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demusewriter · 9 months

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Baked with Love

Summary: You once dreamed of having your bakery where everyone could use it as a safe refuge from reality, similar to the shop from your childhood. It seems to work as one of the famous boy groups uses it to hang out to temporarily escape the spotlight, especially by one member who seems to be fond of the place. Genre: Fluff Pairing: Idol! Jungwon x Baker Fem! Reader Word Count: 6.3k Warnings: Slow-burn (?); the reader is slightly oblivious; mutual-pinning (?); the introduction is too long, it took 1k words before Jungwon is introduced lol; the reader and Jungwon is both in their mid-20s Author's Note: This is my first time writing fanfic, so I apologize if the story does not fit to your liking. 😅 English is also not my first language, so forgive me for the wrong grammar and lack of vocabulary. 😔 I will try my best next time. ☺ Regardless, I'm hoping that you all will like this. Enjoy reading! ☺

Ever since you were a child, you've been wanting to own a bakeshop. You remember how you accidentally stumbled into this shop when you tried to hide from the kid who constantly bullies you. Your trembling body and the constant sob that came from your mouth magically disappeared when you saw a bunch of colorful pastries displayed on those shiny glass cabinets.

You recall how the sweet aroma of freshly baked cookies engulfs your small body with a sense of comfort, and the soft jazz music that plays in the background whispers in your ear, easing your fear.

"Why is such a pretty young lady having a sad look on her face?" `You look up to the source of the soft voice, and your eyes settle on the old lady on the counter with a warm, gentle smile on her face. You intertwine your little hands and shyly look down.

"I am hiding," you mumbled.

"Hiding?" You nodded. You heard a footstep coming near you, then a gentle hand rubbing your small back.

"Why don't you eat something while you hide?" You look up once again at the lady. You see how those wrinkles stretch with the soft smile she has on her face; that softness somehow brings security to you.

"Cookies?" you said in wonder. The lady let out a giggle when you spoke with sweetness, your eyes twinkling in the process. How can she turn down such a cute lady like you?

"Yes, cookies! And you can also have some of those sweets that we have!" You wipe your teary eyes, then hold the hand of the old lady and let her guide you to the rest of the shop with the widest smile on your face.

At that moment, the little Y/N always finds herself munching on sweet pastries in the old lady's bakeshop. The shop becomes your escape, which eases your worries about the bullies. In return, you try to assist the old lady with baking by simply putting flour on measuring cups, cracking eggs, and sometimes kneading the dough.

However, the shop that had grown to be your safe refuge was lost when the old lady died from sickness. Due to this, the bakery has to be taken down, as no one claims to continue the business. You remember crying for days because of the sudden loss of the person you adored and the shop that became your home.

That event brings blossoms to your dreams of having a similar cozy shop where people entering the place instantly light up their eyes when they are greeted by rows of pastries that you freshly bake with passion.

You looked up to the small shop where there were tables outside, each with a brown vintage-style umbrella with brilliant lighting inside. You smiled when you saw the big signage that left you sleepless for nights from thinking of a perfect name for the shop.

'Sweet Greets Bakery'

As you make your way through the transparent door, a blanket of the sweet smell of baked pastries engulfs your now-grown body bringing back your childhood memories of the old lady's bakeshop. You also smell the roasted coffee beans that saturate the air.

As you grow older, coffee becomes your best buddy every time you pull all-nighters, which becomes endless when you enter college. Drinking coffee also helps you relax your mind while reading your favorite book on weekends, which fuels your growing addiction.

Because of this, you consider offering various coffee and tea drinks that will perfectly match the pastries that you bake.

"Noona?" You looked at the counter and saw one of your employees with wide eyes. You chuckle at his reaction like he has seen a ghost.

"Hi!" You greeted as you joined him at the counter.

"You're back!" He joyfully exclaims and even claps in excitement. A door from the storage room burst open, slightly startling you. You saw two ladies emerge from the room with the same disbelief on their faces.

"Unnie!" You let out a giggle when they engulfed you in a bone-crushing hug. You wrap your arms around the two teenagers and return the gestures while swaying their bodies from side to side.

"We miss you!" Narae one of your employees pouted. You playfully flick the girl's head.

"I'm only gone for a week, 'Rae"

"Still" she mumbles while massaging her forehead. You only shook your head at her silliness and reached for the brown cap under the counter that was similarly worn by the three teens.

"How's Switzerland?" Chuwon asked while drying the mug using the table napkin designated for it.

"As usual, loaded with work." You sigh. Owning a bakery is your ultimate dream, and you did achieve it. However, the process of getting you where you are right now is a rough path. You apply for different jobs and dribble tons of tasks to save money for your dream shop, and up until now, you’re still doing it to keep your business running.

And it happens that one of the jobs for which you apply requires you to travel to different places. It gives you a lot of money, so you have no problem with it. Although it somehow makes you feel sad as it lessens your time to spend working on your bakery.

"Did you find yourself a potential Swiss boyfriend?" Seoyun asked while wiggling her eyes, helping you to divert your attention from stressful work. You pulled your tied hair on the hole at the back of the cap and slightly tugged the visor to adjust it in your head before sending the girl a playful glare.

"I have no time for that." A disappointed groan erupted from the three teenagers at your reply. You only chuckle and shake your head while continuing to put on your brown apron. Being the only full-grown adult working in the bakeshop with the civil status of single, your young employees can't help but wonder about your romantic life.

But your reply stands true; you have no time to get into a romantic relationship.

Nevertheless, it does not mean that you will turn it down once you meet someone who captures your heart. You, yourself are a hopeless romantic. The books in the romance genre displayed on the bookshelves at the right corner of your shop say it all.

And if it happens that your 'the one' walks someday in your mundane then, who are you to deny. Right?

The sound of a bell chimes in, indicating that someone has entered the shop. You immediately smile and greet the customers with enthusiasm.

"Hello, welcome to Sweet Greets Bakery!" You bowed along with your three employees. You saw the seven young men return the gestures and proceed to the counter while looking at the menu drink display at your back and the pastries on the glass displays. You keep your genuine smile on while waiting for their orders.

You can't help but observe that every single one of them has different fashion styles, which you can easily identify by whether they are into casual style, semi-formal, aesthetic, or just want to wear comfy clothes. They have different tastes, but it seems like they all get along as they are in tune with each other while discussing their orders.

The only similarity they have at this point is that all of them wore facemasks that covered half of their faces.

"Good morning! We would like to order a three-chocolate chip Frappuccino, two iced Americanos, one vanilla latte, and a mint chocolate drink." You nodded at the guy who wore a snapback and quickly punched their order on the monitor in front of you.

"Would you like to add some pastries to match your drinks?" You ask politely. All of them look once again at the glass cabinets where the pastries are displayed.

"Ah, we'll take slices of chocolate and strawberry cake. That's all." You smile and completely place their orders.

"That will be 71,432.91 won." The men look in unison at the guy whose fashion style gives you rich uncle vibes.

The man flinches and then lets out a disappointed sigh while reaching for his pocket. He gives you his black card, and you quickly slide it at the card reader. You heard them all chuckle at the poor man and slap his butt for comfort.

"You can find comfortable seats while we arrange your orders. Thank you!" You gleefully thank them as you give back the card accompanied by a receipt and a small round pager with your two hands.

"I bet they're idols" Narae whispers beside you as you grind some coffee beans. You saw her staring at those men on her tippy toes to get a better look.

"How'd you know?" You wonder. Although you grow up in a country where being an idol is everyone else's dream and exposes people to that kind of industry at an early young age, you seem clueless about it. Guess your mind is so focused on building a bakery that you missed that part as you grew up.

And it seems that you're right when Narae looks at you like you just grew two heads.

"Unnie, look!" She simply gestures at the men who found themselves sitting in a secluded corner, quietly observing the interior of your humble shop.

"They are obviously wearing masks to avoid the crazy media" she pointed out.

"They're seated at the back of the shop, so fans won't notice them." Seoyun chimed in beside you.

"And they chose this small, unfamiliar bakeshop so no one would find their location" Chuwon added. The three squeeze themselves beside you, looking at the men while hiding behind a huge espresso machine.

"They're indeed idols" all of them whisper at you in unison. You shook your head at their silliness and poked their sides, which earned you squeals and giggles.

"Okay, okay. If they are idols, then we need to stop staring and leave them alone." You scold, to which you only receive a playful stick of their tongue before they proceed to help you with the orders.

While filling the cups with ice cubes, you can't help but glance at those men. Chuwon is right; your bakery is still unfamiliar since it is new and has only been running for five months. Although there aren't a lot of customers, you remain optimistic as your business has only just started.

If ever those young men are indeed idols, then you're glad they found your bakery a safe place to hang out, even just for a minute. That's been the main purpose of your shop: to become a safe refuge for everyone, even an idol. With those thoughts in mind, it made you smile throughout the day.

Weeks passed, those young men kept coming back to your bakeshop, to the point that you already memorized their regular orders. Due to this, your three employees become busy browsing the internet to find out which group these mysterious men belong to.

You put both of your hands on your hips when you saw the three once again inside the storage room, gathering in front of your laptop to find the identity of these men during their lunch breaks.

"I told you to quit doing that, you're invading their privacy." Your words fell on deaf ears when they didn't even give you a single glance. You sighed and decided to leave them alone. You proceed instead to stack the single pack of colorful macarons that you made last night.

"Oh my god!" Your head snaps back at the storage room where you hear the scream.

"Unnie, your bakeshop will finally become famous!" Narae squeals once you enter the room.

"What?" Your brows furrow.

"Noona! Those men are hella popular!' "Chuwon exclaims.

"They’re Enhypen!" The three shouted. You were startled by their loud voices, which made you put your hand on your chest to calm your beating heart.

"Okay," You calmly respond. "What's the connection of them making my bakeshop famous?" you dumbfoundedly ask.

"Unnie, if people saw them here in your shop, there would be plenty of customers who would come here to see them. And if they came here, they would also buy your delicious pastries because their idols seemed to like them for constantly coming here." Seoyun explains with matching exaggerated hand gestures.

"So you're saying we would expose them that they've been constantly hanging out here to make the bakery well-known?"

"Exactly!" The three of them exclaim in unison like you just announced that you won the lottery. Their faces lit up when you pulled out the sweetest smile you could muster.

"No." You flatly said. Their jaws dropped as they didn't expect you to disagree despite knowing that it would help your shop. Just like a light switch, your face suddenly turned serious.

"We're not going to use their vulnerability so we can gain something. Leave them alone and let them enjoy the privacy they have in this shop." You put back your sweet smile.

"If I ever find out that you all still did it behind my back, your vacation leave will be denied." You warned on sing-song and returned to the counter when you heard the chime of the bell.

And it seems that your threatening worked when more weeks passed and those men still went to your bakery without getting recognized or mobbed. You're thankful; however, the three are starting to become their fans that the only topic you can hear from their mouths is about the group's music, variety shows, and concerts.

The slow jazz that was used to play in the background in your shop? It was now replaced by the group's songs.

Although sometimes you find yourself humming and bobbing your head to their music.

But the soft jazz music makes a comeback to your bakery, as today is the start of the exam week. Meaning, the three crackheads are off duty as you did not allow them to work during the exam.

The shop is not that busy, so you have no problem handling the tasks alone for a week. As a good employer, you want them to focus on their studies without worrying about their work shift.

The day went by quickly, and the night sky was quickly blanketed with stars that stretched to infinity. The pale crescent moon started to shine like a silver claw, outshining the bright city lights.

The night just started; however, for your shop, it's closing time.

