If you put granola in chocolate pudding, it tastes like cocoa pebbles. I just needed to share lmao
He's been experimenting all week, the kitchen a whirlwind of flour, spices, and different fruits. And you're his taste taster, his bright blue eyes studying you carefully, noting every expression and sound you make as you chew.
Until today you had no idea how much he valued your opinion. To him, baking is an art and you are his muse. Bucky loves to bake and to see you smile, to see you enjoy and savor his work brings him happiness that he never thought possible.
It didn't take much to convince you to stay in the kitchen with him, music playing while he dances in front of the counters covered with bowls, cups, spoons, and so many fruits, sugars, and dough that you can't see the marble surface.
Every so often he turns to you with an anxious expression on his handsome face, his brows furrowing until a deep wrinkle forms between his eyes, a tasting spoon in his hand. "Alright Peach, tell me what you think?"
You moaned, actually moaned, when the red velvet and strawberry mixture exploded on your tongue and he added it to the new menu before you even finished licking the spoon. Bucky coated the rest of it on your lips, kissing you passionately until you felt dizzy. You twisted your lips to the side, unable to stop yourself from cringing after he fed you a heaping of the pomegranate and kale dough and he vowed to never do that to his peach again before kissing the taste out of your mouth.
Now he's holding something that looks vaguely questionable in front of your mouth. He holds the lumpy concoction up to your lips. "Aw trust me, Peach," he cajoles, his other hand cupping your ass, pulling you closer to him, his chubby belly pushing into you. "Just a little taste."
While part of you wants to decline, he looks so sweet that you know you'll try anything he gives you. Opening your lips, he slides the spoon in with a pleased hum. Bucky holds his breath, his gaze darting from your eyes to your lips and back. Then you let out a small sigh, mumbling out "Bucky that's so good."
He scrunches his nose, a wide grin curling his lips up. "Yeah, Peach? You like?"
"Oh, I like," you say, leaning forward to lick the spoon.
Bucky stares at your tongue moving across the silver surface. Suddenly, he doesn't care about anything in the oven. There's only one thing he wants right.
"Peach?" He says distractedly, his voice deepening, a shiver trailing down his spine. "I think it's my turn to have a taste."
Lifting your head, you smile at him. "Of course, you want me to grab some-"
He cuts you off with a shake of his head, squeezing your ass, his eyes drop between your bodies. "What I want is for you to get on that table and let me have a taste."
