#bakeryau

Tuck in, everyone! It's time for a feast!

All You Knead Bakery starts heating up fast when Frazier’s old school crush, Brie, and his long-time rival, Rye, come back to their hometown, both confessing their love… for him!

Sugar on Top is a fluffy erotic comic celebrating secret crushes, reconnecting with old flames, and learning that sometimes love has no boundaries.

A Red String Bakery AU that asks the question, “what if they all just kissed?”

Read it exclusively at https://filthyfigments.com/

Summary: They have been friends since Reader opened their bakery next-door to Bucky’s shop. One night after baking together, things change [Bakery AU].

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader [bit of a beefy!baker!bucky]

Word Count: ~3.7k [um what have I done?]

Song: All I Ask by Adele

Warnings/Tropes: Friends to lovers, fluffy, bakery AU, pining, lots of pet names (i.e. doll, baby, honey), cursing, shit grammar [please I’m trying]

a/n: If you are reading this, hi there! I hope you like it! I’m not a writer, but I wanted to write something for the lovely Samantha (aka @samthemarvelfan )! This is for her Scenes From A Song challenge and I had to join in. I haven’t written anything in this perspective [or for Bucky] before today, but I hope you find some enjoyment from this! <3

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Rain pelts against the bakery windows as the gloomy night sky wreaks havoc in Brooklyn. The sound, although erratic, was soothing in the nearly empty shop. You yawn, closing your eyes for a moment. The broom in your hands dips as your sweeping motions become lazy.

Sunday’s are your favorite days. It’s when you prep and restock your bakery. The habitual pattern of constantly sweeping, kneading, and icing would make days like this seem dull to others. But for you it’s perfect. Especially since you started a tradition last year: A seasonal baking competition with friend and fellow baker, Bucky Barnes.

You prop the broom against the counter and shuffle your feet across the clean tiled floors. The clock hanging above the counter ticks. 12:58am. Well. Happy Monday, you yawn again. 

A squeal of excitement from outside catches your attention as soaked figures dart past your shop. They weave through the flooded sidewalks in an attempt to hide from the downpour. You sigh, knowing in just another hour you’ll have to trudge through the same rain. 

“Need any help?” The sturdy voice breaks through the weather’s white noise.

Bucky casually props his elbows on the quartz counter and leans over the workspace. The movement dips his dark mid-length hair out from behind his ear, framing his stubbled jawline.

“Me?” 

“Unless there’s another flour covered baker hiding out here, then yes, you.”

Hi so this is like my first post on this account really hi I am Moss im working on an about me page but for now just check my twt if you have any questions. 

This is my first time writing in a really long time and it has not been edited so please be mindful, constructive criticism is apricated being mean is going to hurt my feelings </3, now with that being said enjoy

Jason was finally the only one opening the family bakery this morning, The shop gets extra busy in the winter months when everyone's home for the holidays. Jason had to have his sister Thalia and his best friend Reyna help with the extra morning rush. Now though, the holidays are over which means Jason can be back to his happy place! Thalia and Reyna are great company but Jason loved opening alone the calm vibes of the shop before the rush is a peace that is unmatched by anything else. 

As he pulled up to the store he was frustrated to see there was an old rusted black Cadillac parked right where Jason usually parked. He sighed, he parks in that spot almost every day of the week but then decides to let it go. Nothing's going to ruin my open! He decided before parking around the block. Jason got out of his car and locked it, he didn't really mind having to walk a couple of blocks to get to the shop, there was a light drizzle that freckled over Jason's cheeks keeping his senses sharp, The breeze that shook through his coat was almost relaxing to him. He made sure to glare at the Cadillac as he unlocked the bakery door, making sure to relock as he got inside. 

