#this show is a show where bakers are given a kitchen where something was baked and they have to use the clues left behi d

[kawaiianimeredhead]

I've never wanted to crawl inside the tv so bad as I do when I watch Crime Scene Kitchen

#lemme open that fucking doughnut box i wanna look inside #lemme look in the trash why is nobody doing that! #im so angry theyre wrong and i wanna be right #put me in yall #i cant bake but i wanna detect #this show is a show where bakers are given a kitchen where something was baked and they have to use the clues left behi d #to both guess and recreate the dessert #and they never look in the fucking trash! #this go around one group noticed the only thing others didnt see but they didnt see it in time and its driving me nutes right now #seeing everyone be so fucking wrong lmao

[llamagoddessofficial]

@justanotherotaku1102, thank you sm for commissioning Skull from the coffee shop AU being a loveable boye 🥺 he is Everything

---

This wasn’t your first attempt at dough. You felt increasingly, though, like it was going to be your last.

It was the very early morning, at your coffee shop, sunshine was already peeking through the windows of the kitchen. 6am... you’d already set up the cafe for the 7am opening, machines cleared and prepared, cutlery and dishes cleaned and ready to go, food out in the display cases. You and your only employee were now just cleaning up, preparing for opening- you’d felt like you had enough spare time this morning to attempt some baking.

...

You probably would’ve been better to just throw the ingredients straight in the garbage.

You had no idea what it was. It seemed like you were cursed, or something. You really thought that by now, you’d be able to successfully manage something as basic as a bread dough- you were hoping that your time around your professional baker suitors would’ve meant that some of their prowess would’ve rubbed off on you. Sans’ ability to craft the most intricate and incredibly delicate pieces, Red’s magic touch with even the most complex pies, surely you’d pick up some skills?

You really hadn’t.

... You stepped away from the oily, sticky mess on the countertop in front of you, fingers caked in mixture. You were getting unreasonably frustrated over some fucking bread dough... looking at your wasted work, you felt choked up and angry.  

...

“... struggling?” Skull asked.

You looked over your shoulder at him. He was by the oven, big eye quietly observing you... you could see why he used to scare you so much. But right now, Skull was the only person who could talk to you without you exploding. A softspoken giant with a gentle temperament, he was a baker by trade- he had been here in the kitchen since at least 4 in the morning, making the pastries and cakes that decorated the shelves of your cafe. Stars knows you needed him, given your absolute dogshit baking skills.

He had been quietly watching the whole time. You knew he had. You bit back frustrated tears, smearing your sticky hands over your apron- “Yes. I’m giving up.”

“... the dough?”

“Going in the trash.” You choked. “Where my cooking belongs.”

“... can i... see?”

Skull didn’t like food waste. Any kind of food waste. You deflated... suddenly feeling bad for talking about throwing it away. Some of the anger dissipated.

“... Sure. You can try and save it.” You stepped back from the sticky mess of oil, flour, water and yeast. “Do what you want.”

... Skull moved over. He walked slowly, with a gentle lean, like one side of him weighed slightly more than the other... he stood beside you at the countertop, looking at your ‘work’. His jagged face meant he preferred to spend his days at the cafe hidden away in the kitchen, cooking while you handled customer service. He was at his happiest when making something.

He stared at your mess.

...

“jus’ needs... more flour.” He mumbled. “and... kneading.”

“I can’t knead.” You said, dejectedly.

He glanced at you.

“... show me.”

You looked up at him- you didn’t know why he wanted you to show him when he’d probably seen your sad and frustrated kneading attempts earlier. But you did as he asked, moving back in front of the bread. He had said more flour, right? You took a handful of flour out of the bag and generously dusted your terrible creation. You pressed your hands into it... doing the closest you could get to the method you saw in videos and on TV.

...

Skull moved behind you. And suddenly, his huge hands were on either side of your own. 

You froze; wait, he was standing behind you? So close, too... close enough that you could feel the warmth coming off him. Your heart thudded- what?

His chest gently bumped your upper back.

“here.” He said softly, breath ruffling your hair. His big, scarred hands reached forward...

... And took yours in his own.

You clamped your mouth shut to stop the tiny squeak from escaping you. You felt like you were being swallowed, and you didn’t dislike it. He smelled like cinnamon. Skull guided your hands patiently- he angled your palms, and helped you push the dough, the ball of your hand first. His precision and experience was clear with the smoothness and direction of his movements... and on top of that, he knew exactly how gently to hold your tiny human hands.

“... push n’ roll.” He said. “s’that simple. don’t worry... bout speed. people who... knead fast... have been doin’ it for years.”

You could hear your heart in your ears, now. You’d seen this guy lift up your fridge with one hand, so he could sweep underneath it- you knew the feats of strength he was capable of. And yet, he somehow held your hands like they were glass, while still applying enough pressure to guide them. 

You tried your damndest to concentrate, to make the most of his clear expertise. Push and roll. Push and roll...

...

... And... oddly enough, not fussing about the bread too much because you were constantly thinking about Skull’s slow breaths tickling your scalp and his massive arms around you, you found you were robotically performing the motions he was guiding without your usual overthinking. It only took a few moments for you to realise you were actually kneading the dough. Properly.

... A swell of pride in your chest, and a little smile on your face. Maybe you weren’t cursed after all?

“... there we go. you got it.” He murmured, affectionately, almost right up against your hair. The way he said that, him murmuring so close, his deep voice through his chest... you were kinda glad he was behind you, he couldn’t see you blushing. Would he catch you if you fainted?

“R-Red kneads fast.” You managed to get out. He kept kneading with you.

“he’s showing off.” Skull said, disapprovingly.

You couldn’t help but snort. The dough was starting to take on a smooth, flawless texture. “And Sans?”

“probably... can’t make bread. bread’s not... science enough.”

A warm laugh escaped you. For a moment, you could’ve sworn Skull paused- but not too long.

... Skull was right about the bread. I mean, of course he was. But it was still nice to see your mistake gradually turning into something that would probably look alright in the oven. With some flour, and some kneading, it more and more resembled an object that could soon become edible. Your efforts (and the ingredients) weren’t totally wasted.

Skull finally took his hands off yours... placing them on the counter. You immediately missed the warmth. But you now had, before you, a lovely silky-looking ball of dough.

“... Then it proves. Right?” You turned, looking up over your shoulder at him. Even though he’d taken his hands off yours he didn’t take his hands off of either side of you. His big, warm eye stared down at you.

“... mhm. ‘bout n hour.” He tilted his head. “want... me to prove, and bake? since... you’ll be... busy.”

“You trying to put a bun in my oven, Skull?” You teased.

...

Skull’s eyelight widened. And his whole face, just like that, flooded with an ultramarine blue.

“u-uh.”

...

You made yourself smile, despite your furious embarrassment and burning face. You moved to the side- he took his arm off the counter, letting you slip out from his enveloping personal space bubble.

“I-I should go wash my hands and open the store.” You blabbed, smearing your hands on your poor apron again. You’d need to grab a replacement, no way you could greet customers like this. “Would you like another coffee before the doors open?”

He nodded, dumbly. “... m... mhm.”

You scurried away, desperately needing a moment to cool, so your cheeks weren’t on fire when people started coming through the door.

...

Skull, alone in the kitchen, busied himself with readying your bread dough for proofing- trying to find a way to distract himself, and stop the loud purring that had immediately started filtering out of his chest once you were out of earshot.

#commissions #coffee shop au represent #skull got that quiet boy rizz #she let me hit because i can bake her warm fresh loaves of homemade bread

[fantasygerard2000]

"The Seven Teens in Wish don't have much to do in the movie other than being a reference". A criticism that I both agree and disagree with. Like any other Wish criticism, this is one of the few that gets rebuffed if you watch the movie again and payed attention. While i do agree with the issue of a movie having way too many characters, of all the teens, Dahlia, Simon and Gabo are the ones who have the most prominent roles and are tied to movie's themes.

Let's start off with Gabo. While many others dislike him because he's a jerk, there's some merit as to why he's so pessimistic. While I don't like including info from supplementary material like tie-in books, they do have that extra detail that was lacking in the final movie. In A Recipe for Adventure (which will be used a lot in this post), the author speculates that Gabo is a disappointed optimist. Even though we don't have much to work with other from that piece of trivia, when can always think of something to tie him with the film's theme.

Gabo represents the disappointment in a system where few are given benefits over the majority. He always talks about Simon and Sabino's unfulfilling lives because they gave their wishes away and hoping they will be granted, suggesting that he has seen or what it's like to have an unhappy unfulfilling life. He assumes Asha applying for the role of Magnifico's apprentice so that she can have the benefits of having her and her family's wishes; "cheating" her way to get what she wants while the others are left waiting. Him being a "disappointment optimist" suggests that he had high hopes upon moving to Rosas but has seen how long the waited that his hopes are snuffed and has doubts about the system in general.

At the third act of the film, he decides to help Asha and Star free the wishes because Star reignites his hope for a positive future, one where people can live their lives happy and fulfilled.

Dahlia has the most screen time and lines of the teens, so obviously she has more character than the rest of them.

She's noticeably uses a crutch to walk. While Disney could've easily made her story about wanting to walk without her crutch, they chose not to. In Recipe for Adventure, her wish is to become the best baker in the kingdom, to which she has already achieved. She works as a kitchen staff in the castle, home of Rosas' founder and king.

This shows that she doesn't need magic to become the best baker, all she has is the effort to work for her dreams despite having a disability. This ties with the film's moral as well as a positive lesson for people with disabilities to overcome the struggles and achieve their dreams.

Also in the book, she has a grandmother who passed away and was the one who taught her about her passion for baking. Her and Asha meeting as kids and becoming close friends ties back to my previous post about Asha, mainly about her suffering from loss and that she and Dahlia supported each other going through their darkest moment.

Like Dahlia, Simon also has more character than the rest.

Simon was once an active person, loves going outdoors and horseback riding. I suggest the idea that since his wish is to become a knight for the kingdom, he had trained for the position.

After he gave away his wish once he became 18, all that passion was taken away as the once lively and active aspiring knight loses that drive and becomes a husk of what he once was.

There's a saying that Simon's sleepiness resulted from his wish taken away is reminiscent of depression, which I agree. Simon's joy and dream was to become a knight and help defend his people. When that joy was taken away and his dream unfulfilled, he feels he has no purpose.

Him ratting Asha out of his selfish desire to have his wish be finally granted may be stemmed from his desperation to get rid of the emptiness he has felt. Like how people with depression use "means" to feel that joy they craved which resulted in paying the price out of their own health; ie his mind being controlled by Magnifico and their friends and family's concerns; betraying his friends.

After Magnifico's defeat and Simon is out of his spell, he apologizes for betraying Asha, with his reasons that he "wanted to believe in Magnifico." This brings out a dark aspect of Magnifico's wish system, he takes away people's joy, making them feel desperate to beg to him that they'll do anything for him to feel that joy again.

Simon's story may be applicable to people who have achieve their dream job out of their selfish desire to achieve it, like leaving their friends and family behind in order to get it. But once said dreams have strings attached, like working for a corrupted system that only hired you until you're "replaceable", you take it all back and feel disappointed for trusting all your hopes and dreams to an unfair system.

While the rest of the teens don't have the same character put in like Dahlia, Simon and Gabo, I feel like giving them their own arcs would have cluttered an already cluttered movie.

Wish has problems, but those problems aren't fixable by adding in things like an alien love interest and an influencer couple. Wish's issues is that the creators didn't put in the extra push it needed, hence why it feels "not enough".

#disney wish #wish 2023 #wish movie #wish #wish dahlia #wish simon #simon o'donohue

[spoilertv]

#SpoilerTV

[steves-on-a-plane]

No Place Like Home (Pt 9)

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / 

Words: 1512  Pairing: Ted Lasso x Reader       Summary: Ted and Reader begin baking the cake for Sam’s birthday together. Everything is going perfectly, until their midnight baking session is interrupted by an unexpected visitor.  

“[Y/N] this was great idea.” You and Ted were in his kitchen gathering all the necessary ingredients to bake Sam’s cake. “What better way to show Sam that we care about him than a cake homemade with love!”

Ted was of course the baker friend that you had mentioned to Roy a few days ago. It was convenient for everyone that Ted was a nervous baker and his first match as Head Coach was the same day as Sam’s birthday. You didn’t mention the nervous baking to Ted though. He still thought that was a secret of his. You’d chosen instead to mention that since he was planning on baking a new batch of biscuits for Rebecca anyway, he might as well bake the cake too. Strike while the oven is hot! Ted had agreed.  

“Looks like we’ve got everything.” You told Ted after surveying the ingredients one more time.

“Feels like we’re on one of them fancy cooking shows.” Ted told her happily. “I ain’t never had an assistant baker before.”

“Really?” You thought back to all the times Ted had brough in baked goods over the last two years. The many birthdays and holidays he’d brought in more than his fair share to bake sales and potlucks. “I always assumed Michelle helped sometimes. So, wait, that Christmas party where you brought six dozen cookies and two full sheets of fudge brownies, you baked all of that by yourself?”

“Yes Ma’am.” Ted nodded. “Michelle never really cared for bakin’, always told me I made a mess of the kitchen. But this is excitin’! Something new we can do together! Why don’t you let me help you with that?” He asked as you struggled to get on the apron Ted had loaned you.  It had two sets of strings one that tied around the neck and another that tied around the waist. For some reason, you kept getting them twisted and the neck parts would end up tied to the waist. The thing was a mess.

You nodded in agreement. You swept her hair up out of the way as Ted began to detangle the strings. He tied the neck part first; you weren’t prepared for his fingers to accidentally graze against the base of your neck. You stiffened, trying to ignore the way his touch had given you goosebumps. By the time you’d recovered, he’d already moved onto tying a knot at the waist.

“Good to go.” He said, letting his hands fall to his sides.

“Okay.” You clapped your hands together hoping to shake yourself out of you dazed state. You picked up the lined sheet of notebook paper that Ted’s recipe was written on. You had seen him remove it from a shoebox he kept above the fridge. You could tell by the lack of blocked writing that Ted hadn’t written the recipe himself. He noticed you studying the paper and solved the mystery for you.

“My grandmother on my dad’s side.” He informed. “I collect recipes from here and there, but my nana made the best cakes.”

“I can’t wait to try it tomorrow. It says here we start off with the eggs.” You leaned forward to grab the carton of eggs. When you did, Ted caught the slightest hint of your perfume. It smelled sweet with hints of floral notes. Maybe rose water or daisies and vanilla. Whatever it was, he liked it.

You and Ted worked together perfectly. This harmony seemed to carry over into leisure activities like baking too. You would read the recipe, always several steps ahead, to make sure Ted had what he would need next. Baking had always been something Ted had done alone. When he was younger it wasn’t exactly cool for a teenager, especially a young man, to be at home making cupcakes or pies. As he got older, he learned that it relaxed him. Baking was easy. Baking was controllable.

He’d tried to bring Michelle into the fold with him once or twice. She never seemed to enjoy it. Baking took a long time and Michelle didn’t have the patience for it. She also didn’t like following recipes. Even when Ted tried to explain that it was like a science experiment, each little measurement mattered.

You didn’t seem to have the same reservations. You didn’t care how long baking the cake for Sam would take. You’d told Ted it was more important that you make something delicious for your homesick teammate than it was to get the job done quickly. You laughed at his corny jokes and made sure each measurement was perfect. You’d even taken care to sift the flower without Ted asking.

“You siftin’ the flower?” He laughed when he spotted you doing it out of the corner of his eye.

“I hope that’s okay!” You bit your lip with worry. Had you totally ruined the cake before it even had a chance?

“That’s perfect, [Y/N].” He told you.

When all the ingredients were mixed up together and the oven was preheated, you placed your batter into the oven and waited for it to turn into a cake. You began cleaning the counter island. You put away the unused ingredients, like the remaining eggs and flower. While Ted got to work making the buttercream frosting.

“What do you want me to do with the extra batter?” You asked him, holding up the mixing bowl you’d been using.

“Well usually I go ahead an’ lick whatever’s still on the spoon and toss the rest.” He confessed sheepishly. “There’s quite a bit left in there though.” He said, peering at the bowl in her hands. I suppose we could always make cupcakes or somethin’ small.”

“Or,” You placed the bowl back on the counter island before opening the cutlery drawer and pulling out two spoons. “We could just eat it now.”

You held the spoons out to Ted, offering him to take one. Ted accepted one of the spoons and dipped it into the batter. You took the other spoon and began spooning batter from the other side of the bowl.

“Mmm, this is delicious.” You remarked, reaching for another bite.

“It’s taste even better once it’s baked.” Ted promised. After a few more bites, Ted got the bright idea to give you some light teasing. “Say [Y/N], looks like you’ve got a little bit of batter on your face.”

“Really?” You put your spoon down and began to feel your face. “Where?”

“Right, here.” Ted had scooped up a small amount of batter onto his finger while you’d been distracted. He wiped the batter on the tip of your nose where you could see it.

“I don’t think that play was legal Coach Lasso.” You giggled. You dipped her own fingers into the batter. You flicked your hand and splattered Ted’s face with cake batter.

“Oh, it’s on Donkey Kong!” Ted put his whole hand in the batter and effortlessly tossed some at you.

“Ah!” You attempted to dodge, but it was too late. you were hit and immediately retaliated. After a few volleys of batter back and forth you were the one to call the food fight off. “Okay, I think we’ve made enough of a mess!”

You fell forward, slipping on some of the batter that had landed the floor. Ted caught you by the elbows to save you. This steadied you on your feet and brought the two of you closer together. you looked up to find Ted’s face just inches from yours. You were so close to Ted that he could see the small flecks of gold in your eyes.

You found yourself holding your breath. You didn’t want to move. You just wanted to live in that moment in the poorly lit kitchen with Ted lasso holding you. Time passed and Ted hadn’t made any movement himself. You wished you could read his mind. You wanted to know if he was thinking all the same things that you were.

The room was so quiet you felt like you could hear your blood pumping. You had to do something soon. If you didn’t Ted was going to. You found yourself chewing on your lip as you weighed out your options. You could walk away, just start cleaning up the mess you’d made. Everything would stay exactly as it was. But Ted hadn’t let go yet. He hadn’t told you some joke in his familiar twang to lighten the mood.

You decided to take a chance. You leaned forward the last few inches that separated your lips from Ted’s and kissed him. You couldn’t believe you’d had the courage to do it. Even as your lips touched his. After two years of pining and anticipation, you had kissed Ted Lasso.

You thought he kissed you back, but the kiss didn’t last long. As soon as you had leaned forward to kiss your boss, there was a knock at the door. The person on the other side probably thought they were knocking at an appropriately normal volume, but to you and Ted the sound was deafening.

@ponyboys-sunsets​ / @writeroutoftime​ / @captain-starks​ / @garbinge​ / @darshs​ / @companionjones​ / @fanaticalfantasist​ / @svndancekidd​ / @uhohmando​ / @wadeyouwitch​ / @cedricscoffin​ / @hellohauntedturnstudent​ / @busybeingtrash​ / @avengerslover-yee​ / @stankface​ / @marjoherbo​ / @the-fanfic-fangirl​ 

#Ted Lasso #Ted Lasso x Reader #Ted Lasso Reader Insert #Ted Lasso Fan Fiction #Ted Lasso FF #Ted Lasso Fan Fic #No Place Like Home

[houseofdabs]

fic idea: lester and jonesy scramble to get ingredients and find the recipe for the cake momma always used to bake the twins on their birthday. they are inept.