You often close your shop by 10 p.m., but since you don't have any staff around, you decided to close it earlier as it becomes dangerous for a lone worker to work at a very late hour, which you also strictly apply to your three employees, especially since they are minors.

As you neared the door to flip the 'open' signage to 'closed,' the bell chimed in for the last time. Then a man in his iconic orange hoodie steps into the shop.

"Hi, thank you for visiting, but we're closing early," you sadly informed. The guy's tired eyes flickered with sadness before he nodded and turned around without a word to reach for the door.

You felt your heart squeeze with sadness as you saw how tired his eyes were. Even though his face is hidden with a mask and a thick black beanie, you can practically imagine the dejection on his face. You felt like you had failed to fulfill the main purpose of your shop.

"But if you want, you can stay while I'm tidying the shop" you tried to offer. The man halted his step and looked at you with hopeful eyes.

"Is that alright?" He asked. His voice immediately sends a tingling sensation to your body that you cannot explain. This is your first time hearing his voice, despite him constantly coming into your shop since his friend often order for the rest of them.

His voice is so soft and soothing, yet it sounds very manly.

"Yup, it's not a problem," you quickly reassure him. You heard him heave a sigh and bow at you.

"Thank you." You smiled and returned the gesture.

"You want your usual?" You continued to flip the signage and went to the counter to prepare the food he usually orders.

"Yes, please." You give him a thumbs up and quickly arrange his meal.

Instead of sitting in the back corner, where he and his friends are usually seated, he opted for the table near the counter you were working on. For the first time, he removed his mask and proceeded to busy himself on the phone.

Although the group often visits your shop, they are still cautious about removing their masks; they only do it if the food is ready to dig in. So, seeing him remove it comfortably surprised you a little.

If you remember correctly from the various videos and images that are forcefully shoved in your face by your annoying staff, his name is Jungwon. He is Seoyun's bias, as she claimed that she was captured by his cute but manly features, his adorable yet savage personality, and mostly by being an amazing singer and performer on stage.

A complete package, according to Seoyun.

Even though you cannot confirm any of those claims against the man as you don't know him and don't pay much attention to the group's performances that your three employees are constantly watching, you can totally agree with one thing that Seoyun said.

He is indeed handsome.

"Here's your chocolate chip frappuccino and strawberry cake. Enjoy!" You smile as you serve the food on his table. For once, you saw him smile, and although you could tell it was a tired smile, that still didn't stop his dimple from showing and his eyes from forming into a crescent moon.

You quickly turned around like a soldier in training and tightly hugged the tray in front of your chest when you felt your heart suddenly beating like a horse on a race track. You don't know why your heart reacted to a simple expression, so you tried to shrug it off and didn't make it a big deal.

As you put the cake and pastries back in their respective containers before placing it in the refrigerators to preserve them, you take a quick glance at your only customer for the night.

You immediately stopped in your tracks when you saw him leaning on his knees with eyes closed while pinching the bridge of his nose.

From the look of it, he must have been stressed out about something that made him this exhausted. You felt a wave of sadness as you could practically imagine how tired he must have felt.

You can't help but wonder. 'Is being an idol can be this draining?'

Now, you were pondering whether it would be a good or bad idea to give him a slice of Oreo cheesecake that you baked yesterday to try to cheer him up. Plus, this cake is still not officially on the menu yet, so you can't help but overthink if he will like it or will find you weird as you try to offer him something.

As you paced back and forth inside the storage room while eyeing the poor cake, the bell rang from the counter which is used for the customer to call a staff member. You were startled by the sound and hastily put the sliced cake in the box.

"Done?" You politely ask when you see him waiting in front of the counter. He lightly smile and nodded in reply. You smile and punches his order to the monitor to compute the total of his purchase.

While waiting for the receipt to be printed out, your mind is still trying to contemplate if you're going to give him the piece of cake. You bit the side of your cheek when you gave him the receipt, and he started to make his way to the door. You sigh and give yourself a try.

"W-wait" you called out. He immediately turned around and gently raised his brows at you. You secretly pinch your side to give yourself courage. You left the counter and finally gave him the box.

"I can't help but notice that you seem quite a bit exhausted." You averted your eyes to the floor as you felt yourself getting embarrassed. "H-here's a piece of Oreo cheesecake to cheer you up a little" you nervously said, while slightly nudging the box at him.

"Oh, no. I've been intruding on you too much." He gently tried to refuse your offer. You shook your head and let out a genuine smile.

"Trust me, you did not. You're always welcome here, anytime." His face washes with gentleness, and it feels like some weight on his shoulder has taken off from the sincerity of your words. The softness of your voice made him smile, then he reached for the box and accepted it wholeheartedly.

"The stress has been draining my energy lately, so this will really help. Thank you." His appreciation made you smile and eased your worry earlier. Suddenly, your mind made a suggestion, just like a light bulb.

"Just a second." You quickly made your way back to the counter and tried to reach something on a cupboard with your tippy toes, which made Jungwon chuckle as he found you cute while doing it.

You mentally cheered when you saw the box of tea that you were finding. You went back where he stood and gave it to him.

"Here's a chamomile tea. This might help you relieve your stress." Your thoughtfulness brightens Jungwon's mood and quickly sends a warm feeling to his heart.

"Is there anything I can do to repay your kindness?" he asked. He cannot think of ways to express his gratitude, but if you request something, he will grant it devotedly.

You, on the other hand, were ready to decline and reassure him that he didn't need to do it when something popped an idea into your head once again.

"How about you give me your honest taste review of the cake?"

Ever since your interaction with Jungwon, you've started to get a little bit curious about him and his group.

At first, you just wanted to see current news or articles about them to find some answers about the reason he was exhausted that day. But now, you find yourself rewatching their performance videos on various music shows that Narae and Chuwon showed you before. This time you paid attention, and you got to admit, they are pretty good.

Especially, the guy with similar eyes of an adorable cat.

You can't help but get a little bit excited for their comeback, which is said in one of the newest articles you find about them. You came to the conclusion that this might be the reason behind the stress that Jungwon felt that night.

"Welcome to Sweet Greets Bakery!" You automatically greet without looking up when you hear the chime of the bell. You were so focused on putting the icing on top of the cupcake that you failed to notice a young man that you were just thinking about looking at you with full admiration.

"Would that be on the menu?" You looked up when you heard a familiar voice speak. Your smile immediately made its way to your face when your eyes made contact with his boba-shaped ones.

"Yup!" You put down the bag of icing you were holding and went to the counter where Jungwon was leaning over, ready to take his order. You looked at the back corner and saw his friends already seated comfortably there.

"The usual?" He nodded and let out a chuckle, as he found it amusing how you grew used to their presence. While you're busy punching their usual orders, he can't help but stare at you with softness in his eyes.

That night was the first time he actually paid attention to you. He might be hanging with his members here often, but he kept his interaction with anyone minimal as he didn't want to gain anyone's attention. But now that he got to talk to you, he can't help but regret those times that he could have used to get to know you.

Nonetheless, he was thankful that he made the right decision to go to your shop that night to unwind.

"Can I still have the slice of cake you gave me?" He shyly asked while rubbing the back of his neck. Your fingers stop pressing the items on the monitor, and you look at him with a hint of hope in your eyes.

"Did you like it?" Your question came in whispers, afraid to hear his answer about disliking your cake.

"The Oreo cheesecake was fantastic!" He looked up like he was trying to remember about its taste. "It felt smooth, and the sweetness definitely tasted like home," he praised, then he looked at it with full sincerity swimming in his eyes.

"I enjoyed every bite of it."

As the words hung in the air, the bulletproof shield around your heart trembled. Of course, you had heard compliments before, but none had touched you the way Jungwon's heartfelt words did. His simple compliment tore open a new doorway to your emotions, making your heart flutter like a trapped bird, banging against the confines of your narrow chest.

"So, I was wondering if it can be my usual order now?" He mumbled and lowered his head trying to hide his apple cheeks, which were blazing with redness.

Just like Jungwon, your cheeks are now a deeper shade of red, and your heart is still dancing in the confetti of admiration.

"B-but it is still not yet on the m-menu." You stutter as you put your attention on the monitor once again and slowly complete the orders. You bite your lower lip and look at the young men through your lashes. You tried to suppress your giggles when you saw a sad pout adorning his face.

"Though I can make an exception for you."

From the moment you handed him the slice of cake he specially requested. A friendship unexpectedly blossomed, stretching far beyond the typical baker-and-customer set-up. Jungwon, being the leader of a well-known boy group, felt comfortable letting go of his duties when he was with you inside your comfy bakery.

Soon, Jungwon's late-night visits to the bakeshop became a tradition.

"How many eggs should I put in again?" Jungwon asked you, clad in a brown apron similar to the one you were wearing.

One such evening, while you were discussing with him the recipe for your Oreo cheesecake, he suddenly got the idea to let you teach him the process of making it so he could use it as content in his short vlog and impress his Jay-hyung.

And so, you and Jungwon's baking adventure began. Your simple and quiet evening in your shop was now filled with laughter, occasional flour fights, and piles of failed cookies he tried to make. Slowly, you began to look forward to his late-night visit.

"You ready?" you asked him while you carefully took the Oreo cheesecake out of the oven, which he had solely made without your help.

With eyes closed, he nodded in anticipation.

"You can now open your eyes." Once his eyes did, his mouth slowly hang open.

"I made that?" You softly laugh when he eyed his cake with disbelief.

"Yes, you did!" You cheered. The cake really turned out great for his first attempt, you couldn't be even more proud of him. Jungwon jumps with happiness making you giggle.

He raised his hands at you, asking for a high-five, which you quickly reciprocated and clapped hands with him. You thought it was just a brief contact, but Jungwon decided to intertwined his fingers with yours and clasped them tightly.

A wave of unexpected electricity rushes through your veins and sends your heart to flutter.

Every time you spend your night with Jungwon, you always experience this peculiar feeling. Making the fluttering of your heart more frequent and pronounced. These little flutters seemed to build into a crescendo, filling your heart with a strange yet sweet emotion.

"Y-you want to t-taste it?" You quickly removed your hands from his hold and quickly turned around to find some utensils and to hide your flushed face from his heart-melting stares. As you did it, you failed to see how his face filled with disappointment from the lost contact.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungwon was also experiencing the same surge of electrifying waves within him. His insides also fluttered in a way he only felt when he first walked into the cozy, aromatic haven of your bakeshop.

However, this time, the butterflies were not from the sweet baked goods but from a newfound emotion he felt for you.

"Can you send me the cake instead" You halted your action when you heard his request. It was odd, however, you just thought that he wanted to show his members the cake he made. Although you're quite disappointed that you couldn't taste it.

"Sure, when would you like me to send it to you?"

"On February 9." That's three days from now; the usual span of the cake is 4 to 5 days before it expires. The cake will still make it.

"I'll take note of that." You smiled.

The slow jazz music that helped set the mood for your relaxing shop was short-lived when your three staff members returned after the long week of exams and a well-deserved vacation leave that you granted. You were judgingly watching them as they danced to one of Enhypen's songs while they arranged the chairs and mopped the floor.

"Omo! Jungwon is on live!" Your ears suddenly perked when you heard Seoyun exclaim. The two immediately surrounded the girl, who was watching something on her phone. You tried to stop yourself from joining them, as you didn't want to be seen as suspicious for having a sudden interest in him.

Although you somehow did.

You were saddened that he failed to visit the shop three days in a row, and you got to admit that you missed his presence, which slowly became part of your small shop. However, you understand that his job can be a little demanding.

Still, you're slightly thankful that he didn't suddenly show up, as your three staff members will literally scream with enthusiasm and confusion when they see him having a comfortable conversation with you since you never told them about your growing friendship with him while they were gone.

