bakery | oscar piastri x baker!reader (written + smau)
based on this request
syn: you've always known oscar piastri. you grew up sitting on the opposite side of dinner tables, passing each other on the street, sitting quietly in the corner of events between your families.
it isn't until you grow up and see eachother for the first time in years that you realise you can actually talk to him, and the funny thing is, he's always been willing to listen.
wc: 4k
cw: lots of fluff and smiling in this one, reader is a yapper, oscar is a listener, no smut but there's kissing
a/n: this was requested ages ago and it took me FOREVER to get started on </3 hope you guys enjoy! also ignore the hair color if it doesn't match yours, i chose pics based off vibes
youâd never planned to move to monaco.Â
it was a spontaneous decision, one that came to you right when you were about to fall asleep and stayed when you woke up the next morning. just like how youâd never planned to continue baking till adulthood, but itâd turned into your full-time job anyway.
âjuliette,â you call, and one of your staff members pokes her head out from the bakeryâs kitchen. âcould you focus more on the ĂŠclairs?â
âgot it,â she calls back, and you turn back to the register.Â
the bakery youâd opened hadnât been planned either.
youâd moved with the intention of working under someone, and opening your own store was just a lingering thought that crossed by every so often. it wasnât until youâd passed by this place, which an older woman named luicia had put up for sale, that the thought had become a very real possibility.Â
youâd hired louis first, a middle-aged man who acted like he hated everyone but really didnât, to bake alongside you, then juliette as an extra hand on restocking and serving customers. juliette was nineteen, extremely extroverted, hated anyone shortening her name, and couldnât be more perfect for the job.
the bell at the door rings, but youâre too busy with sorting out some of the pastries at the display to look.Â
someone stops at the register, and you donât glance up as you say, âhi, what can i get for you?â
at the lack of answer, you finally stop what youâre doing.
instead of a regular, or some stranger that youâre used to, youâre staring right at a face you hadnât seen in years.Â
oscar piastri. the son of one of your momâs closest friends, someone youâd grown up with yet had strayed so far from.
âoscar?â
he looks equally as stunned, eyes wide as he stares back at you.
âwhat are youâŚâ he trails off, still frozen on the spot. âyou work here?â
âi own this place,â you answer, and he seems to slowly relax. âwhat are you doing here?â
âi live here.â
âso do i.â
âwhy didnât i know that?â he frowns. âwhenâd you move to monaco?â
âa year or so ago,â you say, and you glance behind him to where another man is on the phone outside. âi...did you wanna order something?â
âoh, uh, yeah,â oscar mutters, glancing over at the display. the bell for the door rings again, and he glances back. âlando, whatâd you want?â
lando looks over at you, in the middle of pocketing his phone as he smiles politely and turns back to oscar.
âĂŠclairs,â juliette sidles up beside you, sliding the tray into itâs display. she glances at the two, her eyebrows raising, âshit, arenât those formula 1 drivers?â
âoh,â you say, focused on trying to sort out all the thoughts in your head. âyeah.â
âlucky you,â she smiles, already walking back into the kitchen to presumably grab more.Â
oscar places his order, a croissant, pain-au-chocolat, and a coffee, and when lando moves to sit at one of the tables, oscar stays standing. youâve seen him on social media, on the tv sometimes, but in person? a whole different story.Â
heâd been 15 the last time you saw him. it wasnât like heâd moved countries, heâd just been too busy traveling around the country for races. a year without seeing him turned into multiple, and now here you were, in your early twenties, standing face to face with him for the first time in years.Â
âso,â he says, and you glance over at him from the coffee maker. âhowâve you been?â
âpretty good,â you say, and you blame the heat rising up your neck on monacoâs summer weather. ânever expected you to show up here though.â
âreally?â he says, arms crossing as he leans against the counter. âyour storeâs right in the heart of monte carlo. donât you get f1 drivers showing up all the time?â
âcharles comes here a lot,â you say, ignoring the way his eyes are trained solely on you as you speak. âmax a few times, but he isnât a regularâhis girlfriend is though. comes with their daughters almost every week.â
you go quiet, realising you mightâve leaked more information that needed, but he doesnât look surprised.Â
âyou look good,â he says, and you canât help the small smile that makes its way onto your face. âreally good.â
âso do you,â you say, finishing up the coffee and starting on the rest of his order. âreally different from fifteen.â
âhas it been that long?â he says, and you laugh quietly. âi swear it hasnât.â
âtime probably goes fast when youâre busy driving formula 1 cars.â
you smile, passing over the rest of his order.Â
âenjoy,â you say, and he waits a second, like heâs debating saying something else, before picking up the paper bags and the coffee. âsee you around.â
âyeah,â he says, and you watch him give you another quick once over. âit was nice seeing you again.â
you try not to stare too hard as him and lando walk out again. lando says something, then looks back at you.Â
âdo you know him?â juliette asks, and you snap out of your thoughts. âoscar?â
âi did,â you answer. âwe grew up together.â
âchildhood best friend?â
ânot really.â
âhm,â she says, starting to fix her hair in the glass displayâs reflection. âlooked like he was.â
deep down, you know thatâs not the last time youâll see him. not even close.
liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux and others
ynln rare sighting of me outside the bakery
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alexandrasaintmleux cute đ¤
liked by creator
user1 is this girl related to f1 or something?? oscar charles and max all follow her
user2 she owns a really popular bakery that a lot of drivers go to
user3 i heard she grew up with oscar back in aus or something
juliette.faure body tea
ynln LMAO
liked by lando, oscarpiastri, ynln and others
mclaren Your favorite Papaya duo đ§Ą
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lando that stuff from @/ynln was fire
ynln why thank you
lando @/oscarpiastri go pick up more pls
oscarpiastri go by yourself
user4 LANDOSCARRRR
user5 watch @/ynln 's bakery become a sponsor
ynln mclaren hmu!!
âlet me do it.â
âno.â
âlouis.â
youâre standing in the kitchen of the bakery, hands covered with flour, and louis is kneading dough on the countertop.Â
âitâs nine in the morning! you've already made the dough,â he says, waving behind him in dismissal. âand decorated cakes. and filled the tarts. andââ
âi know what i did,â you say, frowning. âbut youâve been busy too.â
âiâm 49,â he says, like it means something. âyouâre in your twenties. i need to keep busy.â
âthatâs unfair.â
âthatâs the truth,â he turns to you, eyes narrowing. âlet me be.â
you let out a sigh, shaking your head as you turn away. just as youâre about to check on the pastries in the oven, juliette knocks on the kitchen wall and calls your name.Â
âwhatâs wrong?â you say, wincing at the fact that you know youâve probably got flour on your face. âis there something out of stock?â
âi think you might want this customer.â
âwhat?â
you glance over at the counter, and lo and behold, oscar piastri is standing there. juliette lets out what sounds like a giggle, waltzing past to probably go annoy louis.
âoscar,â you manage to say, and he smiles. âyouâre back.â
âi am,â he says, leaning against the counter. âlando wants more.â
âlando, or you?â
âbit of both,â he says, and you laugh. âhe says i live closer and heâs too lazy to walk here.â
âfair enough,â you say, dusting your hands off and looking up at him. âsame as last time?â
âsure,â he says, and you immediately start on the coffee. âhowâve you been since the last time i saw you?â
the sound of traffic floats in through the open windows, along with the hum of the coffee machine. again, he stays standing as you make his order, fixated on every word you say like it matters.Â
âpretty good. charles came in the other day and said heâs surprised we know each other,â you donât look at him while you talk, but you know heâs listening. âmade a few new recipes for the tarts, experimented a little too much i think. i look a mess.â
ânah,â he says, and you glance up at him for a second. ânot even close. youâve got a bit of flour on your cheek though.â
you sigh, brushing it away, âthanksâoh, you should try one.â
âone of the tarts?â
âuh-huh,â you say, sliding a croissant into a paper bag and setting it on the counter. âunless youâre in a rush.â
ânot at all.â
he lets you walk back into the kitchen and grab one from the tray louis was looking over. the man scowls, but passes you a napkin anyway.
âi donât actually remember what i changed about it,â you frown as you give it to oscar. âi think it was something to do with the dough, and the filling too. maybe i let it set longer? this oneâs the strawberry one, by the way.â
he lets you talk as he bites into it, adding in a few âmhmsâ or âreally?âs, until you realise heâs finished the pastry and is staring at you smiling.Â
you halt your sentence, blinking at him.Â
âwas it good?â
âbetter than good,â he says, and for some reason, you donât doubt him. âshit, think i might need more of those actually.â
âseriously?â
âlandoâs gonna freak out over them,â he laughs, and you hide the way blush is forming on your cheeks by pretending youâre dusting off more flour. âcould i get a box or something?â
âiâve got other flavoursââ
âpick whatever you want,â he cuts you off, and you smile. âwhatever you think is best.â
âwhat are you doing?â louis says as you walk back into the kitchen, sliding the tray of tarts towards you. âhey, i said oneââ
âspecial order,â you say, not even hiding the smile on your face. âby a formula 1 driver, louis. how can you refuse a formula 1 driver?â
âshe means itâs an order by the guy she has a crush on,â juliette interjects, though she isnât looking up from the oven. âoscar piastri.â
âsince when have i had a crush on him?â
âsince he walked in a week ago.âÂ
you seal the box closed, pointedly ignoring her. Â
âi expect compensation!â louis calls as you walk back out of the kitchen. âlots!â
oscar is still standing there, leaned against the counter on his phone. as soon as he senses you walk back in, he looks up.
âi was thinking,â he suddenly says as you put everything into a separate bag. âare you free later? around lunch, maybe.â
you raise your eyebrows, âlunch?â
âto catch up, yâknow?â his tone is casual, but his body language isnât. heâs still slightly leaned against the wooden countertop, still surrounded by the labyrinth of bread, pastries, and cakes. âbut if youâre busyââ
âno, iâm not,â you scramble to say. âlunch sounds good.â
âyeah?â he physically relaxes, eyes lighting up slightly. âyou havenât changed your number, right? iâll text you later.â
âsure,â you smile, and he picks up the bag and coffee. âsee you later, then.â
the sound of the bell at the door ringing lasts for what seems like a lifetime.Â
youâre stuck standing at the counter, his words playing on repeat through your head, the entire conversation playing on repeat.Â
âsomeone has a crush,â juliette says, a piece of bread in her hands.Â
you smile, walking past her towards the kitchen.Â
âshut up, julie.â
âmy name is not julie!â
oscar would be lying if he said he wasnât happy he ran into you that day.
ran into probably wouldnât be the best explanation, since heâd been the one to walk into the bakery that you owned, but it was the only explanation he could think of.
âthis shit is good,â lando says, mouth full of the tart youâd made oscar try. âlike, stupidly good. spectacular.â
zak and andrea are at the front of the meeting room, going over some strategic plan, and all oscar can focus on is the thought of you, and the lunch heâd spontaneously decided on asking you to.
âlando,â he says, eyes narrowing as he leans back in his chair. lando wipes at the corner of his mouth, looking over at him. âhypothetically, if i were to take a friend i hadnât seen for almost ten years out to lunch, where would i go?â
lando blinks at him.Â
âyou meanâŚher?â he points at the tarts on the table in front of him. âthe girl who made these?â
âyes. her.â
âdate?â
ânot really?â
âreunion?â
âi guess so.â
lando cocks his head, looking elsewhere in thought.
âthereâs this good italian place near her bakery,â he says, and then he nods like heâs confirming his decision. âiâll send you the address. itâs got a real good view of the dock and everything.â
he smiles, arms crossing.Â
âitâs a date,â he says. âdonât lie to me.â
âiâm not!â oscar frowns. âitâs a catch-up thing.â
âhave you got a crush on her?âÂ
âi havenât seen her in ages. that wouldnât make sense.â
âcould be one of thoseâŚfate things,â lando shrugs. âhave you heard of that string theory thing? i saw it on my for you page the other day.â
âwhat side of social media are you on?â
again, he shrugs, reaching for another tart, âfine. deny it all you want.â
by the time the meeting is over, itâs 12. oscar had texted you the address of the italian place already, and when heâd first opened his messages with you, the last one had been exactly eight years ago about some kind of family dinner between his and yours. your contact name had been a nickname he didnât remember giving youâhe didnât even know he was close enough to you before to give you a nickname.
youâre standing by the entrance of the restaurant when he gets there. your apron is gone, flour completely dusted away, and your hair isnât tied up anymore.Â
you were gorgeous.Â
that was the only thought circulating through his head when you glance up and see him, offering a smile and a little wave.
âit was only a two minute walk from the bakery,â you tell him as he stops beside you. âyou didnât keep me waiting, i promise.â
âyou sure?â he says, following you into the restaurant.Â
you both choose to sit at a table outside, and like lando had mentioned, the view of the dock is crystal clear. he lets you take a few pictures of it before talking again, quietly going over your features that he couldnât believe heâd almost forgotten.
âever been here before?â you ask, setting your phone down on the table and picking up the menu. âitâs pretty.â
âtruthfully, no,â he says. âlando recommended it to me.â
âguessing heâs been on a lot of dates here then,â you say, and when he pauses, you tense up too. ânot that this is a dateânot that itâs a bad thing. i mean, wellââ
âi get it,â he says, and you cover your face with your hands, blush creeping up your neck. âi get what you mean.â
âi think all that flour is getting to my head or something,â you say, slowly lowering you hands and reaching for the menu again. âhow were the tarts?â
oscar smiles, âlando finished them.â
âseriously?â you gasp. âall of them?â
âand he wants more.â
âthey were just a test batch,â you look over the dishes on the menu, but none of it really sticks. âyou were the first to try.â
âwhat an honor.â
you glance up, giving him a small smile.Â
five minutes later, both of you have ordered, and youâre playing with the necklace around your neck mindlessly, trying not to stare at the man in front of you. wind is softly messing at the ends of your hair, and the scent of flowers from the nearby flower shop fill your nose. you can tell heâs trying not to look at you too.
âtell me what you changed about the tarts,â oscar says, abruptly, pulling you away from your thoughts.Â
you tilt your head, âyou wonât understand a word.â
âdoesnât matter,â he answers, reaching for your glass to pour you water. âitâs interesting.â
you spend the next hour talking about batter, dough, fillings, random baking techniques youâd discovered. the topic switches every now and then, your brain struggling to keep focused on one thought before moving onto another.Â
throughout all of it, oscarâs staring, a soft smile on his face.Â
âi talk a lot, donât i?â you frown at one point. âlike, a lot.â
âthatâs a good thing,â he answers like itâs second nature. âcause i like listening.â
by the end of it, when your plates are practically wiped clean in attempt to drag out the conversation as far as it would go, youâre wondering why you were never close to him in the first place.Â
âhowâs your mum?â you ask him as youâre walking down the street, back towards the bakery. âi havenât talked to her in a while.â
âsheâs goodâmisses you, by the way. i told her i ran into you.â
though youâd never really been close with oscar growing up, youâd been close with the rest of his family. his mother was the one whoâd stand in the kitchen with you at ten years old, teaching you how to preheat an oven and tell if the inside of a cookie was baked enough.
âi miss her too,â you say. âa lot. i donât think iâd be where i am right now if not for her.â
âi canât tell her that,â oscar says, making you look over at him. âsheâll book a flight to monaco within two seconds.â
you let out a laugh, but it gets cut short when he reaches over, pulling you back just as youâre about to cross the road. a car speeds past, and you blink.Â
âoh.â
âcareful,â he mutters, hand still around your wrist.Â
the road is clear now, but neither of you move.Â
âwhereâd you park?â you ask him, just to get rid of the heavy tension thatâs started to settle over you. âyou donât have to drop me off back at the bakery.â
you swear you feel his fingers tighten around you, but you donât pull away.Â
âyou sure?â he says, staring at you. âi canââ
âitâs only five seconds away, oscar,â you smile, and finally, his hand falls away from yours. the absence of it is immediate, but you ignore it by reaching up to brush your hair out of your face. âi promise iâll be fine.â
he stays quiet, his eyes on you, and you can tell heâs choosing whether to argue back or not.Â
âalright,â he settles on, clearing his throat as he puts his hands in his pockets. âiâll see you later then.â
âsure,â you say, also straightening. âthanks for today.â
âanytime.â
every step away from him feels forced.Â
julietteâs right by the door when you walk back in, fixing the displays at the front of the store.
