#bakery masterlist

[wizardingworldlibrary]

Bakery AU Masterlist

Links Last Checked: March 6th, 2025

An Improbable Bout of Summer Madness (ao3) - ghaniblue draco/harry E< 16k

Summary: Draco had planned a quiet, peaceful summer holiday with his son. The last thing he expected was to find Potter here, in Draco’s little Cornish retreat. Making fudge in a shop? The idea was too ludicrous for words.

Blueberry skies (ao3) - the_p_in_raspberry draco/harry T, 7k

Summary: Draco has a bakery and suddenly starts seeing a lot more of The Boy Who Lived Twice, because of a certain Hermione Granger.

Candyman (ao3) - xErised draco/harry E, 25k

Summary: Harry can’t believe it when Malfoy sets up his chocolate shop right across the street from his own bakery. He’s got to win this competition, but for some bizarre reason, his friends have become rather… chatty with the Slytherins lately. Post-Hogwarts.

Fire and Rain (ao3) - FerYerHealth draco/harry M, 78k

Summary; Draco and Harry are floundering in their lives. Neither one really knows what to do now that the war is over. Their lives didn't go according to plan. Harry hates being an Auror. Draco isn't welcome in the wizarding world and they're just trying to figure their shit out. Now they're in their late twenties and their paths keep crossing. It has to mean something, right?

Fractured Skies (ao3) - orphan_account sirius/remus M, 18k

Summary: Two worlds collide. Deaf artist Sirius Black works at his best mate's cafe. Remus Lupin is an epileptic student from France who is just looking to get by unnoticed. But the artist sees something he wants in the shy boy, and makes it his mission to see what makes Remus tick.

Of Cute Suits and Awkward Bakery Workers (ao3) - Mariella_Malfoy percy/oliver T, 27k

Summary: Oliver Wood wants to become a famous Rugby player, so he trains a lot. He also works in a bakery and on a very normal wednesday a young guy walks into the bakery. Suit-wearing, red-haired, with a lot of freckles - Oliver fells instant in love with his guy.

Of Love and Treacle Tarts (ao3) - olimakiella draco/harry M, 7k

Summary: Harry Potter, Auror. His life is set. One chance meeting during lunch at a bakery, however, changes his mind. Now, Harry Potter, Auror has got issues and though Draco is willing to wait, Harry has to wake up and figure out what he wants for his life before Draco gets sick of waiting.

Satisfy This Hungry Mess (ao3) - Konfessor2U draco/harry, hermione/ron E, 4k

Summary: Harry just had to get his hands on the cupcakes he had at the Granger/Weasley baby shower. Once at the bakery, he realizes that he has to somehow get his hands on the baker.

Sourdough (ao3) - academicdisaster draco/harry M, 17k

Summary: Draco writes romance novels and doesn’t leave his apartment much. Harry bakes bread and sells it to Draco. Draco is quite weird. Harry might like that.

Sugar and Spice (ao3) - LibraFolie pansy/percy E, 3k

Summary: Pansy Parkinson opens a bakery a few blocks away from the Ministry. Then Percy Weasley walks in.

The Bakes of Wrath (ao3) - paddypads james/lily T, 30k (WIP)

Summary: Lily Evans and James Potter are contestants on the 2015 Great British Bake Off. Lily is determined to beat James. James is determined to win. And to make good cakes. Rivalries and Twitter wars ensue.

The Boy Who Baked (ao3) - cassie_black draco/harry T, 9k

Summary: As Harry reluctantly develops a working relationship with Draco Malfoy, he finds himself becoming interested in more than just business.

The Icing on Top of the Cake (fanfiction.net) - welcometonerdworld james/lily T, 5k

Summary: Modern AU Jily/Marauders: In which there is no war, Lily is a Muggle, and the Marauders set up a bakery.

The Language of Flowers (ao3) - PotterandEvans james/lily T, 27k

Summary: Single dad James Potter thought his life would continue like every other day, until the red haired girl from his childhood appeared in the flower shop next door.

The Tip Of The Icing (ao3) - megyal draco/harry M, 32k

Summary: Harry’s successful cake/pastry career brings an old nemesis as a new client.

The Yeast I Can Do (ao3) - elanev91 james/lily

Summary: Dr Lily Evans had an absolute shit day at work. Luckily, there's a bakery nearby that offers a course that she hopes will take her mind off of things.

This Is The Best Birthday Ever (ao3) - Burning_Up_A_Sun draco/harry E, 3k

Summary: Draco is going to make the perfect cake for Harry's birthday. Isn't he?

When Hippogriffs and Pygmy Puffs Collide (ao3) - oldenuf2nb draco/harry R, 33k

Summary: Harry Potter bakes cakes, brilliantly. Draco Malfoy inks tattoos, brilliantly. Owls deliver post, including messages from clients, with an occasional lack of brilliance.

[henneseyhoe]

Sunshine

Aaron Pierre x BLACK!FEM!Reader

ORDER:Coffee (Smut) Tea (Fluff), Strawberry Cheesecake (Hair Pulling) , Jelly Filled Donut (Creampie) , Vanilla Beignet (Blind To Love) and a Brownie (Sunny vs Grumpy) served by Terry Richmond.

SUMMARY: Shitty jobs are made worth it cause pretty, funny girls exist!(ig idk chile)

The Bakery<3

✮✮✮✮

“How the hell do you deal with that?”

Was what people would ask Terry when they saw you two together. You were loud, anyone could hear your laugh from miles away and your smile radiated bright happiness that annoyed most, especially in your field of work. You were enthusiastic about nearly everything, seeing the bright side to dark situations that some just couldn’t bear. Maybe that’s why Terry held onto you the way he did. He even gave you the nickname ’Sunshine�� to show.

Everything that was listed, he indeed was not. He was not happy go lucky, he was not enthusiastic about things he had to do and he definitely wasn’t looking on the bright side, for reasons that could probably be justified.

When he was happy, it was mostly because of you. You were best friends (or he was definitely YOUR best friend) and working together in close proximity made it so much easier for Terry to get use to you. It was hard for Terry not to crack a smile when you were constantly in a good mood, bouncing off the walls. You found the spots in him that were soft and poked at them until he gave in, you learned his humor and kept him laughing when he didn’t want to.

He couldn’t lie, he was growing accustomed to being with you, he could even say he loved having you around (he would probably never say that out loud) . He just couldn’t help but feel a little warmth in his chest when you were near, butterflies in his stomach when you made eye contact with him. Little did he know, you felt the same.

Your heart beat down on your rib cage faster than it was on your first mission. You loved a challenge, and Terry was exactly that, testing your abilities to be professional, dangerous, light on your feet, but also keeping your brand of being the happy person you were.

Whenever Terry came into work, even if it was just to train, you were up in his face cracking jokes like you hadn’t just ran two miles. Of course because he was a rank higher than you, he use to send you on about your way the first few times, a little annoyed with your presence and attitude until realizing he couldn’t get rid of you even if he tried. You were everywhere and the crew was slowly growing a liking to you too.

You were like a leech, as he would describe. A cuddly and cute one, but a leech nonetheless.

Coming up on the date of the official homecoming for soldiers, it was time to head back to your respective states and you offered Terry a day to spend with just the two of you, enjoying the scenery of downtown and all it had to offer..as friends, Which he accepted after a huff (which was obviously faked, his ass was happy you asked) . Somehow, Terry found himself not wanting to leave when night had came. Something he had NEVER felt before, and he hated it. He hated that he knew it was because of you too, nothing else. Hell, he didn’t even like the state he was in, he was ready to go when he landed.

Babysitting a beer in your hand, you two sit close around the fireplace of your apartment, or what was yours till tomorrow.

“Feel like we been here forever” He breaks the silence, sipping on his drink while staring at the flicker of the fire in front of you both.

You shrug.

“It kinda has been? Seven months, two weeks, five days, and 21 hours is a long time!” You nod, Terry giving you a look before stifling out the chuckle he tried so hard not to free. You smile, satisfied at how easy it was to make him laugh now.

“So!…You ready to go home to the missus?”

Terry raises a brow, swallowing the bitter drink in his mouth. “Missus?”

You hum, waiting for an answer, but he never confirmed.

“Yeah. I mean, you never said anything about a wife or a kid, but I just assumed-“

“Never said because I don’t have” He interrupts, laughing. He couldn’t even imagine what about him gave husband. He didn’t wear a ring, on the right finger at least, and he thought the flirting he did confirmed him to be single already..Or what he thought was flirting. The making sure you ate and drank every day and teasing about how many push ups you could do didn’t really connect the dots for you. You were looking for a more forward approach considering he was a blunt man.

“What the hell about me made you think I was married with a kid?”

You laugh along with him to save yourself the embarrassment. Truthfully, you asked on purpose to see if he was single or not. To your surprise, no one had snatched him up yet.

“I-…I don’t know. I just see a nigga like you and just expect it” You respond, the palms of your hands already sweating. Your body was once again defying you, you felt like you were in highschool again.

Terry’s laugh shrunk until it was no more and his eyebrows rose at your statement. “A nigga like me?”

“…Yeah. Ya know…” You trail off, shyly looking away. By now regret had already set in your stomach for bringing up shit and snooping in his business. It would have been easier to search his name in the database and read his files, keeping your stalker shit on the low.

“Hm…Elaborate, sunshine. I wanna know what that mean” He presses, his squinted eyes searching for yours, but you refused to give in and see what may have been rejection.

“Look” You huff, shaking your head. “I just mean…You are a very handsome man, and I expected you to be…spoken for? Can you even say spoken for when talking about a man?”

You both laugh, but tension was still thick in the air, you just didn’t know what kind of tension it would turn to. Whether sexual or awkward tension, your nerves were getting worse by the second.

Terry on the other hand seemed cool as a cucumber, his tongue subtly tracing the rim of his beer bottle as he thought to himself before taking his last drink, finishing the beverage off.

“I don’t think so, but still. I appreciate that…so”

“So…”

He tilts his head. You could see it all from your peripheral view. His strong presence demanded attention from you. It was like that while working and it happened to never change outside of it.

“You aren’t spoken for?” He asks, his shoulder softly bumping yours to pull an answer quicker.

You shake your head, simultaneously setting down your bottle.

“Not since a year ago. Maybe if it was possible to pack a niggas dick with you when you leave for work, it wouldn’t be inside your bestfriend, right?”

“…You shittin��� me?” He leans, almost shocked that anyone would dare to cheat on you. Not only because of the person you were on the inside, but also because you could be classified as a high threat even while ass naked. That’s just the type of woman he wouldn’t cross, even at his rank.