You got a little bit curious behind their giggles, so you tried to sneak a peek from behind them.

Indeed, you saw Jungwon, with a wide smile, having fun talking to his fans. On his back were blue foil curtains with silver balloons around them, while in front of him was the cake he made that you just delivered this afternoon with a cake topper and candles.

Then it hits you.

Today is his birthday.

"Where did I get the recipe for the cake? From 'Sweet Greets Bakery!' They sell the best pastries, yoii~"

You know your heart is in trouble when it automatically flutters like a kite in the wind at the sound of his voice, even if he is away from you.

The unusual skipping beat of your heart when you heard Jungwon's laughter at your dry jokes, the always-fluttering when he listened to you attentively, and the feeling like something was missing when he was away were so unfamiliar, yet they made your heart full of so much happiness and affection.

This realization shattered the protective wall around your heart that you had meticulously crafted. The only one thing that you had never felt before was happening.

You are in love.

You are falling in love with Yang Jungwon.

Eventually, words about Jungwon liking your bakeshop spread like wildfire, sending fans into a frenzy. Your shop, which was almost empty of customers, was now filled with people trying to taste your baked goods, especially the Oreo cheesecake.

It was overwhelming not only to you but also to your three employees, as this is your first time taking so many orders in a day. It is tiring, but it feels like it magically vanished every time you saw the genuine reaction of your customers at every bite they took from the pastries you passionately baked.

It was a long, eventful three weeks, but your heart is grateful.

You were just basking in the quiet surroundings, as you had already closed your bakery and let three teenagers go home earlier, when someone knocked on the door.

A bright smile immediately made its way onto your face when you saw Jungwon in his thick gray hoodie and dark bucket hat waving his hand cutely at you through the glass door.

"What are you doing here?" are the first words that come out of your mouth once you unlock the door.

"I was supposed to visit you earlier, but the bakery is quite busy." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "I really wanted to see you, so I came back."

You tried so hard not to put a meaning behind his words, but your heart seemed not to want to listen as it beat like crazy, and it feels like a cage of butterflies has been set free in your stomach.

"W-well, thanks to you, my bakeshop got a lot of recognition." You sincerely thanking him, even though you use it to try to ignore the last thing he said.

Jungwon felt his heart torn into pieces when you brushed off the words that reflected his overflowing affection for you. Yet, his heart is still filled with hope.

"You watched my live?" You were frozen from his question.

In fact, you did. Not the only part where you sneak a peak on Seoyun's phone but the whole birthday live. You personally made an account just to watch the replay of his live that day.

"I d-did" You averted your eyes. "Although it was a replay," you pursed your lips as you felt ashamed of yourself for doing it and letting him find it out.

Jungwon felt his heart jump with giddiness when you showed signs of interest in him.

"Yoi~" He adorably cooed and gently brushed his shoulder with yours. The sound of your giggles from what he did sends butterflies to his stomach.

"Oh, I have a surprise for you!" You exclaim after you remember the gift that you prepared for his birthday, even though his birthday was three weeks ago. You went to the storage room, leaving Jungwon full of anticipation.

Soon, you emerge from the room, holding your present for him. Despite the excitement of seeing his reaction, you were still nervous as it took you so many attempts to make your gift presentable. Plus, it was your first time making this design in your entire baking life.

However, your worries dissipated when you saw his mouth hang open in amazement at the cat-shaped cake that you were holding. You started singing him the birthday song while slowly making your way to him.

As you softly sang, his vision magically became blurry, and the only thing he could see clearly was your pretty face, which was always clad with gentle and genuine expressions. Your soothing voice is like a whisper in his heart that slowly dances and sways to its rhythm.

Those days that he couldn't see you, he felt something was missing. Your smiles, the melody of your laughter, and your comforting presence keep lingering in his mind. The only thing running through his head is to see you and spend his time with you once again.

The three long, agonizing weeks of not seeing you make his heart yearn for your presence, like a parched desert yearning for rain.

From the moment you hand him the slice of cake as an offer to relieve his stress, he knows he is down. Being away from you only confirms his feelings for you.

He is in love,

with you.

"Make a wish," you said after finishing the song. You expect Jungwon to close his eyes as he makes his wish, but your heart begins to race when he looks you in the eye, gazing at you with only a soft and gentle stare.

"I wish—" He removes your hold on the cake and carries it instead with one hand. Then, his other hand found its way to yours and slowly intertwined them without breaking eye contact.

"—I can spend the rest of my birthdays with you."

A torrent of emotions—warmth, joy, and love—fused together, igniting an electrifying light show within your chest. It feels like a burst of the sparkling fireworks display, not in the sky but in your heart.

You felt his thumb softly draw small circles in your hand, quickly sending tingles through your body.

"My bakery will go bankrupt from sending you birthday cake each year," you joked. Jungwon chuckled and gently squeezed your hand, still looking at you with sparkles in his eyes.

You pressed your palm on his cheek and rubbed your thumb against it with full affection, making him lean to your touch.

"Your wish is granted, Jungwon."

It was like both of your hearts exploded into an incandescent shower of feelings that mingled with the colors of the frosted night sky—a vivid, heart-pumping confetti of joy and love.

You both giggle at the strange way of confessing to each other. Although it was an odd confession, it was enough to convey the euphoric feelings you have for each other.

You and Jungwon's bond, baked and constructed in the 'Sweet Greets Bakery' hearth, had matured into love. From friends, you both seamlessly become lovers, with the love story orchestrated by fate and shared fondness for the bakeshop that brought you two together tying in the sweet, aromatic embrace of love forever.

Jungwon thought that the bakery was the only safe refuge he could have away from the limelight. He thought it was a place.

But it was a person.

You are his safe place.

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 3 months

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the dead ringer

buttercup, chapter three

a/n: yeah, this did happen to me in real life, although it happened on a bus so i couldn't immediately get away... ANYWAYS! enjoy this hurt/comfort heavy chapter!

summary: “I think I know something that might help a bit.”

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, crying, panic attacks, matt using his superpowers for the sake of hurt/comfort, boxing

word count: 2057

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Drizzling the flour into the wide bowl, like a dusty snowfall, you watched the number on the scale carefully as you neared the desired number. Though just before you hit it, Walter’s head suddenly poked in through the doorway leading behind the counter and interrupted you and Howard’s all-too-important discussion on what the day’s music choice should be.

“Hey, Y/n? There’s someone here to see you.”

Laying down the scoop still holding a bit of flour, you dragged your palms down the brown apron tied around your frame and exited the kitchen. A bright smile spread across your face and crinkled up your gaze as you spotted who was standing on the other side of the counter.

“Matt, hey–, oh my god,” you then suddenly noticed the bruising that blossomed out from under his tinted glasses and stretched up over the patched-up scrape that split his left brow, “what happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just wasn’t paying attention last night, tripped and fell, that’s all,” he waved a hand, “I just wanted to stop by on my way to work, get a round of coffees to-go for everyone and perhaps some breakfast for myself, just whatever you think I’d like.”

“You’ll let me pick?” your eyebrows rose slightly.

But Matt simply smiled and said, “I trust your judgment,” his grip shifted gently on the cane standing tall before his chest.

As you moved to make the coffees, “alright,” you drew out a pondering breath, “are you in the mood for something sweet or savoury?”

Thinking about it a second, he uttered, “savoury.”

“Do you like sandwiches?” you popped the lids on the to-go cups. When he nodded, you placed the coffees in a little cardboard tray, “okay, I think you’ll like this one,” grabbed a brown paper bag and moved further down the counter, “it’s made with focaccia and has pesto in it as well as some tomatoes and cheese and stuff.”

“That sounds amazing.”

“I also–, you know what? I’ll be right back,” you then abruptly turned and momentarily disappeared into the kitchen, grabbing a few of the pillowy buns still on the cooling rack into a bag. As you returned, you also snuck a hand into the display case and stuffed a few other goodies into the sack, “just for the others, if they want,” you placed the bundle onto the counter beside the coffees, “I just pulled them out of the oven a bit ago and they’re still warm.”

“What is it?” Matt tilted his chin.

“Uh, some raisin buns, but I also threw two croissants in there in case they didn’t like raisins...”

A soft smile warmed his bruised features as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, “what do I owe you?”

“Oh no,” your hands waved lightly before you, “it’s on the house.”

“Y/n, come on,” he cocked his head.

“Fine,” you light-heartedly sighed, “if you really wanna sing for your supper, then I’ll cash it in at a later date. I don’t know, maybe if I get arrested someday or something you could help me out.”

“You don’t have to bribe me with free baked goods for that.”

“No, but it sure doesn’t hurt, does it?” you chuckled.

“No,” he joined in as he reached for the bags, “I guess it doesn’t.”

“You want some help carrying it?” you asked, hope seeping through your tone, “I could take my break and walk with you the rest of the way.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, we just got through the morning rush, they’ll be fine without me for–, I don’t know, 15 minutes or however long it’ll take to walk to your office and back.”

“Alright, thanks,” he smiled, one paper bag hooked in the fingers that also clutched the cane.

“I’m just gonna go grab my jacket, one second,” you said before ducking into the back to do so, letting your uncles know as you slipped out of your comfortable work clogs and into your sneakers.

You ended up dividing the load, with you carrying the coffees and the last bag in one arm, though a few protests left you at first, begging him to let you carry all of it, they melted away as his free hand enveloped yours.

When you reached his office, your arms wrapped around his frame as you hugged him long enough for your heartbeats to sync up, and just as you pulled away, his wide palms still warm on your back, you leaned in and planted a brief peck on his scruffy cheek.

One of his hands swept up to meet the side of your face as your lips retracted. You pulled back so slowly that you weren’t sure you were moving at all, being drawn in by his warmth like a moth to a flame.

His nose gently grazed against yours as he let himself linger, but just as your eyes fluttered shut in expectance that he’d kiss you, his warmth withdrew and he slowly breathed, “have a good day.”

In a matter of seconds, you had gone from giggling, glancing down at some silly joke on your phone as you walked home, to panic instantly kicking in as a passerby’s voice pierced your soul and made your blood run cold.

Glancing around, you saw a stranger standing off to the side and yapping into his phone. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t Michael, but it sounded exactly like him, so much so that the tone sent your body right back to that very night as if no time had passed at all.

Willing your body to move, forcing it to conquer the short rest of the way home, once your front door shut behind you and your quiet apartment consumed you, painful sobs began to burst out of your trembling frame. Hyperventilating, you crashed into the nearby wall of the entryway directly across from the door, incapable of getting deeper into your home.

Soon, a quiet and surprising knock found your door.

“Y/n?” the worried tone of your neighbour sounded from the other side.

Your shaky voice came out no louder than a whisper, “M-Matt?”

There might not have been any other instances you could recall where accidentally forgetting to lock your door turned out for the better, because when Matt then tried the handle, it gently complied.

Shutting it behind him, he rushed to you, “hey, hey,” he uttered softly, a hand soothingly finding your arm, “what’s going on?”

Attempting an answer, “I–, I–,” only incoherent sobs managed to seep from you.

“Okay, alright,” he sucked in a controlled breath, one of his hands sliding up to the strap of your backpack, “how about we start by getting all the way inside, huh?” gently gliding it off you and resting the bag on the floor.

You let yourself lean into him fully as he supported you on the short journey towards the couch. Wobbly taking a seat, his touch left you as he settled beside you.

Spine curving, you buried your puffy face in your trembling hands, letting the whole world drift away as small lakes were birthed within your palms from your pain.

When the sobs eventually began to subsite, growing further and farther apart, your frame slowly unfurled. Instinctively flicking your hands before your form, you tried to physically shake even a fraction of the excruciating sensation off of you, but without success.