âhowâd it go?â she says, rushing to your side. âwas i right?! do you like him?â
you frown, barely glancing at her.
âiâmâŚnot sure.â
liked by oscarpiastri_, juliette.faure, and others
ynln đĽ
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oscarpiastri_ i think i did really good making bread
ynln i think so too
juliette.faure i disagree
user6 ARE THEY DATING
lando probably
user7 WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN??
user8 is the bread oscar made up for sale or no
user9 bro đ
itâd been weeks.
weeks of oscar showing up whenever he was back in monaco, weeks of conversation that flowed as easy as breathing, weeks of getting closer and closer.
you didnât need juliette to drag you out of the kitchen whenever he showed up anymore, he didnât need to use the excuse âlando wanted moreâ, even though it was still true half the time.
on one of the rare slower days, youâd let him in the kitchen, where heâd watched you make a loaf of pain de mie. youâd tried teaching him and he hadnât understood a word, but still nodded along as if he did. louis had scowled the entire time, muttering about bad technique and waste of ingredients, and juliette had taken hundreds of pictures on her phone.
heâd been to your apartment about five times already. the first was just to help you drop off boxes of ingredients, the second was under the excuse of testing another new recipe, and the third had no reason at all.Â
on the weeks where he was off in a different country racing, youâd have live broadcasts playing in the background, filling the store with the sound of lap times and engines. as soon as he landed back in monaco, heâd be right by your side again.
âi havenât been out to lunch with you in while,â heâs leaned against the counter like always, though this time beside you and not opposite you. ânot since we first ran into each other.â
âitâs a bit late for lunch,â you answer, glancing at the time. âunless you want dinner?â
âthat could work.â
the doorbell rings, and you both glance over at the door.
âwell look who weâve got here.â
âiâm not giving you free samples, lando.â
âwhy would i ask for free samples?â lando frowns, reaching to grab multiple bags of cookies and dumping them on the counter. âhi louis!â
ânot you again,â louisâs sigh is audible from the kitchen, and lando practically pouts.
âso, whatâre we doing?â he says, taking a box of tarts from a shelf and also putting them on the counter. âdid i ruin some kind of romantic moment?â
âno.â
âare you sure? seems like it.â
you shake your head in exasperation, moving to scan the items on the counter.
âkind of glad i didnât,â lando says, pulling out his card and looking at oscar. âweâve gotta go somewhere.â
âwhat?â oscar answers. âwhere?â
âstrictly confidential.â
âwhat?â
âracing business,â lando shrugs, scooping up everything into his arms. âletâs go.â
âyou couldnât have texted me?â
âi knew you were hereâplus i need a restock on all this.â
oscar glances at you, and you smile.Â
âgo,â you say, gently nudging him towards lando. âiâll text you later about those dinner plans.â
âdinner plans?â lando repeats, a grin making it's way onto his face as him and oscar start walking towards the door. "knew i walked into something."
you hear oscar mutter a 'shut up, mate', and as the doorbell rings again, he looks back at you. the silence that fills the space is immediate, and you hate the fact you already miss him so much.
âyouâve gotta wait for the water to boil.â
âitâs already boiled.â
âi just turned the stove on.â
youâre standing in your kitchen, arms crossed as you watch the pot of water.Â
âi feel useless.â
âyouâre not useless,â oscar says, smiling as he opens up your fridge. âdo you only have milk, eggs, sugar and flour in your kitchen?â
âiâve got wine.â
âthatâs not an ingredient.â
âsometimes it is.â
he shuts your fridge again, moving to stand beside you.
âsee? now itâs boiling,â he points to the water. âyou know how to cook pasta, right?â
âclearly not,â you mutter, grabbing the pack of fettuccine. âi could probably make this though. the fettuccine.â
âitâs already made for a reason.â
âi could make it better.â
âi know you could,â he opens the pack, handing it back to you. âbut weâre cooking, not baking, remember?â
you sigh, watching him grab ingredients from a plastic bag and setting them onto a chopping board.Â
âthis is unfair.â
âhow?â he says, rolling up his sleeves. âunfair because itâs not you doing everything anymore?â
âexactly. iâm not used to doing nothing,â you complain. âit doesnât feel right. i should be stirring something, or checking up on something. my hands are literally itching to do something but i canât because i have no clue how to cookâthis is torture.â
âyeah?â
âif louis were here heâd be just like me. actually no, i think heâd be good at cooking. heâs like experienced in everythingâdid you know he speaks italian too? on top of english and french. i think it might be my lifelong dream to be as skilled as him.â
âmhm.â
âheâs lived like twenty different lives too. he waved the checkered flag once in monaco, did you know that? schuâŚwhat was his name?â
âschumacher?â
âyes, him. he won that race. louis brings this kinda thing up every now and then. i wouldnât be surprised if he reveals heâs raced or something before,â you glance over at the pot, âcan i put the fettuccine in?â
oscar pauses, eyebrows raising, âhave you not?â
âyou never told me to!â you say defensively, scrambling to dump the pasta in the water. âyou need to specify. iâm not a mind reader.â
âi just assumed,â he says, clearly amused. âitâs fine. it wonât make a difference.â
ânow what do i do?â
he moves his attention back onto the chopping board.Â
âkeep talking,â is all he says. âiâm listening.â
you end up sitting up on the counter, lazily watching him cook while you tell him about anything and everything that crosses your mind. he looks at you every now and then, with that same smile youâd started noticing more than you shouldâve.Â
âi feel bad,â you say, the pasta halfway finished on your plate. it was good, better than good, and youâd already told him about twenty times. âi did absolutely nothing.â
ânah,â he frowns, sitting opposite you. âyou kept me company. itâs like listening to music while baking, except itâs just you.â
âare you comparing my voice to music?â
âsure,â he says, like its the most casual thing in the world.âyâknow. 15 year old me would be shocked at the fact oscar piastri is sitting in my apartment, eating dinner with me,â you mutter, scooping up more of the fettuccine and bringing it to your lips.
âhonestly? me too.â
âyou were soâŚclosed off back then.â
âsays you.â
âi wasnât closed off!â you argue. âyou just never approached me.â
âhow was i supposed to approach you?â
âmaybe by coming up to me during one of the millions of family dinners we had.â
âyou were so reserved. that was practically impossible.â
you put your fork down, fully turning to him. itâs only then you realise heâs already staring.Â
blush creeps onto your face, the same one youâd usually blame on the weather or the constant warmth of the ovens in the bakery, but youâre not blaming it on anything but him now.Â
he notices. you watch him notice, you watch the amusement on his features turn into something else. something you canât place. thereâs faint sweat on his neck from cooking, his hair is messy in the perfect way. his shirt hugs him just right, and before you know it, youâre subconsciously leaning the slightest bit closer to him.
it hits you then.
âoscar,â you say, though youâre not sure why.Â
he lets out a hum in response, mindlessly, like a reflex.Â
you want to kiss him. you want to move even closer, you want his hands around your waist again, you want the familiar warmth of him.Â
before you can give in, you move back, clearing your throat and shifting on your chair.Â
âi wasnât reserved. i was cautiousâyou were intimidating, yâknow? really intimidating,â you avoid looking at him, picking up your fork, even though you had no intention of eating. âdid i seriously seem closed off to you? sorry about that, really, really sorryââ
you sense him move before you look at him.Â
his hand reaches for yours, tugging you towards him.Â
âshut up for a second,â he mutters, and then heâs kissing you. the sound of your fork falling against the plate is loud, sudden, but neither of you pull away. your hands are moving up to his hair, and his fingers are tightening around your wrist, pulling you closer.
itâs soft, slow, perfect in every way imaginable. heâs almost hesitant, like heâs giving you the option to move away, but you donât.Â
neither of you do.
you pull away after what feels like a lifetime. his hair is messier now, your face feels like itâs burning, and your heart is pounding against your chest.
âyou kissed me,â you state, blinking, practically dazed.Â
he nods, slowly, like heâs partially stunned too, âand you kissed me back.â
â...huh,â you scoff, quietly.Â
he doesnât move when you lean forward again.Â
he doesnât move when you stand, body pressed against his, until he presses you against the counter, hands traveling up your waist like they were meant to be there. you feel him smile against you, the same smile youâd seen countless times over the span of a month.Â
when you break apart again, breathless, filled with so many emotions at once, he laughs, forehead falling onto your shoulder. you stay there, hands still in his hair, the warmth of him pressing into your skin.
it doesnât feel anything other than right.
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ynln eighty-one
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oscarpiastri â¤ď¸
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lando rare post without any form of bread in it
ynln lol i hate you
user10 OMG I KNEW IT
user11 this is the cutest thing ever
user12 mclaren x yn collab confirmed
liked by creator
juliette.faure what did i say!!!
ynln LMAO
liked by ynln, lando, and others
oscarpiastri i now know how to bake
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lando did you two swap instagrams or something
user13 pls this is so cute
user14 AWH no wonder he's been to this bakery 24/7 lately
ynln love you â¤ď¸
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Content: angst, reader is being cheated on (not by Bucky), Iâm not from NYC so if the directions donât make sense I used Google maps and a dream, hurt/comfort, a bit of fluff
Synopsis: Bucky notices the same man ordering two bouquets from his floral shop each month and sets out to let you know the truth.
A/N: written for @buckybarnes82 / this idea has been in my notes for a while. I hope you like it!
Main Masterlist | Bucky Masterlist
âââ
Bucky opens up the online order page to yet another order from the same name - always two bouquets of two dozen red roses wrapped in craft paper and tied with twine. The only divergence every month is what the man requests to be written on the notecards with the flowers.
Today, he requested card number one to say: To my wife, you are the heart of our home and the light of my life. With love, Your Husband. Card number twoâs request: To my best girl, you keep me young and alive. Thank you for being mine. Iâll see you this weekend, Your Man.
Buckyâs Blooms prides itself on its customer service, fresh floral arrangements, and client privacy, but damn, if this particular client isnât getting under Buckyâs skin with his orders. Besides the fact that the man is clearly cheating on his wife and some other woman, he doesnât tip Buckyâs delivery driver, Joaquin, when he orders the flowers.
âIâm not driving up to Tribeca and then all the way to Forest Park with no tip again, man,â Joaquin grumbles as he starts on the familiar bouquets. âThatâs a trek on a light traffic day.â
âItâs fine,â Bucky says. âWhy donât you man the shop for a bit? Iâll make these deliveries. Besides, I need to stop in Bushwick for more craft paper and some other supplies.â
âNo, Iâm sorry, sir. Iâll go. I apologize for complaining,â the young man says.
âReally, Joaquin, itâs fine,â Bucky assures him. âI need some fresh air, anyway.â He finishes the bouquets, signs off on the handwritten notes with Your Husband and Your Man while trying not to let a shiver run down his spine at the two-timer, and heads out to the delivery van. âBe back in a couple hours,â he says as the shop door shuts behind him.
The drive up from Brooklyn to Tribeca isnât far, but can take a while with traffic, so Bucky turns on the radio to tune out the noise in his head. Itâs not his first time seeing something suspicious like this in the floral business. He's had to write his fair share of questionable notecards, but the fact that this particular client is so smug as to order the bouquets under his real name (yes, Bucky looked him up) on the same day every month, and even have the notecards spell out the situation for him is brazen and stupid and downright awful. He decides right then and there to tell the women about the situation, client privacy be damned.
The âwifeâ isnât home when he delivers the bouquet, so he leaves it with the doorman and makes the trip back down to Queens. Itâs a nice enough neighborhood, but clearly very different from where the man lives with his wife in Manhattan, and Bucky wonders how they met. Theyâre clearly from two very different social circles. He double checks the address on the GPS as he looks out the van window at what appears to be a bakery. The address matches, so he shrugs and grabs the bouquet.
As he walks through the bakery doors, heâs hit with the scent of cinnamon and sugar. Itâs strong, and reminds him of something his mom used to bake years and years ago.
A head pop ups from behind the counter with a wave. âWelcome in! Let me know if you have questions- oh,â you trail off as you notice the flowers in the manâs arms. âAre those for me?â
Bucky steps up to the counter and eyes your nametag before nodding. Youâre beautiful. âLooks like it,â he mutters as he hands the bouquet to you across the counter. The bakery is quiet and empty, and Bucky clears his throat. âI, uh- I own the shop,â he says, nodding to the flowers. âMy assistant usually delivers them, but, uh- itâs me today.â Why is he rambling?
âWell, thank you. They are beautiful as always,â you say, closing your eyes as you breathe in the roses. Your eyes flutter open and Bucky thinks his heart stops. Youâre something else, and he almost completely forgets what he came here to tell you.
âWhat is that smell? Itâs so familiar, likeâŚâ he searches the recesses of his spotty memory for something nearly gone.
âItâs cinnamon coffee cake,â you say. âFresh out of the oven.â
âCoffee cake,â Bucky says with a nod and a solemn smile, remembering how his mom used to bake that for special occasions. Sometimes there was no cinnamon, but it was better when there was.
âWould you like a slice?â You ask, setting the bouquet on the counter. âItâs still quite hot, though.â
âI- Iâd love one. Thank you,â he says, pulling out his wallet to pay.
You wave at him to put it away. âOn the house,â you say. âI know the drive out here is far from your shop.â
âYeah, but thatâs okay. Itâs nice to get out of the store sometimes,â he says as you put a steaming slice of the cake in front of him on a Robinâs egg blue plate. âWow, well, thank you.â Bucky makes a mental note to put something in the tip jar by the register before he leaves.
âIâm going to get a vase for these,â you say as you walk to the back of the bakery. Bucky blows on a piece of cake before taking a bite. Itâs perfect - better than his momâs was, actually. You come back with a milky white vase covered in a strawberry print and put the roses inside, fan them out, and set them on the counter. âBeautiful.â
âDo you want anything for the road?â You ask, nodding toward the glass case of baked goods.
âActually, I need to tell you something,â he says, wringing his hands together nervously. âAnd I know I shouldnât from a legal and business standpoint, but I canât in good conscience keep deliverinâ those bouquets to you and not say something. You seem like a sweet person. You deserve to know.â
Your stomach plummets and your heart starts to race. Echoes of your mom and sister and friends saying things like âtoo good to be trueâ and âheâs probably marriedâ play through your head like a film reel.
Bucky senses your anxiety and clears his throat, rethinking if he (a complete and total stranger) should tell you this awful news or not.
âJust tell meâ you mutter, gripping the edge of the counter for moral and physical support. âJust say it.â
âHeâs married,â Bucky says calmly, setting his fork down on his plate. His eyes search yours, which are quickly filling with tears.
You swallow down the lump in your throat. âAnd how do you know? You know for certain?â
âHe sends two bouquets every month - one to you, and one to his wife,â he says. âJoaquin usually delivers them both, but the asshole never tips. Thatâs why I came today.â
You lean back against the counter, the pit in your stomach growing by the second. He was supposed to pick you up tonight to drive up to the coast for a weekend away at his cottage. Youâve never once been to his place in the city - not once. For months. That should have been a red flag, but heâs been so charming. You ignored all the signs. And now here you are, faced with the cold, hard truth in the form of yet another bouquet of perfect roses from Your Man. âI- uh, Iâm not sure what to say,â you tell the man sitting in front of you. âThank you for telling me.â
âIâm sorry I had to,â he says solemnly.
âIâd rather know now, you know, than⌠later.â After youâve fallen deeper in love with the dickhead. You look back at the roses and shrug. âI canât get rid of them. Theyâre too beautiful. Maybe Iâll just pretend theyâre from someone else,â you say with a pained laugh.
Bucky smiles at your resilience and nods. âJust pretend theyâre my payment for this delicious coffee cake. Just merchants trading goods.â
You genuinely laugh at that and nod. âSo, youâre Bucky?â
âIâm Bucky,â he says, offering you his hand to shake. âI wish we were meeting under any other circumstance.â
You shake his hand - itâs warm and calloused. Bigger than yours. âMe too.â
âAre you going to be okay today?â He asks, putting both hands in his pockets. You now notice the glint of a prosthetic on his left and look back to his face.
âIâm going to be just fine,â you assure him.
âOkay, well,â he starts, looking back to the glass of the bakery case. âIâd love a couple biscottis for the road. Dealerâs choice.â
You smile through your sadness and walk around the counter, placing two into a paper bag for him.
