#Baker reader
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holylulusworld · 3 months ago
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No exceptions (3)
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Summary: He likes your guts and your cake.
Pairing: Mobster!Frank Castle x Baker!Reader
Warnings: angst, mentions of anxiety, mafia business, flirty Frank (he tries, okay), groping, mentions of domestic violence/violence against young Frank
Catch up here: No exceptions (2)
No exceptions masterlist
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Watching the two men talk about business, you chew on your lower lip.
What did Mr. Murdock mean—does he want to take over your bakery, and you’ll end up on the street? Will you end up in jail because you got involved with the mob?
What if you end up dead or worse because of them?
You’re trembling, and your legs are about to give in as your anxiety spikes once again.
Frank is quick to react. He has you back in his lap before you can protest. “You have to sit down and drink lots of water, sweet cheeks. I told you to let me look after you.”
“I,” you’re unable to react. Dizziness and your anxiety hold your body in a tight grip. You try to focus on breathing to calm down.
“In and out, sweet cheeks,” Franks whispers in your ear. “No one is going to hurt you. You see, the gun in my pants is a real one. If someone tries to hurt you, they end up on the ground.”
“I don’t think this helps her right now,” Matt leans closer to whisper the words. “She doesn’t feel safe with you and your gun around.”
“Nah, she loves me.” Frank won’t accept any less than you in his arms. “I’ll make her see that I’m the good guy here.”
“I,” wheezing, you look at Matt. “I can’t do this. What if I get arrested? I won’t survive jail.”
“Whoa, calm down, sweet cheeks. No one is sending my girl to jail.” Frank pats your thigh. “You’re safe and sound, and I’ll make sure it stays this way.”
“I only want you to do us a little favor. No one will know about it but you, me, and Frank. I’ll let him keep an eye on your bakery and you to provide safety.”
Frank rubs your arms and murmurs in your ear to calm you. “I love keeping an eye on her. She’s not in danger.”
“Back to business, Frank.” Matt leans back in his chair, eyes glued to you. “I want you to take my money and make more for me. This way, a part of my business will be legal. I’ll be a silent partner—or rather, one of my companies will. No one will find out it’s my money.”
You don’t want his money or for them to get involved with your business. All your life, you tried to find your way. Now there are these men forcing their way into your life, and there’s nothing you can do about it, and it makes you feel sick.
“I think we talked about the basics. I’ll make an appointment to discuss the details. Frank, make sure the lovely lady gets a rest. Send the customers home, but let them pay first.”
Matt slowly gets up from his chair. He nods at you, saying your name with respect and a hint of softness. “I’ll enjoy doing business with you. I know this is a little much, but being under my protection means safety and stability for you and your business.”
He leaves, not before paying for the cupcakes and coffee. Matt Murdock is by all means not a nice man, but he respects your business and you. “Have a good day, miss.”
Frank watches his boss leave. He smirks while saying, “So, do you want me to kick them out, or do we wait for them to leave?” He says it loud enough for your customers to hear. They hurriedly get up and place the money they owe you on the tables.
“Finally, alone,” he hums when you start to squirm again. “I want you to relax. Don’t work yourself up, Y/N. I’ll take care of you from now on.”
You don’t know if you should be relieved or scared by his words. For now, all you can do is let him help you off his lap and lock the bakery.
He looks around your bakery, humming, before he helps you clean the tables. “My ma always wanted a bakery. She was a good baker. Her pie brought me to my knees.”
You glance at him while he continues. “Dad, the old bastard wouldn’t let her, though. He wasn’t good to her.” Frank taps his nose. “See this?” Frank asks as you glance at his nose. “He broke it thrice because I defended her.”
“Oh,” it’s all you get out. No parents are perfect, but Frank’s father sounds like the worst you ever heard about.
“He was a goddamn bastard, but he didn’t break me,” he says while following you to the back of the bakery with the plates and cups in his hands. “I’m telling you this to let you know that I’d never hurt a woman. I’m a bastard, but I’m not a goddamn bastard.”
“Your mom must be proud of you,” you say. “You tried to protect her.”
“She’s long gone.” There’s a hint of sadness in his eyes before it’s gone. “Cancer, ya know. Life likes to fuck you over if it gets the chance. Once free of the bastard, she got sick and died.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, carefully touching his arm. “That must have been tough. Your father was a bad man, and then your mom died.”
“I grew up, and—” he shrugs. “I did lots of shit, ended up in jail. When I got out, Matt found me and…” Frank pauses, eyes drifting toward you, as so often today. “He saved me. You’re scared of him, but he will not hurt you. I swear on my ma’s grave.”
Part 4
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bluetooththereptile · 7 days ago
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"My papa is the best! He is handsome and he has the biggest smile ever and-and..." the little girl stumbled through her words, her voice shaking a little as she tried to remember her words, feeling nervous in front of her class as she was doing show and tell "And he makes the best cakes ever!" She grinned as she looked up at you, holding your hand as she held your uniform's hat "He likes to put it on his head when he's working in his bakery and he let's me to put his apron in the washer when he's done working! My papa is the best! He has the biggest beer belly ever and always smells of caramelized sugar!"
The class clapped as her speech came to an end, the other parents letting out an collective "Aww" at the sight of you putting your hand on your chest at the sheer cuteness of it all, who knew that a child like her could thrive so much under the care of a step father within months? Everyone knew of her father, the bastard had left his family to struggle and the little one was under so much pressure since her crippled mother could not work much, but it seemed you were a miracle, and indeed you were.
It's just that your wife is the actual miracle maker. Your wife's innocent smile, soft voice and meek demeanor is a front to the true woman laying beneath. She does love you, don't get me wrong, it's just that she was over enthusiastic to know the new baker in the town, so much so that in fact she cried so much to her brothers that they ended up taking care of her "missing" husband for her, he deserved it all though.
Now she can make sure to secure you to herself, she loves you, she loves you, your round belly, the smile on your face, the money in your bank, the laughter you bring home, the evening massages, she loves it all, and she won't let you take that love from her, she'll make sure to tune the little one into the family matters, teach them young after all.
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themorningsunshine · 1 month ago
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Apple pies
Pie eyed over you - Chapter 4
Mafia - Baker AU
Masterlist                        Series Masterlist
Previous Part
Pairing - Mafia!Bucky x Baker!Reader
Summary - When a new baker in town refuses to abide by his rules, Bucky has no option but to go and take care of it himself. But nothing could prepare him for what stood on the other side. Nothing could prepare him for you.
Warnings - Some talk of weapons, and a scene where the reader feels she is being followed
Word count - 3.7k
A/n - Took me 2 years, but the chapter is finally here. I am extremely sorry for extending my break this much. I am not sure if anyone is still interested in this story, but I really wanted to get back to writing, so here it is :)
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The elevator doors slid open with a whisper, revealing the cold marble floor of the mob tower’s top level. Bucky stepped out, dark coat swinging behind him.
Steve stood near the railing with his arms crossed, jaw tight. Sam paced beside him, checking his watch for the third time in two minutes. Both of them turned at the sound of approaching footsteps — heavy, measured, familiar.
“Dude, where the hell were you?” Sam was the first person to speak, stepping beside Bucky as they walked to the conference room.
“Good morning to you too, Sam.” Bucky rolled his eyes, but his lips were tucked slightly upward. There was a certain softness to his expression, a skip in his step.
Sam squinted his eyes. “There’s something on his face, Steve.”
Bucky’s eyes narrowed, looking at his reflection in the marble of the walls. “What?”
Steve elbowed Sam lightly. “You’re smiling, Buck.”
Sam interrupted, “No, no. That’s not possible. There has to be some other explanation. I bet on – He’s dying.”
Bucky rolled his eyes again. “Shut up. Can’t a man just have a good day?”
Sam’s eves widened. “A goo - ? Steve. I am telling you, he cannot lead this meeting in this condition. We need to rush him to the hospital, or even the cemetery is fine with me.”
They stepped into the conference room where Stark had been waiting for 15 minutes. As soon as his eyes landed on Bucky, his grimace grew. “Barnes, you’re late. Some of us have other empires to run, you know.”
Bucky didn’t flinch, didn’t argue back. “You’ll live, Stark.”
Bucky straightens up and claps his hands once. “So, let’s get to it.”
Tony picked up his tablet, presenting the screen to the whole room. “So, the Mark IV. Still think it’s too flashy?”
“I think it’s unstable,” Bucky said, sliding into the chair opposite. “I need reliability, not a light show.”
Tony clicked his tongue. “So, you want boring.”
“I want functional,” Bucky replied, voice calm. “If it fails, people die.”
“Alright, alright,” Tony grumbled, thumbing through settings. “I’ll strip it down, swap in a tri-core stabilizer. Loses some edge, but it won’t jam in a blizzard.”
“And the recoil sensors?”
“Upgraded. Thermal override. But you’ll lose two percent on range.”
Bucky gave a slow nod. “I can live with that.”
He leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. His voice was still quiet, still measured. “But I want eyes on every shipment. No third-party drops. Your men hand it to mine. In person.”
Tony raised a brow. “So that’s what this mellow version of you is about— trust issues wrapped in a velvet bow.”
“Call it what you want,” Bucky said. “Non-negotiable.”
Tony leaned back and gave him a crooked grin. “Fine. But if this goes south, don’t come crying to me.”
“I don’t cry, Stark.”
“No,” Tony smirked. “But you used to break tables when you didn’t get your way.” He stood, offering a hand. “Progress.”
Bucky clasped it once, firmly.
Tony smirked. “Also, congratulations on taking down Pierce. It was about damn time.”
Bucky nodded. ”But we still haven’t caught that bastard. Escaped like a mouse.”
“I am sure you will.”
Across the room, Sam leaned toward Steve again. “Okay, what the hell? Bucky isn’t yelling, hasn’t clipped commands or threatened to break someone’s jaw or burn them alive in half an hour. Trust me, I am not complaining but what has gotten over him?”
Steve didn’t respond right away. Sam kept his voice low. “Maybe it’s not bad. You’ve seen him like this before?”
“Once,” Steve said, jaw tightening. “Before everything went to hell.”
Sam whispered slowly, “You think it’s her?”
Steve didn’t answer. He knew what Sam didn’t. Knew Bucky.
The meeting wrapped up with a handshake and a few nods. Tony left with a smirk, mumbling something about miracles and therapy. The room emptied slowly.
Bucky stayed behind, gathering the files. Calm. Almost serene. Steve didn’t move until the door clicked shut behind the last man.
Then: “You’re not even going to tell me what’s going on?”
Bucky didn’t look up. “Nothing’s going on, Steve.”
“You show up smiling, speaking in full sentences, not threatening to break anyone’s jaw—Sam practically started doing the sign of the cross.”
Bucky shrugged. “Can’t a guy have a good day?”
Steve walked closer, voice dropping. “It’s not just a good day. Something’s changed.” A pause.
Then Bucky met his eyes, and Steve saw it — the softness. The warmth. Something achingly human behind the cool blue.
“She’s good for you,” Steve said, softer now. “I see it. So does Sam.” He didn’t ask. He stated it.
That earned him a glance. “What are you getting at?”
Steve exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “You care about her.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” Steve turned to him fully. “But you’re not just smiling, Buck. You’re softening. Letting her in. That’s not something you do lightly.”
Bucky’s jaw clenched, the moment of levity gone. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you?” Steve asked, and his voice wasn’t accusing, just heavy. “Does she know who you are?”
Silence. “Buck.”
“No.” The word left his mouth quietly. “She doesn’t.”
Steve exhaled. “Then you are building a deep damn hole for yourself, Buck. Because this thing—whatever it is—it’s real. And she doesn’t know who you are.” Silence. “She doesn’t know what we do. The people we’ve hurt.”
“I know,” Bucky snapped, sharper than he intended. “You think I don’t lie awake thinking about that? You think I don’t see it every time I look at her? That every single time she smiles at me, or holds my hand, I feel like I am somehow tainting her with the blood on my hands? Every damn time she says my name with a softness I won’t be worthy of in any universe, I hate myself a little more.” He stopped, breath caught. His voice dropped, almost to a whisper, “because god damn it, how does someone like me get to even breathe the same air as someone like her?”
Steve’s voice softened, his heart aching for his best friend. “You need to tell her. Before someone else does.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
Bucky ran a hand through his hair, suddenly restless. “Because I finally have something that doesn’t feel like blood and ash. Something soft. And good. And real.” His voice cracked slightly. “She looks at me like I’m just… James. Not a monster. Not a mob boss. Just… James. And the moment I tell her truth, I lose that. I lose her. She would never want to see my face again, Steve. She will hate me.”
Steve takes a step forward, “You don’t know that.”
A broken expression flickered across Bucky’s face. “That’s the thing. I do. I have stood there and listened to her talking about how much she hates the mob. About how she despises them with everything she’s got. And even after that, I am such a fucking terrible person, I didn’t tell her truth. You know why? Because the moment I do so, everything comes crashing down. She will stop looking at me like someone worthy. Like someone anything more than a monster. Like someone she could love.” Bucky’s voice echoes in the hall room.
Steve had never seen his friend so scared, so vulnerable. He was seeking the light and he knew it, but he had to save his friend from the fire too. “She deserves to know the truth.”
“I know she does.”
Steve moved closer. “So tell her. Would you rather build something on a lie?”
“It’s not a lie—”
“It is if you’re hiding the worst part of yourself.” Bucky flinched. “I’m not saying you don’t deserve this,” Steve added gently. “God, Buck, if anyone deserves a shot at something good, it’s you. But you’re terrified she’ll walk away, and what then? You spiral? You burn down everything again?”
Bucky was quiet for a long time. Then, finally: “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Steve.” His voice was almost broken. “And I don’t know how to let go of that.”
Steve put a hand on his shoulder, his voice gentler now. “Then don’t.” He squeezed gently. “Just don’t wait too long. Because the truth always finds a way out. And if it comes from someone else… you won’t just lose her. You’ll lose yourself.”
Bucky looked away, jaw tight, chest rising and falling like he couldn’t catch his breath. “I don’t know how to do this, Steve. I’ve never had something I wanted to protect this badly.” “You don’t protect someone by lying to them,” Steve said quietly. “You protect them by giving them the choice.”