Matt hadn’t moved an inch, simply stayed there right beside you.

When your quiet voice eventually filled space, it came out broken and overflowing with emotion, “I thought it was him… it wasn’t, b-but it sounded exactly like him… I’ve done double takes every time I saw a stranger with the same haircut or felt nauseous every time I encountered the same name, but this really did sound like him. Same voice, same accent, same everything… but it wasn’t him… it wasn’t… it just sent me right back, you know?”

Hesitantly, you grasped his hand in yours, expecting the contact to only make it worse, to somehow taint and ruin his wonderful and soothing touch, but it didn’t, he didn’t. It was Matt.

Trying to regain control of your breathing, you shakily sucked in deep breaths, feeling your gulps of air slowly become calmer and migrate from the very top of your chest, down to expand your sore stomach. Eyes only half open and utterly exhausted, you noticed that your head was now leaning against Matt’s shoulder.

Glancing hazily down at yourself, you muttered, “fuck… I still have my shoes and jacket on…”

Reaching down, he offered, “here,” before sliding your coat off, resting it on the back of the couch, and leaning down to pull your shoes off.

Curling your legs up onto the couch, the shift in your position offered you more relief than you’d expected. As you attempted to get as comfortable as you possibly could in the state you were in, you snatched up Matt’s hand once more.

Offering your palm a soothing squeeze, he asked quietly, “what do you need, huh? What can I do?”

“I–…” you thought, your brain just as drained as your body was, “I don’t know… maybe–… maybe just be here a bit?”

Exhaling lowly, he flashed you a faint smile, “of course.”

Glancing down at his fingers, sweeping across your own, you said, “hey, Matt? Could you maybe–, uh… could you give me a hug?”

Not hesitating, his strong arms engulfed your quivering frame and a fresh wave of sobs swiftly bubbled out of you as he held you tight, though your cries didn’t push him away, he stayed steadfast, embracing you close till the eruption ultimately simmered down, leaving you nearly asleep against his tear-stained shoulder.

As he gently lowered you down to lay on the couch, you tightened your grip on his shirt as he began to pull back, ushering him to sink down as well, allowing you to curl into his safe embrace and let slumber drift you away.

When you finally stirred, the sun was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey,” you blinked up at Matt still in the exact same spot as before.

“Hey,” you replied groggily, “what time is it?” swiftly fishing your phone out of your pant pocket before Matt could conjure an answer, “oh, fuck… it’s nearly midnight… did you sleep as well?”

“Not really,” he shrugged, “maybe for a little bit, but no.”

“Oh…” you breathed, averting your gaze.

“How are you feeling?” his thumb swiped your waist where his broad palm was planted.

“…I don’t know…” you exhaled, “…exhausted… sad… angry… really fucking angry… so angry that it kinda scares me…”

After a beat of silence, with only your woeful breaths filling the space, Matt then uttered, “I think I know something that might help a bit.”

Your gaze drifted from the faded paint on the walls to the worn punching bags as you and Matt sat on the edge of the central ring and his fingers worked at wrapping up your hands.

“Do you come here a lot?” you asked, your vision gliding back to him.

“From time to time,” he tilted his head slightly, “reminds me of my dad,” tucking the last end of the strip under the weave, securing it into place, he closed your hand into a fist and exhaled, “alright, you’re ready,” he adjusted your grip, briefly offering your wrist a squeeze as he said, “just remember to keep your wrist strong and your thumb right here,” he slid your finger down below your knuckles.

You hadn’t gone into it with much hope, in fact, it was only out of your desperation just feel better that you even humoured the experiment. In the beginning, it did feel as silly as you’d imagined, nearly stopped completely, but at some point in the mess of it all, your punches grew more ferocious, they grew more brutal, and suddenly something inside of you snapped and unravelled. It wasn’t some magic pill, but the physical act did loosen something within you and gave away to a fresh release of sobs, though not the painful and unbearable kind you’d had to endure earlier. It was the kind that felt like relief. Even if it wasn’t permanent, in that very moment, you didn’t feel like you were drowning anymore.

#lea’s writing #buttercup series #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matthew murdock imagine #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #matt murdock series #matthew murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #matt murdock hurt/comfort

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thebearer · 7 months

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the milestones menu: nonna berzatto's homemade pasta

prompt: yours and carmen's first "i love you".

contains: fluff, general fluff. some mentions to dead relatives, carmen's self doubt, but very minimal bc it's very fluffy :)

2 cups of flour- Semolina.

4 Large Eggs

Pinch of Salt

Put flour into a mound. Make a center, and add the eggs to the middle. Whisk slowly with a fork, gradually working it in little at a time until nice and thick. Knead the mixture for about ten minutes. Let it rest in the fridge for thirty minutes. Put it in a ball, and roll it out very thin.

“Can’t believe you never had homemade pasta.” Carmen shook his head, blue eyes peeking out from under the mess of curls.

“Nope.” You shook your head, grinning over the crystal wine glass, sipping your riesling slowly. “Strictly a boxed pasta girl.”

“Fuckin’ criminal.” Carmen grinned, a playful, lopsided smirk that had you blushing.

The counter was covered in flour, stopping just where you rested, propped up on the granite while Carmen worked. Your eyes trained on his hands, hands that stirred the eggs into the flour, kneaded the dough until your thighs were clenching.

“My Nonna is rollin’ in her grave right now, you know that?” Carmen pulled you from your gaze, rolling out the dough.

“Noooo, don't say that.” You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re making me feel bad, Carmen. I swear I thought Olive Garden made fresh pasta.”

Carmen laughed, a little shy but louder now- more himself. He’d blossomed with you lately, unveiling new parts of himself every single day. “‘M just kiddin’, baby.” Carmen hummed, eyes cutting to you a little skeptical. “Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole. That sounded douchey, right?”

You smiled, setting your glass behind you. “No, I was just messin’ with you, bear.” The nickname- his nickname. Hearing it more and more roll from your tongue, each time his heart skipped harder than the last.

“Is this her recipe?” You asked, picking up the faded recipe card, looped cursive on the aged paper. “Your Nonna’s?”

“Yeah,” Carmen nodded. “I, uh, so when I left to go to culinary school, right? She was sick, and… and I think she, like, knew that when I went to New York that would be the last time she saw me.” Carmen’s face dropped, slow and sad, it made your own heart sink.

“So she-she gave me all these recipe books and-and cards that were hers. We used to cook together a lot. She taught me how to cook, y’know? My mom and dad were always at the restaurant and didn’t want to cook when they got home. They didn’t want me in the restaurant either so I spent a lot of time with her.” Carmen muttered. You could see the memories playing behind his eyes.

You liked to picture that version of Carmen, a little boy with wild curls, helping his Nonna cook. Happy memories.

“That’s sweet.” You smiled, leaning against the cabinets. “She did a really good job. You know she’s so insanely proud of you.”

Carmen snorted, shaking his head lightly. “Yes, she is. Everyone’s proud of you, Carmen… I’m proud of you.” You hesitate, eyes scanning his features. It was true, of course, but handling Carmen sometimes was like handling a frightened animal. You were never sure what would make him scatter away in fear.

Carmen swallowed thickly, cheeks flushed red, lips in a tight line. “T-Thanks.” Carmen muttered, wiping his hands on his apron, tossing the flour back into his clammy hands.

“She, uh, she woulda loved you, y’know.” Carmen’s eyes met yours, intense and piercing. “I wish you coulda met her.”

“Yeah, me too.” You nod. “I would’ve loved to hear all the baby Carmen cooking stories. I bet she had some good ones.” You smiled, bright and wide- perfect. It made Carmen’s brain numb.

“Yeah, she would.” Carmen nodded, hands stilling, still buried in the dough.

He felt it in his bones, his heart, consuming his thoughts. The overwhelming need he’d felt for weeks, since the first time you kissed him really, that he’d been fighting- too scared to say. What he felt every time he looked at you, when he thought about you.

“Um, I-I wanna say something, and-and I don’t know if I should even fuckin’ say this or-or if it’s… fuck, if you-you feel the same or I just, I don’t wanna fuck this up because this is like the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and-and I’m workin’ on not ruinin’ good shit in my life and bein’ ok with it like-like my therapist says ya know, but-” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in fast, overwhelming bouts that took you by surprise.

Carmen flustered, reaching a dough covered hand to his face, the sticky batter catching on his brows and hair. He flushed deeply, hands shaking in embarrassment, cursing under his breath. “F-Fuck, I-I’m sorry. I-I, nevermind, it’s not… I don’t know why-why I would-” His hands trembled, body shaking with anger and embarrassment. Way to fuckin’ go, Berzatto, you fuckin’ ruin it. That’s all you ever do, Carmen thought bitterly, wiping his hands off on the cloth.

“Carm,” You said softly, your voice a beacon in the raging sea of his mind, pulling him out of his own harsh thoughts.

Carmen turned, a fury flush of pure embarrassment that burnt all down his cheeks to his chest. Eyes soft and wary, hesitant like he was doomed, destined for the worse.

You slide off the counter easily, grabbing the spare towel, bringing it to his eyebrows, wiping the dough off gently. The softness of your touch soothed Carmen, lulling his hammering heart- he didn’t see your own shaking hands, filled with your own adrenaline nerves.

You stood in front of him, eyes on the other, careful and watching- unsure. “I-I love you, too.” Your breath hitched, squeezing the words out in a nervous tumble. Carmen didn’t move, body going rigid, heart stopping entirely. The ringing was back in his ears, clouding his brain so loudly he was sure he heard you wrong.

“I’ve wanted to say it for a while, too, but didn’t…” You shook your head, heat in your own cheeks, eyes casting down to his dough covered hand. “I didn’t know if-if you felt that or if- I don’t know, I didn’t want to seem crazy or obsessive if it was too soon, and-and scare you.”

“No,” Carmen croaked, tongue thick in his own mouth. “No, I-I mean- fuck,” Carmen shook his head, looking to the wall. He needed a second, words jumbled in his mouth, heart racing, so high off the adrenaline he felt like he could combust at any moment.

“I-I was gonna say that too.” Carmen nodded, the quirk in your lips making his heart lurch. “That I love you. I was- yeah, I love you. I-I have for a while.”

“Really?” You whispered, voice tiny and excited, like it was a secret just for the two of you. Maybe it was.

“Yeah, fuck yeah.” Carmen let out a breathy, shaky laugh. “I love you, and-and I just love you so much it makes my brain hurt sometimes.”

“Me too.” You grin, a hand pressing to his cheek. “I love you.” The phrase you’d repressed for so long, deprived yourself of saying now spilled out of you like a mantra- like that was all you could say now.

Carmen grinned, brain bubbly and light. He let you pull him into a kiss, head tilting down, lips molding over yours so they fit perfectly.

Later over plates of Bologonese, you grinned across the table from Carmen. “If I didn’t tell you I loved you before, I definitely would now.” You moaned, pointing at the plate. “I really was missing out.”

Carmen beamed under your praise, gooey and love drunk off your words- off you. He knew Viola Berzatto, wherever she was, was boasting with pride.

And he knew his Nonna would have loved you too.

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fireandiceland · 1 year

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Hetalia nations dressed as sweet treats from their countries 😊

Spain - Churro: a sweet Spanish snack consisting of a strip of fried dough dusted with sugar or cinnamon.

China - Tanghulu: a sweet Nothern Chinese snack consisting of several rock sugar-coated fruits of Chinese hawthorn on a bamboo skewer

France - Macaron: a sweet meringue-based confection made with egg white, icing sugar, granulated sugar, almond meal, and food colouring, often filled with ganache, jam, or buttercream.

