the whole principle of you going on a blind date in the first place but you didn’t know what it was.
you try to recall what happened before the blind date happened, trying to see if something would have triggered your current state.
your recollection brings you to the time you told zayne about the blind date a few days ago. 
something felt off about him when you dropped the bomb on him that time. it’s as if something shifted in the air when you revealed your plans for the weekend to him.
“oh, god. you have got to be kidding me.” you facepalmed when the realization dawned upon you.
your thoughts were running. how could’ve i been so stupid? it was written all over my face in the first place! i like zayne. holy shit i actually—
but it all stops there when you then realize what you just said. 
-
you didn’t visit zayne after your blind date. and when he visits your bakery, you hide yourself from him in the kitchen (and you also told your employees to not spill a word about your actual whereabouts, making them form excuses on what you’re up to). 
simply to say, you were avoiding zayne.
it scared you. you didn’t know what to do with your new feelings, especially when the whole fake dating thing was still ongoing for the both of you. 
how can you keep faking it all up when everything just feels so real? when you couldn’t help but wonder if you’re still friends after everything you’ve done?
zayne: Are you going to visit today?
zayne: I miss getting my special delivery.
you stared at his message, trying to process it. why did he have to say it like that? what does he mean by that? you thought.
(y/n): sorry, i can’t. 
(y/n): i need to prioritize some cake orders for now. maybe next time.
zayne: Oh, alright then.
you know full well that there most probably won’t be a next time. you’ll just keep denying and deflecting as much as you can—and as long as you can.
however, zayne knew you were avoiding him and he most definitely didn’t need to be a genius to notice that. 
but he doesn’t know why. was it something that he did? were you alright? perhaps you haven’t been feeling well as of late. were you overworking yourself lately?
zayne thinks about the time you two almost kissed again. maybe he should’ve gone for it. maybe he shouldn’t have answered that goddamn phone call. maybe—
maybe he shouldn’t have let you go on that blind date.
your phone vibrates against the pocket of your apron. you pull it out to check the notification and go blank at the sender.
zayne: Have you been well?
zayne: We haven’t seen each other lately.
his clinic hours are not the same as of late. zayne got so used to you visiting him at akso—to seeing you in general—that it just feels... bland now that you’re not present.
zayne misses you. and he wonders if you miss him too.
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FIVE: AS SWEET AS KNOWING THAT I WASN’T TOO LATE.
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(before you bumped into zayne on the sidewalk, you two had actually met.
once in a cafe, and once in the grocery store... zayne had noticed that since you two lived in the same community, it was bound that you’d encounter each other a lot—although you don’t really seem to notice him.
when zayne met you in the grocery store, the first thing that he noticed about you was that your shopping cart was halfway filled with baking ingredients. there were at least three (or was it four?) dozen of eggs stacked, two packs of all-purpose flour, a small bottle of sprinkles (both the colorful and chocolate ones), and a whole lot more.
at first glance, any other person would ignore you. zayne would be one of them—he had no clue why he noticed you and your shopping cart. he was only in the aisle because it’s the way to where the bread was located.
that was the first time zayne sees you.
the second time he saw you, zayne encountered you in a cafe this time. weeks passed since he saw you while he was out for groceries and you had papers sprawled all over the small table in front of you. zayne didn’t really get a good look at them but he assumed that it was all sorts of cake design from the single glance he got to have.
wedding cakes, birthday cakes, anniversary cakes. there were a whole bunch of designs. perhaps you baked for a living.
again, at first glance, any other person would ignore you. and zayne would still be one of them—though would this become a lie because isn’t it strange that it has happened twice? not like there’s anything bad with noticing you. it’s just... out of his character, per se.
the third time zayne meets you, it was the time you also recall—the encounter on the sidewalk. now, what were the chances that zayne would meet you there that late afternoon? he didn’t know. 
and with that small conversation between the two of you happening, zayne’s assumption was correct. the baking ingredients, the cake designs, and now you telling him to visit your bakery—
maybe he should visit the cozy oven during the weekend.)
around three weeks have passed since you started ignoring him. you were surprised at how well you were doing so far. not like it was hard doing so. the real challenge was to ignore his texts and make yourself reply late. 
and when he visits the bakery, which is what’s going on right now.
it was almost nine in the evening when you finished closing up your bakery. you heard footsteps getting louder, signaling that someone is walking towards you. 
“there you are.” you knew that voice anywhere.
“zayne? what are you doing here at this hour?” you ask him out of surprise. “well, a certain someone seems to be hiding from me, so i thought it was time to change my strategy and do a surprise attack. it looks like it worked.”
“ah. sorry about that... work has been a bit busy. you know?” you take in zayne’s appearance before you, eyes slightly widening at the keyring that is still on his finger.
(how ironic because you were also wearing yours at the moment. your excuse would be “it was out of pure habit.”)
“so busy that even when i visit you hide yourself from me?”
he got you there. “i—no, no! it’s just that—“ zayne cuts you off with another question. “did i do something wrong?”
“what?”
“you heard me. (y/n), did i do something wrong? i understand that you’ve been busy but something feels different. like there’s something more to it than just you being busy.” he then says. why does he have to be always so observant?
the guilt of your decisions as of late started to eat you up inside. “i… i don’t know.”
“you don’t know?” zayne asks again.
“i mean, it’s not like i literally don’t know but it’s just... did we even do the right thing? you know, fake date and all of that.”
zayne could feel the unease creeping up on him with your question. “the plan worked, did it not?”
“no, zayne. what i mean is that did we do the right thing with fake dating in the first place? because for the love of god, we almost kissed! and—and we’re both old enough to realize that friends don’t just... kiss.”
“is this about your blind date a few weeks ago?” you don’t know what he means by that. because you never met up again with that blind date, telling him that as much as it was nice to know him, you’re not really interested in giving romance a whirl for now. 
you didn’t know what to answer to that. “so it is.” he then says. you wanted to say no, but no words came out of you. it was as if your lips felt like they were sewn closed. “i guess i was too late then.”
too late?
“wait—what do you mean too late?”
zayne’s look in his eyes confused you. you couldn’t decipher the emotions that were present in his gaze. “aren’t you still seeing your blind date nowadays?”
then it all made sense to you.
zayne thinks the reason you started avoiding him was probably because he thought you hit it off with your blind date. before you could answer his question, he speaks again. “to be honest with you, recently, especially during your absence, i have come to the realization that i like you, (y/n).”
wait. what?
too speechless to cut in, he continues. “i felt off when you first said that you agreed to that blind date of yours. i just brushed it off back then but later i realized that it was because i was jealous. i soon regretted not doing anything about it—and when you started ignoring me, i couldn’t help but think that maybe you didn’t want to visit me anymore in my office as a sign of respect to your new lover.” in other words, i missed you.
you try to process everything that he just came clean about. but there is only one highlight in everything he said—he likes you. zayne likes you.
and you like him too.
“first of all, i’m really sorry for ignoring you, zayne. i honestly only did it out of fear because i recently realized that i like you too.” zayne was about to speak up when you raised a hand to shush him. “let me finish first. i never met with my blind date again after our first meeting. i told him that i kindly told him that i didn’t want to try romance for now—though that was partially a lie because i only find myself wanting to try romance out with you.”
zayne also only got one highlight out of that—you like him too. that’s all that matters to him.
“so i wasn’t too late?” he then asks.
you take a few steps closer to him. “no, zayne. you’re just in time.”  zayne’s hands find themselves on your waist. “then can i kiss you?” you shoot him a playful glare. “are you sure a phone call isn’t going to interrupt us this time?” you then say, arms wrapping themselves around his neck.
“i’m sure.”
“then you can.”
and without hesitation, zayne leans in to capture your lips with his. he could feel you smiling in the kiss, and zayne savors the faint taste of your lippie—not minding that it might have smudged on his lips now.
when you both pulled away, you couldn’t help but giggle. zayne’s lips were covered in some of your tinted lip gloss. you reach out a hand to smudge it away before pecking him a quick kiss to his nose and asking him, “do you want to come inside? i have a new macaron flavor for you to taste test.”
“is that so? what is it this time?” he replies, hands not leaving your waist.
“salted caramel! but not the ones that are sweet; i made sure that this one actually has a salty kick to it!”
zayne definitely has a sweet tooth.
yet there’s nothing more sweet than knowing that you like him too.
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avocado-writing · 7 months ago
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Hi dear! I would like to appreciate your works. I really enjoy everything you wrote, Wish you have a great day! 💗
Since you're taking requests, could you please write Wade with a polite, sweet and delicate partners. He's with a person who's the definition of "Too pure for this world and MUST be PROTECTED at all cost" His partner showers him with love and validation, and always love to listen to him! Thanks! 💓
possibly based on real life events.
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Wade Wilson is so in love, it must be sickening to everyone around him. 
In fact he knows it is and he does not care. He’ll say “look at this meme the love of my life sent me!” and the person who he shows will roll their eyes, as if you don’t have incredible taste in cat pictures. He’ll monologue constantly about how cute you are and how much he loves that scrunchy thing you do with your nose. He’s recited committed-to-memory facts about you so many times that his friends can parrot them too. 