THIS IS SO CUTE AAA !!

warnings: slight mentions of abuse ---------------------------------------

Lester knew how his older siblings didn't really care for birthdays --at least not Bo-- it was kind of a sensitive topic as most familial holidays were for the Sinclair siblings, seeing as they lacked the proper warmth that their parents should have offered. The only semblance of affection was bestowed onto Vincent, being as he was their mother's favorite, and in turn, their father's as well. When holidays came their parents did attempt to share the sentiment with their two other kids, but it was stark in comparison to what Vincent received; it was like they were dogs receiving scraps while the real family sat at the table and enjoyed their meal. Thinking about it made Lester upset and he didn't like to dwell on it too much, he was determined to pick up the slack from his parents and reinstate the feel good emotions that holidays should have brought.

Now how was the question, and a damn good one at that. It wasn't that Lester wasn't good at planning things, he was quite good, in fact former partners always boasted about how thoughtful he was when it came to things like this. But this time was different. Sure he loved the ones that used to be in his life, but these were his brothers who he knew might not react positively to it, he didn't want to dig up any bad memories. And yeah, people liked parties and having things given to them, but when you grow up expecting that same loving hand to strike you, it's hard to cherish the good when you know terrible is right around the corner. It hurt Lester that his brother's couldn't appreciate even the smallest things, and it made him hate his parents for making it that way, but he would never mention it to the other two.

That's when he remembered his mom's old recipe book, she was a horrible mother but a damn good baker, and if he was right he'd be able to find that one caramel cake recipe she always made for his siblings on their birthday. He'd set out to get the ingredients, they were on a budget but Lester had set aside some money to get the good stuff, anything for his brothers. All he needed was some company.

Jonesy.

Pup at his feet and directions in hand, Lester sought to set everything out, he had borrowed some cook ware from the house but he'd bring it back when he was done, maybe not clean but returned. He was confident as he measured out the ingredients but with each step he followed his faith wavered. "Y'know girl, this'sa LOT harder than I had reckoned." Lester looked down as Jonesy who just stared up at him with her head tilted.

Determined, Lester continued on whisking and adding and folding till his arms were sore, his mama made it look so easy. He was so caught up in his stumbling over the batter he completely forgot about the beast that would be the icing, and just like with the batter he shook off any concerns, how hard could it be?

He set the ingredients in the pan to melt and went back to pouring the batter in the cake pan before setting it in the heated oven. Directing his attention back to the icing, he noticed it had melted all together and he checked the instructions for what to do next. "Okay girly, it says-- TWO HOURS?" His eyes bulged as he stared down at the paper, he hadn't remembered it taking that long and he didn't have the time to wait.

"Okay y'know what we're g'na do? Not that," Lester set the paper down and turned the eye up to a higher degree, "if it's hotter it'll cook faster, now ain't I smart?" He chuckled as Jonesy barked a response. "You said it sister."

Lester watched as the contents of the pot bubble as it turned a caramel color, stirring it occasionally. He decided to put on some records to help pass the time as he waited for the cake to bake. "S'too quiet," He muttered and cranked the knob to his old boombox as the voice of Merle Haggard flowed from the speakers and into the small kitchen, "there, thas better." He looked at Jonesy before patting his chest, and invitation for her to jump up and dance with him. He held the dog's paws as he swayed and sang along.

"♫ A workin' man can't get nowhere today ♫"

He grinned and stepped with the dog, "Ain't that right Jonesy girl!" Jonesy barked and Lester howled, encouraging her to make more noise. He was having such a good time with his dance partner that he forgot about the now burning icing on the stove. "Shoot!" Lester hissed and raced to stir the liquid and take it off the eye. It was a dark brown and Lester only hoped that it wasn't too bad cause he had used everything he bought and he didn't have enough to remake it. He could only hope that he didn't also mess up the cake.

Equipped with a butter knife, Lester opened the oven and stuck it in the middle of the cake before pulling it out, something he'd seen his mom do, except he didn't know what to look for. He noticed how the top was cooked and it was squishy when he pressed into it, so he pulled it out. Soon the cake was covered in the dark caramel icing and he swore at himself for lacking his mother's artistic ability, wanting to decorate the cake but deciding that he didn't want to mess it up further. He let the cake cool as he gathered everything in his truck, making sure to remember his brothers' presents.

He had gotten Bo a portable jump starter, something he had seen someone use when he was stuck on the side of the road. Lester knew the battery on Bo's truck had seen better days and he for sure didn't want his older brother stuck somewhere. And for Vincent he knew he had to get him this old brush carrier he had seen while he was browsing some antique shop, he even managed to sweet talk the lady up front to hold it for him till he could afford it. The holder was sturdy and made out of leather that had softened from years of use, on the back had flowers and leaves carved into it, nothing too 'pretty' but something artsy that he knew his brother would like. He had also snagged some whiskey while out shopping, hoping that it would help with the nerves of them all.

Once everything was packed in his truck, Jonesy included, he set off to Ambrose, careful to not hit any bumps and disturb the dessert that sat between him and the animal. He said a silent prayer as he crept towards the washed out road, hoping that no one was at Ambrose besides his brothers, that'd be a real thorn in his side and would surely ruin his plan. As he drove through the town he breathed out a sigh of relief as he noticed nothing out of the ordinary, even better that Bo was too busy in his garage to pay any attention to him as he drove by and up to the house.

Lester was careful with taking everything in, not wanting to make too much commotion in case Vincent was up in the house and not in his workshop. Finally everything was set in the kitchen, he even cleaned up a little, more in compensation for taking and making a mess of the dishes but he wanted it to look a little nicer. He was giddy and he didn't know what to do next, did he get Bo or Vincent first? He really hoped they would like it, he would understand if they didn't, but he really did want today to be good for them. He decided to put on some music to drown out the silence the house held, it always unsettled him how quiet it could get.

Soon Lester was accompanied by the sound of Johnny Cash's 'Big River' and the house felt less vacant, he knew his brother's liked different types of music but they never grew out of their taste of the old country tapes his parents had. For a second he wondered if maybe the music might throw everything off, remind them too much of ma and pa, but he pushed the thought down when he remembered how well Bo and music paired after a few drinks.

After he decided everything was ready, Lester headed off to the House of Wax first, seeing as Vincent would listen to him if he asked him to wait in the living room whereas Bo would demand to know what's going on. Jonesy pranced alongside him, her collar jingling softly as she bounced with each step. "Hey girl, you excited?" He asked as they stopped outside the House of Wax before leaning down to pet her head. Jonesy barked and her tail wagged as she basked in the affection Lester was giving her.

The two were in and out quick, Lester telling Vincent to wait for him in the living room and leaving before his brother could respond. It had been easy but he knew getting Bo to come without question would be harder. As he and Jonesy walked to the gas station he went over in his head how would ask Bo without giving away too much, did they even know it was their birthdays? Lester stopped in his tracks.

Did they even know it was their birthdays?

Surely they had to, if they did they hadn't said anything about it. It made him sad when he thought about how it meant nothing to them, but to him it was the biggest day ever, it was the day two of the most important people came to be, two people he loved so much it hurt. He'd be damned if he let his parents continue to torment his brothers from the grave, to hell with them, Lester and his brothers were better without them and he'd show them.

With new found confidence he marched to the garage where his older brother was, head ducked under a hood of some car doing god knows what. Without looking up Bo called to him, "Hand me that wrench will'ya?" He extended his hand and waited for Lester to drop the metal tool in his hand before continuing to tinker with the vehicle. After a few beats Bo addressed him again, "Wha'cha want? M'busy."

Lester wrung the hem of his shirt in his hands as his mind scrambled to find what to say, finally settling on "I need ya up at th'house, got sumn to show ya." He turned on his heel and made his way back to the family home, ignoring Bo's demands for an answer. "I guess you'll have t'come and find out I s'pose!" He hollered back at his brother.

Upon entering the house Lester saw Vincent sitting on the couch, waiting like he expected him to be. Not too long after Lester came in Bo followed, his brows furrowed in confusion as he looked at both of his brothers. "Kay what? Th'hell you drag me up here for? Wha'cha gotta show me?"

Lester motioned for them to follow as he led them to the kitchen, Jonesy racing to be in front of the brothers, evidently more excited than the three men. On arrival Bo asked again what was going on and Lester so badly wished his brother had more patience. "Well..." He had started as he glanced between his brothers and then towards the pan that sat on the kitchen table. "Happy birthday?" Automatically Bo let out and groan and Lester had to move to stop him from leaving.

"You dragged my ass all the way up'ere t'tell me that? I'on got time fer this shit, told'ya I was busy." He stared down at his little brother before watching as his twin inspected the pan, peeling back the foil to reveal a cake, or something resembling a cake-- was it a cake? The fuck Lester bring with him?

Vincent turned back to dig through a drawer, grabbing a cake cutter and some plates from a cabinet. Lester stared at his feet as he shuffled slightly, embarrassed from the rejection. "Might not be good but I made a cake, got y'all sumn too.." His voice was small as he spoke to his brother, avoiding eye contact as he lifted his gaze.

Bo's face fell from anger to neutral as he watched his baby brother fidget, obviously upset from his reaction. "Shit, what th'hell, I reckon I could use a break." He ignored how fast Lester's expression lifted and instead head towards the table where the cake laid, "This car'mel cake?" Bo's eyebrows shot up and Vincent handed him a plate, he was shocked, he didn't know Lester was able to make it. He cut him a nice sized piece with his fork and shoveled it into his mouth.

Okay maybe he got ahead of himself with assuming.

The cake was mealy and the icing was burnt, the fuck did Lester do to this poor cake?

Lester watched as Bo stood there, a bite in his mouth but now chewing. "Well.. i'shure ish a cake" Bo muttered from behind the ruined dessert, trying to not hurt his brother's feelings too bad.

"Oh." Lester felt his shoulders slump and he held back a sigh, he had really really wanted the cake to be decent, "Y'ain't gotta eat it f'is bad.." He mumbled and watched as Vincent chewed his bite very slowly. Bo was quick to swallow, spitting it out would be too rude and he didn't think he could handle his little brother being more upset from the gesture. "Tasted like shit," he laughed and raked his plate in the trash before making his way to Lester, "well, it wasn't that bad but.." he paused, "but I sure do 'preciate it.." Before he could give it a second thought, Bo engulfed his little brother in his arms for a short embrace which Lester was quick to reciprocate. After a little Bo pulled away.

"So, what was that 'bout you gettin' us sumn?"

------------------------------

i didnt do much to correct any errors, its super late, hope yall enjoy it

#oooo this shit got me so soft #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #jonesy sinclair #house of wax #bo sinclair fluff #vincent sinclair fluff #lester sinclair fluff #house of wax 2005 #slasher writing #fluff #sinclair brothers #sinclair siblings #sinclair twins #houseofdabs writing #asks

[ikeromantic]

First Day

This is an Ikemen Sengoku coffee shop AU. Approx 1700 words. Nobunaga, the owner of Azuchi Cafe, hires a girl to work in his coffee shop alongside his other oddball employees.

Pastry Chef and little rain cloud: Ieyasu Tokugawa

Head Chef and irredeemable flirt: Masamune Date

Dining Room Manager and rule-master: Hideyoshi Toyotomi

Barista and most popular kid in your class: Ranmaru Mori

Barista and coffee disaster: Mitsunari Ishida

Accountant and walking bad-boy vibe: Mitsuhide Akechi

I have never written a coffee shop AU and I have no idea what I'm doing.

Nobunaga unlocked the back door at 3am. It was so early most people would still call it night, but he enjoyed the peace and quiet at this hour. As if he were the sole living human in a world of stray cats and blinking traffic lights.

He flipped on the lights and began morning prep. As the owner of Azuchi Cafe, he didn’t need to be the shop opener, but he was the kind of man who’d never ask his employees to do something he wouldn’t do himself. This meant he often worked from opening until close, cleaning the kitchen at 10pm. It was something he was proud of, even if it was exhausting some days.

Ieyasu arrived a few minutes later, along with the morning shipment. Fresh fruit, cream, some new coffee bean varieties, and other items he stocked daily. The blond was quiet as he helped unload. Not a morning person, not by a longshot.

Once the crates were inside, Ieyasu made a beeline for the espresso machine and had two cups on the counter before Nobunaga completed his inventory check.

The blond downed both cups and then got started in the kitchen. He was too smart for a cafe job - easily one of the best bakers Nobunaga had ever met. And this cafe was blessed with two, though the other man was a polar opposite of the silent, serious Ieyasu Tokugawa.

As if thinking of him summoned him, the back door swung open and in swaggered Masamune. “Good morning!” His voice was loud and vibrant, as always. He never needed caffeine to feel awake - Masamune was naturally caffeinated.

“D’you have to be so loud?” Ieyasu glared.

“Do you have to be such a grouch?” Masamune raised his one eyebrow. His other eye was covered with a pirate-style eyepatch. The look wasn’t just for effect. He’d lost his left eye to a childhood illness, but that hadn’t dampened his spirit or enthusiasm.

Ieyasu held up a dough covered middle finger in response and went back to making croissants.

Masamune put a hand to his heart. “Such cruelty.”

“Stop bickering and start cooking.” Nobunaga tried to sound stern but couldn’t help the little smile on his lips.

The two of them did, though the grumbling and sniping never really stopped.

While Ieyasu handled bakery items, Masamune was in charge of the grill. Hot sandwiches, soups, and whatever else he decided to put on the menu. Nobunaga had given up trying to restrain him. The man was a genius cook, and whatever he made sold, so it made sense to give him his head.

Akechi showed up next. Mitsuhide was an accountant by trade, with a law degree besides. He didn’t technically work at the shop, but he did the books and didn’t charge much for the work. Nobunaga wasn’t sure why he spent so much time at the cafe, but he’d become a fixture. Showing up before opening to do Azuchi’s books and then sitting in the dining area, working on his laptop for hours.

“Anything I should know about,” Nobunaga called, before Mitsuhide disappeared into the cafe office.

“If there was, I’d tell you. Probably.” Mitsuhide gave him his trademark smile, sly like a fox.

“It’s that probably that worries me.” Nobunaga frowned. He didn’t actually believe Mitsuhide would sabotage him. Not after so many years as a client. But with that man, you never quite knew where you stood.

Akechi shrugged. “I can’t think of a reason not to - but you never know.” He disappeared into the office, and soon the only sound from that room was the clacking of a keyboard.

The sky to the east was beginning to lighten, the stars fading from view. It would be time to open soon. As if on cue, Mitsunari showed up with Ranmaru in tow. They were the baristas, taking orders, making coffee, and serving the sit-down diners.

“Isn’t it a beautiful morning?” Mitsunari said this to Ieyasu’s back as he passed him.

The blond snorted. “It looks like every morning. Literally, exactly the same.”

“And every morning is beautiful.” Mitsunari Ishida smiled. “I am so lucky to work with such wonderful people. It will be a great day. I can feel it.”

Ranmaru laughed. “Absolutely. Just ignore old grumble-pants here. We are going to have an awesome day.”

“I am not old,” Ieyasu snapped.

“You are compared to me!” Ranmaru was the youngest in the crew, and he liked to remind the others about it.

“That’s enough. Get up to the front and prep the display. Both of you.” Nobunaga pointed toward the front counter.

Ranmaru gave him a pouty look, but did as he was told. Despite his penchant for causing trouble in the kitchen, he was great with customers, and pretty reliable.

Mitsunari didn’t seem to realize he’d been in the middle of the bickering. He just smiled and followed Ranmaru to the front.

That one, Nobunaga thought, was dangerous. At first impression, Mitsunari Ishida seemed like an airhead. Cheerful to the point of being vapid, and clumsy as well. But he could take orders faster than anyone else, remember which customer had which preference, and quote the menu without a glance at the board on the wall. He was great, so long as you didn’t ask him to pour the coffee.

At opening, Hideyoshi finally sidled in. He was the dining room manager, in charge of the servers, and everything on the front end. Nobunaga trusted him implicitly. Most cafe owners had to worry about theft and inattention from their cash-handling employees, but not him. Not with Hideyoshi Toyotomi at the counter. That man was a veritable saint, if sometimes a little melodramatic about his service.

“I know you told me I didn’t need to be here until 10, since you open. But I couldn’t let you handle everything alone.” Hideyoshi’s version of ‘good morning’ as he tied his apron on.

Nobunaga sighed. “You are my closing manager, Hideyoshi. You’re going to be stuck here until 10 or 11 tonight . . . and you realize, I do have employees here, helping, right?”

Toyotomi nodded. “Sure, sure. But extra hands always help with morning rush, right?”

“Right. And that’s why I have a new hire coming in at 8.” Nobunaga sighed.

“A new hire?” Mitsunari’s violet gaze lit up. “Will I get to train them?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Ieyasu grumbled. “We want them to make coffee, not learn how to dump the pot on the floor.”

“Stop being so mean,” Ranmaru sniped back, defending Mitsunari.

“Hey, hey! The new employee isn’t gonna get trained by any of you. Clearly, the boss is going to put them with me. To pass on my culinary genius.” Masamune’s one eye sparkled.

“No, no, and absolutely not,” Nobunaga said, raising his voice. “Hideyoshi and I are going to train them. If the lot of you don’t terrify them into quitting on their first day.”

And that was the end of that discussion. It was 5am and the door opened. The steady stream of customers kept everyone busy for the next few hours. Lattes and cappuccinos, americanos and macchiatos, and decaf for those in denial. The flow began to slack as 8am approached. Most people were at work now, coffee in hand.

Clean-up started in the kitchen, and Hideyoshi began on the dining room.

The glass front door opened at 8am sharp. The new hire walked in. This wasn’t Nobunaga’s first time meeting her, but he still felt a twang in his chest as she smiled brightly at no one in particular.

“I hope I’m not late!”

Hideyoshi eyed her up and down, nodding to himself. Flat shoes, cute but practical. Hair pulled back sensibly - stylish, but not overdone. Professional clothes, fitted and comfortable. He hadn’t been part of the interview but he was feeling pretty positive about this candidate. He gave Nobunaga a nod.

“No, you’re right on time,” Mitsunari replied, leaning on the counter. His angelic smile was fixed on her.

The impact was obvious. One did not face the pure, focused joy of Mitsunari and not feel it. She blinked for a moment, stunned, her cheeks flushing. “Oh. Well that’s good, right?”

“Sure is,” Ranmaru said, coming around the side of the bakery display. He wiped his hands on his apron and held one out to her. “Welcome to Azuchi!”

“Hey, that’s my line,” Nobunaga grumbled.

“Yeah, but I’m cuter when I say it.” Ranmaru’s cheek reply got a chuckle from Masamune.

The one-eyed chef came out from the kitchen to observe. He wasn’t looking for whatever qualities Hideyoshi had, but what he saw made him grin. “Well, lass, I’d say welcome again but that’d make me look like an idiot. How ‘bout I help you put on an apron and show you around the place?”

“Again, my line,” Nobunaga said tiredly.

Ieyasu poked his head out from the back and sighed heavily. “Great. Another fluff head to train. Look, when you get bored listening to these idiots, come find me in the kitchen. I’ll try to teach you to bake. I’m sure you can manage a simple recipe. Probably.”

The girl looked unsure how to respond. She finally shrugged. “Yeah, ok! I’m here to work, so whatever you want to teach me, I want to learn.”

“You’d be better off learning how to keep the books,” said an amused voice behind Ieyasu.

The girl’s eyes darted up as Mitsuhide came out from the back. “Not that I’m hiring. I don’t do internships either,” he continued. He stepped out from behind the counter and closed in on her like a stalking cat. His golden eyes slid down from her face, over her chest and hips, down her legs, and back up, slow as syrup. “Though I can think of some reasons to make an exception.” He handed her a business card. “For when you tire of this service job.”

