#how to make baked banana cake

[tooquirkytolose]

My fellow American hobby bakers, demoralized by egg prices and scarcity and how you will make the American apple pie or the chocolate chip cookie, fear not. I have spent many years turning regular baking recipes vegan for my corrupt and traitorous sister who last week ate a salmon cream cheesed roll. There are many, many substitutes for eggs including but not limited to:

Mashed banana: best added to compliment flavors of whatever it is you're baking (peanut butter, chocolate) make sure it's MUSHY and ripe

Apple sauce: again, best with complimentary flavors (cinnamon, brown sugar) use unsweetened and have the rest as a snack

The big boy champ, ground flaxseed: flavorless, though it does darken your batter/ dough a bit. Bags found next to cornstarch and almond meal, etc. Instructions on how to use right on the bag! Make sure to let the flaxseed water combo sit in a separate bowl until it has the consistency of mucus 👍

Now with all of these you MUST add a bit more leavener, they don't have the lil bit of lift eggs give, so make sure you add a touch more baking powder. Sort of ok for brownies and cookies if you want them a bit more dense but KEY for cakes, quick breads, muffins and other things like that or she is gonna be SQUIDGY 🫡

[briarscreek]

mafia boss price in the 40’s and how you both meet

you moved to the city to get away from a toxic family and start a new life. becoming a career woman, that they chastised you for. you attend a new church because the ones back home were full of hate but you wanted to at least give this one a try.

it’s not a big one, probably has more seat rows than people on a busy sunday service but it’s incredibly welcoming. a pack of four old ladies come up to welcome you to the church, ask to take you to lunch and ponder more about your life.

no husband? that’s alright dear. you are an exceptionally intelligent young woman who they can’t wait to see flourish in her career. you start to grab lunch with them more throughout the next few weeks after sunday service; a new routine for you while they gossip about their sons. something about the family business but you never understood what that particular business was.

you ran into mary on a late wednesday evening at the grocery store, running out of a cooking ingredient you forgot to grab earlier in the week. she had as well, claiming that she’s baking a large batch of cookies for the youth center with a 25 lb bag of flour in her hands (that you tried to help her with while she almost scolded you about it). you’re both making small talk as you hear a deep voice from behind her.

“there you are, mum. you can’t go wandering off like tha’.”

a bulking man of 6’2 with a mutton chop beard and bright blue eyes came right around behind mary and took the large sack of flour from her hands onto his shoulders.

“darling, i’d like you to meet my son john.”

it was like sparks between you but you couldn’t be sure if he felt them too.

“hello, love.”

smooth man. just like the playful mirth in his eyes and the grin on his lips.

“john? mary, is this the same john who actually slipped on a banana peel and ruined his grandmother’s birthday cake, right?”

the grin dropped and the tips of his ears turned red.

“mum! you told her that yet i don’t know anything about her?”

“then get to know her john”

he turned back to you as he heard you quiet giggles.

“would you like to go to dinner with me, love?”

“i would love to.”

“i’ll pick you up at 7 on Friday.”

“wait, you don’t know where i live.”

“no but my mum does, i’ll ask her for directions.”

mary and john had both walked out of ear shot before you could say anything else.

“thanks for helping me find my wife, mum.”

“of course dear. anything to help get me my grandchildren!”

[cuntyji]

the first video nanami ever posted was filmed on a shaky phone propped up against a bag of flour.

he was making bread—simple, easy, the kind of thing he found comfort in after long days at work. his hands moved methodically, kneading the dough with a quiet precision, and though he spoke very little, the video was oddly calming.

he hadn't expected much from it. maybe a few views, maybe a couple of people who’d appreciate the lack of unnecessary chatter. but the comments were overwhelmingly positive, people asking about his technique, his recipe, his voice—deep, smooth, effortlessly steady. so he made another video. then another.

it was the late-night upload of him singing "baby one more time" by the marías that changed everything.

filmed on an old macbook with a grainy webcam, the lighting barely enough to make out his face, the video had been an impulse decision—one he almost deleted. it was just him, sitting on his couch, his voice low and hushed, the way he usually sang to lull yuuji to sleep. but the internet clung to it like ivy, twisting and reaching until the video had over a million views by the end of the week.

"who is he." "why is this the most intimate thing i've ever heard in my life." "he looks exhausted and sounds like a dream, i'm in love."

he thought it would pass. but it didn't.

his subscribers doubled overnight. the demand for more was loud, insistent. nanami, being nanami, didn’t rush to meet it. instead, he structured it into his routine: one video a week, a mix of baking and singing—because baking was reliable, and singing had never been something he shared outside of yuuji’s bedtime.

his channel evolved. the baking videos became polished, edited with subtle precision. he switched to voiceovers, explaining each step in that same low, deliberate tone that made people feel like he was speaking just to them. and when he sang, it was always songs that carried a quiet sort of nostalgia.

"he only sings songs he sings to his kid to sleep i’m crying." "his lullabies are better than half the music industry." "i don’t know his name, his age, or his face properly, but i know his banana bread recipe by heart."

nanami never explicitly talked about being a single dad, but it was impossible to miss. yuuji’s voice sometimes made cameos in the background, muffled questions about homework, laughter when nanami burnt the edges of a cake. he didn’t hide it, didn’t play it up. it was just a part of his life, and his audience adored him for it.

his faq video—one of the few times he ever directly addressed personal questions—answered almost nothing.

"are you married?" "no." "how old are you?" "old enough." "what's your name?" "nanami."

the mystery only made people more obsessed.

"i know nothing about him but i’d die for him." "his hands. his voice. his existence." "the fact that he bakes and sings for his kid and still won’t tell us his age is crazy."

he now posted twice a week. one video was always baking, the other was whatever he wanted—sometimes music, sometimes a quiet q&a, sometimes just a video of him making tea while rain hit the windows.

people knew everything and nothing about him at the same time. they knew the exact ratio of brown sugar he preferred in cookies but not what city he lived in. they knew he tucked yuuji in every night with a song but had never seen his full face in a single frame. they knew the precise cadence of his voice when he said “and that’s how you make the perfect loaf” but had never heard him say “i love you”—and yet, somehow, they felt like they had.

the internet had fallen in love with him. and nanami, quietly, without even trying, had changed his life with nothing but flour-dusted hands and the sound of his own voice.

[universefcb]

can u do a lando x reader where she gets along well this his family and he cant help admire her and think about marriage and stuff like that. thank youu <3

WHAT IF IT WAS 4EVER?,LANDO NORRIS.

→ Summary: You went to spend a lazy Sunday at his parents' house with his family.

→ Warning: Mention of Reader. Fluff. Romance.

→ Author's note: Please make me more requests from him! I love writing about him.

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

The Norris house smelled of lavender, fresh coffee, and baking banana bread. It was one of those lazy, overcast Sundays when everyone wore sweatshirts and spoke softly so as not to break the spell of comfortable silence.

Lando sat on the edge of the kitchen table, his long legs stretched out in front of him, watching a scene that had been repeating itself for a few weeks, but it seemed like the kind of routine he wanted to have forever.

She.

In the kitchen with her mother, laughing easily as she cut fruit, grabbed too many cups at once, and stole spoonfuls of raw cake batter. She got along so well with everyone—as if she had grown up there, as if she already knew the exact places for the cutlery, the favorite smell of his sister's tea, his father's silly jokes.

“Do you think she’ll accept?” Flo’s quiet voice brought him back to reality. She was standing next to him, drinking a cappuccino.

“Accept what?”

“You.” Flo raised an eyebrow. “With that silly look on your face, you’re going to propose to her tomorrow.”

Lando let out a muffled laugh, but inside… she was right.

He looked again.

She wasn’t just beautiful. She was warm, she was light. She was “stay in bed for five more minutes”; she was the kind of hug that could calm any storm. She had a way of smiling that made people stop talking just to keep looking.

And the scariest thing?

She liked his family. She really did. It wasn't an effort, it wasn't out of politeness. It was genuine.

When his mother mentioned the old dress from her youth, she asked to see it. When his father mentioned old cars, she asked. When Cisca teased Lando, she laughed knowingly. Everything with her was natural. Nothing forced.

Later, when lunch was over and everyone was sprawled on the couch with dessert plates on their laps, she laid her head on Lando's shoulder and began to play with his fingers.

“Your family is wonderful,” she said softly, so that only he could hear.

Lando swallowed hard. His heart was beating faster than on a starting grid.

“You are wonderful,” he replied.

She smiled against his skin. But then she straightened up, sitting back down.

“You seem strange. Are you okay?”

“Okay.” He ran a hand over his face. “I’m just… trying to figure out how I ended up here. On this couch. With you. Feeling like… this is it.”

“What is this?”

He looked into her eyes, and even though he was afraid of appearing too intense, he didn't hold back.

“That’s it. Me, you, my family. The sound of the rain outside. You making tea for my mother, playing with my sister. Me wanting time to stop. That’s it.”

She didn't say anything for a few seconds. But she took his hand and squeezed it tightly.

“I feel it too. And if it comforts you, it also scares you a little.”

Lando smiled, a shy smile, different from the ones he gave to photographers or on podiums. It was that smile that only she knew. The real one.

“It’s not fear of failure,” he confessed. “It’s fear of not being enough. You…you are so many things.”

She laughed, looking at him with that sparkle in her eyes that made everything seem easy.

“So we do it together. And you’ll see: what you take from life... is this.”

When everyone went to sleep and only the two of them were left in the room with the movie paused and the lights dimmed, she dozed off with her legs over his. Lando didn't have the heart to wake her up. He stayed there, running his hand through her hair, watching her serene and sleepy expression.

And it was in that moment — simple, calm, without anything extraordinary — that he knew for sure.

It wasn't the highest podium he wanted to reach.

It was her.

That was it.

It was all that.

And if he ever had the courage, he would tell her that he thought about asking for her hand right there, with her hair spread out on his lap and the muffled sound of the rain through the window.

But for now, Lando was content to kiss her forehead and promise, with all his heart:

“I will make you happy. Every Sunday. Forever, if you let me.”

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[eclairemaire]

Meeting the Missus pt. 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Wife! Reader

Category: Fluff

Summary: The Team finds out Bob is married and wants to meet the missus.

Warnings: Reader is described very similarly to Rhea Ripley, Reader and Bob are very much in love, No mention of Y/N used, Southern Reader (she's like all southern ladies sweet like iced tea, but can knock you on your ass if she has too), Express mentions of reader and Bob's Child, Lemme know if I missed any.

Word Count: 1.2K

Notes: This will be the final part of this series for now. I'm not sure how I want to continue the story. I hope everyone enjoys! If you have any requests, mine are open, and I will try to get to them. Enjoy!!

Everyone had started making their plates for lunch as you and Bob started to sort through what everyone brought. Nat brought hard seltzers and brownies. Payback brought a salad and a variety of dressings, and Sprite. Fanboy brought some homemade salsa and tres leches cake, along with some Mexican Cokes. Coyote brought oven-baked Mac ‘n cheese and fruit salad. Hangman brought ribs, banana pudding, and beer. Maverick, Penny, and Amelia brought a nice bottle of wine and sparkling grape juice for the girls so they wouldn’t feel left out later. Rooster brought sugar cookies from the grocery store and various snack foods.