“Yes, I know what their favourite film is, I know you took them to a special viewing of it for their birthday. It’s cute, Wade,” says Laura, patting him on the arm condescendingly. Well, it’s not his fault you’re so wonderful! There isn’t a single thing about you that’s not perfect. He’s constantly bowled over about just how much affection he can fit in his body for you. The other night he was going on about something stupid - he can’t even remember what now, maybe it was about the new Taco Bell menu? - and then realised you hadn’t interrupted him once to shut him up like most people would.
You’d looked over the top of your magazine at him when he’d pointed this out, brow cocked.
“Why would I want you to shut up? I like listening to you talk, Wade.”
Marry you. He’s going to marry you. Every day, then divorce you every day too so he can marry you again. 
You are probably too good for him. Most of his social circle thinks so. You’re patient and kind, when you’re not at your job - where you work at a charity adopting out senior animals, as if you could be any more of a fucking angel - you like to spend your time in his shitty little kitchen, baking desserts for him to get home to. He’ll find you getting Al to taste test for you and his apartment full of laughter and joy. 
Man, he’s definitely put on like, six pounds since the two of you started dating. He needs to be stronger in the face of your cupcakes. 
They are really fucking good though. 
He walks in that night with a plushie under his arm. It’s a cow. He remembers you mentioning offhand how cute you thought cows were, so he decided to grab the biggest one the toy store one the way home had just because he knows it’ll make you smile. You don’t need any more stuffed toys; you sleep with them all in the bed and they’re pushing him off the side at this point because of their sheer number but, well, he likes seeing you happy. 
And then he hears sobbing. 
“Sweetheart?” he asks, immediately panicked. Are you injured? Has someone come to hurt you - has he painted a target on your back because of his job? Bile fills his throat as he stumbles forward…
��and there you are, sitting in front of the TV, PlayStation controller in your lap as tears run down your face while the end of the game plays out. Wade has never felt such relief in his life, laughing as the ache of it is taken from his chest. You turn to him with wide, watery eyes. 
“Don’t you laugh at me, Wade Wilson!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But babe… are you crying at the end of Kingdom Hearts?”
“No!” you lie, trying to mop your face off with your sleeve. Then the music hits its crescendo from the crappy speakers and you start wailing all over again. 
He loves you. He’d kill a million billion people for you. It would take a hell of a long time but hey, one word and he’d do it. If anyone even lifted a finger to hurt you he’d execute them so thoroughly that every generation of their family would be wiped out of existence too. 
To put it in terms you’d approve of, he’d do anything for you. But he also knows you’d never ask him to. You’re just that wonderful. 
“… would it help if I got us take-out and you started playing the second one?”
“Uh-huh,” you manage to confirm. 
“I could be in this fucking game, beat Donald Duck’s little feathery ass. Disney, make it happen.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry about it. Pizza or Chinese?”
Taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk
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xetlynn · 3 months ago
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I had an idea for claggor with a reader who is basically Gordon Ramsey. LMAO, I mean, she's like a 5 star michelin chef/baker type. She can make delicious meals out of scratch and cheap ingredients (maybe she works with Jericho, and that's how they met ???👀) your claggor work is so amazing. I'd love to see what you do with this!!
arcane imagines- claggor
my personal chef
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[arcane] [main page]
prompt: Claggor is helping you set up yours and Jericho’s new restaurant
“Clag, help!” You grit through your teeth as you were on a ladder, trying to hold up a heavy box that was slipping off of the shelf. “Babe!” You cry, his head pops up from underneath the counter as he was currently trying to fix an electrical problem. But seeing you in distress he automatically rushes to your side. 
“I told you to wait, [Name].” He frowns, holding the box so you can climb back down. He steps up, pushing the box back up. “I got impatient.” You sheepishly look away from him. He places his hands on his hips, towering over you. “Well, listen to me next time please.” He sighs, giving you a disappointed look to which you smile. “Sorry, babe.” You stand on your tiptoes and peck his lips. 
“Mhm, you’re going to not listen to me again so your sorry means nothing to me.” He heads back over to the counter, getting back to what he was doing. “Mm, you’re right.” You nod your head, eyeing that box with a hateful glare. 
The two of you were fixing up an old shop and turning it into a small restaurant. You used to work for Jericho and he’s branching his own business out. Since he trusts you he decided to make you a co-owner for this place. 
And here you are. You truly enjoyed working and cooking for Jericho. He practically took you under his wing. He showed you everything you knew. Then you learned your own tricks. Making food exciting and fun. You love it and so you took pride in now working for yourself and co-owning a place like this with Jericho. 
“You hungry?” You hum out to your boyfriend. Going to your walk-in fridge that barely had anything in it yet. “If you’re cooking.” Claggor responds, not looking over to you. “Well, it’s definitely not going to be you who’s cooking. You’ve burnt bread before.” You tease him as you pull out multiple ingredients. “Plus I want to make a few things off of the new menu, get your opinion.” You tell him. 
“First off, rude. You distracted me. Second, I’d love to share my opinion.” He points a finger at you, looking back to the cords that stuck out. He was trying to figure out how to place them back in the wall or tape them up so it wasn’t such a fire-hazard. “You’re obsessed with me, not my fault. And I knew you would. I love cooking for you.” You sing as you prep out the food along with the oven and stove. 
“You’re my girlfriend, of course I’m obsessed with you.” He rolls his eyes, muttering a small yes under his breath when he finally deciphers how to place the stupid bunch of wires. 
“Mm, if you say so.” You chuckle, beginning to chop up the vegetables on a small cutting board. “I’m missing a few things so if these don’t turn out good it’s not my fault.” You notified him, you were slightly disappointed because you wanted him to truly know the things that are going on the menu.
 “It’s okay, hun. I’ll probably still like it.” He stands up, walking up behind you, admiring you in your element. He loved watching you cook or bake. The focused expression that adorned your face, how natural it all looked on you. It made him happy that you had something so dear to you that’s also your career. 
“I feel your eyes burning me.” You comment, peering at him through your peripheral vision. He grins. “Sorry.” He snakes his hands onto your hips. Kissing the back of your head. You leaned back into him while still cutting up the food. The two of you didn’t hear the front door open, a large man entering and checking everything out. He sits on the counter stool, smacking the counter. “Ahem, I’d like to order!” His voice booms, startling the both of you. 
“Jericho!” The two of you announce and you laugh. “Too bad, old man. We ain’t open yet.” You “inform” him and he snickers. “No exception for the elderly?” 
“We hate the elderly.” You joke and he gasps, clutching his chest. “Wow. What a ruthless one you are. I’m starting to question my decision.” He says, causing the three of you to laugh. “I’m actually making some food off the new menu if you want to try it when I’m done?” You offer, showing off the cutting board behind you. 
He waves his hand. “No need, I just wanted to check in. Seems like everything is on track for opening day.” He sits proudly, and you nod your head. “Alrighty, it was nice seeing you!” You come out from the counter and pull him into an embrace. “You as well, little one.” He gruffs. “Can’t believe how grown you two are.” He breathes out, feeling sentimental at the sight of the two of you. He had been feeding Vander’s kids for years and you, he hired you at the young age of 13 since he was friends with your mother. You wanted a job to help out at home and he figured it couldn’t hurt to put you to work. Your mom hesitantly agreed to it and ever since the two of you have been as thick as thieves. 
It then led you to meet Claggor. The love of your life. He got to watch your whole love story unfold. 
“Crazy, I remember when [Named] gushed and fawned over you at 16 and now the two of you are practically married.” He dramatically says, purposely messing with you. You hit his arm with knitted eyebrows. “It was lovely seeing you, Jer. Don’t you think it’s time to go now?” You look down at you watch that graced your wrist and he cackles, hitting your back with such force. 
“Alright, alright. See the two of you later.” He smiles, looking over to Claggor who waves goodbye. “Nice seeing you, Jericho.” 
“You as well.” He huffs as he’s getting shoved out by you. “Get out of here.” You spat, slamming the door behind him, locking it as well. You huff, crossing your arms. Claggor smirks at you from behind the counter. Raising a brow your way to which you flip him off. “Don’t even.” You warn him, heading back over to the food. 
He puts his hands up in defense. “Wasn’t even going to say anything.” He denies it and you scoff. Not believing him. “I mean, you gushed over me at 16… who would want to talk about that.” He jokes and you let out a loud groan. “Shut up or you’re not eating my food!” You threaten. 
“Anything but that, your food is like a piece of heaven I don’t think I could live without.” He clasps his hands together, pretending to plead with your empty threat. You press your lips together trying not to smile. 
Claggor sits at one of the booths you had cleaned off for the both of you. He gently taps on the table as he waits for you like he was told to. You wanted to serve him the food the correct way. On a tray and everything as you come out. “I took a small bite, definitely not how it’s supposed to be but I think you’ll still enjoy it.” You tell him as you place the plates on the table. He gawks at how delicious everything looks. 
“Sure.” He tucks a napkin on the collar of his shirt. His mouth watering just by the sight of your food. You were always anxious about the things you cook or bake. Never having the right ingredients because honestly you couldn’t afford them. Nevertheless it always turns out amazing so Claggor never understood your fear. 
You plop on the booth across from him. Your gaze observing him as he takes his first bite. You gnaw on your bottom lip, nervous. He lets out a loud moan, adding emphasis on it. Sort of exaggerating his reaction but not really. 
“[Name], you’ve done it again. You literally can’t leave me.” He grabs your hand, looking sincerely in your eyes and your face heats up. “I don’t plan on leaving you but good to know I can’t specifically because of my cooking skills.” You playfully roll your eyes, digging into the food as well. 