“Nope, deadass”

“Damn..” He mumbles. “Whatever nigga out here silly enough to let little miss sunshine walk the earth without being right behind her need his ass beat. Shit, i’ll do it for you actually”

You giggle. “You’re silly”

“Nah, I’m serious”

Who knew that conversation alone would end with you getting ate out by someone you considered a friend, someone who you looked up to just a little, someone who just admitted he’d fuck somebody up for you…maybe giving it up was justifiable.

On the couch with your legs spread to each side, you forced yourself to open your eyes and bask in reality as Terry began the journey of taking you apart and putting you back together again. He placed soft kisses around your lips and on your clit before he licked long strings from your entrance, then sucked, earning a soft gasp from you.

His hands gripped your thick thighs while holding them apart, his strength not allowing you to hide from him at all. He wanted to taste all you had to offer, his tongue doing all the hard work slithering inside of your warm walls as his nose nudged your clit. You tensed up with every nudge, watching as he freely put his face in it. He made it messy enough to admire when he pulled his mouth off of you, your pussy glistening like he just doused you in oil.

“Look at that, mmm” There was a grumble that came deep from within his throat. His green eyes on you made it so hard not to be bothered even with him not doing anything, your poor clit jumping with excitement as he spread your lips open.

“She happy to see me, huh?”

You moan and nod eagerly, bringing your hand to your mouth to suck on a finger. Terry smiles at that, sharp teeth flashing from under his lips. He just wanted to bite you all over.

“Yeah, I know. When the last time you had some?”

“I-I don’t remember” And you truly couldn’t. Nothing worth remembering.

“Yeah? Imma make sure you remember this shit” He ends off with a bite to your thigh, almost as if he was warning you for what’s to come before he dove back into your heat, slurping up your soaked clit. Your belly was doing summersaults, you could barely contain your volume. It seemed Terry didn’t care about his.

When he ate, he made noise. He moaned, grunted, groaned. He was having just as much fun as you.

Your legs had began to shake the longer he was down there, your hands gripping onto the top of his white tank since that was all you had to hold on to after he practically ripped your oversized shirt off of you beforehand, and you feared ruining the couch if you got to pulling on it.

“Yes, yes, yes! I’m so close” You struggled to keep your eyes on him even with his staring back up at you, low lidded and dark. They beckoned you to stay, but pleasure had came rolling through like natural disaster and wiped all thought from your brain, leaving you a shaking, blubbering mess.

His mouth pulled off of you and his hand moved in place of it, rubbing your clit in tight circles.

“Feel it, baby. Let it happen” He coos as you fight against his hand, thighs closing around his wrist which he just smacked away and kept at it until he felt he was done.

“Stop moving, let that shit happen, baby”

You felt like you were literally about to float to heaven, back arching up off of the couch just to get away from the overstimulation.

“Okay! Fuck!”

He moves his hand and allows you to go through the motions, twitching until that special feeling left your center. “Good job, pretty girl” A kiss from him was placed beside your opened mouth as heavy breathing left you.

He gave you time to recover while undressing himself, items of clothing fluttering to the ground until he was in nothing but his shorts.

Your eyes never left his length as it bobbed out of the bottoms. You hadn’t even noticed there was nothing under the shorts till now..So all of that print you were eyeing was all him. He was nothing little, nothing that you had ever seen before and it almost made you ask if that was all of it, hoping he had added something extra, if possible. You wanted to taste him, to lick up the dribbling precum from his tip and test if you could take him in your mouth first, but Terry desperately wanted to be inside you. You protested, pulling him in and stroking his shaft to solicit him into going your way, but he was stern, nearly completely ignoring your advances and lifting you to your feet.

You yelped, legs wobbly from your first orgasm, but you had no need to worry about falling because you were lifted off of your feet as fast as you got on them.

“D-don’t drop me!”

You begged, holding onto him while he bounced you to catch you in the right position to fuck you good, your legs swinging over his arms and his hands cupping your soft ass.

“I gotchu, baby”

He reassured as he kisses your lips. You could smell and taste yourself all on him, slightly sweet and herbal from the beer. All while sucking on his tongue, you felt the tip of him swipe against your entrance, your heart beating so hard in your chest that you were convinced he could hear it, and it was the same for him. He couldn’t wait to feel you, to be connected in other ways than just conversation and friendship. He longed to know what it would be like, and when he got a taste, there was no turning back from then on. Not that he would want to, anyway.

There was no way you were getting away from him. You were strong, but Terry was strong. The man trained relentlessly and always being on his toes payed off at work and apparently in the bedroom too.

Your thighs ached with a burning sensation as he bounced you on his long dick effortlessly, the tip of him kissing your cervix ever so slightly, but he knew good enough not to hit it dead on, fearing hurting you in the process. You appreciate the thoughtfulness, seeing as you were already losing the part of your brain that made thought out decisions.

“So fucking deep!”

You cried out weakly, nails scratching down his broad shoulders, creating red streaks he’d try to hide with a long sleeve the morning after, the feeling of you still dancing on his tongue as he got dressed. He grunts, palms squeezing the fat of your ass as his pace never seemed to falter. He was determined to get you there. To feel you cum around his dick so hard that the neighbors would wonder if you were hurt, that they would think about calling the cops just to check on you.

“Cmon, baby. You a big girl, take this dick like I know you can” He encouraged you sweetly, voice unshaken and stable as if the ribbon of release in the pit of his stomach wasn’t threatening to come undone, spilling his seed deep inside of you.

It wasn’t long until he decided to change the position and lay you on your stomach instead, a soft pillow placed underneath your hips to make sure you could meet his height and your ass stayed up right for him. Before he entered back into your warmth, he took his time to spread your cheeks and licking up whatever your pussy had started to drip, earning whiny, pathetic mewls from you.

He licked from your clit to the winking rim of your asshole, the tip of his tongue circling around it before going back down to your sensitive bud, teasingly suckling on it softly.

You drooled into your sheets. You knew you looked so damn stupid right now, but you couldn’t help it with how he was turning you every way but loose.

“Taste so fucking good”

He says from behind you, fully standing now with a hand in your silk press and the other laid directly in the middle of your back to help that arch. He didn’t even have to guide his dick into you, you were so wet and open for him already that all he did was wind his hips back to line up with you and push forward.

You could swear your breath was being sucked out of your lungs with each inch he dropped into you. It felt so good that you could almost ignore him pulling on your hair, forcing your head back to meet him for a slow, nasty kiss.

“Fuck- My hair, Terry!” You whined against his plump lips, one of your hands reaching for his wrist, but the tugging only made it worse for you. The sharp stinging in your scalp oddly satisfied something within you, your clit twitching at the newfound feeling.

“Fuck it. I’ll pay for it” He grunts, his teeth tugging at the bottom of your lip.

You both kissed with teeth and all as he fucked you, your ass loudly clapping back on his toned body with every thrust. He felt every motion of it, the waves clashing with his hips so mesmerizing that he couldn’t help but wanna stare.

As he pulled away from your lips, he opted to grab a hold of your throat instead, your moans immediately getting caught.

He made sure to grab you by the part where it was safe to hold, safe enough to where you could still breathe a little, but still got the sensation to feel held.

“Why-“ You managed to choke out, yet you couldn’t finish a sentence.

He cracked an almost cocky smile then moaned out a curse, his dick violently throbbing inside of you and reaching beyond what you thought was gonna be his limit.

“Why what? Spit it out, ma” He teased, his low cut nails almost scratching up the side of your throat when his thrusts got more fluid, the man putting way more wine into every collision.

You began to cry out, him muffling them slightly by letting go of you and pushing your head down into the bed. He only fucked you harder when your arch fell with your hips, your legs giving out as your pussy cried right along with you.

This position had you feeling everything. From the tip of him grazing your gspot to the veins that traveled up his dick and massaged your walls, giving you texture that you never felt before.

Him demanding a word out of you was like speaking to a brick wall. You had already came without warning, now you were just wetting up the sheets with incoherent words spilling from your mouth. He imagined you fucked out under him like this plenty of times before but he never knew it’d feel and look this good.

“Shit! Keep doing that and imma cum” He warns, but that’s exactly what you wanted. You wanted to feel him fill you up to the point you were leaking. You began purposely clenching around him, the first squeeze prompting him to lay a smack on your ass, and the second one making his hips stutter against you. He could feel himself becoming lighter, a swirl of heat blooming in the bottom of his stomach.

“Nut in this pussy, baby. Let me feel it, please” You begged hopelessly, doing your best to keep a good hold on his dick until he released with a loud groan, grinding his hips into your ass. You could feel each and every spurt of his cum being released inside you, warmth and fullness is what laid in the bottom of your belly.

“Mmm, fuck” His hips bucked one last time before he was pulling out with a grunt, large hands gripped on your ass and spreading you apart to see what he had done to you.

“So pretty. Push it out” He demanded, and you abided by it, pushing his cum out of you until you no longer felt full.

✮✮✮✮

💌- I’m criiine, this was supposed to be a headcannon too- LMFAOAOA. and yall wonder why i take so long, lawd. i told yall, i cannot do shit right smh. Anyway! i hope you liked this, homegirl 😭 i also managed to get this out before my first college class so hallelujah! *does ring shout*. also this was the longest smut i wrote in a whiiile lmfao. a whole 3k+ words so yaaay! eb clap for henny and wish her luck on this class 😋

[dollywons]

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𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 (𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 (𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐋𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 (𝐘𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐚 (𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 (𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐞 (𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐁𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦 (𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 (𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 (𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 (𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎

𝐌𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐬:

𝐂𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 (𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐤 + 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬) 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 (𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐤 + 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬) 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞 (𝐑𝐞𝐝 + 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬) 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐚 (𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐤 + 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬) 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 (𝐑𝐞𝐝 + 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧/𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬) 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐰 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐭 (𝐌𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬) 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 + 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 + 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 (𝐍𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬)

Frames:

𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝!)

𝐀𝐥𝐥: #frames by dollywons

𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐬:

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 (𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 (𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐋𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 (𝐘𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐚 (𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 (𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐞 (𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐁𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦 (𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 (𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 (𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 (𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬) ♡︎

Banners:

𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐬: “𝐖��𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐠“, "𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞", "𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬" ♡︎

𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝!)

𝐀𝐥𝐥: #banners by dollywons

𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐬:

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 (𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 (𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐋𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 (𝐘𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐚 (𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 (𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐞 (𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐁𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦 (𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 (𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 (𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎ 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 (𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬) ♡︎

Templates:

𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐬: 𝐓𝐨-𝐃𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬, 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 ♡︎

𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝!

𝐀𝐥𝐥: #𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐬

Graphics:

𝐀𝐧𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐞! :> 𝐈 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 (and mostly procreate now) 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 :)

𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝!