âIâm paying,â he says, waving his wallet around.
âYouâre not. I owe you one,â you say, crossing your arms.
âYouâre stubborn,â he sighs, shaking his head. He pulls a twenty from his wallet and slips it into the tip jar anyway before stepping back from the counter. He knows he should say goodbye. This interaction is over, but thereâs a tug in his chest that wonât let him walk out. âMaybe Iâll see you around.â
âArenât you from Brooklyn?â You ask. The chances are slim to none that youâll ever see him again.
âYeah, but I have a feeling youâll get flowers again,â he says as his back hits the door to exit the bakery. âTake care.â
âââ
One Month Later
The bell above the bakery door chimes as youâre elbow deep in a tub of frosting. âWelcome in,â you exclaim, not looking up from the counter.
âDâyou have any coffee cake?â
Your head snaps up at the deep voice. He is standing there with a bouquet of pink lilies and a smile. âI told you youâd get flowers again.â
There was a plan. Price was sure there was a plan. He'd ask you out, take you on a few dates until you were comfortable with him, then gently ease the idea of pack dynamics to you, hopefully not scaring you away more than his pack already did after the first time they met you.
They didn't actually scare you away. No, you loved them. You adored Price, and his boys, after you got to know them, turned out to be loveable men too. Not to mention it was nice having company every day. They'd come in, sometimes all of them, sometimes separately, but there's always one of them around at least most of he day; they taste tested new ideas you had, bought pastries, helped with clients sometimes, scared away any creeps, it was honestly the best thing you could ask for: four handsome, fun and caring men, and they weren't exactly bad on the eyes either.
But the plan Price had was destroyed right in front of him as he watched Gaz walk in with the most smug look that man can manage. He had gone to the bakery while the others did their usual chores and what-non. Price immediately knew something was off, eyes zeroing on the glossy lip mark on Gaz's cheek, your gloss.
"Asked the pretty bird on a date. Couldn't help myself captain. They were all sweet talking about missing a night out. Can't blame me for making a move when y' didn't do it before"
He countered. Price couldn't really argue with it, no matter how much he hated it. So he let it slide, glaring at Gaz that night when the hybrid left with a bouquet and a grin.
Then, his plan failed, agan. This time was Soap and Ghost. Ghost didn't even say anything in his defense, while Soap smirked.
"Bonnie liked the idea of date with us. Cannae blame us, cap'"
And there they go, leaving together to see you. And once again, Price is left glaring at the front door. Even worse when they come back that night and slip into their spaces in bed, still smelling of your perfume.
The next time Price went to the bakery, he was pissed. He was sure you'd hate how pissy he was being, he couldn't help it! He was supposed to be the one taking you on dates, you were his, for god's sake. But the moment he walked in and saw you humming, wearing a new silver heart locket around your neck and a bracelet with four little beads â one of each of the boy's eye color, including his stomy blue â and with that loving smile on your face, he melted.
He even forgot he hadn't made real advances on you, just immediately whining and rumbling out in distress as he crossed the bakery over to you. Pushing you back until you were against the counter, then pouting and sticking his face against the side of your neck, huffing.
"Those moppets got t'ya before I could"
he grumbles, and you laugh, because they had already explained the whole pack dynamic to you, and let you think over the idea on your time. You really should've known the handsome wolf captain wasn't coming in daily whenever he was on leave just for the croissants.
"Yeah, they did" you hum, patting him and holding in your laugh as you see his tail wag behind him. "You should've asked me out before, if you didn't want it to happen like it did"
He grumbles loudly, annoyed that you're talking like the others, despite the terribly happy turn his stomach does at hearing the way you're already so close to his pack.
"Tonight. Dress up nice, 'm taking y'out"
he huffs, and you nod, grinning. He eventually pulls back enough to pout at you, frowning and angry, but he looks honestly adorable. His eyes glance over you in your work apron and he puts you on top of the counter like you weight nothing, looking soft suddenly.
"They didn't scare y' away, yeah?"
He mumbles, looking worried, like you really would be scared off. Which granted mot people would probably be overwhelmed by the thought of dating a whole task force of men. Price didn't want to think about not having you in his pack, it made him go crazy inside.
You shake your head, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Just a brush of your lips against his, but it has him sighing and humming.
"No. But you better make up for not asking me out earlier"
You whisper to him before hopping off the counter and moving inside the kitchen, moments later a few clients walk in and Price takes it as his sign to leave you for now. He had a hell of a date to prepare.
Thinking about domestic reader who likes baking and how that will absolutely conquer Ghost's strict military discipline resolve (I'm reader) (I stuff chocolate chunks in brownies) (and put a shit ton of cinnamon in any cinnamon recipe)
Banger ask omg
I'm thinking like after retirement, Ghost isn't trusted to live on his own due to suicidal tendencies and such and gets connected with caretaker Reader.
At first, Ghost is obviously appalled and resistant to the idea that he even needs a caretaker. He's not some teenager who has to keep the door open all the time. Doesn't matter though, as Reader takes the time to order installments in his shower, stairs, etc for his injuries/old age.
He's rude and hissy towards Reader, insulting and taking out his own helplessness on the only person trying to help. There are many times Reader considers just leaving and giving up the job to someone else, but who else would deal with a snappy old man?
So Reader takes the time to make him food, fluffing, kneading, rolling, cutting, baking, all of it whilst Ghost steals glances at whatever delicious disgusting dish is being made this time.
He turns up his nose the first time a cookie is placed on the side of his sectioned plate, looking up at Reader with a glare.
"What is this."
"Chocolate chip cookie! Made it extra sweet for you."
He glared at you, opens his mouth to retort before you shove a spoonful of curry in his mouth with that sickeningly sweet smile. Reluctantly, he eats your food, eyeing the cookie the entire time like it personally insulted him.
He was is a military operator! He doesn't have the time for sweet treats, food is just nutrition. All these.. lovely seasonings are unnecessary for his palate! He is certain he appreciates despises you with everything he has.
Eventually, once his plate is fully cleaned, you hold the cookie up to his mouth, beckoning him to at least take a bite.
"I'm happy you ate everything! Here, as a reward."
"I'm not a bloody dog, I don't need a fucking re-"
The softness of the cookie melts in his mouth, the sweet sugar and melted chocolate chips are delicious. He does well to steel his expression, but you can see that almost childlike light-up in his eyes as he eats. He swallows slowly and clicks his tongue before asking for another bite.
Summary: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x fe!Reader -> After Natasha presents you with an idea on how to save your family business and legacy, you start to realise maybe marrying Jake Seresin wasn't such a bad idea after all.
Disclaimer: Mostly domestic/wedding fluff, frenemies to lovers, marriage of convenience, reader has to be married in order to inherit her bakery, one bed trope, bit of a slow burn, slow 90s country ballads, mutual pining, he falls first.
âRemind me again why Iâm doing this?â
Jake stood behind you, holding your shoulders steady. âBecause you love me.â
You paused a little before saying, âThat doesnât sound like me.â
Jake shrugged. âBecause you donât have any other option.â
âAre you sure?â
Jake nodded as he rounded you and stood beside you. The wooden doors seemed to be getting taller. Was that even possible?
âYep,â Jake told you. âI was there, remember? A total of a gazillion hours and this is your only suitable option.â
You groaned a little, popping your knee back and forth wishing a hole would just open up beneath you and swallow you whole.Â
âI hate this.â
You could hear the smile growing on Jakeâs face. He was enjoying your pain way too much. Looking at him, you watched as he just shrugged.Â
âItâll be fun.â
With a loud creak, the doors in front of you both opened wide and the classic wedding march started playing.Â
If someone had told you three years ago that the one guy on Bradleyâs team â the one guy you rarely were able to hold a conversation with, without it turning into a fight â would be the one guy who would step up and come to your rescue in your hour of needâŚyou wouldnât have believed them.Â
Jake Seresin wasnât even the last person on the list of potential suitors to be your husband. Because he wasnât on the list, full stop.Â
Until a gazillion hours ago when Natasha, after suspiciously looking between you and Jake who had maintained your usual ten feet distance from one another, gave an extra idea to help save your ass. As well as your business, home and family legacy.Â
Apparently, when your Great-Aunt didnât have any kids, nor did she get married, thought it was best to leave a stipulation in her will.Â
In order to inherit the family business â the one you had been running for her since she retired â and the house â the one that the original bakery was built into â you had to be married.Â
So, with the fear of losing everything youâd worked at for the last dozen years of your life â on your own, at least â you found yourself agreeing to the last thing you thought you would ever do.Â
Marry Jake Seresin.Â
With a quick exchange of vows, a swift (if a little awkward) kiss and papers being signed, you found yourself no longer carrying the same name as your Great Aunt, but rather Jakeâs.Â
âOkay, so,â Natasha started as she pushed you and your husband towards the covered doors of The Hard Deck. âWe all kinda know this wedding is a sham, but that doesnât mean it should be treated like one. And since this is our rare collective week off, we couldnât let the opportunity go. So, welcome to your Reception. And yes, there will be a first dance.â
âNat!â
Natasha just smiled and pushed you through the doors as Bob and Coyote held them open.Â
âHoly shit,â Jake said, a little taken aback.Â
âYou can say that again.â
âHoly shit,â he repeated.Â
You just looked at him, but only for a second since Bob opened up his mouth with a chuckle.Â
âCute. Their first married couple moment.â
Nat smiled as she pushed you both further inside. Theyâd gone all out. Wedding banners, childhood photos, a decorative dancefloor, a stacked bar, a wedding cake from your bakery, a DJâŚit would take you at least six hours to take it all in.Â
Then people started arriving.Â
Your family, Jakeâs family, the rest of the Dagger Squad, a couple of locals that had paid Penny a lot of money to be able to see the last two people they ever thought would get married do exactly that.Â
Penny laughed as she took their money, saying sheâll set up a trust fund for your first born child.Â
âDoes your family know?â Jake asked you, quietly, as you looped your arm through his.Â
You shook your head. âNo. Do yours?â
Jake shook his head. âNo. What did you tell your folks?â
âAs far as they knew, my Great Aunt was leaving everything to me anyway. They have their own legacies they wanted to create, so they were happy for me. They didnât know about the stipulation.â
Jake gave you a slightly confused look. âOkay, so what did you tell them about me?â
âWell,â you didnât know why you were nervous admitting something like this to Jake. Especially considering the amount of times you hadnât thought twice about telling him to fuck off to his face. âIâm not really open with my love life. I told them Iâd been seeing someone for almost a year and that I was getting married. TheyâŚthey were shocked. Very shocked. ButâŚhappy. Why, what did you tell your folks?â
âThatâŚâ Jake hesitated for a moment before looking back at you. Jesus, it was like his gaze bore into your soul as he spoke. âThat Iâd met this really great girl and that I was marrying her.â
âThatâs it?â
Jake nodded. âThatâs it.â
âNothing else? No time line? Or stipulation? Nothing?â
Jake shook his head. âFigured Iâd leave that up to you. Whatever you decide, Iâll back you.â
You took a breath before nodding. âOkay. Okay.â
âOkay.â
âOkay.â
âOkay.â You jumped as Bradley appeared beside you both. âThe DJ is ready when you are. Mav had the mic so heâs gonna introduce you.â
âIntoduce us? For what?â You asked, but Bradley just smiled.Â
âYour first dance.â
As if on cue, Mavâs voice rang out of the speakers before a spotlight moved around from the ceiling until it landed on both you and Jake.Â
âOkay, can I get a big welcome for Mr and Mrs Seresin!â
Mrs Seresin.Â
You were a Mrs.Â
You were a Seresin.
âJake.â
Seeing your panic, Jake simply took your hand and enveloped it in his before leading you towards the middle of the dancefloor as Mavâs voice continued talking over the speakers.Â
âI-I donât-I donât know how to dance,â you quickly told him. âGod, what song are they gonna play?â
âNatasha seems to have done a lot of this, so it shouldnât be too bad. And, hey.â You looked at Jake as he took you in his arms as if it was second nature. âJust focus on me. Trust me. I wonât let you fall.â
âPromise?â
Jake smiled with a small nod as Mav announced the first dance. âI promise. Just trust me, okay?â
You no longer had a voice to use so you just nodded.Â
As people sat down at booths and tables, clapping, the DJ started playing the music; A slow country ballad When I Said I Do by Clint Black.Â
And, slowly swaying in the middle of the floor for the first half of the song, you tried not to concentrate too hard on the lyrics or the way it felt being held by Jake. After all, less than a month ago, youâd been having an argument in this very bar about being stuck on the same team for a game of pool.Â
But, somewhere between the melody and the strangely comforting feeling of Jakeâs palm resting against your back, you relaxed into him and felt yourself get lost in the feeling.Â
Only for a moment.Â
Because the moment the song faded away, Mavâs voice was whooping back over the speakers and congratulating both yourself and Jake.Â
What followed, despite your internal warning alarm blaring for you to run away and hide for the rest of eternity, was the seven most heart-warming and heart-breaking hours of your life.Â
Your family blended so well with Jakeâs. His mom and dad loved you, saying as much more than once. And just as much as they were happy to finally have someone to call their daughter, your family was ecstatic over having someone to call their son.Â
Unbeknownst to them, however, it was all fake.Â
The moment the twelve month stipulation was over, you and Jake would be filing for divorce immediately. Obviously, the twelve months would be a lot shorter if the circumstances were different around the kind of man youâd chosen to marry.Â
But Jake wasnât like that.Â
For as much as you never got along with him, there wasnât a doubt in your mind that he wouldnât hurt you. Never intentionally, at least.Â
Annoyance, on the other hand? You and him competed with each other as if it was a goddamn sport.Â
Finally, as the night drew to a close (at least for you and Jake), people whooped and whistled as Jake helped you into the car Penny had hired to drive you both back home.Â
Supposedly the home you and Jake were meant to be living in together.Â
So far, he had one box inside your home.Â
âWhat time do you need to be up?â Jake asked you as you both walked up the back stairs of your bakery/home.Â
âAround four.â
âEven after our wedding?â
âItâs not like weâre having an actual wedding night. I plan on digging out my comfiest pajamas and falling straight to sleep.â
Jake smiled, locking your front door as you walked inside ahead of him. âSo, uh, I have something to ask you?â
âConsidering you willingly married me to save basically my entire life, I donât think I can say no.â
Jake chuckled. âI appreciate that, but like I said earlier, you donât have to thank me. And, you might want to say no to this.â
Popping your head back around the corner from the short hallway to your bedroom, you looked at Jake. âOh, no.â
Still in his suit, if he did look a little worn out from the day. Even more so as he ran a nervous hand through his hair.Â
âMy folksâŚthey want to get to know you better. They asked if they could come and spend the day with us before we go on our honeymoon.â
âWeâre having a honeymoon?â
Jake shrugged. âThey think we are. I just didnât tell them any different.â
âWellâŚâ You paused for a moment. âI-I donât really know what to do. Iâve never been a daughter-in-law before.â
âI could invite them to the bakery. Theyâd get to see you in action. Maybe find out more about you.â
You grimaced a little. âHow badly do you think itâs gonna bite me in the ass when we get divorced in a year?â
Jake felt a little dejected but recovered quickly enough. âNot too much.â
âThenâŚokay.â
âOkay?â
You nodded. âOkay. But, shit, which day?â
âThey said Tuesday.â
Today was Friday.Â
You nodded and Jake could already see the cogs turning in your head. âOkay. So, we get your stuff moved in here over the weekendâŚmaybe Natasha will have pictures.â
âPictures?â Jake asked, following you as you moved throughout your apartment.Â
In your bedroom you found a notepad and pen and started making a list as you ducked in and out of each room.Â
âWe need to make it believable, right? The lawyer just checked the legality of our marriage but my Aunt was thorough. And, I suspect, so will her lawyer. Heâll probably interview our families to see if they actually witnessed us getting married.â
Jake chuckled, catching you in the middle of the hallway. âOkay, we can worry about this tomorrow. Right now, we both need sleep. Decent sleep. Not pre-fake-wedding jitters sleep.â
âYou couldnât sleep either?â
âOkay,â Jake said as she took the notepad and pen from you and laid it on the desk before he turned your shoulders and pushed you towards your bathroom. âGet dressed, Iâm gonna find some extra blankets and-â
âYou can stay in my room,â you said quickly. âWith me. Weâve both had shitty sleep and thereâs no point in you sleeping on the sofa. I doubt youâll have a comfortable sleep and, well, I owe you. Big time.â
Jake shook his head. âYou donât owe me anything. But if the offer stands, then Iâll accept. Your bed does look comfortable."
