#im a cherry pie enthusiast

[tojisun]

…yea sure why not?

-

baker!simon who’s known for the bit he’s got going on – something you wished your friends would’ve told you because the first time you walked into the niche bakery (at six am to boot) and saw simon, big and tall and inked and masked simon, you screamed bloody murder.

“jesus-!” he yelled back in surprise, almost dropping a tray of freshly baked shortbreads before whipping his head up to see what was going on only to feel like he’s been punched in the gut because there you stood by the entrance, bundled up with thick jackets like you’re preparing for winter even though fall was just settling in, your hair a haggard mess and your face gaunt from exhaustion, and looking like all parts of simon’s dream woman.

“um,” you stammered, staring at him with wide eyes and trembling hands, your heart hammering in your chest as you began to panic. “i, uh. i’m…?”

simon watched as you continued to stammer before finally taking pity on you. he placed the tray on the counter and turned to fully present himself to you, spreading his arms out in hopes that it would show you that he’s not dangerous. that you would see his flour-covered apron and see that all he’s got going on in life is baking, and then instantly be enamoured with him.

“you here for breakfast?” he asked, clearing his throat upon hearing the awkward croak of his voice. thank god for his mask because he was able to hide the flush of his cheeks, allowing him to continue to play it cool in front of you.

“yes?” you replied, still confused as to why the… baker? was wearing a homemade skull mask.

“sure,” he said and you watched as he wiped his hands on his apron. “come over here then. what’d you want to order?”

baker!simon who isn’t really a big sweets enthusiast but whose desserts are the best in the block. you asked him what made him pursue this career and you watched as he stilled, his face falling slack like he can see something you couldn’t – like he is reliving a memory – before shaking himself with a deep inhale and finally whispering, “for my brother.”

you did not probe any further, your heart heavy with guilt, but simon just turned to you with a small smile and asked, “wanna hear about ‘im?”

he gathered you in his arms as he recounted the few fond memories he has of his childhood, and you breathed him in, smelling the faint smell of macaroons and toasted butter on his skin.

baker!simon who begins dedicating his daily special treats to you. “for the apple of my eye,” when it’s apple fritters day. “for my beloved cheri,” on cherry pie day. “for my precious sugar,” on sugar cookies day.

baker!simon who proudly prances around in his frilly pink apron that has “husband material” embroidered on the chest. you gave it to him as a gag gift but simon loves it so much that he began to wear it to work, showing it off to his friends with a deep chuckle.

“my girl got it f’r me,” he says to johnny. “pretty, isn’t it?”

johnny nods amidst laughter, his body folded into himself as he clutches the counter for support.

-

fuck. baker!simon might even be better than biker!simon

[becca-e-barnes]

Becca, darling! I am one again thinking of Lee and what he would be like if he had the reader sat in his lap, maybe trailing her smaller delicate hands over his softer rounder tummy whilst also feeding slices of (perhaps home-made especially for her favourite sheriff?) pie or tasty pastry treats. Her knowing how hard he works and she just wants to make sure he's cared for

Maybe things escalate from there as she begins to subtly grind herself against his thigh...

🍑 anon

No because I literally love this. This isn't something I've ever written but I find it so hot! That whole concept of food and sex and the satisfaction that you feel when both are so good? Plus I love baking so this is it for me

Like I love the thought of baking something special for Lee. Maybe a cherry pie bc that's my favourite dessert. He'd watched you make it with a soft, content smile on his face, trying to tear his eyes away from the swell of your ass and the way it's framed by the edges of your apron.

As the pie cools down, he notices the little cracks forming in the pastry, his mouth watering at how the syrupy crimson filling peaks through. The light dusting of sugar on top doesn't help him restrain himself either, never mind the smell of freshly baked buttery pastry that's been wafting from the kitchen.

"Don't touch. baby. The pie is for Sunday." You smile, giving him a gentle kiss that makes him groan in frustration.