After finishing sorting the rest of the food and drinks, Bob goes to help Riley make her plate, and you move to turn music on, the first song being Pink Floyd’s ‘Time’ from the Dark Side of the Moon album. Before moving back into the kitchen to make you a plate, grab some ribs, smoked sausage, mac and cheese, corn on the cob, chips, and ranch dip before heading out to the back patio.

Everyone had lots of food on their plates and had started eating before you had sat down. “This is some bomb food, Mrs. Floyd. I mean, I knew the food you made was good from how Bob’s always melting into his seat at lunch, but this is on a whole other level.” Fanboy said as he took a bite out of his burger.

“Thank you, Mickey,” you say as you start to eat food off your plate.

“So, I know everyone wants to know, how did you two meet?” Hangman asked as he looked between you and Bob.

“Well, it's kind of silly.” You say, making eye contact with Bob as you move to take a sip of your drink.

“It was back when I still rode broncos in rodeos. After I graduated from high school and before I enlisted in the Navy.” He said, picking at his food.

“Wait, you actually rode broncos?” Coyote asked, his face showing his disbelief.

“Hell yes he did, damn good at it too.” You exclaim as you scoop up some mac and cheese onto your fork. “That rodeo buckle I wore the first night at the hard deck was the one he got the night we met.” 

Hangman looked so surprised, “You won at a rodeo? I’ve been to many a rodeo; those broncos are brutal.” 

“I’d been riding my whole life, I was raised on a ranch, you know,” Bob said, turning to wipe some food off Riley’s face.

“Wait, what were you doing at the rodeo?” Maverick asked as he looked at you.

“I was there looking for work. I needed a job after high school, and I’d been going to and from ranches for as long as I could remember, so it was almost a no-brainer to try and get a job that dealt with livestock.” Turning to look at Bob, you continue to speak. “My grandparents had horses when my mama was growing up; she had always ridden, and even though we didn’t live in a rural area. I was taught when I was younger, and often spent time in the barns tending the animals.”

“I saw her when she was riding one of the mechanical bulls there -” “I’d never ridden a real bull, mind you.” You interjected as Bob mentioned the mechanical bull.

“Anyway, she was the only one who could stay on longer than anybody else. She was intimidating as shit back then.”

“Back then?” Nat asked incredulously, “She’s intimidating now.”

“NO, well, yes, you are still very intimidating,” Bob fumbled as he looked from Phoenix to you. He smiled at you before continuing with the story.

“I’d never seen anybody like her before. All the women in my life, while very strong in their own ways, were always soft in comparison to my wife. None of the girls I went to school with wanted to deal with hard labour, they would rather watcha movie, paint their nails, or do their hair and makeup.” He said, looking at you with adoration.

“Granted, I didn’t want to do that forever, example A, my life now,” You say, gesturing around you to your house and towards Riley.

“She was beautiful, and as she mentioned, looking for work. My dad hired her to help out on the ranch. We met her first day when I walked up on her changing into her work clothes behind our barn.” He huffed a laugh at the memory.

“We worked together for months before I worked up the nerve to ask her out. Then I enlisted in the Navy, and she went back to her hometown for college,” he said before shoveling some food into his mouth.

“We wrote letters to each other like total dorks and met up frequently while he was on leave. When we found out I was pregnant with Riley, we got married, and he took a few months off to help me with Riley after she was born, and then he got stationed at Lemoore, and we lived out there until we came here for the special detachment.” You say, looking around at everyone, and then your gaze landed on Riley. 

“Wait, so Bob, did you marry your first love?” Payback asked.

“No, I’d dated other people during high school,” Bob answered like that was obvious.

“What about you, Mrs. Floyd?” Penny asked as she spoke up.

“Me? No, actually, when we first met,” you start pointing between yourself and Bob, “I was at that rodeo with my girlfriend. We broke up shortly after I started working at the Floyd family ranch.” You say with a deadpan expression on your face. A few members of the squad looked shocked at your mentioning of a girlfriend, namely Payback and Coyote.

Rooster just huffed out through his nose, “I knew you were fruity somehow.” He said, pointing at you.

“You don’t get to call anybody fruity while you and Hangman dance around each other the way you have been, for as long as I’ve heard about you.” You point your fork at him with an eyebrow raised. Rooster raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Whoa, what did I do? I haven’t said anything.” Hangman asked, giving a brief glare in Rooster's direction, for somehow bringing the attention to their situation. You just gave him a pointed look.

“Mama?” Riley came to stand in front of you. “Can I have some dessert? And can Amelia and I go play games in the living room after?” She asks, her eyes were big, and she was giving you that look that you cannot deny.

“Sure, Bug, what do you want?” You ask as you stand and pick her up as you walk into the house. Yours and hers conversation fades out as you go inside.

Amelia went inside briefly after you and Riley. She had a vague idea as to what the team was going to start pestering Bob about and didn’t feel inclined to listen.

“So you got her pregnant before you married her?” Fanboy wiggled his eyebrows at Bob as he asked what everyone was thinking.

“Okay, do not say it like that, we were planning on having a kid, and we were both prepared for everything that could happen, plus it’s not like we had her when we were teenagers. We just so happened to have her before we got married.” Bob explained after sighing like his friends were his kids instead of his child, who was with you getting dessert inside. 

tags: @7dreambaby

[xoey101]

Bf!Gojo bakes for you!!

tags: fluff, drabble, no one can’t convince me that Gojo isn’t just the sweetest

Gojo would learn how to bake just for you. One of his primary love languages is gifting—and what could be a better gift than your favorite sweets?

It wasn’t easy for him at first, obviously. There were several burnt sheet cakes and baking pans—whenever he ruined a desert he could only sigh and look at you with downturned eyes.

But now, you’d never know that Gojo struggled with baking to begin with! He’s making banana bread every week to go with your coffee in the morning. Creme brûlée for date nights. Tiramisu after you’ve had a long day at work. Small macarons that you can enjoy at work.

He tries to act all nonchalant about it:

“Oh babe, I wanted somethin’ sweet so I thought I should make something for you, too,” he watches in anticipation, eyes wide as you pick up the pink frosted cupcake with your fingers.

“Aww Satoru how thoughtful! This looks amazing,” you coo gently before taking a small bite. “Tastes divine, too. You’ve gotten good at this!”

“It’s nothing, really,” he claims, but deep down, he feels like he could just click his heels and dance. Your approval means everything to him, even if he doesn’t let you know it.

Now, he’s plotting up other ways to get you to show him your precious smile. Maybe you’d like it if he started packing your lunches, too?

a/n: comments and reblogs are much appreciated :) hope you enjoyed!

[jyoongim]

~BLOOD & BLISS~

Human!Alastor x wife!Reader

Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy,  blood, murder, secrets 

In this chapter: slow build up! Smut! Love-making, Creampie, slight breeding kink

this chapter is VERY long!!!

Chapter one Chapter three

Chapter two

The sound of voices filled your home as the ladies chatted in your parlor.

“Oh honey is that peach cobbler? Why you would think it was Sunday with the spread you made.” Agnise said as you came from the kitchen with the dish and placed it on the dessert table, causing all the ladies to turn to you.

You had finger sandwiches filled with ham, beignets, one too many cakes, banana pudding, sweet tea and lemonade.

You were in a baking mood and since it was just high noon, you kept it lite for today’s meeting.

You let out a laugh “oh it was nothin’. Thought we deserved a treat since the last time we saw each other. We housewives deserve a little sugar sometimes.” The ladies giggled at your comment.

Grabbing a sandwich, you took a seat by Rosie, “Now what were y’all talking about while i was in the kitchen?”

”Abi was telling us the Smiths youngest was found in bed with that scrappy gent that worked down at the mill” Rosie said, sipping her tea. You gasped, hand over your heart “Ain’t that girl engaged to um oh what that boy’s name?” You snapped your fingers trying to think

”David Johnson” Abigail snickered “Just know Old smith threw a fit. I heard her mother went crying to the church shouting. Ooooh must have been real bad”

Agnise chimed in “Also Harriet told me that Elaine is expecting…and it ain’t her husband’s” shocked gasps filled the room. “Elaine? As in love the church, has three youngins Elaine? Oh that poor woman I don’t know how she do it” Rosie shuddered. Abigail smirked “Yeah poor Elaine, so who’s the father?��

Agnise chuckled “Take a guess”

Literally you, Rosie, and Abigail looked to each other puzzled.

”Pastor Brown from the next town over”  Agnise said.

squeals and laughs erupted from all of you.

You shook with laughter as you took a deep breathe. “Ok ok enough of that. How have y’all been?”

Rosie was running a boutique, New Orleans finest clothes and it was really taking off. She talked about how some cheap fabrics came in and she ain’t have a clue what to do with them.

Agnise happily chirped about how her two oldest had got accepted in some fancy school on the other of town.

Abigail complained that she thought the maid was stealing her clothes, claiming too many of her fine dresses were missing out of her closet.

”Oh dear how is that handsome husband of yours? I was hoping to the man when I was coming in.” Rosie said smiling. 

Rosie and Alastor were the closest besides Mimzy. He often dropped by to have her make your clothes and tailor some of his suits.

”Oh you know how Alastor is” you waved your hand, “he set out early this morning to the radio station. We’re suppose to down to Mimzy’s club tonight”

Agnise and Abigail looked at you shocked “That ol rigity joint? Oh darling no. That man makes good money, why y’all going down there?”

You had met Agnise and Abigail when you were in school.  They were a bit more Polish than Rosie who didn’t mind a good time.

”I think that lounge is rather charming. The music is good.” You defended.

”Well enjoy it now, I had a dream bout fishes and you know what that mean” Agnise said, giving you a knowing look.

You blinked, then blushed, taking a sip of tea. “I don’t know what you’re talking about” you feigned dumb.

She smirked, red lips curling “You’ve been hiding news from us haven’t you?”

Abigail looked at you, “Are you?”her honey eyes roamed over your figure.

”Ladies no! I’ve told y’all me and Alastor haven’t discussed children. We don’t have time for that” you said pouting at their accusations.

”What man don’t want his own running around? The two of you been married for a few years now, i had half expected at least something.” Agnise said.

”Alastor has just settled in good as radio host. What kind of wife would I be if I just randomly suggested having a little one running around? No I couldn’t.” You gripped your cup, looking down.

You and Alastor hadn’t really discussed children. You figured you would wait a few years to get settled into your marriage before thinking of children.

With alastor’s career taking off, you didn’t have it in you to just spring the notion on him.

You didn’t mind. It was quite nice not having to clean and look after a baby.

BUT 

You did want to potentially have children with Alastor.

The house would be a lot livier and you thought Alastor would make a great father.