𝐀𝐥𝐥: #𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐬 ౨ৎ

[bunny-jpeg]

bunny's bakery orders - masterlist

updated: 08-17-24

hey, this is an attempt to make a masterlist of my works, i'm starting with my bakery series (since it is a smaller body of work)! these will be updated as more requests get filled! please note that all the works are smutty in content, so please read warnings and tags!

if you love these orders, feel free to read the submission post and order your own! i love the ones i've received so far and i can't wait to work on them! so please, submit all you want!

order up!

❀ call of duty ❀

phillip graves: berry trifle ("wrong. try again.") + champagne (sugar daddy situation)

simon 'ghost' riley: chocolate chip cookies ("you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat") + bubble tea (daddy kink)

könig: croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + crepe ("pretty girl.") + mille-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + champagne (sugar daddy)

john price: mille-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + mocha coffee (breeding kink)

simon 'ghost' riley: s'more ("The accent gets to you, doesn't it?") + chocolate milk (tenderness) + champagne (sugar daddy au)

john price: s'mores ("The accent gets to you, doesn't it?") + milkshakes (size kink)

simon 'ghost' riley: pound cake with strawberries ("you know i hate going over rules, but just because i like seeing you embarrassed, i'll tell you them again.") + bubble tea (daddy kink)

❀ formula one ❀

max verstappen: mill-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + vodka shot (rough sex)

max verstappen: banana bread ("i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name.") + croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour)

lando norris: vanilla cheesecake ("where are your manners?") + tea (semi-public/public sex)

lando norris: mille-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour)

lando norris: carrot cake ("swallow it. all of it.") + chocolate chip cookie ("you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat") + custard tarts ("i've never done this before.") + mocha coffee (breeding kink) + espresso shot (dirty talking)

carlos sainz jr: banana bread ("i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name.") + nanaimo bars ("who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it.") + coffee (rivals) + vodka shot (rough sex)

fernando alonso: blueberry muffin ("i don't think it'll fit.") + mocha coffee (breeding kink)

carlos sainz jr: mille-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + coffee (rivals) + shot of vodka (rough sex)

oscar piastri: berry trifle ('wrong, try again') + coffee (rivals)

lando norris: blueberry muffins ("i don't think it'll fit.") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour)

max verstappen: apple pie ("now be good and beg. thank you.") + coffee (rivals au) + on the house/vanilla cheesecake ("where are your manners?")

lestappen: butter tart ("let's ruin ourselves for anyone else.") + coffee (rivals au) + on the house (aftercare

lewis hamilton: lemon slice ("i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.") + coffee (rivals)

lando norris: butter tart ("let's ruin ourselves for anyone else.") + milkshake (size kink)

max verstappen: nanaimo bar ("who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it.") + tiramisu (“my little slut to ruin.”) + bubble tea (daddy kink)

max verstappen: scones ("but what if they see us!") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour)

carlos sainz jr: sourdough bread ("i'm going to breed you.") + mocha coffee (breeding kink) + pine colada (pregnancy) + hard lemonade (possessive behavior)

toto wolff: chocolate cake ("do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day.") + champagne (sugar daddy au)

max verstappen: sourdough bread ("i'm going to breed you.") + coffee (rivals au)

daniel ricciardo: chocolate cake ("do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day.") + pina colada (pregnancy)

lewis hamilton: croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + root beer (filming/recording) + on the house (choice:size kink)

max verstappen: profiteroles: ("come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go.") + champagne (sugar daddy au)

alex albon: mille-feuille ("that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.") + tiramisu ("my little slut to ruin.") + coffee (rivals) + glass of water (aftercare)

oscar piastri: crepe ("pretty girl") + mocha coffee (breeding kink)

max verstappen: profiteroles ("come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go.") + honey cruller ("i forget how small you are sometimes.") + hard lemonade (possessive behavior)

lance stroll: lemon slice ("i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.") + coffee (rivals au)

max verstappen: banana bread ("i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name.") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour)

carlos sainz jr: carrot cake ("swallow it. all of it.") + tiramisu (“my little slut to ruin.”) + shot of vodka (rough sex)

lando norris: tiramisu ("my little slut to ruin") + champagne (sugar daddy au)

logan sargeant: banana and chocolate muffins ("i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them.") + on the house (choice: mafia au)

max verstappen: french toast ("you're trying to make me jealous!") + vodka (rough sex) + martini (mafia au)

lewis hamilton: chocolate cake ("do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day.") + s'mores ("The accent gets to you, doesn't it?) + on the house: champagne (sugar daddy au)

max verstappen: lemon slice ("i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.) + root beer (filming/recording) + iced tea (accidentally launching relationship)

lewis hamilton: blueberry muffins ("i don't think it'll fit.") + crepe ("pretty girl.") + on the house: juice (cockwarming)

lando norris: brownies ("you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours.") + martini (mafia au)

lando norris: sourdough bread ("i'm going to breed you.") + martini (mafia au)

carlos sainz jr: chocolate cake ("do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day.") + honey cruller ("i forget how small you are sometimes.") + espresso shot (dirty talking)

kimi rakkionen: berry trifle ("wrong. try again.") + s'more ("the accent gets to you. doesn't it?") + root beer (filming/recording)

max verstappen: cinnamon rolls ("no one needs to know.") + tea (semi-public sex) + coffee (rivals au)

jenson button: chocolate cake ("do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day.") + whisky (degrading language)

oscar piastri: milkshake (size kink)

max verstappen: scones ("but what if they see us!) + juice (cockwarming)

toto wolff: banana and chocolate muffins ("i'm only doing this because you need to learn how to behave, rules are rules, and you need to follow them.") + whisky (degrading language)

charles leclerc: profiteroles ("come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go.") + martini (mafia au) + juice (cockwarming)

lewis hamilton: churros ("if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full. okay?") + martini (mafia au) + glass of water (aftercare)

toto wolff: croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + banana bread ("i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name.") + vodka shot (rough sex)

daniel ricciardo: blueberry muffin ("i don't think it'll fit.") + espresso shot (dirty talking) + vodka shot (rough sex)

oscar piastri: blueberry muffin ("i don't think it'll fit.") + milkshake (size kink)

max verstappen: vanilla cheesecake ("where are your manners?") + champagne (sugar daddy au) + root beer (filming/recording)

max verstappen: nanaimo bars ("who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it.") + martini (mafia au) + glass of water (aftercare)

carlos sainz jr: chocolate chip cookie ("you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat") + root beer (filming/recording)

toto wolff: vanilla cheesecake ("where are your manners?") + berry trifle ("wrong. try again.") + bubble tea (daddy kink) + milkshake (size kink)

fernando alonso: croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + mocha coffee (breeding kink) + champagne (sugar daddy au)

charles leclerc: chocolate cake ("do you feel that? that's what happens when i think about you all day.") + berry trifle ("wrong. try again.") + on the house: coconut water (alternate universe - university au)

[m0chisenpai]

the goodies જ⁀➴๋࣭

I write for the black fem readers typically, my requests are usually always open but check the pinned post and my bio for any updates!

Any series I have started I put chapters out here, but my LONG fics are over on my wattpad. I am in the process of moving things over onto AO3

⋆˚࿔ interview with the vampire 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

fascinating -

midnight snack

superstitious

the hunt

seal the cracks

accessorize

vogue

off the record journalist reader x loumand mini series

off the record

desires of the heart

more coming soon...

maitress - armand x reader

maitress

part two coming soon

⋆˚࿔ Avatar 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

all is calm

goldilocks

new daughter of mine (pt 2 to goldilocks)

my eywa

just around the riverbend

new edition - neytiri, jake x pregnant!reader

somethings off / why so blue / baby mine

⋆˚࿔ FNAF 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

between the pages - mike schmidt x librarian!reader mini series

sprung

strike

⋆˚࿔ Spiderman: Into/Across the Spiderverse 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

back in black

part of your world

let's play a little game

Far Out - 42!miles morales x reader mini series

part one / part two

femme fatale

p.y.t

⋆˚࿔ The lost boys 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

sun up

sweet temptation

I want to watch

⋆˚࿔ Game of Thrones 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Hong Kong Garden - oberyn martell, ellaria sand x marie antoinete!reader

but you are mine

grandmother knew best

paper faces

⋆˚࿔ Stranger Things 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

flower power

⋆˚࿔ Sandman 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Hello little dream

why does my heart cry

[mikeykuns]

Hello‼️ 🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️ I return with yet another request and this time I wish to request pastry themed dividers (cupcakes etc etc) and a yellow masterlist divider (it's my favourite colour). Please⁉️⁉️🗣🗣🗣

like/reblog if you save - no credit needed !

[lyneylover]

❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀𝓐𝓴𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓼 2023 𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀

I'm excited to finally be doing this event for everyone who likes my writing! Since this is my first time doing this I'm still trying to get the hang of everything but how this will go is simple each day for 31 days I'll post a smut with a different thing as the topic I'll try and make each story between at LEAST 500 - 1k words if i can but i hope everyone enjoys the bakery's first Kinktober!

☆ *.☽ .*☆ﾟ☆ *.☽ .*☆ﾟ☆ *.☽ .*☆ﾟ☆ *.☽ .*☆ﾟ☆ *.☽ .*☆ﾟ

Day 1: Sub!Gorou x Dom!Reader (Edging)

Day 2: Floyd x Reader x Jade (Bondage)

Day 3: Belphie x Reader (Somnophilia)

Day 4: Beel x Reader (Sitophilia)

Day 5: Tengen x Reader (Spanking)

Day 6: Tighnari x Reader (Aphrodisiac)

Day 7: Aiku Oliver x Reader (Oral)

Day 8: wriothesley x Reader (Blowjob)

Day 9: Riddle x Reader (Mommy kink)

Day 10: Bachira x Reader (Nipple play)

Day 11: Kurona x Reader (Biting)

Day 12: Hiori x Reader (Cockwarming)

Day 13: Ness x Reader (Pet Play)

Day 14: Jealous!Lucy x Fem!Reader (Fingering)

Day 15: Playboy!Tomo x Reader x Playboy!niwa (Threesome + college au)

Day 16: Kaiser x Reader (Hair pulling)

Day 17: Simeon x Innocent!Reader x Solomon (Corruption Kink)

Day 18: Barbartos x Maid!Reader (Auralism)

Day 19: Nilou x Fem!Reader (Strap On)

Day 20: Lyney x Idol!Reader (Praise kink)

Day 21: Lynette x Fem!Reader (Face Sitting)

Day 22: Obanai x Reader(dacryphilia)

Day 23: Satan x Reader (Choking)

Day 24: Douma x Reader x Akaza (Double penetration)

Day 25: Sub!Mitsuri x Dom!Fem!Reader (Thigh Riding)

Day 26: Nagi x Reader (Size Kink)

Day 27: Giyuu x Reader (Thigh job)

Day 28: Levi x Reader (Degradation)

Day 29: Karaku x Virgin! Demon slayer! Reader x Urogi (CNC Kink)

Day 30: Leona x Fox!Brat!Reader (Brat taming)

Day 31: Chenya x Mouse!Reader x Deer!Neige (Breeding Kink)

☆ *.☽ .*☆ﾟ☆ *.☽ .*☆ﾟ☆ *.☽ .*☆ﾟ☆ *.☽ .☆

All characters are 18+ in these stories. Everyday at a certain time I'll try and post one of the stories. I really hope everyone enjoys the first Kinktober on this page! Happy Kinktober everyone<3

[souljakitty]

menu

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ this list will be updated with specific character names once i start writing !