"Tha's not fair and you know it, Sugar." He groans, squeezing your ass after tugging you against him by the apron strings. "You gonna deny me a little slice of pie? On my birthday of all days?" He knows exactly how to get what he wants and damn him, it's working.

"Won't even make ya put a candle in it for me. Jus' lemme have a little taste. We can pretend it never happened." He won't relent and you know it. Not until he's watching a knife glide through the soft crust with the gentlest crunch.

It's not easy denying him, especially when the pie was his request. "Just a taste." You agree, rolling your eyes before giving in and cutting him a slice.

The filling is ever so slightly too wet, a testament to how fresh the cherries were before they were baked. The way you slide into his lap makes him perk up but his eyes don't leave the dessert plate and pastry fork in your hand.

He doesn't move to take the plate from you, looping his arms around your waist and smirking to himself as you load up the fork before bringing it to his lips.

God, the filling is delicious. It's sweet and decadent and reminds him so much of you. "Oh Sugar, you've outdone yourself this time." He moans, making a show of letting his head flop backwards as he chews. His eyes close of their own accord and it briefly reminds you of the kind of ecstasy you've seen him experience so many times before. Often in this same kitchen chair.

"You like it, Lee?" You smile, trying to ignore the strength of the throbbing between your thighs as you scoop more dessert onto the fork.

"Fuck sweetheart, you have no idea." You bring the utensil to his mouth once more before resting both the fork and the plate on the kitchen table as he chews.

Your hands roam over him slowly, a little more reverent than the way you usually touch him. You admire how even over his shirt, your fingers still sink into his soft, doughy tummy just a little. You've put a few extra pounds on him since you got married, not that either of you are complaining.

You know he can't be comfortable. That belt has been getting a little tighter recently and it shows now that he's sitting down. Without wanting to make a big deal, your hands trail lower, landing on the buckle and undoing it. He lets out the most content huff of breath, chewing methodically as you go back to rubbing his tummy.

"God, it's good." He whispers, letting you feed him another bite. "And all fuckin' mine." You're not sure if he's talking about the pie or you anymore and you can't find it in yourself to care. His thick thigh is wedged neatly between your legs in a way that has you rolling against it, letting gasps fall from your lips while your husband just watches.

"Is this doin' it for ya? Cause baby, every time you cook for me, I leave the table half hard and way too fuckin' full." He admits, holding your waist and watching the way your eyes flutter shut.

"Lee, that's..." You begin but the lust has all your thoughts a little scrambled.

"Hot? Cause I can feel what it's doin' to ya. Bet ya taste even sweeter than the pie right now." You're almost ashamed and it just makes you wetter, desperately riding his thigh as you lift the plate once more, your hands trembling ever so slightly.

[tema-makes-art-sometimes]

How I imagine the nations smell/what perfumes and scented candles they’d have/like.

Because my friend Richie started talking about how nations smell like, I’m thinking about it a lot so here’s my rambled thoughts cause why not. This normally isn’t my dig but why not Im bored.

--N Italy--

Vene smells like happiness- I joke but I imagine he smells just very bright. Like orange peels, and freshly cut grass. Firm pressed designer leather bags too. Not to mention fresh food, like he just left the kitchen after being in it all day. The warring smells of all sorts of spices that linger on his clothes from accidental hand fumbles or just a little too much enthusiastic shaking.

--S Italy--

Romano’s is very sharp, something that hits you when he walks in but not in an unpleasant way. I think he’d smell like a coffee shop. Very warm and impactful. Citrus and coffee, like an espresso romano. Specifically lemon and dark roasted coffee, maybe the faintest hint of caramel or something sweet that you can’t quite place. A gentle touch, just a touch of the ocean too. Just a slight sprinkle of salt.

--Germany--

Germany smells like a bakery, that’s it I wont take critique on the matter. I used to lean oak wood and car oil like his brother but let’s be real this man smells like he’s been sleeping in the bakery for 10 years. He smells like bread and cinnamon and blackberry jam. He smells like turbenado sugar and fresh baked apple pie. Just... warmth. A warm bakery or a kitchen. Filled with laughter and homely vibes.