“Ah, thanks?” She glanced at the card and by the time she looked up again he was gone.

“Everyone, get back to work. I’m handling the new hire. You’ll all get a chance to train with her. I want her to work swing, so she’ll need to know a little of everything.” Nobunaga clapped once.

The workers all got back to it, though not without plenty of backward glances.

Hideyoshi handed the girl an apron. “Good luck!”

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen nobunaga #ikesen ranmaru #ikesen mitsuhide #ikesen mitsunari #ikesen masamune #ikesen ieyasu #coffee shop au #fanfiction #fanfic #otome guys #otome #fluff

[random-imagines-blog]

4 AM {Cedric Diggory x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 3665 Summary: You’re a transfer student at Hogwarts, and all of these changes are feeling restless. You develop a late-night hobby, but a handsome Hufflepuff catches on.

Everybody needed a bit of time to adjust to new surroundings, like a new school. You took a bit of extra time, considering you were in a new continent, a new culture, a new school and a new house on top of all of it. Transferring from Ilvermorny was a tough thing to do, but you did it at the insistence of your parents, who felt that being at Hogwarts under Albus Dumbledore was far better than your old situation. Much safer, they had put it, despite the Chamber of Secrets and Quirrel and Sirius Black. But hey - safety right? At least there was the opportunity to meet new people, something that you liked doing. And maybe you could pick up a cool British accent while you’re over here. They always sounded so sophisticated, while your American accent was just ... American.

You had been sorted privately into the Slytherin house, which sounded well and good until you reached the common room. It was a bit dreary, you thought. Too much leather on these couches, not enough comfortable fabrics. You became too nervous to sit down in case the seats would squeak and make people think that you had farted. The other Slytherins weren’t the most welcoming, and they didn’t give you a hand as you brought your bags up the staircase to your dormitory. You had to use magic to get them there. The most that you had been given were a couple of side glances. This wasn’t going to be as easy as you had hoped.

On your first night, you had a lot of trouble sleeping. Tossing and turning in the old fashioned four-poster bed. In America, waterbeds were in fashion and you had gotten used to the rolling feeling rather than the roughness of a mattress. It was a good thing that you brought a couple of pepper-up potions to take in the morning just in case this exact thing were to happen.

-

You had carefully chosen your classes for your sixth year. You planned on doing big things with your life after you had graduated, even if you weren’t sure exactly yet what these things were. You took many of the basics, Potions, DADA, Charms, Transfigurations, etc, but also some things like Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies. You didn’t plan on living among muggles, especially, but you loved the way that they did things. They found inventive ways to work around magic, and you always felt more accomplished when you did things in the muggle way. Especially your secret passion - baking.

A lot of your classes happened to be with the Hufflepuff house, who were a bit wary of you at first, but then became genuinely friendly, and much more welcoming than your own house. Despite the differences, you started to hang out with them more than the Slytherins, which didn’t make dorm life particularly comfortable at times. You still found it hard to sleep in there, and had taken to some night time wandering.

It might be the deviousness of the Slytherin house in you, but you figured out some ways to work around the patrols. If you didn’t leave the castle, you didn’t run the risk of running into Dementors. If you stayed in one place, such as a classroom or the kitchens, you were less likely to get caught by the prefects wandering the halls. You were also able to overhear Cedric Diggory, a handsome boy in your year, tell some fifth year prefects the better ways to go, so you now knew how to avoid them as well.

The kitchens were where you usually ended up going. In Muggle Studies at your old school, you learned a lot about how they baked and they cooked without magic. It wasn’t instant, the way that magic was. You buy a roast, you do a cooking spell, and boom - perfectly cooked beef every time. There were spells to whip the potatoes into the perfect peaks, spells to make icing the perfect consistency for cupcakes, even spells for chopping vegetables if you were feeling lazy. The House Elves in these kitchens didn’t use these spells, they did things more by hand, and it was fascinating to watch. You started coming in on these restless nights as they were making bread for the morning’s toast, and one elf in particular was eager to show you how she did it.

“Then you kneed it like this!” She said in a high-pitched voice, showing you with her bony hands. She moved over so that you could give it a try. The dough was surprisingly warm, and pliable beneath your own fingers. You couldn’t help but smile as the feeling of it filled you with warmth. You could see why muggle bakers woke up as early as four in the morning to do all of this. The smells of the baking loaves wafted over to you and you took a deep breath in, and then a deep breath out. You could spend all day in here, you decided. The only thing that was keeping you from doing so were your classes.

-

‘Why were you sneaking around last night?’

The note landed on your textbook as you were reading quietly in Transfiguration class. You hid it quickly beneath the book, looking around to try to see who sent it. Your eyes landed on Cedric, who was looking at you equally as closely. You turned away quickly, flushing. You didn’t think that anyone had seen you sneaking away from the kitchens this morning, going back to the dormitory before anyone else woke up. You had been certain that you were careful.

When McGonagall was seated at her desk, you took the note out and wrote back.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

As you signed the period, the note slipped away from under your quill, fell to the floor, whooshed it’s way to Cedric, seemed to climb up his desk and land on his own textbook. Seemed a little silly, you thought. You could have just handed it to him when the Professor was turned around instead of wasting a spell on it. You thought that the conversation was over and dealt with, when the note came right back to you again.

‘I saw you this morning, near my common room. What have you been up to?’

You scrunched your eyebrows and pursed your lips. There was a murderer on the loose, you knew that, hence the extra security measures but - did anyone really suspect you of having something to do with that? You hadn’t even heard of Sirius Black until you went to Diagon Alley for school supplies!

Rather than write anything back, you underlined the sentence that you had written before. The note didn’t seem happy with that, since it didn’t immediately rush back to Cedric. So you folded up the parchment, waited until an opportune moment, then tossed it over at Cedric. He was apparently not expecting that, because it bounced off his head and onto the floor. There were a few sniggers from other students, which caught McGonagall’s attention. Before she could see the note, Cedric had pressed his shoe over the top of it. She sniffled, then went back to reading, expecting the rest of the class to do the same.

You watched out of the corner of your eye as he slid the note towards himself. When he finally read it, he glared at you, which made you feel uncomfortable. You weren’t ready to give up your baking secret, or even to admit you were breaking the rules for it was forbidden for a student to be out of bed after hours. But still - he couldn’t really suspect you of harboring a killer - could he?

-

You had taken a break from going to the kitchens at night, as much as it hurt you to do so. Now that you knew that the Hufflepuff Common Room was close to the kitchens, it felt too dangerous to do it. Especially with Cedric Diggory on the watch for you. You’d noticed him looking at you from time to time, during meals or class times. It felt less suspicious than your note passing in class, and more like - studying.

After a week had passed though, you couldn’t wait any longer. The house elf that you had befriended had told you that you could help her make cakes for dessert! Now that was something that you were interested in, since you thought maybe you’ve mastered bread. Waiting until the others in your dorm were sleeping, you slipped on your darkest robe and left the common room, making for some of the lesser-used stairs to get up to the kitchens. You would still have to pass the Hufflepuff portrait, though, there was no avoiding that. You stuck to the shadows as much as you could, and stopped often, looking behind you for a sign of prefects. The coast seemed clear.

You tickled the pear in the portrait, which giggled at being touched, then opened up to reveal the busy kitchens, getting ready for the morning ahead. Your friend, a house elf that barely reached your waist and was named Daisy, waved at you from by the massive fireplace which heated soups and stews for the whole castle. You started heading towards her when a hand wrapped gently around your wrist, keeping you in place. You figured out who it was before you even turned around.

“Cedric Diggory,” You groaned, turning around. His amber colored eyes took in the sight of you, dressed in your pajamas with a dark robe covering your body. You were planning to take it off and put on one of the aprons, but he hadn’t given you the time to do that yet. “Are you stalking me?”

“You don’t get to ask the questions. What are you doing in here?” He asked, looking around the kitchens now as if he had just realized what he had walked into. A house elf whistled happily as it walked by with a big baking pan, three loaves on it nearly tottering off. But he never lost his balance. “Why are we in the kitchens?”

“I know why I’m in the kitchens,” You said, pushing his hand off of your arm. You turned around to head over to Daisy. “As for you, I don’t know. I still think you’re stalking me.”

“A Slytherin who sneaks out after hours isn’t up to any good,” He said. You rolled your eyes at the stereotype - it was getting old already.

“Technically, I’m a Thunderbird, that will be always be my home house,” You explained, still feeling much more American than you were European. “So none of that evil snake business, thank you, badger.”

You walked towards your friend, smiling so as not to show that anything was wrong. House-elves could sometimes worry too much for their own good, and it could affect their work. You did not want Cedric’s following of you to cause an innocent student some food poisoning. You took her offered apron, and switched out your robes for it, folding down the front nicely. The Hufflepuff boy had hesitantly followed. He might not have trusted you, but he had faith in the house-elves that they wouldn’t do anything bad.

“So what are we doing today, Daisy?” You asked happily, approaching her counter. She was a cute little thing, dressed in a bright yellow smock with an apron over top.

“We are making cakes!” She said, clapping with excitement. It had taken you a little while to get used to her high-pitched voice, especially when she sang, which she often did while working. “Vanilla and strawberry because it’s almost Spring!”

She set you to work mixing ingredients while she measured them. You could see Cedric hovering out of the corner of your eye, unsure of what to make of all this. “Oh come on,” You said finally, not being able to take it any longer. The batter that you were working on was enough to make perhaps three cakes, but there would have to be much more than that before the day is through. “You can help with this, you know. Or are you scared of getting a little dirty?”

You put your fingers in flour and flicked some at him. It landed on his pajama shirt. He tried to wipe it off but it just made a white smear, which made you giggle. “I guess I might as well,” He said, finally letting his guard down. Daisy found him another apron, and set him about working on his own bowl of cake mix.

“No, no,” You said, seeing how fast he was mixing. It had even alarmed Daisy, who wouldn’t dare say anything bad about it. You could just gauge by how big her eyes got. “Slowly - you fold in the eggs, you don’t just ... make it go wild like that. We want a fluffier texture. There’s such a thing as over mixing, isn’t there Daisy?”

“That’s right!” She squeaked.

Cedric conceded. He went a little slower this time, taking your direction rather well. You added in the last bits of vanilla to the mix, then helped to measure them into the pans that Daisy had taken away to put into the oven. “What now?” He asked, wiping his hands on his apron.

“We do it again - unless you’re wanting to go and get a bit more sleep,” You shrugged. “Though that means you’re going to miss the best part.”

“And what’s that?” He asked, raising one of his bushy eyebrows. He didn’t have suspicion in his eyes anymore. In fact, you might almost say it looked like he was having fun.

“The decorating! Fresh strawberries, whipped cream, enough icing to send me into a sugar coma. Oh, it’s Heaven. I’ve been waiting for this day for weeks now.” You said, your mouth nearly watering as you thought about all of the treats that you were going to make. “And then, after dinner tonight, we’ll be at our tables and voila! Cakes! And nobody knows we helped to make them which makes it feel sneaky.”

“Knew there would be a catch,” Cedric said, picking up another mixing bowl since the other one had been taken away for cleaning. “I knew you were heading out at night for some reason. I just didn’t expect it to be this.”

“Oh, so just because I’m Slytherin, you think that I was up to no good?” You asked, feeling offended by his assumptions. You picked up a new mixing bowl as well, and a clean spoon.

“Well...” Cedric said, rubbing the back of his neck. You were both in an awkward waiting position until Daisy came back to measure ingredients once more. “How was I to know it would be this?”

“You could have asked rather than accusing me by note,” You shrugged, spinning the spoon around in your hands. You could smell some of the other bakers beginning to prepare the whipped icing that would be going on the cake. It was beginning to make your mouth water. They might as well be working with ambrosia, the food of the gods.

The little house elf did come running with her measuring cups to weight out ingredients and you were finally able to get back to work. Surprisingly, Cedric stayed. He stayed as the cakes were brought out of the oven and put to freeze to make them easier to ice. He stayed as you struggled with a piping bag, and ended up with frosting all over your apron.

“Stop laughing,” You said, as you saw that he was chuckling. He turned away but you could still feel his shoulders move. You glared at him, wiped a glob off your apron and onto your finger, then flicked it right at the back of his neck. That made him stop real quick. He turned back to look at you and you gave him your widest grin. “Oops.”

“No food fights, please!” Daisy wheezed, which put an end to whatever Cedric was thinking about. He wiped it off, onto his apron, then chuckled again.

“Yeah, no food fights,” He repeated to you, as if you were the one getting the scolding. You rolled your eyes, then went back to trying to get the piping bag right. You managed, without exploding it this time, and wasting the precious icing. Still though, you took little dallops of it off your apron and stuck it into your mouth, savoring the flavor.

“Has there ever been a food fight at Hogwarts?” You wondered allowed, stepping back to admire your handiwork. You could imagine one happening in the Great Hall, given how much food was in there on a constant basis. Cedric looked a little surprise that you were asking him in such a pleasant tone rather than the snippiness that you had been passing back and forth.

“A couple of years ago,” Cedric said, smiling as he thought about it. “You know the Weasley twins, from the Gryffindor Quidditch team? They started one in their first year. Now there’s a spell on the tables where it can’t happen anymore.”

“I hope Dumbledore forgets one year. Because now, I gotta start one.” You said, thinking that you had to talk to these twins about how they did it. And maybe a Ravenclaw for counter-spells.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Cedric said, winking at you over his own creation. His was a lot messier than yours, but it would hopefully taste good, that’s what was important. “Strawberries?”

“Strawberries,”  You affirmed. A house elf came over with a basket of the fresh fruit, just washed and shiny. You go to work with a knife now, which seemed a little dangerous. As you took it up to cut the leaves off, you looked over at Cedric. He already had the knife in hand and was chopping surprisingly well. He seemed to have some talent other than Quidditch and a winning smile. And - best of all, he seemed to trust that you weren’t going to attack with him the knife. Pretty big deal for a Slytherin.

When the cakes that you were making were finished, you took off the apron and stiffled a yawn. In the time that it had taken you and Cedric to make three a piece, house elves had finished a couple dozen. Yours and his weren’t as picture perfect as the others, but you were happy with your work nonetheless. “Alright, well, g’night...” You said, stretching as you went into the hallway. You could faintly see the sun beginning to rise through the window, the sky no longer black but a lighter shade of navy.

“This was fun,” Cedric admitted, turning to look at you, flour staining the front of his once-perfect robes where the apron didn’t cover. “You do this every night?”

“It’s usually just bread that I make,” You admitted. “The cake was much more fun than that. But bread is really cool, the way that it’s made with just the simplest things. I think I want to become a baker after graduating, but who knows...” You shrugged. The world was still a dark place. But surely that meant that there was going to be more of a need for baked goods to lighten the load and make people feel a little better.

“You’re great at it,” Cedric complimented. Well, that was a nice touch. The Golden boy of Hufflepuff was giving you a compliment, and making you feel a bit of the honeyglow.

“Thanks.” You said. You took a couple of steps down the hallway which would lead you to the stairs down towards the dungeons, but you stopped, turning around. “Are you going to tell on me?”

“No,” Cedric said, after taking a couple of seconds to think. “I might join you again sometime, though.”

“Well that’s fine then,” You said with a smile. “Goodnight, Cedric.”

“Good morning, y/n,” Cedric said, running his fingers through his hair once more, before turning himself to go to his own dormitory. You laughed as you watched him go, then hurried yourself along to get ready for the day.

-

At dessert the next night, you were surprised to see not one of the picture perfect cakes that the elves had made, but rather one of the haphazard ones that was definitely Cedric’s. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you saw the uneven strawberries and the frosting dripping over the sides. The Slytherin girl next to you commented on how it looked ‘like a child had made it’ and got up to go down the table to one of the nicer looking cakes.

You eagerly took a piece. The cake itself was perfection, it was just the uneven frosting that made it look a little wonky. As you cut into it, you looked over to the Hufflepuff table to catch eyes with the baker himself. He had one of your cakes in front of him, and had loaded two pieces onto his plate. He gave you his heart-melting smile and you returned the sentiment. You stabbed a piece of the cake onto your fork and held it up as if in cheers. He did the same.

It wasn’t the same as eating with him exactly, but it was nice nonetheless. You had become restless during the nights because of how homesick you were, and you found something which could become a life-long love. And, well, you really didn’t mind that Cedric was along for the ride.

#Cedric Diggory x reader #Cedric Diggory #Cedric Diggory oneshot #Harry Potter #Harry Potter oneshot #oneshot #one shot #cedricd #request #x reader

[newtonsheffield]

Guys, we need to talk about something.

It's very important.

It's Edwina + Mary + Anthony +Their Love of Great British Bakeoff

Kate liked cooking, she really did, some of her best memories were of her sitting in the kitchen with her Dad while he rattled off lists of ingredients to Mary in Tamil, both of them moving around the kitchen in sync, Kate always a step behind watching the beautiful chaos a little awed. And perhaps it wasn't flattering, but she loved when Anthony cooked. Not just because it made her feel loved and cared for that he'd go to the effort of all of this, just for her, but because he looked so ridiculously hot while doing it. He always had his sleeves rolled up, a neat apron on and his brow furrowed while he laboured away in the kitchen, the temperature hiking not only because of the stove. Yes, Anthony Bridgerton was ridiculously hot when he cooked. What was very not hot, was how much he loved The Great British Bakeoff.

It had started at brunch one Sunday, Mary and Edwina unpacking the latest episode while Mary flipped pancakes same as they always did when a season was airing, Kate mostly tuning it out. For all her love of cooking, competition baking shows weren't really her thing. She'd been sitting at the table, her legs thrown over Anthony's whispering something, perhaps a little too filthy, in his ear given her Mother and Sister were only a few feet from them, when he suddenly said Are you guys talking about Bakeoff?! Edwina had practically spun off her chair at Anthony's excited tone, Mary's spatula frozen halfway to the pan. Yes? She said lightly. Anthony leapt into the conversation surprising Kate What do you guys think of this new round of bakers? I think Lottie's obviously hilarious and I'm sure Laura's tastes good but her presentation is sloppy at best. Mary was still staring open mouthed, Edwina practically agog. Kate recovered first, What the fuck Anthony? Anthony turned towards her a little surprised Do you not like Bakeoff? He was clearly equally affronted. Kate opened her mouth to respond, a little surprised., but Edwina got there first. Sadly she's a heathen, every family has to have a disappointment. Mary hummed sympathetically though turned to Anthony clearly falling a little more in love with the idea of him as Kate's boyfriend than she already was, Now Anthony, have you ever made battenberg? And while Kate couldn't help but feel she'd slipped into a parallel universe as Anthony leapt into a description of the time that he had in fact made a battenberg cake, she had to admit, it was a little nice to see him interacting with her family this effortlessly.