ㅤꨄ︎ jujutsu kaisen

ㅤꨄ︎ my hero academia

ㅤꨄ︎ bungo stray dogs

ㅤꨄ︎ tokyo revengers

ꨄ︎ blue lock

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ i will also consider writing for haikyuu, attack on titan, windbreakers

[leftdestiny-posts]

➺ MENU MECHANIC:

Customers can ask for items that aren't on the menu. Once the order has been sent, DOTT will enter the kitchen to bake. During this process, customers will unlock a new MEMORY. * Unlock memories to find out what happened in the bakery.

i. ⭑ a good & bad cupcake ii. ⭑ mochi's mochi iii. ⭑ friend-shaped cookies iv. ⭑ a single glazed donut v. ⭑ macaroons of the past

[pardi-real]

Holy cow.

TIL the word for how a word or a name is pronounced is written as "pronunciation". I really thought it was "pronounciation".

Pro-Nun. Well I love Arknights Specter.

That reminds me some years ago I was absolutely bamboozled by "similar" & "available", I thought those were written as "similiar" & "avaible" .

My life is a lie.. all this from being curious on how to pronounce "Berrien County Jail".

[sweeteabakery]

WELCOME TO SWEETEA'S BAKERY ♡!

Don't be shy, place an order!

˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—

MENU

♡ MHA

♡ JJK

♡ JBA

♡ DELICIOUS DUNGEON

+ MORE COMING SOON! ☆

♡ SMUT

♡ ANGST

♡ FLUFF

This bakey does NOT sell anything with:

♡ INCEST

♡ NON-CON, DUB-CON & CNC

♡ SCAT

♡ WATERSPORTS

♡ VOMIT

♡ SEXUAL ACTS AGAINST UNDERAGE CHARACTERS.

This bakery serves everyone!

♡ GENDERNEUTRAL

♡ TRANS

♡ MALE

♡ FEMALE

♡ DOM

♡ SUB

♡ SWITCH

♡ CHUBBY

♡ FIT

♡ SLIM

♡ SKINNY

AND ANYTHING ELSE YOU WISH IN YOUR ORDER!

This bakery is open everyday!

Weekdays

4pm - 10 pm

Weekends + Holidays

11 am - 9 pm

˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—

reblog and interact, as it helps others find me!

THANK YOU FOR VISITING SWEETEA'S BAKERY!

[peachesofteal]

Raspberry Girl Part One + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader CW: 18+ mdni, sexual content, dacryphilia, daddy kink. Reader is neurodivergent.

Simon Riley is a simple man. 

Now. 

Cobwebs cleared, shattered shards of glass painstakingly swept away, lacerations stitched and glued back together. He's climbed the mountain of his mind and descended down the other side. Hurdles jumped, skeletons dragged into the light and then cut down. 

Guess that's what happens when you finally decide you want to live, instead of exist. 

At least he figured it out before he died. 

He's old now, older, signature sore back and creaky knees worse then they were ten years ago, sciatica pain when it rains, headaches whenever he's spent too long looking at paperwork (should be wearing his glasses, but can only bring himself to do it at home.) He's even soft around the middle a bit. 

Still, there are some things that never change, some things that are amplified by time. Skill, focus, dedication. Thirst. 

The thirst is what keeps everyone in line, keeps everyone's head down after a salute, eyes shifty and hands clenched. He still strikes fear. He doesn't mind. 

It's how he got here. How he ended up standing in front of a team, his team, tackling a debrief. It's only given him more of what he know nows he craves, the aspect of control that was so long missing from his life, taken from him by others, by their actions, their decisions. Now he has it in spades. He learned to indulge it, practice it, hone it, and when it reared its head in other aspects of his life, he didn't shy away. He embraced it, experimented with it, figured out what he liked, what he didn't, what he truly needed. Chewed on it, for a while. 

A casual fuck here and there, fine, but not enough, not nearly. 

He's built a house after all. 

It's all spilled over though. Run away from him and out of the base, infiltrated his home, crawled across town- 

and set it's sights on something it can sink it's teeth into. Something it won't let go of. 

Daddy's girl. 

"C-captain Riley." Your hands press to your stomach, anxiously wiping away smatterings of batter and flour, and he tries to screw his mouth into a flat line to hide his smile at the hitch in your breath. 

"Hi sweetheart." 

"What can I... what can I get for you?" He sweeps over the case, eyeing the piled high pastries and bagels, muffins and quiches still warm. 

"Just a coffee today." You nod, lip tugged between your teeth, hand practically shaking as you reach for the stack of cups. When he was a younger man, he wouldn't have patience for this, or you. Wouldn't see the bright side to this, these moments he shares with his girl at the bakery, his nervous little fawn he's finally coaxed to look him in the eye for more than ten seconds at a time. Being in your forties will do that to you, he guesses. 

Time heals more than he ever thought possible. 

"Black?" 

"That's right." He indulges himself as you turn around, tracing your curves, the swell of your ass in your leggings. You wear an apron at your waist religiously, cinching it tight, hips and thighs and everything else perfectly framed. He loves those leggings, and hates them every time he catches an overzealous prick leering at you over the counter. 

"Do you um, do you want room for cream?"  The answer is always the same, but you still ask, and he doesn't mind. 

"No, I'll just take it as is." He eyes the pan of raspberry sweet rolls sitting on the counter, cream cheese icing slowly melting across the top. They're his favorite, but he's putting on too much weight, and with the next mission around the corner, he can't afford to be too soft. You look up at him shyly, gesturing to the giant buns. 

"I made your favorite." Fuck. He can't. He shouldn't... but he can't stomach the idea of dimming your glow, killing you excitement, the eager look on your face as you wait for his approval. 

"Y'know what... the boys are always complaining I never bring them anything. I'll take the whole pan." Your eyes turn to saucers. 

"The wh-whole pan? Really?" You brighten into a sun, glowing with pride, and he rewards you with a smile. 

"Is that okay?" 

"Of course!" You blurt, half panicked, "of course I just... okay. Let me-" You go to put the coffee cup down in front of him, but the bottom nicks the edge of the counter and like everything has turned to slow motion, he watches as steaming hot liquid comes flying from the top, half splashing, half spilling all over his uniform. He catches it before it rolls off the end, but the damage has been done, and tears line your lashes. 

The woman waiting in line a few feet behind him snorts. His vision turns red and he whirls on her with a glare, satisfied when the color drains from her face and she runs off. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so s-so-sorry,” you’ve come around the corner with paper towels, trembling like a leaf as you stare at the stain on his jacket, wide eyed and frantic. 

“It’s okay, it was an accident.” 

“N-no, your uniform,” you croak horrified, “I ruined it, I’m so sorry.” You hiccup a little, trying to suck in some air while you succumb to panic, and he takes your hands in his, squeezing gently, trying to ground you. 

“It’s alright baby, it’s okay,” you don’t even notice when he calls you baby, too preoccupied by your rapidly dissipating oxygen. “Hey, look at me,” he soothes, ducking into your line of sight, grabbing your attention. “Good girl, you’re alright.” 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, shrinking in on yourself, curling your shoulders forward. More tears, and the sight of them sends blood rushing through his body, uncomfortable pressure starting to build in his cock. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry about.” The shop is mostly empty, the woman behind him gone, and he takes the opportunity to usher you past the counter and into the kitchen where there’s a stool waiting just inside the door. He guides you up and holds steady. “Everything’s okay, I promise.” The paper towels come free from your tension filled grip, and instead of using them on the stain, he presses them to your wet cheeks, blotting away your tears. You lean into the touch, so trusting, so easily his, and he wonders what else you’d let him do. He’s hard against the teeth of his zipper as he thinks about hoisting you onto the table, spreading your legs to find what you’ve been keeping safe for him there. 

He doesn’t have many things to care for these days, outside the team, his ultimate responsibility. Keeping a special ops unit alive, planning and executing, cutting through political bullshit is more than enough, but it’s all rough and heavy handed. 

He needs something to nurture. 

You blink at him as he finishes and tips your chin back, ignoring the way your lips part in awe. “That’s better.” 

“Thank you.” The two of you breathe in tandem, silenced and walking a tightrope until you cough. “I should uh… I should go, get those rolls packaged?” He nods, and you manage a very small smile before dipping your gaze to the ground and running off to the front. 

“When did you know?” He rolls the cigar smoke around in his mouth and John cocks his head. 

“When did I know what?” 

“That you were ready,” he gestures to the house, where John’s wife Grace sleeps soundly, “for this? For her?” There’s a glint in his Captain’s blue eyes, a knowing smirk on his face. 

“I just did. At some point, life becomes more than the job, but the mission stays the same. Lead, decide, control. Keep them safe, complete your objective, give what’s needed, get it for yourself. It’s no different.” The idea is tar, sticking to every surface in his mind, gumming up his synapses and creating hallucinations so intoxicating they’re hard to believe. 

You, curled up in bed asleep with nothing but a pair of panties, or cradled between his knees in the bath as he works a chunk of batter free from your hair. You with your legs spread, knees pushed towards your ears, pussy ripe and waiting for him, only him, for the rest of his life. Hands and ankles tied together like a pretty little present. You, sitting on the couch with your thighs slung over his lap, nose creased with a little wrinkle as you thumb through a book. 

John chuckles. “Found one then?” 

Simon only nods. 

He slips through the door just before closing, little bell at the top announcing his arrival to an almost empty space. There’s someone at the register, counting cash, and she smiles at him with all her teeth. 

“We’re about to close but there are a few things left, or I could make you a tea?” The case is pretty barren, a few bear claws and croissants, a muffin or two. Stragglers. 

Next to it, a bouquet sits in a vase. They’re fresh, healthy, and the hair on the back of his neck stands. 

If someone is buying you flowers, he’ll kill them. Dump their corpse in a pit and piss on it. 

The girl clears her throat, and he shakes his head. “No, but thanks. ‘M here to see…” you push through the kitchen doors with two metal sheet trays in your hands, and freeze.

He knew you’d be surprised, caught off guard. It’s like catching a feral cat. Trying to earn a street dog’s trust. Like he’s crouched on the sidewalk, hand extended, food waiting in his fingertips. 

