#I just think a Peach who likes to work with her hands and Make Things is very canon

[emile-hides]

Little Mario Movie headcanon: Toadtown use to look more like the Toadtowns of Mario and Luigi and Paper Mario, just with a lot more stairs because Mountain.

Peach, who had just recently learned the power of moving platforms and floating blocks with her Mario Maker Obstacle Course, revamped the town when she was like 14 to include these and pipes so all the stubby legged Toads wouldn’t have to climb so many stairs to get everywhere.

[littlefreya]

Pictures of You

Summary: While Sy is deployed, his new girlfriend sends him nudes, and now he must take care of 'business' himself while fantasizing about the things he would do to her.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x himself x OFC

Word count: 1,200

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), pure smut, graphic depiction of sex (male x female), male masturbation, bodily fluids, accidental creampie, dirty language, punishment, Freya using "peach". Being caught in the act. A bit of fluff. Not beta'd.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, translating, copying it, or parts of it and claiming it as your own*

A/N: It's been a while since I posted. I am working on a series (plural), but I got inspired by a lovely anon today. I'm not sure if I'm tagging anyone since my tag list is probably outdated and I'm not sure who still wants on. So, if you enjoyed, reblog, or comment, let me know. I'd appreciate it. 🖤

Pictures of You

At last, night unfurled, and the camp became quiet. 

The glorified Captain retired to his quarters, exhausted from a day of training recruits and tedious paperwork. This deployment would be long, and though he loved being The Captain - Logan Syverson was beginning to miss home.

It was all because of her. Sy shouldn't have caught feelings, long-distance relationships were never his thing, but damn, she was something else; a woman way above his league, pretty, hot as hell and way too smart to be with a military grunt like him.

Needless to say, fucking her made him feel like a god. 

Stripping down to his boxer, Sy slumped into his bed with a huff and reached for the private cell phone stuffed in his drawer. 

Twenty unanswered messages appeared on the screen—three of them from her.

Joy painted his face at the sight of her name. Ignoring everything else, he went directly to read her messages.

“Missing my big Sy”, the first message read. 

The other - “something to make you think of me.”  

The last message was simply an attachment. Curious, Sy tapped it open.

‘Fucking hell.’

The unmistakable pang of desire instantly surged through his groin. 

There she was, his sweet woman, naked and spread open like a present unwrapped, especially for him. She was sitting on her bed, one breast gripped by her palm with her nipple peeking through dark-painted nails while her other hand toyed with the sweet peach between her thighs. 

“Fuck,” Sy muttered. Already rock-hard. Absentmindedly, his hand massaged the hefty bulge through the fabric of his boxers, eliciting a deep groan from under his breath. 

‘What are you doing to me, babygirl?” 

It wasn’t just her naked body and the way her finger teased her own slit, but the look she gave him, the familiar neediness in her gaze, the way she bit her lip. 

Damn, if she was here right now… He’d fucking punish her for teasing him so bad! He’d pin her to the wall with his hand around her throat and show her what happens to naughty girls who like playing such wicked games. 

Now he had three fucking months to go, and all he could think of was how bad he wanted to be inside her tight little cunt.

‘Well, guess I’ll have to take care of this myself…’

Springing his cock free from his boxers, he ran his rough fingers up and down the length of his imposing shaft - slow at first, as Sy enjoyed taking his time, just as he would with her. His thumb rolled across the crown of his cock, gently grazing the tip while he imagined flipping her against the pitted wall in this room. Make her take it from behind so he could look at that perfect rounded ass of hers and watch his cock slipping in and out of her body. 

Still holding the photo open, he focused on her succulent cunt before spitting onto his open palm and griping himself once again. Tighter this time, he squeezed onto his girth and began to fuck his own hand. 

Pants and groans sputtered from his mouth, his chest heaving as he gradually picked up the pace. In his fantasy, he parted her ass cheeks and teased her dripping little hole until she begged him to fuck him. Then he forced himself all the way in, making her cry out. 

The sounds of her moans echoed in his memory, so helpless and desperate at the same time - he was nearly too much for her; that narrow cavern of hers could barely take his leviathan cock, but still, she took every pounding, becoming wetter around his shaft as her body not only yielded to accommodate him but lured him deeper inside. 

“I want inside you, babygirl…” Sy mumbled out loud, his hand now moving in ecstatic fervour. Sweat dripped down the contracting muscles of his abs. Soon, he felt himself swell even larger, and his sack strained with the desperate need for release. 

He tightened his grip, now choking his shaft and thinking of how it felt when she came around him. How she contracted all around his cock and shattered like glass smashing on the floor.

“Don’t come inside….” She’d warned him. She wasn’t on the pill. But this time, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from filling her full of his cum, and maybe… he wouldn’t want to… 

It was his fantasy, after all. 

“FUCK!!!” 

With the image spilling inside her, he allowed himself to be swept by the fierce waves of pleasure, his entire body buzzing with bliss as hot, thick ribbons of ecstasy spilt over his fingers. He might have shouted too loudly, but it’s not like he ever gave a fuck. 

It took Sy a few good minutes to climb down to earth, and then he chuckled hoarsely as he noticed the mess he had left on his hand. Shaking his head, he reached for a towel and wiped himself clean before returning to gaze at her photo. 

“What am I gonna do with you, doll?”

Well, there was an idea. He could repay the favour by sending her a photo of himself. Usually, he was against this type of stuff, but what she did was particularly risky for a woman, and if she was bold enough to treat him, he could do the same. Besides, they had three months until they could meet again. He better make sure she remembered who she belonged to.  

He stroked himself lightly. Still semi-hard, he wondered whether he could work himself to another erection this soon when a knock sounded at the door.

“Mother of f…. One moment !!!” 