Bucky didn’t reply. He just stared out through the window, eyes far away, knuckles white. And Steve, watching him, didn’t say anything else. Because he knew that look—the look of a man dangling off the edge, holding on with bleeding fingers, too afraid to fall and too afraid to let go.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩
You step out of the grocery store just as the sun slips below the skyline. The sky is that in-between shade and the streetlights buzz to life with a flicker, casting long shadows that stretch across the pavement.
You hug the paper bag closer to your chest. It crinkles in your arms. Feels louder than it should in the quiet. The walk to the bakery isn’t long. Ten minutes, maybe less if you don’t stop.
Your phone is silent in your coat pocket. Still no message. Still no call.
You tried not to think about it. Tried not to let the silence weigh too much. Last night meant something. Right?
Your fingers gripped the paper bag tighter. You could still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, still remember the way he had looked at you—so gentle, so unguarded. But the doubt crept in, quiet and mean.
What if it hadn’t meant anything to him? What if you were just another soft place to land? You hate the way your chest tightens, how the silence starts to sound like a verdict. Maybe he woke up and realized it was a mistake. Maybe he left it behind like it was easy. You swallow the thought. It feels too sharp, like chewing on glass.
The city is quieter than usual. Not empty, just… muted. Like it’s holding its breath. A man across the street leans against a lamppost, smoke curling from the tip of his cigarette. He doesn’t look at you. Still, something prickles at the back of your neck. You ignore it. Tell yourself you’re being dramatic.
Another streetlamp flickered overhead. Buzz. Flicker. Dark. Light again.
You glance over your shoulder. Nothing there. And yet. There’s a feeling. Like breath on your collarbone. Like something just barely out of sight. You shake it off. Adjust your pace. Just a little faster.
Then— A sound. A footstep that doesn’t match your rhythm. You stop. Pretend to check your phone. You glance back. No one. But you feel it. That sensation. Of not being alone.
You pass the florist. Closed. Lights off. The reflection in the darkened window catching your eye. Someone was behind you. Far back. Walking slow.
You start walking again, quicker this time. Each step lands harder than the last. Your heartbeat starts to climb, matching the tempo of your feet. You pass a row of darkened windows. Your reflection moves with you. And then—a footstep. Not yours. Measured. Delibrate.
You don’t turn. You just know. Every hair on your arms stands on end. Your hands tremble, the grocery bag rustling like dry leaves. Your breath fogs in the air. You try to keep it even. Try to make it to the corner. One more street and you’ll see the bakery. The lights. The warmth. Another step behind you. Closer now.
Your mouth goes dry. You think you can hear your heartbeat—too fast, too loud—thudding in your ears like it might give you away. You grip your phone so tight your fingers ache. You don’t unlock it. Don’t text anyone. You don’t want to look down. You just want to get there.
You turn the corner. There it is. The bakery. Lit up like a beacon. You break into a near-run, not caring how it looks, not caring if you drop the stupid groceries. You don’t look back. You don’t want to see what’s behind you. Not yet.
You stumble the last few steps to the bakery. The bag crushes against your chest, your breath coming in short, shallow bursts. The warm glow from the bakery providing a moment of relief. Your heart hammering in your chest – But then you see him.
Just to the side of the door, half in shadow, half under the flickering bakery sign. James
He doesn’t see you at first. He’s looking at the ground like he’s arguing with himself.
“James” You call out, still out of breathe. He looks up immediately. His shoulders are tense, eyes sharp. Like he’s been waiting.
His gaze lands on you, narrowing with concern. He steps forward quickly, hand reaching out on instinct before halting just short of touching you. “Sweets, you okay?”
You nod too quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I just—”
But your voice betrays you. It's thin. Unsteady.
His brows pull together. “What happened?”
You hesitate. “I think… I think someone was following me.”
“Where?” he asks, instantly alert. “Where exactly?”
“I don’t know,” you say. “Back on Hemsworth. Maybe earlier. I didn’t see a face. Just—heard footsteps. It could’ve been nothing.”
James takes a few steps away, peering down the sidewalk. You know that look—like he’s slipping into some version of himself you haven’t met yet. “I’ll check—”
“No,” you say, reaching for his arm. “Don’t.” His eyes meet yours again, searching.
“There’s no one now. And if there was someone… they wouldn’t still be standing around waiting to be caught, right?”
He doesn’t answer. Just studies you like he’s trying to read more than you’re willing to say. “Please,” you say, quieter. “I just want to go inside.”
After a beat, he nods. Gently takes the bag from your arms like it’s instinct. The touch makes something in your chest ache.
The doorbell jingles as you both step inside. Warmth spills over you. Bread and sugar and safety. But it doesn’t chase away the cold in your stomach.
James sets the bags on the counter, then hands you a glass of water. “You sure you are okay?” You slip slowly, trying to calm your trembling hands before nodding. “Yeah, yeah.”
You glance at him. He runs his hand through his hair, visibly torn. It looks like he is wrestling with something. You watch as his mouth opens slightly, like he’s going to say something – but doesn’t. And just like that, the fear creeps back in—but a different kind this time. Maybe this is it. Maybe this is the part where he tells you it was a mistake. That last night was too much. Too soon.
Maybe he waited here not because he missed you—but because he needed to end it before it went further. You assume the worst—because it’s easier than hoping. You watch him battle something inside himself. Like it’s taking everything in him just to stay put.
So, you try to defuse the tension. You clear your throat. “So, I’ve been thinking about renovating the bakery.”
Bucky’s head snaps up at that. “Really? I thought you loved this place exactly how it is.”
You nod. “Yeah, but.. change is good, right?”
A smirk tugs at his lips, “Sweets, you once threatened to track down a customer and burn their house down because they moved a flower pot.”
“I - The pot is supposed to be by the window so it gets enough sunlight, everybody knows that.”
He lets out a laugh, and the sound steadies you a little.“Okay, but why the sudden change of heart?”
“Well,” you shrug, “I’ve saved up. Thanks to someone who keeps stuffing the tip jar every time they visit.” You point an accusatory finger at him.
He looks away, feigning innocence. “Could be anyone.”
“With hundred-dollar bills? Seriously?”
Bucky chuckles innocently.
Silence falls again, but this time, it’s heavier. That uneasy weight presses down again. James is still fighting something. Steve was right—if he wants this, and God, he’s never wanted anything more—he can’t build it on lies.
But the fear that the truth will destroy it—that you’ll walk away—that fear is choking him. Still, he tries. “Y/N,” he says, voice low. “I need to talk to you about something.”
One look at him, and you know it is killing him to get the words out. Why was it so difficult for him to break your heart? So, you make it easier for the both of you. “James, you don’t have to say it. I know.”
Bucky’s eyes widen. It couldn’t be, right?
You took a deep breathe before continuing, “I understand if last night didn’t mean anything. It was late. You had just come back after so long and were clearly in a rough space. I just want you to know, it’s okay. I’m okay. I mean, I know we didn’t say anything about what it was… I didn’t expect anything. It was late, we were both tired, and emotions were—high, and that happens sometimes, right?”
You let out a nervous laugh. It sounds awful. Tight. He takes a step toward you, eyes narrowing.
“Because I don’t want to make this weird,” you continue, forcing a smile that trembles at the edges. “We’re friends, right? And I hope that doesn’t change. I sincerely hope that. So if that’s where you’re at,” you rush on, “if you’re standing here because you want to say it was a mistake, or that we should just pretend it didn’t happen, or that you’re sorry—please, just say it. I can take it. I’d rather you just be honest than—than stand there looking like you’re trying to figure out how to break bad news.”
“Stop.” His voice is low. Firm. Not angry—urgent. You freeze.
He takes another step closer, and now he’s right in front of you. Close enough to feel the warmth rolling off him. Close enough that his voice drops even lower when he says— “Stop talking like that. Like it didn’t matter. Like you didn’t matter.” You blink, lips parting—but no words come out.
“It meant something to me,” he says. “It meant everything to me.”
Your heart stutters. “James…”
He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated—but not with you. With himself. With this moment. With whatever war’s been playing out behind his eyes since the second you arrived. “You think I’m trying to figure out how to walk away from you?” His eyes are on you now—unflinching. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to stay.”
He takes a breath. “I’m not good at this. I never have been. I screw things up. I keep things in. I second-guess the people I care about because… I never really let myself care before.” You can’t breathe. Not properly. “But last night?” he says, shaking his head. “I didn’t get caught up. I didn’t lose control. I chose it. I chose you. Every second of it.”
Your chest is tight now, full of too much and not enough at once. He exhales, shaky. Runs a hand down his face. “You think I could just forget what happened? That I could hold you like that and not have it break something open in me?”
He reaches out—hesitant still, but when you don’t move away, his hand finds yours. “I could never think of it as a mistake,” he says. “You could never be a mistake.”
You look at him—really look at him—and your heart stumbles over the truth that’s been sitting in your chest for hours. “I was scared it mattered more to me than it did to you.” You let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know when it happened,” you murmur. “Maybe it was the night you stayed after closing just to fix the jammed drawer, or when you started learning the names of all my regulars like it mattered to you. Or maybe it was way before that, when you started showing up like clockwork, always pretending it wasn’t on purpose.” You lift your eyes to his, voice gentler now. “So if you’re scared, you’re not alone. I’m terrified. Because you matter to me in ways I don’t know how to say without sounding like I’ve already given you too much of me.”
And his thumb brushes your knuckles like he’s grounding himself with the contact. You don’t say anything.
Because suddenly, standing there in the warm light of the bakery, your hands tangled together, everything feels…right.
James steps closer. And before you can even catch your breath, he kisses you—soft and warm and real. You smile into it, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him back like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
When you part, you laugh quietly. “What was that?”
His smile is so warm it could light up the world. Yours, especially. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the day you pulled me under your ridiculously floral umbrella.”
You squint at him. “First of all, my umbrella is beautiful. Second--creepy much?”
Bucky wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer, “You know you love it.”
And you do. He will never know just how much you love it. Love him. Standing there in the heart of the bakery, wrapped in his arms, your faces close enough to count the freckles on his nose—you love all of it.
But you don’t know the war raging inside his mind. The things he hasn’t said. And the truth he was still hiding had teeth—and it was already circling the edges of everything you’d just begun to build. You just didn’t know it. At least not yet.
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vermont-writes-fanfic · 10 months ago
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Her Special Maid
Chapter 1
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Request:No
Warning: Kidnapping, the girls wanna kill you at first, nothing else tbh
Characters:Alcina Dimitrescu, Villager!Y/N
A/N: This has been giving me a little trouble but I believe it’s ready! I hope you all enjoy and I apologise for the weird cut off 😅
Directory: Prologue, Chapter 1 (You are here)
The warmth seeps through your clothes and into your bones on long the chill of mid winter right out of your body, the houses in the village are never able to be this warm no matter how high the fires roar.
“Who is this?”
“What are you doing in here?”
“You’re pretty~”
Three disembodied voices echo out in the large foyer and as you look around you see nothing and no one. That is, until a mass of flies tumble down the stairs and splits into three smaller masses, and surround you in a swirl of buzzing insects.
“It doesn’t matter if she’s pretty, she's uninvited.”
“What does she have in her hands?”
“Give it here!”
Your arms are tightly wrapped around the box, eyes wide in fear and confusion at how a mass of flies is talking at all. The feeling of hands prodding at your body and pulling at your shoddy cloak makes you flinch and step back,a sharp push lands you on your bottom but you have no time to react as you are pulled by your cloak. You slide across the floor being slammed into walls and tables, the only thing you can do to minimize the bruising is to curl up and wait for the world to stop moving. Finally, you come to a halt in an even warmer room, in the centre is a large chair by a wooden table and a fireplace, one that rages so large you think if it was in the bakery it would burn the building down. In the chair, sits a woman with pale skin, dark curled hair, a large wide brimmed hat, and a slightly off-white dress. She doesn’t strike you as odd until you realise how tall she is not only in comparison to the girls that this mass of flies had turned into, but to yourself.
“Mother, I bring you a trespasser.”
“We caught her snooping around in the foyer,”
“She’s a thief Mother! Look what she has in her arms!”
From the point on the floor, you can see a cloud of smoke puff into the air in front of the woman before dispersing. She sets down something on the table before speaking in an elegant voice.
“Very well done daughters,” She says as she stands, her tall form easily towering over you and her daughters. As her golden eyes land on your form they widen and her scarlet lips pull into a smile.
“Oh? Let her up.”
Doing as they are told, the hold on your arms is let down and you quickly sit up straight still cradling the box in your arms.
Her glowing eyes capture your attention for a moment rendering you unable to look away from their intense gaze. When you come to your senses, you quickly bow your head, heart pounding in your chest at the realisation of who exactly you were just staring into the eyes of. This is one of the four lords appointed by Mother Miranda,your mother told you this is where she lived but the reality of the situation you are in catches up with you like a slap to the face. You entered the home of a Lord uninvited, in possession of something that belongs to said Lord and then had the audacity to stare into her eyes and gaze upon her form. Your heart beats ever quicker in your chest as your breathing becomes ragged, the feeling of the silver pegs of the box as they dig into your chest anchors you. If you weren’t holding the box so close to you, your hands and arms would be shaking with nerves. The sound of her authoritative voice snaps you out of the stupor of fear you were in.
“Stand up girl,”
Doing as you were commanded, you use one arm to lift yourself up onto shaking legs and properly bow your head to her, eyes fixated on the tips of your boots which peek out from under your dress.
“Look at me when I am speaking to you.”
With a small amount of fear you slowly look up to her, golden eyes locking with yours as she speaks. The air of her authority, her power of overwhelming and enchanting all at once as she looks down at you.
“Who are you, and why have you entered my home uninvited?” She questions you, taking a sip of wine from her glass.
“I-I’m the baker's daughter from the village, I found this box and The Duke s-said it belonged to you.” You hold out the box as you speak, hands shaking slightly as you hold it up to her taller figure.
Her eyes leave yours for a split second as she takes the box. She has been looking for it for a week, assuming her brother stole it to get back at her for something she said to the incompetent fool.|| As her gaze drifts form your own, you find that you can breath a little easier, your chest rising and falling as you attempt to slow your rapid heart rate.
“Where did you find this?”