A fisherman, with bait on the line, patiently waiting to hook his prize. 

The incident last week has thoroughly spooked you, pushed you back inside your shell, eroded a lot of the groundwork he painstakingly laid, the foundation he’s been building, and the only time he’s been in since then, you ran into the kitchen as soon as he crossed the threshold. 

The clock has turned back to the time when you were so gun shy, you’d turn to stone at the first sight of him, hands clasped together so tight he knew they hurt. 

It’s no matter. He’s a patient man now, a far cry from who he used to be, and he’s willing to wait for the things worth it, willing to put in the work to fix it.

His body disagrees. A river of need runs consistently runs through him, wild and turbulent current thrashing in his blood, white water rapids trying to flood his lungs. His cock is heavy at night as he imagines you bent over the butcher’s block, leggings ripped open, gooseflesh cascading from the small of your back down, empty little hole clenching on nothing, begging for a fullness only he can give. He dreams about your tears, salty sweet drops soaking your cheeks as the crown of his cock bulges in your throat, as he takes your air and gives it back, over and over again. 

Ruin you, rearrange you, remold you until you only ever fit him. 

He’ll give you what you need, he’ll take away what you don’t. 

He’ll decide. 

The girl at the counter looks at you, then him, small smile pulling on her lips. “I’m going to get this deposit ready,” she announces to no one since you’re not paying her any attention, barely registering she’s disappeared as you stare at him. 

“Hi… u-um hi, Captain Riley.” You put the pans down onto the counter but miscalculate the distance, and they clatter with a resounding smack, one that makes you wince. Your chest expands with a long, deep breath, and you look away from him to the floor. “Can I get you something?” 

“No, I’m jus’ here to see you.” You jerk, gaze snapping from the floor to his face. 

“Is th-this about your uniform? Did you get it dry-cleaned? I can pay you back for-” You rush out, half panicked and cut off when his hand fits to the space between your shoulder blades with just enough pressure to move you forward. He leads, steering you to one of the little tables by the window, urging you down into the chair before taking his place on the other side. 

“You’re not paying my bloody dry cleaning bill. I’m here to see you, sweetheart.” You’re vibrating, practically rattling in your skin and he wants so badly to soothe you, tuck you into his chest and push the outside world away, but it would be too much, too soon. You’re not ready. 

“See me?” He nods. 

“Why did you run from me the other day?” 

“I didn’t I was just… I was busy.” He didn't expect the truth, not right away. You're always trying to hide your vulnerable spots. 

“Try again. No lying this time.” There’s about one eighth of his usual authority in his voice, the captain’s edge he’s honed over the years, and your lips part with a sharp, small intake of breath. 

“I thought maybe… I thought you might be upset or something and I didn’t want…” you trail off with a shrug, and he’s not surprised. He knows his reassurances from last week weren’t enough. His sweet girl is afraid of her own shadow, you need more than just a few words and your tears wiped. 

“I’m not upset.” He leans back against the rickety wood. There are a million things he could say, do. A million different pieces he could pick apart right here, right now, peel your layers back and put you on your knees with your cheek on his thigh, his hand patting the top of your head. 

“Daddy’s not mad, sweetheart.” 

You’re watching him, waiting, looking for him to give more, heal this wound, but he’s cautious. A gas pedal to the floor will only get him the kind of chase he doesn’t want. Not yet. “You understand me?” 

“Yes,” you whisper. You’re hesitating on something, holding back, but he doesn’t try to drag it out, choosing to wait, to give you the time you need, the space he knows the rest of the world doesn’t allow. “Did um… did they like them?” He cocks his head. 

“The team?” 

“Mhm,” your leg bounces under the table. You’re so fucking cute he could smother you. 

“Yeah baby, they loved them.” You beam, blooming into a pretty, perfect flower, vibrant and colorful, rare as they come. 

“That’s good, I’m so happy.” You wiggle a little bit in the chair, and he bites the inside of his cheek. Fucking hell. He wants you on his lap instead, wiggling around as he slowly sinks you down onto his cock, fingernails biting into his chest as he stretches your pussy, toes curling as you struggle to take him. “D-do you want to take some home?” 

“You have some left over?” You shrug sheepishly. 

“I’ve uh, been making them every day. I thought if you were mad at me, maybe they would… make it better.” Oh baby.

“No. You never have to appease me like that. You never have to appease anyone like that, sweetheart.” 

“Right. Okay.” You look relieved, a little bit of heaviness lifted from your shoulders, and then you give him a small smile. “But do you want to maybe have one… now? W-with me?” His sweet little fawn, navigating the world on new trembling legs, taking chances when she feels brave. 

He pulls your hand into his and strokes his thumb back and forth across your knuckles, setting up a slow, soothing rhythm. “Of course.” 

[henneseyhoe]

A Lieutenant's Daughter and a Soldier's Heart

Terry Richmond x BLACK!FEM!reader

Order: Tea (Angst), Coffee (Smut), Smores (Virginity), Red Velvet Cake (Romantic style(at first)), Chocolate Wafer (Forbidden Love)

SUMMARY: You’ve been getting close with a new friend lately, a little too close for Terry’s liking, someone who shouldn’t have even known of your existence in the first place.

🍰 ˚～Henny’s Bakery!

✮✮✮✮

If there was something you knew how to do, it was to attract what you needed to keep away the most, the latest secret from your father being one of his officers. As a lieutenant, your fathers job was to protect and keep things in line. It was a dangerous job regardless if he was in contact with the danger directly or not and because of that, people barely knew you existed.

The stone cold lieutenant with a daughter? No, surely not! He could never love anything; This is what he liked everyone to think.

It wasn’t until you were caught in his office by Terry that the cat was out of the bag (for him at least).

You were no assistant! Not sitting there looking exactly like lieutenant's wife with a younger face, And you definitely weren’t the same party girl he saw at the club last night, not in that uniform.

You two spent half that day bickering, the other half with you begging him not to tell anyone who you were, not to let your father know that you slipped up and told someone, and absolutely not where he first knew you from. The white flag you raised along with a handshake in solidarity and agreement that he scratch your back and you scratch his (blackmail, really) sprouted an unlikely and unruly friendship…And something more you couldn’t yet explain.

I mean, it wasn’t like you two were fucking…you just hung out, kept company. Maybe kissed a little here and there, but Terry was too emotionally unavailable for you to go any further. You wanted to be with him, to give yourself to him, but he was stubborn as a mule, so why force and beg for what you knew you couldn’t have?

So, you tried to move on. Key word: try.

You hadn’t even known Terry was the jealous type until the recent incident.

When he saw you with someone else, going the places you two went, making the jokes you two made together, it ticked something off in him. The way he made you laugh alone had him salty.

“nigga is not that damn funny..” He’d think as he heard your laugh across the room.

He wished he could get away from the both of yall, but unfortunately for Terry, the guy was a private, small fish, and the man who adored you the most was his boss.

Was he better than Terry? Did he make you feel the way Terry knew he made you feel? All different questions that went through Terry’s mind that had him spinning, practically wishing death on a man he didn’t know from a can of paint, to his grandmother's dismay if she knew.

Terry was sick. Even sicker when flowers started to show up.

It led him to start with you all the time, it felt like you two weren’t even friends anymore, if you could even call y’all’s relationship that.

“Why do you care who I hang out with?” You squint at the man, Terry rolling his eyes in response.

“I don’t. I'm just saying. You don’t know this nigga, yall just met and you drinking with him and shit. Since when you start doing all that?”

You stare at him, patience wearing thin. Did he invite himself over just to piss you off? He didn’t care, he was gonna plant whatever seed he could to get you away from him, unfortunately it was just making you hate him a little more.

“It’s illegal to get drinks with a friend? Where was this energy when I didn’t know you and we was chilling?”

“Exactly though! That just shows how irresponsible you are, we shouldn’t even be friends right now! I could have been crazy or some shit”

It was a bit humorous to you, but you couldn’t even crack a smile or else he’d think you weren’t serious.

Licking the inside of your cheek, you huff. “You are crazy. Now move from in front of the door so I can go! You making me late nigga!”

“No. I said no” He repeated.

“What is your issue? Since when did you give a fuck about who I hang around? Since when did I become a top priority to look after? I’m grown”

“I know you are, I never said you couldn’t hold your own-“

“Then MOOOVE!” You nearly sounded like an irritated cow, but you were over the antics. If you had to fight to get out, you would at this point.

“No!”

“Why?!”

“Cause I don’t trust him! I don’t like you being with him or around him, he’s bad for you”

“Oh please, spare me from the lecture, *dad*. You’re just jealous”

He scoffed “Of what? He’s not better than me-“

You smirk bitterly. “See? You can’t even admit it, yet you wanna make a point that you’re better than him... You have a really sick attachment to me, but don’t wanna do shit about it. I’m not about to sit around and wait for you to make the moves I want you to, Terry, find somebody else to do it. Get help, and cope”

Adding salt to injury is all you did. Nothing you said made what he felt better, but it wasn’t like you were trying to comfort him either.

Your expression made Terry move to deflect as a defensive mechanism, but he couldn’t even do that. He didn’t have the heart to gaslight or fight about it, you were damn right.

“I don’t want you to wait, I never asked you to postpone anything for my own personal reasons”

“Then what the fuck do you want from me, Terry? You’re standing in front of the door like you got something to say but shit is coming out of your mouth. You wanna say something? Say it and leave the ego behind”

Thick silence fell upon the room as you gave him the ultimatum of the night, but as he stared with those eyes you admired on nights it was just you two, it only heated you even more. He didn’t care about the ultimatum. He didn’t care to have you stuck, he was too stuck in his own ways.

He stood his ground, quiet like you expected. You chuckle with no humor and shake your head.

“Right. Move so I can go”

“I told you already, you ain’t going”

He took authority like it was already his, and it wasn’t.

“You told me??? Move out the fucking way”

“No”

“Move!”

He shook his head like a bad kid refusing to eat broccoli, a childish gesture that had you halfway ready to use the army knife in your chanel purse.

You squint. “I’m finna move you myself in a minute…”

“Move me? You?” He looks you up and down, kissing his teeth. “You couldn’t move something with wheels”

“You’ll need two pairs of wheels when I'm done. Let’s see if I can move the chair with them by yourself when you get out the hospital”

Terry’s eyes darkened, his face reading an expression you didn’t expect from your threat.

“And this is the part where I’m supposed to be scared?”

You stepped closer with no fear, determined to make it out that door without folding, one of your hands flying up to push him before he caught it in his large hands.

Holding tight, he yanked you closer to him, so close you could feel each others breath.

“Let go of me, Terry” Your voice shook.

“Back up out my face and sit down before I sit you down”

“Sit me down, I don’t care!”