--Prussia--

Prussia’s is similar to Germany but a bit harsher. There’s the under-hint of sweets but the overtone his oak and mahogany wood and leather. With just a twinge of that sweet hoppy smell of beer. Not too much just on the very edge. Wouldn't be surprised if he has a splash of car oil to his vibe. Just smells like an old man XD. But joking aside its a very homely vibe. Like he just came in from being out in the garage all day working on his car and just came in for a drink and a conversation.

--Japan--

Japan has the most subtle of scents. Cherry blossom is the most obvious but I think he leans more toward warm ocean breeze, faint sea salt and macha tea. Just that warm ocean vibe like youre standing right by the ocean, feeling thew waves on your feet, feeling the salt sting your nose just a bit. Balanced out with the round smell of macha that mellows it just enough for the gentle but pronounced cherry blossom to come through.

--USA--

America sounds like a drive in or a diner. That warm fry oil and seared beef and bacon. And soda, like that tingle of when you first open a soda. Specifically a cherry soda, that sweet, sticky fake cherry syrup smell. That kind of energy. He also smells like worn leather and cut grass, mainly from the his old bomber jacket that he wears all the time. It gives him a more well rounded vibe to him. Like sitting in an old diner from the 60′s with the leather booths and the jukeboxes.

--Canada--

“MAPLE” yeah of course obviously. He of course smells like maple syrup, but also other things. To me he has a forest vibe to him, a cabin in the woods. Like pine trees, moss, half frozen soil, maple sap/syrup. He smells like the halfway point between winter and spring. Where pollen and the vague scent of flowers are starting to appear while the soft scent of fallen snow and salt still lingers.

--UK--

England’s a really easy one for me. He smells like old books, earl grey and black tea and the ocean. He smells like- wet. Even when he isnt. You know the smell when you get soaked in the rain? That vibe. And of course, the old dusty books, ones that have been on the shelf for years and years, whom pages are starting to yellow. Fresh brewed tea with that hint of steam, just wet cool and a bit bitter.

--France--

While I’m trying to not have all of them smell like flowers because that unrealistic, I’m going all for it here. You can’t tell me this man doesn't smell like a bouquet of roses with an after-hint of that sharp sting yet pleasant and mellow scent of a good red wine. Like that distinct smell of alcohol, surrounded by a vibrant array of bright floral scents. He smells like he walks around with a dozen roses and a bottle of wine in his hands all the time and he cultivates that approachable suave energy with it.

--China--

China smells warm. Just warm. Like I can’t quite specify what it is but I feel like his ambient scent is just warmth. Like cinnamon and star anise, Chinese five spice kind of vibe. Something that when it hits your nose you just feel good. Like he just walked out of a high end fancy restaurant after a big meeting with others. Maybe a subtle hint of peonies. He has that natural vibe that just makes you wanna smile.

--Russia--

I like to think Russia smells like a snow covered forest. That scent and feeling when the air is sharply cold and you can smell the snowstorm coming in, with a bit of pine. Maybe even a hint of a campfire. If I had to pick like a building that he’d have that ambient scent of it would be like a carpentry shop. The smell of a fire in the fireplace, freshly lacquered wood, cut mahogany and pine sap.

[cardinalpinion]

GET TO KNOW THE BLOGGER.

For rp & non-rp blogs to get to know a bit about the person behind the screen !

1. FIRST NAME  ⇢  Tricky (sorry folks it’s not real name hours today)

2. STRANGE FACT ABOUT YOURSELF ⇢  ???uuuh i broke literally all my toes over the course of a few years

3. TOP 3 PHYSICAL THINGS YOU FIND ATTRACTIVE ON A PERSON  ⇢  piercings, natural eyebrows, smile (im soRRY BUT THIS TREND OF THICCC DRAWN EYEBROW MAKEUP IS????)