“In the snow, on the way b-back from the mill. I-I only found it today on my walk, it must’ve been buried in the snow.” You respond, stumbling over your words every now and then as the three girls around you gaze at your form with a predatory gaze. They remind you of hungry wolves stalking their prey from a dim treeline.
“And you thought to bring it here, knowing who lives here?”
You can only manage to nod your head, her tone almost condescending as she questions you. What else could you say? You knew that it was dangerous to come here of all places, even if it did belong to her. You then entered uninvited only because the door opened, and for all she knows you could have stolen it some how. The look on her face as she looks down to you again says it all: Are you brave or just foolish?
“What will you do with her mother?” The girl with brunette hair asks, walking forward a little.
“Let us hunt her, she will make a fine addition to my canvas!” The blonde spins her sickle in her palm, the blade smeared and layered in the blood of too many to count.
“No! She’s too pretty for that mother, let me keep her!” The last daughter says, her red hair draped over her shoulders a fiery contrast to the brown and crimson staining her cheeks and lips.
They spoke as if you weren’t in the room and you can’t help but shrink back as they fight like starving animals over who would get to do what with you. When you watch closer though, you can’t help but think of how they remind you of your own siblings hungry for your mother and fathers attention whenever they could get it. Despite your situation the scene brings a smile to your face, though it is all but snatched away from you when the woman silences her daughters with a single call, and relays her decision.
“Daughters. This young maiden is a guest in our home and has done me a great favour, we don’t feast on our guests. You are the bakers daughter, yes?”
“Y-yes ma’am,” The words leave your mouth quickly, afraid that if you keep her waiting to long she might change her mind.
“Girls, clean yourselves up. We will be keepin her as a guest for this evening. Do you enjoy tea?”
An amused smile pulls at her lips as she watches your eyes widen and your head tilt ever so slightly to the side in visible confusion. Only moments ago you where about to be killed or worse, and now she is treating you like a revered guest of honour. You watch as she sets the box down on a tall dresser next to another one similar, but clearly newer made.
“Tea?” All you can do is echo the last word of the question, the disbelief not quite shaken from you yet.
“Yes, or perhaps you would prefer coffee?”
“N-no ma’am, tea is perfectly fine, thank you.”
Now that you have shaken out of your stupor you answer her quickly, you’d never been fond of coffee. You liked the smell but drinking it makes you anxious and tired all at the same time, you’re father and eldest sister seemed to be addicted to it. She walks past your still shaking form and opens a door bending down under it’s frame to exit.
“Come.” It’s a single command that has you tripping over your feet to follow behind the larger woman. You are lwad down a series of hallways before you enter a decent sized room with a hearty fire in the fire place, two couches facing eachother, a table in the centre, a piano off to the side and several other furnishings throughout the room. She gestures to a seat across from where she seems to be heading and she pulls on a little string.
As you sit down, you realise that once again you are in the presence of the Lady Dimistrecu, in her home where young ladies are said to be taken and never seen again. You feel her gaze land heavy on your body once more and can’t help how your cheeks begin to flush under such an intense gaze. It’s as if she is sizing you up in some manner, those golden iris’ mapping out your every detail. Suddenly you are very aware of how messy you must look, you had come in from the winter cold and been dragged around before seeing someone of such high power. Your cloak is covered in dirt and flour from using it as an apron back at the bakery. Your face has bits of flour and the white powder somehow landed in your hair, the messy bun nearly falling out now after having been slung into walls and drug across stairs and halls. Summoning what little courage you have left after the series of events, you speak up.
“Ma’am, may I be excused to the lavatory?”
“You may, I will have Daniella take you,” The moment she says this, the girl with the red hair appears and eagerly takes your hand pulling you out of the room.
“What’s it like being the bakers daughter? Have you met any cute manthings in the village? What are Uncle Heisenberg’s lycans like when hunting?”
The entire walk to the restroom she asks you question after question like an eager child. She must be the youngest of the three, the way she was acts reminds you of your own little sister who has been at school for the winter, most of it anyway. Tomorrow she is going to come back for a short break, when the blizzards are to happen and snow people in. Your brother will be starting next year, he is sure to be a menace if he isn;t interested in what they are teaching him. Ever since he was 4 you’d been homeschooling him and teaching him how to speak and use his manners. Because of you he is one of the msartes children of his age in the village, not that there is much competition between 4 year olds to begin with.
“Here you are! Don’t take too long or mother might send Cass to get you!” Daniella’s cheery voice snaps you out of your thoughts as she stops infront of a door.
“Ah, thank you…I will do my best not to take too long.” You enter the bathroom and stand infront of the mirror and begin to right your appearance. You start with taking off your cloak, you lay it across the sink and beat off the flour and sugar the best you can making it look a little more presentable. After doing the same to your pants and your shirt, you use a small bit toilet tissue to wipe the flour off of your face before wetting your hands and slicking your messay hair back into a neat tight bun. The ribbon you use is worn and has seen better days, but is all you have for the moment and so you will need to make due with what you have. Giving yourself a once over in the mirror you crack a small smile, it’s not easy cleaning up the look of a baker with just water and some cloth but you did well. You wrap your cloak around you waist before finally turning to leave. As you walk out the door you nearly collide with the brunette from earlier, quickly you bow your head in apology only to be met with a single question.
“Why do you smell like honey cakes?
End Note: This was a little on the back burner because I’ve been planning other writing but I hope you all enjoy!
Total Words Count: 2,255
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djljpanda · 1 year ago
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Can you do the self aware CRK for White Lily Cookie:
Imagine the magical girl!Baker (Sailor Moon or Precure-like) to meet White Lily Cookie
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{Spoilers For Beast-Yeast}
Now while White lily cookie was looking into on the truth she had heard stories not of witches but a baker.
White lily was confused at first as that to many they believe that it was only witches who made them, so what are you. In White lily’s dreams she can see you and she wanted to know more so bad. What was keeping you two apart?
Some say your aesthetic does look like one of a magical girl but you kind of brush it off. That was until you were playing cookie run that was when a cookie who shouldn’t be out yet came into view, now looking at it everything looked different where was all your cookies?
For white lily cookie she was amazed by you as for now she can stare up at you with a smile. Now how does she get you here.
If you ever do go into cookie run, before the true events of the story. White lily cookie tries to keep you a secret from everyone as she would sneak off to see you, her baker. You are more magical in person and she couldn’t take her eyes off you.
She had tried to ask you about cookie life but at the time you didn’t have a good grasp on it, you didn’t want to tell her the truth just yet, or you didn’t want to ruin the timeline.
During this time you and white lily Cooke had formed a bound and I believe that’s how you notice white lily Cooke would being spilt. So with your powers as the baker you used all of it to protect your precious white lily cookie hoping one day to see her again.
In white lily cookies dreams you and her are together building a kingdom where every cookie is happy along with her friends. Deep down she knew all it was a dream but she couldn’t be to happy.
So when she awoke and saw you there along with pure vanilla cookie she started to apologize but mostly to you as she felt like she failed you, you were just happy to have her back.
As you want the white lily Cooke you remember meeting for the first time. She was a bit shy at first but thinking you might have been hurt from your decent to earthbread she tried to help you. She was still a bit shy but as you started taking to her she opened up more and more.
You are just happy to have White lily cookie here with you.
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munv · 6 months ago
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You’ve always loved baking. Whipping things up in the oven, the sweet pastries you’d spend your time designing, and the sweet faces that came along with it.
It was only natural that you would become a baker. And you had a just as sweet boyfriend to go along with it.
As intimidating he looked, and at some point he drove away customers, you found a way to work around it.
Zoro was a sweet boy at heart, you knew this. No matter how calloused his hands seemed from training, or how his smile would become nightmare fuel and send a poor old lady into cardiac arrest, and not to mention his blunt way of speaking.
That was just how he was.
Yet, when he stepped foot into the kitchen he was in fact, a force to be reckoned with. Not in the good way. The “I burnt water and it tastes just fine” way. Which was oddly specific but you couldn’t put anything behind him at this point.
You remember the time he first offered to help you bake pound cake, the guy told you he would watch it in the oven for you. Somehow he sliced and diced the kitchen???
“Zoro…why is our oven cut up into tiny pieces..??”
You were baffled. Really. WHY did he cut up your oven??. “It was too hot so I decided to cut it”
“USE MITTENS????”
“…oh well”
He looked like a dejected puppy that was just kicked into the curb, although he tried his best not to show it, you’ve been with hin long enough to tell. It was almost as if he didnt understand why you use mittens and dont end up cutting the oven into micro sized pieces everytime you bake.
A way to put it would be “utterly hopeless.” To say that he didnt take to that kindly would be an understatement. So in a way to prove himself in a way, he started helping out more at your bakery.
The only thing you manage to put trust in that he wouldn’t absolutely fuck up would be serving customers.
You never really liked having people work for you. Close friends came to help out every once in a while sure, but that was about it. No long term employees. To be honest, it felt better that way too. All you had to focus on was making food and ringing it up.
Although it was hard work, you knew with zoro helping out more often would prove to be beneficial.
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bellestalesoffiction · 3 days ago
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Baked with Love- Bucky Barnes x Reader
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Summary: Bucky enjoys books, he's found a new place that makes him feel a bit more at home
Warnings: none. Fluff
A/N: wrote this over a few days, its not much but a nice little fluff piece, enjoy 💛 dividers from @firefly-graphics
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The bell above the door sounded. The warmth of low chatter, soft melodic tunes and the smells of baked goods washed over Bucky as he stepped into his favorite book shop and bakery, Sinful Sweets.
The owner smiled and chatted with those at the display counter, motioning them to the register, catching Bucky in her peripheral as she turned. Her laugh like music to his ears as she offered a happy wave. Bucky offered a small bashful wave back before ducking into the bookstore half of the space. The weight of the modern world melted off his shoulders as he slowly made his way around the shelves, flesh fingers dancing along the worn spines of the large selection of new and second hand books.
The shop was divided in 2, the bakery when you first walk in, small wooden tables with cozy mismatched chairs lined the left wall with bathrooms at the back and the door to the kitchen along the right wall right behind the counter and display case that housed fresh baked cookies, cupcakes and other delicious treats themed around books and deserts from those stories. At the end of the counter was the register and  along that wall, near the giant window housing the shops name, was a gap in the wall with curtains pulled aside and a neon sign above that flashed the word 'BOOKS' in bright blue lights so you knew what you were going to find. Tucked away in the side room, lined with shelves, floor to ceiling and a few tables, were what seemed to be endless copies of both new and second hand books filled stories of all kind.
It was a kind of place you could get lost in.
There were a couple chairs scattered in the square space for folks to stop and enjoy a story. There were no windows, no register in this space, just calm. Bucky had spent hours in one of the armchairs before, only venturing out to the bakery for a hot chocolate and muffin before retreating back into the mess of stories.
Bucky had also taken to conversations with the shops owner, Y/N, exchanging thoughts on classics like the Hobbit or getting recommendations on newer series, to ease him back into the world. This place had become a quiet sanctuary, a place where he could breath and just be Bucky and not 'James' or 'Sargent Barnes' or 'Soldat' or 'The Winter Solider'. Even in therapy (with that God awful woman), this was one place he avoided talking about, she was one he didn't bring up. The owner,  with her bright welcoming smile and melodic laughter that made you want to join in even if whatever it was she laughed at wasn't as funny as she thought, was a breath of fresh air.
To Bucky, she was something that should be protected at all costs, hidden away. His slice of peace could be just that, peaceful, untainted by everything that burdens him. Even if he wished there could be more to it than just passing debates on which cookie was better chocolate chip or sugar cookies, or debates on if second breakfast and elevensys should be a thing, he wouldnt dare try, it would bring her too close and shatter the illusion he created where he was just a person and not something out of the history books.
As the day waned on and people dwindled, Bucky found himself gravitating closer and closer back to the bakery. With a quick survey of the room, seeing two women with a baby having coffee and a student in the back corner, he chose to emerge from hiding in his stories, a worn copy of the Hobbit in hand.
"There you are," a warm voice washed over him, "I thought I was gonna have to come drag you from the trenches myself."
She teased him gently, she could tell he had been through something. He didn't know if she knew exactly what he had been through, but she knew to tread lightly.
"Find anything new and exciting this time?" She smiled softly at him.
Bucky shrugged and held up his copy of The Hobbit, "Nothing new, but an older copy of the Hobbit closer to what I remember having as a kid"
"I'm glad you found that," she smiled warmly at him, eyes wrinkling at the corners from joy, her face softening and flushing slightly as she continues, "tell you what, bring back the last copy you found or a book to swap this with and be my guinea pig for the next batch of cookies and we'll call it square"
Bucky blinked at her, wasn't she losing out on a sale? He nodded slowly realizing the student had packed up and left in a hurry and the women were getting ready to leave, making him the last person in the shop.
"Besides, I like having you around." She called over her shoulder before disappearing to the back.
Bucky smiled to himself, yeah, this is definitely his slice of peace, and he's not giving this up anytime soon.
~1 year later~
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Y/N wiped down the counters of her little shop. Her favorite customer had stopped coming in a month ago. There was a whole fiasco uptown with the terror group the GRC called the Flag Smashers and Sam Wilson, formerly the Falcon, had been dubbed the new Captain America. She remembered watching fron her cramped apartment above her shop, spotting a familiar face in the background, metal arm out in the open making her realize the crush she had on the quiet man had been on Sargent Bucky Barnes, the Winter Solider. Where this may have terrified some, it only added to her want to help that man heal whatever it was that broke him and feed him as many baked goods as he would let her.
With a sigh and a roll of her shoulders to stretch her stiff muscles, Y/N made her way to the front door to flick off the open sign, stopping mid step and raising her head as the bell above the door sounded.
"Got any of those famous chocolate chips doll?"
A smile graced her face and her shoulders slumped as a breath fell out of her lungs sounding like a laugh, "of course I do," she responded softly, "but why don't you come sit while I make a fresh batch and tell me what you've been up too Bucky"
Bucky smiled sheepishly and moved towards her quickly, taking her hands in his before she could turn away, looking down at her. Y/N flushed and squeezed his hands sucking in a breath leaning back to blink up at him, swallowing hard, heart racing.