“You know that’s not the only reason… just the main one.” He takes another bite while squeezing your hand. “You’re stupid, Claggor.” You take your hand to your side as he makes kissy lips your way. 
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auggieblogs · 1 year ago
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Milk & Honey | Lando Norris Instagram au
Lando Norris x fem! reader
* ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which Lando's girlfriend happens to be a baker (own a bakery too) and love snoopy?
author's note: Hiiii everyone. This is me trying my hand at smaus, and honestly? I had so much fun writing this sjshjs. Hopefully I'll be doing more of it in the future. Let me know what you all will like to see next, my requests are open. Thank you so much for reading<3
―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 154,133 others
yourusername I love my job😼(owning a bakery and annoying Lando)
tagged landonorris
comments:
username sjgshsjsjd you are ADORABLE.
username you get paid for annoying Lando?
yourusername nope, I do that for free😊
username the first pic??? and what if i cried???
f1 best baker in town!!!
*liked by landonorris and yourusername*
username she's silly, ur honour🥰
username those double choco cookies be good
username SHE'S SO PRETTY. LANDO BRO, I HOPE YOU CAN FIGHT
landonorris you can never annoy me
yourusername are you saying I'm bad at my job? (I love you☹️)
landonorris I love you more, bub❤️
username hey god, it's me. AGAIN.
lando.jpg
Location📍: M&H (milk and honey)
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liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo, and 356,234 others
lando.jpg cookies and snoopy.
tagged yourusername
comments:
username I love studying at y/n’s bakery, it’s so cozy🥹
username plus she serves the best pastries and matcha yumm
username also the best selection of books!!!
username and the best music too.
danielricciardo why would you ever allow Lando in the kitchen???
yourusername he’s not THAT bad, c’mon😭
oscarpiastri yes, he is.
alex_albon yes, he is.
carlossainz55 yes, he is.
team_quadrant yes, he is.
mclaren yes, he is.
lando.jpg damn. not my own team turning their backs on me😞
yourusername did they lie though?
lando.jpg babe not you too!!! my heart’s already breaking
yourusername BABY GO ON TWIST THE KNIFE
lando.jpg HEY HEY HEY. OH WHY YOU’RE WEARING THAT TO WALK OUT OF MY LIFE
username oh bless this comment section. I love it here🙏🏼
username y/n and lando #directioner confirmed.
username awh look at them baking together. time to check if my head is bulletproof or not haha
username parting my hair with a chainsaw
yourusername babe???😭😭😭
username omg y/n!!!!
username they are so Liz and Wes coded
*liked by yourusername*
yourusername I love snoopy:))
charles_leclerc we’ve seen the 25379 snoopy stuffies.
yourusername that is an exaggeration!!!
maxverstappen1 lying to our faces
yourusername oh shush, at least I am not obsessed with countries and flags AND LANDMARKS?
yourbestfriend she’s lying again
yourusername piss off??????
landonorris you are literally playing GeoGuessr right now
maxverstappen LET'S PLAY TOGETHER PLEASE PLEASE @ yourusername
username y/n being a Snoopy fan is the most y/n thing ever, im afraid
username she is such a nerd, how do I not love her😟
landonorris posted on their story:
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v6quewrlds · 5 months ago
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❝ fuksumn, t. higgins. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  
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‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: competition keeps things interesting in your relationship. but when tee looks that good all the time, maybe losing isn't such a bad thing.
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: WHERE ARE THE TEE FICS YALL, did i spend 45 mins looking for a tee pic for the header? yes. why? mind your business, i do in fact have another tee fic i'm working on bc someone gotta write for him and i guess it will be me 🙂‍↕️ day two of my no nut november series.
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, established relationship, intentional use of aave in dialogue, "just the tip" trope, pretty tame otherwise.
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: tee higgins x reader.
‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 2.9k.
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"You know you not finna win that challenge," Tee teased, pausing his game to glance over at you. His fingers paused over the controller, a smug smirk playing on his lips.
You rolled your eyes, not looking up from the laptop in your lap. "Oh, really?" You replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "And what makes you so sure?"
Tee leaned in closer, his tall frame stretching over the couch's arm. "C'mon, babe," he said, his voice low and playful. "Look at us right now. You stressed out with that paper, and I'm just chillin' here. Ain't nobody hornier than you when you stressed."
You couldn't help but laugh. "Is that your strategy?" You looked at him, your eyes sparkling. "To make me so stressed that I can't help but beg for it?"
Tee shrugged, his grin widening. "It's just science, baby. Stress turns into other things, if you know what I mean."
You playfully pushed his face away in an attempt to hide the racing of your heart. You couldn't deny that the tension between you two was growing thicker by the minute.
"Alright, Mr. Science," you said, closing your laptop with a dramatic sigh. "Let's say I'm the one to crack first, what do you want from me?"
Tee's eyes lit up with mischief. "Oh, I'm thinking something sweet," he said, setting his controller aside. "Maybe I'll get you to bake me that apple pie you been promising me for weeks."
You rolled your eyes again, but this time with a playful smile. "A whole pie just because I can't keep my hands off you?" You scoffed. "Try again, Tee."
Tee sat up, his movements deliberate and slow, his eyes never leaving yours. "Or maybe," he began, leaning in closer, "I could get you to wear that tiny ass dress I like so much."
You felt a shiver run down your spine, your cheeks flushing as you thought of the dress in question. It was a dark green dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, one that had driven Tee wild the last time you wore it. "What dress?" you said, playing coy. "The one that barely covers my ass?"
Tee nodded, his gaze lingering on your lips. "You know the one," he said, his voice a low rumble. "The one that makes me want to tear that ass up every time I see it on you. If I win, you gotta wear it without anything extra."
Your heart skipped a beat. The challenge was on, and you were already plotting your revenge. You leaned back into the couch cushions, crossing your arms over your chest. "Fine," you said, raising an eyebrow. "But if I win, you gotta clean the whole house. Spotless."
Tee laughed, the sound rich and warm. "You think that's gon’ be enough to make me crack?" He leaned closer, your bodies touching. "I'm telling you, I got more self-control than anyone you know."
Your eyes narrowed playfully. "Is that right?" you said, your voice a sultry whisper. "Let's see what you made of."
The days ticked by, and the flirty banter grew more intense. Every time you walked by Tee, you would brush your hand against his thigh, feeling the heat of his skin through his sweatpants. Tee would return the favor, placing a kiss to the edge of your jawline as he passed, making your skin tingle with anticipation. You both would catch each other's glances across the room, your eyes holding for a beat too long, before one of you would look away, trying not to crack first.
One evening, as you sat at the kitchen counter with your laptop, Tee came up behind you, his hands resting on the counter to close you in. He kissed your neck gently, his breath hot against your skin. You swallowed hard, your fingers trembling as you typed. "You're playing dirty," you murmured, trying to keep your voice steady.
"Just a little taste, baby," Tee said, his teeth grazing your ear. "C'mon, don’t tell me you ‘ont want it."
Your resolve wavered. You could feel his solid form pressing against you, and it was getting increasingly harder to resist. You knew he was enjoying every second of this game, watching you squirm. "Tee, I'm tryna focus," you said, your voice betraying the desire coursing through your veins.
"Mm-hmm," Tee murmured, his kisses moving down your neck, sending a shiver through you. "But you know you want it." His voice was a soft caress, his breath a whisper.
Your grip tightened on your laptop, the heat from his body enveloping you. "I'm not gonna be the one to break," you insisted, your voice wavering. You could feel the warmth of his crotch against your backside, the evidence of his desire unmistakable.
"You sure about that?" Tee challenged, his hands sliding around to cup your breasts. He gently squeezed, his thumbs swirling over the soft nipples hidden underneath your shirt. You bit your lower lip to stifle a moan, your eyes squeezing shut. The sensation was almost too much to handle, your body begging for more.
"Tee..." you warned, your voice thick with need. You could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, your resolve slipping away like sand through your fingers. He knew exactly where to touch, and how to make your body sing.
Tee chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Come on, baby," he coaxed, his voice a sweet symphony of temptation. "Just a little bit. Let me fuck you right." He leaned in closer, his warm breath fanning across your face.
"Just the tip." You finally broke, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just to cool the tension."
Tee's smirk grew wider as he pulled back, his eyes gleaming with victory. "Is that right?" He stepped closer, his jeans tenting with his own need. "You want me to give you just a lil’ taste?"
You nodded, your eyes half-lidded with desire. "Just the tip," you repeated, your voice strained. "That's all."
Tee's hand trailed down your stomach, his fingers deftly unbuttoning your jeans. He slid them down just enough to expose the top of your panties. His own breathing grew heavier as he leaned in, his mouth so close to yours. "Just the tip, then," he whispered, his hot breath fanning your face.
With a swift motion, he pushed aside the material of your underwear and found your wetness with his fingertips. You gasped, your eyes snapping open to meet his. "This pussy's always so wet for me," he murmured with a hint of surprise in his voice. He slipped one finger inside, just a little, watching your reaction closely.
"No fair," you panted, your eyes fluttering shut again as Tee's finger slid in and out of you, teasing you with every stroke. You could feel the tension in your body coiling tighter with every passing second.