Sy yelled. Irritated, he briefly tucked his shaft back in his boxers and jumped out of bed. The room smelled rancid, but Sy couldn’t bring himself to care. He couldn’t even bring himself to put on a shirt as he rushed to the door.

“What?” He grunted before getting to see who was on the other side.

‘Well, fuck me sideways.’

It was a woman because why the hell not? Private Hicks, to be precise. The young thing’s eyes flared with surprise and then snapped to the floor to avoid staring at her sweaty, half-naked superior, but not before catching a glance of his hairy, tattooed chest and the semi-erected bulge in his groin.

The strong scent of sweat and sex hit her nostrils like a smack in the face. It took everything not to curl her face. There was no need to put two and two together to realise what she had just intruded. 

“Sir.” Hicks saluted in badly hidden embarrassment. 

Sy let out a deep sigh. Clearly, she knew what he was doing before she arrived. She probably heard him come all over himself right before knocking. Frankly, he wasn’t ashamed. 

“Get on with it, Private.”

“Sir,” she repeated, her voice a slight tremble. “ I’m sorry to bother you… but the Major asked me to get you.” 

Sy scratched the back of his head and groaned deeply. “Tell him I’ll be there in 10.” 

Without any other comment, he shut the door, leaving Hicks to wander back to the Major’s office, all shaken and quaking. 

As she walked away, she couldn’t help but bite her lips. All across her body, she felt those little electric streams of excitement, and her breath suddenly became shallow. She shouldn’t have thought of her superior like this, on what he did behind that closed door just a moment before she arrived, but Captain Syverson was too hot to handle and, needless to say, too loud. 

Well, she’d have to take care of herself later…

[loaksky]

— 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 & 𝒊 | 𝒆. 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒔

mean neighbor!ellie x sunshine fem!reader, angst / fluff / hurt + comfort, modern!au warnings: language / 18+ content (mdni!), wc: 5k

you have a hot new neighbor…too bad she doesn’t want a thing to do with you!

tagging those who commented / liked my previous interest post!: @loversreligion , @tahni-04 , @parrotpeggy , @acnologiasgf , @maybe-cece (happy birthday gemini queen ! <3)

an — first time writing for ellie ! content warnings include oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving). not my first time writing 18+ content, but my first time posting eeek. i apologize for the person ellie has turned me into lmaooo. feel free to send me more ideas, blurbs, hcs, etc.

neighbor!ellie who moves in on a hot sticky july day.

ac’s busted in the common areas, elevator hasn’t worked in weeks, and she’s moved into a unit on the fifth floor.

neighbor!ellie who’s admittedly too far gone and incredibly irritated because jesse keeps fucking around and they almost drop her flat screen on the third flight of steps.

neighbor!ellie who finally gets most of the boxes and furniture settled and doesn’t even get to collapse on the couch for .2 seconds before someone’s knocking on the door.

yanks the knob so hard, the door rattles on its hinges.

eyes narrow when she sees you, all neat, not sweaty, dressed in an outfit definitely not indicative of a night in. only makes her even more annoyed because she just wants two seconds of peace.

“yes?” her tone is sharp, gaze bored because your lips part thrice before the words are spilling out.

“i know it’s miserable out, and this building can be a piece of shit, so i made some blackberry tea!”

neighbor!ellie who gives the glass, beaded with condensation, a brief glance before crossing her arms over her chest.

“i’m allergic to blackberries,” ellie says flatly.

your round eyes widen impossibly before tucking the glass behind your back.

“oh fuck, i’m so sorry,” you babble. “i have peach! or maybe mint? i—”

“i’ll pass.”

neighbor!ellie who doesn’t beat around the bush and makes a move to close the door because she hadn’t even checked into the conversation.

“if you ever need anything, i’m right next door!” you chirp. “i’m-”

“yup, yeah, got it. good night.”

and the door is shutting in your face.

neighbor!ellie who’s trying to sleep in because she stayed up all night playing tekken 4 with jesse jolting awake when she hears three soft raps against the front door.

has an inkling of who it could be so she’s only mildly surprised when she sees you standing on the welcome mat that says ‘no weenies allowed’ because jesse thought it was the funniest thing (ellie’d been only slightly amused).

“morning,” you smile.

you have a plate covered in foil in your hands and ellie gives you a brief onceover to find that you’re dressed to the nines again (admittedly it’s just a simple sundress, but the red and white ginham cuts at the meatiest part of your thighs and she has to remind herself to keep her eyes up).

“it’s…” ellie trails off, glances at the clock on the oven to find that it’s not even 9am. “…8:52am on a saturday morning.”

“it is,” you agree, extending the plate to her. “i, uh, hope you’re not allergic to pancakes?”

“…i’m not.”

you beam.

“great!”

you’re shoving the food in her hands before she can decline and ellie finds that the ceramic is still warm.

neighbor!ellie who awkwardly holds the plate up to you as a silent thanks and shuts the door in your hopeful face.

“i gotta give it to you williams, didn’t think you’d pull within 24 hours,” jesse mutters groggily from the couch he’d helped her lug up the stairs yesterday afternoon.

“oh fuck off,” she huffs, tearing the foil from the plate to find a five-stack of fluffy pancakes with two cute little strawberry-shaped containers that has butter and syrup respectively.

“who’s it from?” jesse asks, even though he knows the answer.