"I will tell you everything you wanna know, but first off I got a question for you doll"
Y/N nodded and flushed further, feeling the heat creeping up her neck and ears, "Y-yes?"
"Have dinner with me?"
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holylulusworld · 2 months ago
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No exceptions (4)
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Summary: He likes your guts and your cake.
Pairing: Mobster!Frank Castle x Baker!Reader
Warnings: mafia business, flirty Frank (he tries, okay), groping, mentions of domestic violence/violence against young Frank, sexual harassment (not Frank), protective Frank, violence, some fluff
Catch up here: No exceptions (3)
No exceptions masterlist
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It could’ve been such a nice day. It’s sunny, and you’re wearing one of your favorite pale blue sundresses. The bodice is cut in a sweetheart neckline that accentuates your bust. The skirt floats around your knees, and you feel pretty.
The delicate, ribbon-like straps every so often slide down your shoulders, but this doesn’t mean any guy can treat you like a piece of meat.
“Hey, sweetie, lift your skirt!” One of the rowdies in the neighborhood yells your way. “Show me that tight ass and pussy of yours. I bet your cunt tastes as good as your cookies!”
You ignore him as you do with most of the guys, treating women like they are nothing but a hole between two legs.
“Come on, show us some sugar!” His friend joins in. “We can give you the ride of your life, baby.”
You stiffen the moment Frank gets out of his sleek, classic black car. A 1969 Pontiac GTO. He barks at the young men, growling, “What did you say?”  Frank is halfway toward the guys before you get his name out.
He doesn’t hear you. All he heard was someone talking to you like you’re some slut they can use and throw away.
“I asked you a question,” Frank growls before grabbing the first guy by his neck. He slams him to the ground, making the young man cry out in pain. “That’s my girl, and you talk like that to her?”
“M…Mr…Castle,” the second guy stammers. He’s scared to the bones, recognizing the man holding his friend to the ground. “We didn’t know she was yours.”
“Well, now you know,” Frank huffs. He spits the man on the ground in the face and turns toward the second man. “Who gave you the right to talk to any woman like that?”
“It won’t happen again,” the man stammers. He’s shaking in fear when Frank gets his gun out to poke the man’s cheek with the barrel. “I swear. We are sorry.”
“I can see that.” Frank steps away, scrunching up his nose because they both peed their pants. “One wrong word and you are dog food!”
He tugs his gun away to make his way toward you. Frank smirks as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, making a show out of it. “How have you been, sweet cheeks? Did you miss me?”
“Why did you do this?” You murmur. “Everyone believes we are dating now.”
“We do, don’t we?” he chuckles, but you are not sure he’s joking. “Relax, sweet cheeks. I came here to check on you and the bakery. I did what I did because I hate it when men treat women badly.”
“Because of your mom?” You softly ask as you unlock the bakery, letting Frank in.
“Because it’s the right thing to do, Y/N.” His answer surprises you. “No man should talk like that to a woman.”
You nod and start with your routine. Checking on the tables, the display, and the floor before walking to the back. “I won’t open for the next three or four hours. I’m going to make some new bunny cakes for the kids.”
“Bunny cakes?” Frank licks his lips.
“Oh, yeah. I thought of making some soft little cakes with milk chocolate coating and dark or white chocolate decoration.”
“Only for the kids?” He asks, eyes drifting toward the ingredients on the counter. “I could try one or two.”
Glancing at Frank, you wonder if there’s a softer side to the ruthless mobster. He seems to be excited to try your cake moments after he threatened to shoot someone, and it’s confusing as hell.
“I like dark chocolate better.” Frank points at the chocolate, grinning as you tell him he can have some with dark chocolate only.
“Let’s make some for the kids and you.” You wink at Frank before getting to work. You’re not sure if he’s going to be helpful, but there’s no way you’ll get him to leave.
You work silently, accepting Frank’s help with the dough and testing your new product. He’s surprisingly good at rolling dough and eating cake.
“Damn good, sweet cheeks. I could eat a dozen more, but,” he pats his stomach and groans, “I’m full and try to stay in shape for you.”
You giggle when he playfully pats his belly again. Frank flashes you a smile. He scoots closer to grab your waist and quickly lifts you onto the counter.
“What are you doing?“ You squeak when he cups your face to press his lips to yours. He moans into your mouth, tongue swiping over yours as you get lost in the kiss. You close your eyes and wrap your arms around his middle.
Part 5
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we-rice-boi · 9 days ago
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Neighbor AU? (Zayne x Baker Reader)
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Now I have another thing I'm working on for one of my best friends who is a Zayne gurlie and I wanna get the plot out there so I can get it outta my head.
So tell me what yall think.
Anyways the prompt she gave me was New Neighbor Zayne x Baker MC. So what I have so far is you have a bad rep around the neighborhood for one reason or the other
(it's because of gossip pa moms so it isn't warranted but whitener.)
And Zayne is insanely popular because he's the new hot cardiac surgeon on the block.
So you plan to wow him with your being skills to make a good impression for once and hear he likes sweets so u think "jack pot".
So far no one has really approached Zayne because despite him being hot shit, the man is pretty intimidating with his aloof attitude. However, you, filled with determination, push through your fear of rejection and waltz up to his front door to welcome him to the neighborhood.
This is how you learn that although his dimerner can be cold, he isn't that bad. He's just a little shy. To you and your neighbors surprise, he warms up to you surprisingly quick. Reeled in by your top tier baking skills and staying for the riveting conversations.
It's still new but it's nice and slowly it starts to clear your reputation as well. However, it isn't all hunky doory because the pta moms begin to do their thing, weaving their web of half truths and petty gossip into the cardiac surgeons ear.
Now the question stands, will the cardiac surgeon stick with you or will he keep his distance in fear of drawing too much attention to himself?
....who knows I'm working on it!! Anyways lemme know your thoughts!!
-Processor Boo
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Divider credit: @cafekitsune
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ballad-of-birdy-lamb · 1 year ago
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Hiyaaaa!!! I’m on like some search for Atticus finch fics bc they are so rare and i am HUNGRY for some.
May i request an Atticus x baker + babysitter reader? Like his kids have been visiting this little bakery in town and Atticus decides to swing by to see if his kids ran off down there and meets reader?
I'm so full of love I could barely eat.
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Atticus Finch x Gender neutral! Baker! Reader Summary: basic romantic headcanons of Atticus falling for baker! Reader Warnings: mention of violence (not put in detail, just the actions Mr. Ewell does after the trial) Word count: 1.2k A/N: I made the reader a baker only since it felt more in line with your request. And you're so real for searching for fics. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Love isn’t a common thing for Atticus to pay attention to, especially since he’s so busy and a bit older. He’s got kids and their friends, work, and making sure everyone in his home is happy. There’s so much going on romantic love barely seeps in. It also was because he didn’t know how his kids would react to getting another partner, Jem didn’t need to think he moved on too fast from his mother or Scout persecuting the person he could have possibly brought home.
Every couple days he would walk home when he saw Scout and Jem running and begging him to take them to a bakery in town. It was quite odd that they would willingly go into stores without having reason. They always groaned when he brought them shopping, so it must have been a big deal for them to beg to go somewhere. He never took them on his own time since he saw it as no big deal, wanted to go home, and knew the prices were a bit high for the time.
It was one day that Calpurnia had stopped in his office to tell him she couldn’t find the kids and neither could Alexandra. He assured her that he would find them and told her to go back home, still shaken from not finding them. After work, he went around Maycomb searching for the kids before he stopped at the town’s bakery. He hadn’t been in it many times since the recession, and he didn’t feel the need to go into a store just for one thing.
When Atticus finally found Jem, Scout, and Dill, they were sitting at one of the tables, eating away at pieces of blueberry bread. He would go off on them the best he could and ask them how they got the money to even afford getting food from the place. Naturally, you would say you fed them since they asked so nicely.
Just the sight of you would cause him to hesitate to speak again. You’d go on about how sweet they were and how you gave them the food since the bakery couldn’t sell it but it was good enough to eat. Atticus would smile a little wider than Scout and Jem have seen in a long while, thanking you for not charging them. He’d get the two to leave, grabbing the bread and leaving with a small smile.
“Why are you smiling so much?” Scout would ask as they walked home, holding the bread in her hands. Atticus would shake off the question.
“I can’t smile?” He’d remark, patting her head softly as they continued down the road.
It would become more common for Atticus to go to the bakery after work, just going off to talk to you. Each day that Scout and Jem would wait for Atticus, they would look at the corner, waiting for him. And he comes from the other end of the road. Sometimes he would wait until he’s close enough to pipe up, giving them a spook sometimes.
Once the summer comes, they would try finding why he comes from a different area after work and would watch as he walks from the bakery. He’d be questioned an insane amount, specifically from Scout. Atticus would brush them off the best he could, telling them he was talking to a friend.
The romance would be gradual, he would come in to find Jem and Scout to get them home, jokingly telling you off for feeding them pastries before dinner. Of course, it wouldn't be the best joke since he isn’t very good with satire. Either way, he’d thank you for not charging them for the food and be off… even if he wanted to stay longer.
Atticus would stop by more often, simply talking to you about business, the normal old people talk. He would try keeping it casual enough to not make you uncomfortable since he isn’t too good with flirting, so even if he tried it would come off as awkward. Scout said it herself; the kind of humor Atticus tries to have can only truly be done well by a lady Finch.
You would naturally give Atticus the test pastries for him and his kids to try. You’d give him the job of tester since he’d come by so often.
It was most obvious to Jem and Scout as time goes on, they both knew it was because of you. Atticus’s gaze would linger on you, and he would hesitate to say they needed to leave.
One night when the bakery had closed, Atticus stayed back with you to make sure you could close the shop safely (at least that was his reasoning for it). He’d sit at the counter and watch you quietly go on about your day, the new pastries sold, and how things were doing back at your home.
When you had fully closed the shop, he would stop before you could turn away to go home and finally work up the nerve to ask you out. Even if Atticus had more experiences in life than he would prefer bragging about, he still falters with asking a woman out.
“I would like to take you out this Saturday…,” Atticus would draw on his sentence, smiling slightly, his hat held on his chest, close to his heart. Though he held the top of his hat, he could feel his fast heartbeat. “If you’re alright with the idea.”
Naturally, you would accept, and he would go home with a small smile, knowing that he could take you out. Atticus would bring you a plan to bring you to a nice restaurant, get his best clothes for the date, and get Aunt Alexandra to take care of Jem and Scout. Atticus could only hope they didn’t press him too hard on what was going on.
The date would go well, the food being nice and the conversations being the same. As calm as Atticus made himself out to be, his heart was pounding. He almost forgot how nerve wracking it is taking someone out. He would try his best being smooth about how he feels to the best he could, buttering you up but not enough to come off too strong.
Hiding how the relationship from the children wouldn’t be that prominent after several dates. Atticus never hides anything else from them, how he feels about you is theirs to know about since you would be around more often. Of course, they knew to an extent. Jem would just say he knows, and Scout would ask if he was too old to do something like that.
The relationship would stay nearly exclusive to the family, more so since he didn’t want word getting out and possibly getting someone on you for being associated with him. Though, Atticus is beyond loving to you. He’d still stop by the bakery to talk to you when you were free.
After the trial and with the rampage Mr. Ewell was having on anyone associated with it, he’d target you too. It would lead to Atticus trying to escort you more often from work and home. If Mr. Ewell continued his mistreatment of you, Atticus would suggest you move in with him. It would not only be for your protection but also because he wants you to finally live with him. He’s old, he won’t live forever, and he’d prefer living with you in his arms at night.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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river13245 · 2 years ago
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Can you write a oneshot were Penelope(criminal minds) has a bf who owns a successful bakery and Penelope tells the team about him and go to said bakery to meet him?
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Warnings: None just a bunch of fluff and niceness. I rather like this one. Thanks for the Request I Loved it.
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Running a bakery was not as easy as most people thought it was. especially when you need everything to be perfect and to run smoothly. You only ever had a few people working at a time and they were all teenagers just needing a job. They did their job well, it wasn't their fault that you were always making sure everything was perfect.
Today had been a busier day than normal, you had got up early because your girlfriend had woken up at a god awful time and the warmth that left the bed was enough to wake you. She of course had apologized but you reassured her it was perfectly okay while placing kisses to her lips and cheek.
As she got herself ready you did the same. However not before packing her a lunch and sneaking her some pastries into her bag that you had made.
Once it was time for the both of you to leave and go your separate ways she placed both hands on your cheeks and kissed you. It was a kiss that took your breath away because of how sweet it was. She was always affectionate, she was perfect in every single way. "Goodbye my love" she says softly as she grabs her bag that has her food. "Goodbye beautiful, be safe at work"
She nods and blows you a kiss before walking out of the house leaving you to go to your own job.
When you got there you walked into the kitchen area where you bake everything. Its a very big kitchen since you need to bake loads of pastries and make coffee, tea and a bunch of other drinks. You begin to make sure you have all the pastries you think you will need and once you are happy with the number you begin to grab at least one of each pastry to set up on the display so people can see some of your newer baked goods.
You were there fairly early so you had time to send Penelope a short text before reading until you opened.
Some of the workers had came at the right time and they said good morning to you and asked if there were any pastries that needed to get done first and when you tell them the plans for the day they nod. As they get started you begin to play some music on the speakers keeping it at a comfortable volume. Especially as people started to file in.
While someone runs the register you find your way around the tables and clean up as people come and go. Sometimes you would go into the kitchen to help them bake and monitor everything.
The place was busy for most of the day, you barely had time to text Penelope but when you would feel the vibration of your phone you always tried to check it and respond. However when you had your hands in dough you hadn't seen the text that she had sent telling you that the team and her were going to be dropping by.
You hadn't met the team yet but its something you have been wanting to do. Just that all of them rarely had time to be together outside of work. So while you had just put everything in the fridge and the oven to make your last batch of the day so you can start fresh tomorrow you heard the door open.
Everyone had already left and went home. You always stayed after so you could bake at least one batch of everything so tomorrow you didn't have to come in so early and be behind.
When you heard the door you turn around with dough still on your hands that you need to wash off you see your girlfriend with her team. "oh Hi guys sorry I will be right with you" you held up your hands slightly before going to the sink and washing it all off and drying your hands with a towel.