”Y’all ain’t getting any younger dear!” Agnise said “i mean unless there’s a another woman invovled”

Rosie let out a hiss, glaring at the woman “Oh shush that! Alastor wouldn’t do that! He loves his wife too much to even look at another woman”

Agnise shrugged.

Abigail patted your hand “Honey don’t listen to her. I am sure you’ll have a whole litter running around afterwhile. Not having children ain’t all that grand.”

You pouted. That did not make you feel better.

Rosie seeemd to pick on up your down mood and interjected

”We came to discuss books! Enough of this husband and children talk! So we left off at Charles securing the mistress!”

The little gathering went on without a problem, but the comments and conversation still bounced in your head. 

Alastor wouldn’t seek out another woman just because I haven’t…right?

You and Alastor’s intimate life was fine to your knowledge.

 The man wasn’t the most affectionate, but he did try. 

He was loving and gave you anything you wanted.

THATS what any wife wanted right?

Not having children didn’t seem to make him any less doting with you.

But you still felt that nagging doubt as you tried to reassure yourself.

”Bye now! Tell Nathaniel I said hello and Abi please just see if the maid took your dress!”you hollered from your porch, waving the ladies as they smiled and walked down the street.

You sighed. Rosie had stayed behind and was cleaning up.

”oh Rosie you’re a guest please let me” you said grabbing the dirty dishes.

”I’ve been here so much this is practically my home girl please.”she laughed as she grabbed the tablecloth and put in in the hamper.

”Those two are certainly a handful. Don’t take what they said to heart. They are just bitter their husbands don’t love on them like yours” she chided.

You hummed. Rosie was right. What did it matter that you didn’t have kids? That didn’t change anything.

”I know Ro but I feel like I’m failing as a wife. But i promise I’m fine I swear” you quickly said as she gave you a look.

She looked at the clock “Oh my well look at the time! Do give Alastor my love dear”

You gave her a hug and walked her out, waving her goodbye as she waltzed down the road.

You were now alone.

The house was quiet and you had cleaned up everything so you wouldn’t have to look at the mess in the morning.

You rolled your shoulders, sighing at the tension and decided a quick nap wouldn’t hurt as you wait for Alastor to come home.

—————————————————————————————————

The sun began to slowly set through the trees as Alastor ran a bloody hand through his hair, the brown strands slicking back as he breathed deeply. The man had put up quite a fight, but luckily Alastor could quickly deal with his little problem. 

He had planned to take his wife out for tonight, but with the way he was feeling, he would rather be in your embrace and sleep.

He would stop and get you your favorite flowers as an apology and maybe cook for you instead. A soft smile appeared on his face as he imagined your face as he came in with flowers and kissed your soft lips as he propose hell cook for dinner.

Soft jazz would be playing and after the meal he would ask you to dance. Peppering your face in kisses as you laughed at him, thinking he was silly.

And maybe afterwards, he could indulge himself in you. A shiver ran through his body at the thought of your face contorted in pleasure. 

Oh yes he was sure you wouldn’t mind why he came home late

He hid away his shovel in an old storage house and changed clothes.

Getting in his car, he hummed along to the radio as he thought of what to make for dinner.

—————————————————————————————————-

Alastor softly closed the back door as he slowly set down the flowers and groceries. He peeked his head in the parlor and found you sleeping on the couch.

He quickly made his way upstairs, hid his clothes in the back of your closet, showered, and went back down stairs.

He grabbed the flowers and slowly slid beside you, pulling you into his lap.

You snuggled into his neck, eyebrows scrunching, waking up ”hmmm Alastor?” you groaned as he snickered. He pressed his lips to your plump cheek “Seems my darling wife had a very long day. Seems I got caught up at work and didn’t catch the time. But…” he pressed the flowers to your nose as you took a deep inhale of the flowers, smiling “I do hope you would forgive dear.”

Your heart fluttered at the man, standing to put the bouquet in a vase.

You caught sight of the time and gasped “oh no! I can’t believe I fell asleep for that long, lord on high I ain’t got a single thing out to cook.” You went to make your way to the kitchen, but Alastor was quick to wrap his arm around you, pulling you into his lanky frame. “Don’t you worry about dinner darlin’ I got it. I had promised you a night out and forgot. So to pay for my offense Ill cook dinner and why don’t you go upstairs and put on something pretty  for me hmm?” He pressed a few soft kisses along the column of your neck, making your breath hitch slightly, before patting your ass to get you moving towards the stairs.

Once you made it back downstairs, the smell of dinner made your stomach growl.

Alastor was just setting th plates as you entered the kitchen. “Book club must have been something today, I see you baked a lot of goods today. Good thing I checked before thinking of making dessert” He turned to actually look at you.

Gorgeous is what he thought as he took you in.

You opted for a simple slip dress that fell just before your knees. How enticing.

 You accessorized with your pearls and even had your hair curled slightly.

He couldn’t help but wrap his arms around your waist and bring a hand to his lips, kissing it as he looked at you with utter devotion.

”My my don’t you look lovely dear” he whistled, twirling you around slowly.

You blushed and looked towards the stove “Dinner smells great Al, what did you make?” He ushered you to the dining table and pulled you chair out for you to sit before fetching tonight’s dinner.

Shrimp and grits in one bowl and jambalaya.

For dessert he took a piece of butter cake that you made earlier and chilled sweet tea and lemonade.

You moaned in delight as the flavor of the jambalaya burned your mouth. “Oh Al! You added a bit more spice this time but it goes good with the grits. oh i love your jambalaya.” You praised him.

You practically danced in your seat as you ate causing Alastor to chuckle.

”I never tire of your praise for my mother’s recipe my dear. I must say this cake might just be my new favorite” he said.

You decided to fill him the latest gossip you heard today from the ladies

”Rosie sends her love by the way. Oh you would not believe what Agnise told us today…” you started.

Alastor had a lazy smile on his face as you talked animatedly about todays gossip. He nodded along and even gasped at the details you shared. You made him swear he wont repeat it anywhere, including on the radio.

You took a sip of lemonade ”Agnise made a comment that she was surprised we haven’t had kids yet. Can you believe that woman?” Alastor tilted his head “I wouldn’t put it pass that one. Well what did you say?”

Alastor asked taking in your reaction as you pouted, swirling your fork in your grits before stabbing a shrimp. You sighed “I told her that we just weren’t ready. I mean you just got settled in at the studio good. Then the nerve of that woman to say that you were probably seeing another because I wasn’t putting out.” You mumbled that part, feeling  pinges of doubt start to rise in you as you looked at him.

Alastor scoffed “darling I only ever had eyes for you” he reached across the table to grasp your hand, thumb fiddling with your wedding ring. “Nothing will make me look at you different. To me, you’re perfect. You are much more than I could ever deserve” he smiled at you. “Do you want children darlin?” He asked.

You blinked, a warm blush crept up your cheeks “I-I mean it might has crossed my mind once of twice, but I-I dont know” you looked away, feeling shy.

Alastor grinned “I think you would make a wonderful mother my dear. Through I will admit having to share you i dont know about that” he laughed “buuuuut if having children will make you happy, who am I to say no?” His voice dropped an octave as he smiled at you.

You were shocked. You hadn’t thought that Alastor would be open to having children. But you didn’t just want to have kids because of social pressure. You wanted it to be something you were sure of…

”Its a big responsibility if we have children Al”you whispered. He hummed, shrugging “Dear I make more than enough that our children will have comfortable upbringing, besides Ill be there the whole step of the way”

That reassurance made your heart swell.

You smiled, a soft laugh bubbling out of your chest “Then I guess well see what happens then huh?”

You finished dinner, Alastor leaving the dishes to soak and you giggled as he dragged you upstairs. “Alastor! Hahaha dont you have work tomorrow?” You entered your shared bedroom and squealed as he lavished your exposed shoulders in kisses.

He groaned in response as he unbuttoned his shirt as his hands gripped at your hips.

”what do that have to do with us delving into the throws of pleasures darlin? Its been quite some time since I’ve paid you proper attention.”

Your back hit the duvet as he situated himself between your thighs. Your dress bunched at your hips, exposing your lacy garter. His hand toyed with the fabric, lips curling in a smirk “Were you planing to seduce me dear?” You shook your head as you curled your arms around his neck, pulling his head to meet his lips.

”Hmmm lets keep the pearls and garter on” he grinned down at you.

”Nngh! Ah! Ah! Ha! Ah! Oh god!”you cried out as Alastor thrusted into you. Your fingers gripped at his hair as you moaned into his neck, kissing over the red bruises forming on his skin.

Fingers flexed on your thigh, keeping your leg pressed into your stomach. The only sound that filled the room were your sweet moans and his soft grunts and the slap slap of his dick burying into your cunt.

Alastor’s back muscles flexed as you raked a hand along his back, groaning as your nails left burning trails into his flesh.

”One more. You can give me one more can’t you darlin?” He asked huskily as he snapped his hips into yours.

Your body buzzed as your third orgasm approached. The pearl necklace that hung around your neck, bounced with your breasts as Alastor nipped at your neck. One of his hands crept up your chest to play with one of your nipples. Tugging and pinching the perk peak as your cunt clenched around him.

”I can’t wait to see you pregnant ma cher. All nice and round, carrying my child.”

A sharp pinch had you whining “These lovely tits of your full of milk god I can’t wait to taste it” his head shifted to your chest, his warm mouth taking the mound into his mouth. Teeth and tongue teased as his thrusts picked up pace.

”A-Al! Oh! Oh! P-Please!” You threw your head back in pleasure.

Alastor couldn’t help but let his twisted feelings take over, a hand wrapped around your throat, applying slight pressure as you whined.

He brought his face back to yours, nose brushing against yours as your swollen lips enticed him to suck and bite at them. He maneuvered both your thighs to be pressed against your stomach, giving him leverage to hammer into you soppy heat.

”You want me to give you a baby darlin? Hmm? Want me to fill the needy cunt of yours and spill my seed into you?”you moaned, eyes glazed with lust.

Alastor smirked “Use your words baby. C’mon” a harsh thrust made your toes curl.

”y-yes please please Alastor give me a baby!” You cried.

A wild look was in his eyes 

“Oh ill give you all the babies you want. I’ve wanted to see you swollen with my child since our wedding day. You’ll look so pretty baby. All filled with my cum and swollen. Yeeesss what a lovely sight you’ll make”

His thumb worked tight circles on your clit as your back arched into him as your orgasm ripped through you. Alastor slammed his lips on yours to swallow the loud moan that tried to spill from your lips.

He grunted as his hips shuddered. Chasing his orgasm as he rode yours out. With a hiss, his dick twitched and soon warm cream painted your gummy walls.

With a sigh, he coaxed his tongue against yours as he gave you a few more soft thrusts.

Panting and flushed, your legs fell limp as he pulled out and smirked at the mess he had made of you.  A white stream slowly pooling out of you.

Spent and feeling the blissful afterglow, you curled into the covers, wincing at the stickiness between your thighs. Alastor pulled you into his chest, kissing your forehead “normally Ill clean you up, but since were trying no need.” He brushed a curl out of your face as you began to fall asleep

”Alastor?” You said tiredly.