"Couch." You almost demanded, your voice trembling with the effort of holding back. Tee chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through your body as he stepped back, allowing you to get up. Your legs felt wobbly, but you managed to make your way over to the couch.
As you lay down, your heart racing, Tee followed, his movements more predatory than ever. He hovered above you, his eyes dark with desire, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement. He slid off your jeans completely, leaving you in just your panties and shirt.
Your breath hitched as Tee slid in, just the tip as promised. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through your core. You bit your lip to keep from moaning too loudly, your eyes locked onto him as he began to move. The friction was maddening, so close to what you really wanted but not quite enough to satisfy.
"Tee," you whimpered, your body arching up to meet his.
He smirked down at you, his eyes filled with a mix of challenge and lust. "You sure about this?" He whispered, his voice thick with his own desire.
You hesitated, your eyes searching Tee's. The tension in the room was suffocating, the air heavy with need. You could feel your resolve slipping, the desire to give in to the challenge overwhelming. "A little more," you breathed, your voice barely audible.
Tee's smirk grew as he pushed in a little further, his movements deliberate and slow. Your eyes rolled back in your head, a soft moan escaping your lips. The feeling was a delicious temptation, but it was also torture, a sweet agony that made you want to scream. "That's it, baby," Tee murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. "Take it."
Your nails dug into the couch cushions as Tee began to move faster, his hips rolling in a rhythm that was just shy of satisfying. You could feel your orgasm building, the pressure growing with every stroke. "Come on, baby," he coaxed, his voice a seductive purr. "You know you want more."
Your eyes remained locked as he slid in deeper, his thickness filling you just enough to make your toes curl. Your breath came in shallow gasps, your body begging for release. "Fuck," you groaned, your resolve crumbling. "Okay, okay... more."
With a grin of victory, Tee leaned down, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss as he pushed all the way in, your moan muffled by his lips. You moved together, your bodies in perfect harmony, the challenge forgotten in the heat of the moment.
Your hands roamed underneath his shirt and up his back, your nails digging into his skin, urging him to go deeper, faster. Tee complied, his strokes becoming more intense, each one pushing you closer to the edge. Your kiss grew more frantic, your breaths mingling as your tongues danced together.
The room was filled with the sound of your muffled moans and the rhythmic slap of skin on skin. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in tight, your body writhing beneath him as he claimed you. You were both lost in the moment, the challenge nothing but a distant memory.
Tee's hand slipped under your shirt, his thumb brushing against your nipple, sending a shiver of pleasure through your body. You arched up, pushing your chest into his hand, your breath coming in ragged pants. He broke the kiss, his mouth moving to your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.
"Tee," you moaned, your hands tangling in his hair as he worked his magic. His teeth grazed your earlobe, sending an electric shock to your core. "I'm gonna come, baby," you panted, your voice trembling.
"Not yet," he murmured, his voice thick with his own desire. He pulled out almost entirely, leaving just the tip of his dick teasing you.
Your eyes flew open, your pupils dilated with passion. "Tee, you can't do this to me," you pleaded, your voice a desperate whine.
He chuckled against your neck, the vibrations sending another tremor through you. "But I can," he said, his voice filled with smug satisfaction. "And I will."
With every ounce of willpower you had, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, one of your hands curling around the right side of his jaw. "Please, baby," you begged, your voice a breathy whisper. "I can't take it. You win."
Tee's eyes gleamed with mischief as he leaned in closer, his voice a low purr. "Are you giving in so soon?" He began to pull out completely, the tip of his dick slipping from your warmth.
Your eyes snapped open, your body taut with need. "Yes, Tee," you huffed, your pride wounded. "I'll wear that damn dress for you, just..."
You gasped as he slammed back into you, his dick filling you up completely. "Just don't stop," you whimpered, your voice a desperate plea as you fell back onto the couch.
Tee chuckled, the sound sending waves of pleasure through you. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a rough kiss as he began to move again, his strokes deep and deliberate. Your legs tightened around him, your hips rising to meet every thrust. The pressure in your core grew, the anticipation of release building like a crescendo.
Tee's hand found yours, your fingers lacing together as he picked up the pace. "You so beautiful when you get like this," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. The love in his gaze only added to the intensity of the moment. "All mine," he whispered, his voice a declaration.
You felt a wave of emotion wash over you, the love and desire in Tee's words fueling your own passion. "Yes, baby," you whispered back, your eyes filled with longing. "Always. All yours."
"Fuck, baby," you groaned, your nails digging into his back as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. His rhythm was unrelenting, each stroke sending jolts of pleasure through your body. Your eyes squeezed shut, your breath coming in short gasps as you tried to hold on, not wanting the feeling to end.
"Oh, you're so tight," Tee whispered in your ear, his breath hot and ragged. He could feel you tightening around him, your body begging for release. "You gon’ come for me, baby." His words were a promise, a demand, and a question all rolled into one.
"Gonna come all over this couch, baby girl," Tee murmured, his voice a dark promise that sent a fresh wave of heat through you. "Make a mess just for me." He swiveled his hips, hitting that spot deep inside you that had you panting and whimpering his name.
You could feel the orgasm building, a pressure that was almost painful in its intensity. "Tee, I can't," you gasped, your head shaking from side to side as another moan ripped through you. "Baby, it's too much."
"Nah, baby girl," Tee whispered, his eyes locked with yours. "You gotta take this dick, baby. Take it like the big girl I know you are." He leaned in closer, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "You wanted this dick so bad, now you gotta take it all."
Your bodies moved in perfect sync, the sound of your skin slapping together filling the room. Your breath hitched, your eyes rolling back as Tee's strokes grew more demanding. You could feel the orgasm approaching, no sense in stopping now. "Tee," you moaned out, your voice a desperate plea.
"Come for me, baby," he murmured, his own breathing growing more ragged. "Let it go." And with those words, you shattered, your body convulsing around Tee as you came, your moan echoing through the room. Tee groaned, the sight of your pleasure pushing him over the edge. He thrust into you one final time, his warmth flooding you as he reached his climax.
You both lay there, panting and tangled in each other's arms, the challenge a distant memory. Tee's chuckles rumbled against your skin as you swatted at him playfully. "You're so fucking evil," you accused, your voice filled with love and laughter.
"You love it," Tee countered, kissing your neck. "'Just the tip, Tee. Just a little more, Tee.'" He mimicked your earlier pleas, his voice teasing and full of laughter.
You couldn't help but laugh, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Shut up," you said, your voice muffled against his shoulder. "You just lucky you good at this."
Tee leaned back, grinning down at you. "Good?" He repeated. "Baby, I'm the fucking best, and you know it."
You couldn't argue with that. "Fine," you said, your voice a mix of defeat and satisfaction. "You win. But you still cleaning the house."
"You the one that lost, remember?" Tee chuckled, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He pulled out of you, a smug smile playing on his lips as he watched you struggle to sit up, your legs still weak.
You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face was genuine. "Whatever, you agreed to it," you said, though the protest lacked any real bite.
Tee leaned back, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He looked down at you, sprawled out on the couch, your lips swollen and your chest heaving. He couldn't resist the urge to lean down and kiss you again, his lips finding yours in a lazy, lingering press. "Mm, you taste so good," he murmured against your mouth.
Your eyes fluttered open, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "So do you," you whispered, your eyes searching his. The love in his gaze made your heart flutter.
Your fingers traced lazy patterns on Tee's back as you thought about the challenge. "You know," you began, your voice a lazy drawl, "I might have to make sure we never do that again."
Tee chuckled, his chest rumbling against yours. "Why's that?" He nibbled on your earlobe, making you squirm.
"Because you're too good at this," you said with a playful pout. "I'm never going to win anything against you."
Tee laughed, his deep chuckles sending a warm vibration through her. "Don't worry, baby," he said, his hand moving to cup your cheek. "I'll let you win at something."
You squinted your eyes as Tee fought back a laugh. "Nah, never mind," he gave in, retracting his hand and tickling your side. You squealed and giggled, trying to get away, but his grip was too firm, his touch too playful.
"Tee, stop!" you giggled, squirming under him. But your protests were weak, and your laughter only encouraged him more.
"Okay, okay," he said, his chuckles subsiding. "But you gotta admit, that was worth it." He leaned in, his mouth capturing yours in a sweet, tender kiss that made your heart swell.
Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you pulled away. "Maybe," you conceded, your voice light and playful. "But next time, I'm definitely winning."
"We'll see about that," Tee said, his eyes twinkling with a competitive glint.
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augustvandyne · 1 year ago
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Hey! could you please right a natasha x wife r? Idk if you remember when the avengers have to take refuge and they have to go to clints house (he's reluctant bc he has a secret family only nat knows about)? well could you write it so it's actually nats family that no one knows about? and she's super reluctant to take them there
everyone's alive and no one knew she had a family (not even clint) and the timeline is SUPER wack bc plot twist, yelenas already there. the avengers are hurt nat didn't tell them and they're kinda mad too
nats wife doesn't like having them there bc it's her home and they're putting them all in more danger then they normally are in. the kids don't like them either bc they 'take their mom away' or something like that (but the kids adooore their aunt yelena)
this is super long I'm sorry but the idea has been plaguing my head and I feel like it would be fun to read about. thank you and have a great day!
hi! yes! don’t worry about it being too long, i’ll listen to and write whatever thoughts you have.
safehouse
You and Yelena were baking a cake when pack of Avengers came piling through the front door.