Finally you walk up to Penelope and kiss her cheek before looking at everyone. The man you assume is Morgan (aka Chocolate thunder) speaks first "who is this baby girl?" She laughs and if it were anyone else you would have not been happy with the nickname but since its Morgan you arent worried about it at all especially when she grabs your hand and smiles. "this is my boyfriend y/n"
All their eyes turn to look at you and one by one they hold their hand out for you to shake as they introduce themselves. First you shake Aarons hand, his grip was firm and gives you a small nod. Next was Rossi, his handshake was. Different it wasn't firm but it wasn't gentle either. Somewhere in between. As you shook their hands Spencer didn't hold out his hand.
You didn't make it a big deal because depending on the day you don't like to be touched a lot either. Instead you give him a nod and a small smile. "Its nice to meet you Spencer" he gives you a small nod "its nice to meet you too"
Emily is quick to look around and look at you "I know you're closed but could we get a pastry?" Everyone else seems to be hungry too as they begin to look around. "yeah of course what would you all like"
They all order tell you your order while you go and get Penelope's favorite and hand it to her. JJ is quick to say "awe that's the cutest" Penelope shoos her and laughs. While you go get everyone's order and hand it to them. "here you guys go. Lets sit down"
You all get two tables and push them together before sitting down. They tell you all about Penelope which causes Penelope to blush or laugh but the topic turns to about everyone's family and their own lives. Conversation was easy even with all of you there and eating. This felt like one of the most normal things that could happen, just a family spending time together.
Penelope was resting close to you with her head on your chest lightly, Spencer was sitting in between JJ and Derek, Aaron was beside Rossi, and Emily was beside JJ.
It seemed as if Jennifer and Emily were together but you didn't want to pry for information even if they were holding hands under the table. Spencer and Derek were wearing the same socks. Okay well not the exact same socks but Derek was wearing socks with the Tenth doctor on it while spencer was wearing the Tardis. It was fairly cute.
Eventually the dreadful time of night where they all needed to get home came. You all said your goodbyes while Penelope stayed by your side. Once they all left she turns to look at you and kisses your cheek. "tonight was really nice. Thank you for letting us keep you busy for a little longer. They all needed to get out and have a bit of normal after this case"
Leaning down to place a kiss to her forehead you nod "its no problem. They were all very lovely, also the two couples who aren't so subtle as they think they are looked like they needed to get out"
She laughs and walks with you to the car "we all know they are together. They just haven't said anything.
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kya-is-kool · 1 year ago
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Soooo I had a fic idea for ray! Might be a little long 😆 maybe one where ray and the reader are tg and she works at this bakery and ray and the guys are taking Stevie to meet her and he’s just so shocked that one of the boys has a boyfriend and it’s all just really sweet and cute!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒 ! : cuteeee, love it. ngl stories in which the reader bakes are scarce but too cute :).
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it was 9:00 am on the dot, you opened up the shop and got everything ready for the usual morning rush. you cleaned the display shelfs, restocked every single cake and cookie and sweet treat in the shop, prepared the oven for baking, and put on an apron. this was the typical routine you followed every morning, and as tiring as it was to basically run the bakery yourself, it was most definitely worth it to put a smile to many people's faces.
the imminence of the morning rush almost always excited you, because you saw the same usual faces each morning who you had grown to love. but what you didn't know, was that there were going to be familiar faces that normally didn't show up to the shop. 9:15; the first customer walked in. the bell at the top of the door let out a small jingle, letting you know someone has entered.
"good morning, ms. meyer !" you greeted, smiling amiably at the woman. she was well in her sixties, and loved sweets, and who couldn't respect that? she was a kind woman, and she payed the bakery quite a bit of money due to all the things she bought.
"why hello there dear," she responded, smiling the same way back. "it's a pleasure to see you so happy this morning."
"likewise, ms. meyer. so, what can i get you?" you queried, and at that she looked at the display shelf, pondering to herself.
"i suppose just the usual chocolate muffin, dear," she said, with a chuckle at how predictable that must have been. she had been ordering the same thing for nearly a year.
"well of course," you said, laughing a bit yourself before grabbing the muffin with a napkin and placing it inside a paper bag. "here you go, ms. meyer. that'll be $4.95"
"thank you, dear," she said back, as she handed you the money in return.
"enjoy your day !" you said cheerily, as she smiled.
"ah, you too," she answered, before exiting the shop. as the bell jingled once again, you went over to the kitchen to start making a cake that needed to be remade since you were running out of slices.
by the end of the hour, a total of thirty-four customers had made their way through, and you had flour and other baking ingredients smeared over your apron and face. that was when an unexpected group made their way inside. your back was facing the entrance, as you took the cake out of the oven to cool.
"just a second, i'll be right there !" you exclaimed, before you set the cake on top of the counter to cool. as you were taking off your oven mitts, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist. you jumped only a little, before chuckling.
"ray ? what are you doing here babe ?" you asked, an eyebrow quirked.
"i wanted to introduce you to stevie...that and i missed you. you've been spending so much time here, i wanted to surprise you," he responded, placing his chin on your shoulder and speaking into your ear so you could hear him better.
"cutie, and, who's stevie ?" you questioned, with a smile. you then heard a voice from behind you two.
"i'm stevie," the voice said. ray slowly let go, and gently spun you around so you two were facing him.
"oh, hey stevie. i take it you're a friend of the boys," you said, smiling at him. he seemed young, especially to be hanging out with ray and his friends.
"uh yeah...wow i just...i didn't actually believe ray when he said he had a girlfriend," stevie said, mouth slightly agape in disbelief and wonder. you walked over to him and the others. you did your handshake with fuckshit and ruben, and you all sat down at a table. you were seated between fuckshit and ray, and stevie and ruben were across from you.
"you didn't believe me. i told you i had a beautiful girlfriend," ray bragged, with a small smirk. i smiled at his compliment, and took his hand him mine.
"well, you guys look really good together," stevie said, a look of astonishment still in his face. you could tell the boy really looked up to ray. it was adorable.
"thanks; we do, don't we?" you said, turning to ray, grinning from ear to ear. he returned the same smile while fuckshit and ruben chuckled, and they both rolled their eyes at the how sappy the situation was.
"we do," he answered, before pecking your lips sweetly.
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𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐤𝐲𝐚-𝐢𝐬-𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐥, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞
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djljpanda · 1 year ago
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Since cookies are baked, imagine a human decided to try something unethical and mix insect and cookies and bake them to life. The result is a horrifying insect cookies that is barely sentinent and function like a hive. They are very agressive and is rumoured to be created by some evil god.
This could happen if you also have to remember that there are insect themed cookies.
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I don’t know if I’m remembering this right but if they are cookies and they are bug or insect themed shouldn’t have the witches used bugs or insects.
But baker was curious upon seeing how the local witches were making cookies and thought it was easy so they caught a fly and put it into a pot and upon seeing the creature they were grossed and freaked out by it they tried killing it but somehow it made its way into earthbread.
Now the cookies are confused and scared cause what is this creature that’s attack every cookie. Many hoped that their wishes should be heard and help find a way to get rid of this creature. Now baker makes their presence known as think of how Athena send or helped Perseus to kill Medusa, that what you are doing here.
Now the witches didn’t know what you did and lucky for you as you wanted to stay that way. But the cookies worshipped you as someone driven. And yes the cookies don’t know that it was you who made that thing in the first place.
Just know that after helping those cookies you had started some cult and who knows you might check up on them again.
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rogersideup · 2 years ago
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Nice to be Kneaded
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Chapter 18
Good Luck Charm
Series Masterlist
Previous part: Endgame
Word Count: 9,856
Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions of medical equipment, loss, abuse, PTSD, anxiety and depression.
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Your slippers shuffled against the ground as you stepped outside onto the porch. With a big blanket around your shoulders and a warm mug in each hand, you walked up to Steve who had been sitting on the love seat all by himself for about half an hour now.
His eyes were fixed on the wooden deck railing, but fondly found your face as you approached in all your comfortable glory.
"A hot latte for the hottie?" You said, handing him a mug of foamy, vanilla goodness.
His smile spread as fast as his cheeks blushed. "Thank you, baby doll."
"Anything for you."
After his gentle hands grabbed the mug from yours, you set your own coffee down for a moment sit next to him and wrap the blanket around both of your shoulders. He was quick to eat up your company, and shuffle closer to you for warmth.
It was that weird time of year where mornings and nights were cold, but midday was blazing. You were well equipped with leggings and a hoodie with thick warm socks that Steve was quite jealous of, while he was in a T-shirt and joggers. But your blanket, body heat, and the hot coffee warmed his body and his heart.
It had been a few days since half of humanity returned, and you were trying to find a good balance of giving him the space he needed to process the events and grieve his friends, time to reconnect with Bucky, all while trying to make sure you were there for him.
As of now it looked like cuddles and long conversations before bed, you sneaking off and working from 4 in the morning to around 2 in the afternoon, then coming home usually to an empty house since the two boys were out doing whatever Steve's and Bucky's do, then the three of you would have dinner together and you'd be back off to bed.
But today was different. You decided not to work at the bakery today because you knew Bucky was going to go tour apartments near by to see if maybe there was a place worth staying near his best friend for, and Steve would be on his own otherwise. Though he was perfectly capable of getting through a hard time on his own, it was always easier when the two of you were together.
With you settled next to him, his eyes fixed right back to where they were before. You thought he was looking out into the neighborhood, until your eyes caught glimpse of a tiny little creature. A spider spinning a web. Not just any spider, but an all black spider with a small red shape on its back.
A black widow.
You immediately understood where his brain was and what it was thinking about, you didn't even have to exchange words when he knew you saw it too. Together you just sat, sipped, and thought about your dear friend. But the more you thought, the more your heart hurt for Steve, so your mug was sat on the floor once again so you could wrap an arm around his shoulders and hold him closer.
Your actions made him grin, and his hand found your thigh. It squeezed in appreciation.
"Way back when we fought Ultron, we all thought for a brief moment that all of us would die in Sokovia. When I brought up that possibility, all she said was that she would never find a prettier view anywhere else than being that high up in the sky." He finally broke the silence. "I was admittedly a little scared, and she was calm as could be. Using her skills to make a positive difference in the world was all she thought she had. She was okay with dying as long as it was at the hands of the greater good."
You nodded, acknowledging that you were listening but understanding he probably wasn't looking for a response yet.
"Clint told us she seemed completely at peace with her decision, like there was no second question. She knew that's what she wanted. She died for the greater good. I've always been scared of dying in battle for any reason. I made peace with it, I accepted that it could happen, but I was always scared that it would. I know that's not what I want."
Now, you knew what this conversation was about. This is what's been looming over his head for months, the moment you knew was coming.
He finally said it.
"That's how I know I can't do this anymore." His voice dropped to almost a whisper.
Usually, those words coming from a lovers mouth were the worst words anyone could hear. But in this context, you were happy for him.
"I know you can't." You nodded with a sympathetic tone.
"You're not even going to ask me to clarify?" Steve questioned.
"I already know. I've always known." Your small, delicate smile brought him comfort. "Since the moment I found out that you were Captain America I've known two things to be true. The first one being that there was nothing you could do to scare me away, and the second being that your time in the suit was coming to an end."
"Seems like that came easier to you than it did to me." Steve noted, feeling lighter now that he's told you. "It's been looming over me for years, and it wasn't a choice I made lightly."
"Of course it wasn't." You agreed. "I've watched you quietly struggle with this since the day we met. All I've ever wanted for you was to find happiness."
"I had a sense of guilt giving it up, like people would die if I didn't keep doing this, but I know now that the truth is there was a time before me and there will be a time after me in which everyone manages just fine." He continued. "I've been at this for far longer than I think anyone expected, and I know it's time to pass the shield."
"I'm happy for you." You stated, your hand now playing with the hair on the back of his head. "I genuinely am. And I'm proud of you. I can't imagine any of your life has been easy, and choosing to try a new path that leads to an easier, more peaceful life is exactly what you've always deserved."
"I just want you to know I wouldn't have made this choice of it stopped me from taking care of us at any point." Steve stressed. "Our life together is now number one with no set backs. Please take this in the most humble and sincere way I could possibly say this, but a lack of income going forward is not anything we need to be concerned about. We're set, and any future kids we could possibly want are set."
You smiled at his words. "Honey, even if you had less than a dollar to your name, I'd still want you to make this choice. I also mean this very sincerely and humbly, but the bakery is doing really well. I would've been happy to make you a stay at home Dad."
"So this is it." Steve shrugged. "I'll go on one more mission to put the stones back exactly where they need to be, pass the shield over to Sam and be done. The last few days of being Captain America, then it'll be the first days of the rest of our lives."
"I've always thought Steve was cooler than Cap, by the way." You grinned, head landing on his shoulder.
"You're just saying that to make me feel better." Steve giggled, snuggling further next to you. "Thank you for all of your support. It means a lot to me. You've put up with a lot to accommodate what I do. None of it when by without appreciation."
"You do a lot to support me too, at this point, I think the bakery would fall apart without you and all the little things you do for us. They add up, and it makes a massive impact on the way everyone functions and business flows." You reminded him. "We're a team, Love. I'll always have your back and I know you always have mine. I can't wait to see what this next chapter looks like for us."
"I don't think I could properly express how excited I am about it right now amidst all of this chaos, but if I think about it for too long I'll cry." Steve giggled.
"It's okay, I believe you." You smiled.
"And now that the ball is rolling on the bakery in New York, I just feel really hopeful that I'll be busy regardless of the fact that I'm unemployed now."
You laughed as you moved your arm down to hold his hand instead. "I think a life with me is a life with the bakeries. I don't think that's considered unemployment."
"Can I apply for a job at Nice to be Kneaded?" Steve joked. "It'll keep me busy."
"Sure thing, I'll forward you the email you can send in your resume and fill out an application."
"Ugh I'm never gonna get the job." Steve pouted.
"Why not?"
"I haven't updated my resume since 1942, and there's a 66 year gap." He explained. "And the owner of the bakery is so beautiful, I'm going to be fumbling over my words the entire interview!"
Your smile widened, as did the swell of your heart. "I actually know her, I'll put in a good word for you."
"Thank you, Sunflower, that would be great." He smiled and squeezed your hand.
"...Stevie?" You questioned softly.
