#baking lessons

Sevika x Reader

Request by @prettyinpink69: Dumb reader x sevika. Reader has NO CLUE what she's doing and sevika is surprisingly really good at baking 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Summary: When a craving for your favorite childhood donut arrives, you ask Sevika to go grab some. Sevika says "We have donuts at home." Problem is, you don't know the first thing about baking.

Content: Domestic fluff, mild cursing, baking, and mild suggestiveness

Cross-posted to Ao3

Playlist used to write

It seems simple in theory. You’re just craving something a little sweet. Or maybe you just miss all the bakeries of Piltover. Either way, you’re flouncing into Sevika’s office, where she’s bent over and tinkering with her mechanical arm. 

“Vika…” You hum, planting your chin on her shoulder. 

She acknowledges you with an affectionate grunt, tilting her head to nudge yours while still primarily focused on her screwdriver. 

You smile at her. “How do you feel about a trip into Pilt-”

“Not a chance,” She interrupts. 

“...over,” you finish, and she doesn’t need to look up to know you’re already pouting at her. 

She sighs and sets down the screwdriver, spinning her chair so she’s facing you. 

“My next council meeting’s not until next week. What do you want from Piltover?”

You smile sheepishly at her, clasping your hands behind your back. 

“Well…” You start hesitantly before the thoughts in your head spill out of your mouth, “There was this bakery on the corner near my house that had these incredible creme donuts, and- I just got this craving-...”

She huffs a small laugh, shaking her head, her dark lips quirking up into a small smile. 

“You want to make a whole ass trip into Piltover… for some donuts?” She repeats, raising an eyebrow at you. 

Your face scrunches briefly in thought before nodding resolutely. 

“Well, my decision still stands. We’re not going into the city.” She stands, scooping her metal arm off the work desk and easily attaching it to her shoulder. 

Before you have a chance to protest, she gently grasps your chin and continues. “But we don’t have to.”

Your brows furrow. 

“Zaun isn’t exactly known for its baked goods,” you point out.

Sevika plants a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Doesn’t have to. We can make ‘em.”

She lets go and strides out of the room with the confidence only the head of Zaun could possess, leaving you scrambling after, suddenly rather nervous.

“We don’t- I mean- A trip to Piltover’s probably easier-” You splutter, ignoring the heat creeping up into your neck. 

She ignores you tossing open cabinets, placing bowls, flour, sugar, and more supplies you can’t even name. Her mechanical arm makes a series of clanking noises and suddenly the hand is swapped out with a pair of whisks, spinning and whirring. 

Well. Who’d’a thunk it. Big, strong, scary Councilor Sevika has portable baking attachments. 

“Bullshit, donuts aren’t that hard,” She dismisses, finally turning and catching sight of your sheepish demeanor. 

“You… do know how to bake… don’t you?”

You just smile apologetically and shrug. 

“Growing up, we just… bought them…” you explain, cringing internally at the way it sounds. Like you’re just another spoiled Piltie who didn’t have to do anything for herself. 

Sevika lets out a long-suffering sigh before waving you off. “Doesn’t matter. Like I said, it's not that hard. Grab the measuring cups from that drawer over there?”

You nod and diligently retrieve the tools, placing them on the counter. Sevika very carefully takes you through the process, step by step, saying things like Preheat the oven for just a few minutes to raise the dough and Don’t overmix, otherwise the texture will be completely off. You’d never say it to her face, but you know she’s treating you rather gently. It’s something you greatly appreciate. 

After throwing a kitchen towel over the bowl of donut dough and placing it into the warm oven, you turn to Sevika, grinning. It’s soft, but she’s smiling at you, too. There’s a quiet pride in her dark eyes as she watches you, and the look makes your chest swell with warmth.

You dust flour off your hands. The kitchen’s a mess; you’re a mess. There's flour all over the counters, the floor, the bowls, Sevika's arm, your hands, arms and face. There's a new pile of dirty dishes in the sink. But neither of you really mind. 

“Where’d you learn to bake so well?” You ask, moving over and leaning against her, resting your head against her chest. 

Her chin presses against the top of your head and she slings her arm around your shoulders. 

“My old man,” she explains. “Said we didn’t get the privilege of getting things handed to us, so we had to learn how to make things ourselves.”