Mary Sheffield wouldn't say she was necessarily intimidated by Anthony Bridgerton, but he was an imposingly successful person, for so young a man. He was tall, and a little disarmingly attractive particularly when he smiled with his entire face as he did when he looked at Kate, and he seemed so oddly formal all the time, perhaps a habit from his upbringing. It wasn't that she thought he was an unkind man, in fact she was rather attached to the idea of him being the father of her grandchildren one day, but the very last thing she expected him to say when he sidled up next to her at the end of brunch one day was Mary, I ahh I know that you usually watch bake off with Eddie, and I don't want to intrude or insert myself into your family God I wish you would, you can marry Kate tomorrow Mary had thought a little wildly, But I would be very honoured if you would maybe consider watching it at my house sometime. Um you and Eddie can both come, and Kate will be there, and I'll make dinner! He'd finished, the words spilling from his mouth before he could stop them, eager and he looked so young and excited that Mary's own heart had done an odd little flutter at her daughter's boyfriend being so sweet that he would sit and watching a baking show with her. Oh Anthony that sounds wonderful, Eddie and I will come this week. And the smile that had crossed his face was so breathtaking that Mary didn't have to wonder why Kate had fallen in love with him at all. And surely enough she arrived at Anthony's that week to find the table ladened with food, and a slightly confused looking Kate whose eyes flitted between them as they discussed the show and the techniques used. Mary had pulled Kate into a tight hug as she'd left whispering Katie, he's a very sweet man. You should marry him. in her ear at the end and despite the fact that Kate looked away embarrassedly she'd whispered I'll try.

Really, over the years, Kate had gotten almost used to the mania that engulfed Anthony during bakeoff season. The fact that he spent all week perfecting whatever the technical challenge had been to present at brunch on Sunday, or that he tutted and sighed whenever his favourite contestant left, and at least she had Matt now who despite being an expert baker himself was only so so on the show itself though he was rather more enamoured with Edwina's love of it that Kate was of Anthony's. But it really got out of hand when Edwina won celebrity Bake off, and presented the trophy to Anthony. That trophy became the bane of Kate's existence. It sat, in their Kitchen, in pride of place, right where a picture of the two of them used to rest, and while he would never admit to it, she knew he polished it regularly. This is the best thing that's ever happened to me He said proudly when he looked at it, Kate scoffing bemusedly. Anthony we have two children together. Anthony shrugged. Indignation flared in Kate's chest. If you could only do one thing: Take me and the boys to Disneyland which you know Edmund's desperate to do or go on Bakeoff what would it be? Anthony barely looked at her as he said Don't do this Kate, You'll only upset yourself.

#bridgerton and sons au #kathony #anthony x kate #great british bake off #anthony bridgerton #kate sheffield #kate sharma #mary sheffield #mary sharma #edwina sheffield #edwina sharma #molly's asks and answers

[pinkjeanist]

“cooking by the book!” || katsuki bakugou

     ⇥ When Bakugou teaches 1-A how to bake a cake for an upcoming festival, you can’t help but notice how he treats you a little nicer than the others. But that’s just your crush on him talking...right? [1.6k words]

a/n: this is named after that remix of “cooking by the book” from lazy town bc no other song captures the pure essence of bakugou and reader’s relationship. this was also largely inspired by the difference in how gordon ramsay treats kid chefs vs. adult ones.[navigation]

You should have known that taking cooking lessons from Bakugou wasn’t going to be easy. However, with the way he taught you differently from everyone else, you had to admit: it could have been a lot harder.

“You’re gonna bake a cake, today.” You looked down at the empty mixing bowl before you, biting the inside of your cheek. You’d heard that baking was somewhat difficult to begin with, including (but not limited to) cake, and for Bakugou to choose that as your first proper baking session ever made you a bit intimidated (though whether you were intimidated by him or the cake was unclear).

Another school festival was coming up, and your class was expected to bake for the guests, which would have been okay if both halves of your class were competent enough to use an oven. So here you were, standing behind one of the many kitchen counters, trying not to stare too much ahead at Bakugou. You caught yourself doing that a lot on the daily, and even if you sometimes caught him doing the same, it was rude on your part. So, long before you’d even stepped foot in the kitchen, you decided that you would put your feelings aside and focus on the task at hand (which was already proving difficult).

After preheating the ovens, you all went back to your stations. You reached for the apron on the counter and slipped it over your head. Next to you, Kirishima asked his friend, “Are we supposed to do that?”

“Are you kidding me? Is that a question?” You paused in tying the apron behind your back as Bakugou raised his voice. “Yes, you dumbass! Who the hell doesn’t bake without an apron?!” 

You nodded even as his shouting wasn’t directed towards you, and again attempted to tie the apron behind your back until you realized it just wouldn’t stay tied. You almost asked Kirishima or Mina to help you before Bakugou came over to grab the strings and do it himself. You went still, and didn’t quite hear him the first time when he mumbled, “Is that too tight?” 

You swallowed. “It’s fine, thank you…” 

He moved back in front of the counters again and tied his own apron. “You each have a recipe in front of you. Don’t use it unless you need it. If you listen to me, you won’t need it at all.” 

You nodded and put your hands behind your back, not sure what else to do with them until he instructed the ten or so of you to find the flour. The others scrambled to the part of the kitchen you knew had flour somewhere around it, but you distinctly remembered there being another, smaller bag of it in a different pantry, so you went there instead. You retrieved it and presented it to Bakugou.

“Is this flour?”

He blinked. “No. That’s sugar.”

“Oh…”

“You’ll need it. Take it back to your station.”

“Oh, okay!” You smiled. Turning on your heel, you did as he instructed, and waited patiently until you were told to find the sugar (which you already had), baking soda, baking powder, cocoa, salt, and espresso powder. You tried to keep the list of the items in your mind as you turned to search for them, but found yourself at a loss. 

It was your fault for only partially-listening when Bakugou had given the instructions, but were you really to blame? He was wearing a sleeveless shirt under an apron that hugged him tight enough to show off his tiny waist. How were you supposed to have paid attention with that in front of you? 

But you wouldn’t say any of that to him- never in a million lifetimes- so you were as quiet and unassuming as possible as you took the recipe from the countertop and went over it. You knew where the flour was, and you had the sugar, but looking around the kitchen, you couldn’t spot anyone with espresso powder, which you didn’t even know was a thing that was supposed to go in cakes, but that wasn’t the point. You stood, biting your lip, until Bakugou came over again.

“What are you confused about?” His voice was a lot softer than you expected it to be, seeing as how he’d done nothing but yell at everyone else (you couldn’t blame him. Cooking was just that big of a passion for some people), but you couldn’t complain. You looked down at the recipe to avoid his eye.

“I’m not confused, I just- I don’t know who has the espresso powder.” 

Bakugou put a hand on your arm, and you tried not to melt under it as he shouted over your shoulder: “Who has the espresso powder?!”

“Is this it?” Kaminari lifted a large jar of brown powder over a sea of other bakers-in-training, which drew another rant from Bakugou about kitchen safety and do you want someone to get a concussion when you drop that?!, but you were still too focused on the weight of his hand. When he got done yelling, he squeezed your arm gently before looking down at you, and you swore you felt your heart stop before beating out of control. 

“Go and get a teaspoon of espresso powder. I’ll announce everything else, but if you forget the measurements, just look at the damn recipe.” 

You nodded and said, “Okay. Thank you, Bakugou.” 

Walking away, he muttered a quiet “you’re welcome,” and you could only smile to yourself as you looked back down at the recipe. 

Bakugou called out the measurements, and eventually, you had everything in the mixing bowl, and whisked through the powders until combined as instructed. You were then told to add milk (Bakugou measured that out for you without you needing to ask) and add two eggs (he did that for you, too) with vegetable oil and vanilla. Once you had everything in, you began to stir it, but apparently, whatever you were doing was wrong, because he moved behind you to take your hands in his on the side of the bowl and on the paddle. 

“You have to be more rough with it,” He muttered, moving your hands at a faster pace. “Or you’re gonna be standing here for three hours until it finally mixes.” 

You couldn’t even find the words, anymore. The voice that constantly nagged you in the voice told you that you were doing everything wrong, and that you were helpless for needing his assistance with each and every step, but you really couldn’t complain. Another voice told you that you were actually doing well and that he was helping you because he wanted to, not because he felt obligated, but you pushed that thought back. You knew that wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. (Could it, though? (No. No it couldn’t.))

After he decided it was mixed to his satisfaction, he stepped away and went to observe Kirishima’s bowl.

“Is it supposed to be this kinda poop brown?”

“Never fucking say that again about food. And what the fuck is this? Stir it!” Bakugou grabbed the bowl and stirred it with vigor while Kirishima stood by and laughed. He didn’t hold Kirishima like he’d held you. And as he went around to stir the bowls of others, he didn’t even lay his hands on those faring worse than you. You furrowed your brow, but elected to continue stirring to keep yourself busy. 

You were then told to put the batter in the two prepared pans in front of you, with the word “evenly” stressed after the fact. Bakugou again walked over to you as you got done. “Is this okay?” 

He huffed. “This one has more batter, but it’ll do. Go put them in the oven.” 

You nodded and put the pans in the oven, nearly dropping and spilling one on the way before catching it- but other than that, they went in smoothly. Over the next half hour, you took Bakugou’s advice and used a toothpick to check the center of the cakes, and sat on the flour-covered counters in the meantime while they baked. Bakugou came to sit by you while you twiddled your thumbs.

“You did a good job today.” 

You looked at him, then immediately back to the oven with wide eyes. “Oh. I-I feel like I messed everything up, to be honest…” 

“You did fine. You didn’t mess anything up.” He didn’t look at you, so you both kept staring at the oven, afraid of eye contact.

You hesitated before saying, “Thank you for helping me.” After a moment, you added, “You’re a really good teacher.” 

“I know.” His head whipped over to where Kaminari was about to eat a spoonful of cinnamon, and chucked a wooden spoon at his back. “Not in my kitchen, asshat!” 

You actually giggled at that, which was even more embarrassing with him looking at you afterwards. You quieted yourself soon after and shoved your hands into your lap. 

“Why do you do that?”

You blinked. “Do what?”

“You always stop laughing. You laugh enough with your friends but never with me. Stop doing that.”

“Who says you’re not my friend?” You asked before you could stop your tongue, then meeting his eye. You desperately wanted to look away, but the need for a connection with him was too strong. “You are. My friend, I mean. Uhm.”

“So laugh if I do something funny. It pisses me off when you don’t.” He hung his head to mess with his hands, and you grinned shyly to yourself as you turned away.

“Okay.”

When the cakes were pulled from the oven, Bakugou was by your side the most, helping stack the layers and frosting it with chocolate buttercream. In which, when your hand brushed against his as you frosted the cake, you didn’t shy away from him. You each stole little glances, meeting one another’s eye every now and again (which was starting to become less uncomfortable each time). 

You thought your cake was a little dry. He said it was the “best fucking thing” he’d ever eaten.

-

taglist: @keigos-dove​ @knifeewifee​ @wesparklebitch​ @bvnnyclouds​ @hanniejji​ @katsukis-sad-angel​

other tag/s: @pixxiesdust​

- dm/inbox to be added or removed from a taglist. 

#katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #reader insert #tw: language

[midnightmoonkiss]

Esoteric.

Witch!Izuku Midoriya X Fem!Reader

Summary: What was a witch, exactly? Someone who casts spells? Dabbled in medicine? Fought in battles? You didn’t know. That was, until you met one.

WARNINGS!: Soft!Dom!Izuku, Face-sitting, Fingering, Potion-play

Category: Smut

Word Count: 7.3k (more than half is like.. pure smut..)

A/N: The final day of the Izumonth Collab!

P.S. I really love Witch!Izuku, idk if you can tell,,, Also, I made the witch!collage above! ‘Tis just to suck you into the mood. And sorry this was.. a bit late.. heheh,,,

Just To Clarify:

You’re both consenting adults

Witches, though actually fairly rare, are seen as common beings

Witches aren’t human

Fantasy-ish au!

Tag List:

@coupsieddori​ @desia2​ @strwbrry-lia​ @my-bnha-things​

Every castle has a witch.

It’s been that way for as long as you, or anyone else, could remember.

It was normal.

Mundane to some.

Just something you’d hear about time and time again.

They were workers, just like you. 

But yet, that never stopped your sense of wonder.

They never were in plain sight, not for a peasant such as yourself, anyway.

It always brought up so many questions whenever you’d stop to think about it. 

What did they look like?

Were they nice, or wicked?

How did their magic work?

What did they wear?

Depending on the kingdom, most witches were treated like royalty, especially those who worked in castles.

Of course, how could someone so powerful not have such a title?

It made you question if it was given out of fear, or respect.

It wasn’t until you met the witch of Thidel castle, the ever-so-generous Izuku Midoriya, that your questions were all willingly answered.

You truly weren’t anticipating meeting him during such a catastrophe of a day. Looking back, it was quite embarrassing.

You were the baker’s assistant, tasked with making the batter to elaborate sweets for the King’s ball that evening.

The flour was freshly ground from the mill, the vanilla was as pure as a white daisy, the sugar ever-so-sweet, eggs fetched that morning, everything was perfect.

In fact, everything was running all nice and smoothly, until the King decided to ask for triple the amount of baked goods he had originally requested.

Not only did that mean running to town and back in shoes already falling apart, but that also meant stirring and stirring and stirring until it felt as if your arms were on fire and about to melt off.

You were covered in ingredients and sweat, the other bakers and assistants were running around, spilling things on each other, and making large messes as they pulled their hair out to get everything done on time.

It was chaos.

And that’s when he showed up.

You forgot what he was originally there for, herbs, perhaps?

Batter smudged on your cheek, you were carrying a large sack of flour to the mixing station when the door opened.

You slipped comedically on an egg that had fallen on the floor, and of course, you had to slam into this sudden brick wall of a man.

White powder flew everywhere, and the clock stopped in your head as you watched in horror as the last bag of flour you had was just about to spill all over the dirty cobblestone.

That’s when you saw it for the first time.

Magic.

He had simply flicked his wrist and all of the flour was back in its bag, and such a high ranking individual was on his knees, sputtering apologies to you.

To you, of all people.

A lowly peasant.

It felt unreal.

But that was how you met him.

He looked up and the first image he had of you forever imprinted in his head was wild (H/C) hair coated in sweat and flour, cheeks smudged with chocolate and dried batter, eyes wide with panic, and cheeks a burning red.

He never let you live it down, the bastard.

That night at the ball, you met him again. He had the gall to note how you cleaned up fast, all while sheepishly smiling at you like you were the only girl in the room.

You wanted to punch him at the time. Or die of embarrassment. He was still the witch after all, and never before had someone so high class spoken to you before. You were filled with so many emotions that night, you were sure you were going to throw up.

Instead, you smiled, offered him a pastry, and walked away.

He just had to follow you, though.

His reason being, “I was looking for some entertainment at such a boring event.”

It had made you laugh, as IF you were any entertainment. From then on, though, after having spent an entire night chatting the time away, he was as hooked on you as you were with him.

Nowadays, you got to frequent his studies often.

A privilege not many had, as apparently- witches were quite stubborn with letting people into their sanctuary and touching their things.

Perhaps it was a possessive trait of theirs, one that kept them from misplacing important potions, books, and ingredients, but nevertheless you were absolutely honored to be allowed somewhere so.. otherworldly.

The King and his youngest son were the only ones besides yourself allowed in.

But stepping inside would always be a slap to the face, no matter how many times you actually did enter.

It wasn’t exactly clear to you how he did it, or how the witch before him did it, but the small study tucked away on the east wing of the castle wasn’t a small study at all.

The old, heavy brown door was signed with words of a language unknown to you and others, the hinges creaking ever so slightly as you pulled it open, only to be met with a two-story home inside.

Your nose was always immediately hit with the earthy scent of rain and plants, no doubt from the plethora of the heavenly greens hanging about the place, glowing orbs of light hovering near the ones doomed to never touch true sunlight.

The place was cluttered yet neat, parchments piling up in one corner, yet another where they laid organized.

It was almost like a different world crafted by steady and loving hands.

Old maps were tacked to one of the walls, scribbled writing and red circles pointing out certain areas of the land beyond the one you knew.

Witches apparently had their own realm, or at least, “a pocket of Earth hidden away from humans by magic”, as Izuku had thoughtfully explained one night as a thunderstorm raged on outside.

Old books smelling of age are scattered about, the large bookshelf barely able to contain them all.

Candles lit by a green flame surround a large wooden table, herbs such as chamomile, ginger, ginseng, valerian, lavender, and saffron are neatly placed by a bowl, wrapped in bundles. Clearly, he was going to try and make some more anti-depressant mixture for the prince again.

He was more of a naturalist when it came to the sick, unless worse came to worse.

He was essentially a glorified doctor who was far more knowledgeable on plants rather than bone structure and types of sickness.

He was a sweetheart who helped all he could.

Hell, he was even taken to some battles as a last defense.

Despite looking so innocent, with his baby fat still hugging his cheeks and freckles splattered all about, the definition of youth, he was quite powerful.

Scarily so.

You had heard hushed whispers from fellow servants about how he had taken down armies alone multiple times before, coming back with nothing but burns and a broken bone or two.

He was terrifying to those who didnt take a mere second to glance at him.

But those who did were greeted with nothing but a warm smile and the fleeting wave of a busy man.

It was a mystery how you had managed to capture his undivided attention, enough so that he had made you his, the plain-looking bracelet made from leather string holding an emerald sealed with magic signifying that.

You were untouchable.

Once gutted with fear, you walked the polished grounds of the castle freely.

After all, not even a King would so much as dare to harm witches beloved, lest he wanted to be burned alive by immortal flames and sent to the ninth level of hell.

A level solely made by strong users of the past, the ones who carved the road for witchery, having bent time itself to do so.

Truly terrifying how powerful they could be, but yet it was so mystifying.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t spent nights wide awake listening to him ramble about their history, about how they came to be and how they flourished.

They didn’t start off as human-like creatures, they started off as a ball of magical light in a land filled with nothing.

It was said that witches built the Earth from the ground up until greed overtook the lands and the humans overpopulated them.

And yet, they work harmoniously together.

Humans fearful of their power, and witches just naturally seeking to help people and continue their craft in harmony with all those who share the lands they grew from scratch.

 It truly was a peaceful existence they led, you couldn’t help but admire it.

Just like you always have.

Pulling the door shut, it locked behind you as you stepped over some paper with doodles, knowing better than to mess with his disorganized things without him in the room to see it.

Speaking of, you were asked here this evening, something about wanting to try out a new potion he had made.

He was always making new things, an inventor of sorts, but never one to have you as a test subject.

Of course, it piqued your curiosity and had you quickly cleaning up the mess you had made in the kitchen when the day was officially over just to get here as fast as you could.

The large window covered in vines holding a small couch beneath it glistened with the light of a crescent moon, casting the room lit with an array of colors in a cool glow.

Smoke from the candles blurred the light, only to collide with the wooden floor above them.

Humming, you grabbed an orb sitting on a side table,  holding it in the moonbeams so it would absorb its brightness. A candlestick of sorts made from magic. You weren’t going to risk going into complete darkness again.

He was obviously not in his work area, so he was probably upstairs.

And so, as quietly as you could, you crept up the old stairs, holding your breath and biting your lip whenever you came to a creaky step. You wanted to scare him, or at the very least surprise him

He was so easy to scare, and he always made the cutest of noises when you did it.

It was hard not to try everytime you were given the chance.

Once you made it to the top, fingers clasped tightly around the carved wooden railing, you looked around the darkened hallway, searching for the room he’s most likely to be in.

None of them had any lights on, which was eerily odd.

He never was much a fan of complete darkness.

It only raised questions as to if he wasn’t here yet, or if he was leaving you high and dry.

No, he would never do such a thing. Perhaps you’re early?

Chewing on your thumbnail, you stood dead at the top of the stairs, waiting for a sign that he was here.

“BOO!” 

“ARGGHH!” you shrieked, jumping away from the noise only to have your back slammed against the wall.

Horrified, you snapped your head to the direction of the noise, only to find a giddy Izuku covering his mouth with a leather-gloved hand, holding away his giggles.