"Hmm?"
"We don't have to kill it, but that spider can't stay there."
Steve chuckled at your words. "It is pretty terrifying, isn't it?"
"Does Captain America protect people against scary venomous spiders?"
"Oh... did you not just hear the whole 'I'm retiring' part of the conversation?" Steve joked.
"Okay... will my big, strong boyfriend protect me against the scary venomous spider?"
"...but.... I'm scared of spiders" his voice jumped up an octave or two, and lowered in volume earning your giggles.
"Maybe we can just burn the house down?" You suggested.
"Yeah, let's do that." Steve agreed with a big smile. "Or we can relocate it together"
"Awwww!" You cooed unenthusiastically. "How about we wait for Bucky to get back and he can help us?"
"That's the best idea yet"
"At least you have a big, strong boyfriend that'll relocate scary spiders for you!" You jokingly enthused.
Steve's jaw dropped, but his smile and giggles prevailed through his feigned display of betrayal. "You know what?! That spider is gonna come bite you!"
"Not under Bucky's watch, it won't" You laughed.
"It's gonna come all the way over here and crawl aaaalllllllllll the way up your arm" With his middle and index fingers, they climbed up your arm with a feathery light touch as to tickle you on purpose. Your laugh was music to his ears as his hand made it to your neck, then he started tickling right at the base of your shoulder on purpose. "And it's gonna bite you right here for being so mean to me!"
As if it was the most contagious disease known to man, your happiness and laughter seeped into his heart and soul, and just being near you had him feeling the same way. Faster than he could process, you were both laughing as he one-handedly tried to fight off your attempts at giving him spider bites through the tiniest, gentlest pinches he's ever felt in his life.
The two of you were too occupied in each others chaos to notice Georgia walking across the street for a chat. Admittedly, she also got lost in the scene happening in front of her.
Your arms flying at Steve as uncontrollable laughter and smiles flew past each other, Steve trying to block your swift hands with only one of his arms. Then, his mug slipped out of his other hand and splashed coffee all over his lap, onto the blanket, and the mug shattered onto the deck.
For a moment, Georgia recoiled, fully prepared to walk away when Steve inevitably got angry at you for the the loss of a mug and a perfectly good cup of coffee.
But instead, she was pleasantly surprised when there was a pause in all movement and laughter, both of you looked down at the mess all over Steve and the porch, then your eyes met each others again, and the two of you bursted out in even more laughter.
"Oh no! Was that hot? Are you okay?" Your hand grabbed into his upper arm, questioning between laughter. "I'm sorry!"
"Not hot, I'm fine." He chuckled, patting the top of your thigh twice. "Don't be sorry! Let me get rid of this broken glass real quick so you don't cut yoursel- oh. Hi, Georgia."
"Hi, sorry to interrupt." She slowly walked up the steps.
"Oh my goodness, how are you feeling?!" You questioned, feeling indifferent about her approaching you and Steve.
"A lot better. I just uh, I just wanted to come over and thank you guys for your help. I don't remember much of what happened but Adeline from two doors down told me about it. You had no reason to help, let alone bring flowers and check on on me multiple times. So, again, thank you."
"We had reason to help," Steve cut in, remembering your sad years over your strained relationship with your once dear friend. He was committed to making this work for you. "whether you believe it or not, we care about you."
"I certainly understand that now." Georgia nodded her head.
"How has Michael been since he's been back? Is he adjusting okay?" You asked, having felt worried about him since the snap.
"He's been alright, it's been a bit of a shock to him but that's to be expected. He was focused on taking care of me but now that I'm better I think he's really processing the events that took place." She explained. "Steve, I also heard you got injured pretty badly in battle. Are you alright?"
Her concern had over his well-being had him admittedly surprised. "I did get bit roughed up but I'm a lot better now, thank you."
"I owe you an overdue apology." Georgia sincerely stated. "All the years you've been here, I wildly misinterpreted your character. It's clear to me now that I let the media, and Michael's opinion of you get into my head at the time you found your way to Greenwood. You're a good man, and I can tell you're an even better guy for the sweetest little lady in the whole town. I can tell you two love each other very much, and I hope you understand I only ever wanted what was best for her."
"I appreciate your apology." Steve nodded. "I think we both agree and see eye to eye on a lot of things, especially only ever wanting what's best for this sweet girl. But I'm not the only one you owe an apology to."
"I agree." Georgia nodded. She approached you with small apprehensive steps, then squatted down in front of your seat and placed her hand over yours. "Baby girl, I'm sorry."
You nodded, and swallowed the lump in your throat.
"I am. Really, really sorry." She squeezed your hand. "You are and always have been one smart, tough cookie and I should've trusted you to make good choices for yourself. I was wrong. I'm happy you have him, and I'm proud of the life you've created for yourself. It makes me happy to see you doing well. It's obvious that you two love each other very much, and I'm sorry for not seeing that until now."
"Thank you" You accepted. Though you would love nothing more than to have things go back to the way it used to be, Steve has taught you a lot about only accepting what's of value to you. Though him, you learned that the bare minimum wasn't the only treatment you should accept in life. He picked your standards up off the floor and held them above the ground. If Georgia wanted a place back in your life, she would have to fight for it. "I love you, and care about you so much. I always have, and I always will. I think this is a good start to reestablishing our friendship, but you know it's gonna take some time?"
Though this challenge was one for her to face, Georgia was proud to see you finally setting healthy boundaries for yourself. The version of you that she was friends with many years ago was a chronic people pleaser who couldn't get any words to leave her mouth that could possibly be taken badly. This version of you was much different, and far more healed and healthy.
“Of course.” She nodded in understanding
Standing up and letting your hand go, she turned to Steve once more. "And Steve, thank you for your service. I really appreciate and respect what you put on the line to save everyone we lost."
"No problem." He nodded before Georgia walked off right back into her own house.
Silence fell between you two for a few moments after her front door closed, until you broke it. "I never thought that would happen."
“Neither did I.” Steve stared blankly across the street.
More silence.
"Do you think she still would've apologized if she knew we were housing Bucky for the time being?" You questioned.
"Some things are better left unsaid." Steve shrugged.
More silence.
"I've been sitting in a puddle of vanilla latte for 5 minutes." Steve stated.
Then your eyes met his, looked down at his lap that was drenched in coffee, then back up at his face.
Once again, you two bursted out into laughter.
After some scrubbing, googling how to get coffee stains out of clothes, a shower, and a load of laundry later, it was like the coffee incident never happened.
Before you knew it, you and Steve were back in New York for a handful of different reasons. The first being location scouting for the new bakery. You dragged Steve around the city for 3 full days with a contractor and a financial advisor, touring empty business slots. Steve kept joking that you were the Prince Charming of bakery owners, you had a theoretical glass slipper and if one of the buildings didn't perfectly fit, it was an automatic no.
But eventually you found the perfect new home for the bakery. And wildly enough, it was in Brooklyn. The entirety of your search, Steve would make a little half-joke half-serious remark that everything good in the city was in Brooklyn. Sure enough, the moment you stepped foot into building, it was an automatic yes. You signed the lease right then and there, and the contractor started taking measurements as you sat in a pretty office with floor to ceiling windows signing paper after paper.
The only person happier than you about this decision was Steve, who had pointed out that the apartment he used to live in with his mom was just down the block. He also told you about how in building the bakery would now be in, used to be a little bodega where him and his Mom would walk to just to buy marshmallow sandwich cookies.
It made you incredibly happy knowing that such a special place to Steve, where he already had fond memories of getting sweet treats would now turn into a whole new place full of even sweeter treats. You'd like to believe that somewhere out there, Sarah Rogers led you to this corner location just to make his boy happy.
That same day, after all the paperwork was done and your wrist hurt from signing the lease agreement, you and Steve walked hand and hand through the streets of Brooklyn. The two of you had done this together many times before, but each time unlocked a special memory for him, and it always made you happy to learn more about who he was before the war.
This time he walked you along the route he used to take on his bike when he worked as a paper boy to put himself through art school. You passed by the apartment he lived in immediately after his Mom died, and surprisingly enough, it looked exactly the same on the outside. Then, you did what had to be done.
Hand in hand, you walked into a bodega and found the marshmallow cookies. You'd never had them before, but apparently they were one of the most popular treats in the 30's and Sarah adored them. After buying a pack of them, ripping them open and doing a little cheers, you each took and bite of the two crunchy vanilla cookies with marshmallow fluff in the center.
You could see the nostalgia flooding his brain, and all you could do was smile. It was the sweetest celebration you could've ever wanted for such a momentous occasion.
Then, you two went upstate for Tony's funeral.
Steve told you over and over again that you didn't have to go. He knew it would be difficult for the Avengers, and even worse for Pepper and Morgan who you'd never met. You were here for work, and already taking time to support him on his last mission as Captain America, and he felt guilty taking even more of your time.
But as he zipped up the back of your black dress, and you straighten out his tie, you reassured him that you wouldn't miss it for the world. He needed you there even though he wouldn't admit it, and you wanted a chance to see the Avengers again, even under such a terrible circumstance.
The two of you stated the night near the cabin after the funeral. The lake was gorgeous, and the cabin you rented was beautiful. It was quiet, quaint, and Sam and Bucky stayed the night with you guys as well.
You could tell the day had taken an emotional toll on them, where the boys used to bounce off the walls when they were all together, they just sat and held conversation instead. One by one the boys knocked out. Steve was first, he fell asleep sitting next to you on the couch. His head fell lnto your shoulder and his face nuzzled into his neck. Then Bucky lost the battle on the arm chair, leaving just you and Sam chatting for hours.
Conversation came easy between you, and you really enjoyed talking to him. You even got a little sad knowing that it was getting late, and Steve had a big day in the morning so you had to cut the conversation off and get him to bed.
Then, the monumental day came.
Steve's last mission.
He expected to have a lot of sadness letting go of such a monumental part of his life, but as he suited up for the very last time he looked in the mirror and felt like he barely even recognized the reflection anymore.
Your arms snaked around his stomach from behind and you rocked forward onto your tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek before looking at him through the mirror. Only then did he feel like himself again.
"Lookin' good, Baby." Your cheeky smile made an appearance. "Feelin' good?"
"Surprisingly, yes." He responded with a grin, his half gloved hands held onto your arms. "I'm excited to get it over with, so ready to turn a new page."
"I think Sam is going to be honored. You're making a really good choice passing him the mantle." You reassured.
"I think so too." He grinned.
"One last picture before you go?" You asked.
"Whatever you want." He agreed.
Like a proud Mom, you took a few pictures of the two of you through the mirror, and a few of just him. Then, you, Steve, Sam, Bucky, and Bruce all met up at the smaller time travel machine that Bruce put together and got ready for Steve's last run.
You waited patiently as they briefed, powered up the Time Machine, and got all of their odds and ends in place.
Once it was good to go, everyone got a hug just in case, except for you that got a hug and a kiss. What could he say? You were just special like that.
"Still got it?" You asked, as always before sending him off.
"Always!" Out of his pocket, he pulled the $20 between his fingers to show you before putting it back in. "Got a little something extra this time too"
Steve grinned as he picked up mjolnir, knowing it was the first time you ever saw him wield the hammer. Then, the cheeky little shit winked at you, earning a laugh and a shake of your head.
"Good luck, baby. It's only the weight entire timeline as we know it on your shoulders, so, no pressure." You smiled.
"No pressure at all, easy peasy." He agreed, stepping onto the platform.
"Go get 'em Cap. Love you!"
"Love you more."
Then you had the greatest privilege of all, saluting the captain for the very last time.
He smiled, nodded, Bruce counted down, then he was gone.
Of course time worked differently for the person time traveling, so even though he was only gone for about a minute or two for you, for him it was hours.
You and Bucky both knew what was about to happen, so the two of you took a physical and mental step back as you waited for his arrival home.
Bruce counted down once more before bringing him back, and you saw him immediately. He purposefully arrived away from the machine, wanting to have a special moment alone with Sam.
He sat alone on a bench looking out onto the lake, no longer in his suit, but in some of his old clothes he got from his place a few years ago. Shield in hand, but in a leather case.
"Where is he? I don't see him?" Bruce questioned.
"Well bring him back!" Sam panicked.
"I did, I thought I-"
"Then where is he?"
"Guys." You cut in. They both stopped and looked at you. Then you pointed at the bench. "Over there."
Both of them looked at you with a confused expression on their face, until Bucky elaborated. "That's for you, Sam."
"Me?" He raised an eyebrow.
"You" you confirmed with a prideful grin.
He hesitantly made his way towards Steve, and watched the conversation from a distance. There wasn't very many words that needed to be exchanged, but even just thinking about how Steve was taking his life into his own hands and making such a big change for the happiness of his own self for once had you choked up.
Just a few weeks ago, he couldn't even fathom fighting for himself. Now, he had moved an entire mountain for his own future.
While this was happening, Bucky filled Bruce in on what was going on. You could hear their conversation, but your eyes never left Sam and Steve as you leaned against a tree.
A few moments went by before the two boys shared a nice hug, Steve stood up without his shield and made his way over to you.
Without a word and a big smile on his face, he reached his hand out to hold yours. Your connected arms swung as you made the shirt walk back into the cabin.
It wasn't until you both stepped inside and closed the door behind you that your arms flew around his neck and his lips pressed against yours.
"Congratulations, Baby!" You said enthusiastically.
"Thank you, Sunflower!" His smile was so uncontrollable he couldn't even get his lips to close enough to kiss you again even if he tried. "Couldn't have done it without you."
"I brought something to celebrate" You noted with a smile just as big as his.
"Champagne?" He questioned.
"Even better," you denied, walking away into the kitchen before pulling something out of the cabinet. You hid it behind your back before approaching him again. "Hold out your hands!"
"Okay" he giggled.
Swiftly, you placed a package of marshmallow cookies in his hands and his smile widened.
"I've been thinking about your Mom a lot since I got the place in Brooklyn, and I was thinking about how happy she would probably be if she knew you were taking a step down from fighting literal wars, going to space, and time traveling." You explained.
"Oh, if she knew anything about what I've been up to since she's passed, I think I would've given her a heart attack." Steve agreed, feeling a bit emotional knowing someone has been thinking of her just as often as he does.