(I had a fic planned out that was a bakery!AU where Charlie went on medical leave and Cas ended up replacing her. I never finished the story but this was a snapshot of a panic attack scene I had written. TW for the panic attack)

“Dean,” Charlie said over the speaker, her voice crackly from the other end of the line, “you told me once that I was everything to you. That my happiness was infinite and nothing should stop me from reaching the impossible.”

“Of course, Char,” Dean said slowly, leaning against the counter, the evening rush dying down and the store almost void of customers since they were closing up soon. Cas was steaming milk for some college chick’s latte absentmindedly, ready to disinfect for the end of the night. “But what’s going on?”

There was silence on the other end, and Charlie took a deep breath. 

“I’m quitting, Dean.”

What felt like ice literally rushed through his veins. 

“Wh...what?” Dean stammered, his grip tightening around the phone. 

Charlie paused, as if collecting her thoughts. “Dean,” she said softly, “this whole accident with tetanus really gave me a reality check. I love you - you know that. You’re like my brother and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. But at some point… I have to start loving myself like that, too. I wasn’t gonna work at Sweet Serendipity forever, you know this.”

He did know this. 

But she wasn’t supposed to quit while he was dancing on the fine line of closing his business. 

“My passion isn’t being a barista,” Charlie continued, her voice shaking. “It’s coding. I went to school to be a computer engineer, Dean, and Meg… well, she’s been introducing me to a lot of people while I’ve been in recovery. People who know their way around the industry and can get me to where I want to go. I mean, have you heard of Roman Enterprises? Dude, they want me on their regional staff!”

Shit, Roman fucking Enterprises wanted her?

“They do?” Dean asked weakly, the color draining from his face. 

“Yes!” Charlie exclaimed, unable to hide the excitement from her tone. “I went for an interview the other day-”

“Hold on, you went in for an interview?” Dean asked. 

Charlie froze, her voice falling silent. “Dean,” she rasped, “I’m so, so sorry. But this is something I have to do. For me.”

He wanted to scream. 

He wanted to yell and kick the counter until the wood splintered under the toe of his boot and blame the whole world for everything that was ruining him all at once.

But he couldn’t, because Charlie deserved better than that. She deserved love and support, neither of which he thought he could give her right now. 

“I got it,” he muttered, his throat dry and for some reason his eyes glazing over. His breath felt like it was caught in his chest, unable to escape. “But I have to go.”

“Dean-”

“Talk to you later, Charlie.”

“Dean! Y-”

He ended the call, his brain feeling foggy and his breath short. He leaned over the counter, bowing his head and digging his knuckles into the wood. 

“Dean?” Cas asked, wiping up a bit of espresso he spilled on the counter, throwing the towel over his shoulder. 

But his mind was numb and he couldn’t answer. Everything seemed to be crashing down on him at once. He just lost one of his employees and rent was due at the end of the week. 

How the fuck was he gonna get himself out of this one?

Why was this happening?

He was gonna have to close down the cafe; he’d have no source of income!

God, what about Sam? He couldn’t face him!

He couldn’t ask for help!

He couldn’t fail; he couldn’t move to California and bother Sam and his sister-in-law! His life was here in Kansas!

What about his apartment? He couldn’t pay rent there either!

He was gonna lose everything. 

He was gonna die. 

He was dying. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

He was drowning underwater, and he didn’t know which way to swim for air; every direction was suffocating. 

He was dying. 

He was dying. 

He was-

“Dean!” Cas exclaimed, kneeling next to Dean, knocking him out of his daze and back to reality, the fog in his head clearing slightly as tears poured down his face. He was still suffocating; he couldn’t breathe. 

It was so dark, but the sunlight had never been so bright despite the fact the stars were out. He couldn’t see where the counter was and the tile underneath him seemed to sting his skin. 

“Dean,” Cas said again, his tone gentle, but clear, “look at me.” 

Dean pried his eyes off the floor, his fingernails digging into his palm and creating dark red crescent marks in his skin. His entire world was shaking. 