He hummed, as he ran his hand up and down your arm, admiring the red bruises on your neck and shoulder

”I love you”

He grinned as you dozed off.

”I love you too dear”

———————————————————————

Soooo what did you guys think??? Bit of a slow burn yes? we got a peak into what Alastor was doing hehehee

@nightshadelm @th3-st4r-gur1 @amurtan @lunaramune @southern-bayou-beau  @karolinda007-blog @simphornies @yourdoorisunlocked @nettaw @purplecatsandhearts @catherine1206 @jellibean2018 @thewinchestah @wonderlandangelsposts @alishii @readergirlstuff @missgurlsstuff @yuzurixx @darkovergrownforestnymph @dasimp777 @markster666 @alastorsgirl48 @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @preciousbabypeter @alastwhore666 @strawberrypimp666 @stawberrypimpsimp @queenariesofnarnia @peachedtvs @peachedtv @tpks @siiv3r @hazelfoureyes @okay-babe @aconfusedworld @chewbrry @altruisticalastor @yunimimii @dievia3 @alastorsdear @alastorsdarlingdoe @t0byisher3 @dennsfz @twismare @nanami1chu @yoongibabs @menthatilove @smoky000 @luzzbuzz @stygianoir @kiralaufeyson84 @for-hearthand-home @luzzbuzz

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

an idea if u do decide to take rqs: foods enha would cook/bake u as their significant other

but u can always delete this :P

ahhh i love cute lil domestic prompts like this oneee,,,sorry it took me a while to get to this anon! here are lil blurbs of meals enha would cook for you hehe (only the hyung line though because i have insane writer's block rn) here's a lil something something before the next part of the no doubt series!

& side note: to all u fine line enthusiasts, the heeseung one is for you ;)

THE BOYFRIEND CHEF DIARIES ─ hyung line ⭑.ᐟ 

HEESEUNG doesn't know how to cook until after midnight. until it's quiet, the both of you probably half asleep, curled up on the couch and watching some rom-com that you forced him to watch with you (but he definitely still cried). until your stomach growls at the end of the movie and he slowly turns to you and gives you the look. you sigh. "hee, it's late, let's just go to be—" "baby, are you ready for gourmet?" yup, he's a lost cause. he disappears into the kitchen for a solid ten minutes and when he comes out, messy hair, wide grin and all—there in his hands: instant spicy ramyeon. he proudly places it on the coffee table in front of you before sprinting back into the kitchen and running back with the finishing touch: a slice of cheese. "amazing. beautiful. a masterpiece," he whispers to himself. you roll your eyes at your dramatic boyfriend. you regret buying him the pack of ramen to stock up at home. "okay, open up," he holds the bowl up under your chin with the chopsticks dangling in front of you, his eyes watching you intently. and when you finish, at the expense of your own tastebuds dying from spice, he runs back into the kitchen and makes you cool down with, of course, a single box of—coffee milk.

JAY only exists to spoil you. that's it. that's his sole purpose on this earth. so when you say you're hungry? oh, he's not cooking you a meal, no. he writes a cookbook for you. buried somewhere in one of the shelves of your shared kitchen—he has a notebook. a sacred notebook where he's literally documented the recipe to every meal you've ever liked—whether homemade, or meals from restaurants that he would attempt to recreate for you when it's too late at night for him to order in for you. so when you mutter you're hungry—he gasps and runs to grab it. "okay baby, what are we feeling tonight?" he's flipping through the pages like a man possessed. "do you want the stew from that place we went to last week? we should have all the ingredients. i'll sub the radish with potato." flip. "oh! what about the grilled chicken from our trip last year? i think i perfected the sauce, trust me." flip. "wait. no. no no—this is it. i'll make your favorite stea—" "jay." he freezes. his hand is mid-page-turn. you raise an eyebrow, amused at your endearing psychopath of a boyfriend. "i just wanted a snack." jay grins. "perfect. i'll start the grill, you grab the steak." sigh.

JAKE tries to surprise you with pancakes. not in a sweet breakfast-in-bed, 'good morning, my love' kind of way. no. he wakes you up at 2:43AM because he got hungry and missed you. "jake," you mumble, eyes still closed. "i've been here. the whole time." "i know," he whispers dramatically, already half-laying across your body, "but i still missed you." "...we're literally touching." "doesn't count. you have to be awake," he sighs, before releasing a storm of desperate kisses all over your face. "please, please, please come to the kitchen or i will cry. from starvation. and love." and so here you are—sitting on the counter, legs dangling, watching this menace of your boyfriend mix banana milk into his pancake batter, claiming he saw it once on tiktok and now must try it. a couple minutes—and a few stolen kisses from the counter later—and they're slightly undercooked. and shaped like questionable blobs in his attempt to make them heart-shaped. and he calls them 'jake-cakes.' but he tops it off with some strawberries and whipped cream and mumbles something about presentation being overrated anyways. then he places the plate beside you with a grin, slipping between your legs and feeding you a bite like it's a wedding cake moment. you chew slowly. it's raw. he looks at you like you hung the stars. so you smile anyways. it's the thought that counts.

SUNGHOON has never touched a kitchen utensil in his entire life. but it's late at night, and you're craving pasta. pasta. so, one frantic google search on how to boil water and one very questionable hour later—"wait," you smack your lips together, chewing the noodles he proudly presented in front of you as if he was a master chef himself. "it's...really good, hoon." his eyes go wide. "REALLY?" you nod, fighting back a smile. "yeah, seriously. i'm impressed." he blinks. "like, good good? or good-for-a-guy-who-thought-the-spatula-was-a-back-scratcher good?" you giggle. "good good, babe. i like it, good job." he throws his head back and pumps the air like a cartoon character. "I AM HIM!" he runs a victory lap around the kitchen and crashes right into you, wrapping his arms tight around your waist and lifting you up like you're his trophy for cooking one (1) decent meal. pasta sauce gets everywhere in process—but you're laughing, sweet and loud, all while sunghoon's thinking one thing: thank god he found that jar of pasta sauce in back of the pantry.

this is actually just pure crack, i apologize heh

[inawickedlittletown]

From Loaves to Love -BuckTommy (one-shot)

Summary: Set during 8x07, Eddie sends Tommy a picture of Buck's baked good filled fridge. Fix-it fic. A continuation for the snippet I posted this morning. Words: 2.9k Read on Ao3

-

Tommy receives a picture of a fridge full of baked goods. Mostly, from what he can tell, loaves. The picture comes from Eddie without a caption. It takes a while for him to realize that the fridge is familiar because it belongs to Evan.

Eddie texts him a few minutes later:

Every time he thinks about calling you, he bakes something instead.

Tommy has a little bit of a breakdown about that because maybe in his mind he'd thought that Evan would already be over it, over them. He'd been not hoping for it, but expecting it, even while he knew that he would probably have a few more cries about it and that any reminder of Evan was enough to make his heart hurt.

The thing is that Evan isn’t really a baker. Or at least, he hadn’t been in the six months that they were dating. He’d been busy from the looks of it. He’s still looking at the picture when Lucy plops down next to him. 

“What’s happening there?” 

Baked every time he thought about calling Tommy. He doesn’t even fight when Lucy grabs the phone out of his hand and scrolls back on his texts with Eddie. 

It’s been the only form of communication he’s had with anyone from the 118. He was thankful for Eddie and for the way that he’d reached out the day after the break up not to demand anything of Tommy, but to ask how he was doing. 

Tommy had texted him back after some consideration. In all their back and forth, they hadn’t discussed it or Evan. Tommy hadn’t allowed himself to ask, not sure if he wanted an answer. 

“What are you going to do?” Lucy asked. 

“What do you mean?” 

Lucy fixed him with a look. “Tommy, you’ve been moping for days. Clearly he is too. Neither of you wants this.” 

“It’s for the best,” Tommy said and he didn’t even know if he believed that anymore. 

He’d believed it in the moment, had been so absolutely sure that it was the right move for both of their sakes and yet…

“You’re running,” Lucy said. “I know…I know you’ve been hurt before, but this time you’re not just hurting yourself. You’re hurting Buck too.”

“He’ll get over it. I’ll…I’ll get over it.” 

Her eyes bore into him even as she handed him his phone back. “Thomas, you’re in love with him.” 

—

Buck had bought all the baking supplies when he’d decided he’d take a stab at making Tommy a birthday cake. That had been before his heart was wrenched out of his chest and given a few stomps for good measure. That was before Buck decided to Buck things up by pushing for more too quickly and before Tommy decided that it was better if they ended things before Buck could end it in the future.

He didn’t bake a birthday cake. 

Instead, he baked a banana bread with the bananas that were going spotty. He discovered that being busy and having to pay attention to something like the recipe kept his mind off Tommy. Except that Tommy came rushing back into his head afterwards. 

Buck almost called him. Wanted to. Wished he could hear his voice and his laugh and that they could fix it. 

Fear stopped him. Fear that Tommy had blocked his number. Fear that he wouldn’t pick up. Fear that he would and that he’d tell Buck not to call. Fear that he would call him Buck again instead of Evan. Fear that Buck would be sent to voicemail and that he would say something he couldn’t take back. 

So, he didn’t call. 

Instead, Buck baked a pumpkin loaf. Then an apple loaf. Then a walnut and date loaf. That was when he realized he was out of flour and also that hand mixing was not ideal. 

He called Eddie. 

It had taken him hours before he told Eddie what happened. Eddie hadn’t said much, but he’d offered Buck the couch and then went out and got them breakfast the next morning. Eddie was the one to tell the rest of the 118 and when Buck begged for Eddie to check on Tommy, Eddie just hit his shoulder. 

“I already did,” he’d said. 

Buck didn’t talk about Tommy again. 

“What’s going on, Buck?” Eddie asked over the phone. 

“I need you to come to Costco with me.”

“Costco?” Eddie asked and after a pause. “Yeah. Alright. I’ll even drive.” 

Eddie didn’t say anything when Buck bought the twenty-five pound bag of flour or the bottle of vanilla extract, or the sugar, or the bags of nuts. He did raise his eyebrow when Buck picked up a Kitchen-Aid mixer. 

“What is all this, Buck?” 

“I just…I need to do something.” 

“So you’re starting your own bakery?” 

After they got everything up to his apartment, Buck sent Eddie home with all the bread he’d made the night before. Eddie didn’t say a word, but he did look like he wanted to say something. A few days later, Buck thought that he’d gotten quite good at making different types of loaves. He’d even branched out and found more interesting and complicated recipes. 

He did have to take a second trip to Costco to get more eggs when he got it in his head that he should attempt a baked alaska.

Buck did think he saw Eddie take a picture of the contents of his fridge the night he came over to play video games. 

Maddie and Chim both didn’t seem to get it. When she said the universe would give him someone special, did she not realize that it had already happened? That Buck had somehow still managed to blow it and that Tommy wasn’t leaving his heart anytime soon? That not calling him was Buck trying not to push where he wasn’t wanted? That not calling was Buck letting Tommy have what he wanted. 