"She deserves to be included in this celebration, considering she made you, and you've been worrying her from her peaceful rest since the moment you lied on your enlistment form."
"That, she does." Steve agreed and handed you a cookie before grabbing his own.
You held it up a bit as you presented a toast. "To the Rogers finding peace."
He giggled at your words before tapping his cookie against yours and eating it. Amused that this was the second time this week the two of you had cheered and celebrated with marshmallow cookies.
Steve finished chewing, swallowed, then an expression you didn't quite recognize spread across his face. It was like he wanted to tell you something, but hesitated and was now internally analyzing the words before they left his lips.
"What?" You asked, cocking your head to the side.
"Did you notice I was a few seconds late?" He asked.
You knew there was a statement beneath the question he asked. The wheels started turning as you wondered what he was getting on about. "I did. A few seconds for us was a few hours for you... what did you do?" You raised a curious bow.
"You know, that essay you wrote about Peggy really stuck with me." He started, you immediately smiled. "Had me thinking a lot about how I found a lot of peace over the lack of control while being in the ice because I got to know what happened to her. She got married to a man I rescued in the war, had kids, lived a full life."
"I already knew that, because I wrote that essay!" You joked, earning a good laugh from Steve.
"Very smart! Remind me to give you a gold star later!" He chuckled. "But she never got that for me, so I took your advice and paid her a visit."
"You just saw Peggy?!" You questioned with wide, sparkly eyes.
"I did." He told you, still a little cautious in not wanting to offend you. "Obviously she was a little shocked because she thought I was dead, but we sat down and had a nice conversation about what had happened and what was gonna happen. But most importantly I met her kids, and told her about you and that essay you wrote."
"No way!" Your smile widened, and your hands found his shoulders.
"Yes way! She was genuinely delighted to hear about us, and gave her best wishes. She also wanted me to pass along a hello to you, and let you know that she thinks you're beautiful. Oh, and she’s that I get all the cookies I want whenever I want them.”
“Stop it, that’s so cute!” You squeaked. “This is like the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me! And you got more closure, which is incredible! What a great day. I’m so happy for you, but I’m also just so happy in general. What an honor”
“I love you, Baby." Steve stated with a big smile, hands pulling you close again when they found their favorite spot on your hips. "I'm so thankful every single day that I found you. You've been a beacon of light in my life, I wouldn't have ever made it here without you to guide me."
"I love you too." You sighed contently, as his arms wrapped around you. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. We deserve this life together."
"We've been through so much to get to this moment. Thanks for sticking with me no matter what. I know it was hard and painful, and definitely illegal at one point, but I hope now I can prove to you that it was worth it."
"You don't have to prove it. You already did. It's been worth it the entire time, and I'll always choose you no matter how illegal it becomes." You smiled and squeezed him tight. "You're the bestest, coolest, loveliest human I've ever met."
"I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you." He kissed the top of your head.
"You've gotta propose for that one, Love." You poked.
"I'm working on it!" He said defensively, causing you to laugh.
And working on it he was. Because even though life proceeded as normal when you made it back to Greenwood, there was still a lot happening.
Bucky found a cute little apartment that was perfect for him not even two blocks away from the new bakery in Brooklyn. It felt like the perfect middle ground of still being close to you and Steve, all while still being able to live where he wanted geographically.
Shortly after Bucky moved out, you and Steve headed out on a trip to California to visit your Mom. This was a tricky one for Steve, because your relationship with you Mom was a tricky one for you.
Although your relationship with her was something you were actively improving since she came back from the snap, Steve still knew that her approval of him didn't mean much to you. But he was still old fashioned in the sense that he still at least wanted to meet her, and ask her for permission to propose to you before he popped the question.
Whether he felt like her permission or lack there of would actually make a difference for him taking what he wanted was a wash, but he wanted to do it anyways just to be able to know that he tried at the very least.
This was his second time visiting California with you, and he loved it just as much this time around. You guys stayed in your childhood bedroom at your Mom's house that resided in a lazy town on the bay.
He learned a lot about you from the charm of the house alone. The pictures on the walls of baby you, teenage you, and early adulthood you. Conversations exchanged with your mom over breakfast where she never missed an opportunity to share her favorite stories of your antics growing up. He also learned a lot about your Dad because of how frequently he came up in almost every conversation, and he desperately wished he could've met him. Just from what he's heard, he could tell a lot of who you were came from him.
Every night, you and Steve would go out onto the dock to watch the sunset and listen to music together.
You shared stories with him about what felt like endless hours of you sitting on the dock with your dad. Back then, the hours felt long and gruesome. As if sitting and watching the little creatures in the water beneath you was some sort of torture, but as you grew up and towards the end of his life, it became a sanctuary. It was the only place he seemed to be truly calm and relaxed as his memories and executive function left him. By that point, you wished the hours were endless rather than having a metaphorical clock ticking over his head.
Then, when the moon was out and the sky was dark it would somehow evolve into you and Steve slow dancing under the stars.
During the day you'd take him out and show him all of your favorite old spots. Hole in the wall food joints, family owned ice cream shops, the tide pools, and even long drives up the coast to the same music you would dance with him.
It was relaxed, easy, and Steve passed your Mom's unspoken test with flying colors. He sneakily got her approval two days before you guys left California while you were in the shower.
She was so happy about it that Steve almost had to keep you away from her as much as he could so she didn't ruin the surprise.
Then, on your last night in town, you guys walked over to the dock just like every other night since you've been here. Only this time, it was a little later. Dinner ran late so by the time you made it out for one last night, the sun was already setting.
But it was okay, because when the two of you approached hand in hand, and he watched your face twist up with a billion different emotions when you realized that the dock was covered in flowers and lit up with the soft golden glow of dozens of candles, it was all worth it.
At first you were sad because you thought it was for someone else, and the dock was now unusable for you and Steve on your last night. But as he continued walking towards it, and his hand holding yours was shaking and a little clammy, only then did you realize what was happening.
He could barely even get a single word out, let alone present the ring to you and get down on one knee before you were already saying yes. But he was thankful for your enthusiasm, because it instantly took his nerves away.
The ring was perfect, the proposal was perfect, and dancing under the twinkling stars and amongst the burning candles was perfect.
Your fiancé was perfect.
Knowing that he listened to your stories and took them to heart, and incorporating a special place that reminded you of your dad into your love story made you weep happy tears and he held you close and swayed you to the music.
Happy tears seemed to be a common occurrence between the two of you recently, and each little drop was well deserved and worked for.
That night when you got back to your Mom's place, you didn't even have to tell her the news before she flung her arms around you and Steve at the same time in a big bear hug. It was safe to say she was over the moon.
Just to make things even better, that night you and your Mom ended up having a really nice heart to heart. A lot of the issues you've had with her since you were little were addressed, and she apologized for encouraging you to stay with your ex after she realized how bad the relationship actually was. For the first time ever, she told you how proud of you she was, and how amazing you were for the success of the bakery. She promised to visit you out in Greenwood again, and see the bakery and Brooklyn on opening day.
For a little while, your life had felt like an embarrassment of riches, like or was going just a little too well for just a little too long.
Especially when Steve set off on a personal journey of trying to discover who he really was without jumping from battle to battle. It felt like every day the two of you would set off on a little adventure to try out something new.
Between work going so well, and all the fun dates you were going it, it felt like a smile didn't leave your face for months.
Long drives to little towns in the area, pottery and ceramics classes, yoga, pilates, meeting new friends at bars, then getting dragged home and put to bed, hosting dinner parties with you little Greenwood family, then doing the same thing all over again but in Brooklyn with friends you had made over in the big city. It was exciting, new, and you'd never seen Steve quite so radiant before.
Life was easy for a while, but with highs came lows that couldn't be ignored. The closer opening came for the Brooklyn bakery, the harsher the deadlines, and the more stressed you became.
Focusing on one bakery alone was a full time job in itself, but adding in another one had you practically ripping your hair out in the final few months.
All the choices fell on you, all of the paperwork fell on you, and all of the management choices that still needed to be made for the Greenwood bakery were on you as well, and there were no amount of shoulder massages and support Steve could give you to change that.
It was pretty much accepted that the only way out was through, and it would get much much easier once the new team of employees were trained and the doors were opened.
However, the stress took a toll on your body and landed you in the emergency room one fateful night. For the past year, your periods had become more and more painful. The second day of your cycle every since month Steve would try his best to console you through the pain. Hugs, back rubs, heating pads, painkillers, wasn't enough this time around.
You were throwing up, full body chills, goosebumps raised on your skin, and he couldn't get you to uncurl yourself from the tightest little ball unless it was to roll around in discomfort or getting up to vomit again. As much as it hurt his heart to have to bring you somewhere that had such traumatic experiences associated with it, you tapped out. The pain was so bad that you'd rather go to the emergency room than deal with it any more.
Luckily, the worst part was sitting in the waiting room. You sat curled up on his lap, and he held you so snug to him, it's like he was trying to hide you away from all the awful memories. When they finally took you back, they gave you so many pain killers that you were higher than a kite for the rest of it. Lots of exams, two doctors appointments, and a few medical bills later, they decided it was your birth control that needed to be switched.
All was well until a few months later when you woke up nauseous, and ravenously hungry at the same time. Having pushed through it, and gone to work, you called Steve on your lunch break to rant about how grouchy you felt, and how everything was getting on your last nerve.
He decided to stop by and drop off your favorite food to cheer you up since you still had a long day ahead of you. When he gave you a big long hug to try and make you feel better, you started crying because of how nice he was.
That's when it clicked in his head that your period was a whole week late. He brought it up cautiously, and you both agreed that you'd be taking a pregnancy test after work.
Steve picked up a few different kinds from the store, and both of you separately processed what this all meant while waiting for the time to come to have a real answer.
By the time you had gotten off of work and Steve ushered you straight up the stairs, you had gone through all seven stages of grief, and acceptance for whatever the future held for you. Mostly because you knew that no matter what, Steve would be incredible, and you were ready to take on anything life threw your way as long as he was there to hold your hand through it.
That's exactly what he did. You took the test, flipped it face down, and brought it out into the bedroom where you snuggled up together and for three whole minutes, he comforted you and reminded you that it would be okay no matter what.
The timer he set on his phone went off, you asked him to flip the test over.
Both of you read it at the same time, Negative.
Your eyes found each others faces to gauge any sort of reaction. He saw your lip wobbling and tears pooling in your lash line, and you saw him trying his absolute best to hide every drop of disappointment.
"Hey, it's okay." He reminded you with nothing louder than a soft whisper. When his gentle hands tucked your hair out of your face, and he grinned just to bring you some comfort, you fell apart. "It's okay."
"I'm sorry" You apologized, shoving your face into his chest. You didn't know if the apology was for your emotions or the disappointment you were both feeling but left unspoken.
"Don't you dare apologize, my love." He said sweetly, protectively cradling the back of your head. "All I wanted was your health to be a priority, that's why the test was important. As long as you're okay, I'm okay too."
As always, you took his words to heart. You never expected to be so disappointed by the negative result when you weren't actively trying to get pregnant in the first place. You also weren't expecting to be so effected by the tiniest shimmer of sadness in Steve's eyes when he read the test.
Your period showed up the next day, but the thought of having a baby intruded your every waking thought for the next month. It felt like the only time you weren't actively thinking about it was when you were working, but even then, you'd read deadlines printed on papers and wonder if now was a good time.
But then you realized now was a great time. The bakery was set to open in just a few short months, then most of the responsibility would be handed over to staff who was training hard to handle it. Steve was doing better now than ever, and wedding planning hadn't even started yet.
Much like Steve didn't want to propose until he retired, you didn't want to plan a wedding until the bakery was open for business.
With downtime promised in the future, and a sparkly engagement ring on your finger that reminded you of your sweet handsome boy, you decided to just talk to him about the possibility of even just trying.
Just like always, Steve was a thoughtful guy. He choose all of his words carefully through all of your long conversations about the decision to have a kid. You knew he so badly wanted to say yes, in fact, you swore if he was a dog his tail would be wagging every time he even thought about it. But it was a big choice and a huge life change, he wanted to make sure it was really something you wanted and not something you felt pressured into since that one fateful day.
It took 3 more weeks before both of you were wholeheartedly committed to the endeavor with the agreement and the knowledge that it might mot happen right away.
The prospect settled in your mind, and you just enjoyed the journey while you allowed work to be your main priority at the moment. And with so many deadlines approaching, you really didn't have any other choice than to just let the universe work it's magic.
The closer opening day became, it was like the bakery had become your and Steve's child. The two for you spent weeks in the store in Brooklyn painting walls, assembling endless amounts of furniture, directing deliveries, and decorating the lobby to live up to the very high standards of the Greenwood location.
By the time the kitchen was fully stocked, employees were trained, and the whole space was perfect from head to toe, you were both exhausted.
The very last night before opening, you checked every last screw, every bulb in the bake case, every seam in the wallpaper, and quality controlled every last desert on a finalized menu, you and Steve quite literally laid sprawled out on the floor of the lobby.
Steve took a good look around, and was so incredibly proud of all the blood, sweat, and tears you shed to make your dreams come true. He knew that if his mom was around to see what this building had turned into if not her beloved bodega, she would be absolutely thrilled to have something like this in the neighborhood.
You laid flat on your back, looking up at the expertly painted ceiling mural and the chandelier, every crystal hung from it by the will of your own two hands.
Then, your rolled over onto your stomach, and your hand pat right in the center of Steve's chest.
"It's midnight, and I have to be back here at 4 in the morning. Maybe I should just have a sleepover." Your exhausted grin took over when you saw his sleepy face.
"You should get a few hours of real sleep before your big day, pretty lady." Steve denied, getting up off the floor and offering his hands to pull you up off the floor. "It looks incredible, you did an amazing job as always."
"It's funny that you think I'll get any sleep at all" You stood, then gave him a kiss. "I really couldn't have done it without your help, so, thank you, Baby."
"Anything for you." He smiled. "I can't wait to see it in the morning, I have butterflies just thinking about this place full of people."
"You and me both." You squeezed his hand. "You don't think the rug clashes with the wallpaper? And the chairs match the wood on the booths?"
"Stop, it's perfect." Steve put your mind to rest. "Just like you!"