With a firm nod you agreed before shutting the door to get dressed.Â
Despite the initial awkwardness of sleeping in the same bed as your new frenemie/husband, the tiredness took over pretty quickly. The next thing you knew, your body clock went off with your alarm and you were tiredly pulling yourself from your bed.Â
After a quick shower and throwing on the most presentable and comfiest clothes you owned, you made your way downstairs, through the storage units of the bakery and landed inside the kitchen.Â
With your headphones on, you started working.Â
Cookies, brownies, cakes, flapjacks â all done in huge batches of different flavours. Your Great-Aunt had started a chain of bakeries and, although youâd try to visit the most local ones as often as you could, working in the original establishment kept you pretty busy.Â
Beside the sweet treats, lunch was also served. As well as a lot of savoury pieces which, due to the lack of sleep before your wedding you had prepped already.Â
Just as your wedding came back into your head, so did everything that happened afterwards. The quiet ride home with Jake, the congratulations texts as you walked through the door which you were yet to open, the question from Jake and-Â
Jake.Â
He was still asleep when you left him. At least, you thought he was. If not, he made a damn good impression.Â
By the time your staff started entering, youâd already finished most of the morning batches.Â
âWhy the hell are you here? You should still be in bed!â Rosie told you as she spotted you in the back of the kitchen.Â
You chuckled. âIâve got a business to run. And he knew who he was marrying.â
âThat I did.â
Rosie yelped and jumped out of the way as Jake appeared behind her in the doorway, looking (you had to admit) all different kinds of handsome in the early morning light of the bakery.Â
âIâll give you two some time,â Rosie smiled before taking her leave to set up the register and seating area.Â
âSleep well?â
Jake nodded. âBetter than I have done in a while. You know, you could have stayed in bed longer.â
âI needed to do all of this.â
âAnd weâre also meant to be marketing our new found wedded-bliss.â
âGod, youâre really taking this seriously.â
Jake shrugged with a happy but tired smile. âLike I said, it can be fun.â
âWell, my dear husband, fun will have to wait. Iâve already got orders coming in.â
âWant some help?â
Although you would have usually bitten his head off for asking, telling him it was fine and you would sort it, the ache and tiredness started to take over your body.Â
Maybe you should have taken a day off.Â
âSure. Go and help Rosie in the front.â
What followed were the oddest three hours of your life; Jake felt like he was your friend and not some guy that drove you insane. Penny stopped by to drop off the wedding photos sheâd gotten a rush order on just as your Great Auntâs lawyer waltzed through the front door.Â
You were sweating buckets as his eyes remained on you and Jake for the duration of his stay. He looked through your wedding photos with Jake â you prayed he was just as good of an actor as he was with you when he was swaying with you on the dancefloor.Â
When you finally got a few minutes to take a break, you signed the official ownership documents to your entire world; your home, the bakery, the legacy left by your Great Aunt.Â
And as Rosie locked up the bakery, you and Jake started shifting things from his home and into yours. Enough, at least, to make it seem natural that he lived with you.Â
During which you both discussed what Jake would be doing with his place whilst he was living with you. Since he owned his property, he could rent it out. It seemed like the most logical plan. And, it wouldnât look as suspicious to the lawyer that promised heâd come and visit the bakery more often â even if it was just for his favourite cookies in all of San Diego.Â
All in all, the first few months of âmarriedâ life ran smoother than you had expected.Â
Jakeâs parents came to visit when they could. They got to know you more, but it almost broke something in you when his mom started talking about how you had a forever home in the Seresinâs.Â
Oddly, you and Jake found a nice friendship despite how youâd both come to know each other just over three years ago. At the time, youâd only known Bradley and Natasha.Â
Youâd known them for years, but never once had you met âHangmanâ. The personal bane to Bradleyâs life. And the moment you met him, you could see why. Which was how he became the bane of your existence.Â
Until the day he agreed with Natasha that marrying you didnât seem like such a bad idea. Youâd get to secure your entire life, and you didnât have to jump into anything with someone you didnât know. He was also single and, since the last couple of dates heâd been on had resulted in him wishing heâd stuck to staying away from the dating apps, he was willing to stick up for you, it seemed like a good idea.Â
Everyone else was either hitched or about to be, so they were a no go. There was no loophole. It was Jake or lose everything.Â
And, even though you hadnât expected it, marrying Jake was one of the best decisions youâd ever agreed to. Aside from the fact your Great Aunt believed you needed someone by your side as you ran your life (despite having done it all on your own for the last twelve years), Jake had become an actual friend.Â
Someone who you couldnât wait to see at the end of the day. Someone you could share the quiet moments with. Someone who, despite knowing you didnât share much, often didnât have to ask.Â
You didnât know how he knew. But somehow, Jake seemed to know you better than you knew yourself some days.Â
But that only became a problem ten months into your fake marriage.Â
After months of friendship, apologies for judging each other the way you did in the beginning and late nights of talking about anything and everything, you started to realise you were catching feelings.Â
You wanted to say they were the last thing you expected to catch when around Jake Seresin all the live long day, but youâŚcouldnât. Not after the last ten months.Â
Surprisingly, he was easy to open up to. And to let in.Â
Despite the act he put on around his co-workers â although, you doubted it was all an act â Jake was a lot softer and calmer underneath his fighter pilot exterior.Â
It probably didnât help your case that you were also starting to enjoy calling him your husband. A small part of you always figured youâd end up just like your Aunt. Not lonely, per se. But definitely alone.Â
Maybe a dog or two.Â
Your work life kept you pretty busy. And even when you werenât working, you were thinking of work. New recipes, new designs, expansions, updates, staff rotas, ingredients shipping, storage space, health and safety. The list seemed to never end.Â
But Jake seemed to get it.Â
Granted, the marriage was still fake. And so was your relationship. ButâŚ
Each time the doubt creeped in and you tried to set the reality for yourself that the only reason it was working out with Jake was because you werenât really married, Jake would do or say something that made you yearn that it was all real.Â
âI know youâve only been married less than a year,â your mom said as she poured everyone a glass of lemonade each. âBut-â
âWe wanna know when youâre gonna start having our grandbabies,â Jakeâs mom cut in.Â
Apparently since your wedding, your parents had exchanged numbers and became practically attached at the hip.Â
âMom!â Jake scolded just as you did the same with your own mom.Â
They both just looked at each other and smiled. âWhat?â
Looking at Jake, he seemed to be holding a similar expression to you. Shock. Maybe a little humor.Â
It was nice to see your parents getting along. Even if your marriage was a sham, their friendship didnât have to be.Â
âMom, can we please not? Just for today?â You asked, covering your face as you leaned in closer on the picnic bench.Â
It didnât do much in the way of helping you escape from the comfortable hold Jake had with his arm wrapped around you. But part of you was relieved when he shuffled closer to you, his thumb absentmindedly brushing your side.Â
âMom,â Jake looked at his own mother. âItâs still early days, okay?â
Both your moms seemed to be more than a little dejected. âWe know, honey. ButâŚtime flies by when youâre married.â
âMom,â Jake warned again.Â
âSheâs right, honey,â your mom said to you. âTimeâs a-tickinââ
âMom!âÂ
âRelax, sweetie,â you dad said as he came back out from the house, closing his book and laying his reading glasses inside his pocket shirt. âYour momâs ran out of things to make for her bookclub and someone told her baby clothes would be a good idea.â
âSweetheart,â Jakeâs dad said to his wife. âLeave the kids alone. Theyâll have kids when theyâre good and ready.â
âThank you, dad.âÂ
âOh, hush, you,â Jakeâs mom said as her husband sat down beside her. âYouâre just as bad. Heâs so ready to be a granddaddy.â
You tried to keep the fear inside you as best as you could despite the small laugh that left you.Â
As your parents leapt into discussing what your future children would look like before diverting off into stories from when you were kids, you took the small escape into the house.Â
Only when he knew it was safe to do so â the moment both of your parents forgot you were both sitting right in front of them â did Jake make his escape, too.Â
He walked around slowly, taking everything in.Â
Since the businesses kept your family busy, and Jakeâs family had their own lives back in Texas, your parents had come up with the idea of monthly dinners.Â
The weather was starting to turn colder as the summer drew to a close and Fall fully took hold, so he hadnât spent much time inside your childhood home.Â
The walls were littered with different pictures, all of you at different ages. Some were from your family vacations, your graduation, your parents life together as a married couple, friends and extended family.Â
Looking around, the furniture was worn but loved. It was almost like each creak of the floorboards, or scar on the sofa held a little story you were yet to tell him.Â
They usually came late at night when you were too tired to keep your walls up. Those were some of Jakeâs favourite moments with you.Â
âHey,â Jake found you in the kitchen.Â
âHey,â you managed to smile back. âSorry for leaving you.â
Jake just shook his head. âDonât worry about it. Sorry about my folks.â
âIâm sorry about mine, too.âÂ
âGuess they really love that their only children got married.â
You chuckled. âYeah, I guess so.â
âAre you okay?â
âIâm fine.â
Pushing himself from the doorframe, Jake walked over to you. âI know this marriage didnât have its most conventional start, but we did swear vows together.â
You took a breath as you wrapped your arms around your just a little tighter. But with Jakeâs hands running up and down the top of your arms, you let out a sigh.Â
âTalk to me,â he said, softly. âWhatâs going on?â
âItâs nothing, really.â
âY/n.â
Looking at him, it struck you hard in your chest that you couldnât lie to him. You didnât want to lie to him.Â
âOkay,â your voice broke, quietly. âItâs justâŚbetween our families, our friends andâŚus, I guess. Itâs justâŚsometimes this feels tooâŚâ You let out another sigh and lowered your voice. âJake, weâre meant to be getting divorced in two months.â
Jake felt his heart take another punch. âI know.â
âAnd it's justâŚall of itâŚâ You shook your head. âI donât know. I donât know.â
âCâmere,â Jake pulled you into him, and it didnât take you a second thought to wrap your arms around him and hold him just a little tighter.Â
âI know this feels like a lot right now,â he told you. âBut weâll get through it. Together.â
You swallowed a little before nodding and curling into him.Â
A few hours later, good food had been eaten and good conversation had been shared. And, just as the stars settled over the sky and you and Jake should have been in bed, you were standing on the back porch of your home listening to the light whistle of the wind.
You didnât jump as Jakeâs hand settled across your back or winded around to your front. Instead, you relaxed into his chest as he held you gently against him.Â
âJake,â you said, his name leaving your lips like a whisper into the wind.Â
âYou feel it too?â He asked you, his lips by the shell of your ear. You closed your eyes. âThatâs why youâre out here?â
âTwo more months, Jake,â you told him. âItâs just meant to be two more months.â
âIt doesnât have to be.â
âJake.â
âI know you feel it, too. And I know that youâre scared. But you donât have to be. We can take it as slow as you want.â
âWeâre already married,â you pointed out. âAnd sleep in the same bed. And live in the same house.â
âSo, we take it slower.â
âJake-â
âI want you in my life, Y/n.â Jake told you as you turned around to face him. âI want you as my wife, too. I know we didnât come together in the most conventional way, and weâre probably the last two people on this planet that expected to be what we are but I think we were brought together for a reason.â
âBecause it was Natashaâs idea.â
Jake chuckled. âThat too. Maybe we skipped the first couple of steps, but, you know, conventional can be boring.â
âJake, my track record for dates isnât great. I work too much. When Iâm not working, Iâm thinking about work-â
âYou forget Iâve been married to you for the last ten months. And Iâve known you for four years. You work hard, Y/n. And thatâs something to be proud of. And Iâm proud of you, too.â
It struck you harder than you expected, hearing that Jake was proud of you.Â
âI want to be there for you, Y/n. Through it all. The early mornings, the late nights, I want us to keep doing what weâre doing, together. I am madly in love with you. Kind of embarrassingly so.â
You chuckled a little as he held you closer to him.Â
âAnd if you wanna take this slower than a snailâs pace, or you want to start building a nursery space right now, then Iâm with you. No matter what.â
You couldnât help but smile. âWe can go a little faster than a snailâs pace.â
Fixing the hair beside your face, Jake cupped your cheek. âDoes that mean I can kiss you now?â
âYes.â
âThank God.â
In ten months, you and Jake had shared exactly three kisses. The first on the altar, which was swift but awkward. The second was during the reception photos when your parents wanted one of you and Jake sharing a kiss just outside The Hard Deck. That one had felt odd, but not bad. Almost like faking a kiss was natural. And the third had been late at night, sitting out on the porch. Youâd had a long day of dealing with extra shitty customers and Jake had been dealing with egotistical pilots that thought they were better than their several instructors.Â
Neither of you had talked or mentioned the third kiss after it had happened. But you would never forget it. It was soft, if a little nervous. Two things you hadnât expected in a kiss from Jake Seresin.Â
But this kiss; the Fourth.Â
It was like breathing a sigh of relief.Â
Finally,Â
Finally.Â
Holding onto your face as he backed you against the railing, Jake stopped to catch his breath as he leaned his forehead against your own.Â
âWait here.â
âWhere are you going?âÂ
Jake didnât say much, but he did smile at you as he flicked on the radio you kept on the window cill. The familiar melody of The Keeper of the Stars by Tracy Byrd started to dance around the back porch.Â
âWhat are you doing?â
Jake took your hand in his before he pulled you into him, both of you swaying gently to the melody. âRedoing our First Dance.â
âWhy?â
âBecause, as perfect as it was,â Jake smiled as he turned you around and pulled you back in. âThat was for show. This. This right here. This is just for us.â
You smiled as he held you closer to him. âI love you, Jake Seresin.â
With your hand still enclosed in his, Jake ran a finger down the side of your face, his gaze gently leaning into your own before he closed his eyes and leaned against you and lightly sang along to the lyrics.Â
âThere really are no words to show my gratitude. So I tip my hat to the keeper of the stars, when he joined these two hearts.â
Closing your own eyes, you let the moment capture itself in your memory. The way his arms held you, a silent promise to never let you go or let you fall. The song, the lyrics, the moment. All of it. With Jake.Â
âI hold everything when I hold you in my arms, and Iâve got all Iâll ever need, thanks to the keeper of the stars.â
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Red Hood x baker!reader || Masterlist || Request!
A/N: Based this off of my cousin because last time I visited her she baked me delicious matcha cookies and white chocolate ones! Hope you enjoy this!
Meeting
Jason finds Sugar & Sinâyour cozy, always-open bakery in the Narrowsâaround 3:30 a.m. one night when heâs too wired from patrol to sleep and too hungry to go home.
He walks in hooded, scarred hands stuffed in his pockets, orders the blackest coffee you have and the last cinnamon roll behind the glass. You hand it over with a quiet âLong night?â and a small, genuine smile. He mutters a thanks and sits in the corner booth, eating slowly while watching you roll dough under the warm kitchen lights.
He starts coming back. Night after night. Always cash, always the same booth, orders slowly escalating: pain au chocolat, lemon curd tarts, your ridiculous chocolate-hazelnut babka. He never talks much, but he lingers longer each time.
You notice the patterns: the way he winces when he reaches too high (old shoulder injury), how he always orders extra sugar when heâs had a bad patrol, the faint metallic tang of gun oil under his hoodie. You start leaving him little extrasâa warm cookie âbecause it was gonna get thrown out,â a sticky note saying âLavender shortbread tomorrow. Donât be late.â His tips turn obscene. He starts leaving single red roses (stolen from who-knows-where) tucked under the bag in return.
Finding Out
Seven weeks in, your bakery gets targeted.
Closing shift. Youâre wiping down the marble counter when the front door gets kicked openâthree guys, knives and bravado, yelling for the cash drawer.
Before you can even reach the bat, the side window shatters. Red Hood drops in like a meteorâred helmet gleaming, cape snapping, rubber bullets flying. He has them down and tied in seconds.
When the dust settles, he turns to check on you. Youâre standing there, bat half-raised, staring from the helmet⌠to the familiar roll of that left shoulder⌠back to the helmet.