“girl in 5a.”

first bite in and ellie’s eyebrows raise because wow, that’s damn good.

jesse swipes a bite despite ellie’s protests and they polish off the matching plate that she puffs a laugh at because there’s a strawberry bandit painted in the center and in shoddy lettering says, “this is a strobbery”

neighbor!ellie who surprises you by washing and returning the plate later that evening, muttering out a quick thanks before ducking back into her apartment without another word.

she leaves you blinking, staring at the space she was previously standing in a moment prior before you smile and shut the door because god ellie is so hot.

neighbor!ellie doesn’t expect it to become a routine, but more often than not, you’re knocking on her door at any given hour with snacks and she’s surprised when, a week and a half in, she’s had to do minimal grocery shopping because you’re always feeding her.

little does she know it’s because you’re looking forward to the brief moments that she’s unintentionally banging on your door to return your plates and dinnerware.

neighbor!ellie who’s a mechanic and brings your goodies to work sometimes and gets teased by the other mechanics because they think she has a girlfriend.

neighbor!ellie who after revealing she works in a garage starts opening up her front door to little reusable bags with cute notes and food puns if your schedule’s don’t line up.

neighbor!ellie whose schedule does end up frequently aligning with yours and you end up taking the same elevator down.

“morning, ellie,” you greet, smiling softly at her despite being up at the asscrack of dawn.

neighbor!ellie who yawns, takes the lunch you made for her gratefully and walks with you to the elevator.

“morning, 5a.”

neighbor!ellie who could get used to only seeing you in the fifth floor halls, however, after a few weeks, you stumble upon her in different circumstances.

you’re usually out on your balcony in the early mornings to water your plants and drink your tea or coffee, but today’s been exceptionally rough at work (you’re, surprise, a café owner) so you step out to take a deep breath late in the evening after your shift.

you definitely don’t expect to find ellie perched on a stool flicking the ash from a blunt over the railing.

“‘sup,” she hums, taking a long pull.

“hey,” you sigh.

“long day?” she humors you.

the two of you don’t really have much conversation because ellie’s always finding ways to cut interactions with you short.

and it’s not particularly because she doesn’t like you, but she’s caught the vibe you’re giving off and she doesn’t want to give you any unnecessary hope, especially after such a messy break up with the last girl.

(it’s definitely not because something about you makes her nervous).

so she doesn’t really expect you to spill, but one moment you’re debating whether or not you should divulge and the next you’re talking a mile a minute about how draining the job can be especially when employees end up being unreliable and the customers are impatient.

ellie’s gone through the entire joint and you still haven’t stopped talking and she doesn’t want to be mean, especially because you’ve been so nice to her since she’s moved in, but the high is wearing off because she’s too focused on finding an out of the one-sided conversation.

“you should come by,” you say, once you’re done babbling. “to the café, i mean. bring your friends, i’ll stay open a little later for you guys.”

that catches ellie’s attention after she’d zoned out.

“i— you don’t have to do that,” she says. “and i mean, we’re all pretty busy and—”

“no, no!” you say sweetly. “i insist! i wanna test out a few new seasonal recipes and i’d love some opinions!”

ellie’s wracking her brain, but you’re looking at her so hopefully and you look too cute with a few strands of hair falling from your updo. she really doesn’t want to give in, so she gives a lukewarm response instead.

“i’ll, uh, get back to you, i guess.”

you’re grinning.

“try to clear saturday night!” you tell her. “sometime around 9:30!”

ellie opens her mouth to give one last protest, but you’re standing from where you’d been leaning against the railing.

“it’ll be fun!” you tell her. “night, ellie!”

neighbor!ellie who really doesn’t want to go because she feels like it’ll only add fuel to the fire.

the beginning of the week rolls around and you decide that this’ll be the week you’ll finally ask ellie out.

you figure that ellie’s just really quiet, isn’t the one to really put herself out there, so you wanna take initiative.

you’re thinking of all the different recipes you could try because you really wanna wow her and her friends.

little does ellie know that you’re lowkey agonizing over saturday and it’s all you can think about: what you’ll wear, what pairings you want to present, how you’ll decorate the cafe.

meanwhile, ellie’s trying to find a way out of it and jesse’s not any help because he keeps teasing her about how she must be broken for not wanting her hot neighbor who has a glaringly obvious crush on her.

everyone on the whole floor, possibly even the whole building knows. hell, even the doorman knows (and it’s definitely not because you stop to chat with him frequently when you walk your little beagle, apple, and ellie becomes a frequent topic of conversation).

neighbor!ellie who starts avoiding you because she fears that her being receptive to your kindness is giving you the wrong idea (definitely not because you’re growing on her and you’re becoming a part of her daily routine).

neighbor!ellie who sees you twice the entire week, doesn’t answer the door when you knock, stuffs your cute little post-its about saturday somewhere in the back of her junk drawer, smokes her blunts on the roof to avoid running into on the balcony.

neighbor!ellie who spends most of her time at the garage with jesse and her coworkers in efforts to get home after you do.

you figure that maybe she is really busy and you shouldn’t have been so pushy about the tasting, but you’ve grown to really like her and you can’t give this up without officially giving it a shot.

neighbor!ellie who ducks out of her apartment when she knows you’re out on saturday and leaves her lights off, so you’ll know she isn’t home.

neighbor!ellie who spends the day with jesse and his girl and gets invited to a kickback on the otherside of town.

neighbor!ellie who’s about two joints in and a couple shots out, so she’s crossed by nine and you completely slip her mind.

you’re on the other side of town, about a block from your apartment, waiting in the cafe for ellie.

you made such a pretty spread of lavender matcha cookies and lemon muffins. used your special espresso roast to brew a delicious batch of coffee to make a few lattes.

you’d even bought flowers from next door, decorated the table and light a few candles.

it’s 9:45 and you think that she’s gonna be late, but time’s passing and the pastries are going stale, the coffee going lukewarm.

it’s 10:30 when you start losing hope.

probably 11:30 when you blow out the candles, box up the treats and throw the espresso in the cooler for some iced coffee tomorrow morning.

you should’ve seen it coming, really. she did say that her and her friends were typically busy. and she hadn’t officially confirmed it with you either so you were being rather presumptuous anyways.