You said that with the initial plan to get back up, but Terry had already cemented in his mind that he’d leave your legs shaking before you could.

✮✮✮✮

Lord knows how many times you wondered how fucking would feel. As vulgar and nasty as you felt thinking about it sometimes, nothing you thought amounted up to how you were feeling right now.

You could only stare blankly into the distance as Terry pinned you down to your own bed and slid into you from the back. You had already been wet from the borderline torturing he did on your clit before hand, strumming the little pearl until your thighs shut around his hand and your sheets got soaked.

You couldn’t even hold a proper arch for him, hips flat on the bed because of leg exhaustion thanks to all the shaking, but that didn’t stop Terry. That just made it easier to keep you from running as he rolled his hips into you slowly, kissing up your neck as if he had loved you for years.

Your moans fell softly from your lips, lipgloss long gone and wiped off somewhere on your good linens. He even talked sweet to you and held your hands while he was in it.

It was like he forgot you were about to go out with someone else before this. He didn’t.

“Could you imagine him doing this to you? Fucking you this good? Cause I can’t” Even now his obsession and jealousy shines through like a jewel in dirt, one pound following each sentence. Your lungs were deprived of oxygen every single time.

“He couldn’t fuck you like this, baby. Say it!”

“He ca-can’t—Ouuu fuck!”

What he was doing to you was straight voodoo, the type dick you could feel deep in your stomach, the type that had you looking stupid in the face, and that you did look.

You felt the tip of him reach the deepest part inside you, pushing further and further until he physically couldn’t go any further. Your poor walls knew nothing better than to hold his big dick tighter inside of you, milking him for all he had.

“Fuck! Don’t wanna let me go, do you? Tight ass pussy” He grunted, expecting no response from you, and none he got as you drooled all on your sheets.

Was this a dream? This was too good. You had no time to think about how your father would kill you if he knew what was going on in your bedroom at this very moment. His best man on the field digging his beloved daughter out like a slut. That’s what was going on.

He left you heaving, begging to be shown mercy after all that shit talking.

“Uhhh! Fuck! you gonna make me cum, Terry!”

“That’s all I want, baby. I wanna see it, give it to me” He spread your cheeks open and watched himself dip in and out of you, your cream sticking to the base of him and coating his trimmed pubic hairs.

“Yes, yes, yesss!” White flashed behind your eyes as you squeezed them shut harshly, your toes curling as you came around him again, flooding your thighs.

“Give it to me!” His hips jackhammer into yours as he pulled your tired hips back up to force an arch and leaned into you, the force of his thrusts sending you up toward the headboard with small nudges until you clutched onto the fitted sheet below you, the fabric slowly being pulled from the edges of the bed.

The sounds you made heightened and your head spun like blue birds were chirping around you to show you had not a thought left.

You could barely hear the string of “I love you”s above your head as he came, shooting ribbons of milky white cum on your back.

✮✮✮✮

💌~AND WE BACK, AND WE BACK! 🙂‍↕️ idk if i got these rankings right, nor do i care either tbh ngl 💀 i hope anon enjoyed tho, sorry for the wait, boo 🩷 and sorry for any mistakes too it’s late lmao <3

[marvelstoriesepic]

Creamy or Crunchy

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: Bucky joins you grocery shopping to everyone’s surprise.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Bucky hovering; Bucky knowing his favorite people; little bit of protective!Bucky

Author’s Note: I don’t know what this is but I was in need of some silly fluff. Hope you enjoy! ♡

Masterlist

He’s been trailing after you since you left the tower, stuck to your side.

Not in an obvious way, not in a manner that would draw stares or second glances, but in that ever-present way of his - like a second shadow or an old instinct that never really shuts off.

You’ve barely gone five blocks to the nearest grocery store, and Bucky has stuck close the whole time, keeping pace without a word.

It caught everyone off guard when he volunteered to come with you.

He had been slouched in his usual spot at the kitchen counter, cradling a cup of coffee he never seemed to finish, and looking like he had nowhere in particular to be. So when he had straightened, eyes trained on how you pulled on your shoes and muttered a gruff “I’ll come with you,” there was a moment of pause in the conversation between Natasha, Steve, Clint and Sam lounging on the couch in the common room.

Even you had blinked at him, thrown off by the suddenness of it.

Still, you didn’t argue.

Normally, grocery shopping isn’t something that interests anyone in the tower. It is a mundane, civilian thing - something of a life most of you had long since left behind.

There are people who handle it, services that deliver whatever you need at the touch of a button. But you aren’t looking for efficiency. You are looking for something real - something that can make you feel like a human being again.

You’d just gotten back yesterday from a month-long solo mission in Vorkuta, Russia. It was rather harsh. You spent those weeks in the cold, in silence, every step a deliberate calculation, every breath rationed as if you weren’t entirely sure when you’d be allowed another. You operated alone, only allowed to talk to Tony once a week for updates. It was the kind of quiet that made a person feel less like a person and more like an echo.

So you need something normal now. Something unremarkable.

No mission, no intel, no carefully rehearsed exit strategies.

Just a trip to the store, because you want to pick out your own food instead of eating whatever shows up in the tower’s stocked fridge. You want to grab things impulsively - maybe a bag of chips you don’t need or a carton of juice just because it looks good.

You want the simple, stupid pleasure of choosing something, just because. Of standing under the fluorescent hum of grocery store lights and deciding between brands of cereal and coffee creamers like it actually matters.

And Bucky, for all his presence, says nothing.

He just walks with you, hands stuffed into his pockets, eyes darting between the sidewalk and the people passing by. He is relaxed, but only just. There is tension in the way he moves, like he is running an assessment every few steps, tracking details of things you don’t care about at the moment.

The doors to the store slide open with a mechanical hiss, spilling warm, artificial air onto the street.

Inside, there is that familiar smell of waxed floors and cold produce, the sounds of shoppers, the beeping of registers.

A cart squeaks somewhere to your left. A child giggles near the bakery section. A bored-looking cashier stares blankly at the register screen. A tired-locking employee is restocking shelves.

It’s nothing special. But it feels real and humane in a way you need.

Bucky steps in behind you, scanning the store out of habit, then looking at you as if waiting for direction.

You grab a basket and move forward.

He follows without a word.

You walk through fruits and vegetables in bright, and glassy colors, stacked in neat abundance. The air smells like citrus, earth, the scent of misted greens, and something fairly plastic all slightly overwhelming your senses after a month of smelling mostly cold air.

You extend a hand toward the lemons, fingers brushing the textured skin of one when you feel the weight of the basket shift.

Bucky’s hand curls around the handle, pulling it from your grip and holding it himself.

Your gaze snaps up to him, but he isn’t looking at you. Not directly. His eyes are fixed on the rows of produce in front of you, his brows drawn together just slightly, his mouth set in that endearing little frown.

He stands close. Close enough that you can feel the warmth of him. Close enough that, if you shifted just an inch, the fabric of his sleeve would brush against yours.

It’s not intentional, this proximity - it’s more like a habit. He doesn’t seem to realize he’s doing it, doesn’t notice the way his presence expands to fill the space between you until there’s almost nothing left.

He exhales through his nose, shifting his weight slightly, eyes sweeping the fruit display as if it’s something to be figured out rather than casually shopping through.

His metal fingers whir slightly as he flexes his grip around the basket handle.

“This is a lot,” he murmurs, almost absently.

You keep glancing at him. It takes you a second to realize he is speaking at all, his voice being so quiet, a thought that accidentally made its way out.

“What?” you ask softly.

His eyes fall to you briefly, then back to the fruit. His mouth tightens, jaw working, debating whether to explain it or just let it drop.

“Back then,” he says, still not quite looking at you. His eyes scan the apples, the oranges, the rows of neatly stacked avocados and kiwis and papayas flown in from places he never got to see. “You had your basics. Apples. Pears. Some oranges, if you were lucky. But this?” He tilts his head slightly. “This is a lot.”

He doesn’t say it with wonder. He says it with assessment, categorizing this excess, measuring it against whatever memory of the past lingers in the spaces of his mind. Like he is trying to decide if this abundance is a good thing or just another shift in the world that changed without him.

For a second you wonder, if he is talking to you at all - or just thinking out loud, caught between time periods, a man stretched across decades that won’t quite line up.

Your fingers brush the lemons again, grabbing one and carefully putting it in the basket Bucky is holding. “Well,” you mumble, keeping your voice light. “You should see the cereal aisle.”

Bucky huffs out something that’s almost a laugh, something genuine and his eyes land on you again.

You move and pluck what you need. Apples, zucchini, a handful of bright bell peppers. A bundle of fresh basil, its scent still on your fingertips - something Wanda has been asking for. Some mangoes, ripe and golden, the kind Sam offhandedly mentioned craving the other day.

Bucky watches.

He doesn’t reach for anything himself, just keeps his grip on the basket as you fill it and trails closely after you.

His eyes track every motion - the way your fingers test the hardness of an avocado, the way you turn a tomato in your palm, the way you pause just a second before deciding on a bunch of grapes.

He simply observes.

You step over to the plums.

Their deep purple skins glisten under the lights, some nearly black, some streaked with dusky red. You pick one up, pressing it lightly with your thumb, feeling the faint give beneath your touch. Satisfied, you reach for more, slipping them into a paper bag one by one.

Bucky doesn’t say anything.

But you feel him.

The attention he gives you.

His face is unreadable, expression carefully neutral, but there is something behind his eyes - something considering, something caught between memory and recognition.

You don’t know if he realizes you are getting them for him.

You don’t know if he remembers, or if it is just something subconscious, some buried instinct nudging at him in a way he can’t understand.

But you remember. You remember the way he stared at the heap of plums on the kitchen counter weeks ago, the way his fingers had twitched with a want to take one, but he hadn’t. And the way he watched Wanda as she used them to make a pie he didn’t end up eating.

“Do you want some more?” Your voice is casual, warm. And when you glance up at him, he is already looking at you.

Then, almost abruptly, he clears his throat, dropping his gaze. The fingers of his metal hand flex once around the basket handle. He shifts his stance slightly but does not move away from you. When he speaks, his voice is low, almost careful, almost bashful.

“S’ fine.”

But you catch the almost-question in the way his eyes move around, how his fingers tighten and release.

So you grab a handful more and drop them into the bag without a word. Then you fold the top down and place it into the basket.

Bucky doesn’t look away this time.

And he continues wandering along with you through the aisles.

The plums sit among other products and you catch him glancing at them once or twice.

You reach for a carton of eggs when there is a shift.

Not in the air, not in the store itself, but in Bucky.

His posture tightens, his grip on the basket adjusts slightly. You don’t immediately know why, but then you turn your head and see a man standing a few feet away, watching you.