âSeriously?â you deadpan, lowering the bat. âThe exact same shoulder shrug when you grab your coffee. The way you always limp in on Thursdays after patrol. And now youâre bleeding through your fancy red jacket in my kitchen.â
He goes rigid. The helmet seals pop with a hiss. Jason Todd looks back at youâhair a disaster, split lip, eyes wide like heâs been caught stealing cookies from the jar.
You sigh, grab the first-aid kit, and jerk your thumb at the prep stool. âSit down before you ruin my floor. And next time you want to flirt, just say hi like a normal person instead of stalking my bakery for two months.â
He laughsârough, startled, realâand lets you clean the cut while muttering, âThe babka really is that good, though.â
The Secret Relationship
Things shift fast but softly. He starts showing up after patrol in civilian clothesâhoodie, leather jacket, helmet stashed on his bikeâleaning on the counter while you close, asking real questions: âWhy punch down the dough?â âHow do you get the layers so even?â
You teach him to bake. Heâs impatient and heavy-handed at first, but he gets obsessive. Within weeks heâs your designated croissant folderâperfectly even, never tearing the butter packet. You ban him from the mixer after he turns a batch of royal icing into a snowstorm, but heâs weirdly talented at piping: tiny buttercream flowers, elegant script on cakes. He pretends itâs nothing.
He teaches you self-defense in the back alley at stupid oâclock. Starts gentleâwrist escapes, palm strikesâthen knives, because this is Gotham. Youâre fast; heâs proud when you flip his own blade back at him during a drill. He pins you against the wall afterward and kisses you until youâre both breathless.
Domestic bliss at 4 a.m.: him falling asleep on your couch with flour on his cheek, you using his thigh as a pillow while proofing dough. He leaves perfect plain croissants on the counter before dawn with notes like Donât overwork, sugar. You call him âjaybirdâ or âdough boy.â He calls you âtrouble,â âchef,â âmine.â
Every patrol ends at your back door. You hand him a warm bagâlabeled things like For the grumpy vigilante who denies he loves pain au chocolat or Tell your âfriendâ the ĂŠclairs are peak today. He brings them home without fail.
The Others Finding Out
Jason has been bringing home pastries from her bakery after patrols and proclaims that he has a 'friend' who baked too much and gave some
The others didn't really comment on it but were secretly curious of who this 'friend' is.
Their suspicion because Jason cancels patrol.
âBusy tonight,â he says over comms, voice clipped. âHandle the East End without me.â
The family immediately smells bullshit.
Dick: âBusy? Since when does Jason get âbusyâ?â
Tim: âHis signalâs still in the Narrows. Moving slow. Like⌠he's gonna get laid-slow.â
Steph: âWeâre following him. Right now.â
Damian: âTt. If heâs wasting time, I want proof.â
Bruce sighs but doesnât stop them. Curiosity wins.
They tail himâDick swinging rooftops, Tim on bike, Steph and Duke in a civilian car, Damian lurking in shadows. They watch Jason park his bike behind Sugar & Sin, pull off the helmet, shake out his hair, and walk in the back like he owns the place.
They creep closer. Through the window they see: Jason in a black apron (way too small on him), sleeves rolled up, standing next to you at the prep table. Youâre laughing, guiding his hands through folding doughâhis big scarred fingers surprisingly careful under yours. Heâs got flour on his nose. You lean up and kiss it off. He grins like an idiot and kisses you properlyâslow, stupidly soft.
The comms explode.
Dick (screaming whisper): âOH MY GOD HEâS DATING THE BAKERââ
Steph: âHEâS WEARING AN APRON. HEâS BAKING. IâM GONNA CRYââ
Tim: âThereâs video. I have video. This is blackmail for life.â
Damian: âDisgusting. Heâs⌠smiling. Like a normal person.â
Duke (horrified delight): âHe just called her âsugar.â I need bleach for my brain.â
Theyâre so loud Jasonâs head snaps up. He sees the silhouettes at the window, curses, and yanks the blinds downâbut itâs too late.
Back at the Cave later, everyoneâs waiting like a firing squad. Jason walks in, still dusted with flour, arms crossed, looking ready to murder.
Dick starts: âSo⌠âbusy,â huh?â
Before Jason can snarl, Alfred steps forward with a tea tray, utterly serene. âIf I may, Master Jason has been âbusyâ every Tuesday and Thursday for the past four months assisting Miss [Your Name] with her overnight bakes. The almond croissants have shown marked improvement since he mastered the retarder settings at 38°F.â
Silence. Thenâ
Dick: âALFRED KNEW?!â
Tim: âYouâve been sitting on this for MONTHSââ
Steph: âYou let us place bets?!â
Damian: âPennyworth. Treachery of the highest order.â
Alfred raises one perfect eyebrow. âI have known since the gentleman first inquired after my grandmotherâs shortbread recipe âfor a friend.â The rose-petal residue on his gloves and the persistent scent of Miss [Your Name]âs lavender hand cream were⌠rather telling. One might think a family of self-proclaimed detectives would have noticed such obvious clues.â
The screaming restartsâlouder. Jason just groans, drags a hand down his face (smearing more flour), and mutters, âIâm moving to BlĂźdhaven.â
Later he shows up at your place looking like heâs survived a war: flour still in his hair, cheeks flushed from embarrassment, carrying the worldâs saddest, most lopsided apology cake he tried to bake alone.
You laugh until you canât breathe, wipe the frosting off his jaw, kiss him stupid, and tell him Alfred gets free pastries for life.
The family never recovers. Alfred starts dropping by the bakery with polite thank-you notes on embossed cardstock. Jason pretends heâs mortified every time you tease him about it.
He still shows up every night for his bag of pastries. The âfriendâ line is retired foreverâbut the late-night baking dates? Those are sacred.
summary: Youâre a baker with some pretty freaky instincts and get pulled into a string of mysterious pet disappearances by your chaotic, but amazing, handsome, and kind detective best friend, Joseph. Which is how heâd say it. As you guys chase the truth, your long-hidden feelings finally surface, and threaten to change your partnership forever.
contains: smut (p in v, oral sex for reader, dry humping), yearning joseph?, fattie joseph, fluff, light angst
wc: 11.36k
a/n: this is my first fanfic ever and took embarrassingly long. I hope you guys enjoy, and I would love to get some constructive criticism! Enjoy :) đ¤
8:26 PM Wednesday
The bell above your bakery door rings as you put the cinnamon rolls in the fridge to sit overnight. Confused, since you clearly turned the sign over to âclosedâ, you turn and lay your eyes on Joseph. Oh great.
âYo, have any of those pistachio cinnamon rolls? Oh, and coffee.â He asks unapologetically as he enters and closes the door behind him. You start to wonder why you havenât started locking the door after closing.
You glance at him with a deadpan expression, already exhausted from the 4 PM rush today.
âNot even a âhelloâ or âhi, how are you?â Guess thatâs how it is when youâre a fat chud.â He feigns an offended expression, hand flying to his chest dramatically. âBut to answer your question, thereâs no cinnamon rolls but there is coffee.â
âFirst of all, I am no chud. Just a tired and overworked detective. Difference.â Or so he claims.
He sits at the table nearest to the counter as you begin to brew the vanilla coffee, his favorite. As the coffee brews you grab a few macarons from the display case, placing them on a plate. He glances over at you as you do. You sidelong glance at him, already knowing whatâs about to come.
âSo, whatâs the rant for today, Jojo?â I ask, walking around the counter and placing the plate in front of him.
Joseph, the oh so fattie that he is, pulls the plate closer to him and grabs two macarons, raspberry and chocolate.
âHowâd you know I was gonna rant?â
âWhen are you not?â
âTouchĂŠ.â
âWell anyway,â he starts, practically consuming the chocolate macaron whole. âI had the most annoying day today, dude!â He begins, eyes following you around as you fill up two mugs with coffee. âI was out checking out this case, the one about the missing cat, remember?â
âRemi?â You ask, recalling the little kittyâs name. You place his mug in front of him, sitting across from him. He nods, taking a sip of the coffee.
âYup. So, I went to the crazy cat ladyâs place to check it out once again. And, dude⌠I was so close to killing myself.â A small chuckle escapes from your lips. âWhy? Did she offer to give you one of those âkitty massagesâ again?â âYes, but thatâs not the point.â You raise an eyebrow, even more curious now. You nod for him to continue.
âWeâve already established that she has like ten thousand cats in that house, so we can move past that.â He adds, finishing the last of his chocolate macaron. âIâm literally sitting on her couch, kay? Asking questions as Iâd usually do, and tell me why this lady totally ignores the fact that like fifty of her cats are crawling all over me.â
You roll your eyes, expecting something more serious as you smack your teeth. âMmcht, my lobster is too juicy and buttery,â you mock his dramatics. âLike dude, who doesnât want kitties crawling all over them?â
âNobody! Not when they smell like piss all the time.â
âOh. Valid.â
He sighs before taking another sip of his coffee. âI donât know how much longer Iâm gonna have to deal with this. I mean, she probably didnât even really lose the cat. Itâs gotta be hidden among the other thousand cats she has.â When he says that, you think back to his other rants about this case.
âDidnât you say that Remi was the really freaked out cat?â He nods, thinking back on what the over sharing cat lady mentioned previously. âYeah, but awww. You remember what I tell you! You literally love me, thereâs no denying it now.â He teases, completely oblivious to the very teensy crush youâve kept hidden under everything.
Youâve been friends with Joseph ever since your freshman year in college, and have been finding him strangely more attractive and funnier than usual (cough cough, liking him but refuse to admit) ever since he had protected you from a creep a few months ago.
Your breath slightly hitches, yet completely going past his attention. Defending yourself, you blurt out quickly: âEw donât say stuff like that. Youâre nasty.â He grins, letting out a hearty laughâone that doesnât deny his exhaustion from work. âThe more you deny it, the more it becomes trueâŚâ He wiggles those beautifully thick eyebrows at you, teasing once more. You take one last sip of your coffee, ignoring his remarks as you continue.
âDoesnât the crazy cat lady have a neighbor with a male cat? And didnât she mention that Remi was always looking out the window, towards the neighbors house?â Joseph nods, placing both elbows on the tableâmore intrigued and focusing on your words.
âWell, what if Remi escaped over to that house? Considering sheâs freaked out and all. Probably wanted a baddie.â You shrug. âI mean can you really blame a girl for wanting some fun?â Josephâs brows furrow, considering that your theory might not actually be too terrible.
âWait. I swearâif youâre right all along, Iâll treat you to something.â You blink, clearly not expecting that. âYeah, like what?â
âAnything you want, I promise. I cannot deal with that lady and her cats anymore.â He groans in his hands, thinking back on the memories with her from the past two weeks. âI mean itâs only a thought, you shouldnât take it soââ Youâre cut off with a hearty sigh escaping Josephâs lips as he takes the last sip of his coffee. Joseph stands up abruptly, the chair screeching slightly against the floor.
âYouâre the smartest person Iâve ever met, dude.â Joseph walks over to your side, gripping your shoulders. âI owe you one, alright?â He winks, those fluttering long lashes brushing against his cheek as he grins.
âIâll catch ya later! Ohâand save me some of those pistachio cinnamon rolls.â He states over his shoulder as he walks to the door. He pauses at the door, gazing over your hairâeyes pausing on a cupcake clip in it. âThatâs cute. You should wear more things like that.â And just like that, he exits and waltzes off as if he didnât just leave your heart hammering like crazy.
2:17 PM, Thursday
Youâre passing a customerâs caramel apple pie slice when Joseph practically barges in as if he owns the placeâcheeky grin and all. He pushes past the line to get to you, muttering âexcuse meâsâ and apologies. You glare at him, apologizing to the customer who was about to order before he cut them off.
âJoseph, what the heck are you doing?â He ignores your glare, clearly about to start ranting. Before he can start, you cut him off with a hand to his face. âDude, if youâre going to startâat least come to this side. Youâre blocking up the line.â You state with a roll of your eyes.
âFineee, so bossy.â He relents, walking over to where you stand. You apologize for Josephsâ behavior once again when he starts ranting in a hushed tone while you work. âSo, remember what you told me yesterday?â
âWhat? That youâre a fat chud?â
âThat is not what I meant, asshole.â He rolls his eyes, but continues nonetheless. âI meant about the cat. Remember that?â You nod, handing the customer their order and receipt. âWhat about it?â
âYou were right.â
You pause slightly, taking a quick glance to his face before continuing your work. âActually? Say you swear.â He leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. âSwear, dude. Youâre literally magic.â You try to ignore how he has your neck heating up from his sweet words. âSo the cat was genuinely freaked out?â
âMhm, and pregnant.â
A surprised laugh escapes you before you quickly stifle it, attempting to act professional at your work place. âSeriously?â He nods and you shake your head, tending to the last customer thatâs in the line. âDamn, kittyâs got more game than me.â He leans closer to you, âDo you not understand what this means? You should totally become a detective like me! Weâd be the best partners out there.â You wipe your hands on your apron, leaning against the counter like he is.
âYouâre serious arenât you?â
âUhh, obviously?â He answers as if it was obvious.
âYouâre crazy, Jojo. Iâm supposed to be baking until Iâm a little old granny baking for my grandkids. I have a whole mood board. You know this.â Youâve always been baking. Ever since you met Joseph, and practically since you were born. Itâd be crazy to just let it go.
âWell, it was worth a shot I guess. Youâre still a psychic though. Wonât change my mind on that.â
âOh, please. Whatâs next? Iâm a psychic alien?â
âMaybe.â
âIf Iâm an alien, I hope Iâm Yoda.â
âNo, youâre E.T.â
You give a sidelong glance, handing him his long awaited pistachio cinnamon roll. âI shouldnât even be giving you this for free after that comment.â
âYou love me, so youâll always give me free things.â Your heart stutters, eyes darting around the room before calming down. âItâs Opposite Day,â You defend.
âWell, if it was Opposite Day, wouldnât you say it isnât Opposite Day?â He says smugly, that charming little smile on his face. âJust shut up.â
He sighs dramatically, âCanât believe Iâm stuck in such a toxic relationship. Caesar wouldnât treat me like this. Heâd treat me with TLC.â His eyes glint with amusement as he takes in your exasperated expression.
âIâm totally telling Caesar that youâre spreading propaganda.
âWhatever,â he swallows the last bit of his dessert. (Did you not just give him thatâŚ?) âI still believe that youâre some psychic. So, Iâll be coming to you when I need help.â He states, sliding the plate across the counter to you. âYeah, yeah. Iâll be your own personal psychic partner.â You answer, not taking this seriously at all, becauseâcâmon.
Until, it happened again.
âConincidence, right?â You think.
Wrong, itâs already happened four times.
10:48 PM, Tuesday
You walk out of your bakery to close up, when you notice Joseph waiting for you. âWhat are you doing here?â You ask, locking up the shop before turning to him. He looks goodâawfully good. Hair disheveled, probably from running his beautifully thick fingers through it, and sweat on his neck and bicepsâlooking like he ran over here. You swallow, the sight of him makes your heart feel funnyâbut also your gut?
He asks, taking a few steps closer to you. âYou really thought Iâd let you walk alone so late again? Donât you remember what happened last time?â Of course you do. Thatâs when you started feeling strangely pulled toward him. âAlright, no need to be a smartass. Thanks though.â Youâve always walked to your bakery since you live pretty close to it, but ever since that creep happenedâyouâve been driving to it instead.
Unfortunately for you though, your car had to go to the shop because it had been acting up. But at least you have an amazing friend who will walk you home when you need it, although he wonât shut the fuck up until you get to your place.
10:59 PM, Tuesday
The two of you have been walking for a few minutes now, his yapping hasnât stopped either. âSo, yeah. Thatâs how my coworker found out he was cracking his ex step sister.â He finishes one of his rants, leaving you completely dumbfounded.
âUhh, wow? Also donât say âcrack.â You really sound like a man.â You say, lightly scolding him. He lifts his hands in surrender, âYes, maâam.â He says casually like itâs not turning you on. You both pause in front of your apartment once you reach it, standing right in front of each other. Youâre about to say somethingâthank him for walking you or say some stupid insult. But you falter when Joseph leans his face closer to yours.
âWait, what the fuck? No wayâit canât happen like this!â You think, internally freaking out over the fact that your friend is about to kiss you. But also⌠you kinda donât mind. You close your eyes, thinking heâs going in for the kill, but he isnât.