“You’re not breathing, you’re hyperventilating,” Cas told him, looking like he was repressing his own bout of panic despite Dean’s emotions. “I need you to breathe with me.”

Dean wasn’t even taking in oxygen, every breath coming out of his mouth was harsh and his heart was still racing, his face flushed and coated in tear tracks. Could he breathe? He wasn’t sure. 

“Inhale,” Cas told him, taking a deep breath with him. “And hold it with me.” Cas put up one finger, then two, then a third, then a fourth. “Now exhale.” Dean let his breath out harshly as Cas put each finger down, one at a time. “Hold your breath.” Cas instructed him again, counting the seconds on his fingers so Dean could see them, one at a time. They continued this a few more times, alternating between taking shaky breaths of air in, holding, then forcing them out. 

Dean wasn’t even sure he could focus. 

But Cas needed him to, right?

“Dean, where are you?”

Dean breathed harshly out of his mouth, looking around the empty store. 

“I’m… work,” he said weakly, knowing he wasn’t saying the words right. He couldn’t process them correctly. He just wanted to collapse.

The lack of oxygen seemed to be numbing his brain again as his breaths began to quicken again, Dean sliding down the side of the counter his back was against onto the floor. He was stuck there. He couldn’t get up. 

“Dean,” Cas said gently, “look at me.”

Dean couldn’t. 

He wanted to dissipate into nothing. 

“Dean,” Cas tried again, carefully placing a hand on his shoulder. Dean flinched at the touch and Cas pulled away quickly, hesitating before speaking again. “Was that bad?” He asked. 

Dean shook his head, thinking that it was just unexpected. He didn’t even know he had a choice in saying he wanted Cas right now. 

Did he want Cas?

He just wanted this to go away. 

Cas put his hand on Dean’s back cautiously, sitting with his legs crossed on the floor right beside Dean, the privacy of the store isolating both of them. 

“Dean, what… what color is your car?” Cas asked him slowly. 

His car? 

Baby?

That was an easy one. 

“Black,” Dean murmured, his eyes still shut tight and hot tears falling down his cheeks. “Baby is black.”

“You’re right,” Cas cooed, as if he was talking to a small child, “she is. And, hm, let’s see, do you know where we went to? When Benny said he couldn’t join us for drinks? That was a while ago, wasn’t it?”

Dean thought back to that night, the loud music of the club seemingly quiet in the back of his memory. “We went to the Eatery,” Dean said, the neon a more pleasant thought. Or maybe it was just his closed sign glowing into the store. “And we danced.”

“We did dance,” Cas chuckled, then paused, letting his hand travel under to Dean’s chin. “Dean, look at me.”

He didn’t force his gaze up, but rather lifted his finger at the same time Dean raised his head. Dean was in control. 

“What color are my eyes?” Cas asked softly, his other hand resting on Dean’s shoulder. 

He paused, studying Cas deeply. 

“They’re blue.” Dean finally whispered. 

“You’re right,” Cas said, just as quietly. “They are blue.”

Both of them were quiet, looking at each other without speaking. It was like the moment was frozen in time. 

“I can leave if you want me to,” Cas told him. “But you have to promise me that I can leave you. That you’re okay for me to do that.”

Dean bit his lip, never shifting his gaze from Cas. “I’m gonna be alright,” he breathed, “but… I want you to stay with me.”

Cas couldn’t hide the smile pulling at his lips. 

“Of course I will, Dean.”

~

He wasn’t exactly sure how, but he clearly remembered his head hitting the pillow, the taste of cool water still fresh on his lips.  

And it was warm. 

Cas was warm. 

He was safe in his arms. 

pairing: louis/harry

wordcount: 81,459

I am! But I think I’ll save the rest of the ones I received for this next weekend. It was a fun way to spend my downtime at work. 