And yeah, Buck had been thinking about what Tommy said after Buck not being his last and how he needed to explore. It was bullshit, but if that was what it took…if he could prove to Tommy he’d tried to find whatever it was he was supposed to find with other people then…

The logic was dumb. 

After they left, making him promise he’d cut back on the baking, Buck went back to baking. He made brownies and took them right into work the next day alongside a banana bread, a walnut loaf, a zucchini bread, and a pumpkin spice loaf. 

—

The knock on his door was in a quick rhythm and Tommy almost didn’t answer. He’d been wallowing a bit because they’d had plans for tonight. Plans to celebrate his birthday, no less. 

Tommy hadn’t celebrated many birthdays in his adulthood. There had never been much of a point, but Evan had wanted to plan out a date for them and now…now Tommy was all alone in his house wallowing. Moping. Rethinking his whole life. 

“Coming,” he called out when the knocking started again. 

He was not expecting Hen and Karen. No kiddos in sight to see the state of him at least. Tommy was a mess. He’d changed into sweats and a tank the moment he got home. His hair was a mess. His eyes probably looked red rimmed and exhausted. 

“Hi,” he said. “What are you—”

“Happy Birthday,” Karen said. 

“Oh? Uh, come in.” 

Tommy didn’t even realize they had a small box with them until Hen plopped it on his kitchen counter. 

“What is that?” 

“You broke it, and suddenly we’re all on the verge of becoming diabetics and it was just Halloween so we’ve all had more than enough sugar. But it’s your birthday and we figured you should get a taste of what you’re created.” 

“What?” 

Out of the box came bread loaves. Muffins. Cookies. Brownies. Hand pies. Were those meringues? No cake, though. 

“He bought a Kitchen Aid. He’s becoming some sort of baking machine,” Hen said. “All because he can’t bear to think about you.” 

That went right to his chest. Lucy wasn’t wrong. Tommy did love him. Tommy was in love with him. 

Looking at Karen and Hen, he wondered if they would understand where he was coming from. 

“I was his first boyfriend,” he said. 

“We’re aware,” Karen said. 

“So, then…then you know what that means. He’s been out for…for six months and he doesn’t have any other experience except for with me. How is that fair to him? To me? One day he’ll realize and then that’ll be that.”

“You’re a dumbass for thinking that,” Karen said. 

“My wife is usually right about things,” Hen said. 

Tommy groaned. “He put me on a pedestal. He doesn’t know it, but he sees me as his gay mentor and he’s confusing that with…with, I don’t even know. I just — I had to put a stop to it before—”

“Before you got hurt,” Hen finished for him. 

“Looks like you didn’t avoid that,” Karen offered. “Did you talk to him about any of this? You guys were together for six months, what was the point if you were always going to just leave in the end?” 

Tommy hadn’t even realized he was crying, but he was. “It’s not like I planned it. It was…it surprised me too. He asked me to move in with him and he was talking getting engaged and married and—”

“Wait…wait, he asked you to move in? How do you go from that to breaking up?” 

Tommy couldn’t explain about the Abby thing and he couldn’t explain about how he wasn’t the guy that got forever and how he wasn’t the guy that deserved someone like Evan. He couldn’t explain about how much it freaked him out to think that Evan could jump right to moving in together before they had even said that they loved each other as if Tommy were just some kind of place holder until Evan found someone else. Someone better. Explaining that would make him be seen and Tommy…he didn’t know that he wanted to be seen even if Hen and Karen could understand where he was coming from. 

“Look, talk to him. Please,” Hen said. 

“This is just a bump in the road. The two of you, you’d never looked happier than you have in the last six months,” Karen added. 

“I…I don’t know.” 

—

Buck ran out of sugar. 

Jee was partially to blame because she’d spilled some the night he had her as a helper. It was 3am and Buck supposed that there was probably somewhere open that he could get some sugar, but he was down to just his underwear and the plaid shirt Tommy had left behind that didn’t even smell like Tommy anymore and wasn’t that just unfair. Plus, his oven was on and Buck didn’t want to leave it on while he went out to get sugar. It would be just his luck that he’d be back and his apartment was one fire. 

Eddie probably had sugar. Buck didn’t want to bother him. 

Chim and Maddie would judge. 

Bobby might bring some over or he might just tell Buck to go to sleep. 

He couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t stop thinking about Tommy. Missed him. Wanted him. 

Buck grabbed his phone and he went right to messages and typed:

Ran out of sugar. Do you have any? 

Sent it to Eddie. 

No response. 

He wandered over to his couch and…Tommy had slept there just a few weeks ago because he didn’t want to leave Buck on his own. No one had ever done that for him before, cared enough to stay and cared enough to give a damn. Buck wiped at his eyes. It wasn’t fair. 

When he broke up with Natalia he had felt free. When he broke up with Taylor he’d felt like he was finally choosing himself. Ali leaving had been clouded with so much else that Buck had hardly been able to think about the break up because his leg was in a cast and his future was in question. Abby…well that had been devastating and yet this…this was worse. So much worse. 

His phone pinged. 

He fished it out of his pocket and oh no…he…the text hadn’t been sent to Eddie. He’d sent it to Tommy. 

Yes. 

Oh no. And he was typing. And not typing. Typing. Then…nothing. No message. No more typing. No call. Tommy was bubbling him again. 

Buck dropped onto the couch with a groan. At least Hen and Eddie weren’t there to try and steal his phone again. This time, Buck didn’t even want to call. 

After all the times he stopped himself from reaching out, that was what he sent? A text asking for sugar? 

When the knock came at his door, he went to open the door, reluctantly. A part of him almost didn’t even expect it to be Tommy but of course…of course it was Tommy standing there in his pajamas with just one of his flannels open over it all, in each hand a container of sugar. Brown and white. 

“You didn’t have to,” Buck began. 

“It sounded desperate,” Tommy said. “Hi, Evan.”

“Come in,” Buck said. 

Tommy stepped inside and Buck closed the door, trying to gather himself. In the light of his kitchen, he could see that Tommy looked if nothing else tired. The skin under his eyes was dark, like he hadn’t been able to sleep. Buck could relate. Tommy was taking him in too and that made him feel the tiniest bit self conscious about his lack of pants. 

“So, you’ve taken up baking.” 

“Yeah.” 

“That’s not a normal response to a break up.”

Buck laughed. He laughed because he might cry if he didn’t. 

“Do you want me to be like you, then? All unbothered at the end of the best six months of my life? Is that it? Oh, wait…no, you want me to go find myself or something? Sleep around and what, go back to being the himbo that Abby dated after you left her? Except I guess now I can sleep with men and women, somehow I don’t think it will go any differently.” 

“Evan,” Tommy said and his voice was gentle and sad and there were tears in his eyes. 

“I can’t do that,” Buck said and his voice broke. “I can’t. I can’t. I miss you. I want you. I wanted to bake you a birthday cake and since I couldn’t do that I baked everything else and it still isn’t enough.”

“Oh, Evan,” Tommy said and he set down the sugar and opened his arms, giving Buck the option. 

—

Evan rushed into his arms, burying his head in Tommy’s shoulder, tears and all. His arms clutched at him and Tommy didn’t think that Evan was likely to let him go any time soon. It didn’t matter, because Tommy wanted to hold onto him too. 

“I’m sorry,” Tommy said. “I’m so sorry. I did this to us.” 

Evan nodded against him. “I didn’t help,” he muttered. 

“When you texted me tonight…the thought of you up at this hour baking, I got worried and I’ve been literally doing anything possible to stop myself from driving over since that night. I had to come. I had to see you.” He took a breath and couldn’t hold it in any more. “I love you, Evan.” 

“You love me,” Evan said back, pulling back, staring at him with that amazed look in his eyes like he couldn’t quite believe it. 

His hands reached for Tommy’s face. “I guess it’s a good thing I love you too. And I am never letting you go, again.” 

Their kiss was reminiscent of the first. It was even happening near where that kiss had happened. It was gentle, soft, full of so much wonderment and feeling. Neither of them willing to push it into more because this was what they needed. There was so much to talk about and so much to consider and work on and yet, Tommy wasn’t afraid of that as much as he was afraid of giving up on this. On them. On Evan. 

He’d lived a little over a week without Evan and even that was too much. 

“I’m still not moving in with you,” Tommy informed Evan after a few more shared kisses.

“Oh. Yeah, I jumped the shark on that a little.” 

“You also forgot to consider that I own my house and you rent,” Tommy said. 

“So, how about this, nothing changes and we communicate more. You decide when you want us to move in together because we will. One day. You may be the first dude I’ve ever dated, but I think you can be the last too.” 

He kissed Evan again and Evan moaned into the kiss. They were interrupted when the oven timer went off. 

“I thought you ran out of sugar?” Tommy asked. 

“I was going to make apple pie,” Evan said. “That’s cupcakes.” 

He let Evan go take them out of the oven and out of curiosity began to look around. Opened the fridge. He couldn’t even begin to count how much Evan had managed to bake. 

“What are you planning on doing with all of this?” 

“I have no idea,” Evan said. “Donate it?”  

Tommy just laughed. “Yeah, Evan, I’m sure someone will appreciate it. Those cupcakes are mine, though.” 

“Yeah,” Evan said. “Happy birthday, by the way,”

Tommy ate the first cupcake before it had cooled and without any frosting. “Hmmm. Delicious.” 

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

At This Hour

Jonathan Levy x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 24: On the counter

Summary: You look after Ava while Jonathan goes out on a date.

A/N: Thank you so much @thexsanctuaryx for betaing and being so lovely! <3

Warnings: neighbour!reader, mentions of the reader liking horror films/Terrifier, reader also has a cat, p in v sex, cream pie, fingering, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 2554

Jonathan knows he shouldn’t be doing this. But he just can’t help himself. 

The date had been a bad one, pointless in fact. He should have ducked out after the first ten minutes, no five. 

But he’d stayed and now it was nearly twelve fucking am by the time he got home. He should really go to bed. Get some sleep. 

Instead, he was talking to you, and drinking coffee. Oh, three am him was going to be pissed.

“I’m sorry I kept you so late,” Jonathan pushes his glasses higher. “Please, you got to let me give you some money.”

You shake your head, raising your hand, “Oh, no, no, no, you letting me pinch your netflix and amazon password for the last four months is more than enough.”

He chuckles, fiddling with his mug, “Yeah, but that’s just being neighbourly.” 

You scoff. “It is not, Jonathan.” 

Your friendship had started about seven months ago, when Jonathan had taken in a grand total of eight parcels from fedex on your, and your roommates, behalf in one day.

After collecting them, you’d apologised profusely, and baked him a banana cake. Panicking when you gave it to him that a, you didn’t actually know if he was allergic to anything, and b, that he actually liked bananas. 

Luckily he did.

Your friendship had grown when his car wouldn’t start one morning, and you’d given him a lift to work on your moped and picked him up after. Plus you’d got your friend’s cousin’s, uncle’s ex-colleague to have a look at his car and sort out the problem. 