You were expecting Natasha later in the week, and alone. Not with the danger that is literally standing in your doorway.
That was the best part of this place, there was no danger. Nat left work at work, and when she came home all she focused on was her family—you, Yelena, and your two lovely children.
So you were definitely surprised, and not happy, to see the other five Avengers.
You walk further into the living room, and when Nat sees you, her face is immediately apologetic.
“Babe—“
“Who are all these people?” Yelena comes and stands beside you in the living room, staring up at all the men.
“This is Steve, Clint, Tony, Thor, and Bruce. They’re my friends,” Natasha shrugs.
“Uh, no, we’re not your friends now,” Clint crosses his arms with sass.
“They’re the Avengers,” You correct your wife. “And they shouldn’t be here.”
“Listen, I wasn’t going to even bring them here, but—“
“It’s our fault, ma’am,” Steve interrupted.
“Oh, here we go,” Tony throws his hands in the air.
“What?” Steve whines.
“First the language, and now the manners. Good god,” Tony rolls his eyes.
“Okay, take it elsewhere. More preferably, back to where you came from,” You fake smile, earning a glare from Nat.
“Where are the kids?” Nat asks, and you get the feeling she needs to talk. Alone.
“Upstairs in the playroom. Yelena, why don’t you take them outside to play on the swing set?” You ask sweetly.
“Ah, gotcha,” Yelena gave a look to Natasha that said, good luck.
The kids say hello to Nat, made faces at the men still in your living room, and then squealed with joy out the door because their mama is home.
You looked away from the door and back up at the Avengers once again. Nat softly grabs you by the arm and pulls your towards the other side of the living room.
“What are they doing here, Nat?” You lean closer, your foreheads slightly touching.
“I had no other choice,” Natasha’s raspy voice makes it hard not to forgive her.
You sigh and purse your lips.
“Really,” Nat insists. “If there was any other choice, I would have made it. We just got into a little trouble, and need to camp out for a few days.”
You made a vow not to ask what trouble she was in, so you kept your mouth shut when she says this.
“Okay. But if there’s even a little bit of damage to the house, they are paying for it,” You lift your head up and walk back towards the group, Natasha following close behind.
Nat glances your way, then back at the boys, “We can stay here. But only for a few days.”
“So this is where Lady Natasha goes every time she takes off,” Thor nods.
“Yes. A home we didn’t even know about?” Bruce shakes his head.
“I can’t believe you never told me,” Clint looks genuinely hurt when Nat looks at him. “I thought we were friends.”
“Yeah, what he said,” Tony puts his hand on his chest.
You roll your eyes and head back to the kitchen before the cake burns, letting your wife deal with her friends/fellow Avengers.
You finish the frosting Yelena had started, and ice the cake once it comes out of the oven. You then start on dinner. Something easy everyone can enjoy—pasta.
Dinner goes about as well as you thought it would.
Nat and the kids catch up. She just saw them a week or so ago, so there isn’t much to catch up, but you love watching Natasha play and talk with the kids.
You try not to laugh as the kids keep making faces at the guys.
Your daughter starts to kick Tony in the shin, to which him and your daughter start having a staring contest.
“Okay, what are you guys doing?” Nat asked.
“Your tiny agent keeps kicking me,” Tony says, never taking his eyes off the smaller girl.
“Okay she’s not an agent, and it’s probably because you take her mother away every chance you get,” You sighed with frustration. “Good she’s kicking you, maybe you’ll leave then.”
“Y/n—“
“I’m sorry,” You look at your wife. “I said it was okay, even though you’re putting us it more danger. But, I will try to be civil, but only for Natasha.”
“Thank you.”
Later in the night you had assigned everyone to places in the house to spend the night.
Yelena had volunteered to spend the night with the kids, so at least two people could bunk in there, and it was fine by you because the kids adored Yelena.
So two people slept in Yelena’s room, you had one in the living room, and two in the guest room downstairs.
“They are mad at me, you know?” Nat brushed through her hair.
“They’ll get over it. It’s a safe house,” You wrap your arms around her waist from behind. “You are supposed to keep it secret.”
“I know,” Nat turns so you two are face to face. “I love you, and thank you for letting us stay here. We’ll be out of her in two days, tops.”
“Good,” You plant a kiss on the side of Natasha’s mouth.
“But I might not be back for a while,” Nat cups your cheek in her hand.
“I had a feeling,” You look down.
“I’ll just have to make it up to you.”
“How about you start now?” You lift a brow and squeal as your wife picks you up and puts you on the bed.
Danger aside, you loved having your wife back in your arms, and you were granted with just that from this crazy mission.
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bittersweet-folder · 10 months ago
Note
hiii, could you do the light forehead kisses with minghao or vernon? like really domestic and soft 🥺
Yess ofc love🌷[I'm so sorry for such a late response btw. Please read a/n in the end. Thank you♡]
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🍪 Cookies and cream
Pairing: Vernon× gn reader[they are in an established relationship].
Genre: fluff, very domestic scenario, baking with Vernon basically.
Warnings: none. Word count:739
Note: you call Vernon by his first name Hansol. Also idk why I kept that title but okay 💀 .
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"Nooo, you're supposed to coat them in flour, Hansol" you exclaimed as you saw him directly adding the blue berries in the cake batter.
"Uhh okay okay but why?" Vernon asked, nonchalantly.
"It's because of the batter. When you coat the blueberries with flour they automatically don't sink to the bottom of the baking pan." You explained while looking at him and continued "and when you add them to the batter and mix them lightly okay?"
"Yes ma'am!" he smiled. He bought extra flour in a bowl and coated the blueberries in flour. He looks very concentrated for someone who's assisting you to bake for the first time.
There wasn't really a special occasion to make Hansol some cookies and cake. In fact he loved any desserts made by you. But this time you were also going to send a batch of cookies to his family. So you asked for his help. Looking at how concentrated he is, with what you've instructed him to do made you happy. You took a glance at the clock. It was almost the time for the cookies to be done so you slid the cooking glove on to your hand and took them out of the oven. The delicious smell of chocolate and a sugary essence filled the kitchen. You set the pan on the table for the cookies to cool down. Hansol automatically left what he was doing and waddled back to you and hugged you from the back, settling his chin on your shoulder.
"Can I take some break please babe?" he murmured. His focus was still on the cookies.
"Hansol, honey I know your tricks. Just say that you want some cookies right now" you said nonchalantly as you pressed in the center of the cookies lightly. Nice and fully baked. You picked up the big ones.
"Wow, am I that obvious?" he questioned, his lips now pressed in a thin line,blinking at you as if in disbelief. You placed the big cookies on a plate.
"Yes and here's your cookies, the big ones because I knew you'd want some" you handed him the plate with a smile on your lips.
"Thank you babe" he said as he flashed his toothy smile at you.
"Mention not honey" you said.
Then you started searching for the jar in which you were supposed to store the cookies in.
"Hold on, where's the jar" you thought while going through the lower cupboards. After a little bit of searching you found it in the upper shelves. "This must be his doings" you thought as you sighed outta annoyance but then you saw two hands on either side trapping you to the kitchen counter. You turned around, the jar still in your hands and looked at Hansol. Your eyes meet his.
"I've put the blueberry batter in a different baking tray and put it in the oven, darling. The choco chip cookies were delicious" he said and smiled softly. You couldn't help but feel the blood rushing to your cheeks because of the pet name he just called you.
"Okay then what about my kisses?" you mumbled with a pout, your eyes looking down at the jar, breaking eye contact. It was silly how you wanted some kisses in the middle of all this mess in the kitchen but at the same time it still made sense why. He cradles your face with his hands, making you look at him. He can now take a good look at your blushy face. He slowly leaned in and placed his soft lips on your lips. A soft and warm kiss with a slight lingering essence of cookies on his lips. After breaking off from the kiss he pressed soft kisses on your forehead. It made your heart swell with a mushy feeling. He did take another look at your flushed face before removing his hands from your cheeks.
"Vernon quit staring like that" you whined and continued "and move aside babe, gonna store the cookies in this jar" you walked past him.
He followed you for a few steps and then said "by the way love it would be great if I can get another-" before he could finish the sentence you cut in stating "noo you're not getting any more cookies Vernon" you chuckled knowing the fact that you will end up giving him one more cookie while storing the cookies in jar.
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A/n: yes I love baking so I was like why not write about this, baking with Vernon so yeah. I did proofread once lemme know if there's any mistake though.
I was very much emotionally exhausted about some things going on rn so that's why requests are closed. ALSO THANK YOU FOR 500+ FOLLOWERS 😭😭.
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shyneanon · 4 months ago
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And here the UF Sans version of the thing I just wrote like two hours ago LOL. I was finally struck with inspiration after a looooong time. I love writing one-shots.
Anyways. Here’s UF Sans helping Reader get out of a bad situation by… Well, by being himself.
OK, that car was definitely following you.
At first, you had tried to tell yourself that you were being paranoid. You could be paranoid a lot of the time. But it had been a while and the car was still going at an unusually slow pace.
You’d known it would be a bad idea to go walking so close to sundown. It was dark now, and there was no one along the sidewalk anymore. But no, you hadn’t wanted to miss your exercise. Idiot. And you couldn’t even go to your car, because your car was in the shop. You had taken a rideshare here.
There was a small restaurant just up ahead, though. A local burger place.