After the last prompt I filled, I decided I need to end my day on a fluffy note. Have some sweetness! ~*~

Tim bites his tongue as he concentrates on carefully icing the delicate cupcake in front of him. It’s a special order for a wedding and he wants each one to be perfect. Stephanie teases him for being too intent on his decorating but it’s the meticulous nature of it that appeals to him in the first place. That and the creative freedom. He still can’t believe he runs a small business — and a bakery to boot. How far the Drake name has fallen. Whatever, Tim’s happy and that’s all that matters. He took what little inheritance he got after his parent’s death (that survived the conservatorship while he was in the foster system) and promptly invested it. Baking always served as an escape for him, and his foster grandma encouraged it and taught him all kinds of things, so after he graduated high school, he went to culinary school to become a pastry chef. The intense pace of restaurant life didn’t suit him, so he sold all his stocks and bought a food truck where he started selling cupcakes and other easy to make (but no less delicious) baked goods. Thanks to his tech savvy, Tim maintained a strong presence on social media and soon his business grew. After six months, he hired Stephanie as his baking assistant and they hit it off fabulously, with her bright energy contrasting nicely against his somewhat intense personality. And now, here he is with his own storefront. Stephanie still takes the truck out during peak hours but now Tim stays behind for the most part to hide in his kitchen and simply create. Customers occasionally interrupt but most of his work now comes from special orders. Like the six dozen black forest cake cupcakes with a dark cherry filling and a blood red buttercream frosting dusted with edible gold glitter. They’re for a gothic inspired wedding, which Tim finds awesome. If there’s one thing he’s learned over the last few years, it’s the eclectic crowd that inspires his creativity the most. “Tim!” Steph all but shouts as she comes bursting into the kitchen. He’s used to it so he barely startles and keeps working. “Oh. My. God. You won’t believe who just walked in and asked for you.” “Let me guess. Mickey Mouse?”That earns him a smack upside the back of his head. “No! It’s Jason Wayne.” It takes a moment for the name to sink in. When it does, Tim drops his piping tube. “You’re shitting me.” Jason Wayne. Second son (adopted) of Bruce Wayne. Formerly Robin and now Redwing. Tim is a fan. A massive fan. He’s been a fan of Robin since he first figured out Dick Grayson was Batman’s sidekick at the tender age of 9. But Jason…Tim always kind of considered him his Robin, especially after the night he rescued a younger Tim from some gang on his way home from the library late one night. His foster family didn’t live in the best part of town but it wasn’t the worst either. “I know!!” Steph all but squeals as she shoves him toward the door. “He says he has a special order he wants to run by you. Now get out there!” She picks up the piping bag to take over. The cupcakes have to be done in a couple hours. Tim stumbles through the door but he still takes a moment to glare back over his shoulder at his friend and assistant. “Just be careful with those!”“Since when am I not? You taught me how to do it, Mr. Picky-Pants.” His ears burn as Tim turns around to greet his famous customer. Of course he heard that. Jason leans casually against the counter and grins at him. “She’s feisty, huh?”“You have no idea.” Tim rubs his hands on his icing smeared apron and grimaces when they’re still red. “Uhh, excuse me if I don’t shake your hand.”“Don’t worry about it. A little icing never hurt anyone.” Jason holds out his hand. “I’m Jason Wayne.”