He’d bought you lunch and looked after your cat if you had to go out of town. You watched his daughter if he had to work late on the days he had her. 

Originally, this hadn’t been his weekend to have Ava, hence why he had a date. A very, very bad date. 

“Come on,” he smiled at you, that horrible brilliantly blinding smile that leaves you weak at the knees, “usually you’re just with her for what, forty five minutes? An hour, this was nearly four.” 

You giggle, “I can’t believe you didn’t just politely leave.”

“I am a man of faults.” 

You laugh harder, “Look, I like Ava, we watched a series of R rated horror films and I made sure she ate her weight in sugar without brushing her teeth.” 

He grins. “I’m sure I would have had a better time with you guys here.”

You shrug, “Well, you can join us next time. We’re going to watch Terrifier.” You tease.

“Ugh,” he shudders, “Don’t tell me you like those kinds of films?” 

You can’t stop from smiling at his dramatic reaction. “What? You don’t?” 

He pulls a face and you giggle.

“They’re fun!”

“They are not.” He takes a sip of his cooling coffee, trying to nurse it as long as he could.

“They are.”

“All blood and guts.” He screws up his face, putting it on a bit for you.

“But the prosthetics! Plus it’s not real.” You say playfully. 

“Freaky.” He shakes his head. “Too much for my old heart.” 

You snort. “Jonathan.”

“What?” He smiles.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?” 

“You just want me to tell you how young you are.” You rest your chin on your hand as you look at him.

He pauses and then nods rapidly, “I do actually, and you have to, it’s the social contract.” 

You giggle, “Well, I’m not.” 

“That's unfair.” He says in mock outrage, making you laugh harder. 

“Fine,” you hold up your hands, “You’re very handsome.” 

He pauses, looking at you for a moment. “I said you had to tell me I was young, not beautiful.” He teases, expecting you to throw a comment back at him immediately. 

But instead, you pause. For a moment, it’s almost funny how you freeze. 

“I…” You swallow, your mouth dry. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“It’s okay,” he quickly covers, “I’m just teasing, it’s fine.” 

You smile weakly, your skin burning. You get up quickly, nearly knocking your mug over in the process. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Sorry, I, erm,” you pick up your mug, and then his, “Let me, erm, I’ll put them in the dishwasher.” 

You turn before he even has a chance to say anything, rushing over to the other side of the kitchen, putting the mugs on the counter.

Jonathan stands quickly, calling your name, “Hey, it’s fine, really. Don’t worry,” anxiety cuts into his chest, leaving his ribs bare. He walks behind you, accidentally bumping into you as you turn. 

“Sorry,” he grabs your arm to steady you and himself, his heart thudding so hard in his temples he’s sure he’s going to burst a blood vessel. 

You glance at his eyes nervously, breathing hard. “I…”

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” He says softly. He should put his hand down, stop touching your arm. “I was just teasing.” 

You nod, “I know, I… I’m sorry.” Your insides squirm a little, trying to find a way out to escape this awkwardness. 

“Don’t be,” he breathes, leaning a fraction closer. “It’s always nice when someone beautiful calls you handsome.”

Your brain glitches, static for a moment, rebooting.  

“Beautiful?” You repeat.

“Beautiful.” His mouth says before he has any say in the matter. “And kind, and funny, and wond-”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you and kissing him deeply. He groans into your mouth, pressing you back against the counter.

It takes him a moment to catch up with his body, to figure out this is actually real, not some well used fantasy he plays out behind his eyes in the shower. 

You pull lightly at his hair, moaning softly when he licks into your mouth and pushes his legs between yours. He rocks against you, his cock quickly hardening in his trousers as he presses against the seam of your jeans. 

Part of him wants to pull back, to not push things, to not rush. But the much louder voice in his head laments at how long he’s been holding back, how long he’s been thinking of you while touching himself with a lubed hand. 

You gasp as he kisses along your jaw, his beard tickling your skin as he sucks at your pulse point greedily. God, if he could just get you to make that noise one more time.

“Jonathan,” you moan softly, pressing yourself closer to him and pulling on his shoulders, needing to rid the fraction of space between you.

He growls, nipping at your neck and nearly coming on the spot when he hears how needily you call his name. “Can I take these off?” His words are nearly lost with how he sucks on your skin, barely able to move his mouth back more than a centimetre. He pulls at your top, your trousers and you nod hastily. 

His groan at your confirmation makes you shiver. He practically tears your clothing from you, pushing and pulling the material away as if it personally offended him, before he hikes your right leg up around his waist and urges you up onto the counter. 

He sucks your breasts into his mouth greedily, quickly going from one to another, like a child in a toy store unable to choose his favourite. While he presses his thumb to your clit and strokes his fore and middle fingers through your folds. 

He groans deeply at the wetness he finds, rocking against you as he pushes inside. 

You gasp, biting down on your lip to keep yourself vaguely quiet as you cling onto his shoulders with one hand and the counter with the other. 

He strokes gently, pressing rhythmically against your walls as he toys with your clit and you sob, practically clinging onto him for dear life.

Pleasure builds dizzyingly fast in your belly, threatening to pull you down with every stroke. You moan in his ear, lightheaded, just about gathering yourself together to whimper his name. You weren’t prepared for this utter onslaught, for him to be so determined to pull you apart piece by piece. 

Spikes of sensation buzz along your skin, twisting and building. 

“You’re going to make me come,” you sob, shocked at how quickly your body is ready to fall apart. 

“Fuck yes,” he growls, sinking his teeth into your collar bone before he licks up your neck back to your lips. It’s hot and wet and messy, his tongue in your mouth to quiet your sobs  as you pulse and gasp, coming violently around his fingers. 

You shake in his grip, breaking the kiss to bury your face in his shoulder. He works you through it, stroking and pumping until you feel like liquid in his hands. 

“God,” he groans, kissing your forehead and breathing hard. He takes his fingers out of you slowly and shoves them in his mouth, moaning wantonly at the taste. 

When you manage to pull back a fraction to look at him, you can see his glasses have steamed up. You giggle and he grins around his fingers, taking them out with a pop to kiss you. 

You run your hands through his hair, shivering as he presses close once more. 

“Do you?” He starts at the same moment you speak - “Can I?”

He chuckles, nodding for you to go first. 

“Take these off.” You mutter, pulling at his jumper. He moves back a fraction, letting you pull it over his head and snorting when his glasses get caught in the neckline. He whips them off, placing them on the side, his curls wild. 

Jonathan bites his lip as you unbuckle his jeans, helping you by undoing his fly.

“Can I fuck you?” He groans, kissing your cheek and jaw, each glide of his tongue makes your body sing. 

“Please.” 

He growls, barely pushing his jeans and boxers down his thighs before he’s taking his heavy cock in hand and pumping himself a few times. 

You take a cheeky look down and bite your lip. 

He grins, “Like what you see?” 

The line would make you giggle in any other situation, but now your mouth is watering. You nod rapidly. 

“Oh,” he chuckles, spitting in his hand, “So that’s what makes you lost for words, I get it.” He smears his saliva over the head of his cock before he presses closer, guiding the tip to your folds. 

“You’re really-” You whine, gasping as he notches at your entrance and just glides inside. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, your body bucking unthinkingly as he pushes deeper. 

He groans deeply, sighing like this is his first drink of water after a long hot day. He slides his hands to your inner thighs, spreading you wider as he eases in.

“Jonathan,” you gasp.

“I know, I know, fuck, you’re so tight.” He lightly rocks his hip, sheathing himself in the last few inches. 

You whine, licking into his mouth when he kisses you hungrily. He thrusts experimentally, easing out a fraction before he pushes back in. 

“How do you like it?” He mutters against your lips, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back. 

“I don’t mind,” you manage to say, your voice barely there. 

He snorts, moving one of your legs to wrap around his waist again as he takes hold of your hips in a firm grip. “Tell me if you want something.” He groans, pulling out and then plunging back in. “Want to make you come again.” 

You nearly shriek, throwing your head back and managing, somehow, to keep your voice muffled as he sets a brutal pace. 

He bucks into you rapidly, shaking the cutlery on the drainer by the sink with every deep thrust. The toaster jumps with every buck of his hips into yours. The sound of your slick echoing as you coat his cock.

“You look so fucking hot when you come,” he groans. “So fucking wet.” He pounds into you, sweat beading in his hairline, the way you grab at him and whine setting his blood ablaze. 

His pubic bone smacks against your clit with every thrust, his cock rolling against your walls and pushing impossibly deeper. 

Something in you wants to break, needs to snap and flood out as he keeps rhythm, your body moving in time with his desperately. 

You bite at his neck, sucking a love bite into his skin and shivering when he tenses and growls. He pulls you back a fraction with one hand on your jaw, his eyes so dark, and licks into your mouth like you hold the secrets of the universe. 

You whimper, so needy for anything he’ll give - and he’ll give you everything. 

Pleasure pulses in your core, makes your pussy flutter and you’re so close you can taste the sweetness on your tongue. 

“Jonathan!”

“You gonna come on my cock? Gonna make a nice creamy mess?” He groans, his balls tightening. “Want to feel you, please.” 

You gasp, sobbing silently as your orgasm is ripped from you. Pleasure explodes along your nerves, wiping out any other thought as he drowns you and revives you in the same instant. 

“Shit.” Jonathan’s hips stutter, his mouth open as your walls squeeze and suck him deeper, milking him for every single drop. He comes with a deep groan, emptying rope after rope of hot, thick cum inside. 

He clings onto you as he finishes, hazy for a moment with the strength of his orgasm. 

You breathe hard, he can feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest. 

Lightly he sucks on your neck, licking the salt from your skin. He kisses your temple. “You okay?”

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk for a week.” You tease, exhausted, and he chuckles.

“I’ll wait on you hand and foot while you recover.” He smiles when you look up at him, stroking your cheek as he kisses you softly, reverently. 

“Honestly, was that alright?” He mutters, a pang of worry settling under his ribs.

You snort, and kiss him deeply, stroking your fingers through his beard. “Fucking amazing.” 

He grins. “Do you want to do it again sometime? Maybe in a bed after I’ve bought you dinner? I’ll even watch that Terrifier film with you.” 

You giggle and nod. “I’d like that.” 

He tries to help you down, but you end up helping him. His jeans have twisted around his calves and he nearly falls to a heap on the floor. 

“My hero,” he mutters as you pull them off and kiss his thigh. “We’re lucky Ava didn’t wake up when we were… can you imagine me falling over is the thing that actually wakes her? She’ll need therapy for years after seeing her dad naked on the kitchen floor with his jeans around his ankles.”

You clap your hand over your mouth to stop your fit of laughter and he grins as he helps you back to your feet.

“I love hearing you laugh.” He lightly touches your cheek. “Do you want to take a shower?” He gives you a cheeky smile. “With me? You can stay over… if you want, I mean. No pressure.” 

You smile and nod. “I’d like a shower. With you. And sleep over.” 

He grins, wrapping his arms around you. 

Thank you for reading!