Huffing, you placed a hand on your heart, ignoring the laughs that seeped out of him.

“Geeze, you scared me!” You chided, glaring up into his playful green eyes.

“Oh, like you weren’t trying to do the same to me just now.”

Laughing still, he bent down in front of you, offering you a hand to help you up.

Ever the gentleman.

Placing your palm into his own, he easily pulled you up to your feet, holding you against his muscular chest in a welcoming hug, to which you eagerly returned, arms wrapping around his slender waist.

Though you didn’t know the common body type of a witch, you had to admit, he was certainly buff. Not that you minded.

He could easily throw you over his broad shoulder, and you loved it.

Completely defenseless and vulnerable.

Oh, how sweet it was to trust fully in someone.

His foreign clothes were soaked in his familiar thick scent, the smell of the forest after it had just rained, dewdrops in the early morning sun, a hint of pine, and his own natural musk that always had your head spinning. He tends to travel the forests in the kingdom often, collecting natural herbs and stones he found interesting.

He had jars and jars of rocks and stones, sometimes cracking them open to reveal crystals tucked away inside. He’d always make little trinkets out of them, giving them to people he deemed as friends as a sign of gratitude. You only had one, made from the rarest crystal he had ever found, taaffeite. 

“So, why did you need me?” You mumbled against his chest, cheek rubbing against his familiar warmth.

“Firstly, I always need you.” The sap.

“Mhmm..” you hummed out, letting him pull away and grab your hand, taking the glowing orb and tossing it up and down as he led you down the corridor.

“Secondly,” he trailed off, leaving the orb to float in the air as he unlocked his bedroom door, pulling you inside.

“It’s a bit of a personal thing I can only trust you with testing.”

Smiling to yourself, you sat down on the edge of his large bed, running your fingers over the soft wool that made up his thick comforter.

Never one to use dead animal pelts.

“Is that so?” Your eyes naturally follow his being as he walks around the room, shuffling through different materials before snapping his fingers to light the stone fireplace off on the other side of the room, providing more light, as well as warmth, so he could see where he was going and not trip on the books scattered across the floor.

He didn’t like the windows in his bedroom open at night.

“Y-yes..” he stuttered, fumbling around with a few glass jars on his desk, muttering to himself as he examines the label on each one. Seemingly finding what he was looking for, he turned back to you, proudly showing that he had found it before making his way back to the bed.

“What is that for?” Curious, your fingers brushed against the cool glass containing the shimmering magenta liquid as he sat beside you on the bed, mattress dipping enough from his weight that your sides knocked together.

“A few weeks ago, Shōto had asked a familiar question, if I possessed the ability to make every potion out there. Of course I- I can’t exactly, but I’ve enough skill to make some rather.. exotic potions. He questioned if I ever tried something different than just potions to heal the sick or offer beauty, and I haven’t. I don’t know why, but realizing that upset me. As if my skill set was limited to just some average joe healer,”

“Izuku..”

“So for a while now, I’ve been branching out. Trying different types of potions and having him as the tester.”

“Is that why he’s been acting different these days?”

“Precisely. I’m just lucky I haven’t gotten in trouble for turning him into a frog yet..” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his head as you took the glass from him to ogle it.

“So what is this then?”

“Um..” Embarrassment was creeping up his neck and resting on his cheeks as he averted his shy eyes, “I have a hunch of what it might do. But.. secret?”

You pout at him, “Shouldn’t I know what this is?”

“You’ll know soon! I promise it won’t harm you, darling.” Leaning down, he pecks a kiss on your cheek, large arm wrapping around your waist to pull you into a side hug.

Taking the glass from your hands, he pulled the cork out, glittery, pink mist floating out like smoke from a blown-out candle.

“So, what do you say? Will you try it?” It was almost as if he was giving you no option other than yes with those big puppy eyes of his staring into your soul.

Licking your lips, an action his eyes followed, you gulped the nervousness away.

What had you to fear? This was Izuku after all. Had he ever done you harm? Absolutely not.

You had no reason not to trust the man who held your heart.

“Alright.”

Joy lit up his face, smiling so widely his eyes crinkled.

Huffing out a laugh, you took the bottle from him again, curiously sniffing its fragrance.

“Chocolate and.. maca?” The scent was certainly familiarly tasty, having worked with the foods before, being a baker. Judging how the liquid didn’t resemble them at all, it was off-putting. How had he managed to trap such a delicate smell inside?

“Mhm! That’s right! Apparently, when made, the potion takes on a heavenly smell. Most are usually bitter.”

“Ahh..” Trailing off you eyed it up one last time before finally bringing it to your lips, a shiver running down your spine at just how cold the glass still was, despite being in a warm room.

Tilting the glass up, the liquid glimmering in the light of the fire traveled down the shoot, pouring into your awaiting mouth, feeling as if you were swallowing a runny syrup.

It had the slightest hint of sugar and cinnamon to its flavor, but nothing else. How odd.

Gulping it all down just to get it over with, your eyes that unknowingly closed fluttered open as he pulled the glass away.

Feeling perfectly fine, you stared up at him with confusion, about to speak before his lips cut you off, tongue poking out to lick the renaming liquid from the corner of your mouth.

The clink of the bottle being set down echoed around the room before his gloved palm delicately cupped your cheek, tilting your head as to deepen the kiss.

His tongue eagerly explored the wet cavern of your mouth, as if he was drinking the little essence from his own creation left over.

Pulling away with a wet pop, his forehead rested against yours, mesmerizing green eyes staring softly into your own, waiting.

Waiting for what was what you didn’t know, perhaps for the potion to take effect.

You were eager to find out just what it was, but you had a semblance of a guess considering the position you found yourself in.

“How do you feel?” he whispered breathlessly against your parted lips.

Just as you were about to reply, your words got caught in your throat as your body began to heat up in a familiar way.

“I..” You pant, grip on his cotton shirt tightening as your gut suddenly twisted with a burning need for HIM.

Your (E/C) eyes glaze over with lust in front of his own, pupils dilating as your body began to shake, whimpers escaping your throat.

Thighs rubbing together to offer friction you didn’t know you desperately craved until now, you looked at him helplessly, so close to falling apart if it weren’t for his large hand on the small of your back holding you close to his steady figure.

“I-I feel hot.. Izuku..”

You whined, chewing at your lip as you wiggled beneath his excited stare.

“Good.”

Suddenly, his lips connected with yours once more, drawing a stuttered moan from your throat at the contact you unknowingly began to crave more and more as your lips connected again and again.

You clung to him like a koala, kissing him fervently like you would never be able to again, desperate to have his undivided attention.

Hands sliding to your hips, he pulled you onto his lap, legs hugging his own as hot breaths mingled together with the wet sound of kisses.

“Ah..!” You squeaked against him, your hips involuntarily grinding down onto his crotch, greedily searching for the pleasure your body desperately craved.

“M-mmm.. Izu.. I-” Your apology was cut off with a nip to your neck, “Don’t apologize,” he scolded. Grip still on your hips, he pulled you down rougher against his hardening dick, his hips thrusting up to meet your own, eliciting a sharp cry from your being as your head threw back at the sudden pressure where you craved it most.

He was quick to chase your lips, dragging you back into your heated makeout, swallowing every moan you let out as you both humped each other like horny dogs, the eagerness from him only adding to the pool of moisture leaking out of your body.

The button on his trousers was rubbing deliciously against your clothed clit, making your hips stutter every so often as you fought to maintain that hard surface.

Saliva began to drip down the side of your mouth from the intense kissing, but you hadn’t a care in the world.

No, your mind was too fogged to even think about it.

All you craved was him.

Him.

Him.

You yearned for him like he’d been gone a decade, and your body acted on it in a way you were typically shy about.

Biting your lip, he pulled away from the kiss, dragging a whine of protest from you before he hushes you by licking the outer shell of your ear, breath fanning across it only adding to the tingles of excitement shooting down your arched spine. “Hush,” he commanded, and as if you couldn’t disobey him, your words of protest died on your tongue, leaving only a parted mouth and heavy breaths.

Licking down the column of your neck, nose brushing against you, he searched for that familiar sweet spot on you, teeth grazing your flesh.

Still grinding on his hard cock covered by pants, a wet spot no doubt leaking past the underwear you wore beneath your hiked up skirt and onto him, you gasp once he found the place he was looking for.

Smirking, he nibble gently, holding you still as you began to wiggle once more.

Your head tilted to the side to give him more room as he sucked on your skin, teeth repeatedly nibbling at your sensitive flesh. Biting down harshly, you cried out with pain and pleasure, hips grinding down so hard onto him he groaned, the vibration making your heart jump in your throat.

“A-ahh… hnng.!” Moans poured salaciously past your thoroughly kissed lips, holding onto him for dear life as he controlled your being with every fiber of his own.

A button on your blouse popped open, and your foggy gaze traveled down just to see his fingers expertly undoing each one without looking, letting your bare breasts bounce out above your corset.

Not giving you a second to cover yourself out of embarrassment, his large hand cupped one of your tits, massaging it gently just to feel the soft flesh as your chin rested against his grounding shoulder, small moans now directly in his awaiting ear.

“You’re such a good girl, (Y/N).” He praised, eyes filled with nothing but love as he got to watch your unusually heated body search for the pleasure it craved.

You were usually so shy in bed, but with this potion pumping through your veins, he hoped it’d help give you the confidence boost you needed.

Though, that wasn’t the only thing it did.

He was filled with anticipation, if his throbbing member was anything to go by.

Thumb circling around your cute, perky nipple, he took the bud between his thumb and forefinger, pulling gently and rolling it between them, dragging high pitched whines from you.

You couldn’t help but pull away from him again, body constantly shifting from the delicious pleasure you were being given.

Fully pulling your blouse off, he left your chest completely bare, giving him the chance to dip his head down and latch onto the opposite nipple, lathering it in attention with his warm muscle, sucking softly and continuously rolling your other nipple with his hand.

It left you craving more, fingers threading through his messy green curls, pulling as to not lose yourself, only eliciting yet another deep groan that vibrated on your skin.

Feeling yourself slowly start to come undone, you desperately ground against him, pants becoming high pitched and moans being louder.

He could tell you were getting close, and from grinding alone no less, it made him feel so damn good to know he could get you to come purely from grinding.

But he didn’t want you to cum like this.

Certainly not.

And so, he fell back on his back dragging you with him as his lips found yours again.

Gripping at the hem of your skirt, he yanked it down, pulling it off your legs. Using a little handy magic, he effortlessly pulled your own shoes off, already working your underwear down your quivering thighs, eyes zeroed in on the drip of wetness attaching your core to them for a split second before they were across the other side of the room.

Corsets were always his worst nightmare.

He couldnt think too clearly to untie the knot in the back as your now bare crotch rubbed against his own, so without thinking, he ripped it off, the bare display of strength having you keening against him.

“Princess,” he whispered against your lips, dragging your hips upwards, “please, sit on my face.”

How vulgar of him to say, with a smile no less, but nonetheless it scent a throb of want to your stomach, and you found yourself, once again, unable to disobey him.

Your body burned red from embarrassment as you crawled up his own still fully clothed one, but you weren’t given the chance to dwell on it before he moved your hips directly over his face, tongue poking out to lap at your dripping folds.

“Gaah..!” You cried, fingers digging into the blanket beneath him as your hips once again helplessly sought the pleasure you craved, unafraid to press down against him.

Your juices tasted so sweet, he eagerly lapped at you like a dog deprived of water.

He had to hold you still against his face, drinking in the image of your breasts jiggling like jelly with every shuttered breath you took, head flung back and eyes shut tight as you focused purely on the way the flat of his tongue licked you up like a sugary treat.

He couldn’t help but occasionally press a kiss against your sobbing flesh, teasingly avoiding your clit begging for attention each time you moved against his mouth.

Your cries of pleasure filled the room, only sending his mind into a state of hunger, wanting to drag every noise out of you he could, along with the loud licking that caused your essence to drip down his chin.

His aching cock was straining against the flimsy button of his pants, desperate to be released and buried deep inside your soul-sucking pussy again.

Tongue dipping inside you and lips pressing against your sensitive, pink labia, he ate you out with earnest, squeezing your hips tightly with his fingers as he fought to control himself from shoving you to the blankets and fucking you raw without finishing his dessert first.

A choked sob tore from your throat with his lips finally encased your puffy clit, the tip of his tongue tracing around the bundle of nerves before flattening his tongue against it.

Your hips bucked involuntarily against his face, pressing him harder against you just so you could cry out his name like a sinful prayer.

His heart was full of love for you as he observed your reaction did everything blissful he did.

You were in heaven, walking on clouds as wet squelches from your own body surrounded your ears.

“Z-Zuku..!” You cried as he sucked on your clit like candy, enjoying the rough treatment. The tip of his tongue traced his name possessively over your button, marking you as his forevermore, silently vowing to never let another man do the same.

“I-I’m close..!” You cried, tears of pleasure falling down your flushed cheeks, dripping onto the thighs squeezing his head like warm earmuffs.

He hummed against you, dragging his tongue across the expanse of your womanhood before enclosing around your clit again, lathering it in the attention you needed to be pulled over the edge.

Your thighs clenched around his head, his hair tickling you, body stilling as you screamed out in pleasure, back arching and giving him a lovely view of your demise.

You came on his tongue, the stimulation he gave you throughout your orgasm sending you higher and higher in that clouded head of yours.

When you finally came down and slumped forward, catching your breath, he licked up the mess you made, pulling away from your lower lips and running a tongue over his own to greedily savor your delectable taste.

Placing you off to the side, giving you a second to calm down,, he hurriedly shuffled out of his clothing, throwing his cloak, gloves, and various other things on his person to the floor, kicking his boots off that landed with a heavy thump, leaving his underwear on as he crawled over on top of you.

Dazed, you stared deliriously up at him, a bashful smile on your lips, watching as he wipes your juices away with the back of his wrist before licking it clean. He was so sinful and messy.

The warm fire crackling in the corner hugged at his soft skin, making his eyes blown wide with lost twinkle like starlight. He looked so in love as he stared at you as if you were the only person in the world.

Breathing heavily, you reached out for him, and he was happy to lean in so you could wrap your arms around his neck, toying with the shorter curls at his nape as he kissed you again, your taste still on his tongue as your tongues intertwined. You weakly fought against his intrusion, teasing, only for him to grab a handful of your ass, making you gasp and effectively losing the battle.

He flooded your being with everything he had, his scent, his love, his passion, adoration, everything.

His knowledge on your own sexual human anatomy astounded you, but always left you moaning against him, much to his utter pleasure.

His thumb circled your twitching clit, bringing your attention back to his actions and the way you clenched helplessly around thin air, waiting for him.

You hungrily eyed the bulge in his underwear, licking your lips at the spot of wetness where his dripping head was.

You wanted to feel him inside you again, to clench around the very thing that drove you insane other than his skillful touch.

“P-please..” You begged, detaching yourself from him, pleading for mercy under his sharp gaze as he soaked up your wrecked self.

He loved hearing you beg.

“Please what?” he drawled out, running his lips down the side of your face and neck, pressing kisses against your collarbone. Moving his thumb previously giving you what you desire to your thighs, he held them in his grasp just to feel your smooth, warm skin against his rough, scarred palms.

You whined, shimmying your hips to draw his attention to them. He ignored your advances, peering up at your face with a glare and crooked smile that shot sparks down your body, “Tell me.” 

As if on cue, and unable to disobey his words that squeezed your heart, you sputtered a response, barely able to maintain eye contact, “P-please touch me..! M-more.. I, I need more, please! I want..” your breath was stolen from your lungs as he began to grind his clothed crotch against your wet core, “I want you! I w-want you to fuck me, please..! I- I can’t take it anymore.. Please, Izuku..!” More tears fell from your eyes, falling onto the mattress below you, “Please fuck me..!”

Happy with your response,  but still not quite ready to give in, he pulled away, circling your clenching hole with his middle finger, watching as your head flew back with tears as you meekly thrust upwards.

As much as he wanted to pull himself out right now and fuck you until his bed broke from the sheer force, he couldn’t risk hurting you.

Even if the potion was designed to make you ready for everything sexual, willing to comply with his every demand, you still were his princess, his angel, and he was going to treat you like one.

He didn't want you to wake with the soreness of not being properly prepared, even if he could heal you a minute after. That minute of you crying from the pain that HE selfishly caused would always be stabbed into his heart, and he certainly didn't want that, nor you to experience it.

“Sorry, love..” he apologized, finally plunging his thick finger inside you after thoroughly coating it with your slick, moaning at how tight you were for him. 

“Fuck..” he whispered under his breath, keeping your thighs splayed wide open as he sat back on his haunches to watch you react to him.

Your back was arched, begging for more as you gripped the sheets below you, cheek pressed against the mattress as low moans trickled out your sinful mouth like water.

Face hot, a boyish smile fell on his face as he added another finger, observing how you hotly throw your head back as he pressed against the spongy spot inside your walls.

“Aaahh..! T-there! R-right there..!”

“I know, darling, shh, shhh.” He cooed at you, curling his fingers against your G-spot with each thrust in and out of your sopping pussy. His fingers made wet clicks inside of you as they rubbed against your walls, dragging more and more moans out of you as you ground down on his large digits.

His eyes couldn’t leave the view of you sucking him back in every time he pulled his fingers out, it left him imagining more and more scenarios in his head.

God, how he wanted to destroy you.

Have you screaming his name so loudly you broke the sound barrier he had set up ages ago, letting all of the castle and its snobby guards know he was fucking the love of his life and doing it damn well.

He bet they would be jealous.

Those thoughts of it made his adrenaline spike, adding a third finger to the squelching party mixing your insides up, leaving you at their utter disposal.

Arousal poured from you like a steady stream, gushing down and leaving a wet puddle under your ass.

You were so wet for him it was hard to bear, but you felt so, so good.

Your mind was so muddled with lust, you couldn’t think straight, all that entered your mind was ‘more, more, more.’ 

You were being greedy, but you couldn’t help it.

Deciding you were prepped enough, his fingers pulled fully out of you, putting on a small display of licking them clean as you watched with wide, doe eyes, stuttering out about how dirty that was.

“More dirty than you using my face as a seat, my lady?” He teased, tucking his face into the crook of your neck.

“T-thats..”

He chuckles at your flustered response.

Pulling his underwear down, his cock slaps against his toned stomach, fully erect and dripping with precum.

Throwing them off to the side, he noticed the way your eyes greedily looked at his body, confidence burning his veins as he sees the impatience in your eyes as you stare at his member.

He was tempted to say, ‘like what you see?’ but he himself was far too eager and impatient to wait any longer.

Grabbing himself, he ran his thickness between your lips, gathering your arousal on him before leading himself to your entrance.

“Ready?” He asked whilst kissing the skin below your ear.

You nodded, hips wiggling in anticipation.

“A-ahh! Fuck!” You cried out as he fully sheathed himself inside you with one thrust, bottoming out immediately.

He bit at your skin, concealing the deep moan that rumbled in his chest as you strangled his weeping dick at last.

You were so intoxicating, you sweet aroma wafting off you with every breath.

Grinding himself inside of you, he waited patiently for you to adjust, leaving hickeys all over your skin with each passing second.

Gulping down air, you thrust upwards, dragging him out of his blissed-out state just to moan heavenly deeply in your ear.

“Naughty girl..” he seethed, making you giggle, only to be shut up as he pulled out and slammed his hips back into your own, drawing out a garbled moan.

Skin slapped wetly against skin with each rough thrust he relentlessly delivered, drinking up your cries for more.