“I know,” Tim replies and then blinks. “Umm. Sorry. Tim Drake.” He shakes Jason’s hand. It’s big and warm and wow, there’s a lot of scars on his knuckles. Jason must notice where Tim’s eyes land. “I box and do some MMA,” he offers. “Oh. Yeah.” Tim reluctantly lets go and tries to put his business face on, much to the dismay of his inner fanboy who is screaming and bouncing in glee at meeting one of his heroes. “So! Steph says you want me to make something for you?” The taller man chuckles easily. He must be used to this. “I am. Normally we have Alfred make cakes, but he just broke his foot and he’s getting up there in age, so I thought maybe we’d contract out this year.” “Oh? What’s the occasion?” “Damian’s 15th birthday.” Jason doesn’t sound enthused. Even Tim’s heard and seen stories about how challenging the youngest Wayne (and current Robin) is. “Gotcha. So, teenager then.” His wheels are already turning. He grabs a pad of paper and a pencil and then heads over to a small table in the front of the shop. “Come into my office,” Tim jokes. Jason takes a seat, his long legs sticking out from either side of the table. The denim of his jeans strains over his incredibly muscular thighs and Tim does his best not to whimper. But it’s hard because the man just hits every single one of his buttons. It’s not fair.“What does Damian like?”The question garners an eye roll from Jason. “Sharp pointy objects. Art. Dogs. Any music that involves a symphony orchestra.”Tim’s done dog cakes before and even one that resembled Monet’s garden, which had been a bitch and a half. “So, a violin perhaps? Oh! Maybe a throwing star! Does he like ninja?” He gets all excited and starts sketching, completely missing the sharp look Jason gives him. “He hates ninja, but loves throwing stars. He’s got a few,” the man replies cautiously. But Tim’s in the zone, drawing a design for a modified star-shaped cake and sharpening the edges, tightening some lines and widening others. “I haven’t seen one since I stopped watching Naruto, but I think it’s something like this.” He shows Jason the drawing. He stares at it a moment before grinning broadly. “That looks fucking awesome. You think you can pull it off?” Tim scoffs. “I don’t see why not. It’s laying flat after all. Unless I can get it to stand…” the wheels start to turn again but Jason brings him back to the present by actually waving his hand in Tim’s face. “Slow your roll there, Timmers. Flat is fine.” “Oh. Okay.” He can’t help the slightly disappointed feeling that he won’t get a chance to really show off for his favorite Robin. Tim forces himself to focus. “So what kind of flavors does Damian like?”Jason rattles off a list of some definitely uncommon tastes, but by the end, Tim only has one idea and he can’t wait to give it a try. “I wonder if I can make a spiced chai cake.” “That…that would be awesome if you can pull it off.” Jason sounds impressed. Tim is already making a shopping list as star anise and cardamom aren’t spices he keeps on hand. “I’ll have to make some samples to see how it turns out. Are you available at all for a tasting?” Another really important question comes to mind and Tim brushes his bangs away from his face. “When do you need this by?” Jason’s staring at him in bemusement. “Two weeks. I know it’s short notice with what I saw online but I was kinda hoping maybe you’d make an exception.” Tim laughs at him. “I’m making Damian Wayne’s birthday cake. Even if it’s just for a small party, that kind of exposure is huge for a little business like mine. I’d be a fool not to.”“In that case, I can stop by next week for a tasting,” Jason says and stands. This meeting is apparently over, at least for now. “That should be plenty of time. This is going to be fun.” Tim knows he sounds eager and doesn’t care.

Jason smiles again, and Tim wants to just melt because it’s so unlike the playboy smile he sees on TV or his Instagram feed (because of course he follows Jason Wayne). “You really like a challenge, don’t you?” he asks.

“I love a good challenge,” Tim agrees, grinning back at his hero.

“So do I.” Jason hesitates, then reaches out and runs his thumb over Tim’s cheek. It comes back red, which Tim swears could probably be from the amount of blood rushing to his face because Jason just touched him. “You always covered in frosting?”

For once, Tim’s brain lines up with his mouth and he says something that sounds clever. “Only on special occasions.”

Or not.

But Jason smirks and raises his thumb to his mouth, the tip of his tongue darting out to taste the red frosting that has apparently been on Tim’s face the entire time they were speaking. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He takes the pencil and pad of paper from Tim and writes something on it before handing it back. “See you soon.”

Tim stands there petrified as Jason walks out and drives away in an absolutely sick red car that screams money and horsepower. Once he’s out of sight, he looks down at the pad of paper.

There’s a phone number written next to his picture. More importantly, there’s a little note in a bold print.