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[deepestdelulu]

How to touch some grass

A guide for chronically online girlies who spend every second of their life scrolling through Tumblr. (no front, I love you <3)

Go on a walk. Fresh air, baby!

Lay in the sun. Or in the rain, since it's autumn.

Read a book. Only if you are able to with your goldfish TikTok attention span, lol. <3

Draw Something. I challenge you to draw a cat.

Try learning a new language. A date with the Duolingo bird.

Go to the theatre alone. Sit in one of those couple seats and stare at the cringy couples while eating popcorn; ignore the movie lmao.

Clean your room. Or reorganize it!

Climb a tree. At your own risk.

Make yourself some tea. Maybe host a tea party!

Try a new hairstyle. I've been trying those low space buns jk?

Bake a cake. Like a fancy and cool one!

Throw your phone into a lake and try to find it. :)

Workout or do yoga. Pilates can be fun too.

Try making friends in irl. This is a tough one, I'm sorry. <3

Paint your nails. Mine are black rn!

Start planning your birthday. Or write your Christmas wishlist.

Go get a coffee. Make your way to your local cafe and try something new! <3

Try learning how to crochet. I've been crocheting makeup bags, lmao.

Do your skincare routine. Do a face mask, and take time for yourself. <3

Make a smoothie. I'll give you a recipe... Banana, raspberries, strawberries, yoghurt for protein, your milk of choice and some coconut flakes as a topping!

Do your homework. So you can be lazy without feeling guilty.

Water your plants. They did nothing wrong... come on.. :(

Go to Ikea. Who doesn't love IKEA?? (not sponsored, lol)

Don't judge me, I wrote this at 3am, and I have the flu. It was fun tho haha.

✩‧₊*:・love ya ･:*₊‧✩

[no-goodbyes-no-regrets]

I see you're looking for prompts, so if you're still writing then how about:

Tommy comes over and accidentally interrupts Uncle Buck time.

Sorry it took so long! I hope you like it!

---

"Ok Jee, these need to cool off while the other batch is in the oven." Buck told his niece, putting their freshly baked cookies onto a wire cooling rack. He grabbed her hand and moved it away when she tried to grab one. "No, no, these are hot. You'll burn yourself. It'll hurt. Ouchie."

The girl tucked her hands against her chest and warily eyed the rack.

"They'll be cool enough to eat in a little while." he promised her. "And we can make the chocolate chip ones while we wait for the snickerdoodles to cool off."

"With extra chips!" Jee announced happily.

"Sure. Why not. We can even make some more so you can take them home with you when mommy and daddy come pick you up." Buck suggested. "And maybe some banana bread too..." he mumbled more to himself than to Jee.

He flicked through the cookbook he'd bought so he wouldn't have to look up recipes on his phone (and he'd be less tempted to check his text thread with Tommy) to find the right page, while Jee pointed out all of the other things she wanted to make.

"And this!" Jee pointed at a picture of a cake that looked like something out of a professional bakery and way above his skill level.

It was perfect. A complicated recipe meant his brain had no time go over that last conversation with Tommy again to try and figure out how and where he'd screwed up so spectacularly.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Buck glanced at the clock on the oven, but it wasn't anywhere near the time he expected Maddie and Chim to be back.

He quickly wiped his hands on his apron, deposited Jee on the sofa with the cookbook and rushed to open the door.

He expected to maybe find one of his neighbours on the other side, or someone trying to convince him to donate to some charity.

"Tommy?"

The other man looked about as well as he felt. Dark circles under his eyes, hair a mess, and the same three day stubble that was currently on his own face.

"Hey... Uhm... I did text... And call... But you didn't reply."

"Oh uh... Yeah my uh phone is on silent..."

Tommy nodded, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket.

"C-can we talk?" Tommy stammered and Buck realised he was nervous. Cool and collected Tommy Kinard was nervous about talking to him.

Before Buck got the chance to answer, a loud beeping came from the kitchen and Jee excitedly ran up to the island.

"Uncle Buck! It's done!"

"Oh... Is this a bad time?"

"Uhm..." Buck desperately wanted to talk to Tommy, but at the same time he had to keep an eye on Jee and their baking adventures. "Just... Come on in. Close the door behind you." he rushed over to the kitchen to shut off the timer and check the cookies.

"I can just go... If I'm interrupting your time with your family..."

"No, it's fine. Stay. Please. We're baking. You can help." Buck said, almost pleading. "And when the sugar rush wears off and she's down for the count, we can talk."

"Ok." Tommy nodded and took off his jacket, hanging it on the hook by the door that had practically been his the past six months. Only this time there was no Air Ops uniform jacket next to it or a duffle on the floor.

"Jee, this is my friend Tommy, he's coming to help us." Buck announced as he took another batch of cookies out of the oven.

"Is that ok?" Tommy asked Jee, looking like he was afraid of her answer.

"We're making chocolate chip cookies." the girl told him like she was explaining the mysteries of the world. "With extra chips."

"Oh. Ok. Can I help with that?"

"Tommy is very good at baking." Buck told Jee. "Maybe he'll help us make that cake we found too."

"Sure. Just tell me what to do." Tommy said and Buck saw the exact moment the mask went on again. There was a smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes and a fake cheery tone in his voice. "I'm happy to help where I can."

The three of them went to work and soon almost every available surface of the loft was covered in cooling cookies or ones ready to go into the oven.

Tommy had started to relax a little but there was still a tension to his shoulders Buck didn't like.

When he took the last batch of cookies out of the oven some time later, Jee was already out cold in the armchair and Tommy was sitting at the island with an almost perfect posture, like he was back in the army.

In the exact same place he'd sat when he'd broken both their hearts.

"So... That's the last of it." Buck wiped his hands on his apron before taking it off. "Maddie and Chim won't be back until 10... so we've got two hours."

Tommy nodded.

"Don't you want to clean up first? I can help." he offered but Buck shook his head and sat down too.

Somewhere in the back of his mind the irony of them being in the exact same place as when Tommy ended things between them did register, but he quickly pushed that thought away.

"No. Clean up can wait. I want answers." he looked Tommy in the eye. "I want to know why my boyfriend dumped me instead of telling me I was moving too fast and I freaked him out."

"I... I... I'm sorry." Tommy said eventually. "I did what I thought was best."

"For who? For me? For you? Because I haven't been doing so great these past few weeks."

"Neither have I..." Tommy admitted quietly.

"Then why did you do it? Why did you dump me?"

"I just... I'm not the last person kind of guy. People don't stay with me. I'm ok for a while... Until they get a better offer. I'm never anyone's mister right, only mister right now."

Buck frowned.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"That you're going to find someone you're going to want to settle down with and that someone is not me. And that... that hurts... but it's better to rip the band aid off now than 6 months or a year or maybe even longer if I'm lucky down the line. "

"What makes you so sure I'm going to meet someone else?"

Tommy gave him a sad smile.

"Because that's the way it always goes. It's fun for a while and then you meet the person you're meant to be with."

"What makes you think I haven't already met him?"

"Evan..."

"Don't Evan me." he took a deep breath and tried to gather his thoughts. He wanted to get this right. Make Tommy see he was serious. "I miss you." he started "You said you couldn't be my first and my last but I think you can. I want you to be. Ever since that first time you kissed me, I've felt more free and alive and... complete... than I ever have."

"Evan..." Tommy started again but Buck held up a hand to stop him.

"Just... let me get this out." he paused for a second "I'm a grown man, Tommy. I'm not some teenager with a crush who doesn't know what he wants. I've slept around plenty over the years... But I stopped doing that because it didn't make me happy. I wanted someone to come home to. Someone I could introduce to my friends and family. Someone who would listen to me talk about my day and tell me about theirs. Someone I could just be myself with. Who wouldn't get annoyed about my internet deep dives or if I had to cancel date night because I was too tired after a shift. "

"And you deserve that... And... And I hope you find that person."

"I already have." he grabbed Tommy's hands. "It's you. You know most of my friends and family, you've even already met my parents." he grinned, thinking back to Maddie and Chim's wedding day in the hospital. "You know the job, you even used to work at the same firehouse."

"That doesn't mean I'm good for you. Or good enough."

"Can I be the one to decide that?"

"I... I... what? I... of course... but..."

"Everyone keeps making decisions for me. Including you."

"I'm sorry..."

"No." Buck shook his head "I should stand up for myself more. Go after what I want."

"And what is it you want?" Tommy asked, trying not to get his hopes up.

"You." Buck said simply and leaned forward to kiss him, happy when Tommy didn't pull away or try to stop him. "I want you. All of you."

"I want that too but..."

"No buts. Whatever problem you think there is... we can work it out. I think what we have is worth fighting for, don't you?"

"I... Yes... Yeah it is..."

"But?"

"I'm kind of terrified." Tommy admitted. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. I've never been in a relationship where I fell so hard so fast... And that scared the hell out of me."

"That's ok. I can be brave for the both of us for now." Buck told him and kissed him again, just because he could. "But promise me one thing."

"Anything."

"Next time I move too fast or say something dumb that makes you freak out... talk to me instead of running away?"

Tommy took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.

"Ok. I promise."

---

Send me a prompt and I'll write you a ficlet!

(if you've sent me one recently - I have seen it and it's most likely saved in my drafts, partially written, because I keep getting distracted - but I will finish it sooner or later!)

[laurenairay]

Baking traditions - Q.Hughes

Summary: Noticing that you’re homesick, Quinn makes sure to include some of your autumn traditions.

The second of my Autumn & Halloween blurbs! How could I resist this slice of domestic life with Quinn?

Word Count: 778 words

Tagging: @fallinallincurls @starshine-hockey-girl @lam-ila @kurlyteuvo @tonyspep

@cixrosie

~

“Babe? What’s all this?”

When you’d gotten home from work that evening, you hadn’t expected your kitchen counters to be covered with ingredients.

Your boyfriend just smiled a little sheepishly, but shrugged innocently.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Quinn said simply.

“When congratulations, I’m surprised,” you mused.

Quinn just laughed, cheeks a little pink with blush as he leaned down to kiss you in greeting.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“Hey yourself,” you murmured back.

He smiled sweetly, pecking your lips in another kiss before standing upright again.

“I know you’ve been missing home…”

Well that was blunt. Quinn wasn’t wrong though. You’d moved to Vancouver to live with Quinn and take your relationship to the next level only six months ago – and while everything had been fairytale-levels of amazing, that didn’t mean there weren’t stumbling blocks. Like your homesickness, that you’d thought you’d done a good job of hiding.

“…and I just wanted to do something to cheer you up. I called your mom, and she said that you love baking in the Autumn, like all the spices and stuff are your favourite, so I thought maybe we could bake together?”

His voice trailed off in a hopeful embarrassment, but it was all you could do not to cry. This man. How were you gifted a man like this? Quinn noticed the tears in your eyes and immediately groaned.

“You hate it. This is making your homesickness even worse. I’m so dumb, I’m sorry, I-”

“Quinn, no, you’re not dumb at all. You’re the sweetest man ever. I love this idea,” you interrupted, laughing a little watery with a big smile.