you decide that maybe you’ll just drop them by her place tomorrow and ask her to lunch!

it’s about midnight when you walk up the sidewalk and see that her LEDs are on in her room. it vaguely smells like weed so you figure she’d been smoking a little.

you don’t wanna bother her so late at night so you enter your own apartment, set the box on the kitchen island before padding into your room to get ready for bed.

you should’ve seen it coming, ellie standing you up, but what you don’t see coming, or hear, for that matter, are the muffled moans through the paper thin walls.

you’d been used to hearing ellie cuss at her video games, heard her getting better at playing the guitar, bickering with jesse over who got to be who during smash bros, but this was new.

you’d never heard the voice before, pitched and whiny.

your cheeks warm because whatever ellie’s doing must be good. you can’t even find it in yourself to be relieved that ellie was interested in girls. you’d initially been scared that maybe you were reading into it all wrong.

regardless, obviously you’d read everything way way wrong because ellie’s mouth is filthy and there’s no misconstruing the fact that she’s fucking someone six ways to sunday and you can hear every gory detail.

your stomach is churning because it’s been weeks and you couldn’t even get ellie outside the fifth floor’s hallway.

it’s obvious they’re thoroughly enjoying themselves and the hurt and envy that kindles is an ugly sight to see.

you end up sleeping in the living room that night.

neighbor!ellie who chases the girl out the following morning after a nasty hangover and finally coming to terms with the fact that she’d brought someone home last night.

neighbor!ellie whose stomach drops to her ass when someone knocks on the door a few minutes later and she thinks it’s you, but it ends up being jesse.

“jesus, did 5a do that?” he asks, referring to your apartment number in regards to the fresh hickies blooming up the column of ellie’s throat.

“god no,” ellie says. “how many times do i have to tell you, that’s never happening.”

neighbor!ellie who would never tell a soul that she’d been imagining a certain someone the night prior.

neighbor!ellie who doesn’t want to think of anything more than being your neighbor because she’s locked in this lease for the next two years and she’d prefer to not shit where she sleeps.

(yeah, that’s totally it).

“dude why not? she’s obviously so down bad for you,” jesse chuckles, pushing past ellie.

she huffs a breath, defensive.

“god, i don’t know how she isn’t embarrassed, it’s fuckin’ pathetic.”

oh—

you’d heard jesse’s voice, then ellie’s, and figured you could give her the pastries you worked so hard on last night.

you’d always thought that ellie was just naturally aloof, kept to herself often, but last night was the coffin and this morning was the nail.

in the stillness of your apartment, jesse and ellie’s voice carries through the thin walls.

“i mean, you could just fuck her a couple of times, get it out of your system?”

“god, look at her, there’s not a casual bone in her body.”

“you can’t run away from her forever, yknow?”

neighbor!ellie who thinks to herself that she’ll try anyways.

neighbor!ellie who doesn’t have to try, because you become an enigma after that.

it’s the middle of the week and she hasn’t had to even try avoiding you once.

you haven’t knocked on her door since the week prior and it makes her brows furrow.

neighbor!ellie who starts feeling bad for standing you up, but feels infinitely worse when she goes to dump some of her trash and finds the carton of pastries you’d baked.

they have your café’s name emblazoned on the logo and she vaguely remembers you chattering about trying lavender in one of your recipes.

she sees the purple food coloring and her heart sinks because why are they in the trash? :(

realizes that she’s fucked up and that maybe she should just be completely transparent with you.

neighbor!ellie who hesitantly knocks on your door and waits patiently for you to answer.

hears shuffling on the other side, but you don’t open up.

neighbor!ellie who tries to convince herself that you’re just busy! work is stressful right now and you’re keeping to yourself.

but you two end up bumping into each other on the elevator (she’d been lurking), and you give her a curt greeting because you’re polite and you realize that ellie doesn’t owe you anything.

“apple’s got a haircut,” she observes, leaning down to pet the pup.

“yeah,” you hum.

“she looks cute,” ellie compliments.

“thanks.”

neighbor!ellie who’s not used to you icing her out, so she takes the leap.

“hey, i wanted to apologize…” she trails off. “about saturday. i shouldn’t have flaked.”

“s’okay,” you say simply, watching as the numbers painfully descend. “you were busy.”

a blanket of silence.

“i’m sure the pastries were great,” ellie tries again. “we could always—”

the elevator dings and the doors part.

“have a good day, ellie,” you say softly, tugging apple by the leash to leave the lift.

neighbor!ellie who swears she hears you sniffling on the other side of the wall later that night, but tries to convince herself that you’ve just got allergies.

neighbor!ellie who thinks of every excuse in the book to try and talk to you, but she ends up freezing because fuck, have you always been this pretty?

neighbor!ellie who buys a succulent and puts it on her balcony. she tries to catch you in the mornings when you’re watering your plants, but it seems like your schedules just don’t align anymore.

neighbor!ellie is frustrated as fuck because she’d been avoiding getting attached, but you don’t knock on her door to deliver snacks or talk her ear off anymore and it drives her absolutely nuts.

neighbor!ellie who gets teased infinitely more at work because her coworkers are now convinced that there’s ‘trouble in paradise’.

“jesus christ, you’re actually pathetic,” jesse rolls his eyes over breakfast one weekend.

“dude, she just…” ellie lets out a frustrated sigh. “i just—”

“you miss her,” he fills in.

ellie turns red.

“fuck you, i don’t—”

“it’s okay to admit it, yknow?” he says. “she’s a lot different from your exes. she’s genuinely sweet, in it because she really likes you.”

ellie swallows, lips pursing.

“you’re soft around her,” jesse observes. “you think that if you give in, she’s gonna uncover parts of you you don’t even let me or joel see.”