America - Apple Pie: a pie with the principal filling ingredient being apples with pastry above and below, often served with whipped cream or ice cream.

Germany - Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte: the black forst cake is a chocolate sponge cake with a filling made from whipped cream and maraschino cherries and kirschwasser or rum.

Italy - Gelato: the Italian word for ice ceam, in English it refers to a frozen dessert containing 6-9% butterfat, 35% air, and more flavouring than other kinds of frozen desserts.

Japan - Hanami Dango: a Japanese dumpling made from rice flour mixed with uruchi rice flour and glutinous rice flour, to eat during hanami (flower viewing) where the three colors (pink, green, white) represent the order in which cherry blossoms bloom.

England - Victoria Sponge Cake: two sponge cakes which are filled with cream and jam then dusted on top with sugar, namded after Queen Victoria who was known to enjoy the small cakes with her afternoon tea.

Russia - Pashalnii Kulichi: a traditional Easter bread baked in tall, cylindrical tins (like coffee or fruit juice tins) and decorated with white icing (which slightly drizzles down the sides) and colorful flowers or sprinkles.

Prussia - Baumkuchen: literally "tree cake" or "log cake", a kind of spit cake from Germany, but also a popular dessert in Japan. The name stems from the characteristic "tree rings" that appear in its slices.

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morethansalad · 2 months

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Vegan Strawberry Donuts

#vegan #desserts #donuts #strawberries #yeast #bread flour #plant milk #vegan cream cheese #vegan butter #peanut butter #beet powder #tahini #vanilla #coconut sugar #maple syrup #sea salt #edible flowers #cherry blossoms

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najia-cooks · 3 months

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[ID: Diamond-shaped cake slices arranged into a layered star shape, topped with powdered sugar, with dates and prunes placed around the edge of the plate. Two plates of Italian Christmas cookies are in the background. End ID]

Whole orange cake with sumac and pink peppercorn

This moist, flavorful cake is inspired by Sicilian torta all’arancia (orange cake) and Moroccan مَسْكُوتة‎ ("maskūta"). There is no peeling, zesting, or juicing of oranges required; oranges are added whole, and lend the citrus oils in their peels, the sweetness and flavor of their juice, and the tenderness of their pulp to the final cake.

Maskouta is a wheat-flour-based cake that often comes in orange or yoghurt varieties—this recipe combines both versions. The addition of yoghurt makes the cake incredibly tender, and adds a smooth tartness that perfectly balances the brightness, robustness, and slight bitterness of the citrus oils that infuse the cake. Cardamom and orange blossom water, both occasional additions in Moroccan orange cakes, add delicate aromatics that further round out the flavor of the cake; sumac and pink peppercorn add a sour, fizzling touch that draws the brightness of the orange to a head at the front of the palate.

Recipe under the cut!

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Ingredients:

2 whole organic oranges

1 3/4 cup (210g) flour

1 1/2 tsp sumac

3/4 tsp pink peppercorn

6 green cardamom pods

1 tsp baking powder

1 tsp baking soda

1 tsp kosher salt

2 tsp orange blossom water

3 Tbsp olive oil

1/3 cup non-dairy yoghurt

1/2 cup non-dairy margarine, softened

1 cup vegetarian granulated sugar

Sicilian and Moroccan orange cakes do not usually include butter; however, I find that a creaming method, which incorporates air into a solid fat such as margarine, helps replace some of the leavening power of whipped eggs.

Instructions:

1. Scrub oranges thoroughly. Submerge them in cool water (weighing them down with a plate) and soak overnight.

This step removes some of the bitterness of the orange peels. If you don't have time for soaking, or if you very much dislike any amount of bitterness in sweets, zest the oranges by taking off just the orange layer of the peel with a microplane or vegetable peeler; set zest aside. Remove as much of the white pith as you can and discard. Use the zest and the peeled orange slices in place of the whole oranges.

2. Remove oranges from water. Blend them, along with orange blossom water, until homogenous. The mixture does not need to be completely liquid.

3. Toast cardamom pods and pink peppercorns in a dry skillet on medium heat until fragrant. Grind in a spice mill, or with a mortar and pestle. Combine dry ingredients (spices, flour, salt, baking powder, and baking soda) in a mixing bowl.

3. Cream margarine in a large mixing bowl with an electric hand mixer for 30 seconds, until fluffy. Add sugar and cream for 2 minutes, until aerated.

3. Gradually add pulverized oranges and fold in. Add olive oil and yoghurt and fold to combine.

4. Slowly add dry ingredients and gently fold until combined. You should get a fairly thick batter.

5. Prepare a 9" x 13" (about 22 x 33 cm) glass cake pan with oil or margarine. Pour in batter and flatten with a rubber spatula.

6. Bake in the bottom of an oven at 350 °F (175 °C) for 50 minutes, or until a toothpick entered into the center of the cake comes out clean.

7. Once cake has cooled, cut into slices and arrange as desired. Top with powdered sugar.

#baking #cake #cakes #orange cake

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crheativity · 9 months

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Started thinking about what pet names all the boys would give you (excluding standard ones like babe/baby and darling and love and stuff) and this is what I came up with-

(Some of these have been in fics I've read bur I am currently sick as a dog and don't remember where, so credit where credit is due!)

Heartslabyul-

Riddle: His Rose/Rosebud/Petal. Might use Strawberry if he can not get flustered by using it

Ace: Cherry (he mentions liking cherries at some point)

Deuce: Bluebell/Bluebird (no clue why I thought of it but this is so frickin cuuute 🥺)

Cater: Presh (originally it was his Diamond, then his Precious, then Presh for short)

Trey: Honey or Sugar if he was feeling endeared, but if he was messing around he'd use different ingredients (egg, flour, butter, etc. Oyster sauce is one of his favourites when teasing too)

Savannaclaw-

Leona: I could only think of catnip, kitten or pillow so pick your poison 💀

Jack: His mate (most people think you are just homies at first bc of it but then they realise)

Ruggie: Sweetpea/Dandelion/other (edible) flowers

Octavinelle-

Azul: Angelfish

Jade: Pearl

Floyd: Shrimpy!!1!1!!

Scarabia-

Kalim: Princess/Sunflower

Jamil: Gem/Albibi (baby in Arabic. Idk much about that one, I've seen people say he'd use it though)

Pomefiore-

Vil: Sweet potato Fair one

Rook would have a new one every two minutes and each time it would be a paragraph in French describing how beautiful you are

Epel: Apple blossom (shortened to Apple or blossom)

Ignihyde-

Idia: Player 2 he'd also use discord kitten to tick you off

(Also Ortho will now call you Neesan)

Diasomnia-

Malleus: MY child of man

Lilia: Little bat

Sebek: TOLERABLE

Silver: Fawn

If you guys have any other thoughts lmk, I'm curious to see what others think 👀👀

#twst x reader #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst fanfic #twisted wonderland x reader #heartslabyul x reader #savannaclaw x reader #octavinelle x reader #scarabia x reader #pomefiore x reader #ignihyde x reader #diasomnia x reader

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turvi · 10 months

Note

Scotland Yard: Send me an au or a scenario, and I will write a fic for you.

Draco Malfoy and falling in love with a muggle.

Like after the war he settles in a nice muggle neighborhood and makes friends with the kind neighbour next door who ofc isn't aware of magic and then he finds himself falling for her.

Happy ending please cuz <33

LUCKY CHARM

WARNING: CANON DEATH, ANGST, KISSING

Draco entered his temporary and desolate house. The air in the house was colder than the air outside. It was contrasting the blossoming colours of spring outside. It was dark and cold. He immediately closed the door. Even though no one will recognise him here, he fears being identified.

He quickly settled in. He had brought minimum luggage with him. What was the point of carrying his belongings where he didn't belong?

Draco moved his belongings into what would be his bedroom. His eyes fell on the mirror. He no longer recognised the person he had become. His older self was a distant memory. His face looked ashen, his eyes colder than before.

He sat on the bed, contemplating whether he should check up on his parents, but he couldn't even bring himself to move. Draco looked out of the window. The muggles cheerfully chat and walk unbeknownst to the jeopardy that the wizarding world had fallen into. Yes, Harry managed to kill The Dark Lord. But at what cost.

Three days ago, he had found himself in front of the Burrow. His jaw clenched, and his fingers twitched. He didn't really know why he was here. What he had done could not be forgotten by a simple apology. But he found himself grieving Fred's death. It was his fault he was dead. They wouldn't want to see him, especially George. Yes, he would actively show his dislike for the Weasleys, but he still grieved that they lost their child. And George lost his twin. He can't imagine what he must be going through.

Suddenly he looked up to see Molly had spotted him, and she was making her way to the front door. But when she opened it, he was gone.

Two months later, Draco was finally able to leave the house. The sunlight felt brighter than usual, or maybe the solitude was getting the better of him. He kept his head down, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

He tried looking for shops that had fewer customers. Within the next ten steps, he found a cafe. It looked brand new. In fact, it was so new it looked like he was the first customer.

The cafe looked cosy. He observed the artwork that was on the wall. It suited the minimalist look of the cafe.

"You want something?." Draco flinched and turned to see a girl beside him. Her apron was covered in flour and chocolate, he smelled a hint of vanilla off of her, and the dim light above her made her look angelic. Even though she looked his age but the bright smile on her lips made her look a few years younger.

"Uh...no, I am...I am just looking around." Draco thought his response was good. He wanted to remain forgettable. He kept his eyes on the paintings despite his earlier distaste for them. But he couldn't pay attention to them. The scent of vanilla grew stronger.

He realised she was closer, looking at the paintings too. She was still smiling. That made Draco frown. She cleared her throat. "Let me know if you need anything. I will be behind the counter. Not like I can go anywhere." She awkwardly smiled. He didn't want her to stop smiling. She felt like a breath of fresh air. The scent of vanilla on her didn't help either.

Draco looked at the delicious treats that were on display. He couldn't remember the last time he ate. His stomach grumbled. The girl wordlessly went behind the counter to reheat a chocolate pastry.

"Here." She handed him the dessert with a sweet smile. Draco offered his own little smile as he ate the pastry. His eyes fluttered, and he stifled a moan. Being the only heir to the Malfoy family, he had access to all kinds of luxuries. He had tasted all kinds of expensive and imported desserts, but they all failed in front of this simple pastry.

"Did you like it?" As much as she tried to hide it, Draco was still able to detect a sense of insecurity in her, a feeling he was too familiar with. And while Draco had initially thought to just pay for her efforts and leave but he felt wrong to go without saying anything.

"It's actually good," Draco told her, avoiding looking into her eyes. "When did you open this shop?" he asked nervously, but her sweet smile and calm voice eased him up.

"Last week. And you are my first customer." Draco couldn't help but smile at her optimism.

"Well, I am sure you will get more customers." As soon as he said that they heard the door creak open and an elderly woman slowly made her way to the counter.

"Hi...do you sell cookies?" she asked sweetly, and the girl excitedly nodded before she went into the kitchen. The old lady smiled at Draco, and he smiled back. But Draco frowned. He felt like he had seen this old lady before. He couldn't remember where. Suddenly he felt her cold, wrinkly hand on his cheek. "It's not your fault."

Draco forgot how to breathe for a second and saw as the girl came back and handed the lady cookies. He looked at her wide-eyed as she sweetly thanked the girl and went away like nothing happened. Leaving Draco in his thoughts.

Weeks went by, and the crowd in her cafe grew. Drace was one of them. He was a regular now. He often had a craving for her sweet treats. He eventually learnt her name when he accidentally spilt his coffee on her counter when she opened her hair to relieve the pain in her scalp from holding it in a bun all day.