It’s not overtly threatening, not enough to draw attention, but something about his gaze lingers too long, too deliberate. His eyes trace the shape of you, moving slow, assessing. He isn’t leering, isn’t smirking, but the way he looks makes your skin prickle.

He seems to debate if he should say something. Waiting for an opportunity.

You barely have time to move away before Bucky does.

He doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t say a word, just shifts seamlessly into place - between you and the man.

It’s not a dramatic gesture. No sudden motions, no confrontational stance. Just his presence - him planting himself in the way, broad shoulders squaring, jaw setting, scowling.

That man takes his brown eyes away from you and meets Bucky’s gaze, and whatever he sees there - whatever lives behind those icy blue eyes - is enough to make him rethink his interest. He looks away, scratching the back of his head, shuffling back a step, and seems suddenly far more interested in bread.

You exhale softly. Bucky doesn’t move.

He stays right where he is, a silent wall between you and whatever attention you haven’t wanted. His scowl lingers for a second longer before he glances back at you, eyes sweeping over your face as if he is making sure you are fine.

You tilt your head, offering a small, gentle smile. “Everything good?”

His lips twitch, almost like he wants to say something but doesn’t quite know how to form those words.

“Yeah,” he mutters, swallowing.

But his stance is still slightly stiff, his fingers can’t stay calm around the basket handle. And he glances, just once, in the man’s direction - making sure he stays gone.

Something warm fills your chest.

You missed him, while you were gone.

He’s always such a grounding presence at your side.

You missed his dry, reluctant commentary whenever the team does something ridiculous.

You missed walking into the common area with him brooding in his usual chair, pretending not to listen to conversations he’d eventually grumble his way into.

He was there when you stepped off the jet yesterday.

It wasn’t necessary for him to be there, it was six in the morning, after all, but he was.

He hadn’t said much - he never says much - but his eyes ran over you in a way that told you he had been waiting. That there was something heavy underneath that furrowed brow and the almost too casual nod he gave you. Something like relief. Satisfaction. And something much more profound.

You remember how he was when you left.

Standing off to the side of the hangar, arms crossed, jaw pressed tight as you made your final checks. It also wasn’t necessary for him to be there, but, again, he was.

He said goodbye briefly, wished you luck, but in the way you felt him watch you board the jet it seemed there was more he wanted to tell you.

And when the engines had roared to life, when the ground beneath you had begun to shrink, you caught the last glimpse of him - standing stiff, pensive, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

Now, he walks beside you, trailing just a half-step behind, his grip steady around the basket that should be in your hands, watching you more than anything you’re planning to buy.

Maybe that’s why he came with you.

Maybe that’s why he hasn’t strayed, why he hovers close, why his eyes find you like he is memorizing something he doesn’t want to lose track of again.

Maybe he missed you, too.

He is not grumpy, but there is still a tension in him. Something wound too tight in his shoulders, in the set of his jaw, in the way he glances at you like he wants to say something and then doesn’t.

You can’t have that.

Your eyes scan the shelves as you walk further along, knowing that Bucky will follow.

“What kind of soup does Steve eat?”

Bucky’s brows pull together at your casual question, as if he can’t believe that’s what you asked. “Soup?”

You nod, dead serious. “Yeah. I mean, does he have a favorite? Chicken noodle? Tomato? Something tragic, like plain broth?”

Bucky exhales sharply, almost a laugh and something in him relaxes ever so slightly. He tilts his head back a little as if this is the most absurd thing anyone has ever asked him, but he humors you.

“Steve doesn’t eat plain broth,” he says in that low rasp that sometimes sends a shiver down your spine. Now is sometimes. “He’s got more sense than that.”

You hum thoughtfully, reaching for a can on the shelf, inspecting it like it holds the answer to some great mystery.

“So what is it, then? Something classic? Or does he secretly go for the weird gourmet stuff?”

Bucky steps closer, peering over your shoulder. The fabric of his jacket brushes against your back.

You glance up at him, arching your brow.

“You don’t know, do you?”

Bucky rolls his eyes, but his face is soft. The scowl has faded. There is a tug at the corner of his mouth. “Of course, I know.”

“Uh-huh.”

He huffs, reaching past you to grab a can from the shelf, fingers brushing yours briefly. “Clam chowder,” he utters. “There. Happy?”

You blink, genuinely caught off guard. “Wait. Really?”

Bucky smirks, just a little, just enough to be real.

“Yeah,” he says, voice a bit quieter. “Really.”

“Well, then,” you quip, taking the can off his hands and putting it in the basket. “He shall have it.”

Bucky huffs out an amused laugh.

You walk a little slower now, Bucky falls into step beside you. He seems lighter now, his face softened as he watches a little boy excitedly run off to a certain aisle while his mother calls out for him.

You plan on keeping him that way.

You spot a ridiculously, colorful display stacked high with an array of different kinds of peanut butter.

“Creamy or crunchy?”

Bucky blinks, turning to look at you. “What?”

You gesture toward the display like it’s obvious. “Steve. What kind of peanut butter does he eat? Creamy or crunchy?”

There is a beat of silence. Then, something seems to turn alive in Bucky’s expression. His lips twitch as if he suppresses a smirk and doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction.

“You serious?”

“Deadly.” You fold your arms, tilting your head. “I feel like he’s a creamy peanut butter guy, but I could be wrong.”

Bucky is hovering again, looking at the shelves like this is suddenly a debate worth considering. His arm brushes against your side, but he doesn’t move away.

“You’re wrong.”

You glance at him, eyebrows raised. “Oh?”

“He’s a crunchy guy,” Bucky says, reaching for a jar with his flesh hand and inspecting it like proof. “Says the creamy stuff’s got no texture. No character.”

You snort.

Bucky hums, still holding the jar, rolling it absently in his hand. He looks at ease. The basket dangles from his metal fingers as if it weighs nothing, even though it is filled with products.

You watch him.

The tension in his shoulders is practically gone and you know you should probably leave it there, but you don’t.

Because you want more.

More of this, more of him, more of that unguarded space where he forgets to be closed off.

So, you bite your lip and tilt your head at him before asking carefully. “What about you?”

Bucky glances at you, a small crease forming between his brows. “What about me?”

You gesture vaguely. “What kind of peanut butter do you like?”

For a moment, he just stares at you, like the question has never occurred to him before. Like no one’s ever bothered to ask.

You can almost see the gears turning in his head, his fingers tightening slightly around the jar. The hesitation is there. He doesn’t know how to answer. Perhaps he doesn’t know if he has a preference. Or it’s just been a long, long time since someone cared enough to ask.

You wait, patiently.

Finally, he lets out a cough, looking back at the display as if searching for an answer among the shelves. “…Crunchy,” he mutters. “I guess.”

You gin. “Yeah?”

He shifts his weight, looking rather uncomfortable but not in a bad way. Just unsure. This is unfamiliar ground for him, not knowing what to do with the attention.

You reach forward and pluck the jar from his hand before he can second-guess himself.

“Alright,” you say, dropping it into the basket with a decisive little thud. “Crunchy it is.”

Bucky observes you do it, something shimmering in his expression - something soft, a little hesitant, but warm. Like this tiny, seemingly meaningless choice holds a weight to him.

His jaw flexes slightly, as if he is about to say something, but he just exhales through his nose and shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

But there is no bite to it.

And this time, he is the one to start walking, making sure you come along, staying just a little closer than before.

You are nearing the checkout registers when Bucky suddenly stops walking. It’s so abrupt that you almost keep going, but the absence of him beside you makes you pause.

You turn, finding him standing in front of a shelf, scanning its contents with a strange kind of focus, considering something.

You wait, watching the way his eyes search the options, his brows furrowing slightly. There is no tension in his posture, no obvious reason for the sudden stop - just deliberation.

Then, without a word, he reaches out, grasps a familiar-looking package, and drops it into the basket.

A soft thud.

Your gaze falls down, and your stomach does something strange when you realize what it is.

Chocolate-covered almonds.

The ones you always grab when you’re wandering the tower’s kitchen late at night, mind still wired from a mission, too awake to sleep but too tired to focus on anything real.

The ones you mindlessly snack on when you’re curled up on the couch, half-listening to, half-joining a conversation, or watching a movie.

The ones you didn’t even realize you had a thing for until you see them sitting in the basket between his plums, Steve’s soup, and the peanut butter Bucky prefers.

Your lips part slightly, surprised, searching his face. “You- Why’d you grab these?”

Bucky doesn’t even hesitate.

“Because you like them.”

Matter-of-fact. Simple. As if it’s obvious.

Just a fact.

Like it’s something he has known all along, something he has cataloged somewhere deep in that careful, quiet mind of his without ever making a big deal of it.

The realization unsettles you - not in a bad way, but in the kind of way that makes your chest feel suddenly too full.

You swallow, the corners of your lips twitching slightly, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck.

“How do you know that?”

The words leave your lips lightly, bright with curiosity, playful in their demand. But beneath it, there is something you don’t quite let slip.

Something about the fact that he’s been watching.

That he’s noticed.

That he has paid attention in a way you didn’t think anyone has.

His grip on the basket adjusts for the hundredth time, but not because it’s heavy, he just seems to need something to do with his hands.

He schools his expression into something nonchalant, something careless, but it’s betrayed by the hint of warmth dusting across his cheekbones.

“You’re always munchin’ on ‘em,” he says, a teasing edge lacing his voice. He tries to sound smug, like it is an observation, just a simple fact, but there is something softer beneath it. Something like fondness.

You don’t even know if it’s been that obvious. If you truly eat these things out in the open that often.

Or if he just really is that observant.

That realization settles deep in your chest, warm and startling all at once.

So you just huff, pretending like your heart isn’t skipping beats, like his answer isn’t winding around something tender inside you.

“Well,” you remark, nudging his arm as you start walking again, “now I feel self-conscious about my snacking habits.”

Bucky lets out a soft chuckle. And when he falls into step beside you, he leans in slightly, voice just low enough for you to hear.

“Don’t.”

“The most sincere compliment we can pay is attention.”