4. A FOOD YOU COULD EAT FOREVER AND NOT GET BORED OF  ⇢  sushi rice/short-grain rice and/or teriyaki belly pork

5. A FOOD YOU HATE  ⇢   horseradish? First thing i thought off jdbcksd

6. GUILTY PLEASURE  ⇢  idk if you’d call it a guilty pleasure but i still like to go back and watch old kids shows like pokemon, Digimon, yu gi oh and even some more recent ones like gravity falls. cartoons are good sometimes mainstream media are just cowards

7. WHAT DO YOU SLEEP IN  ⇢ PJs! I have lots of cute pairs of jammies like butterflies, polkadots, etc

8. SERIOUS RELATIONSHIPS OR FLINGS  ⇢  Serious for me, I’m just not a fling person

9. IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN THE PAST AND CHANGE ONE THING ABOUT YOUR LIFE, WOULD YOU AND WHAT WOULD IT BE  ⇢  I can’t really think of anything? 

10. ARE YOU AN AFFECTIONATE PERSON  ⇢  .Absolutely let me cuddle you. I love all kinds of affection but esp physical gIME HUGS COWARDS

11. A MOVIE YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN  ⇢  Nightmare before Christmas, your name, howls moving castle 

12. FAVORITE BOOK  ⇢ heck it’s been a while, i can't remember the name

13. YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO KEEP ANY ANIMAL AS A PET, WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE  ⇢  All of them 

jk but my goals right now are a betta fish and a western hognose snake

14. TOP FIVE FICTIONAL SHIPS  ⇢  all. like literally i could not narrow it down for you

15. PIE OR CAKE  ⇢  depends on what you’re offering me. apple pie v victoria sponge? pie. Cherry pie v red velvet cake? cake

16. FAVORITE SCENTS  ⇢  Honey, lavender, bonfires, fireworks, vanilla

17. CELEBRITY CRUSHES  ⇢ mmmm?? none really like i can appreciate some people are hot but no crushes tbh

18. IF YOU COULD TRAVEL ANYWHERE, WHERE WOULD YOU GO  ⇢ Japan! Or Alaska to see the northern lights, or America to meet my online friends

19. INTROVERT OR EXTROVERT  ⇢ Hella introvert

20. DO YOU SCARE EASILY  ⇢  Yes and no, i love horror and the weirdest things stick with me i can never anticipate what's going to actually scare me to the point it lingers

21. IPHONE OR ANDROID  ⇢  Android

22. DO YOU PLAY ANY VIDEO GAMES  ⇢  Oh ya lots. FFXIV, League of Legends mainly rn but I’m also playing through Digimon cyber sleuth, tales of vesperia, etc and i have games like stardew valley, pokemon, all the good stuff

23. DREAM JOB  ⇢ Cinemaphotrapher or photojournalist 

24. WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH A MILLION DOLLARS  ⇢  idk man bigger house? Nice big garden for my doggo, room for extra pets, a game room, a POND!!!

25. FICTIONAL CHARACTER YOU HATE  ⇢  i dont really hate anyone? dislike yea but not outright hate

26. FANDOM THAT YOU WERE ONCE A PART OF BUT AREN’T ANY LONGER  ⇢  wym you never truly leave a fandom it always holds onto a piece of you

But for real i think if you bought up anything i used to like id still be hella enthusiastic over it

Tagged By:  @spitecremated

Tagging: im too tired just steal it love ya

[vennilavee]

golden hour part VI

golden hour masterlist

Pairing: bucky barnes x reader

Summary: a series of moments when everything sparkles, shines and glitters, just like it’s gold.

Warnings: none!

Word Count: ~1600

A/N: if you couldn’t tell, im a sucker for the fall. Enjoy! 

Once you found out that Bucky had never been to a pumpkin patch, a haunted hay ride, had apple cider donuts or even been apple picking, you were determined to change that.

Steve swings the door to his and Bucky’s shared apartment and narrows his eyes at you. You stare right back, waiting for his suspicious eyes to ease up.