“fuck you—”

“for someone who likes bitches you—”

ellie groans.

neighbor!ellie who goes home and rolls a joint because this limbo is stressing her out.

and FINALLY! you’re watering your plants on your balcony when she slides the patio door open and slinks outside.

you don’t say anything to her, just continue watering.

she slumps in her folding lawn chair, kicking her feet up on the railing to feign nonchalance, but you haven’t blinked an eye at her and she’s annoyed.

“been doing alright?” she asks finally.

you freeze for the briefest of moments before glancing at her.

you’ve got bags under your eyes and your lips are pursed and ellie’s heart squeezes.

“yeah,” you answer simply. “fine.”

ellie hums.

“how’s work?”

“same old,” you say, turning your back to her to tend to the plants housed on the other side.

neighbor!ellie who doesn’t know what to say. who’s so used to trying to break conversation, not make them.

neighbor!ellie who fidgets because you’re making her nervous. you’re usually so sweet and smiley, but this side of you makes her gut churn.

neighbor!ellie who bites the bullet.

“i’m…i’m off on sunday…” she says, scratching the back of her neck. “if you wanted to— i dunno.”

your back straightens and she thinks you’re gonna bite, but you glance at the sidewalk below and shake your head.

“you don’t have to pretend, you know?” you say softly.

it’s like a punch in the chest and ellie’s scrambling.

“no! it’s—” she realizes she’s shouting. “it’s not like that, i—”

“i’m a big girl, ellie,” you tell her, that stupid little strawberry-shaped spray bottle squeezed tight in your hand. “if i was annoying, you could have just said that.”

and god she feels so fucking awful because this entire time, you’d just been trying to be nice to her. it was a harmless crush and—

“i don’t think you’re annoying,” she argues weakly. “can you…can you look at me, please?”

your head tilts up and ellie realizes that you’re trying to stop yourself from crying.

“god, i really am pathetic,” is your watery whisper.

ellie’s crossing the balcony, fully ready to climb over the railing onto your patio, but you’re quickly dashing away the tears and throwing the sliding door open.

“goodnight,” you tell her, and you’re sealing her out in the humid air.

neighbor!ellie who’s in knots because living next to someone she used to see everyday fucking sucks now that all the two of you are reduced to is straining extra hard to hear your shuffling from the other side of the walls.

neighbor!ellie who stands in front of your door sometimes, wanting to knock, but feeling like she doesn’t deserve closure with you because it’s all her fault.

neighbor!ellie who realizes that the very awkwardness and discomfort she was avoiding to begin with could’ve been avoidable had she just been up front with you.

you were sweet and you were understanding…mature. you would’ve probably taken better to honesty than ellie blowing you off and lowkey being an ass to you.

neighbor!ellie being scolded by jesse after a couple of days pass because he’s beating her ass at smash bros without even trying and it’s hurting his ego.

“are you seriously gonna keep moping over 5a?” he asks after the fourth round won.

“i’m not moping,” ellie grumbles.

“oh c’mon dude,” jesse moans in annoyance. “you and 5a have this dad with four kids who doesn’t want a puppy but ends up loving the shit out of the—”

“i do not love her,” ellie barks.

jesse smirks.

“that’s all you took from that, ellie, seriously?” jesse scoffs.

“i mean, it’s not like there’s much that can be done, anyways,” ellie grunts, tossing the video game controller onto the coffee table’s surface. “she fuckin’ hates me and i don’t blame her.”

“5a does not hate you,” jesse sighs. “her feelings are just hurt, but you can fix it.”

“and how’s that?” ellie crosses her arms over her chest.

“you’re a smart girl, you’ll figure it out.” jesse grabs the discarded controller from the coffee table and shoves it into ellie’s chest. “now put your all into this next round, i’m still gonna beat your ass.”

neighbor!ellie who’s never felt more nervous in her life.

who’s standing a block away from the café you own with a little gift bag and a bouquet of flowers.

neighbor!ellie who’s used to effortless relationships and casual situationships.

neighbor!ellie who’s scared shitless that she’s making the wrong decision giving in like this, but maybe jesse’s right and you’re just what she needs.

neighbor!ellie whose hands shake the entire walk up to the café.

she sees you with your back turned towards the door, probably doing closing inventory or something of the like with the way you scribble quickly against a clipboard.

you look so in your element with your apron tied tight around the narrow of your waist and perhaps now’s not the appropriate time, but your work pants look exceptionally great spread over the—

“i’m sorry, but we’re closed for the evening,” your voice sounds when ellie opens the front door and the chime tinkles against the glass.

“i’ll make it quick,” ellie says quietly, paper wrap around the flowers crinkling as she shifts on her feet.

you whirl around with wide eyes, almost dropping the clipboard when you find your neighbor standing in the middle of your café.

she looks so good in a fitted brown button up rolled to the elbow to reveal the whorls of ink decorating her forearms and skinny jeans that are way too good at highlighting the muscles of her thighs.

“ellie, what are you doing here?” you ask, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“i was, er, in the area?”

one of your eyebrows raise.

“well, is there something i can help you with?” you ask, eyeing the flowers and the giftbag in what ellie can only read as disdain.

it’s like the day you two first met all over again but the roles are reversed. her lips gape once, twice, then three times as she tries to find the words. but ellie’s never been good at talking about how she feels, at being vulnerable.

“i have to close up,” you prod, tone tired. “and whoever you’re visiting after this is probably waiting.”

the words after are a silent insinuation.

god knows i did.

you’re turning on your heel and ellie knows she’s losing you.

“i like you.” she says suddenly.

you freeze, fist tightening mercilessly around your clipboard.