Leaning back to watch you with hungry, dark green eyes, pupils blown wide with lust. He pinned your arms to the bed above your head, a punishment for catching him off guard.

His cock was truly a godsend, thick and long, curved upwards just to slam repeatedly into your soft g-spot over and over.

You could only hold on for dear life as he fucked you good and hard just like you wanted, just like you craved.

“O-Ohh!!! Izu!! Izuku-! Ahh.! F-fuck..!” You moaned with each thrust inside your wet self, body being pushed back from the sheer intensity of which he fucked you with.

He knew your body so well by now, he knew each and every way to make you fall apart by his own doing.

He knew how to break you in the most sinful way possible, and he loved it.

Your face was lewdly contorted with pleasure, eyes looking back, eyebrows pinched together, (H/C) baby hairs plastered to your sweaty forehead, and mouth gaping wide open so he could hear every slur of words and every noise you emitted.

He wanted to hear everything you had to say, every reaction to the way he fucked you.

He could feel you growing tighter around his throbbing cock, juices coating his thighs with each heavy thrust inside of you.

He loved how much he could turn you on, even if right now it was all thanks to the potion that added pink hearts to your innocent (E/C) eyes.

The same potion that had you openly moaning unashamedly, whereas you previously would have held them in by biting your lip and hands.

He was so happy to hear how good he made you feel.

At long last.

“(Y/N)..” he panted heavily, peering deeply into your glossy eyes, movements becoming more and more sloppy as he lost himself to the pleasure, a burning pressure building up in his gut with each shallow and deep thrust.

Falling down on top of you, he held you close to him, letting your arms go so you could dig your nails into the flesh of his toned, freckled back flexing with each movement.

The bed banged loudly against the wall, he momentarily worried it would leave a dent- but he couldn’t think about that now. Not when you were crying out his name so sweetly.

“I’m here, I’m here..” he soothed as you clung to him.

Your hips began to move in circles, drugging him with intense ecstasy as he thrusts into you. You kept him wanting more and more. He was addicted to you. 

Pushing your legs back against the mattress, he reached so deep inside you, you swore you could feel his head kissing at your womb. 

You were so helpless to the waves of infinite pleasure he washed you over with that all you could do was take it.

“You’re doing so.. hah… so good, baby..” he praised breathlessly.

“Gnnn! Gaahhah..! Izuku!!”

“Let me hear it.. let me hear you, princess.” He smiled against your skin as you let out an onslaught of sultry moans, fueling his inner fire.

“I’m..! I- gwaahhh..! I’m so c-close..!”

“Me too, me too..” He fervently pressed kisses to your cheek, letting his other hand travel down to coat his thumb in your spare wetness, just to rub circles on your puffy clit, applying the right amount of pressure that always drove you insane.

Drool dribbled down the side of your mouth as your tongue flopped out, breasts bouncing with each and every thrust, constantly captivating him as he could feel their softness against his pecs.

Holding you flushed against him, he let magic crackle to life on his hand, green sparks lighting up the area around the two of you just barely. His hand began to vibrate, magic he learned was good for massaging muscles, but of course, it had.. other uses..

The vibration against your clit, added to the pounding of his cock expertly slamming against your G-spot, sent your head flying back, white vision going black as your pussy strangled his cock like a python.

“Haaahh.! Aah!” You cried his name out so loudly it burned your throat, leaving you to cum harshly on his dick, the strange sensation of liquid squirting from your body making your mind go numb as all you were left with was burning hot stars in your eyes.

The display alone was enough to drag him over the edge as well, slamming his cock into you once more before warm ropes of cum spurted into you, completely coating your walls and spewing out from the sheer amount as he let out a silent moan.

His thighs twitched and his stomach felt empty when he finally came down from his high, the same time as you.

Love filled his gaze as you both peered into each other’s eyes, enraptured by the souls sealed within.

Heavy breaths blew past your lips, desperate to calm down your racing heart.

“How was it..?” He questioned lightly, moving hair out of your face so he could get a better look.

“How was… what..?” Your mind was still clouded. You hadn’t any idea how he could still think straight.

Giggling, he rubbed his nose lovingly against your own. 

“The potion. Could you feel its effects..?”

Staring at him in bewilderment, it took a second to register his words. 

The potion.. what had it done again..?

Oh..

You slapped a hand over your mouth, pulling away from him. “Oh gosh..!” 

You were so embarrassed! 

Gah, to be so loud!! You wanted to hide in a hole..!

“Don't be shy, my love,” He pleaded sweetly, placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead, “it’s just me.”

“That's the point!! I-it was embarrassing to- to be so.. lewd in f-front of you…”

“You say that, and yet I’m still deep inside you,”

“Izuku..!” You groaned, shoving his smiling face away with both hands, only for him to grab your hands and place gentle kisses on them.

“I.. I liked hearing you..” he flushed, bashfully looking away.

Though he could be quite the dominant man in bed, it was always endearing how he was still the shy witch you fell in love with at the end of the day.

“W-well I..” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, “Well I’ll be louder for now o-on then..!” Your declaration surprised him, shock resting on his features before he broke out in another smile, flopping on top of your sweaty body just to hug you to his own equally as sweaty body.

“I love you, (Y/N)..” he sighed blissfully, burying his nose in your hair as he cuddled you, the crackling of the blazing fire just now reaching his ears.

“I love you too, Izuku.”

Though he could be a handful at times, with his insistent drive to be better and push himself beyond his current limits, as well as running headfirst into danger and getting littered with scars, you still loved him.

You always would.

He was your kind witch, and you, his darling beloved.

And nothing would ever get between a witch and the one he called his.

.

..

…

….

“So, are you going to pull out? I feel a little messy.”

“In a minute..”

“Izu!”

#izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #izuku x reader #izumonth collab #witch!izuku #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x you #izuku x you #deku x you #izuku midoriya #deku #izuku #bnha #mha #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #n/sfw

[sinfulslanders]

Birthday

Pairing: Michael Myers x Baker!Reader

Request: @nuttybeardetective “Hai!! Would it be alright to request Michael Myers x chubby fem reader who is a Baker, and they find out about Michael's birthday and make him lots of cakes and pies ? Pure fluff if you please ♡♡”

Warning(s): Kind of out of character Michael.

Word Count: 1.7K

Note: I’m a little late. Ahaha. No but seriously, I’ve been going through some stuff. This year isn’t really my year. I just finished my state test yesterday and I just got into the writing mood. I hope this is to your expectations but if it’s not, just let me know.

Before you knew of Michael, he knew everything about you. Of course, he watched you long before he decided to reveal himself to you. He knew you ran the local baker in town and you were known to have some of the best birthday cakes in town, along with other famous desserts he heard people talking about. He would watch you bake cupcakes through the cracked backdoor of your shop, the smell of sweetness always made his mouth water and his stomach grumble. Maybe he wouldn’t kill you until he got to taste of your famous cake or something.

He watched you more and saw the things that went on behind closed doors. Your employees weren’t of much help to you, he could tell they were only there for the paycheck, he heard the things they said about you when they thought you weren’t around or listening, words that surprisingly made him irritated. He knew you heard them but you weren’t faded by them, you just continued mixing the ingredients while humming a song he did not know of.

He watched and watched, moving from just watching you at your job to watching you in your house. Watching your sleep through your bedroom window, watching you day and night. Until he finally showed himself to you. He just sat on the couch, waiting for you to come back home after working overtime at the shop, you weren’t faded by him just sitting there on your couch. “You finally decided to show yourself. If you’re going to kill me, do it while I’m sleeping.” Then you turned off the light and went upstairs, leaving him in the darkness.

The next morning you had awoken to you still being alive, then you blamed yourself for being so stupid to just fall asleep while there was someone in the living room. You had grabbed the ball you kept next to your bed and walked downstairs ready to hit anything that moved. Stepping off the last step, you saw the tall intruder sitting in the exact same spot as last night but he had the box of cupcakes you baked, opened and emptied out. You sighed but quickly focused on the intruder as he started to get up, you quickly hit him across the head with the bat and waited as he stopped and turned his head towards you.

You couldn’t see his eyes through the mask he was wearing but you could feel him staring at you. You were about to hit him again but he snatched the bat away from you and tossed to the side. He stood up completely which caused you to step back and raise your fists. “I’m not going down without a fight.” You were really hoping your death would be quick since you did not know how to fight and he was twice your size. The masked intruder stepped towards you and stopped right in front of you, he placed his hand over yours and pushed your fists down. ‘Well, this is the end.’

You closed your eyes but felt a bit of wind go past you along with the sound of footsteps. You opened your eyes and saw that he was no longer in front of you, you heard something tapping against something else and turned around to see where it was coming from. You saw the large man had gone to the kitchen and had his arm extended. He looked at you as if he was telling you to come to him and you cautiously walked to the kitchen then stood by him. He was pointing at the calendar you had hung up in the kitchen. You looked even closer and saw he was pointing to a specific date, October 19th.

You stared up at him and tilted your head in confusion. He pointed at it again then slowly pointed at himself by back at the date. “Is tomorrow your birthday?” You asked. He didn’t verbally give you an answer but he stared down at you. “Okay, so, what about it?” He turned and pointed to the stove. You were starting to put everything together. “You want me to make you something. Okay, what do you want?” He walked over to the counter and you followed behind him. He pointed to the dessert cook book your grandmother had given you.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you stood beside him and opened the book. “I don’t know if you can talk so just point out everything you want.” You flipped pages and every time he would point that it. At the end, he had pointed to all thirty pages. “You want all of these?! Can you even eat them all?” You felt him poke you in your side with his finger. You looked at him then saw him point at himself again. He wanted you to eat them with him.

You sighed and nodded, “Alright, I’ll make them. It's going to take me some time to finish.” You saw him walk away. You turned your head to watch him and saw that he was going back into the living room. He sat down on the couch and just stared at the television. “The remote is on the smaller table, where you put the box of cupcakes.” You turned around and began getting all the ingredients you needed and soon enough you heard the tv turn on.

You spent hours making the desserts the masked intruder wanted. You even had to go to the grocery store a couple of times since you kept running out of stuff, and during your last trip you overheard from the town’s elderly about a boy named Michael Myers who killed his sister on Halloween night. You didn’t pay too much attention but it did peak your interest since it was the first time you had heard of a crime such as that in such a peaceful town. After you got everything you needed, you went back home and continued making the desserts.

You finally finished around 11 pm and you were exhausted. You called the stranger into the kitchen and you could hear the floors creaking underneath his feet. “I’m done with everything you wanted.” You handed him an icing decorator and pointed at the newly finished cake. He looked down at both the cake and the icing then looked at you. You smiled, “Write your name.” He looked down at the cake and gripped the icing bag in an awkward way before you started seeing his hand moving.

You couldn’t exactly see what he was writing since he was a large guy but after some time he sat the icing down, you looked at the cake and read what he wrote: “Michael.” You furrowed your eyebrows. You thought back to when you were in the store and heard those elderly ladies talking about a Myers boy. It would be a plot twist if he was the Myers boy but did you want to risk asking him that. No, absolutely not. It might be a trigger for him and you did not want to die yet.

“Okay, Michael, help me bring the rest of the desserts into the dining room.” You grabbed the cupcakes and brought them to the dining room, he turned around and just saw Michael staring at the cake. You smacked your lips before you entered the kitchen. As you grabbed the plate, Michael suddenly grabbed your wrist hard. “Relax. I’m just bringing it to the dining room.” He loosen his grip a bit but still didn’t let go.

“Michael, I promise I’m not trying to do anything with the cake.” What was wrong with him? He didn’t even flinch when you hit him with the bat but he’s scared you’ll do something with his birthday cake? After some more hesitation, he released your wrist and you thanked him. You went to the dining room and placed the cake in front of a chair. You turned around and saw Michael right behind you which caused you to jump.

“Michael! You scared me!” You softly patted your chest to try to calm your breathing. He didn’t react in any way and continues to stand there. You cleared your throat and pointed to the chair with the cake in front of it. “You can go sit down if you want to.” You two just stood in silence. You wanted to move but you felt it would be wrong for you to make the first move. You noticed the Micael began to lift his arms up and you thought that your end had finally come. You closed your eyes but only felt him wrapping his arms around you then suddenly lifting you up.

“Put me down! Oh my goodness.” You didn’t know what to do. The whole situation was making you nervous. What was he trying to accomplish? He must have lifted you off the ground since your face and his were right next to each other. ‘Oh wow, he’s pretty strong.’ You could now hear his even breathing through his mask, at least you’ve confirmed he’s an actual person.

“Thank you.” A deep and raspy voice came through the mask causing you to freeze. He placed you back onto the ground but you were still frozen. He could talk? Why didn’t he talk earlier? You were brought out of your thoughts when you heard a chair screeching against the floor. You turned away and saw him sitting down and staring at you, as if he was waiting for you to sit down with him.

You jumped slightly when your watch went off, you looked at the time and saw it was midnight. It was officially his birthday. “Wait! Don’t eat yet.” You went into the kitchen and searched through the drawers for a lighter and candle. After searching two drawers, you found them and went back into the dining room. You quickly placed the candle into the cake and lit it. You began singing the birthday song to him but he just stared at the cake. At the end, you asked him to blow out the candle. He looked at you, you waited but he continued.

“Okay, I’ll close my eyes if you want.” You placed your hands over your eyes as you said you would. There was a few minutes of silence and you were starting to get tired of waiting, you were about to remove your hands but you heard a soft blow. You smiled and waited before removing your hands. Your eyes quickly adjusted to the light and you saw that he was staring at you, the candle wasn’t lit anymore.

You clapped and smiled at him, “Happy Birthday, Michael!”

#michael myers x reader #slasher x reader #fluff michael #kinda ooc michael

[pterodactylterrace]

Guys Like You Chapter 16

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 16

Chapter Summary: Meet the family

Rating: 18+

Warnings: None for this chapter

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6} {Chapter 7} {Chapter 8} {Chapter 9} {Chapter 10} {Chapter 11} {Chapter 12} {Chapter 13} {Chapter 14} {Chapter 15}

"How well does she do on flights?" Henry asked quietly, nodding for Faye to slide in first to take the window seat.

"She gets sick on longer flights." Faye explained as he sat down in the aisle seat, resting the snoozing child in his lap, her chubby cheek pressed against his chest as a small bit of drool tumbled from her lower lip.

"It's a little under an hour, do you think she'll be ok?"

"She didn't get sick until after the third hour when we came to England."

"Hopefully she'll just sleep the whole time." Henry sighed, smiling fondly at the child snoozing on him. To say he was excited to introduce his girls to his family was an understatement. He had been practically vibrating with giddiness for the last two days. That in turn wound up Kal and Briar, which meant no one wanted to go to bed. Faye had counted herself lucky to get the child tucked into bed and finally asleep before 11pm the night before. Certainly not enough time for any sort of decent rest before their 6am flight. She could also tell Henry hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before, the dark circles under his eyes a dead giveaway, no matter how many times he insisted he was fine.

Maybe they could all catch a nap during the flight. That sounded incredible, though Faye wasn't sure if her nerves would allow her to actually sleep. Henry had assured her over and over that his family would love her, but she had a nagging voice in the back of her mind that kept asking her 'but what if they don't?' Would Henry leave her if his family didn't like her? What if they didn't like Briar? She could be a bit much at times. Maybe they would think she was an awful mother who couldn't control her child. She just had to keep reminding herself that Henry wasn't like that. He wasn't a controlling abuser. He wanted to see her happy. He actually loved her and she was slowly learning how to be loved in return.

Henry reluctantly slid the child from his lap and into her seat before take off, buckling the now grumpy toddler in while Faye gave Briar her stuffed bunny in an attempt to pacify her for the time being. That only resulted in the rather amusing image of an incredibly angry looking toddler hugging a very well loved stuffed bunny, glaring daggers at the seat back in front of her. The second the fasten seatbelt sign went off, Briar was back in Henry's lap, smugly snuggling back into his chest with her bunny tucked under her arm.

"I swear, she likes you more than she likes me." Faye sighed, shaking her head at her daughter.

"I never tell her no." Henry shrugged, giving the child a small squeeze.

"I've noticed." Faye grumbled.

"How do you expect me to say no to that face?" Henry challenged, nodding down to where Briar was already sleeping on him, her cheek squished up against his chest, more drool slowly soaking into his shirt.

"What if she wants to do something dangerous?"

"That's why I have her wonderful, strong, beautiful mother nearby." Henry smiled at her, chuckling at her annoyed look.

"So what are you gonna do with any future children?" Faye shot back, not missing the way Henry's entire demeanor lit up.

"I'll just have to follow your lead." He offered, trying to tame the smile from his face. This was the first time she had mentioned any more children since their scare, and just the thought was enough to make him dizzy with excitement.

"Breastfed that kid for a year and a half, and this is the thanks I get." Faye grumbled to herself, moving over to the middle seat to use Henry's bulky shoulder as a pillow.

"As much as I'd like to say I'll help you every step of the way, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be useless when it comes to that."

"Such a shame, your tits are bigger than mine."

"They are not." Henry scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Mmhmm. Mine only look nice when I roll them up into a bra so you can't see how deflated they are."

"They're the perfect size for my hands."

"And your tits are still bigger."

"Fine, but I still don't think I can breastfeed a baby." Henry relented, his face heating up when he realized the flight attendant had made it to their row with the drink cart. Her look of confused horror was one Faye would remember for years to come.

"I think we're good." Faye half laughed, Henry dropping his head in embarrassment. Sometimes people just walk up at the wrong time in a conversation.

Faye was apprehensive at first when Henry told her his brother would be picking them up from the airport. What if he instantly didn't like her? Would he just leave her there or something? It would make for a very uncomfortable car ride to say the least. Thankfully Niki and his wife turned out to be just as nice and accommodating as Henry kept assuring her they would be. Naturally, Niki stuffed his younger brother into the back seat, allowing his wife to stay up front in spite of her half hearted protest. Faye had the feeling this was an ongoing thing between them.

The sight of a toddler seat in the back, hooked in and ready to go made a strange happiness swell in her chest. Faye was grateful they had taken steps to keep her daughter safe, while Henry was slightly annoyed that he was now crushed even more. With a simple look from Niki's wife, Faye understood that this was just how the brother's were, antagonizing each other whenever possible. Niki wasted no time filling Faye in on a few stories from Henry's childhood, telling her about the time he brought a turtle home and tried to keep it in the bathtub to hide it from his parents. Then he moved on to the time he split his pants at his cousin's wedding when he was fifteen and spent the entire reception trying to talk to the bridesmaids with his underwear showing. The last one he squeezed in before his wife stopped him was when they were all younger and buried him in the snow, having convinced him that's how an igloo was built.

No one hesitated to get out and start unpacking the car once it was parked in front of a rather quaint looking house, Niki tossing Henry's bag at him, Henry 'accidentally' shoulder checking him into the back of the car good natured retaliation. Niki's wife had already gone inside to announce their arrival, giving Faye a chance to talk with her daughter before meeting everyone.

"Now remember sweetie, we need to be on our best behavior for Papa's family today, ok?" She reminded, crouching down and straightening out her daughter's jacket.

"I a good girl." Briar stated firmly, nodding her head in self assurance as she grabbed her mother's hand with her mitten covered fist.

"Yes, you've been a very good girl, even though I can tell you're really tired. I'm very proud of you, sweetheart." Faye praised, giving the child her stuffed bunny before leading her after everyone else.