Suddenly, you feel a random breeze on your forehead, confused, you open your eyesâfinding that Joseph had blown air on your forehead. âWhat the? What was that for?â You ask, attempting to hide the tremble in your voice. âFlour,â he says, wiping the excess off. âYou had some on your forehead.â He notices your flustered expression and of course decides to tease you.
âWhat, thought I was gonna kiss you? Cute.â His smug smile isnât small at allânope, itâs reaching all the way to his eyes. âBut seriously. I need to ask you something.â He states, seeming more serious for once. âMm, whatâs up?â
âI need you to work on a case with me.â
âWhat?â
You stare up at him like heâs totally crazy (kinda is). âLook, thereâs this really crazy case weâve been working on and I need your help.â He states seriously. Like serious. No stupid grin or glint of mischief in his eyes. âYouâre insane, Jojo. I canât help you on a case. Is that even allowed?!â You ramble slightly, but he cuts you off lightly, placing his hands on your shoulders to calm you down.
âYou donât have to if you donât wanna, but I just wanted to see. Youâve helped me on a few cases already, and this one has really been a pain in everybodyâs asses back at the station.â He begins to reason, but youâre a tough cookie to crack. âJoseph, you have to be kidding. How can a baker like me help you on a case?â You say, doubting yourself.
âRemember how that psychic brain of yours helped me out?â He jogs your memory, trying to convince you. âThereâs this case about missing pets. And noâitâs nothing like Remi. At first, we thought it was just them running away, or careless owners. But weâve noticed some patterns. We think itâs much bigger than that, and weâd like your help.â He explains, proposing his idea also. âI know itâs a lot, but youâd be a great help. Please?â He pleads, looking down at you with those big, hopeful eyes. How could you say no to him?
ââŚPromise I wonât get into any trouble?â You ask, already knowing the answer. He looks down at you with that cheeky grin of his, âOf course not. I promise Iâll be there to protect you.â His words cause your ears to flush slightly, yet he doesnât notice because of your hair. âOkay then. Iâll do it.â He smiles widely, almost tempted to hug you but holds it back. âYouâre the best, you know? Iâll make sure thisâll be your most bizarre memory yet!â
âYeah, yeah. Just donât expect me to start drinking coffee and eating donuts like you guys.â He feigns offense, a hand flying to his chest. âWell, in my defenseâcops are the ones who usually do that. And Iâm no ordinary cop, kay?â He notices how silly he sounds and cuts himself off with a hearty chuckle. âIâll catch ya later. Night and donât let the bed bugs bite.â He takes a few steps back, you wave. âNight, Jojo⌠thanks for walking me.â He dramatically bows, âItâs my pleasure! See ya.â
1:37 AM Wednesday
Youâre tossing around your bed, unable to sleep. You think itâs because of Josephsâ crazy proposal, but no. Itâs Joseph. You canât seem to get him out of your head, and the thought of him has you feeling hot and bothered. Itâs like you have an itch to scratch, but have no idea where itâs coming from. But you do, youâre just trying to ignore it.
Between your legs.
You try hard to ignore the fact that you want to masturbate to the thought of your friend. But the latter wins, so you get up from your bedâlooking for your vibrator. You walk over to your dresser, looking for it in your panty drawer, but canât seem to find it. You groan, walking over to the bathroom to check if itâs there, and spoiler alert: it's not. Walking back to your room, you remember about the pink dildos you and your friends bought back in high school.
Giggling to yourself at the thought, you find yourself looking for it through your closet. You find a bunch of things as you rummage around your closet. Old exes' hoodies, random storage containers, a taser?? After a while of searching, you finally find it, holding it up like it hung the moon.
âAm I really doing this?â Yup. Yes, you are.
After washing it many times, you finally lay back down on your bed, dildo in hand. Lube wasnât necessary, considering how wet you had already gotten from the thought of him.
Pathetic. Filthy. Disgusting. Shame. Is what you feel, but the need to touch yourself is too strong.
You open your legs, so youâre in a frog-like position. Rubbing the cold tip from your clit to your folds has you jolting slightly. You imagine itâs Joseph.
âFuckâŚâ You prod the toy at your entrance, trying to get it in after not using it for so long. Your breath hitches slightly once you get the tip in, then two more inches. âMmâ! FuckâŚâ Your thighs clench over your hand once you finally get the whole thing in. You begin to move the toy in and out, feeling the veins of it drag along your sensitive walls.
âMmhâ! Fuck, itâs so good, Joseph.â You pick up the pace, the filthy sounds of sloshing and slapping fills up your room. âSâgood⌠oâoh my god!â Your breathing fastens, head falls back onto your pillow as your eyes close. You continue to drag the toy cock along your walls, but something is missing. Him.
You imagine itâs Joseph slamming his hips against yours, balls against your assâfucking you absolutely dumb. âYouâre being so good for me, baby. You like it when I fuck you stupid, huh? Taking my cock soooo⌠fuckinâ good.â You imagine him saying, and the thought makes you clench even more. You quicken your pace, whimpering his name and rubbing your clit at the same time.
The combo makes you feel like youâre in heaven. As you chase your edge, the tip of it prods perfectly against that spongy spot inside you, making you fall over the edge and your cum down your legs. âHnnghâ! Sâgood, damn itâŚâ You lie there like a ragdoll, still and breathless. You glance down at the mess between your legs, the slick and cum running down your thighs and ass. The imagination of it being a mix of yours and Josephsâ messâmakes you clench around nothing.
11:13 AM, Wednesday
Joseph had a day off today, and so did you. So, he had texted you earlier to come by his place to talk about the case. Youâre practically fidgeting with anything that you can find as you walk over to his apartment. I meanâhow are you supposed to face your friend when you literally came to the thought of him.
Once you walk up to his place, you lift your finger, pressing the button and call for his place. âHello?â His voice rings through the intercom. âItâs me, Jojo. Open up.â You respond, and the second your voice hits his earsâyou hear a buzzing sound, indicating that he has unlocked the door for you.
Opening the door, youâre hit with a scent of cigarettes and vanilla. Cigarettes make sense for a New York apartment, but vanilla? Probably teenage girls spraying their perfume before school. You shake the thought from your head, focusing on whatâs ahead. Which are flights of stairs. Joseph had told you he lived on the top floor. There are 10 floors.
Ten. Floors.
No elevator.
He had said earlier that the elevator broke down, so you could mentally and physically prepare yourself before. And you did. You were pretty confident before coming here. Easy peasy, right?
Wrong.
Youâre already on the third floor and felt like you had run a ten mile marathon. âThereâs no way Iâm doing this without passing out.â You say to yourself, sweat beading on your forehead. Iâm a woman, I can do this. You think to yourself, never wanting to give men the satisfaction of victory.
You go girl!
After seven more floors, you finally make it to Josephâs apartment door. You knock on his door with a trembling fist, already imagining how youâre going to kill him. He opens the door, dressed casually and hair less styled. âOh, hey! You made it.â He greets you happily as if you didnât just climb Mount Everest. Youâre about to lightly snap at him for making you climb so many stairs, but you canât even form a thought because he looks so good.
âHellooo? Earth toââ he calls, but you interrupt him. âShut up. Iâm just trying to regain my consciousness after climbing so many damn stairs. Did we really have to do this at your place?â You ask, partly because of the stairs, but also because of the thought of being in his place with him. Alone. Makes you feel warm and tingly.
âSorry, I didnât think the stairs would be such a huge issue. Come in, Iâll get you something to drink.â He offers, opening the door more to let you in. You step inside, toeing off your shoes at the entrance. He closes the door behind you, leading you to the kitchen.
âWhat do you want? Name your poison and I can guarantee Iâve got it.â He says proudly like heâs some type of drink plug. âLet me get a Baja blast Mountain Dew.â You say in an attempt to mess with him. Thereâs no way heâd have a drink so specific like that, right?
He pulls a can from his fridge, sliding it across the counter to you. You catch it, reading the labelâand itâs in fact, a Baja blast Mountain Dew. He smirks at you confidently as usual, âWhat? Thought I didnât have it?â He chuckles, gesturing for you to follow him to the couch.
You both settle on the couch and Joseph notices your legs⌠they look extra shiny and softâheâs so tempted to touch them, hitch them around his waist and fuck you nasty. He coughs, turning his focus to the folders on the coffee table rather than your legs. âSo, uhh let me tell you about this crazy pet case.â He says, trying to change the subject in his mind.
âSo,â he begins, grabbing one of the folders from the table and opening it. âWe had this report from a few weeks ago. Missing dog on Mason Street at around 1 AM. At first we all thought it was your ordinary missing animal case.â He says while looking at the folder, but picks up his gaze to meet yours. âBut weâve been getting more reports around the same area and time, and we donât think itâs a coincidence anymore.â
He places the folder back down on the table, turning to you with a seriousness in his eyes. âThatâs why I recommend your help to the station. They said it was alright as long as I donât tell you too much.â You nod, âSo⌠you really trust me with this?â You ask, feeling quite small and doubtful.
His hand moves to your leg to bring you support, noticing your small voice. Yet, he falters and places the hand on your shoulder, not fully trusting himself. âLook, youâre the smartest person I know. I wouldnât have told you if I didnât really believe in you.â He gives you that dashing smile that he knows always works on you. âTrust me, kay?â
You find yourself melting under his touch and believing his words. âAlright then. Letâs do this.â He squeezes your shoulder briefly, giving you his signature smirk. âThere she is. Now thatâs what Iâm talking about.â
1:26 PM Wednesday
The two of you work on the case for a while, making theories and tossing out possibilities that sound ridiculous. You sigh, throwing yourself back onto the cushion of the couch. âHow do detectives do this all the time? I literally wanna rip my hair out.â He chuckles at your annoyed attitude, plopping down on the couch next to you.
âYouâre exactly how I was at the beginning. Itâs a canon event.â He recalls old memories, thinking back on how he struggled on his first case. âIf you wanna take a break, we totally can. Remember, youâre only helping out because you want to. Not because you have to.â He reassures you gently, making you feel slightly better. âThanks, Jojo. Youâre really nice when you want to be.â
âOnly to my favorite girl.â It rips out like a confession. Like he truly meant it.
Because he did. Joseph never really believed in love. He always thought it was a ridiculous thing. Sure he fucked around here and there, girls confessed to himâhell even dated a bit. But those girls never meant anythingânot until he met you at least.
Six years ago
It was his freshman year of college, and he had been walking to the TAâs desk to ask them a simple question. Unbeknownst to Joseph since he was literally paying attention to his phone and nothing else, he bumped into a girlâyou.
You stumbled backwards a bit, but he caught youâplacing his hand at the small of your back to stabilize you. âShitâmy bad. That was on me.â He apologized, removing his hand from your back once you were stable. You lift your head to get a better look at him. He's got broad shoulders, a toned body, messy brown hair, and an apologetic grin on his face.
âYouâre fine⌠it was a simple mistake.â You reassured him.
His normal grin returns to his face as he realizes you arenât some annoying, stuck-up, smart student. That isnât the only thing that he realizes though. He realizes how beautiful you are, making his heart feel strangeâa feeling heâs never felt.
âIs this what love feels like?â He thinks to himself.
After that, he always stuck by you. He did practically everything with you. Studied, ranted, laughed, loved. All of that was only for you. He obviously did nothing about it though because his pride was too high, and also because he thought youâd never see him like that and he was scared to lose you. And you didnât, not until recently that is.
1:28 PM Wednesday
âOnly to my favorite girl.â
âWhat?â You ask, feeling your cheeks flush. That sight doesnât go unnoticed by Joseph either. He leans in closer, his shoulder slightly touching yours and his breath tickling your face. âYou feel it too, right?â He whispers, leaning in a bit more.
âLookââ he starts, but is cut off by a phone call. âFuck⌠gimme a second.â He pulls back, picking up his phone and walking to the kitchen to answer the callâleaving you completely dumbfounded and fuzzy on his couch.
âWhat the absolute fuck was that? Did he justâ? What is happening?! Heâs gotta be messing with me. Thereâs no way.â You ramble in your head not noticing that Joseph is walking back to the couch. âSo⌠I actually gotta head into the station.â He says casually like what happened 5 minutes ago didnât happen. âBut I thought you had the day off?â
âI did, but itâs about the missing pets case. They need my help.â He answers your confusion, pulling on his jacket and his shoes. âYou can leave whenever you wanna, but I should go now. See ya.â He gives a halfhearted wave before closing the front door. âSeriously? He just left as if he didnât have my heart racing like crazy! What is his issue?â
After a while of just sitting there with your heart and mind racing, you decide to finally get up and head back home.
8:49 PM Friday
It had already been two days since that day and you havenât seen Joseph at all. Sure, you heard from him here and thereânot like he totally ghosted you. But with Josephsâ wild and loud personality, he might as well be.
You had just begun cleaning the tables in your bakery when Joseph walked in. âYo, got anything left for me?â He asks, referring to any desserts or drinks. âI still gotta do the dishes, mop the floor, prep my foods, and count money. Pick your choice.â You say sarcastically, unable to hide the bitterness in your tone. Of course it doesnât go unnoticed by Joseph, but he chooses to ignore it. âHa ha, very funny. Seriously though, got anything left?â
âJust go in the back and grab whatever.â You say, resuming your cleaning. He gives you a small grin and walks over to the back to grab whatever dessert his heart desires.
He comes back with a plateful of diabetes, but it doesnât even phase you anymore. Heâs practically a vacuum. âSo⌠you've been busy or something? You havenât really stopped by lately.â You question him, seeing what story heâll pull out of his ass. âYup, been pretty busy.â He says, sitting down at the table youâre currently cleaning.
âEspecially with this case and all.â He talks around the bite of his pumpkin roll. âThatâs actually what I came here to talk to you about. Iâve got some new information and wanted to see what you had to say about it.â Of course he did. Of course thatâs the only thing he came here for. Not to ease your mind or anything.
âSo, whatâs new?â You ask as you finish wiping down the last table, sitting across from him. âWeâve gotten reports on how the suspect looks. Itâs an old lady, looks like sheâs in her 50s. Not many of the reports were able to describe her too well except for two.â He shifts in his seat, taking a sip of his coffee before continuing.
âBoth say sheâs got light ginger hair to about her shoulders and small lipsâalso said sheâs got paw prints on her shoes. Left footprints on someoneâs step before.â He describes the ladyâs features and appearance. âSo, what do you think?â He asks, awaiting your response. âI think itâs kind of ridiculous that a few detectives canât figure out a simple missing pets case.â You say sarcastically, earning a small huff from his lips. âCâmon, just take this seriously, yeah?â
Surprised by his sudden serious nature, you decide to just give in. âFine, you wanna know what I think? If these cases are all happening around the same area and time⌠I think sheâs gotta live around the area as well. Some old lady canât walk around at night if she lives far away.â You catch your breath before beginning again.
âI think sheâs gotta be connected to all of these people somehow. She seems to be around the same age as all of the victims as well. Maybe itâs revenge or something.â You say, wondering if maybe this lady might know her victims personally.
âThatâs⌠actually not too bad, considering some of them saying she looked familiar.â He swallows the last bit of whatever he was eating, sipping the last bit of his drink. He stands up, pushing his chair in. You look up, wondering where heâs going. âWhat are you doing?â
âIâm heading back to the station?â He states like itâs no big deal. âReally? Youâre not gonna stay a while?â He shrugs, âNo⌠whatâs the point?â
Whatâs the point?
He walks over to the door, giving a half-assed wave. âIâll see ya later. Be safe walking home.â And just like thatâhe leaves you dumbfounded once more.
10:27 PM Friday
Closing the door behind you, you toe off your shoes and walk over to your couch, plopping down on it and closing your eyes. You think back on how Joseph acted back at your bakery. He was so⌠irritating.
Why was he acting as if I did something wrong?
He just acted like thereâs nothing happening between us.
Or am I the only one feeling this way? Confused and⌠heartbroken??
11:17 PM Friday
Joseph is currently sitting at his desk, working on another case. He actually seems⌠focused for once. His fellow detectives glance at him like heâs wearing some clown costume. His gaze falls over to them briefly before turning back to his work.
âWhat are you guys staring at?â
âYouâre actually working for onceâŚâ One of them speaks up, a knowing smirk on their face. âLet me guessâyour girl broke up with you?â That makes Joseph falter slightly. âSheâs not my girl.â He says defensively. âOhh, so there is one.â
Shit.