Knowing this was probably a bad idea, you began booking it down the sidewalk. The car, of course, sped up, but to your surprise it didn’t speed up next to you so that someone could grab you and yank you inside. You thought just being close to the restaurant would be your saving grace, but when you started to run through the lot, you realized that it was almost entirely empty. There were only five or so cars. And no one outside.
Please tell me they’re not closed.
You ran up to the front door and grabbed the handle, but when you pulled, it was locked. Only then did you see the big sign in the door that said they’d had to close early today. There was a leak or something. You peeked through the windows, but saw no one. You ran to the side of the building and saw another door, but it was for employees only, and there was no window outside. You decided to try it to make sure, but it was also locked.
Oh my God, I’m going to die. Or worse.
You heard the sound of the front door opening and started. You turned the corner, half expecting to bump into the driver of the car, but the stranger stepping outside didn’t even seem to notice you were there. And ohhhh my gosh.
Yes, they were a monster, but that wasn’t the part that made you hesitate to approach them, even as the vehicle you were running from pulled up in front of the restaurant. The part that made you hesitate was… well, everything else.
The skeleton making his way out of the building was of a shorter stature, sure. But he did not look particularly friendly. Like a lot of other monsters, he was dressed entirely in red and black, and he had extremely sharp teeth, which at the moment were preoccupied biting down on some fries he had carried out of the store with him. From the way the light of the street lamps glinted off one of those teeth, you could tell it was probably made of gold. His large eye sockets had little pinpricks of red light in them. This guy had clearly been in no shortage of trouble. Maybe approaching him for help would just get you into an even more dangerous situation?
Screw it, I’m gonna die either way, right?
You ran for the skeleton and, without thinking, grabbed the hood of his jacket. He seemed surprised, and then turned to look at you with a scowl.
“The fuck’re you—“
“Hi sweetie,” you said in a happy tone, which startled him into silence. “I didn’t know you were here.”
He looked baffled.
In a whisper, you explained your half-baked plan: “There’s a car following me. Please, please pretend to be my boyfriend.” You figured boyfriend might freak out the driver more than a friend.
He glanced at the car, then nodded.
Thank you.
He then surprised you by wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. Your face grew warm.
“Sorry babe,” he said, giving you a lazy smile. “Shoulda invited you.”
Now that you’d heard him say a full sentence, you realized he had a Brooklyn accent. “No, it’s OK. I don’t have to be around for everything you do.”
“Yeah?”
He wrapped his other arm around you and pulled you up against him. Shorter stature didn’t mean he was shorter than you— he was about your height. Hey.
“Well.”
He winked.
“I missed you,” he said quietly.
Uhhh. A part of you was thinking you’d made a huge mistake.
The other part of you was thinking you’d made the best decision of your life.
“Let’s get in my car, yeah?” Another wink. The winks were surprisingly charming. “We can drive somewhere nice and lonely.”
One of his hands moved to the small of your back.
“Get tah know each other better,” he said in a low voice.
OK, now you were trying to figure out if this was part of the act or if he was actually proposing the two of you have sex. Like an idiot, all you said was, “Uh.”
“That a yes?”
Nevermind, you now knew the question was serious. Trying to keep up the act, you said, “H… honey, you know I have work tomorrow.”
“Alright, babe.”
Phew.
“Where’s your car? I c’n walk you there.”
Oh.
“Um,” you said quietly, “I didn’t come here in a car.”
One of his eyebrows quirked up and he grinned wider. Those teeth really looked sharp.
“Oh?” he said.
You realized your face was on fire. “I… I can just call a rideshare.”
“But I’m your boyfriend,” he teased, waggling his eyebrows. You tried to glare at him, but the grin had become less predatory and more playful, and his tone of voice was kind of silly.
It was kind of cute.
You peered over his shoulder and saw that the car that had followed you was no longer there.
“The car’s gone,” you informed him.
“Yeah, I know. It’s been gone.”
What? Your face got hot and you glared. “Then why are you still holding me?”
“Cuz you’re cute.”
Your face got hotter, much to your chagrin. He tilted his head.
“What’s yer name, beautiful?”
One of his fingers trailed along your back as he asked. You wanted to pull away… kind of. You could feel yourself getting comfortable in your current position.
“What makes you think I’ll tell you?” you asked.
Another silly grin. “What, you’re not gonna tell yer boyfriend yer name?”
“Ahaha,” you said, trying to sound as sarcastic as possible. “Hilarious.”
A low chuckle. The baritone of his voice was… yeah, it was kind of attractive.
Trying to sound as reluctant as possible, you told him your name.
“Yeah?” he said. “Cute name.”
Your face got hot again. Ugh.
“Name’s Sans.”
You raised your eyebrows at him. “Who said I cared?”
His grin became devious again. “Yer face,” he said. “It’s real red, baby.
That just made it worse. “Well, maybe if you’d quit flirting with me it wouldn’t be.”
“Do you want me to quit?”
You glared, but you were less mad at him than you were at yourself. Because unfortunately… no, you did not want him to quit.
“C’mon baby,” he said. “Lemme take you home.”
“You mean my home, right?”
“Yeah.” A wink. “Unless you wanna stay at my place for the night. I’d like that.”
You were pretty sure this was all behavior that warranted a big slap across his cheek, but for some reason you found yourself really enjoying it. Seriously? This idiot?
“You can drive me home,” you said quietly.
“You sure?”
… Aw. That was actually kind of sweet. “Yeah.”
“Kay. Just making sure.”
What have I gotten myself into? was all you could think as he led you to his car. Now that he had let go of you, you realized he was still holding the box of French fries.
“You held onto those this whole time?” you said.
“What, you think I was gonna waste good fries? That’d just be stupid.”
He held one out to you.
“Want one?”
You just looked at him.
Then you snickered and took it.
At least as stupid as he was, he didn’t speed while driving or anything. In fact, your conversation wasn’t bad at all. He told you a little bit about himself, you told him a little bit about yourself. He made bad jokes. Apparently he was a fan of those. Despite his demeanor earlier, you realized throughout your interaction that he was really just a huge goofball.
It was a nice surprise.
When you got home (you really hoped letting him drive you home wasn’t a mistake), he grinned at you.
“Watch this,” he said.
And he disappeared from the driver’s seat. Just disappeared. You blinked, confused. There was a knocking on the window behind you, and you turned only to jump and let out a small yelp when you saw him standing right outside. He laughed a little as he opened the door.
“How the hell did you do that?” you asked.
“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he said with another wink. “B’sides, that wasn’t the weird part. The weird part is me being a gentleman an’ holdin’ the door open.”
You smiled as you got out. “You’re a dork.”
“Rude. I’m a bad boy.”
“Psh. You wish.”
He closed the door.
“Hey baby, ‘fore you go… can I kiss ya?”
No.
“OK,” was what came out of your mouth. It was accompanied by a small smile and everything.
You idiot.
His eyelights got really big in what was, quite frankly, an absolutely adorable expression. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“Wow, lucky me.”
“Did you think I was gonna say no?”
A shrug. “Pretty much.”
Huh? “Then why did you ask?”
“Cuz I’m stupid,” he said proudly.
“You are stupid.”
“Guess you like stupid, then.”
Oh. He was probably right. Aw, man. You rolled your eyes.
“Now.”
Sans surprised you by getting ahold of your hips. His eyes had lidded.
“‘Bout that kiss.”
OK. It’s just a kiss. One, small kiss. That’s all he gets.
To your surprise, that was what he gave you. Sort of. His teeth pressed against your lips and you kissed back. It probably lasted a few moments longer than it should have, but he was the one who pulled away first.
“Was it that bad?” you joked.
“Nah, it was great. I just ain’t gonna try my luck too hard.”
A mischievous grin.
“Unless that wasn’t enough for you, sweetheart.”
Nope. You had the feeling if you started making out with him, you’d wind up in the backseat of his car. Seriously. This guy.
“Geez,” you said, “take me out to dinner first.”
“Well, I was gonna ask, but I guess the answer is yes.”
Wait, what. Your face got hotter than it already was. “Huh?”
“I wanna ask you on a date. Ya ever been to that burger joint before?”
You shook your head.
“Boy, you are missin’ out. Lemme take ya.” A wink. “Please.”
No. You are not going on a date with him. Your standards are not that low and OK who are you kidding you’re definitely going on a date with him.
He must have noticed you hadn’t said anything. “You worried?” A grin. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll treat you right.”
“OK, OK, I get it, you’re smooth.”
His eyelights got big again. “Your words, dollface, not mine.”
“Whatever.”
He dug his phone out of his pocket.
“Number?” he asked, in a very adorable tone of voice.
You sighed, like it was a great inconvenience. “Fine.”
“Score,” he said as he handed his phone over. That made you blush. You hated it.
You put in your number and handed his phone back. “OK, dummy. There you go.”
He looked excited, like a kid who’d been handed candy. Crap, he’s cute.
“I’ll message you when I get home, yeah?”
“You’d better not be a weirdo when you message people,” you said.
“Excuse you, I am a very respectful, well-behaved boy.”
“Yeah right.”
He snickered.
“Alright,” he said, “I’ll be outta your hair now.”
“Good riddance,” you said, trying to hold back a smile.
“Mean.”
He surprised you with a kiss on the cheek.
“I miss ya already, sweetheart.”
You looked away, your face flushing.