"Yeah yeah yeah," you giggled, walking behind the counter. "I guess you're pretty cool too. There's a few cookies left from the test bake. You want some?"
"Wait! Hold on" Steve said dramatically, walking away from you and out of the store.
You stood there confused for a few moments, before he walked back in. Nothing had changed, but he did approach the counter.
"Hello, I'm your first customer!" He enthused.
You giggled, looking at the case that was empty besides 2 chocolate chip cookies. "Hi there, Honey! What can I get'cha?"
"One chocolate chip cookie please" He smiled.
You knew he was recreating the moment the two of you met, though that felt like lifetimes ago, you could never forget the vivid memory of seeing his handsome face for the very first time.
"Okay, but I'm giving you two, because I think anyone who orders one cookie is lying to themselves." You said, putting the cookies in a bag for him.
"Why thank you very much!"
"I don't think I've seen you around here before, are you driving through?" You joked.
"Something like that." He chuckled.
"Well I hope to see you around here again soon, and here are your cookies." You handed him the bag.
"How much do I owe you?" Steve asked.
"They're on the house."
"I couldn't possibly accept that" Steve denied, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. Out came the very same $20 bill the two of you have been passing back and forth since the day you met. You smiled and shook your head at him as he handed it to you. "You have a big day tomorrow, I think it's your turn to hold onto the good luck charm."
You accepted the pass off, "this doesn't mean I lost this argument, did it?"
"It totally does" Steve did a little happy dance.
"You're a cheeky little shit, but I love you."
He laughed at your statement, "I love you more!"
"I have a little surprise for you" You noted.
"You do?" His eyebrows raised.
Nodding, you pointed to an empty slot in the bake case. His eyes followed to read the tag, Sarah's Sandwich Cookies.
His big blues met yours again with the happiest puppy dog pout you've ever seen in your life, if that was even possible.
"What you said about your Mom really stuck with me, and I wanted to make sure her and her love for cookies were honored in a place you hold special memories in. So, marshmallow cookies are permanent and exclusive on the menu for this location." You explained.
He didn't have much to say, but he did walk around the counter and wrap you up in a big hug. "That's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you."
"I wish I could've met her." You noted.
"She would've loved you so much, probably more than me." He giggled from above you.
"Impossible" you denied.
He gave you a kiss before letting you go.
"As much as I'd love to stay here forever and ever, I really do want to make sure you get some sleep." Steve noted.
"We can go now." You agreed, heart nervously pounding in your chest. "hey, really quick do you mind checking the oven to make sure it properly cooled down while I lock this register?" You asked.
"Sure thing, sweet thing" he nodded.
As he walked off, you smiled to yourself and your stomach filled with butterflies. You let him get a few paces ahead of you before leaning into the doorway of the kitchen while watching him reach for and open the oven doors.
He checked the temperature of the internal thermometer, which looked normal to him, but then, he stopped.
"Hey, I think someone forgot something in here!" He shouted for you, not quite understanding.
"That's odd, what is it?" You approached from behind.
"A cinnamon roll, but just one, and it's on a... plate?" He looked at it again. "Did you guys even make cinnamon rolls today?"
You smiled and shook your head at his wholesome cluelessness, but all of his attention was directed at getting the cinnamon roll out of the oven.
"No, we didn't." You denied. "But why would that be there in the first place?"
"Maybe someone wanted to warm one up them forgot about it" He pondered before pouting at it. "I don't know if that's more sad for the cinnamon roll or the person who forgo-"
Then he stopped.
His eyes met yours and his mouth fell open.
"Why would there possibly be a bun in the oven?!" You continued questioning with a huge uncontrollable smile, even though you were positive he understood now.
"You're lying." His eyes went wide, smile slowly spreading across his lips as tears welled in his eyes.
"No I'm not." You shook your head again with a chuckle and walked towards him. Out of your back pocket, you pulled out a very positive pregnancy test and showed it to him. "I'm definitely pregnant, like, super pregnant."
"You're pregnant?!" He blinked back his tears, one fell right down his cheek. "Like, right now?!"
You wiped it off with your thumb as you laughed at his question. "Right now."
"Holy shit!" He smiled, his hands landing on your shoulders, gently shaking them very enthusiastically. "You're pregnant! We're having a baby!"
"We are, we really really are!" You shared his enthusiasm, shaking his shoulders right back.
"Oh my gosh! When did you find out?" He questioned, eyes wide and staring at you in disbelief.
"Three days ago, I would've told you sooner but I wanted to surprise you." You explained, wiping another happy tear off his cheek.
"That's crazy, this is so crazy." He chuckled, finding himself unable to stop the tears from dripping down his cheeks. "How are you, are you feeling okay?"
"I've been constantly nauseous and trying so hard to hide it." You giggled at your own confession. "But other than that, so far so good. Are you feeling okay?"
"I didn't even know it was possible to be this happy or this in love but for some reason I'm feeling both at the same time, and I don't know what to do with myself." He confessed.
You smiled at his state of emotion, and smothered his face in kisses as he processed the news you just told him. Then, the news sunk in and his arms wrapped around you, and he took his turn smothering you in kisses.
"I'm so excited to go on this journey with you, this is incredible" he cried happily.
"You're gonna be the best dad ever." You cheesed, squeezing him back.
With two fingers under your chin, he raised your head and pressed a long, loving kiss on your lips. His palm rested on your cheek, and you sleepily sighed at the comfort of being held by your favorite boy.
"God, I love you so much." He confessed once more for the billionth time that day. "This is the most selfless thing anyone could ever do for someone, and I get to spend the rest of my life spoiling you rotten every single day and I'm so happy about it."
"It was so hard for me not to immediately tell you" You giggled. "But it was worth it to see you cute little face."
"Now I really want to make sure you get some sleep!" He enthused. "Oh, also..."
He pulled away from you and reached into his pocket, then pulled out a crisp $10 bill and handed it to you.
"What is this for?" You questioned, unable to hide your smile.
"Extra good luck! 10 for you, 10 for me, 10 for cinnamon roll." He explained.
"Never in my life have I felt quite as lucky as I do right now." You accepted.
$30 worth of good luck or not, the universe sent you Steve Rogers, and that was the day you won the lottery. That made you the luckiest girl I'm the whole world.
"Baby, if you need anything, and I mean anything, you better tell me to get it done for you. Hungry? I'm gonna find you a Michelin star meal. Tired? You better believe you're getting a full body massage. Can't reach the top shelf? Ring a bell and I'll bring a latter." He told you, and you could tell he was being absolutely serious. "I don't want you lifting a single finger, and I mean it!"
You chuckled and shook your head. "Don't say what you don't mean, because I'm going to be needing you a lot of that's the case"
"Being needed is literally all I've ever wanted in life" Steve accepted your statement.
"Well now with our little cinnamon roll on the way, we're both going to need you more than you'll ever know." You kissed him, and wiped the last of the happy tears off of his cheeks.
"You're right, it really is so nice to be needed."
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The end 🌟🤍
@patzammit @bemysugarbean @buckymydarlingangel @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @differenttyphoonwerewolf @themotherof10 @talesofadragon @spikeluv84 @bitchy-bi-trash @crazyunsexycool @openup-yourmind @selella @kattreffic @benedict-squirtle @magnificentsaladllama @calwitch @avengersinitiative2012 @rogersbarber @daddywattpad4945
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dangraccoon · 6 months ago
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Earn It
Day 8 ~ touch starved ~ Wolffe x GN!Reader
Word Count: 783 Content: non-gendered reader, baker reader, mandalorian reader, break up, ghosting
Mando'a Guide: sarad - flower, blossom mesh'la - beautiful hutyc - cowardly *There is also two full sentences of mando'a within the fic which have been translated within the text*
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You could hear the doorbell of your small shop buzzing. You knew someone was trying to get your attention but you were practically elbow-deep in the dough you were kneading. And besides, it was 4:30 in the morning, you weren’t under any obligation to answer the door.
After three or four normal buzzes with short, impatient intervals in between, it became more incessant, the buzzes becoming longer and louder. However, you were fairly certain the latter was just in your imagination.
You huffed as you worked your hands back out of the dough, holding them aloft as you walked briskly to the door. You hit the button to open it with your hip.
“What in the Sith Hells could you possibly–”
As your eyes finally processed what they were seeing, your irritated interrogation stopped immediately.
“Hey sarad,” Wolffe smirked. He was in regular clothes, a bag thrown over his shoulder. He must’ve just arrived on-world. “Can I come in?”
“W-Wolffe,” you breathed, stepping to the side.
“Echo said you’d turned this place into a bakery,” he hummed as he looked around. “I mean, it was pretty much already one but I guess now it’s official.”
“Yeah,” you said again, cursing your apparent inability to say anything else.
“Still got that spare room upstairs?” he continued. The question seemed innocent, but the way his gaze landed on you sent your heartbeat racing.
“I- um, well, not exactly,” you stumbled. “Since I opened up the downstairs to be the bakery, my living room and kitchenette are now in that spare room.”
Wolffe nodded, though his eyes never left you.
You could feel yourself shying away from that intense, mismatched gaze, so you quickly returned to your kitchen, and back to working the large mound of dough.
Wolffe had followed you, leaning against the entryway to watch you work.
“That looks like a lot,” he hummed.
“It’s fine,” you shrugged.
“I-I could help,” he said. “If you want.”
You barked a laugh as you left the dough to wash your hands. “Yeah, Mister I-Can-and-Have-Burnt-Water,” you smirked. “Like I’m gonna let you in my professional kitchen.”
“I’m not that bad,” he scowled, though the hint of a smile tugging at his lips told you he wasn’t actually offended.
“Why are you here, Wolffe?” you asked abruptly, pointing your bench scraper at him. “You and I both know Echo already told you about how I rearranged my house.”
Wolffe scratched at the back of his neck. “Yeah, he did.”
“What do you want from me?”
Wolffe went silent, not meeting your eye. You sighed and went back to cutting and shaping small balls from the mass of dough.
“A second chance,” he finally murmured, moving closer to you until he stood at the other side of your workbench. “I-I was an idiot, sarad. I got scared and–”
“You got scared,” you repeated, setting your work aside and wiping your hands on your apron. “You disappeared. You went off on a mission with Rex and then had Gregor tell me you weren’t coming back.”
“Sarad–”
“Don’t ‘sarad’ me, Wolffe!” you growled, stepping around the table to get in his face. “You just show up one day and sweep me off my feet, calling me ‘sarad’ and ‘mesh’la’, taking me out on dates. Maker, you spent a year romancing me, and then when I say you could move out of Hunter’s house and into mine, you disappear in the middle of the night? And now, two years later, you want back in?”
He stood silent, never dropping his eyes from your fiery gaze, but his hand lifted, slowly and gently coming up to brush away some errant flour from your cheek. That briefest moment of contact sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t quite recall the last time anyone had touched you with such soft intent.
“Meh ni reta’naa’vaabir bic an,” he whispered, his hand still resting softly against your cheek. “Ibac cuy an ni reta’vercopaanir bah vaabir.” [If I could undo it all, that is all I could hope to do.]
Your breath was taken for a moment, but you quickly regained your senses and pushed his hand away. “Tion’jor ne’ret gar rejorhaa’ir ni ru gar ru’ba’slanar?” you hissed back in your native tongue. [Why couldn’t you tell me before you left?]
Wolffe turned away. “I have no excuses,” he said. “I shouldn’t have left at all and I never should have sent someone else to tell you. I was hutyc.”
“You hurt me, Wolffe,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself. “You broke my heart.”
“I don’t expect you to ever forgive me or trust me again,” he continued. “But I’ll never stop trying to earn it.”
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« Previous Day Next Day »
Thanks for reading! - River
12 Days of Christmas Master List DangRaccoon Master List Tag List Form Read on AO3
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Tag List: @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @winter-phoenix1995 @nomercyforthewarrior @padawancat97 @wishyouthetest @orangez3st @flowered-bicycles @error6gendernotfound @techs-goggles9902
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yourtypicalhuman09 · 3 months ago
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Same anon who gave the idea of that uncle and if he was a villain 👋👋👋
Can I ask for Jujutsu Kaysin where there's a student or teacher who loves cooking and baking. Maybe it helps them distress.
I can imagine Gojo stealing from what they bake and the reader getting mad because "I was going to use this making ___" or something like that. Like the reader getting cookies to use it in baking and he ate them.
Now he won't get from the final project.
Maybe they teach some students how to bake and cook as well.
There are a lot of things that can be done with this (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)
Also for the honor of the first idea can I be "🧑‍🦲anon"?
Of course you can be🧑‍🦲anon! I'm always happy to have new anons and thank you for sharing your previous idea! Since you didn't specify what kind of writing you wanted this to be and there's no "_ x reader" specified, I'll just make it a drabble with no "_ x reader" and just a teacher reader so I hope you don't mind.
Missing Treats
(Baker Teacher Reader Jujustu Kaisen AU)
“Satoru Gojo get your ass in here right now!”
Nobara sighed in annoyance and glared at the lean white haired man
“What did you do this time?”
Gojo only smirked and shrugged.
“I just ate all of (Y/N)’s cookies again.”
Yuji shot up from the couch and tackled the tall man.
“Nooooooo you’re joking right!? Please tell me you didn’t eat all of (Y/N) sensei’s cookies!”
Gojo only huffed and pouted at the distraught boy.
“C’mon Yuji it’s not that big of a deal, (Y/N) taught you how to make them already and they can always make more.”
“You better head to the kitchen before (Y/N) sensei gets impatient and comes here instead.”
“Nah don’t worry Megumi I got time-“
“You’re in big trouble mister!”
Before Gojo could respond he was dragged by the ear to the kitchen where the sounds of loud scolding soon followed.
“…How much do you bet he’ll still steal (Y/N) sensei’s cookies again?”
“10 bucks”
“He better not or I’ll never get to eat (Y/N) sensei’s cookies again! I only tried them once when they first made them! Gojo sensei keeps eating them!…15 bucks”
“Deal”
(2 days later)
“Hey Nobara why did Yuji and Megumi give you money they never do that…”
“Don’t worry too much about it Gojo sensei… I’d worry about that black eye of yours though, (Y/N) sensei has quite the swing huh?”
“For the cookies it was definitely worth it.”
“God you’re such an idiot I hate boys.”
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