“Good morning, Steve,” You smile at him despite his obvious hesitance, “Ummm...I’m not sure if you’ve got a sweet tooth like Bucky’s, but I baked some chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies. And made some dark chocolate bark. Buck told me you don’t have any peanut allergies to worry about.

“Enjoy.”

“Uh, thank you,” Steve Rogers might be wary of you but Sarah Rogers didn’t raise him to be impolite, “You like the fall?”

“Yeah! It’s my favorite season,”  You reply enthusiastically, “Something about the leaves changing and the cooler air just feels nostalgic, you know?”

Your heart is racing a million miles a minute and Steve can hear it. He intimidates you more than a little. You’ve voiced the hunch you have that he doesn’t like you to Sam and Bucky but they are insistent that that is not the case.

You don’t quite believe them. Which is why you’ve brought treats to bribe Steve’s affections and sway him in your direction. You really want him to like you and it’s been upsetting you that he’s held you at arms length.

“Yeah, I like the fall, too. My ma used to make this amazing apple pie. It would just melt on your tongue,” Steve says wistfully. His eyes are less guarded and your shoulders slump minutely in relief.

“Oh! I’m not that great a baker, but I’d love to try baking an apple pie,” You jump at the opportunity to impress him, “Apple pie is my favorite.”

“Me, too!” Steve exclaims, “You gotta have it with ice cream, too-”

“Yeah, with vanilla ice cream,” You agree, “It’s the best combination on the whole planet.”

“Even better than cookies and milk?” He asks it so innocently, that you have to laugh.

“That’s a tough one,” You pretend to ruminate on the question for a few moments. Just then, Bucky emerges from his bedroom after hearing your voice mingling with Steve’s voice. Seeing you and Steve smiling together... Nothing makes Bucky happier.

Steve is just protective of him, and understandably so. You understand that, you really do. But you still want him to desperately approve of you.  Approve of you as Bucky’s girl.

The smile you give Bucky once you catch him walking towards you is a smile that he can proudly say he’s gotten used to. It still brings him to his knees, but he doesn’t get as nervous around you.

He can hear your heartbeat speed up ever so slightly. It comforts him a little, knowing that you are as affected by him as he is by you.

Holding out your arms to him for a hug, you murmur a hello in his ear. A whiff of your subtle rose scented perfume wafts into his nose and he resists an urge to close his eyes and bathe in it. 

“I made cookies and bark. Have some before we go,” You reach over the counter and hand him the Tupperware. 

Bucky doesn’t think he could ever say no to you. He watches you as he munches on the dark chocolate bark, your eyes wide with anticipation.

His approval. You want his approval.

The moan of delight that leaves his lips is bordering on sinful but you clap your hands in delight. 

“Pretty good, huh, Buck?” Steve asks slyly.

“She knows the way to my heart,” Bucky says easily, enjoying the way you duck your head at his teasing. You tug the sleeves of your mustard colored bomber jacket and check your pockets to make sure you have your keys, wallet, and cellphone.

“Ready, Buck?” You ask softly. Bucky almost tugs your fingers into his hand but he resists.

He doesn’t want to scare you.

“Have fun, kids,” Steve waves at you, finally giving you a warm smile.

“Bye, Steve. Those cookies better be gone when we get back,” You tease. Steve laughs and nods before giving Bucky a pointed look.

You walk slightly ahead of Bucky with a slight hop in your step. Bucky can taste your excitement bubbling over and spilling onto him.

Like fizzy champagne.

It’s when you are driving to your favorite farm in New York State with one hand on the wheel that you slowly inch your other hand towards Bucky. He doesn’t catch it at first, thinking that maybe you are looking for something in one of the compartments of your car.

But you keep your eyes on the road. Your lips are slightly upturned when your fingers thread into his with invisible, golden strings. You squeeze lightly, your thumb stroking his absent-mindedly.

Bucky silently marvels at how your hand slots into his so perfectly. As if his hand was molded for the sole purpose of fitting into yours.

“You okay, Buck?” You like to check in with him whenever you touch him like this. You don’t want to push him.