"And then-" Simon wheezed, pausing to catch his breath through his laughter. "And then Henry comes back inside, covered in mud, sticks in his hair, and he's just like "well, he's not under THAT bush!'." Faye wiped a tear from her eye, holding her aching stomach. She had lost count of the stories that had been retold, everyone seeming to take a turn at ribbing each other. Henry even told the story of Faye accidentally gluing her hand to a makeup brush when she was trying to apply prosthetics. It felt almost too easy settling into his family. He had been completely honest, they were very accepting.

His mother was warm and inviting, pulling her in for a hug and whisking Faye off to the kitchen, putting a glass of wine in her hand before she had even said hello to anyone else. It felt so good to be around a family again. Faye had been close with her parents and her siblings, especially her twin sister, and it was times like this that reminded her of what she had given up to chase her dreams. She had promised to try and be home for Christmas, but life got in the way of her going back the year before. Now it was coming up, and she was wondering if Henry would be alright with going all the way across the ocean just to meet her family. Were they really that serious? She knew they were pretty serious, having moved in together, but she didn't have any prior experience to compare her current relationship to.  Would he want to spend Christmas with his family? They were all really nice and probably always spent the holidays together. Would she be interfering with a tradition by asking him to spend Christmas with her family?

"So how did you two meet?" Marianne interjected, everyone suddenly shifting their attention to the couple.

"Uhh... met at work?" Faye offered up, turning to look up at Henry to see if he had anything else to add. Always the eloquent half of the pair, Henry had plenty to tack on, telling them about how this sassy little makeup artist wouldn't give him the time of day no matter what he did to get her attention. He'd tried talking about her tattoo's: nothing. He'd tried talking about the show: nothing. He'd tried to ask her about her life: nothing.

"It wasn't until Briar's birthday that I got anywhere. I swear, if you weren't such an awful baker, you would have never even looked my way. Poor Briar made sure everyone knew you were no good at it too. Briar!" Henry called, smiling when the little girl came running in the room, a dinosaur in one hand and the other covered in a sock. "Briar, how's mummy's baking?"

"Yucky." Briar informed flatly, the adults roaring in laughter while she rushed off to go play with the other children again.

"She's actually managed to simultaneously burn and completely undercook a tray of brownies once. It was amazing."

"Wasn't that also the time I mixed up the salt and the sugar?"

"It was." Henry confirmed, pressing an adoring kiss to her temple.

"That reminds me of the time you accidentally used garlic powder instead of nutmeg in the apple pie one year." Piers turned toward his wife, laughing at her loving glare.

"Alright, alright. Enough." Simon jumped in. "We all know what needs to be discussed. Who is stronger, Superman or the Incredible Hulk?" The entire family seemed to groan in unison; this must be an age old debate.

"Superman, obviously." Henry scoffed.

"No way, the Hulk is indestructible!" Niki threw back.

"So is Superman." Charlie pointed out.

"A little bit of kryptonite and Superman is useless." Simon intervened.

"What are the odds of having kryptonite on hand, though? If we're going to be using weaknesses, when Banner couldn't shift into the Hulk during Infinity War should definitely be brought up." Faye countered.

"But we're not talking about Banner, we're talking about the Hulk, as in he already shifted." Niki complained.

"Didn't the Black Widow have some lullaby thing that turned him back?" Charlie mused.

"Come on, Faye. We all know you're just siding with Superman because you're sleeping with him." Simon teased, Faye rolling her eyes in response. She had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

By the time they returned home just two days later, Faye was utterly exhausted but filled with joy. His family was so warm and inviting. They actually liked her. They didn't look down on her. They didn't question why Henry was with someone like her. They just accepted her and her daughter as one of their own. Two more to add to the Cavill Clan.

Now that they were back at home, it felt almost empty compared to the jam packed house they had just been in. Kal was all too happy to meet everyone at the door, his food bowl still full from the last visit from the dog sitter while their mail was stacked neatly on the kitchen table waiting for them.

Henry left the bags by the bottom of the stairs to take up later, sorting the letters into two separate piles. A large envelope addressed for Faye caught his eye, curiosity prompting him to bring it straight to her.

"What's that?" Faye asked, tossing the clothing from the bags into a laundry basket.

"I don't know. Looks important. Maybe it's informing you that you just became Queen a small unknown country."

"I've always wanted my own country." Faye chuckled, ripping the envelope open and pulling out the papers inside, her face falling more and more with each passing second. Her blood ran cold as teardrops stained the paper.

"What? What's wrong? Faye, you're starting to worry me. What does it say? Is something wrong?"

"My ex... my ex is trying to sue me for custody of Briar."

@weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @lharrietg @amberangel112 @mansaaay  @nostalgicb-txh

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #guys like you #guys like you fic

[whocalledhimannux]

@peregrer the What. 👀👀👀 *insert John Mulaney gif of "say more right now"*

ok so when I say "the extent to which I've fleshed out the QT GBBO AU in my head is getting to be embarrassing," I truly and deeply mean it, please enjoy 1,900 words of utter ridiculousness.

first, our competitors:

Legarus - performs so poorly that viewers are a bit confused how he got on the show in the first place, a la Jamie (series 10) or that one guy who made a lime and chocolate cake in the first week.

Chloe - nice flavors and good ideas for decorations, but pretty sloppy. was up for elimination in the first week but came back with a great showstopper.

Melheret - good but not as good as he thinks he is (hence his bread week elimination because of sloppy technique), heavy-handed with the alcohol flavoring

Agape - solid competitor, not flashy but tasty + pretty results. I haven't worked out exact week-by-week themes (that would indeed be Too Much) but I imagine this is something like "Dairy" or "Caramel" or "Vegan," some particular element she just happens to not be strong on. viewers are disappointed by her early elimination

Teleus - Dad contestant. brings in a bunch of weird pans and gadgets he made up himself, does pretty well until it comes to Fiddly Foreign Foods he doesn't know (probably eliminated in French or Patisserie week)

Laela - typically has good flavors and pretty designs but technical knowledge is a bit lacking, so there are usually some flaws in the execution and she's often in the bottom half of technicals

Phresine - Grandma contestant. nails the classics but ultimately isn't creative enough to make it further.

Magus - the "Ian (series 6)" flavor of Dad contestant, often brings in foraged ingredients or eggs from his own chickens or whatnot and revives old recipes/flavor combinations no one else knows about. one week, some of those turn out to just be too weird, leading to his elimination.

Sophos - pretty elaborate decorations and good flavors (on the border of classic and new), but he tends to try a million different embellishments on everything and struggles with timing, occasionally to the detriment of technique.

Kamet - always has really interesting and different flavors and tends to do well in technicals especially, assuming he doesn't get overwhelmed. which is... an assumption (Finalist)

Costis - leans towards classic and indulgent flavors, although sometimes a bit sloppy--the kind of contestant where the judges look at his dishes and say "it's a bit of a mess" and then Paul Hollywood starts laughing because it still tastes delicious (Finalist)

Irene - absolutely stunning visually, queen of the technicals, occasionally gets the "style over substance" warning (Winner)

more details below the cut

I've gone back and forth on whether Eugenides should be in it but ultimately I decided no because I wanted to maintain a pre-show relationship between Laela + Kamet (I thought otherwise at first but then I realized I hadn't left Kamet any longterm friends or family for his finalist video and that's depressing af) and Irene and Sophos which to my knowledge hasn't happened once on the show so far? so having a married couple on top of that seems like it would be a stretch, and also then I think I'd need to make Eugenides the winner on principle and you know what? he can stand to be second fiddle to his wife for a little bit. My alternate backstory for him is that he was actually the winner of MasterChef one year (good with knives), so in the first episode Irene's first little chat to camera is something like "my husband's been bugging me for years to try out and I keep telling him he's got a skewed perspective on cooking competitions, finally I applied just to shut him up... and here we are." Her little video introduction is about how baking is a stress relief from her bigshot job. Her decorations tend to be abstract and gorgeous rather than cutesy.

Kamet, likewise, was nagged into applying by Laela, but she very cleverly framed it as she wanted to apply and wanted him to do it to for moral support. both were confident the other would get in and surprised that they did themselves. This is one of those series where everyone's friendships are immediate and obvious and super adorable (cast of series 10 my beloved...), and in particular these two are holding hands in episode 1. Laela's deep blue robe from TaT sticks in my head for whatever reason so I imagine her making an elaborate blue peacock cake or something one week that wins her star baker. somebody always does a peacock something and it's always impressiev.

Phresine is cool as a cucumber under pressure, always has lovely things to say about everyone else's bakes, and is the go-to last-minute helper because she usually comes in under the time. Irene starts out similar but as the weeks go by she starts to feel the pressure a bit more and cuts it a bit close. Sophos is the worst on timings, and mentions his wife at least once an episode. (I also played with him being single on the show and meeting Helen later through Irene and Eugenides, but this idea is too cute to pass up tbh.) Teleus lives with Relius, a fact that isn't mentioned until a few weeks in when he comments that Relius likes a recipe or gave him an idea for a flavor or something (Relius does not bake himself but will happily sample practice bakes), to the surprised delight of every viewer whose favorite contestant is the oldest gay in any given series (me, me, that person is me).

Costis tends to use a lot of chocolate and, as I said, pretty "classic" flavors--one of those people who makes a full English savory bake at some point. He's usually in the top half of the competition but doesn't get the top until one of the later weeks in the competition, which is a Honey themed week, and he absolutely nails it. The delicate decorations of his honey nut cakes and his use of honeycomb are particularly praised and that's the week he gets star baker. One of those bakers who flirts with elimination the first few weeks but noticeably improves over the course of the show.

My most, like, plot-y ideas are about Kamet (SHOCKER). I imagine he was born in Setra (I usually make Setra a non-autonomous region in my AUs) but arrived in Britain as a child due to [Unspecified Crisis] and ended up with foster dad Jeffa, who was roughly from the same region but not Setra itself; whenever Kamet wanted Setran food as a kid, Jeffa would take him to the library to find recipes and that was what sparked his love of baking. He's well-read on the subject and knows about foods from a lot of different cultures, so he's usually heard of the technical challenges even if he hasn't made or eaten them. He does a lot of fusion flavors, and is ALL ABOUT bread week.

I don't usually make the his-relationship-with-Nahuseresh-is-romantic leap in modern AUs but I think it works for this one because of the nature of the format--Nahuseresh doesn't actually appear on camera but is alluded to once or twice, ends up being Very Displeased that Kamet is doing something for himself, and during the week following Laela's elimination they have the fight that makes Kamet realizes this is actually a terrible relationship and he needs to leave now. He calls Laela to let her know what's up and mentions that, since he'll need to stay in a motel and has presumbly lost his job as a secretary (yeah working for your boyfriend is Bad, he's realized that now), he's going to have to drop out of the show. Laela, despite living in a studio flat without room to host him, immediately thinks "um fuck that" and calls Costis, and within an hour Costis and Aris and a few rugby buddies have moved all of Kamet's things into Costis and Aris's flat, where Costis insists that he'll squeeze into Aris's room (they've shared before, it's fine) and that Kamet gets first dibs on the kitchen for all bake off practices.

None of them actually reveal any of this to the show's producers. Kamet gets a little overwhelmed the following week and nearly walks away from the tent, but Costis jumps in to keep his bake from being ruined, and some soothing words from Irene + the hosts calm him down and he returns to finish. The only mention of the Drama comes in the finale, during the longer video clips they do on each of the contestants. Kamet is deliberately vague about the details of the situation, but Aris shows up in both Costis's and Kamet's videos and references the fact that having TWO flatmates in the bake off is a bit difficult because they only have a standard size kitchen, so he hasn't cooked for himself in a month and has been living off cake and savory breads. one of the hosts talks to Kamet in the tent after that clip is shown and he still won't talk about it in more detail, but says that he wanted to tell people so they could appreciate why Costis hasn't practiced as much the last few weeks (the judges scolded him for winging it a couple of times), and admits that he totally copied some of Costis's techniques for honey week based on watching him at home.

I imagine the finale task is something like an illusion cake--probably with a bunch of additional required elements because the show has been going bonkers with the finale showstoppers in the newer seasons--and Irene wins with a jewelry box containing, among other things, ruby earrings made out of candy. Kamet does a stepwell, and Costis does something architectural (I was thinking castle but something visibly Greek-ish so maybe a temple or a megaron? idk). Irene wins but they're all BFFs and that's obvious, so everyone's delighted for her. The little montage at the end reveals that Irene + Gen are expecting twins, that everybody hangs out all the time, and that Costis + co recently helped Kamet move into his own flat where he's now working on a novel (Immakuk and Ennikar inspired, obvi, leaning heavily on the honey-shared-on-the-road thing and including some recipes that actually work in the narration, albeit still written in an ancient-novel-like-way).

[Obviously not part of the show, but when Kamet mentions that it's time for him to look for his own place, Costis tries to v awkwardly invite him to stay forever and Kamet is like "nope I've got to try this on my own but yes we will go on a date once I've moved out and see how it goes from there."]

[This is so far beyond the scope of the show but also several of them go on to have more baking-related careers and have active social media presences and at one point they're all hanging out and Eugenides pulls out a camera and demands they all produce baking pick-up lines. Teleus refuses and also doesn't believe anyone knows baking pick-up lines off the top of their head or could make them up on the spot. Sophos sort of proves him right by coming up with "you're the apple of my pie," which Eugenides instantly mocks because Sophos's three greatest loves are baking, Helen, and poetry, and that's the best he can do? Helen comes up with "I like my cake the way I like my men--rich, sweet, and bright red," to which Sophos blushes on cue. Irene's is "when I'm with you, I feel like chocolate heated to 50 degrees--I struggle to maintain my temper." Eugenides protests this is more like an anti-pickup line. Irene insists this is the most accurate marriage-related baking pun anyone could ever come up with.

[Laela's is "You and I are like custard--I hope we never split." Kamet's is "You remind me of bread, because I knead you." Costis freezes for a minute and finally comes up with "Fancy a cream horn?" which produces a lot of giggling and makes Kamet slap his arm in such a way that, hen Eugenides posts this video to instagram, fans of the show all go WAIT ARE THEY DATING NOW] [by this point, yes they are] [I didn't even have to google baking pickup lines for this, guys, I legit came up with them on my own, please clap.]

am I obsessed? I might be obsessed

#queen's thief #attolia irene #kamet #costis ormentiedes #sophos #eugenides #teleus #eddis helen #laela #oh dear I bet her tag is virtually unsearchable #sorry laela

[theseusernamesarehard]

Heavenly pastries and mediocre coffee - Fred Weasley

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Summary: On an adventure for some coffee one morning, Fred Weasley happens to wonder into a bakery where he meets a flour covered woman who will leave quite the impression on him.

Warnings: None except this might be a bit boring :/

Time: This takes place the summer before the war so in the beginning of the Half-Blooded prince

A/N: Hi! This is my second fic on here and I would love some feedback especially since it’s a tad different from my other one (meaning that this might be a tad more boring). I had this idea and wrote it out, but while reading it I realized that nothing happens in this. So I would love to know if you enjoy calmer fics like this since I still liked this one!

Word count: 2,8k

gif isn’t mine credit to whoever made it!

“Oi, Fred!” George yelled from downstairs while Fred was still struggling to get out of bed.

“Whaaaat?” he groaned.

“The coffee machine is broken and I cannot fix it for the life of me.”

“Have you tried reparo?” Fred said as he got out and walked to the kitchen where George was standing next to steaming coffee maker.

“Have I tri-Of course I’ve tried reparo! What do you think I am, a bloody idiot?”

“Fine, fine. What do you reckon we do? I’d much rather have a coffee this morning, but I don’t think there’s time to go to a café before we have to open the shop.”

“I can handle the shop if you go get coffee? I’m sure there’s a good place around here somewhere.”

“All right, I’ll go. Want anything special?”

“Just a normal coffee and a pastry of some sort.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can!” Fred promised as he rushed back to his room to get dressed.

“I’ll get everything set up!” George promised.

In twenty minutes, Fred was exiting the shop, now fully dressed and hair still a little damp from his shower. He was on a quest to find a good place for coffee, which there were surprisingly little of on Diagon Alley. Finally, after walking around for a bit, he saw a little bakery that he was quite certain hadn’t been there for long. He entered with a hope that they had at least some sort of machine that produced anything caffeinated and walked up to an empty counter where he rang the bell.

After a moment, a woman erupted through a door that presumably led to the back space of the bakery. She was calm and walked over peacefully despite the fact that her face was almost completely covered in flour.

“Good morning and welcome to Bailey’s bakery! What can I get started for you?” she said enthusiastically, but Fred was trying his hardest to hold in his laughter, so he couldn’t answer right away. “What? Do I have something on my face?” she asked innocently, but the corners of her mouth were twitching as well.

“Perhaps a bit of flour, but it’s barely noticeable. Bailey, I assume?” he asked after chuckling slightly.

“Oh no, I’m actually Y/N. Bailey, the owner, is in the back preparing all the baked goods and trust me, that’s how you want it. I’m truly horrendous at baking.”

“If you don’t bake how do you have all that flour on your face?”

“Well let’s just say Bailey has been a bit stressed with the opening of this place and was not having any of my antics today.”

“So she threw flour at you?”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t think bosses are supposed to treat their employees like that.”

“They are when the employees are their best friend since Hogwarts and truth be told the aforementioned employee kind of deserve it.”

“I don’t know if anyone deserves a face full of flour first thing in the morning.”

“Well that just comes to show that you haven’t met me before. Now, what can I get for you?”

“Right, I meant to ask, do you have any coffee here?”

“Oh yes we do! And it is in fact extremely mediocre.”

“Aren’t you supposed to say it’s excellent?”

“Well see now that’s the trick. If I say the coffee is excellent, you’ll know I’m saying it just because I am meant to sell it. But if I say the coffee is mediocre, your interest is peaked and you’ll have no choice, but to try it and see for yourself. Am I correct?”

“I suppose I am more intrigued by the coffee now.”

“Exactly. So technically, this is a better way of selling coffee.”

“You are right.”

“So a coffee it is. Here or to go?”

“Two coffees actually. And both to go.”

“Two? Seems as though I am a better saleswoman than I thought.”

“Perhaps you should open your own shop.”

“As much as I clearly have a knack for selling things, I think I fair better as a worker who offers anecdotes about coffee and then pours that coffee”, she laughed and presented her skill to dot he latter. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually. I was asked to bring some sort of baked good, but I have been given no other instructions. Any recommendations?”

“I’ll go and see what our ever-so-cheerful baker would say.”

With that, the young woman walked to the door and stood behind it to open it so that she was not in front of the door when it was opened. She clearly knew what she was doing as another handful of flour was thrown out the door onto the floor immediately.

“Ha! Missed me”, she smiled, now standing at the door. Unfortunately that was when she got another face full of flour, but she just shrugged at Fred and grinned widely. “I’ve also got a customer here, don’t know if that’s worth mentioning.”

“You do not!” a woman’s voice yelled in horror.

“Oh yes I do. A very lovely gentleman who needs some recommendations on baked goods. have any to offer him?” she smiled.

“Go get yourself cleaned up, I’ll take it from here”, a frantic looking woman with an apron and a bit of flour on her forehead appeared from the door and pushed her grinning friend inside. “I am so sorry sir. We are not usually this unprofessional it has just been quite the morning. It’s just me and her right now and she has a tendency to get a bit snarky, so hopefully she wasn’t too bad”, the woman, who Fred figured was Bailey, started to ramble.

“Oh not at all, she was an excellent saleswoman I’d say.”

“Well good. Now you apparently need to be recommended something to eat?”

Fred mostly zoned out on the conversation with Bailey although she seemed to be very passionate about baked goods, asking multiple questions which he tried to answer. Unfortunately his thoughts were quite focused on the worker who he had been talking with. 