âEven if there was one, I wouldnât have to tell you guys. Mind your own.â He says, sassily, might they add. âWhatever, man. Just donât miss your shot, yeah?â That person pats him on the shoulder, walking back to their desk.
Just donât miss your shot, yeah?
He shakes off the thought while his gaze falls to the other two who are still standing there with knowing smiles. âShoo. Leave me aloneâIâm working.â And they do, just not without giggling of course.
9:18 PM Thursday
It had been a week since Joseph had been acting more strangely than usual. Youâre growing absolutely sick of it. Surprisingly though, he had invited you over to his placeâbut only to talk about the case.
Of course.
You knock on his door, fidgeting with the strap of your bag. After a few seconds of standing there, Joseph opens the door. He looks annoyingly sexy with the way his sweatpants hang low on his hips, and how his biceps are basically ripping through his shirt.
âHey.â
âHi, come inâŚâ
Talk about awkward
You walk in normally, toeing off your shoes at the entryway per usual. âWant anything to drink?â He asks in an attempt to fill the awkward tension. âNope,â you answer. âIâm all good.â He simply nods stiffly and gestures for you to follow him to the couch. You sit down close to him, his knee brushing against yours.
âSo, what do you have to tell me?â You say, and it sounds like thereâs a double meaning. âNothing much. Just got a few more reports about the pet thief looking familiarâwanted to let you know.â You nod, gesturing for him to continue.
He tells you more about the case and the lady, yet your focus seems to be on something else. He notices and pauses, turning his gaze to you. âYo, are you listening?â He asks, slightly annoyed. âIf you donât wanna do this you can just go home.â
âGo home? So then you can keep acting weird?â You finally snap, his behavior from the past week setting you off. He blinks, clearly caught off guard by your words. âTch, acting weird? What on earth are you talking about?â He 100% knows what you mean, but we already know his pride is too high or heâs just ashamed.
âWhat am I talking about? Donât bullshit me, Joseph. Youâve been acting weird ever since you said that⌠thing.â He drops the folder onto the table, turning to you more. âThing? What thing?â He asks, although he might already have an idea.
âWhen you called me your favorite girl, damn it!â Youâre now sitting on the edge of his couch, the frustration from the week getting to you. âThen after that, you leaned in like you were going to kiss meâbut then brushed it off like nothing happened! Like it was nothingâŚâ You snap, your expression seems annoyed and frustratedâyet the glint of hurt in your eyes doesnât go unnoticed.
âLike it was nothing?â He repeats your words. âThatâs where youâre wrong. It never meant nothing to me. You never meant nothing.â He confesses, his gaze on the floor before picking it up to yours. He notices the hitch in your breath, your expression softening.
âFuck it.â He thinks.
âDo you have any idea how hard it is to not think of you every single second of my damn day? I thought if I could just throw myself into work, itâd help me forget about my crazy crush for you.â He confesses but doesnât stop.
âIâve been practically obsessed with you ever since we met. Iâveâgod! Iâve imagined how amazing it would be to have you. I already have my goddamn life planned out. IâI love you! And not just like a friend. I want to marry you, and I of course havenât planned it out yet because I know how much youâd love to plan your own wedding!â
He chokes up on his words a bit. âThe only request I make is that we take pictures on the Brooklyn Bridgeâyou wearing an apron while Iâm in a full stereotypical detective outfit, representing your love for baking and mine for mysteries. I wanna have children with you. And yeahâno set number on how many because youâd be the woman of the house. Iâd follow whatever youâd sayâbecause I love you, damn itâŚâ
âYou consume me. Youâve been consuming me for the damn six years Iâve known you!â He states with a small tremble in his voice, jaw tightening. âI know I was wrong for how I acted this week. But I was scared. Scared if I had taken it too far and feared you would hate me.â He says, voice softer now.
âI love you so goddamn much itâs killing me inside.â He notices the way youâre just sitting there. Mouth agape and eyes misty from his words. âWhat? Just gonna stare at me like Iâm crazââ
You cut him off with your lips to hisâitâs sudden and messy. Youâre pulling him in by his collar, heâs hands on the small of your back and the couch to stabilize himself. It starts off slow at firstâmore soft and gentle rather than sloppy. But that doesnât last long the second Joseph pulls you to straddle his hips.
His hands fly to your waist while your arms wrap loosely around his neck. He nips on your bottom lip, tongue soothing over it. Fingers ghosting around the exposed skin where your shirt rides up a bit, yours in his hair. He groans against your lips at the feeling of your soft fingers in his hair.
âFuckâkeep doing that. Feels good.â He murmurs against your lips, tongue darting out to swipe across your bottom lip, a silent plea. You easily oblige, opening your mouth slightlyâand he wastes no time. He practically shoots his tongue into your mouth, and feeling your warmness against his makes him want to cum on the spot.
Your teeth are clashing together, the desire to feel each other is too strong. âFuck, câcan I move?â You ask to grind against him hesitantly, and god it feels pathetic. âMmfâof course, Iâm all yours.â You press your lips to his jaw, moving down to his neck as you grind helplessly on his hard and clothed cock.
He leans his head back onto the couch to give you more access, although it was already on its way there by the feeling of you moving on top of him. âFâFuck⌠donât stop. You feel so good, babyâŚâ
âBaby?â
âWhat, donât like it?â He asks with a small huff of a chuckle.
You shake your head with a small smile on your face, continuing your work of art. And by work of artâitâs the marks that your lips have been making across his neck. His hips meet yours as you grind, his boner hitting your clit juuusst right. âOâOh my godâŚâ you gasp against his neck. His hands drop to your ass as he notices the way you squirm.
He guides you as you grind down on himâslow and filthy, the friction between you two making you feel all buzzed up. âJâJosephâŚâ you arch up against him. âCâmon, cutie. You got this⌠cum for me.â Your orgasm hits hard, soaking through your pants which seep down to hisâmaking a dark grey spot on his sweatpants.
He looks down at the mess and chuckles, âFuuckk⌠thatâs really hot, you know.â Your cheeks flush, hiding them in the crook of his neck. âShut up, idiotâŚâ He simply leans in to whisper in your ear. âWeâre not done, you know?â And just like thatâheâs picking you up and walking over to his bedroom. You wrap your legs around his waist, slightly nervous for whatâs to come (you and him).
âWait, youâre serious about this?â You ask as he lays you down on his bed which smells like mahogany and teakwood. He crawls on top of you, âIâve been serious about this ever since we met.â His expression softens, the desire and hunger leaving for just a second. âWe can always stop if you donât wanna though. Thereâs no pressure.â
âNo.â You say quickly, revealing how much you really want this. âI want you, Joseph. I need you.â
âYou have me. Always had.â He kisses from your neck down to your abdomen, kneeling between your thighs. He moves lower, looking up at you. âCan I?â You nod, despite your heart pounding like crazy. He pulls down your pants and takes them off fully, revealing your cute and soft pink panties. He pushes your legs apart as his nose digs into your clothed pussy, making your hips jolt to his face.
âFuuck, jusâ seeing you like this makes me wanna fuck you like crazy.â He confesses so casually. He looks up with a silent question and you nod. He pulls down your panties, and the second theyâre off his face is buried in your pussy. âFuck, baby⌠youâre all Iâve ever dreamed of.â
âJoseph⌠quit teasing and just do it alreadyâŚâ You plead and heâs gentleâbut messy. His tongue finally settles on you, dragging through your folds messily and hungry. Your hands fly to his hair, tugging slightly. âMm, fuck yeah.. keep pulling on me like that. You taste so goodâmmh.â
And you do every time his tongue plunges inside you and curls perfectly or when he nips at your clit. âFuckâ! Joseph, feels sâfucking goodâŚâ You canât see his smirk, but you can feel it against your pussy. His tongue slides from your clit to your entrance, plunging it inside you to meet that spongy spot.
âShit! Donât stop, Jojo. Fuckâmâgonna cum just like thisâŚâ Heâs tasting every inch of you and absolutely savoring it. âYou taste so fucking good, baby. Gonna make you cum all over my fucking face, then my cock. Mm? How does that sound?â
âJosephâfuck! It sounds perfect, god. Please make me cum, Joseph⌠I need it.â Your hips grind against his face, chasing that high. âMmhâthatâs it, baby. Use me like Iâm your goddamn toy.â He notices the way you're trembling, indicating that the finishing line is right there. âCum for me, sweets. Make a mess all over my tongue.â You do the second the tip of his tongue dances perfectly around your clit.
Your back is arched off of the bed, thighs clenched tight around his head as your juices flood into his mouth. He groans, the vibrations making you tremble just a bit more, but not as much as the way he slurps up your mess. He pulls back once youâve relaxed, your slick over his mouth and chin.
âYouâre so fucking messy, you know that? My messy girl.â He declares, hints of possessiveness in his words. He moves his head from in between your legs, crawling up to you so youâre now face to face. He leans in to kiss you again, this one more precise and gentleâsofter.
He pulls back just enough to look at you and the way you look absolutely stunning. Hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, flushed cheeks, and that damn glint in your eyes. âWhat?â You ask with a soft smile.
âYouâre just so beautiful. Thatâs all.â Your smile falters, not expecting his sweet words. Youâre about to say something back, maybe witty or something to make him laughâbut you notice how his breathing is still faster than usual, and his large boner prodding against your thigh.
âJoseph?â
âYeah?â
âDo you wanna fuck me?â
His eyes shoot open in surprise at your blunt words. âWhaâ? I meanâuhh, yeah? Only if you really want to though.â He says, looking way more awkward than usual.
âI wouldnât ask if I didnât want it, Jojo.â He nods, âRight⌠Iâll go see if I have any condomââ Heâs already on the move when you stop him short, grabbing him by his arm. âThereâs no need for those. Iâm on birth control.â
He drags a hand down his face. âAre you serious?â When you nod, he chuckles against the crook of your neck. âYouâre absolutely crazy, you know that?â He pulls back just enough to catch your gaze.
âYou really trust me with this?â He asks, his tone slightly doubtful. You simply look up at him with a soft glint of affection in your eyes, cupping his cheek. âIâd trust you with my life,â saying with a soft laugh. You donât realize how hard it hits Joseph though.
âDamn it⌠youâre ruining me.â Your soft and trusting words hit the target perfectly on his heart. âI wonât disappoint you. Promise.â He says with his dashing smile, one you couldnât stop thinking of for weeks.
He pulls his sweatpants off in a swift motion, grinding his boxer-covered cock against your bare pussy briefly. âFuck⌠youâre perfect, baby.â He leans back just enough to pull off his boxers as well.
Oh. My. God.
Youâd imagine he was packing, but this is just another level. He was like eight inches or ten?? You couldnât tell by the way you were so prepared to get fucked out. It was beautiful. Then with how fat and girthy it looked? You were fucked. Literally.
He notices the way you gaze falls down to his long and fat cock. He chuckles, âLiking the view?â
âWho wouldnât? GodâŚâ You say, never seeing such a cock this amazing in person before. He leans down to whisper in your ear. âJust trust me, alright?â And of course you do, cause the second he rubs his fat cock between your soaking foldsâmaking slosh noises fill up the room? You melt in his arms.
âMmhâJosephâŚâ You squirm under his touch. Your slick soaking his shaft, âFuckâyou feel so goodâŚâ Joseph gasps out. His precum spills over your clit, the warm sensation sets your nerves tingling like fireworks through your body.
âYou ready?â Joseph asks. You nod, breathing heavier than a damn dog. âYâYeah, Iâm ready.â With that, he prods the mushroom head against your entrance, feeling how you tense up.
He slowly fills you up, two inches in already. âFuck.. itâs like you were made for me. You good?â You nod, eyes closed from the absolute ecstasy flowing through your bones. âLook at me, sweets. I wanna see you as I fill you up all nice.â
You open your eyes, meeting his pretty blue ones. âKeep going, Joseph. FâFuck!â You squeal, feeling him fill you up even more. He keeps going, filling you up inch by inch. Joseph feels you squirming slightly under his touch, so he intertwines your fingers together to avoid that.
He hitches your right leg around his waist, ready to pound into the perfect angle. He pulls out just so the tip is right at your entrance, then pushes in deeply at the right pace. âMmâ! Oh my god, fuck. Keep going..â
âWasnât planning on stopping, cutie.â He continues that same pace, his balls slapping against your ass and your slick arousal. schlick! schlick! schlick! âFuuuckk, youâre so warm and tight, gonna milk me dry.â
âNghâsâtoo deep..â Joseph muffles your erotic noises by leaning down to kiss you, dancing his warm tongue against yours. You gasp into his mouth, tasting your orgasm and a hint of raspberry.
A mix of whimpering and soft groans fill your ears. âFuuck, Iâm so close, sweets. So warm and squishy.. squeezing me so perfect. Gonna paint your insides all nice and white.â
âJosephhhâ!â Youâre cut off by a sharp thrust and Joseph spilling inside you. You follow after with a sharp gasp, coating his long shaft. âShitâsâfucking good. Youâre amazing..â He caresses your cheek, looking down at you lovingly.
Your cheeks flush slightly, âWhy the heck is he looking at me like that?â You thought to yourself. âWhat are you looking at?â You had meant to sound more sharp, but it came out soft and uncertain. âSorry⌠youâre just really pretty.â He says, placing a sweet kiss to your forehead.
âYou okay? I didnât go too far, right?â You nod quietly, feeling a small bliss in your chest. âThatâs goodâŚâ He says quietly, finally pulling out of you with a soft whimper. He lies next to you, suddenly feeling everything rush in at once.
âI canât believe that just happened. Iâve liked her for so longâbut weâve been friends for so long too. What if things go badâor awkward?!â You turn towards him, lifting yourself up on your elbow.
You notice how heâs turned quieter, a vast difference to his usual self. After a while of thinking, you lean in and place a soft kiss to his cheek. âYou were good too, Joseph. All Iâve ever⌠wanted.â You say softly, meeting his gaze.
His eyes slightly widen, but soften quickly. âIâm glad⌠really glad.â He grins, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you in so you rest on his chest.
âJoâ?â
âShh⌠just be quiet. Canât believe Iâm having this now.â He tugs you just a bit closer, loving the feel of you in his arms. âWe can wash up later. Just let me have this.â And you do, allowing yourself to relax in his arms.
TWO WEEKS LATER
11:28 AM Wednesday
It had been about two weeks since that night, and it hasnât left your mind since. You and Joseph had gone onto two dates ever since you guys got together, so you guys can get into that flow of dating and not just being friends.
The first few days were weird. Joseph tried to be more romantic and touchy, yet you were still getting used to everything. It still feels kinda odd, but youâre determined to figure it out for yourself.
âThank you and have a great day!â You say, sending off one of your customers. You notice how everything has slowed down, so you start to prepare for some things. You go into the back and grab a halfway filled packet of flour.
Youâre about to put the packet down onto the counter when someone calls out for you. With a sigh, you keep the packet in your armsâthinking itâll be something quick and walk over to whoever called you.
You see a lady around your age, gesturing for you to come over, so you do. âHi, what can I help you with?â You ask, hoping this wonât take too long. âOh, I was just wondering how you made this walnut pie. Itâs so delicious, and I would love to find out the recipe.â
You sigh internally, knowing that this walnut pie is a piece of shit to make, considering how you do almost everything from scratch. âWell, of course I could tell you. Maybe just find something to put this all down on.â You softly smiled, but wanting to go back in time and leave this packet of flour in the back.
11:53 AM Wednesday
You had been talking to this woman for 25 minutes. Twenty-five. While also holding a pretty hefty packet of flour, this woman just wonât stop asking questions. Your arms felt like jelly, sweat prickled at your forehead, while your foot tapped against the ground uncontrollably.
You were about to hitch the packet back up against your chest since it kept falling, but due to your flimsy armsâyou ended up spilling the flour on the floor.
Shit.
You first look around, checking if anyone has gotten dirty with the flour. âShoot, Iâm so sorry. Iâll be back with a broom.â You excuse yourself and head to the back so you can grab some things to clean the mess.
Once you exit the back, you notice a customer has come in. âIâm sorry, maâam. Iâll get to you once this is all cleaned up.â
âOh, honey⌠let me help you.â The old lady offers, but you shake your head. âNo, itâs okay. Iâve got it.â The lady insists and holds onto the broom. âPlease, let me help you.â With a soft sigh, you nod and dust off some remaining flour off of your apron.