“that’s not funny,” you say stonily. “you don’t have to make an ass out of me for having feelings for you, ellie. i get it, it’s hilarious that your dorky neighbor has a crush on you, but you don’t have to drag it. i’m—”

neighbor!ellie who’s always thought that you talk a tad too much and sets the gifts on the nearest table before crossing the distance between the two of you.

she’s towering over you and you’re looking up at her with furrowed brows as she pries the clipboard from your fingers and kisses you without another word.

“wait, wait,” you whisper, pulling away from her momentarily.

her lips chase yours, one hand splaying over the small of your back as the other cradles your chin.

“i’m sorry,” she says quietly. “i didn’t—”

“i don’t understand,” you admit. “you…you and your friend were—”

ellie shakes her head vehemently.

“i was being stupid,” she says quickly. “it’s—” she sighs. “it’s a long story.”

“but the night of the tasting,” you start. “you brought someone home…i heard you.”

ellie closes her eyes in defeat, rolls her lips as she presses her forehead against yours.

“it was a mistake, you have to believe me,” she pleads softly. “i was drunk out of my mind and high as hell and—”

she stops talking when she sees the expression on your face, notices the way your fingers hover.

“you have every right not to entertain this,” ellie swallows. “and i know i’ve been awful to you, but i…i really like you 5a.”

your head tilts down and ellie’s leaning forward in an effort to keep the eye contact.

“i’m not good at stuff like this,” she confesses. “obviously.”

you breathe out an involuntary laugh.

“but you’re different, really different,” ellie says. “and you make me feel so fuckin’ weird—”

you flinch.

“a good weird!” she assuages. “it’s good. and i really wanna try things with you if you’ll let me.”

you look hesitant, but ellie’s hopeful and you’ve always been a sucker for green eyes.

18+ BONUS

neighbor!ellie really wanted to take things slow with you after officially winning you over, but she can’t really help herself.

she takes you out a week after your heart-to-heart in your café, a nice restaurant you’d chattered about during your elevator rides to the lobby, and she’d been so close to making it through dinner and keeping it appropriate, but the dessert the two of you ordered had strawberries.

needless to say, when you’d taken a bite into the candied fruit and the juice curved down your jaw and slithered between your cleavage, ellie threw a wad of bills onto the table top and dragged you out of the restaurant.

didn’t make it far, ended up at the edge of the parking lot in the back seat of her car with two of her fingers knuckles deep in your heat while she swallowed your moans whole.

neighbor!ellie who takes you to hers after you cum twice and she tastes you for the first time.

“fuck, angel,” she whispers against your clit. “pussy’s too good.”

the sight is a devastating one, your skirt bunched around your waist and your top discarded somewhere on her bedroom floor.

one of your hands bunches her sheets in your fist, the other threaded through her brown hair as she eats you out like she’s absolutely starved.

“that’s it, princess,” she eggs you on, stuffing her fingers and curling against the walls of your spongy cunt. her tongue is sloppy against your little bud and your dulcet moans are buttery soft, absolute music to her ears.

that night seems to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back because she can’t get enough of you.

especially not when you wear that red and white gingham sundress you’d worn the second time the two of you met.

neighbor!ellie who spends so much time in your apartment now, likes to especially when you’re baking because you wear that stupidly tiny dress in your stupidly tiny kitchen and it takes every ounce of self control to keep her kisses on your exposed shoulders appropriate.

you start kneading the dough and she can’t keep her hands to herself, hooking her jaw into the crook of your neck as her fingers dance under the hem of your dress and ghosts the seam of your thighs.

“y’look so pretty,” ellie hums, tongue darting to lave at the juncture of your jaw and your neck.

“wait, ah!” fingertips trace over your mound and a semi-giddy, semi-disbelieving laugh rumbles from ellie’s chest when she finds you aren’t wearing any panties.

“you’re a dirty girl, angel,” she bites, one arm securing around your waist, the other toying with the slick coating your inner thighs. “what happened to getting work done?”

all you manage is a breathy cry when ellie skips the formalities and taps your clit roughly.

“el—ellie!” you whimper, one of your flour dusted hands wrapping around her wrist as your back arches and your ass presses into her hips.

your body stutters when you feel something nestle between the pert cheeks of your ass.

you throw a surprised look over your shoulder and ellie’s already grinning lazily at you as she continues kissing all over you.

“surprise,” she whispers.

neighbor!ellie who’s so gone. who still constantly gets teased by jesse and her coworkers. who wasn’t willing to admit it at first, but wants absolutely everything to do with you.

neng © 2023

[sunboki]

— BRIGHTER PLACES. a Lee Felix fiction

Chef! Lee Felix x gn. reader

TROPE. cooking class au, childhood friends to lovers, reader is burnt out and slightly depressed, coincidences, fluff, angst

WARNINGS. mentions of depression/depressive episodes, mentions of unrequited love, burn out, reader is used by her boss, felix is the biggest sweetheart to exist

AUG'S NOTES. was intended to be posted much earlier than this but i’m still glad that, with life being so busy, i managed to finish it! this piece is only the start of many emotional pieces over the summer so stay tuned please! hopefully you enjoy 🫶🏼

SYNOPSIS. Thrown asunder beneath crushing assignments, work, and the fleeting hope your “young and free” twenties experience may someday happen, you had yet to realize said experience was right around the corner. Whisked into a mixture of unearthed feelings and past occurrences, presented with a cherry on top by renowned Chef Lee Felix.

or alternatively :

Eventually, the sun will shine again.

Out of any gift you’ve received, you thought the treehouse in your backyard was the most memorable. It seemed like, in this vast universe, everything was right.

Then it wasn’t, then it was. Again and again. A repetitive cycle.

However, your overcast days did have an expiration date, and sunshine would eventually show itself again.

You just weren’t aware yet.

.

.

.

At seven years old, you would spend hours daydreaming, inviting friends, taking naps, and reading in your treehouse. Oftentimes, during the long days of summer, you’d eat lunch up there; lost in this secluded world only you knew about.