Your face clouds with a little guilt, the doubt from earlier festering in your mind once again. 

Sevika sighs, “I didn’t mean-”

“No, no, it’s alright,” You say, shaking your head, feeling your hair brushing against her chin, “I get it. I’m learning.”

She pulls her face back, tips your head up, and gives you a kiss. Her hand lowers to your hip and she smoothly flips you both, so your lower back presses against the edge of the counter. 

You have an hour and a half of rise time to kill, after all. 

~*~*~

It took a long time, and lots of lessons, but you did eventually get the hang of it, shadowing Sevika in the kitchen whenever you got the chance. And, when her birthday rolled around, you woke her up with possibly the messiest cake she’d ever seen. 

I would so love to give you a clear cut answer. The short answer is I’m working on it!

The longer explanation is two fold. First, I’ve essentially been writing the same long fic for almost 3 years and I hit a burn out point. Second, Baking lessons was supposed to be a one shot, but then I found more and more threads on the story I wanted to pull on and it’s been helping me flex my creative muscles in new ways.

Buck decides that baking what he knows isn't enough, its not enough of a distraction. So he decides to take a series of cooking classes, lead by an absolutely stunning chef, who of course asks Buck out after a few classes.

@lukadrien-june

Read it on AO3: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Twenty-Two:  25,913th Time’s the Charm

Luka came into the main cabin to find the kitchen an absolute mess.

Mixing bowls, cookie sheets, and ingredients were left sitting out, and no one had bothered to wipe down the counters after a baking adventure plainly gone wrong.

Luka frowned at the carnage splattered on the overhead cabinets and even the refrigerator door. He dreaded getting any closer for fear that it would only get worse the more clearly he could see it.

Mentally steeling himself to clean up the wreckage, he wondered who could have left the place like that. Adrien and Rose were the chief users of the kitchen outside of family mealtimes, but they always made sure the area was spotless afterwards. Anarka, Juleka, and Luka occasionally did something ambitious in the culinary department, but, typically, they prepared simple dishes like soups, sandwiches, and no-fuss entrees that didn’t cause such a mess.

Maybe the Capitaine had decided to try a baking project but got distracted and wondered off before she could finish?

Luka circled around the counter into the kitchen and nearly jumped out of his skin when he spotted Adrien curled up in a ball in the corner by the sink.

Ao3

@adrinetteapril

Chapter 9: Baking Lessons

This was not going as planned. Adrien had managed to burn the first batch of cookies he was tasked with. He was only supposed to make sure they were in the ovens with a specific timer, yet he managed to switch the croissant timer with the cookie timer, underbaking the croissants and burning the cookies in one go.

He looked thoroughly dejected, with both Tom and Marinette giggling at the accident.

“Don’t worry, my boy.” Tom beamed, slapping his large hand against his back. “Marinette has done that so many times, I bet it could rival one day’s worth of profits!”

Marinette blushed as her disaster-prone self was ousted like that, but smiled when she noticed Adrien chuckling alongside her papa.

“The trick is to put one in, then time it correctly, before putting the next batch in, and setting the timer for that. If you rush, you’ll mess everything up.”

“Noted. I yeast I’m not as bad as Marinette. I could chip some danishes or something like that.” He punned out in succession, prompting a groan out of Marinette.

“Seriously? Three puns in one breath!”

“What’s the matter, macaron? I think he’s on a roll!”

“No… No! Papa. No!”

“Papa, yes!”

The timer on their phones rang out, signaling they had ten minutes left until classes began for the afternoon.

“We should go, Tom.” Adrien acknowledged, removing his apron and hanging it on the hook. He followed Marinette to the sink to wash their hands as Tom tossed in another batch of cookies.

“No worries. You know, it’s nice to have another man around the kitchen. Since you are constantly here, maybe I can give you some baking lessons. You could be a great assistant one day. Even run the family business!” Tom’s eyes widened in excitement, and Sabine chose that moment to walk in and tease her husband.

“Tom, we don’t want another Weredad incident, do we?”

Tom deflated as he noted his wife’s presence. “No dear, we don’t.”

“Good. Now kids, go gather your things and head to school. You don’t want to be late.”

“Yes maman.” Marinette replied, kissing her mother on the cheek before grabbing her backpack that was hidden behind the counter.