As she sweeps, you grab her order. Once her order is all ready, you place it onto the table and take the broom from her once sheâs all ready. âHere you go. Itâs on the house, so donât worry.â She gives you a kind smile and thanks you.
You put the broom back, and head back to the register. You notice how well the lady swept your floor. It probably hasnât looked this good since you bought the place. You build up the courage to go up to the lady and ask how she cleans so well.
âExcuse me, maâam, but how are you so good at sweeping? I donât think Iâve seen it this clean in ages.â You confess with slight sheepishness as she politely chuckles. âIâve got a lot of pets back in my house. Thereâs always fur somewhere.â Your eyebrows shoot up slightly in recognition, nodding as you realize where her skills come from.
âYou must have a bunch. It seriously looks amazing.â
8:47 PM Wednesday
You had just closed up the bakery and began to prepare for the next day, wiping down tables and grabbing ingredients for the croissants that needed to be prepared. You were washing your hands in the back when you heard a knock on the door.
Wiping your hands on your apron, you go to check and your eyes fall onto Josephâs charming grinâgesturing for you to open the door.
You walk over to the door, unlocking it and opening it up. It almost resembles a lionâs den opening up to pounds of meat, the way Joseph immediately clings to you.
âWell, if it isnât my amazing, sweet, and beautiful girlfriend. How is she feeling on this fine evening?â He questions, his hands immediately finding your waist and pulling you to press your body against his.
Your hands lie on his chest as you look down at your nails, suddenly feeling shy. âIâm doing fine⌠and you?â He chuckles softly, removing one hand from your waist to lift up your head. With a quiet sigh you meet his eyes, expecting for him to tease youâbut his eyes are soft and understanding.
âLook⌠I know this is new, but you don't gotta be shy with me. If you want me to back off, I can.â You immediately shake your head, focusing your gaze on his. âNo, no itâs fine. I canât lie and say that it doesnât feel weird, but itâs not like I donât want it.â
âGood,â he says, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. âI probably wasnât going to stop anyway.â You let out a small chuckle, feeling slightly relaxed.
âOf course you wouldnât. Youâre too clingy for that.â His nose immediately scrunches up with feigned offense. âI am not clingy. Take that back.â He says, shaking your body softly as if heâs trying to shake the words out of you.
âMm-mm, Iâm not taking back whatâs true.â You say with a cheeky grin. He looks like heâs about to either tickle you or bombard you with kisses, but you both hear a ding from the back.
âOh, câmon. Those should be the egg tarts.â Strangely, you grab his hand and lead him towards the back, and he of course follows with no issue.
Joseph stands near the counter as you grab the oven mitts to grab the egg tarts. You open the oven, a wave of heat falling over your face. You grab the tarts and place them over a rag to cool off on the counter.
As they cool, you tweak a few thingsâmaking them look picture perfect. While you do that, a cheeky little thing called Joseph, walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waistâresting his chin on your shoulder.
âMm⌠smells delicious. Can I get one?â He asks, despite already moving his hand to grab one. You softly swat his hand away, âItâs gotta cool off, idiot. Just wait a second.â He huffs and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. âMy girlfriend is so cruel to me. My heart is breakingâŚâ
You ignore his dramatics and continue to work on the egg tarts. He huffs even louder, then presses open mouthed kisses on your neck. Your breath hitches slightly, the feeling of his tongue on your neck making your knees feel weak.
âJojo, quit itâŚâ you say despite your head tilting slightly to the side to give him more access. âI donât wanna though,â he murmurs against your neck. âIâm trying to workâŚâ you try to reason, but feel your resolve slipping.
âYou can handle both. Itâs called multitasking.â You roll your eyes at his cheeky tone, but a small gasp leaves your lips once his land onto the sensitive part of your neck. Despite wanting to let go right here and let him fuck you against the wall, you know you have bigger things to deal with than his cock.
âIâm serious, Jojo. Letâs⌠do it later, yeah?â You boldly say, and that grabs Josephâs attention in an instant. âLater, hmm? Iâm holding you to that.â He says, pinching your hip lightly just to make you squirm.
9:34 PM Wednesday
Joseph stayed near you as you finished up your work. You put your apron to hang near your little locker, then pull on your jacket and grab your bag. âReady to go? Iâll walk you home.â You nod and walk up to him so the two of you can head out.
Joseph is about to grab your hand when he notices some footprints on the floor. âDude, do you never clean up? Itâs so messy.â Confused, you look down to where his eyes are and find some light floury footprints. You think back on the day and realize they were probably the old ladyâs.
âOh, some lady helped me clean up earlier. Probably didnât realize she had some flour on her shoes. Gimme a second, Iâll clean itââ
âWait.â
âHm? Whatâs wrong?â You look at Joseph with a furrowed brow. Why the heck wasnât he letting you clean it up? He crouches down and looks at the footprint closely. âHey uhh, do you remember what the lady looked like?â
You find his demeanor odd, but comply anyway. You think back on your day and the ladyâs look. âShe had pretty short, ginger hair, uhh green eyes, and some small lips. Why do you ask?â
Everything clicks for Joseph once you describe her. âI think that mightâve been the suspect. Look at these prints,â he points. âThey have a sorta paw print shape, and remember how said thatâs what the witnesses said they saw?â
You think back to a few weeks ago: âBoth say sheâs got light ginger hair to about her shoulders and small lipsâalso said sheâs got paw prints on her shoes. Left footprints on someoneâs step before.â
âShit. She was literally in my bakery, and I just let her go. What the fuck is wrong with me?â You think to yourself. You were mad with Joseph at the time, so his words didnât fully settle until now.
âYou have cameras, right? Do they work?â You nod, already leading him towards the back to check the cameras. Joseph checks everything out, asking you questions about when she came in, and if she said anything suspicious.
You answer everything clearly, feeling absolutely guilty for letting the lady go. Joseph takes everything he needs and turns back to you. He places his hands on your shoulders, coaxing you to meet his gaze.
âCâmon, baby⌠look at me.â You meet his eyes, and his eyes fall over your drooped eyes and that small pout. âYou donât need to feel responsible for this, okay? There was nothing you could have done, so donât worry.â
âBut I couldâve called forââ
âShh⌠itâs not your problem to deal with.â He tugs you closer, holding you close to his chest and letting his chin sit on the crown of your head. âIâm sorry⌠I couldâve made your job way easier if I had called.â
âNone of that⌠youâre still helping regardless, you know? Who knows how much longer we couldâve been stuck on this if you didnât drop that flour.â He teases lightly, trying to lift your mood.
A huff of laughter escapes your lips, then you pull back enough to look at him. âI guess youâre rightâŚâ
âI always am.â
You roll your eyes at his smugness, despite a smile creeping onto your face. âYouâre such a loser.â
âYour loser,â and he seals it in with a soft peck.
3:29 PM Saturday
Joseph had turned in the evidence and questioned many of the previous witnesses and victims. Many of them recognized the lady as someone they went to school with. They described her as someone who was constantly fighting for animals, and some strict vegan.
Apparently she always babbled about how animals are always treated cruelly, and needed to be the rulers of the world like how they used to.
In other words, a total cuckoo.
He had gotten the ladyâs address and prepared to take her in. He gathered a few of his colleagues just in case he needed backup and animal control.
5:23 PM Saturday
Joseph knocked on the ladyâs door, seemingly all innocent. The lady opens the door with a kind smile, the total opposite of a cuckoo. âHi, what can I help you with?â She asks, looking at Joseph carefully.
âAfternoon, maâam. I have a warrant to check your house.â The lady tilts her head, looking confused. âA warrant? Why would you need to look at my house?â
âThereâs a case that Iâm working on, and I believe your house could be connected. Please step aside.â Joseph steps in, causing her to stumble slightly.
He looks around as the lady tries to reason with him.
Too many bowls.
Fur everywhere.
But no animals in sight.
He looks over at the basement door, and the lady freezes. âDetective, I have some very personal things down there, so Iâd rather you not go.â
âPersonal or not, this is a very serious case and I have a warrant.â The lady tries to stop him, but since sheâs slightly old sheâs unable to catch up. Joseph speeds down the stairs and his eyes lie on many cages.
They were all stacked up on each other, three cats smushed into one while two medium sized dogs in another. There had to have been at least 30 pets in here. The living space was horrible, but at least they looked well cared for.
But you couldnât have cats, dogs, bunnies, hamsters, and surprisingly, bearded dragons all together in one place. It looked like a nightmare.
âIâI, sir, you shouldnât be down here.â She attempts to usher him upstairs, but itâs too late. Joseph pins the lady against the wall, grabbing his cuffs. âMs. Lynn, you are under arrest for the theft of animals.â He reads out all of her rights to her and calls for backup to collect all of these animals.
âYou canât put me in jail! My babies need their mother! They need a home!â She freaks as Joseph leads her to the car. âThose animals arenât your pets, maâam. You took them from their home.â
She attempts to wriggle from his grasp, absolutely causing a scene in the neighborhood. âThose shitheads donât deserve them! TâTheyâre just people who keep their pets as decorations! They donât really care about them! Give me my babies!â
âThatâs enough, maâam. Youâre causing a scene.â
Joseph puts her into the car and closes the door. âWhat a psycho..â he thinks and turns to the officers, directing them to grab the animals and take them back to their rightful owners.
A MONTH LATER
11:13 PM Sunday
Joseph had told you everything about the lady, and why she did what she did. Apparently, back in her school days many of the victims had made fun of her because she seemed like some animal freak. She had always been an activist for animals, but clearly didnât know how to handle it.
When she saw that they had pets, she believed that they didnât truly love them and treated them like decor. But she was truly wrong and selfish. She had gotten about a year and two months in jail for neglect of animals.
âDid I ever tell you how it smelled like a farm show in there? It was like the house was made of shit.â Joseph says casually as you bite into your pistachio cinnamon roll. âEw, Joseph. Donât talk about shit while Iâm eating. Thatâs nasty.â You lightly scold him with a roll of your eyes.
âSorry, baby. I just had to let it out, you know.â Of course he did, he was always talking about something.
He gazes at you as you eat, feeling absolutely grateful for finally having you. âYouâre always looking at me, Jojo. StopâŚâ you say, feeling your cheeks flush just a bit. âIâm just really happy to have such an amazing and pretty woman as my girlfriend.â
âYouâre always being cheesy.â You say, not noticing the crumbs on your lips.
âAnd youâre messy.â He leans in enough to place an open mouthed kiss on your lips, causing you to gasp into the kiss but quickly melt. His lips move against yours like they were meant to be there. It felt like dancing in the rain.
Joseph pulls back enough and licks his lips, tasting the pistachio crumbs.
hear me out. will smith and a baker, i feel like itâs well established he can bake at this point and i think it could be cute to see him trying new recipes with her or asking for advice when he messes something up. possibly even meeting at an elevated cupcake experience?
pretty and a baker ! đ°
will smith x baker!reader
⤡ âI just wanna look into your eyesâ Meet Me At Our Spot - THE ANXIETY
ŕŞââ´đ :: 1-800-FANFICTION
â
a/n: ANON WHO REQUESTED THIS SWEAR I LOVE YOU SM IT WAS SUXH A CUTE IDEA I WOULD LOVE TO TURN THIS INTO MORE PARTS POSSIBLY IF YOU HVE ANY MORE IDEAS
đ
OR.. when will smith, a hockey player married a baker and she is responsible for anything baking related
when you married will, you knew two of your guys favorite things would be in your house: hockey and baking (mostly baking). will had picked up baking as a hobby over the off-season, he found it relaxing after mackâs loud voice and the sharks intense practice. it started off as banana bread will made for a team dinner, and he fell in love with the side hobby.
but in wills world, you were the real baker. the one he loved, the one he found pretty and perfect. will loved asking you to make some of your sweets for his events, and his teammates loved them. he also loved showing off that you were such a good baker.
whether it was him or you baking, he was extremely clingy. and everyone knew Will was such a sucker for you, but you being always in the kitchen with Ingredients scattered made it worse. not that you minded, of course.
â
one morning, will was making his banana bread and he frowned at the batter in confusion after mixing it and it looked funny. will looked back at you from the kitchen while you wer on the couch, scrolling.
âprincess, can you come over really quick, please?â will asked, you nodded from your phone, getting up and walking over, pajamas and all. will hugged you first, kissing you deeply and then let you go, leading you to his batter on the counter. âdoes the batter look correct, pretty?â and you examined it carefully.
âdid you forget something, will? it looks like itâs missing somethingâ you said, smiling up at him. Will hummed, thinking for a bit before perking up. will grabbed the brown sugar, and a measuring cup then handed both items over to you. âI forgot the sugar, can you add it? please, thank youâ will smiled at you expectantly and you smirked. of course, you did it and will couldnt help help but slide over behind you and snake his arms around your waist, kissing your neck while you worked.
âyour so beautiful, baby. especially when you look all pretty baking like thisâ will confessed, and you chuckled lightly. âIâm not even baking my own thing, will.â and will hummed at that, his chin now resting on your shoulder. âeven betterâ he mumbled, rubbing circles on your hips.
when you finally finished fixing it, will put it in the oven and then immediately grabbed your chin lightly, kissing you. will hummed, his arms slowly sliding down and up on your back. you laughed into his lips, and will pulled away, mumbling: âmy pretty bakerâ and then running his fingers in your hair.
âhow do you do it?â will asked, kissing your jaw lightly and then looking at you with his big eyes. you tilted your head in confusion, âdo what?â. will smiled, âbe so perfectâ and you hummed, pretending to think. âdunno, maybe itâs just natural.â and will laughed, guiding you over to the dining table and siting you on his lap. will gripped your thighs, then looked at you lovingly, his eyes softened. âI love you so much, my pretty princessâ and then will added âprincess of bakingâ.
â
one evening after will got back from a practice, you were in the shower. will entered the bathroom, something that he always did without permission because he knew you didnât mind. his hair was wet from a locker room shower, and his scent immediately filled the bathroom over the smell of your body wash.
âhi baby!â will exclaimed, putting toothpaste on his toothbrush and beginning to do his night routine. you smiled behind the curtain, humming. âhi, willâ you said, and will chuckled softly. âhaving fun under that warm water, baker girl?â and you chuckled softly. âI missed you, sweet girlâ will added, and then placing his toothbrush down. will left the bathroom, sitting on your shared bed outside the door, putting his pajamas on.
you got out of the shower, wrapping a towel around you and your wet hair stuck to your cheeks. your cheeks were a little blotchy and red, how they got after warm water. will looked up at you, then walking over and kissing you softly, humming. âmissed your pretty face, babyâ will said, pulling away and then walking over to your drawers to take out your pajamas with cookies on them.
will placed the clothes on the bed, covering his eyes and then you changed. ânothing I havenât seen before, but if it makes you feel betterâ will sighed, and you gave him a look he couldnât see. âyou literally chose to cover your eyes yourselfâ and will chuckled. âif you insist, Iâll lookâ he said. and when will uncovered his eyes, he saw you with a pair of pajamas with a them of cookies. he smiled immediately, wrapping his arms around your waist.
when you both got into bed, will turned toward you, smiling at you like he was about to ask for something. you sighed, already knowing what he wanted.
âwhose birthday is it, what color, what kind of cake, and what shall it say?â you asked, exaggerating the âshallâ. will hummed dreamily, âyouâre so perfect.â he said, explaining the cake order. âyeah yeah, okay, when do you need it?â will winced. âso.. tomorrow?â and you got up quickly, with an annoyed look. will smiled at you apologetically, and then yelled out to you âdont stay up to late!â and you groaned, âhow cant I?â you exclaimed back. will just smirked, getting settled in bed.
the next morning, when you gave him the cake in a box for him to bring to the early practice, he set it down and then kissed you until you ran out of breath. âyour the best, pretty girlâ. you rolled your eyes lovingly, and he gave you one last peck and then gathered his things. âiâm sure heâll love it, thank you, princess.â and you smiled at him. âI love you, my pretty bakerâ will said, and you said it back, practically pushing him out the door.
â
and when his teammate got the cake, he made sure to message you he loved it (will probably forced him to). you were satisfied, and loved having a hockey husband whom you can feed his teammetas as well, and will loved you. after all, you were wills perfect, pretty, baking wife as everyone knew.