- Walter Anderson

[rosiereveries]

You met John Price in some shity bar where your friends dragged you to celebrate someone's birthday. John immediately noticed you and he sent you a few drinks. The whole time you had no idea who your secret admirer was. When John notices that your friends start to leave, he finally approaches you. He asks you if he could buy you another drink not mentioning that he was your source of alcohol the whole night. After some talking you know that you don't want the night to end. That's how you end up in his apartment, with slow music playing in the background sitting on John's lap and making out. Both of you know that this will end in his bed. John is making mental notes that he must ask you for your number in the morning. He doesn't want this to r just one time thing, he wants to invite you out, properly date you. What John doesn't expect is waking up alone in the morning. You left pretty early and only left a note on his kitchen table saying : thanks for the night xoxo

Now almost a year later John can't stop thinking about you. He comes to the conclusion that you were not from the town and you were just visiting. His friends make fun of him, for falling in love with a random girl who he slept with only once. Imagine his surprise when he finally sees you in town, in some cute bakery waiting in line for you sweet treat. It is just like in his fantasies, when he sees you and asks you for a date and you agree and eventually you spend your life together. What he does not expect is a chubby baby boy that you hold. He quickly does the math. His is 100% sure that the baby is his. He waits for you outside preparing his speech. When you walk out of the cafe pushing the pram you finally see him. The man from the bar you met a year ago. You don't have any time to process what is happening. In one moment John is walking to you and the next moment his is kneeling in front of you holding your hand talking about doing the right thing. He tells you that he knows this is not how you imagined this, but he is here now and he will help you raise your baby. He asks you to marry him, tells you he will give you a good life. You don't have to work just focus on raising his child.

When he finally lets you explain the situation you just laugh at him. You tell him that it is not his baby. And it is not even yours. You're just babysitting for your friend who asked for your help. You also remind him that you used protection when you slept together and he finally starts to think again. John joins you on your walk and he spends the whole day with you and the baby. He finally asks you for your number. Just before he goes to bed that day, he texts you and asks you out. You agree, but he has to promise, that he will not propose to you for at least a year. And no unprotected sex for him too. That will break his heart but anything for his darling. He will make sure you will have a nice ring on your finger before he makes you a mom. Don't worry he will make it the right way.

Masterlist You can support my work here : ko-fi

[itoshiexx]

when you're mad and use their full name

how the blue lock boyfriends react when you're mad and use their full name

pairings: isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro and itoshi sae x gn!reader (separate) | warnings: little arguments, angst if u squint, reader is kinda hot headed? lol, mostly fluff and the boys wanting to be in your good graces.

notes: did i kick depression in the ass to finish this? not really. but it worked, and here i am! this is my nagi seishiro debut omgggg hopefully i did him justice and he's not too ooc. also new design for the scenarios to match my theme. enjoy, lovelies! let me know if you'd like especific scenarios and send me an ask :)

masterlist

ISAGI YOICHI

yoichi hoped he would die. 

really. 

it’s the least he deserved for making you angry — even more so because he didn’t know what made you angry in the first place. he spent the last fifteen minutes excavating his mind to try and remember what could have ticked you off so much that you don’t even wanna look at him.

he hates it. isagi needs your eyes on him, needs to hear your voice and touch your skin. and with the way you’re so silent and distant, he might be just like a man in the desert without water.

“baby,” he looked at you on the other end of the couch, intently watching the tv show in front of you.  just a glimpse would make him breathe again. just a nod would ease his nerves. hell, he would even take a glare, as long as you were looking at him.

but he got nothing. zero. nada.

“baby, please,” he tried again. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you mad.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, but still didn’t spare him a glance. he sighed.

“i’ll never do it agai—”

“do you even know why you’re apologizing, isagi yoichi?!” you asked, exasperated. your boyfriend froze on the spot when hearing his full name, because of course he didn’t. 

as far as he knew, you were having a great day together. he bought you breakfast from your favorite bakery, you made a delicious lunch and then you two went out shopping. he even gifted you with a beautiful necklace after an enthusiastic shop employee offered to show him some pieces—

oh.

“you got jealous of the saleswoman?”

“blah blah you got jealous of the saleswoman? heck yeah I did!” you impersonated him with a high pitched, sarcastic voice that showed just how mad you were. “she was all over you, yoichi, and you didn’t do anything!” 

he swallowed thickly, daring to approach you on the couch. he hugged your frame, despite the crossed arms in front of your chest making it a little hard.

“i’m sorry, darling. i didn’t even notice she was being inappropriate because you’re the only one i pay attention to. and i always figured people would never dare be so bold if you’re by my side and we’re clearly together.”

his sweet words coated you, making you glance away, knowing that looking at his puppy eyes would end you for good. 

“you should have done something anyway.”

“i know. i totally should, and i’m sorry i didn’t. i never meant to make you feel bad or let people disrespect you.” he rested his chin on your shoulder, breath shuddering right on your ear.

the sincerity in his voice was enough to chip away your anger, and you visibly relaxed in his embrace. yoichi held a breath of relief, knowing he still had to be careful.

“i’m sorry, baby. it won’t happen again. forgive me, please?” he placed a sweet kiss on your cheek, and god, how could you keep being mad like that?

damn isagi yoichi and his genuine blue eyes.

you uncrossed your arms, embracing his instead, and finally looked at him with love again.

“fine. but just because you’re so charming, ‘ichi.”

he chuckled. “you’re the charming one. i’m totally under your spell, darling.”

and when your lips met, yoichi hoped to keep living just to have more of you.

NAGI SEISHIRO

people would often ask him if his detached, nonchalant persona ever got in his way through his life. seishiro would always say no, because everything and everyone he did care about understood his lazy way and inability to do… pretty much everything.

that didn’t mean he never made the effort, though. as much as nagi liked to live like a sloth and just go on with his life playing video games, there were still things in his life that were worth it. like football. his friends. and you, of course. 

ever since you met, seishiro discovered that being with you wasn’t a bother. and after he fell in love and you became a couple, he found himself eager to indulge you, even if it meant going out of his way. his friends congratulated him and expressed genuine happiness to see how much he improved, and that, along with your beautiful smile, filled his heart with joy. 

however, no matter how much he tried, he was still…

“nagi seishiro.” 

a shiver ran down his spine with the sound of your voice, and not the good kind. he had never heard you sound so stern, so angry, so… disappointed, even. enough to leave a sour taste in his mouth. so much so he immediately lifted his eyes from his console, only to find your harsh gaze.

“ehh? wha’ did i do, angel? don’t say my name like that,” he pouted, crawling towards your body splayed on the bed. 

even when you tried to fight his embrace, nagi took advantage of his large frame to engulf you and lay his head on your chest, so you wouldn’t walk away in case you got any angrier.

“babeeeee,” he whined, hugging you tighter.

“let go of me,” you said, and he just shook his head. “you deserve it. you weren’t even listening to what i was saying, were you?”

what a hassle. he really wasn’t listening, but… well, he got way too focused on beating the last boss. could you really blame him? 

he heard you scoff. “oh, my bad, i should have known it was the last boss. it’s more important than me anyway, right, nagi?”

fuck. fuck. fuck. did he say that out loud? he sounded like a dick. you had every right to be mad and call him by his full or last name. 

nagi lifted his head from your chest to look at you, feeling his throat tighten with the sight of your teary eyes. guilt gnawed at his chest when seeing how upset and frustrated you were. 

“eh, ’m sorry, pretty thing. i got too caught up ‘n didn’t notice you were talking t’me.”

“am i that invisible to you?” a tear almost rolled down your cheek. seishiro shook his head, a little more exasperated than usual. 

“huh? ’f course not, angel. y’re never invisible. all i see is you. y’re the most important to me,” he held eye contact, and even though you wanted to tear your gaze away, seishiro’s eyes were more magnetizing than ever, even if your view was a little blurry.

you knew your boyfriend wasn’t the type to lie, since he always claimed it was a hassle. you knew you were important to him, but his lack of consideration still hurt. 

“i’ll apologize as many times as you wish. ‘m sorry for not listening and making you feel bad. i never wan’ you to feel bad, pretty thing.” 

nagi used his strength to roll around and switch your positions, in a way you were on top of him instead. he started caressing your hair in a soothing motion, making your eyelashes flutter. “y’can talk as much as you want. i promise i’ll listen t’you.”

your eyes welled with tears for a different reason, and you hugged the striker as hard as you could. even if he faltered, seishiro never failed to make up to you and make you feel loved.

“promise, sei?”

“promise.”

ITOSHI SAE

although sae wasn’t exactly smart in the emotions field, he always knew when you weren’t happy with something. you scowled, huffed and rolled your eyes, keeping an eerie silence that was only broken when absolutely necessary. 

at that moment, he was sure you weren’t happy with him.

you both kept to yourselves while still at the event, masquerading any problems for the cameras. sae had a hand at the small of your back and he could feel how stiff you were. the midfielder wouldn't admit that seeing you so uncomfortable around him made his heart pang.

at the limo, the path to your shared penthouse was quiet, and you brushed him off when he tried to hold your hand. sae could only stare at his window with furrowed brows, itching to dissipate this awkward atmosphere. he never liked when you were mad, especially at him.

he expected some sort of explosion when you got to your apartment, but you kept your glaze off him, trying to walk to the bedroom for your night routine without even sparing him a word. 

nuh-uh. that wouldn’t do. 

he held your wrist before you could go, and lightly pulled you so that you were facing him. your eyes widened with the sudden movement, but narrowed as soon as landed on his face. 

“why are you mad?”

you scoffed. the audacity of this man. 

“you know exactly why i’m mad, itoshi sae.”

shit, the government name? you were really fucking angry.

“i wouldn’t be asking if i knew,” he answered, immediately regretting it when you glared at him, as if saying that wasn’t the right answer. “i-i mean… i didn’t realize what was wrong, amor.”

you walked closer to your boyfriend, making him release your wrist. despite his typical stoic face, sae was clinging to your every word.

“itoshi sae, you can not talk to your little brother like that!” you nearly growled on his face, surprising him. “you were very rude and condescending, and that’s no way to speak to rin!”

he frowned. you were mad because of rin? the little green monster inside of him threatened to grow, but he forced him to stay put. sae didn’t want to anger you further, so he simply let his hands slither to your hips, pulling you closer to him.

“i don’t think i was rud—” you lifted one eyebrow, and he rolled his eyes. “fine. i might have been kinda harsh.”

“and?” you crossed your arms.

he sighed. “i will apologize.”

“i’m serious about this, itoshi sae. i will ask rin—”

“i’ll tell him i’m sorry, okay? no need to keep talking about rin.” he interrupted, palms traveling to your ass while he nosed your neck. he planted a small kiss under your ear, huffing a minty breath that made you shudder. sae smirked. “and no need to keep calling me by full name, either. what happened to ‘cariño’?”

you held onto his biceps for some grounding, but still didn’t budge. 

“you weren’t very sweet today, so it’s not fitting.” 

he pouted while hiding in your neck, taking full advantage that you couldn’t see him, but was quick to withdraw to face you once again, touching your noses. one of his hands cradled your jaw, and you sighed with the pathetic effect your boyfriend had on you. 

“perdóname, amor?” he whispered against your lips, eyes sincere like you knew he could be. your poor little heart could never resist him when he was like this, rarely vulnerable and eager for you.

you gave a long exhale, arms moving to tangle around his neck. and folded.

“as long as you make it right, mi cariño.”

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