When you’re younger, every little thing appears peach-tinted.

The warm fire of a candle on a nightstand, setting dull objects ablaze with its brightness. Shadow puppets, dance parties. So ordinary yet exceptional all the same. Easy to configure from a developing mind as something excellent, fantastical.

Your twenties don’t envelop a hazy glow. Mind now hardened, treehouse still lingering (more like rotting) in the backyard of your parents house, things are more serious, less inviting.

Who knew adulthood would be this lonesome.

Walking from a bar, you fail to appreciate the hum of music from a buzzed radio, the wafting smell of Italian food hidden somewhere in the midst of neon signs and outdoor eateries.

Instead, priorities had lodged themselves indefinitely far into your soul, drowning out the voice telling you you’re you, not the expectations you’re held to.

Further and further did you drift into that intoxicating headspace, until someone—or, in your case, something—had to pull you out.

That something being a cooking—well, baking class. This weekend, an hour and a half. Menu: The Ideal Donuts.

“Think of it as a release,” Sana had told you, this wide, excited smile etching the skin of her face.

Immediately, you wanted to hand it back to her, tell the eccentric best friend of yours to spend such an occasion on herself instead.

Yet, you knew better than to try negotiating with Sana, the girl who has been present through your ugliest moments, who you’ve cried to more times than able to count.

Your intention wasn’t an attempt to make your life as miserable as possible. In fact, each day you strived for a resource, an indication things would grow better, as better as it seemed to be for everyone else.

Though you can only stretch a rubber band so far, and once it reaches its farthest extent, it snaps.

And the recoil stings.

“Okay, thank you.” You respond after a beat of silence, lips pulled into a tight line, investigating the information written on the card.

She pats your shoulder, a sweet smile worn upon pink lipstick.

Lee’s Baking Class.

Lee. The name sounds familiar.

Awkward. Everybody has their awkward moments, but you’re certain this one takes the cake. 

The entirety of the class had fallen still, engulfed in a silence you can feel gathering in your chest, sending nausea building like bile in your throat.

His brown eyes merely blink, ignorant to your inner turmoil.

Lee Felix’s brown eyes, shining like muddy globes, seem to encapsulate every ounce of affection. Affection you once had for him, affection you refuse to unearth if it costs your life. 

Perhaps that's the stem of the awkwardness—harbored feelings.

How awful. 

Just your luck.

“Y/N?”

It even sounds worse falling from his lips. Sweet, just like he is, Felix is. 

Felix has always been sweet, always inviting. Seems you accepted without realizing you were never invited to the party.

Staring like a deer caught in headlights, it takes the man clearing his throat for you to acknowledge your position. 

“You can uh, find a seat if you’d like?”

‘You can shoot me if you’d like’ you think, very much grateful mind readers don’t exist.

Nodding profusely and scurrying to the nearest table out of the four aligned throughout the room, you find yourself paired with three elderly ladies who quarrel in rabid conversation about baking powder—though it doesn’t bother you, the frenzied chatter leaves leeway to think.

As memorable as the treehouse was, it was also memorable for.. Other reasons as well. One reason in particular being that it wasn’t always just you reading and daydreaming up there, but Lee Felix too.

Since primary school the two of you had been conjoined at the hip. Between friendly rivalries and the fact he was your neighbor, there wasn’t a two day period you weren’t together. 

And with that, came a crush. 

But it was different with Felix, different because just as you’d been conjoined to the hip as friends, this time, you were still conjoined, but he was your crush.

And it’s a whole lot easier playing off a crush when you aren’t with them 24/7.

Before you knew it, you had fallen head over heels in love. To a degree you realized you can’t, can’t do what you’ve always done, can’t pretend your feelings are nonexistent any longer.

So you fled. 

The moment high school began, you located the furthest place available and begged your parents to let you attend. It wasn’t that you hated Felix, more than anything you hated yourself for falling in love–not that it could be helped. 

No matter how illogical you deemed it, your heart would prove stronger. Maybe that was your epitome.

Your number one priority had been avoiding him thus far, and you thought you were doing a pretty decent job at it, using the excuse that high school offered better opportunities to mask your internal guilt, and staying on that side of the city when you graduated.

Nonetheless, it seems the effort was in vain, especially now that you’re facing him again.

No. You refuse to dwell on the past, not when you’ve made it this far.

In front of you sits all the necessary utensils. Measuring cups and spoons, coordinating bowls, and the ingredients included as well. 

Thank goodness for that, you were scared you’d mess up and Felix would have to step in. Plus, the rules of this game came easy. Participate without contact and leave with a sweet treat in hand.

Except, you’re quick to understand those rules of the game may only apply in your case by the gaze boring into your back.

Great.

“I didn’t anticipate a young lady being so aggressive,” A voice to your right piques, surveying the furious manner in which you’re cracking an egg into the bowl.

Delivering a small smile and claiming you’re simply absorbed in your work, collective laughter sounds from the older women in response.

Taking a thirty minute break while the dough chills, you welcome conversation with anybody and everybody, attempting to evade the blond’s attempt at reaching out.

Way to be a jerk, Y/N. 

But, in the end, avoidance is the right course of action.

You can’t afford love, you’re too broke already as a student.

During the times he isn’t circulating, you spare periodic glances, marveling at those charming features of his, still the same as when you were younger but slightly more mature, sharper. Effortlessly kissable raspberry-tinged lips purse when he explains things, helping the participants knead dough with ring-clad fingers. That one’s new: rings.

The third time, you were caught, panickedly looking away as if an accident.

“Y/N I–” 

Speeding past while pretending to be occupied with checking the refrigerator holding your table’s donuts, his words become choked watching as you flee in the other direction, hand returning to his side where it extended to you.