“OK, that’s too cute. I gotta get outta here or I’ll just stay forever.”
You smiled.
He closed his car door and then disappeared. When you leaned down to look through the window, he was back in the driver’s seat. You gave him one last smile and wave, and he returned it with a very sincere expression. Then you stepped back, and he drove off.
Wow. You had the worst taste.
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dewdr0pz · 4 months ago
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CAN I HAVE A HOT CHOCOLATE WITH MY POOKIE BOO SIRIUS?
Feed me mother 😼
(perhaps a few tickles or maybe not :3)
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baby, it's cold outside *ੈ🎄✩‧₊
summary: your first night at Sirius's house during the holiday season <3
a/n: this is the first story for ficmas!! woohoo!! also thank you to my platonic wife @justzoeee for requesting this 🫶 (also here's the recipe to the cookies that the reader and Sirius make if anyone wants them, the only change is that they use the green and red M&Ms)
tags: @back-totheoldhouse @daemontargaryennn @o-kye @unbeleevable @mochamuff1n @prettysinners (this is me just guessing who would be interested in this, please let me know if you would like to be removed/added from the taglist!!)
word count:
warnings: reader's nervous, modern au (not a warning but a heads up), mentions of reader's family not being the best
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You quickly walked up the stairs to Sirius's apartment level (why didn't they have a working elevator in the building?), your teeth chattering from the cold; if it was going to be so cold outside, why wasn't there at least snow?
You blew hot air into your clasped palms before knocking on the door. His festive wreath was on his door, completed with small jingle bells, pinecones, and a large red bow.
The door creaked open to reveal a beaming Sirius dressed in a Christmas sweater, joggers, and a mug of hot cocoa in his hand.
"Doll! Come in, come in," he ushered you inside, "you must be freezing." He set his mug down on the coffee table in front of the sofa before helping you take off your winter coat and scarf. "You look so cute bundled up like that, baby," he teased. He cupped your cheeks in his warm hands before wincing. "Merlin, baby, you're ice cold. You want hot cocoa?"
"Yes, please," you smiled. "And I was thinking..." You slid your hands on top of his. "We should bake cookies."
"I'm one step ahead of you," Sirius snapped his fingers and pulled you to the kitchen. On the counter were assorted ingredients for baking—flour, sugar, the likes of it—and an extra mug put to the side next to a packet of instant hot cocoa.
"Funny how you prepped all of this knowing that all you're going to do is eat the batter and look pretty," you teased, getting a bowl from the cupboard and organizing the ingredients in a more tidy manner.
"Is there something wrong with looking pretty, babe?" Sirius laughed, sitting in an empty space on the counter near you. "And I help with baking! I got the ingredients for you, didn't I?"
"Siri, you grabbed bread flour," you giggled, "and by the looks of what you're trying to make," you motioned at the open recipe on his phone, "you need brown sugar, not white." You grabbed what was needed from his cupboards and started adding ingredients, Sirius handing you what was needed.
"Sirius, stop eating the M&Ms!" you laughed, catching Sirius taking handfuls out of the bag. He smiled sheepishly and put the rest of the handful into the batter.
"Now I'll taste extra sweet when you kiss me," he teased, poking your side.
"I think you'll still taste like steamed cabbage," you playfully retorted.
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Your head was resting on Sirius's lap as you were slowly dozing off, his fingers gently massaging your head. Home Alone was playing in the background.
"You awake, love?" Sirius chuckled quietly. "Maybe we should get you to bed."
"I should be heading home soon," you yawned. "It's getting late."
"Nooo," he whined playfully. "Baby, it's cold outside and you're tired."
"I don't want to bother you," you said nervously, looking up at him.
"You're not a bother," he shook his head. "What is a bother is the fact that you're not asleep right now in my pajamas in my bed."
"Don't you have work tomorrow?" you asked, sitting up a little to rest your head on his shoulder.
"I'll probably call in sick," he shrugged a shoulder. "It's too cold to drive anywhere."
"Are you sure I won't bother you?" you pressed.
"100%," he grinned. He lifted you up into a bridal style like it was nothing. "C'mon, let's get you to bed. I have tons of stuff planned for us tomorrow."
"Like what?" you asked, laughing when he dramatically dropped you on the bed and tossed his warm hoodie and pajama pants on your head.
"Decorating the tree, ice skating, making a gingerbread house..." he listed off.
"You sure we can do all of that in one day?" you chuckled, slipping off your clothes and sliding into his.
"If we can't, then I guess you'll have to keep coming over," he sighed in faux disappointment. "Such a shame. And you might even have to stay for Christmas."
"A tragedy indeed," you giggled, tucking yourself in under the covers and curling up next to Sirius.
"Do you want to stay for Christmas?" he asked softly. "We can bring some of your stuff over so that you can stay."
"Better than spending Christmas with my family," you sighed. "Staying with you's better than listening to my relatives tell me about how I'm a failure in life."
"Well, they can kiss my ass," Sirius teased. "I'm stealing you away and they can't do shit."
"Sounds perfect," you grinned.
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cinnamon-piastri · 1 year ago
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Christmas cookies and kinder bars | Lando Norris
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A shorter little blurb about Lando Norris for day 2 of my Christmas fics, I was running sort of behind today but I still had fun writing a whole thing about Lando based on watching him eat kinder on stream 🤣
Summary: You ask him to get you one thing from the supermarket
Warnings: None 🧡
"Oh no how am I supposed to make Christmas cookies now!" You shouted out from the kitchen as you were kneeling on the counter and digging through the cupboards desperately searching for the cinnamon.
Not long after, Lando came walking out to find out what the crisis was. "What is it babe what can't you find?" He asked with a chuckle struggling to take the situation seriously, as the image of you trying to reach the top cupboard was too entertaining.
"I thought I had cinnamon in here somewhere but I can't find it, and I can't make my cookies without it" you said with a pout as you got off the counter and faced your boyfriend.
"Do they need cinnamon?" Lando asked as if he was seriously suggesting you just skip the cinnamon. "Yes of course if they don't have cinnamon then they're just plain cookies and I can't take those to the work christmas party tomorrow" you said in a panic as your boyfriend approached you.
Lando slowly pulled you in for a hug shushing you. "It'll be fine, do you need me to go get you some?" He asked you with a smile.
"Yes please it's very important" you said as you put on your best puppy dog eyes to try and convince him. He simply laughed "alright I'm here to save the day, I'll grab you some cinnamon little lady don't you worry" he said with a proud expression.
"Thank you so much babe you're my hero" you said as you kissed him on the nose. "Hang tight baby I'll be right back!" He assured you as he grabbed his wallet and headed out of your shared apartment.
He arrived quite some time later with several shopping bags full of various snacks and treats. "Lando what is this?" You asked him almost shocked.
He smiled widely as he placed the bags down. "I got us a few extra bits while I was there, I got your favourite tea, those little chocolate biscuits you like to dip in it before bed, did you know they actually sell kinder Buenos in there!" he said holding up the box with an accomplished expression. "That's more than a few extras babe that's a whole cupboard" you said with a chuckle.
"Did you even get what I sent you for?" You asked genuinely before he nodded in response. "Yeah! It's in here somewhere....." He said sheepishly as he glanced down at the bags trying to remember which one it was in. You simply chuckled and pulled him down for a kiss. "I love you" he smiled widely at you. "I love you too babe, now let's get those cookies baking so we can relax with a hot chocolate".
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mumifyy · 1 year ago
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Can I please request a Vox x Angel Female Reader?
Who just took Vox's Heart(Not literally ofcourse) with just a simple smile and wave
A/N: Ooo this is so cute 😭🙏 // also this is not proof-read!
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VOX x ANGEL!F!READER
HEADCANNONS 💙
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————
Originally, you had died giving away your life for your sickly mother and ended up in heaven.
Only months had passed when you were in Heaven until you were wrongly sent to hell cause someone had framed you.
You didn’t loose your halo nor wings so you had to hide them which was hard but you managed
While looking for a job in hell to actually live, you came across Vox walking down the opposite side of you
You didn’t really know who he was all you knew is that he was famous considering all of the paparazzi following him around (he’s enjoying tf outta it)
Vox’s face was stoic so you did your usual smile and wave and walked past him to be on your way
Unlike the paparazzi, Vox noticed your sweet smile and looked shocked, looking down at the paparazzi and shooing them away angrily before looking at your now disappeared figure.
He was bummed of course but brushed it off as a fan girl
Except he thought about you every once in a while
How could anybody IN HELL smile and wave????
He only saw that on earth?