“Yes, darling,” Bucky says without thinking. His head whips around to you, anxiously awaiting your reaction.

Darling. Where had that even come from? He hadn’t even been thinking it. Maybe a memory of a memory from long, long ago.

He remembers ‘darling’ from when he used to take pretty girls to get milkshakes and impress them with how quickly he could tie a cherry stem with his tongue.

Instead of rebuking the term of endearment, you smile bashfully. You squeeze his hand again, chancing a glance at him.

“Darling, huh? I like that,” You reply softly, “Never been called that before.”

And Bucky just can’t have that, can he? He likes the way your eyes glitter after he called you ‘darling’ and decides that it’s a look he wants to see on you more often.

Black boots crunch along fallen leaves as you excitedly point to Bucky all your favorite attractions at the farm. You’ve brought him to your favorite childhood farm, complete with a haunted hayride. You take a seat at one of the benches, sipping on hot apple cider and munching on apple cider donuts.

You had been appalled when Bucky said he had never had warm, apple cider donuts. You hadn’t left him room to protest when you fed him bits of the donut, relishing in the way he hummed happily.

“It’s good right,” You murmur, “We should bring some back for Steve. He’ll probably dislike me a little less.”

“He doesn’t dislike you,” Bucky scoffs, “He’s just... protective.”

“I know, I know,” You say softly, wrapping your arm around his bicep and leaning against him, “I’d be protective of you, too, if I was him. I am protective of you, you know?”

Bucky somehow manages to look you in the eyes. The setting sun casts its light, golden rays onto you, accentuating the tenderness in your eyes. He’s proud of himself, from not shirking away from you because of a confession so tender that was directed at him.

“Is that so?” Bucky says wryly, “You and Steve can fight over me. I’ll watch on the sidelines.”

You laugh, ducking your head. It’s a pretty noise, Bucky thinks. Reminds him of something sweet.

“Bet you’d like that, huh? Brooklyn’s finest,” You roll your eyes at him affectionately, “Handsome Brooklyn boy.” You pinch his cheek, laughing when he tries batting your hand away with a blush blooming on the apples of his cheeks.

He smears some of the powder from the donuts onto your forehead and you grumble, “Do you know how terrible having this stuff on your skin is for you?! How rude. We can’t all be blessed with skin like yours, Barnes.”

Bucky actually giggles.  He tilts his head slightly so that his nose pressed into your hair. You wish you could capture this moment, this moment in time. You’re certain that his nose is scrunching and his eyes crinkling with mirth.

Your golden boy glows along with the setting sun.

“I know you’re scared. You can hold my hand if you want. You know, cause you’re so scared,” You tease Bucky, wrapping your arm around his bicep again. You’ve made your way to the haunted hayride, the last event of the evening. It’s your favorite part. Bucky clasps his hand over yours with a grin.

“I can hear your heart racing, darling,” Bucky says easily, “Maybe you’re just nervous around me.”

Your heart rate spikes at the pet name and you curse his hearing.

“You just make my darn heart flutter,” You jest, nudging him lightly in the ribs. He shushes you and you lean against his arm, jumping lightly when the hayride begins to move.

Bucky tries his best to not laugh at you when you yelp at almost every turn. Your nails are digging into his arm and your eyes are covered by your other hand. Except you peek out of the spaces of your fingers to see out in front of you. 

You let out a distinct, high-pitched scream at the sight of a demented, ghoulish looking clown with a bloody pitchfork and shove your face into Bucky’s shoulder instinctively. 

Bucky suddenly feels very warm. Gooey, like the inside of a chocolate chip cookie. Your rosy scent surrounds him, welcomes him. This is rapture, this is vivid- how everything about you warms him up from within. As if you are a part of him already.

As if you’ve already started to pour some of your molten gold into him.

tags: @coal000 @hottrashformarvel @hootyhoobuckaroo @buckyforbreakfast @lesqui @dracris33 @cauraphernelia @starfisharchives @ragna-wrecked