"Y/n L/n, such a sweet name." he smiled at her as he helped her clean her counter. Even their conversations were regular now. It took him time to open up to her, but eventually, she became his sunlight after a dark storm.

"Thank you, I like your name too. It's unique." she looked up to see him looking at her lips and immediately looking away. She felt her cheeks warm but didn't point out that she caught him staring. Y/n wanted him to be comfortable around her and not overwhelm him with her blooming romantic feelings for him.

"Oh, I have a new dish on my menu. Wanna try it?" Y/n excitedly offers, wanting to impress the blonde man.

"Only if I get a discount." Draco cheekily smiled, and that was the first time she saw him come out of his shelf. She smirked, and Draco thought she couldn't look more beautiful. "Better you are getting it for free."

"Why am I special?" he asked as he leaned on the counter, trying to look smug, yet internally he was shaking nervously. "Nah, just my guinea pig."

He liked the sound of being hers. The amount of time he had spent here in her company, where he knew at first he was an insufferable twat, but her patience and kindness and her sweet treats had slowly broken down the walls he had created.

"Would you like to go out someday?" Draco was surprised at his own confidence. He tightly gripped the counter, anticipating her rejection, when her sweet voice comforted him again. "I would love that. Where are you thinking?"

He was immediately at a loss for words. "Uh...uhm...nowhere...really. I was thinking maybe we could explore the town. I haven't been outside in a while, so maybe you could take me to your favourite spots?"

"Ok, tomorrow after I close the cafe?"

Draco nodded. "Yep, it's a date." he quickly walked towards the door, his heart healing at the sound of her giggles.

The mirror in his room now showed a different reality. His face looked healthier. His smile dropped for a minute as the thought of his parents crossed his mind. He will talk to them. But not now. Today he will spend time with Y/n.

When he got out of his house, he immediately spotted her. She smiled when she saw him. Her appearance felt brighter than the sunlight. Does she know she is beautiful? That when she is in front of him, he forgets about the world and his problems.

He swallowed thickly when she got closer. He fixed his hair and clothes, offering her his arm. "Shall we?"

"Ohh, what a gentleman." his breathing got heavier when he felt her gentle touch on his arm. He didn't deserve her. She didn't know the crimes he had done. She doesn't know the person he was in the wizarding world. For her, he was just another man. But she will stop smiling at him when she knows what he has done.

His train of thought was stopped when he felt her warm palm on his arm, her eyes focused only on him. He wanted to cry, beg for forgiveness but he felt too numb to even move.

"Are you ok? It's alright if you changed your mind about this."

His eyes teared up to see that she really meant what she said. Y/n took his hands in her hands looking up at him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I...I am sorry I just need some time. I am ok." He will tell her when the time is right and he knew he can trust her as he watched her smile assuredly at him.

"We don't need to rush. I am here for you."

He watched her eyes flutter as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Draco cupped her cheek looking into her eyes "Thank you so much." He gently brushed his nose with hers. "Can I?"

"Please"

Draco heard her breath hitch when gently kissed her lips, now cupping her face with both his hands, his heart overpowering his brain as he deepened the kiss when he felt her kiss back. They broke the kiss breathlessly looking into each other's eyes. "I'm sorry"

She smiled and pecked his lips. "Don't be, I like this. I like you."

Draco smiled widely. "Would mind if I kissed you again?"

She smirked. "I would if you won't."

And he did. He didn't know what he felt for her, or what it was but he felt ready to figure out his feelings for Y/n. He hugged her and wondered what was in store for them now?

A/N: I probably hinted at part 2 oh well let me know if you want that. REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED

434 notes · View notes

maesfics · 29 days

Text

LAZY MORNING — l.sm

pairing ; lee seokmin x fem!reader

↬ warnings ; established relationship, dk being clingy, fluff, DK BEING BF MATERIAL lmk if I forgot anything.

↬ ㅤㅤword count ; 1.2k

↬ synopsis ; 𝑖𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ you and your boyfriend share a lazy, romantic morning complete with pillow fights, a pancake competition, and cherished moments under the cherry blossoms, capturing it all in a perfect photo.

a/n ; Idea litch just came to mind and i think is so fitting for this man. tbh idk how i feel about this but i think this turned out okay?? | p.s. reblogs and feedback are extremely appreciated — i love to hear ur thoughts <3

if you want to request it's open! | inbox |

The first light of dawn had just begun to peek through the sheer curtains when the familiar melody of DK's voice filled the air, gentle but persistent. "Hey, wake up," he whispered, a playful lilt dancing in his tone. You groaned, burrowing deeper under the covers, only for them to be suddenly yanked away.

"Incoming!" DK announced, and before you could protest, a pillow struck softly against your side. Eyes snapping open, you grabbed a pillow of your own, and the quiet of the morning was quickly replaced by laughter and the muffled thumps of pillows.

The fight was less about winning and more about finding a thousand ways to make each other laugh. DK feinted to the left and you took the bait, ending up straddling him triumphantly. His eyes locked onto yours, a mischievous spark in them that matched your own. And then, as if pulled by an invisible thread, you both leaned in for a kiss, tender and lingering, a perfect contrast to the playful chaos moments before.

The kiss deepened, slowing time itself, before breaking into a series of smaller, softer ones—on the nose, the forehead, the laugh lines that only appeared when he was truly happy. Smiling, DK gently tugged you off him, his hands never leaving your waist as he guided you both towards the bathroom.

Amidst the steam and the smell of mint toothpaste, you stood side by side at the sink, brushing your teeth and sharing coy glances in the mirror. Every so often, DK would nudge you with his elbow, making you almost miss your mouth with the toothbrush, each little jab accompanied by a chuckle.

The domesticity of it was heartwarming, soothing in its simplicity. There was something incredibly intimate about performing such mundane tasks together, a silent declaration of trust and familiarity. And as you rinsed your mouths, the foamy water swirling down the drain, you realized these were the moments you cherished most—unremarkable to anyone else, but to you, they were everything.

After the shared laughter and playful nudges in the bathroom, the two of you moved to the heart of the home—the kitchen. The air was cooler here, away from the steam of the bathroom, and filled with the promise of a leisurely day ahead.

“Pancake challenge?” you proposed, already reaching for the flour and eggs. A competitive glint appeared in DK’s eyes, one that you had come to recognize and adore during your time together.

“You’re on,” he accepted, rolling up the sleeves of his comfortable, worn sweater. The kitchen became a battleground of sorts, with both of you determined to create the perfect pancake. He claimed one side of the counter, you the other, and so the Breakfast Beatdown commenced.

You both moved around the kitchen with an ease that spoke volumes of the mornings spent just like this one. He expertly flipped a pancake, catching it with a flourish that made you laugh. Not to be outdone, you attempted a flip that sent your pancake spinning, a bit off-center, but landing back in the pan nonetheless.

“Not bad,” DK appraised, his tone teasing but his smile genuine. “But let’s see if they taste as good as they look.”

You plated your creations, the golden-brown discs piled high and adorned with berries and a drizzle of syrup. Sitting down at the small kitchen table, the one with the mismatched chairs that somehow suited you both perfectly, you took your first bites.

The world outside didn’t matter in moments like these. It was just you, DK, and the quiet comfort of sharing a meal, the sweetness of the syrup somehow not as sweet as the company.

As you cleared the plates, a playful argument arose about who would wash and who would dry. It ended with a compromise—you would both wash, hands bumping and water splashing, turning even this simple chore into another opportunity for connection.

With the dishes done, it seemed only natural to continue the easy rhythm of the morning. DK pulled out his phone, a new idea already forming as he caught sight of the both of you in the reflective surface of the toaster.

“Let’s give carats a bit of a morning teaser,” he said, his voice low, mindful of the privacy you both cherished.

He held up the phone, the camera facing you two, and you both leaned in. The camera captured the scene—a snapshot of domestic bliss, your hair still tousled from sleep, his eyes crinkling with joy, the kitchen a backdrop to your shared life. It was a glimpse into a world that was usually kept just for the two of us.

The post went up on Weverse, with a caption that was warm but vague, a small insight into his world that wouldn’t reveal too much. The responses were immediate, a flurry of heart emojis and exclamations of how cute you both were, even though they could only guess at who the person beside him was.

As you scrolled through the comments, leaning against DK, you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders, pulling you closer. You didn’t need to look up to know he was smiling—that easy, heart-stopping smile that promised more lazy mornings and shared pancakes to come.

As the digital flurry of comments continued to glow on the screen, both of you chose to set aside the phone, turning your attention back to the present, where the true essence of the day resided.

DK stood, offering his hand with a charming smile. "How about we go for a walk? The cherry blossoms should be perfect right now," he suggested. You nodded, eager to enjoy the outside air, a perfect continuation of your lazy morning.

Hand in hand, you stepped outside, the spring breeze greeting you with the faint scent of blossoms and fresh earth. The streets were quiet, a peaceful Saturday morning with just the occasional passerby, who either didn't recognize DK or chose to respect his privacy. The tranquility added a layer of perfection to your stroll.

As you walked, the rows of cherry trees in full bloom seemed to arch above you, creating a tunnel of soft pink petals. Suddenly, DK paused under a particularly lush cherry blossom tree, its branches heavy with vibrant pink blooms.

"Stay right here," he said, stepping back with his phone raised. "This needs to be captured."

You looked up, smiling as a gentle shower of petals fell around you. DK snapped several photos, his eyes lighting up with each one. Coming over, he showed you the screen, a series of images that perfectly captured the essence of the moment—joy, serenity, and the surreal beauty surrounding you.

"I'm setting this as my wallpaper," he declared, his voice filled with a warmth that matched the sunny day. "So even when I'm away, I can always have this moment with me."

You felt a surge of affection, touched by his gesture. The day continued with your hands re-entwined, each step under the cherry blossoms further deepening your connection.

Finally returning home, you both settled on the couch, wrapped in a light blanket, content to simply be in each other’s presence. Outside, the world continued at its usual pace, but inside, the slow rhythm of a lazy morning stretched on, a timeless bubble that both of you cherished deeply.

DK looked over at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Thanks for the perfect morning," he murmured.

"You make every morning perfect," you whispered back, leaning in for another kiss, slow and sweet, the perfect end to your lazy morning under the cherry blossoms.

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dreamwritesimagines · 1 year

Text

Garden of Secrets [19] - Peach Blossoms

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Affection can be difficult to put into words.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex, mentions of violence, slow burn.

Word Count: 5100

Series Masterlist

You still hadn’t quite gotten used to your new home. Especially at night it was very hard to actually tell where you were but after a couple of minutes and occasional stumbles in the dark, you had finally reached the completely empty kitchen. Finding the ingredients that you wanted was another challenge you hadn’t considered, yet after snooping around and opening quite literally every cabinet, you managed to find them and get to work.

The middle of the night was not the ideal time to bake cookies but it was the better alternative to tossing and turning in the bed.

You added the flour into the huge bowl before mixing it with the eggs and sugar, humming a song to yourself. Teddy was going to be so happy tomorrow when you took these to him, you were sure of it and considering tomorrow -well, technically today- you would meet him and Josie, Bess and Andrew for a picnic, you wouldn’t have to wait so long.

“What are you doing?”

You jolted in your spot and looked over your shoulder to see Benedict staring at you as if he was questioning whether you were indeed there or not.

“Baking,” you said, holding up the bowl. “I thought you’d be asleep.”

“Yeah I—you know we have a staff, right?”

You tilted your head. “Yes?” you said. “I see them every day.”

“So you could’ve just asked them to do it instead of coming down here in the middle of the night?”

“No I don’t mind,” you said. “I’m making these for Teddy and he likes it better when I bake them, not anyone else.”