“Thank you, Sabine.” Adrien added, grabbing his own bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “I’ll definitely take you up on that offer, Tom!”

“Gladly. Next time, I’ll teach you how to make the dough!”

“Sounds like I will be kneaded next time you make it!”

“Ugh!” Marinette groaned out, grabbing onto Adrien’s hand and dragging him out of the bakery. “Bye!”

“See you soon!” Adrien added with a wave.

Both Sabine and Tom chuckled as the two walked to school, both smiling and wondering when they would see through the fog and make it official.

“When do you think they’ll cave? Sometime soon?”

“I say by the gala.”

“I think by the end of the week.” Tom thought it over.

“Usual stakes?”

“Of course! I want that new video game.”

“Sure dear. And I want that massage.”

“You’re on!” Tom shouted once more before stepping into the kitchen, the sounds of the timers going off all at once.

And here it is, the END!  If you need to catch up, part 1 can be found HERE  and part 2 can be found HERE.  This was a fun little ride for me, and I hope you enjoy it as well.

The bottom dropped out of Keith's stomach the second their lips made contact.  He'd like to say that time slowed to a crawl and that he spent the first seconds of their first kiss cataloging the feel of Lance's mouth, studying the way they fit together, memorizing his smell.  The truth was, time sped up, impossibly fast; Keith felt like he was moving faster than the speed of light.  Nothing registered other than want and oh my god but even just that was enough to leave him reeling.  He groaned softly into the kiss and clutched at Lance's waist, begging.  For what, he had no idea, but he knew Lance had it regardless and he was beyond desperate to have it.

Lance made an answering needy noise and parted his lips slightly.  The fingers he had wrapped around Keith's shirt kept opening and closing slightly, like he wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do with his hands.

The parting of Lance's lips was an invitation that Keith didn't need to be given twice.  He pushed his tongue into Lance's mouth eagerly, curling it over every surface inside randomly, indecisive about what parts to taste first.  Lance was sweet like the frosting he'd been sampling all afternoon.  That was the only coherent thought Keith could muster before everything became hot and slick and thinking was a thing his brain just...didn't anymore.

Lance whimpered softly and the movement of his lips and tongue became frantic.  He arched his body, obviously trying to get as close to Keith as physically possible.  He was acting like he couldn't quite get enough.

Instinct.  It was goddamned instinct that had Keith lifting his hands up to cup Lance's cheeks.  Hearing that distressed little noise, sensing the other boy's desperation, Keith's bone deep need to comfort him - those were the only things in the known universe capable of prying Keith's hands off of Lance now that he'd gotten them on him.  But without thought he'd cradled Lance's face, gentled the kiss into something playful and sensual with leisurely rolls of the tongue and lingering sucks replacing the frenzied, biting kisses of before, telling Lance with his actions and his body that he was here, he wasn't going anywhere, so there was no need to rush.  Because he sure the hell wasn't about to separate their mouths long enough to say it verbally.

Lance sighed into the kiss and his whole body went boneless, giving himself over to the languid, indulgent pace Keith was setting for them.  The corners of his mouth lifted like he was trying to smile even while his tongue was playing tag with Keith's.  He tipped his chin to change the angle and snaked his arms around Keith's waist.

Joy, fierce and debilitating, popped and crackled like fireworks in Keith's brain.  He leaned in, pressing his weight against Lance's body and forcing him back against the table.  Heat was building in his gut and his lower body was tingling - if they kept this up, he was going to have a situation to deal with.  God he hoped they kept this up.

Lance's arms tightened around Keith, pulling him closer and he opens his mouth wider to invite an even deeper kiss.

Keith shuddered and was just about to take Lance's unspoken invitation to lay further claim to his mouth, when they were interrupted.  Loudly.

"You have GOT to be kidding me," Hunk wailed dramatically from the doorway.

Keith pulled away from Lance reluctantly, even with their audience.  He could feel the blush creeping across his cheeks and he chose to watch Lance and the reactions playing themselves out across his face rather than turn and answer Hunk.

Lance groaned painfully.  "Hunk, my man.  Not the best timing here."  He pouted up at Keith.  Then Hunk's words actually seemed to register because he leaned around Keith to scowl at his friend.  "Also: what the fuck, bro?"