That’s when he started to look for you on the cameras
Everytime he saw you in the cameras he blushed like crazy
Vox wondered why such an angelic person like you ended up in hell
So when you came into his building asking for work he instantly put you as his personal assistant
You barely worked only just getting him coffee and staying by his side
You didn’t mind working like that for a shit ton of cash coming your way
Not like you needed it badly
But you enjoyed it
You soon came to love being around him
You knew he was dangerous but you didn’t care
After a while you guys started going on outings
He paid for everything and was an absolute gentleman for you
But in the inside was gushing over how pretty you looked in your sundress
After a a couple months or so he starting to court you
Giving you flowers and more hugs then usual
And finally after a week of him doing this
He asked you out and you both had a great time
Soon also asking you to be his girlfriend
You said yes ofc (I hope so cause why you reading this if no 🤨)
————
General head cannons lols
Vox definitely flirts with you behind doors
And in public
Gives you flowers every now and then
Whenever he’s working, you’ll just come in there and give him your cookies you had just baked and give him a kiss and leave
You wouldn’t even be able to cause now your on his lap feeding him the cookies you made
He LOVES making you flustered
Definitely smacks your ass just randomly
Will sometimes just kiss you on the cheeks and gush over you
*ssmooochhhh*
“Jesus fuck babe I love you I can’t even get enough of you”
LOVES spooning you
Tells you he hates it when you dot on him but loves it secretly and you know it
Definitely sleeps with the ‘V’ logo on his screen like the DVD thingy
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THISSSS ^^^
Whenever your on your period he’ll cancel most the stuff he has to do for work and comfort you the best he can
WILL invite you to some podcasts
And will show you off like
“This is my girlfriend, the best girlfriend, the most BEAUTIFUL girlfriend, and I love her.”
“and y’all can’t have her.”
“Losers”
While sometimes bury his face in your chest after a long day
Is an ass man 🙏
He’s prolly both actually Ngl..
More of an ass man though :P
Will do skincare with you (he was forced)
“Babe what’s the point of doing this when my head is a TV???”
“Oh yeah…. I forgot about that”
“Doofus”
“I’m gonna change your channel-“
You: *puts on any kind of chapstick or lip product*
Vox: “what’s the flavor?”
Before you can even answer he kisses you
Vox: “mmmm Vanilla”
He loves Vanilla and coffee
Or lavender
If you where any perfume like it he’ll just *SNNNNIIIIIIIFFFFFFF*
“Mm.. you smell” *sniffs your neck* “so good what are you wearing??”
WILL spoil tf outta you
Like YOU HAVE ENOUGH MAKEUP JESUS
Loves when you make any kind of handmade gift
It’s better than any kind of store bought gift
Like the TikTok’s of the handmade cards of just TONS of reasons why you love him
He would gush and hug you <3
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harrywavycurly · 7 months ago
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I’d enjoy some SC convos just what they talk about when they hang out?🩷
Hiii babes!!! I hope you enjoy these random convos between Harry and his Southern Girl, also one of them is a phone convo so hope that’s okay!💖
-find all things Southern Comfort here✨
A/N: There’s one conversation in here as a Texan I know will spark some controversy if you’re from the south and that’s which brand of tea you use to make your sweet tea with😂 my family is a Lipton tea family so..I’m sorry but so are you in this universe✨
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“You hate it.” “What? No honey..it’s cute…really..thank you.” “That’s code for you think it’s hideous..” “No…it’s code for I think it’s cute that you saw a mug that says something about Texas and you immediately bought it for me.” “But…do you actually like it?” “I do…and it’s true…you shouldn’t mess with Texas women.” “You swear you like it? We can go return it and get one-” “Are you always like this when you give someone a gift?” “No…just with you.”
“Harry Edward are you sitting on my bed with your shoes on? How did you even get this far in my house with them on your feet? You become my boyfriend and forget the rules all of a sudden?” “Oh shit I’m sorry..fuck sorry I didn’t…damn it…oh god-” “Lord sugar just go to the front door and start fresh okay? You look as scared as a sheep in a room full of wolves.” “I just… I don’t…I’m sorry-” “Harry take a deep breath honey it’s okay…just go take your shoes off and watch that mouth of yours…you may be in the bedroom but there’s a time for such talk and now ain’t the time.” “Right…yeah…yeah okay I’m uh….what..what am I doing?” “Putting your shoes by the front door.” “Yes..yeah I’ll be right back.” “You’re so precious when you’re flustered.”
“Baby I’m telling you there’s nothing on this aisle that says…iced tea?” “Harry I told you it’s not going to say iced tea…I use regular tea bags to make sweet tea.” “Really? But it’s over ice?” “I don’t have time to explain how to make sweet tea to you right now honey but can you just grab the one I asked you for please?” “Okay…it’s the red one right?” “Red? No..it’s yellow.” “Yellow? Are you sure?” “Am I sure? Harry I’ve been making sweet tea since I was five yes I’m sure…if you try to bring that red box of Luzianne tea into my house I will-” “Okay okay I got the yellow one…uh Lipton? Is..that’s the name of it?” “Perfect…don’t forget the sugar and the-” “lemons…I won’t forget love don’t worry.” “Oh I’m worried sugar…but okay I’ll see you when you get here…tell Kathy hello for me.” “Will do sweetheart.”
“You’re staring.” “Is that a problem?” “I can’t bake when someone is staring at me the whole time sugar…now be a good helper and tell me how much milk?” “Uh..half a cup.” “Thank you…oh so how was your day off yesterday? Did you try that hot yoga class you told me about?” “I did…it was good…I don’t think you would’ve enjoyed it.” “Well yeah honey…I told you I wouldn’t like it.” “It was hard but..it was fun..just a bit more uhm..intense than the classes you’re used to.” “I’m a proud yoga newbie…I mainly go just to watch you do the weird poses that let me see all your tattoos you keep hidden from me…because they make your little short shorts roll up your thighs or your shirts to ride up.” “Uh..uhm…what?” “Yeah..like those fern leaf things…oh yeah…I snuck me a good long peak at them the other day during our beach yoga class when you were doing that downward dog pose thing.” “You did?” “Well yeah? What are you the only one who’s allowed to stare?” “No no…feel free to stare at me all you want baby.” “Thanks…now what’s next? How much sugar?” “Uh..sorry what are we making again?” “Lord honey…don’t make me kick you out of the kitchen…again.”
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gunnerfc · 1 year ago
Text
❄️ WOSO FICMAS: Dec. 22 - Georgia Stanway❄️
Georgia Stanway x Reader (Bayern & Lioness) | WC: 836
Dec. 22 prompt - baking cookies
-> woso ficmas masterlist can be found here!
Whoever on your team decided that you and Georgia should be in charge of baking cookies clearly wanted you to suffer. You had about three days before the team would be bringing some sort of dessert or baked goods to training to have a little holiday party before everyone departed for the break. You had sent Georgia to the store to get the ingredients that you needed but when she called you three times to ask questions, you knew this was going to be a rough experience.
You waited until the day before to start baking, not wanting to have the cookies done too soon before you needed them. You didn’t allow Georgia to help, knowing your girlfriend would take the opportunity to mess with you.
Georgia sat on the kitchen counter, watching you prep the kitchen to start making the cookies. The midfielder eyed the bag of flour you had sitting next to her, tempted to throw a bit at you when you were least expecting it. You had your back to her as you washed your hands so you didn’t notice when she poured a bit of flour into her hand.
You turned around to grab the towel to dry your hands as you felt powder hitting your face. You stood for a moment, face covered in flour as you heard Georgia trying (and failing) to hold her laughter in.
“See babe! I told you it would snow!” your girlfriend joked, giving up on holding her laughter in.
You sighed at her statement and turned back to the sink to wash your face off. This time when you turned to reach for the hand towel, Georgia kept her hands to herself and let you be. You dried your hands and face, refusing to look at your girlfriend who had a bright smile on her face.
You tried to focus on the directions in front of you but your girlfriend who was loudly singing behind you made it difficult. You rolled your eyes at her antics, doing your best to tune her out.
“Hey babe, would you still love me if I was a worm?” the midfielder randomly asked as she stopped singing.
“What the hell are you talking about,” you groaned, throwing a look in her direction.
“It’s a simple question! Would you still love me if I was a worm, yes or no?” Georgia spoke, repeating her question like it made complete sense.
“No, I don’t think I would still love you if you were a worm, babe,” you huffed, turning your focus back to what you were making.
Georgia gasped dramatically from behind you as if you offended her with your answer. When you didn’t give her a reaction, she hopped off the counter and moved so she was standing right behind you. You could feel her breath on the back of your neck and you felt your face heat up at her closeness.
“Babe. babe. Babeeeee” Gerogia whined in your ear, bored out of her mind.
“Love, please just let me finish and then we can do whatever you want,” you tried your best to ignore the begging.
Georgia huffed this time, moving away slightly and you thought you would finally have some peace to finish mixing all the ingredients. You were sorely mistaken when you felt an egg crack on your head. Neither of you moved, both in shock. You heard Georgia snicker behind you and you turned to face her.
Your girlfriend was half expecting you to tell her off but her surprise when you threw a handful of flour at her was better than yelling. You both stood in the middle of the kitchen, now wearing the ingredients you needed to bake cookies.
“You're gonna regret that, love,” Georgia smirked at you, reaching past you to grab the entire bag of flour.
“Wait, G. Let's talk about this, I was just getting payback,” you tried to persuade your girlfriend into putting the bag down but it was no use.
Before you could even attempt to move out of the way, Georgia dumped the entire bag over your head, covering you with flour. You stood in shock as the midfielder howled with laughter at your current state. You shook your head to try and shake off some of the flour before looking up at your girlfriend.
Georgia could see the devious glint in your eyes as you rushed into her, wrapping your arms around her body essentially getting flour all over her. The two of you went back and forth coating each other in various foods, wasting the ingredients you had bought to make cookies for the team.
You ended up having to wake up earlier than normal to rush to the store to buy store-made cookies and get rid of the packaging to try and pass them off as homemade. No one but Georgia knew the truth and you had to force her to not tell everyone that you didn’t make the cookies like you were supposed to.
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