The relief that spread across his face was immediate and dramatic.

“Really?” he asked.

“Really really,” you nodded, “What are we making?”

“I thought we’d try something easy? Chocolate chip pumpkin banana bread?” he said, “I found a recipe online that looked okay and I double checked with your mom too.”

So sweet.

“That sounds amazing, Quinn. Are we baking now?”

“It takes an hour to bake in the oven so I figured we could order take out now and eat dinner while we wait for the banana bread to cook?” he suggested.

Your man with a plan.

“That sounds great to me, baby, thank you. I’ll get changed out of my work clothes and we can start?”

“I’ll order dinner while you get changed,” he added, smiling.

In no time at all you were back in the kitchen in comfy sweats and an old t-shirt, take-out order being processed, while Quinn scrolled through his ipad for the recipe he saved.

“Okay, so first off, we’ve got to mash all these bananas. Shall I do that while you measure out the dry ingredients?”

You nodded, smiling up at him as you reached for a mixing bowl he’d already put on the kitchen counter. You whisked together the flour, pumpkin pie spice, cinnamon, dark chocolate chips, baking soda, baking powder & salt, and after mashing the bananas, in a separate mixing bowl Quinn whisked together the oil, sugars, eggs & vanilla extract until no lumps remained.

“That’s lump free, right?” he frowned, peering down into his bowl.

You glanced over and nodded. “Yeah that looks great baby.”

Quinn beamed back at you.

“Now we’ve just to combine the bananas into my bowl with a cup of pumpkin puree, before carefully stirring your dry ingredients mix into my bowl too,” he explained.

Somehow the two of you managed all of that without making too much mess.

“Last step is pouring it into the lined loaf cake tin and baking it for an hour. I already pre-heated the oven so we should be good to go?”

After you’d combined all the ingredients, Quinn’s face was as serious as you’d ever seen it as he carefully carried the loaf tin over to your oven, and you tried to hide your smile as you opened the oven for him.

He really cared, didn’t he? He cared so much.

“I’ll set a timer for an hour. I don’t want it to get burnt,” he frowned.

“It’s going to be amazing, I already know,” you said softly, resting a hand on his chest.

His frown softened to a sweet smile. “I just want this to be good for you.”

“The fact that we did this together is what made this good for me. The cake itself is an added bonus,” you said, smiling up at him.

A light blush spread across his cheeks and he nodded, sliding his arms around your waist to hold you closer to him.

“As long as you’re happy, I’m happy,” he said warmly.

“With you, how can I not be?”

[risuola]

MUG CAKE CRISIS — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

Every household has to face a crisis once in a while. Yours came at 2:48am and you had to sweeten your husband's way into peace again.

cw: good old fluff — 0,9k words

Every household has to face some kind of crisis once in a while. Some deal with children – the tantrums or cries that keep the parents awake and as they are forced out of their dreams and expected to face whatever it is that makes their little ones so sad, all of the monsters underneath the beds, the nightmares and fears, they simply take it head on. That’s what makes parents the heroes of their children life’s. Other people deal with partners or the opposite, the loneliness. Sometimes the walls hear things no one else shouldn’t. Arguments, screams and sounds of heated intimacy. There are different types of crises and your house is no foreign to that concept.

You woke up to the soft thuds coming from somewhere in the apartment. The whiney sounds following the, what you figured out to be, furniture noises gave you enough reason to get up from the bed. There was a crisis in your house happening right now, at 2:48am and you couldn’t just let it be, so you wrapped yourself in a blanket, too sleepy to put on clothes on your bare body, slipped into your slippers and padded to the kitchen.

The view that met your eyes was endearing in a way. Gojo Satoru, your husband and a man you love to the extent of infinity, was in the kitchen, wearing only boxers that he probably put on in a rush, because they were turned to the left side, with seams and tag on show. He was frantically ramming through every cabinet, every drawer, every little basket and bowl that could possibly hide something. There was a mess around him, boxes laying around gutted and empty, some doors half-open and most of the things on the countertop moved from their original place creating the overwhelming sense of disorder. But that was a problem for tomorrow, now you had to take care of the man-child strongest sorcerer.

“Satoru, baby,” you called him, but he was too focused on his hunt to even look at you.

“Go back to sleep, love,” he mumbled and you yawned onto the plushy fabric of your blanket. You approached him, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling your face to his bare back.

“No sweets?”, you cooed, knowing perfectly how the one and only addiction of your husband can wake him at night. Satoru doesn’t drink, he doesn’t smoke and he only occasionally takes a sip from your coffee, but one thing he’s unable to give up, is sugar. He consumes so much of it, you’re in awe that he still has all of his teeth and in great health as well, and all of his blood tests normal, because you were sure that if you were the one who ate so much caramel, chocolate and whipped cream, you’d probably be dead before your teeth start to rot.

“Can you believe it?” he whined, audibly trying to force his voice to sound soft and calm, but you knew him better than that. He was tensed, soo annoyed, his heart was beating fast as if he was slowly falling into the state of panic, and you exhaled against his skin, hand smoothing over his stomach as you pressed your lips to his spine.

“Told you we need to go get groceries yesterday.”

“You’re not helping, y/n.”

“Oh, my poor husband. Sit down, I’ll make you something, how does it sound?”

He hummed in defeat, desperate to have anything sweet and so he sat down on the chair, as you quickly combined flour, cocoa, sugar and the one almost dying banana that had been laying there for a little too long. Some milk, vanilla extract and baking powder got mixed into the batter as well, and when the concoction was ready, you put it in the microwave.

Mug cakes became your saving grace for hard times like this one, when your husband would wake up in the middle of the night craving something sweet. Some might say, he’s a grown adult, he can manage without eating chocolate in the middle of the night. Well, no. Satoru is a baby trapped inside the 6’3 tall, muscular body, and he’d definitely throw a tantrum if his needs won’t be fulfilled. There was a time he almost teared up when the realization of his stashes being empty hit him.

Over the hot, steaming cake you scooped the last bits of vanilla ice cream that hid in the back of the freezer, away from his sweet tooth because you kept it for the time your period comes and you even managed to squeeze out a little bit of toffee sauce from the lonely bottle in the fridge. Yawning once again, you presented the masterpiece to your beloved man-child, with a spoon and he gathered you to sit on his lap, making sure you are tucked tightly into the blanket.

“I love you, you know that,” he mumbled against your forehead, before pressing his lips there.

“Love you too,” you smiled and lowered your head to rest it on his shoulder, while he began devouring the dessert you made him. You felt his body relaxing as the sugar saturated his bloodstream and you relaxed too, melting against his warm form and knowing that he’s once again happy.

“’m sorry I woke you up at that hour,” he whispered, when after catering his cravings, he carried you back to the bed.

You smiled, cuddling to his chest just few moments later. Oh, how much you love that man. So much, you were okay with getting up at nearly 3 am only to make him a mug cake.

[hermitcraftheadcanons]

I was inspired by another anons hc so I present:

More baking headcanons!

Grian: can only bake bread (because, y’know, grain) but he’s very good at it. Like insanely good it’s the best piece of bread I’ve ever tasted kinda good. He can make plain bread, banana bread, raisin bread, bread with chocolate chips, basically anything you can come up with (just don’t ask him about the nether wart bread he tried to make once-he should have asked Tango to help honestly)

Iskall: the world where he was raised had oddly similar pastries to irl Sweden, and he makes them whenever he’s feeling homesick, or wants to cheer up a friend

Xisuma: uses chorus fruits in his baking, and even if they don’t teleport you anywhere, you still get a bit of a fizzy feeling in your stomach after you’ve eaten them

Etho: all of his pastries somehow have maple syrup in them, even when the recipe doesn’t call for it, and they always taste better for it (don’t ask him how he got the syrup, he just always seems to have a gigantic stash somewhere on the server)

Gem: is average at baking, but is AMAZING at decorating. She’s the go-to for all your decorating needs, whether that’s cookies or frosting cakes. (Sometimes, after she’s killed someone and taken their head, she bakes them something with their face on it, as a replacement and a thank you/apology depending on the situation)

Stress: bakes the weirdest combinations of ingredients she can find, but somehow they always taste amazing. She once baked allium and nether quartz cookies, and while no one could describe the taste exactly, they all agreed that it was a winning combination.

Scar: is much the same as stress, but his combinations don’t always turn out so well, because they just don’t work together, because scar accidentally added in an extra ingredient, or because he forgot how long he was supposed to leave them in the oven. (Once he somehow got rotten flesh into the batter for some sunflower and rose cake, but Cleo happily took it off his hands)

Scar might make the weirdest and most disgusting combinations, but somehow there's always a hermit who ends up liking the taste. Sometimes that's just him.

-Mod Mleem

[enigmasalad]

CAN THE SIDES COOK OR BAKE HEADCANNONS:

Patton: Yes and no. Patton is ultimately unpredictable in the kitchen. He makes a lot of homey food or packaged food like a stereotypical parent does. He can make a mean casserole but uh…as long as he doesn’t forget it’s in there. He can make cookies…but cakes always end up looking like a hot mess. He can make a smoothie…but he forgot to put the lid on the blender and now Logans cleaning strawberry and banana off of the ceiling.

Logan: The answer is..well…kinda. Cooking is a science and baking is an exact science. However he views anything other than crofters as just a means of sustaining the body. He rarely cooks let alone bakes. However he can make fish really well, and bread. He’s even attempted a soufflé with Janus and Patton before and after a few tries it works out. You can get him to cook if you can get him to stop working (That is until he learns about Molecular Gastronomy).

Roman: NO. Roman can’t cook besides making a sandwich. His version of baking is putting a poptart in the toaster. And you know what? That’s ok. He doesn’t want to get messy. He doesn’t understand why adding something so elegant like Truffles is wrong to put in a pancake. He’s just being creative! Let him be creative! Before you know it your spices are gone. Also the Mac n cheese is black. He forgot about it arguing with his brother.

Virgil: Yeah he can cook. Does he do it often? Meh. Does he like doing it? Depends. During his time in the dark side he’s learn to make fresh pasta sauces and how to pump up instant ramen or adding breadcrumbs to Mac n cheese. However with the light sides he’s learned how to make fresh pasta, or how to make a pretty good stir-fry. Sometimes it’s meditative for him. Other times it’s too stressful and he orders Thai food for everyone. Can he bake? NO.

Janus: Janus has gotten good at cooking and baking over the years. He’s gone from instant noodles and grilled cheese to more complex and elegant dishes (at least he thinks so). And he can actually bake! Macarons, cake, Brownies you name it! He can do it. But uh…he’s a bit of a snob about it. And you can NOT be in the kitchen with him if he’s cooking unless you’re sitting in a chair and not TOUCHING ANYTHING REMUS….or you’re gossiping with him.

Remus: Can Remus cook? No. Can he bake? No. Does he try? Yes. Is it edible? Uncertain. Why is it glowing? I don’t know. Why are there tentacles? I don’t know.