Hunk shuffled into the room and waved his arms wildly.  "I mean, it's about time and congrats and all, but if you want to talk about bad timing - your cupcakes are burning.  I thought you were supposed to be helping him pass this class."

"Shit!"  Keith scrambled away from Lance and toward the oven.  Now that his entire existence wasn't focused completely on Lance, Keith could smell the faint odor of overcooked baked goods floating through the air.  He pried the oven open and stared forlornly at the cupcakes.  They were definitely too dark.

Lance appeared next to his shoulder and groaned at the sight of the cupcakes, apparently reaching the same conclusion as Keith.  "Yep.  Those are fucked."

Sheepish grin firmly in place, Keith turned to look at him over his shoulder.  "Sorry," he whispered.

Lance smiled softly at him, a smile Keith had never seen before.  "Worth it though."

Keith felt his lips curl into something just as soft and sweet.  "Yeah?"  Not his most intelligent response ever for sure, but he was pretty sure Lance had managed to melt his brain with his tongue.

Lance bit his lip and nodded.  "Completely," he answered.

"Do either of you plan on taking the cupcakes out of the oven?  Or do you plan there smiling at each other like idiots until they catch on fire?"  Hunk questioned from somewhere behind them.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, Keith took the pot holder Lance handed him and pulled their failed cupcakes out of the oven.  "Shit," he repeated.

Lance poked at one of the cupcakes with a thoughtful expression.  He turned to look at Hunk.  "Maybe they'll be alright with the icing on them?"

Hunk raised a doubtful eyebrow at that.  "Yeah, I don't think those can be saved."

Lance pulled his phone out and frowned at the display.  "Fuck.  Mrs. Haggar said we could only have the kitchen for an hour and a half this afternoon - and you know what a witch she can be about rules.  That's not enough time to make another batch."  He sighed, looking truly upset.  "What are we going to do?"

Keith knew intellectually that he should be worried about the fact that if he failed this assignment was the only thing that would salvage his grade this semester and it looked to be a complete disaster in the making, he really knew that.  Only, he couldn't stop feeling warm and flustered at the way Lance had just said "we" instead of "you" without hesitation.  He shrugged.  "I can just take the F.  It's not a big deal."

Lance stared at him like a he was a moron.  "Uh, yeah it is.  C'mon man, if you flunk out of fucking Home Ec then Iverson wins.  Do you really want to let that d-bag beat you with fucking cupcakes?"

Hunk groaned.  "The melodrama is strong with this one."

Keith raked a hand through his hair.  "I'd do them at home, but I don't have all the pans and stuff."

Lance bit his lip and smiled kind of shyly up at Keith.  "You could come do them at my house.  If you wanted."

A grateful smile stretched across Keith's face, even as a few dirty ideas about what else they could do too flooded his imagination.  He opened his mouth to reply enthusiastically in the affirmative and -

"No," Hunk cut him off.  "Absolutely not."  He slashed his hand through the air like a blade to emphasize his point.  "As glad as I am that the two of you have finally gotten your shit together, I cannot trust you two to actually bake any cupcakes and not just make out instead."  He smiled.  "We'll go back to my house and I'll help you make sure your boyfriend doesn't flunk Home Ec.  You don't have a double boiler anyway Lance."

Lance smiled brightly over at Hunk.  "Thanks buddy, you're the best."

It was sort of obvious how neither of them protested the "boyfriend" comment, even though they hadn't actually gotten around to talking about where this was going before getting their mouths on each other.  Keith nodded over at Hunk and said, "yeah, thanks," because he couldn't think about that other thing without spontaneously combusting right now.

Hunk smiled wide and rubbed the back of his head.  "Yeah, sure."  Then he frowned a little.  "I'm not helping you clean this mess up though."

Keith shrugged, feeling very magnanimous for some reason.  "Fair enough."  He turned to Lance.  "You ready to do this?"  It was supposed to be a joke about dealing with the frankly abysmal state of the Home Ec kitchen, but Keith feared it came out far more serious and nuanced than he meant it to.

That same soft, sweet smile flittered over Lance's lips.  "I was born ready."  Despite the obvious humor in the response, it also came out a little too sincere to simply be a flippant quip.

"Good," Keith breathed out.  "Then let's get started."  Lance's answering smile told Keith that he they'd already started something and Keith felt giddy at the prospect that this was just the beginning; he couldn't wait to see where they went from here.