Benedict pulled his brows together, still staring at you.

“How do you know how to make anything?”

“Huh?”

“I mean—” he motioned at you. “This is a kitchen.”

“Yes?”

“How do you know how to make something in a kitchen?”

You blinked a couple of times before a laughter spilled from your lips. “Are you serious?”

“Daphne doesn’t even know how to start heat on stove.”

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” you muttered. “Dear God, that’s how you all grew up then? You just snapped your fingers and people made things for you, always?”

He looked like he had no idea how to answer that and you repressed a smile at the confusion etched in his handsome features, then put the butter into the mix and held out the bowl.

“Here, take this.”

“What?”

“If you’re going to stay here you may as well make yourself useful,” you said. “I’ll give you some of the cookies as a thank you.”

He eyed the bowl as if it could come alive and attack him anytime. “I don’t know how to do it.”

“You mix paints, don’t you?” you asked. “It’s just a larger, that is all.”

He carefully took the bowl from you and looked inside, then dipped his head a little to smell it, then lifted his head again to look at you.

“Wait, it smells good even before the oven?”

You stifled a laugh and nodded. “Mm hm.”

“And I just mix it?”

“Yeah, while I chop the chocolate,” you said as you grabbed the knife and put the block of chocolate on the cutting wood. He leaned back, trailing the spoon in the bowl and keeping his gaze on you as you started chopping chocolate.

“Nightmares again?” he asked softly and you clicked your tongue, your whole focus is on the chocolate as you shrugged your shoulders.

“It’s not important.”

“It is though,” he said, “I told you, you can always come to—”

“It’s nothing,” you cut him off. “I can handle it.”

“But you don’t have to,” Benedict said. “Not alone at least.”

Your hand froze for a moment as that burning reached your eyes but you quickly blinked back the tears, returning to what you were doing again. A silence fell upon the kitchen before he cleared his throat.

“So, did your mother teach you how to bake?”

You scoffed. “My mother didn’t teach me anything except—”

How to dodge a slap.

“Um, Josie taught me,” you said. “My mother wasn’t exactly…she didn’t like us to be around her in the kitchen.”

Or anywhere really.

“And we didn’t have any maids or a cook or anything,” you said and threw him a look over your shoulder. “Which by the way, if you are changing your mind because of my financial situation growing up, it’s kind of too late. We’re already married.”

He let out an incredulous chuckle. “Right, because that’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“Obviously,” you said with a grin and motioned at him to bring you the bowl. He did as you asked and you took it from him to place it on the counter, then put the chocolate pieces into it to start mixing it.

“So what was it like?” he asked, leaning back to the side counter and you raised your brows.

“Growing up poor you mean?”

He took a deep breath, as if trying to decide whether he was supposed to answer that or not.

“Growing up…knowing how to bake?” he tried and you scoffed a laughter.

“You can say it, it’s alright,” you said as you stopped mixing the dough before putting the bowl aside. You grabbed a small portion of the dough and started rolling it in your hands.

“The ones Josie used to make me were a bit different,” you said. “Smaller in portion and no chocolate, of course. Too expensive.”

“I’m sorry.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Don’t be,” you said and put the small portion of dough on the baking tray, then got some in your hand again to roll it. “Are you going to help me, or…?”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s not that hard, I assure you.”

He came closer to you and took a look at what you were doing, then reached into the bowl to take some of the dough into his hand as well.

“Very well then,” he said. “This is interesting.”

“You’ve never done this before huh?”

“Ever,” he said, shaking his head before putting the small piece of the tray. “How was it? Growing up like that?”

You thought for a moment, then heaved a sigh.

“You…you get used to not having things,” you said. “Especially if you’re born into it. But it doesn’t—just because you get used to it doesn’t mean it’s easy. Adaptability doesn’t lead to happiness, no matter what all those novels tell you. It wasn’t exactly pleasant.”

“Nor safe?” he asked and you raised your head from the tray to look at him, furrowing your brows in confusion. He shot you a hesitant smile.

“The knife was a clue.”

“Oh,” you said and let out a small laugh. “It’s just a precaution. One can never be too careful, Josie says.”

“She’s right I suppose,” he murmured and you took another piece, then rolled it in your hand and offered it to him.

“Here.”

“What?”

“Eat it.”

Benedict raised his brows. “Alright, I know you’re looking forward to be a widow as soon as possible—”

“Don’t say that!” you protested and he motioned at the cookie dough in your hand.

“But this is no way to poison me, at least show me the curtsy of being subtle.”

“I’m not trying to poison you.”

“You’re offering me raw cookie dough.”

“And it’s delicious.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“You said it yourself it smelt good!”

“Soap smells good too but I don’t eat it,” he replied and you shook your head.

“You honestly have never tried raw cookie dough?”

“I’m not falling for this,” he shook his head. “I’m not even a great artist yet, I can’t die now.”

“Benedict.”

“Hm?” he asked, trying to repress a smile and you took a bite of the raw dough, the sweet taste coating your tongue before you swallowed it, then held out the rest to Benedict.

“I know you think this proves something but I watched you chomp down an actual asparagus. Raw.”

“That was a game,” you said. “I’m a highly competitive person—just try it.”

He heaved a dramatic sigh and took the dough from you to take a bite, but then his whole face lit up at the taste, making you laugh.

“See?”

“Are you serious?” he asked you and looked at the tray, “Can we maybe just not put them in the oven and eat them like this instead?”

“We are putting them in the oven,” you said, still smiling. “But hey, this is just yet another situation where I’m right. I hope you’re keeping a record.”

He gave you a grin. “Should I?”

“Obviously,” you said with a smile and grabbed the tray. “Open the oven for me, will you? Before you convince me to eat all these without baking them.”

The picnic next day was quite lovely. You had also met the Bridgertons there and soon enough everyone was scattered along the park. Colin had pulled Benedict aside somewhere else and Anthony kept stealing glances at Charlotte who was playing with Teddy, Gregory, Hyacinth and her own siblings, chasing them around much to their delightful laughter. Josie and Bess were walking around the park while Andrew sat beside you, and reached into the basket to grab a cookie.

“You are an angel.”

“Far from it.”

“A demon with good baking skills,” he corrected himself and you let out a laugh.

“Mm, sounds about right.”

He threw it in the air and caught it with his mouth.

“Jo says you haven’t been gardening lately,” he said while still chewing and you shifted your weight in your spot, then waved a hand in the air.

“I just didn’t get the time.”

He wiggled his brows. “Is your husband really that good in bed.”

“Andrew!”

“What?” he said, chuckling as you slapped his arm. “It’s just a question, don’t look so scandalized.”

“It has nothing to do with Benedict,” you lied through your teeth and he hummed.

“So what exactly are you doing then, to keep you so busy?”

“Things.”

“Please, that lovesick look on your face—”

“Lovesick look?” you exclaimed, “I do not have a lovesick look on my face.”

“You absolutely do, you should see yourself,” he said, making you pull back for a moment, still frowning.

If anything, this just meant you and Benedict were getting better at pretending in front of people, that was it. And it was good news of course, because the more people believed in it, the less they would question it.

“Don’t worry,” Andrew said, pulling you out of your thoughts. “He looks at you just as lovesick.”

You scoffed. “I think you spend too much time around Bess, and you know how she gets.”

“That has nothing to do with—”

“Hold that thought,” you cut him off as soon as your eyes caught the sight of Felix and you raised a hand so that he could see you as well. He immediately smiled brightly and made his way to you.

“Aw he looks quite cute.”

“Does he now?” you suppressed a smirk and turned to Felix when he reached you.

“Mrs. Bridgerton.”

“Felix, I told you to call me Y/N,” you said. “Andrew, this is Felix, a very promising artist. Felix, this is Lord Andrew Walcott, my brother-in-law.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

“You as well, Lord Walcott.”

“Get a cookie and sit with us,” you said, holding up the basket and Felix grabbed a cookie, then bit into it as he sat down.

“Wow,” he said. “My compliments to your cook.”

“I made them.”

He blinked a couple of times. “You?”

“Mm hm.”

“Not to worry, it’s not poisoned,” Andrew said and you elbowed him. “So you’re an artist?”

“Y/N is being kind,” Felix said with a shy smile and Andrew raised his brows.

“I’ve literally never seen that happen, so I doubt it.”

“I’m not being kind,” you said. “I think you can do it as long as you want to. That’s not being kind, that’s being realistic.”

Felix averted his eyes down as if he was embarrassed, then glanced up at you again through his thick lashes.

“Yet I cannot paint you?”

“Not me,” you said, shaking your head and Andrew looked between you two.

“What is that about?”

“I wanted to paint her, but she said no,” Felix said and motioned at you. “And I think you and Benedict would make a perfect Aphrodite and Adonis in a painting.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, no. Wait, did you ask Benedict that?”

“Mm hm.”

“And?”

“He said he’s not interested in posing but painting,” he said. “And he reminded me that you already said no.”

“You know people would kill each other over it if we were in Renaissance times?” Andrew asked you. “A promising artist offering to paint you as Aphrodite, that’s how you become immortal.”

Felix snapped his fingers. “I was thinking the same thing!”

“And I’m not interested in being immortal,” you said and saw Colin making his way to you while Benedict ran a hand through his hair, then followed him.

“What is happening?” you asked Colin when he reached you and Benedict sat down next to you.

“Hi Felix. Andrew.”

“Adonis.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Andrew grinned and Colin motioned at you.

“I need your help.”

“About?”

“What we talked of the other day, apparently,” Benedict said. “Colin, just go talk to her, alright?”

You looked through the crowd before your eyes fell on Miss Marina, then you turned to Colin who heaved a sigh.

“I would have if you two didn’t get in my head!” Colin said. “Now I’m wondering whether I should approach her with a—with an intellectual conversation starter.”

Felix tilted his head as Benedict leaned back.

“Isn’t that expecting too much from yourself?”

“Shut it Ben—Y/N, you must help me.”

“On romance?” your voice went high pitched for a moment. “Have you gone insane?”

“Not at all. I need your advice.”

“Why would you come to me,” you started, “me of all people for an advice on romance?”

“Well…”

“You two are in love?” Andrew said helpfully and Colin nodded.

“Exactly. I need a lady’s opinion on how to approach the issue at hand.”

“Why is this happening?” you asked to no one in particular. “Is it because I smile too much?”

Colin tilted his head. “Oh, you can smile?”

“Am I not smiling right now?” you deadpanned with a completely straight face and Benedict repressed a laugh.

“Go ask Daph to help you.”

“Daphne is busy with her suitor, and you know Eloise would never help.”

“Go ask Penelope then, you two are friends.”

“I don’t think—perhaps you should go speak to her beforehand,” Colin told you and you made a face.

“What on earth am I supposed to do Colin, just walk over there and yell ‘Ta daa!’ when you start walking to us?”

Andrew bit down a smile while Felix grabbed another cookie.

“Just approach her,” you said. “She obviously likes you enough to have multiple conversations with you.”

“That’s a terrible advice,” Colin made a face. “Give me another one,”

You threw your head back and ran a hand over your face.

“Alright, here’s what you should do,” you said. “Listen to me carefully.”

“Alright.”

“Just focus on what you feel for her, like really think about it,” you said. “Then take a deep breath, and go to the nearest church—”

“Church?” Benedict and Andrew asked at the same time and you nodded.

“Yes, go to a church, sneak downstairs; that’s where they keep the wine, drink as much of it as you can, then go home and sleep.”

Benedict held back a chuckle. “Why do I feel like you speak from experience?”

“Josie and I did that once,” you said and turned to Colin who heaved a sigh.

“Let’s not get distracted here.”