After a lot longer than expected, he was finally returned to the shop, which was now full of customers and went to find George who seemed to be on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

“Thank god you’re here! Where did you go to get coffee? Ireland?” he asked as he took the cup of coffee and pastry bag with a simple pain au chocolate inside it.

“Found this new bakery with some interesting workers”, Fred chuckled.

“You can tell me about it later, ‘cause right now we have a shop full of customers and I cannot handle it by myself anymore!”

“Let’s get to work then!”

The next morning George entered their kitchen and figured he must still be dreaming. He had never seen Fred this cheerful on this time of day (Christmas as children didn’t count) without any coffee.

“What are you doing up already?”

“I figured since the coffee machine is still broken I’d go to that coffee shop again”, Fred explained. “This time a bit earlier so you don’t have to manage the shop all by yourself for as long.”

“So which one is it?”

“What?”

“Yesterday you told me there were two women working at that bakery so which one do you have a crush on?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I bet it’s the worker, not the owner. The one with flour all over her face.”

“I do not have a crush on either of them!”

“Oh please! You never wake up early and besides, if you didn’t have a crush you would’ve made me go get the coffee since you did it yesterday. So which one is it?”

“This is completely ridiculous. I’m going!” Fred declared and left to the shop.

“Get me another one of those pastries!” his brother yelled after him.

George smiled from the satisfaction of knowing he had hit the nail on the head. Fred on the other hand chose to ignore him. Sure he had thought that Y/N was funny, charming and she seemed to be a sight for sore eyes with and without the flour all over her face. 

He got further proof of this when he entered the shop and saw her ringing up a customer this time face clean. She had her hair in a slight updo away from her face and was smiling while she thanked the customer and handed them their pastry.

“Good morning again. Here for more coffee?” she asked.

“I am indeed. Two cups to go again, to be specific, please”, he replied and she got on with pouring the coffee. “And my brother found his pastry tasted like, and I quote, ‘it had cascaded down from heaven into his mouth’ so I have been asked to bring another one.”

“I’ll tell the baker her work was appreciated and get another one in a second. Would you like anything else?”

“I think I’m obligated to try this heavenly chocolate thing, since he didn’t give me any yesterday.”

“I’ll go get those for you”, she smiled and Fred couldn’t help, but notice how her smile seemed to light up her whole face.

Needless to say, the twins didn’t get a new coffee machine. George made fun of Fred for it quite a bit, but as long as he had his pain au chocolate there was no way he was going to actually complain. Fred kept on going there and talking with her while they waited for his pastries to get baked or while she was pouring him coffee was his favourite part of the day. He couldn’t help, but notice that even when she had other customers, although she joked around with them for a bit, she would always return to him and continue their conversation while she was done ringing them up or telling them to wait for their baked goods. This was all the encouragement he needed to ask her out and after a week of going there and talking with her every morning, he realized that there was no way he wasn’t going to do it So he walked to the bakery and smiled slightly when her face was once again full of flour.

“Morning Fred.”

“Bailey stressed again?” he smirked.

“Yep. There was some misunderstanding with the supplier and now we have 10 extra sacs of flour. I very politely asked if she would like me to get annoying again so she can throw it at me and looks like that was enough for her.”

“You seem like a very helpful worker.”

“Oh yes, I’m indeed excellent to have around. So the usual?”

“The usual.”

“Two mediocre coffees and two chocolate things coming right up.”

“You know, I meant to talk to you about that, because I have a complaint.”

“Really? Is it the flour throwing? Because unless we throw it at you I don’t think you have the right to complain.”

“No, I’m accusing you of false advertising.”

“Her name really is Bailey, if that’s what this is about. I’m sure I can find a way to get her to show you her birth certificate.”

“This is actually about the coffee. About how you keep advertising it as mediocre? I’ve come to the conclusion that your coffee is actually quite good and definitely deserves to be described as such instead of mediocre.”

“Seems as though you haven’t had really good coffee then. Ours is definitely good, but it’s still right in the middle of the scale. It’s very possible that you just haven’t had any coffee that’s on the better side.”

“Where does one even find that kind of coffee then?”

“The secret is little muggle coffee shops. They have the best coffee ever! I think it’s because they never use any magic to speed up the process or anything. Has a really authentic taste.”

Just as Fred was about to suggest that she could show him one of those places he heard a familiar voice behind them.

“Fred! I didn’t know you come here too!” Lee Jordan laughed.

“Hi Lee, actually just found this place a few days ago.”

“Hi Lee”, Y/N smiled form behind the counter. 

“Hi Y/N, can I get a cup of coffee and one of those strawberry pastries you have?” Lee ordered. “To go.”

“Of course, I’ll go get some. We might be out of the french chocolate things that I don’t know how to say the name of, but Bailey can whip them up pretty fast if you don’t mind waiting there”, she explained, addressing the last part to Fred.

“Don’t mind at all”, Fred said and she disappeared behind the door. 

He was just in the middle of catching up with Lee when she returned with Lee’s pastry and started pouring him coffee, which made him excuse himself to go talk to her.

Fred didn’t catch that much of their conversation, but he started listening more carefully when he realized Lee seemed to be explaining some sort of date. talking about dinner, a walk and stuff like that.

“So how does that sound?” he asked by the end of his explanation.

“Make it the nice little Italian place nearby and you’re good”, Y/N replied

Of course! Fred realized that the last time he was over, Lee had told the twins hew was kind of seeing someone, but wouldn’t tell them who. It must’ve been Y/N. Fred sighed at the lost opportunity to ask out the girl.

“Great!” he said and tried to hand her money, but she claimed it was on the house. 

A date and free coffee? Unfair. Fred thought again.

“And Lee?” she yelled after him as he was about to leave. “Three roses. Not one more and not one less.”

Fred nodded as she told him she’d go check in the back if his pastries were ready. And soon enough she came out with a bag and handed it to him along with the two coffees. He thanked her and walked away, still thinking about the missed opportunity.

Over the next few days he still kept going to the coffee shop, despite George reminding him they could always get a new one. He made sure he was being more careful, though, since he didn’t want to accidentally flirt with Lee’s girlfriend.

Y/N seemed to notice the change too. It wasn’t anything monumental and she only had a few previous encounters to compare it with, but the man was clearly being more reserved. He barely chatted with her while she was getting his coffee and she kept on wondering why. One afternoon, Y/N decided to take matters into her own hands. After she got off work, she ventured on to the streets of Diagon Alley and went to find the joke shop.

Y/N smiled as she saw the bright orange and purple store front and stepped in to find complete chaos inside. She found Fred standing around and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hi!” she grinned. The man looked at her, confused and it seemed like she didn’t recognize her. “Err...it’s Y/N? From the bakery? Just less flour in my face and no apron.”

“Ah I assume you’ve come to find my brother”

Brother? Y/N thought and then remembered. “Right! You’re twins! So you’re not Fred then?”

“It’s alright. I forget we’re identical sometimes too. Makes for scary mornings. Anyways I’m George. George Weasley, nice to meet you”, he extended his hand and she shook it. 

“Nice to meet you George, like I said I’m Y/N. Do you have any idea where Fred might be?”

“I’ll go get him. Wait here”, George grinned.

Y/N waited and looked around all the products. She grinned at how creative they were.

“You were looking for me?” Fred appeared behind her. 

“I was. I got off work and decided to stop by and see the shop for myself.”

“Well, does it match your expectations.”

“I don’t think anyone could expect this. In a good way. This is amazing!”

“Why thank you. Were you looking into buying anything here?”

“I actually came to ask you about something. I was thinking that maybe once you get off work I could take you to one of those muggle coffee shops and show you what actually good coffee tastes like?”

“Okay, hold on. Aren’t you dating Lee?”

“What? No, why would I be dating Lee?”

“The other day he was clearly asking you out. The Italian place? Three roses not one more not one less?”

“That? No, no you’ve got it all wrong. Lee’s dating my roommate and he was running his plan through me since he wanted to make the date special and I know her pretty well.”

“So he took your roommate to the Italian place and gave her the three roses?”

“Yep, I’ve never been a fan roses anyway”, Y/N smiled. “But I do like Italian food.”

“Perhaps I’ll have to take you to that place sometime.”

“I’ve already asked you out to coffee, you can’t ask me out during the same day”, she laughed.

“Can’t blame a man for trying.”

“You still haven’t answered me about the coffee, you know.”

“I figured asking you out on a date means that I wouldn’t mind going on a date with you.”

“So what time do you get off?”

“Right now”, George replied cheerfully. 

“Were you eavesdropping?” Fred asked.

“No, I just happened to be stacking shelves over there and couldn’t help, but to hear some flirting. You can go, I’ll take it from here.”

“Thanks, Geore. Why don’t you lead the way?” he said, addressing the last part to Y/N, who didn’t hesitate in taking his hand and leading him outside.

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #fanfic

[izukuwus]

Sweet Words, Sweetcheeks

A/N: Day 13 of @birds-have-teeth​’s Izumonth server collab.

Summary: It’s been some time since you and Izuku took the plunge and bought the bakery, and Izuku couldn’t be happier working together with you towards both of your dreams. Well, except for one thing. (baker!Izuku x reader)

Warnings: brush ur teeth cus this one’s straight sugar

Word count: 2100+

A mop of green hair and matching eyes poke around the corner as you enter Lemon Wedge, the bell above the door signifying your arrival. "You're back! Any issues with the delivery?"

"Not a one!" you chirp, stifling a giggle at the sight of Izuku with flour dusting his clothing, frosting smeared on his cheek. "Have any of you boys eaten yet?"

A chorus of 'yes' sounds from the back room, causing you to sigh. "Anything that isn't on our menu?"

No one answers. You roll your eyes, making your way around the counter and rattling some bags of takeout loudly. "Alright, if any of you aren't doing something you absolutely cannot put down right this moment—which at least one of you should be, given I left you guys alone to deliver all those cakes this morning—come eat your fill." The boys have been giving you the runaround all day, your normal delivery driver having called out this morning with an embarrassingly pathetic attempt to sound sick.

"I'm free!" Kiri shouts enthusiastically. 

"I am as well," Tokoyami says, dusting flour off his hands. You watch as both boys make their way to the sinks to wash up.

Izuku lets out a whine from where he stands at his workstation, painstakingly kneading bread. "This batch has thirty more minutes of kneading before it's ready to proof, but I don't want the food to get cold..."

You set one bag of food down on a clean counter for Kirishima and Tokoyami to dig into, humming as you approach your boyfriend. "They're subs, babe. You don't have to worry about them getting cold."

You set the bag containing yours and his food on an adjacent counter, popping up on your toes and making like you're going in for a kiss. He's quick to respond, which makes it all the funnier when a disappointed whine leaves his lips as you lean over and lick the smear of frosting off his cheek.

"Angelcake, don't tease me~"

You smile, nuzzling against his cheek for a moment. "Sorry, sweetcheeks. Ya had something on your face there." 

"You're lucky I've got this bread to pay attention to, you—"

The bell rings as a customer enters. You bop his nose gently. "I'll be right with you~" you croon, practically skipping off to the front counter to deal with the customer.

Izuku waits. As Kirishima and Tokoyami go off to eat, he waits. As he listens to your sweet customer service voice while you talk to the customer, he waits. And when you're done and good and the customer has been served with a smile, Izuku waits.

When you return, he launches a small pinch of flour directly into your face.

You splutter, reaching up to wipe at your face in pure shock. "Did you just..."

"Maybe," he says, trying hard not to laugh as you stand there with flour dusting your face.

"I was coming back over here to lovingly hand-feed you your sub and you just..."

"I'll still take the sub?" he tries, batting his eyelashes innocently.

You sigh, heading over to the sink and wiping your face with some damp paper towels. "Nope, you lost your chance. Eat after you get that bread proofing, sweetcheeks."

He whines at your dismissal, but can't step away from the bread. You get back to work cleaning, stifling your giggles when his attempt to protest (something along the lines of "I've been kneading bread all day") is cut off by the phone ringing. You answer it in a second, waggling your fingers at Izuku teasingly.

"Hello, you've reached Lemon Wedge Cakes and Bakes, this is [name] speaking! How can I help you?"

Izuku turns back to his bread with a sigh. At least you didn't get a chance to question him. He'd almost ruined—well, that's not important. When you return from jotting down the call-in details, his transgression is forgotten, and you feed him bites of his sub between kisses and clean dishes.

~

Izuku leaves the bakery for the night before you do. Often, since you live together, either your shifts are at the same times to make transportation easy or he'll simply hang around and relax while waiting for your own shift to end, which usually results in him helping you with closing whether you want him to or not. Most nights, however, if schedules and workloads don't permit, he'll head home first to buy dinner for the both of you to eat when you're home, usually being too tired from being in a kitchen all day to get back in the kitchen to handle dinner. Tonight is one of the nights in which Izuku goes on ahead, leaving you to handle the storefront and get everything closed up while the high schooler at the register handles the last of the sales for the night.

When you finally arrive home, it's hours after Izuku, and honestly, you're excited to just get off your feet, crash on the couch, and watch some vapid reality show with takeout balanced on your chest and Izuku's hand in yours. What greets you, though, isn't takeout and reality shows. Izuku's head pops out from the kitchen with a broad grin. "Welcome home, angel!"

The living room is clean, the dining room lit with candles as the smell of something homey greets you. Izuku's hair is fluffy and damp, implying he's taken a shower since his shift at the bakery. You hear the sound of water running, then Izuku rushes over to meet you at the door with a kiss. "I missed you," he breathes against your lips, effortlessly picking your feet off the floor with his hug.

You snort, playfully pushing him away. His arms hold you tight to his chest, though—no escape from Izuku's love. "Izuku, it's been four hours."

"Four long hours!" 

You giggle and kiss him on the nose. "I missed you too." Your arms wind around his neck, rewarding his affection by relaxing into his hug as he sets you down. "What's all this? I thought we were getting Chinese tonight."

Izuku rubs the back of his neck. "Well, I thought I'd—you know, do something nice for you. You're always taking care of me, and we've been working so hard since we bought the bakery, and..."

Another soft kiss, this time pressed to his lips. "You cleaned everything up and cooked for me?"

"Myeah," he says, muffled as you continue to press kisses to his face. "There's cake, too."

"Oh, Izu. I love it. Thank you so much." As you pull back, prepared to sit down, kick your shoes off, and finally eat, a thought occurs to you. "Does all this have anything to do with why Denki called out this morning with no notice claiming to be suffering a, quote, '24 hour leprosy attack'?"

"Don't be mad, he tried his best," Izu says, ruffling your hair. "Are you hungry? Because the food's ready if you are."

"Hungry and exhausted." You press into his touch with a smile. "I swear I could marry you." Whatever he mutters in response, you don't quite catch. "What's that, Izu?"

"N-nothing!" he squeaks. "Come on, you should sit down. I'll get your food." He disappears into the kitchen, stumbling on the step into the elevated area with a yelp. "W-what do you want to drink? Is champagne fine?"

"Are you trying to seduce me, Izuku Midoriya?" you tease as you wriggle out of your jacket and kick off your shoes.

"[name] we've been dating for four years."

"And?"

"Of course I'm trying to seduce you," he calls, stifling laughter. "Gotta give you a reason to stick around, you know?"

"As if you're ever getting rid of me." You make your way across the room, draping yourself in a chair dramatically. "Honestly, how am I ever going to thank you for this one, babe?"

He emerges from the kitchen, setting a glorious-looking plate of food in front of you. "W-well, you don't have to, but there is one way you could thank me."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh?"

He sets his own plate of food across the table, smoothing his hands over his pants almost... nervously? "Hold on." He disappears back into the kitchen.

"Wait, no, get back here, tell me what I can do!"

After a moment, he returns, taking level, even breaths as if he's trying to calm himself. "You sure you wanna know?" He smiles, one that's almost forced. You'd be worried for him if you weren't used to his random bouts of nerves. 

"Tell meee," you whine.

He chuckles, circling around behind you so your head rests against his stomach. One arm comes around to hug you as he crouches behind you, pressing a kiss just below your ear. "Okay, okay. Just close your eyes and be patient, okay?"

You grin, but acquiesce, closing your eyes as he brings a hand up to cover them for an added layer of protection. "I-I've never been very good with words, s-so please don't make fun of me if I mess this up."

"It only adds to your charm," you tease, feeling him shuffle around behind you.

"[name]," he whines, "I said be patient."

You mime zipping your lips, letting him continue. He curses under his breath, fumbling for something that just thumped quietly against the floor, and you patiently wait for him to collect himself. He inhales, exhales, and starts again. "Okay. I... I said this earlier, but since we bought Lemon Wedge and started pouring everything into it, you've been working so hard, and I really can't express to you how much your support means to me." The hand that's been frantically shuffling behind your (and—you assume—his) back comes to rest on your chest, a quick kiss being pressed to the top of your head before he continues.

"I've loved you for a long time, longer than the years we've been together. But in the past two years, seeing you put your all into something that's my dream as much as it is yours... I've fallen in love with you all over again, and um..." He pauses for a long moment, taking several deep breaths. "Man, I can only shut up when I need to be able to talk, huh?"

"It's okay," you coo, still unable to see. "You know I'm listening no matter what."

He groans, resting his head atop yours for a moment. "See, you're perfect. Ever since we met, you've been nothing but supportive. I've always been a little insecure, but I've never once doubted that you loved me, because you've always shown that you care. Listening when I talk, even when I've gone off on some crazy tangent and I'm just thinking out loud. Bringing me food during the day so you're sure I've eaten something healthy. You mean the world to me, angelcake. There are days I'm sure I wouldn't have even bothered getting out of bed if I didn't know you'd be there with a smile. And I know, we already live together, I already wake up to you every morning, and that alone is more than I ever could have hoped for, but... wait, hold on, a-are you crying?"

"No," you sniffle, tears running down your cheeks. "Finish your sentence, 'Zuzu."

He presses a quick kiss to your cheek, stopping a line of tears in its tracks before finally removing his hand from your eyes. You gasp at the sight, though really, you already knew it was coming. "If you'll have me, [name]... I'd like it if we could... if you'd..." He lets out a tiny groan. "Sorry, sorry. [name], will you marry me?"

The ring resting on your chest is beautiful. An iridescent fire opal in the center, ringed with small diamonds and emeralds that instantly call your boyfriend—no, fiancé to mind.

You nearly fall off the chair as you flip around to tackle Izuku, crashing your lips to his as he yelps and steadies you. "Hey, c-careful, you could get hurt!"

"It's okay," you sigh against his lips, tears streaming freely down your cheeks. "You'll always catch me. Of course I'll marry you, Izuku. I'll marry you a thousand times, a million, even. Every day you'll have me, if you want it."

Izuku's tears join your own as he sits back, pulling you into his lap on the dining room floor so he can hold you close. "I'm so—so glad."

The dinner is spent in giggling tears as the two of you move to the floor to eat in each other's arms. It's hard to pull away from him, even when you've both decided you need to get off the floor and at least move to the couch. You spend the night cuddled up close to him, admiring your engagement ring with a soft gaze.

Tags: @tooloudarts​ @sapid-rose​ @xxangelpridexx​ @birds-have-teeth​ @icythotsenpai​ @warmchoccymilk​ @wesparklebitch​ @izoodles​ @fujimoribaby​ @my-bnha-things​ @denise-the-death-goddess​ @themerpenguin​ @sincerebubbles​ @themmmelissa @fudobaby​

#midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my fics #baker!izuku midoriya #izumonth server collab #izucult server #fluff