“Colin, approaching a lady who likes you should not be that hard.”

“But we don’t know if she likes me,” he insisted. “Benedict was certain you didn’t like him and look at you two, married now. Looks can be deceiving.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you swallowed thickly, then cleared your throat.

“Is she trying to get away from you while you make a conversation, or attempts to keep the conversation going?”

“Attempts to keep it going.”

“Congratulations, she likes you.”

Benedict pulled his brows together. “You kept trying to get away from me while I made conversation.”

“Yet we’re married now, life is full of miracles.”

“I’ve always known you would get married,” Andrew said and Benedict shot him a look of disbelief.

“Really?”

“Yeah! I just assumed she would become a widow incredibly fast but look at you Benedict, alive and kicking.”

“One can hope, the day is still young,” Colin pointed out and Benedict glared at him.

“Those are some big words coming from a man who cannot even talk to the lady he likes,” he retorted and held up his hand to show him his wedding ring. “I don’t seem to have that problem.”

You let out a laugh and high fived him. “No you don’t.”

“Why thank you darling.”

Colin shook his head as your heart skipped a beat at the term of endearment. “It feels like yesterday you were pacing in the drawing room throwing a fit over what Y/N would think after Whistledown wrote about you and Kitty Morris.”

You repressed the laughter bubbling in your throat and pressed a hand over your chest in an exaggerated manner. “Aw, that’s quite sweet. I hate her by the way.”

“Who’s that?” Felix asked and Benedict shrugged.

“No one important,” he said and turned to Colin, “And it makes perfect sense I was worried because as you can see, my wife hates her.”

“Yes I do.”

“And we’re going home together after this, yet another thing that’s different between you and me, brother.”

“We’re going to the bookshop first,” you added and Benedict nodded.

“We’re going to the bookshop first and then home together,” he corrected himself and Colin rolled his eyes.

“Are you finished?”

“Not even close, you started this,” he said. “And I’m merely sharing my wisdom with you.”

“Your wisdom?” Colin scoffed and Benedict shot him an arrogant grin.

“Marriage makes you wise, everyone knows that.”

You let out a noise of disbelief. “Debatable.”

“No he’s telling the truth,” Andrew said. “The moment you leave the chapel, a wisdom is bestowed upon you. Or in my and Jo’s case, the moment a blacksmith in Gretna Green pronounces you husband and wife.”

You frowned. “This is you being wise?”

“There you go,” Benedict motioned at Andrew and a sadness crossed Felix’s eyes for a moment.

“I heard some say marriage is the death of spirit.”

“Depends on who you marry,” Andrew said. “I married my best friend.”

You and Andrew exchanged glances and you bit down a smile, but of course the literal meaning of his words wasn’t noticed by anyone else.

“And Benedict here married the human equivalent of a razor blade,” Andrew motioned at you and you made a face.

“You two are not wise at all,” you pointed at him and Benedict, and turned to Colin. “Honestly, don’t listen to them. Just go over there, she has been stealing glances at you for a while now.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Colin asked, holding his breath and you nodded.

“Yeah. You’re wasting your time here listening to these two, just go and work your magic.”

“If you have any,” Benedict added and Colin narrowed his eyes at him.

“I like your wife better than I like you,” he said and took a deep breath, then fixed his waistcoat and walked away from you to Miss Marina. You could see the look Penelope stole at him and a sadness flashed over her face, making you raise your brows but before you could even ask anything, Charlotte made her way to you, still breathing hard and her hair a mess from running around.

“Hello everyone!”

“Hi Lottie.”

“We’re going to take the young ones to the play on the other side of the park,” she motioned in the opposite direction, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Do you want to come along?”

“Who’s we?”

“Me and Tony.”

Benedict shrugged his shoulders and opened his mouth but you shook your head.

“No, you go ahead,” you said, making Benedict turn to you.

“Really?”

“Absolutely,” you said and motioned at your maid. “Paula, would you mind keeping an eye on Teddy?”

“Of course my lady.”

“We should be back in half an hour I think!” Charlotte chirped and walked away from you and Benedict tilted his head.

“What was that about?”

You looked between Charlotte who was smiling brightly at Anthony as she told him something in a very excited manner, waving her hands around, unaware of the soft look in his eyes and you turned your gaze to Benedict.

“I’m not in the mood to see a play,” you said and popped a cookie in your mouth, then grinned at Andrew. “So Andrew. Tell us about your adventures in Spain, will you?”

After the picnic you had dropped by the bookshop and then gone home with Benedict as planned, but you were so tired that you could barely keep your eyes open during dinner. The hot weather always had a way of making you feel more tired than you were supposed to, and soon after dinner you had excused yourself and gone straight to bed, thinking you would wake up because of the nightmares in the middle of the night anyway.

But for once, nightmares weren’t what woke you up.

It was the fire burning through your veins.

You opened your eyes with a gasp, still feeling Benedict’s lips on your neck and it took you a couple of seconds to realize that it was all a dream. The disappointment that crashed upon you was so sudden that you dug your nails into your palms, trying your hardest to focus.

Yet, you had a feeling it wouldn’t work.

Dreaming of consummating your marriage wasn’t supposed to send such a powerful rush of desire through you, especially considering what you had heard about it but you could still feel his kisses on your lips, his touch on your skin, between your—

No no no.

You were not going to think about that now that you were awake.

You pushed the covers off of you and took a deep breath before getting up from the bed. Your heart was still beating in your ears and you stole a look at the closed door connecting your room to Benedict’s, but then shook your head at yourself.

It wasn’t as if you could just go there and ask to consummate your marriage.

That would be just…inconsiderate of you.

Besides, what was it Benedict had told you? Sometimes the act itself would lead to people falling in love, and you were not going to risk that, no matter how much desire clouded your brain and made you feel lightheaded.

Benedict was attractive, and this was simply a dream that was apparently fueled by that fact.

You dug your palms into your eyes before you lowered your hands, then threw your shoulders back. You desperately needed to get some fresh air and perhaps a walk, so you approached the door and opened it to step outside to the hall, but as soon as you did, you caught the sight of Benedict opening the door to his own room.

“Y/N?”

Oh God damn it.

Seeing him like this, in his night shirt and pants -no doubt having just returned from his studio on the other side of the house- was absolutely not helpful to the situation. The dream flashed before your eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat but you cleared your throat, willing yourself to concentrate.

“Uh…hello.”

His blue eyes searched your face, a frown pulling his brows together.

“Nightmares?”

Quite the opposite.

“Yeah—no,” you said and paused for a moment. “Today was a bit tiring and I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Are you alright? You look breathless.”

“Do I?” your voice came out as a squeak and he stepped closer to you, then pressed a hand over your forehead, making your eyes close for a moment before you bit inside your cheek and looked up at him.

“And you feel hot, is it sun exhaustion again?”

Oh that was just the perfect excuse.

“Yeah!” you said and cleared your throat again. “I mean not exhaustion so to speak but I feel… yeah. It’s because of the heat today, uh huh.”

“Should we send for the doctor?”

Your eyes widened.

“No!” you exclaimed. “God no, I just need some fresh air. That is all.”

“Are you sure? Because the last time it happened—”

“Do you want to come to the garden with me?” you cut him off, the words leaving your lips before you had a chance to stop them and Benedict looked almost surprised.

“I mean if you want to,” you added quickly. “You know, since we ran into each other, what are the odds?”

“…We live in the same house.”

“It’s a big house,” you muttered, feeling your face heat up even more and motioned at the stairs. “I’m just going to go now, you can come with if you want.”

You walked past him in a haste, desperate to do something other than staying here like a babbling fool but you heard Benedict rush after you.

“Wait, I’m coming with.”

“Great, that’s completely your choice,” you flailed your arms and made your way downstairs as he quickly caught up with you and you both passed the foyer and walked out of the front door.

The chill weather was like a soothing remedy to the burning in your cheeks. You looked up at the glimmering stars in the dark sky, then approached one of the many flower beds and sat down on the ground. Benedict sat beside you and you leaned back on your palms, keeping your gaze on the stars, the noises of crickets echoing through the huge garden.

Perhaps you could—

If it were to be anything like the dream you’d just had, perhaps you could just try it. Yes you had heard it from many people consummation was not pleasant at all, but some people seemed to think otherwise.

Including your aunt.

You made a face and shook your head slightly, heaving a deep sigh.

“You can tell me, you know?” Benedict’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you turned to him.

“Hm?”

“Whatever it is bothering you, you can tell me.”

“Nothing is bothering me,” you said quickly and he raised his brows.

“Really? So you’re awake in the middle of the night because…?”

“Why are you awake in the middle of the night?” you asked back and he motioned at the house.

“I was painting.”

“How is that going?”

“Eh,” Benedict said. “There’s some flaw I can’t quite put my finger on just yet.”

“Is it you being critical or is there an actual flaw?”

“There’s an actual flaw I’m sure,” Benedict said and snapped his fingers. “Reminds me, you said you wanted to see downtown, right?”

You nodded.

“I just got an invitation for a party there towards the end of the week, a friend is throwing it. We could go if you’d like?”

Your jaw dropped. “Really?”

“Do you want to?”

“Of course I do!”

“Alright then,” he said with a chuckle. “It should be fun.”

You took a deep breath, your heart still beating in your ears as your gaze drifted down to his lips, then you turned your head to look at the flower bed in front of you, absentmindedly reaching out to rip a slightly yellow leaf from the stem.

“So I was thinking,” you said, your stomach doing a flip and Benedict hummed.

“About what?”

“Perhaps we, um…” you stammered, turning to him again but as soon as you casted a glance on his handsome face, your heart leaped to your throat, nervousness filling your whole system. You could swear you were getting lightheaded from the sudden rush, how would one even bring marriage consummation up?

Not to mention—

You were sure you wouldn’t fall in love but it could cloud your judgement, Benedict had told you people actually fell in love after the act sometimes. Not only that, but there was also the issue of you obviously not knowing of the act itself as much as you thought before, judging by what you had seen back at that party.

And it was very obvious Benedict had a lot of experience with it, unlike you.

“I was thinking that,” you started but changed your mind in the middle of the sentence. “It would upset me if you died.”

Benedict gawked at you, blinking a couple of times. “I’m sorry?”

Jesus Christ, you were absolutely a babbling fool tonight after that dream.

“Because, you know,” you motioned with your hands, your mind working nonstop to find the right words. “Andrew said something today and it made me think, and being a widow was my original plan as you remember.”

“Mm hm, I remember it very well.”

“But things change and I know you were joking back at the kitchen but I felt like you should know,” you said, stumbling over your words. “Hypothetically speaking, and also objectively speaking of course, if you died it would—” you swallowed thickly. “It would upset me terribly.”

Well, that was the underestimation of the goddamn century.

Even the thought of Benedict not being with you was enough to squeeze at your heart and you bit at your tongue, desperate to get rid of the thoughts of it before motioning at him.

“So yes, make sure not to do that.”

Benedict tilted his head. “Make sure not to die?”

“Was my request not clear?” you asked back, impatience laced in your tone and Benedict bit down a smile.

“It was,” he said, trying to adapt a serious expression. “It absolutely was. I’ll um…I’ll try my best?”

“Much appreciated,” you said, your heart still pacing in your chest, that restlessness making you fidget before you took a deep breath.

“Now that we cleared that out, I’ll try to get some sleep,” you said and jumped on your feet in an attempt to stop your own nonsense. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“Y/N, what—?” he started but you had already started walking away from him and you took a deep breath when you reached the front door again.

“Unbelievable…” you muttered at yourself and stepped inside, then made your way upstairs to your room, your cheeks still burning.

Chapter 20

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

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