You manage to survive the last few minutes unscathed, awaiting the sugary goodness lying just below your fingertips after hastily nodding to Felix in thanks and following the remainder of the class outside.

Success.

Or, whilst fetching your keys and finding where you had parked your car, so you thought.

Steam billows from your car's hood, refusing to even turn on while individuals alike grant you pitying simpers and continue on their exit.

Spoke too soon.

Even worse, your instructor, the man you thought you could run from after all, happens to walk out at that moment, witnessing your real-time destruction.

Not a success.

This was utter failure at the highest degree.

“So.. How’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

“How’s college?”

“Fine. ..And you?’

How you ended up in Lee Felix’s passenger seat is beyond you.

Well, not really. You just hate admitting you took the ride home he offered after your car broke down in the parking lot. In your defense, according to him, he already had to drop by the grocery store nearby.

It’s like an interrogation, your replies quick and unenthusiastic, his unwavering in enthusiasm, unyielding to the coldness you’re giving him.

Like you said, it wasn’t your intention hurting his feelings, nor being spiteful or brash. It was your coping mechanism.

This is how you got over him, or, how you’d like to say you got over him.

“Pretty busy, but I’m managing. How about you? I couldn’t get in contact, but I’m sure you got tons of offers, yeah?”

Seeing his face again didn’t help with the “getting over” part.

..Or the guilt at the “no contact” part either.

“Easy for you to say, you’re the successful one who got scouted by a culinary arts school.” The remark coming out spiteful, you scorn yourself. 

That’s another thing. Lee Felix is totally out of your league. 

He’ll always be number one, and you’ll always be second place. And not in an inferiority complex way, but in an honest way.

Felix chased his dreams to the end of the earth and got what he deserved out of it, and you thought you were doing the same, only to realize you were chasing him instead and leaving your own aspirations behind.

But that’s on you, not him, and you’ll likely spend the rest of your life wondering how you became so enamored in the first place.

Of course he wears that tear-worthy frown, periodically directing his attention to you while driving, face filled with overflowing concern.

How could anybody not fall in love with him?

“Y/N, you know that’s not true. I may have been scouted, but that doesn’t make me any better than anyone else. We’ve all worked hard to get where we are now, you included.”

Curse how weak you are for him. Why should he reassure you? You’re the prick that left him after countless years together, why is he consoling you?

Easy. He’s Felix. 

Before anything else, he’s loving. Felix is the embodiment of love in an individual. He’s self-sacrificing (a trait you swear Chan gave to him), caring, and the most unbearably adorable mother-hen.

And you’re not even close to getting over him.

Street names pass in a blur, leaving a lengthy silence to consume the drive. You distract yourself with a flickering traffic light in need of fixing, watching the man’s finger tap against the wheel to a song on the radio in your peripheral before he speaks again.

“..Do you still talk to Chris?”

His voice, a pleasing baritone now that he speaks slowly, surprises you for a moment.

“Yep.”

Even then you refuse to turn toward him, coming to a halt at a stop sign and simultaneously dreading the manner in which he dips his head lower.

“Hey.. Are you okay?”

You feel like throwing up.

“During the class you–”

“My stop is here.”

The words come out before you can comprehend them, too worried about distancing yourself to care that this is in fact not your stop and a random street instead.

Though hesitantly, he pulls the vehicle to the side.

“But there’s no houses nearby–”

“No, this is perfect,” You pitch, quickly unbuckling and opening up the door. “Thank you, Felix.”

Oh how you wish you never said that, wish you never made eye contact.

He makes you want to scream and cry and dig up all those stupid feeling’s you’d buried in the ground.

Pulling your clothing closer to your body as the evening cools, you grace him a ghost of a smile, shutting the car door and hurrying down the sidewalk while feebly attempting to locate how far your place would be from here.

Yet, he doesn’t drive past you.

Evidently unconvinced but failing to say it aloud, you fight off the warmth heating your face as his car rolls right beside you, following your hasty footsteps while walking.

“Are you sure this is your stop? It’s getting cold!” He shouts, leaning over from his seat to regard you.

This is it. When you had sworn your embarrassment couldn't get any more pathetic.

“I.. I’m fine! Just go!” You shout back, arms waving haphazardly like an embarrassed middle schooler until he finally (and begrudgingly) steers ahead of you, car disappearing in the distance.

At least that’s over. 

And yet, it feels like it’s just the beginning. You simply can’t explain why.

However, your main focus remains upon getting to safety. Safety being home.

The word has never sounded this pleasing before now.

So after thirty minutes running in circles to find your complex, you’re granted that much wanted safety, snuggled up in your cushions and turning on a show with evident delight in the mismatched pair of pajama pants and a hole-scattered top hanging off your shoulder. 

No more Felix thinking, it’s time to relax. 

What a joy.

Well, before your bottomless Pringle’s can abruptly spawns a bottom, hand frantically scurrying in search for more to no avail.

This is the peak of your show! How could someone possibly imagine viewing the climax without coordinating snacks? 

And just when you thought you had ultimately settled, you’re thrown into a torrential debate, one that, after much contemplation (and pacing) across the cold tile of your kitchen, sends you huffing and puffing to the nearest convenience store.  

Slipping past the sliding doors toward the designated aisle, you had yet to realize who else was roaming around the store.

A peculiar blond being that someone else.

It’s when you turn the corner to check out that you practically ram into each other, fear striking every fiber of your being, his eyes equally wide, but more puzzled than terrified—unlike you. 

“Besides, I need to run to the grocery store afterward.”

Crap.

Granted, the probability he lived nearby was likely. 

He's not required to stay a 300 meter radius from you anyway, so getting anxious about this shouldn’t be an issue. You’ll simply (hopefully not) say hi and be on your way.

Except, like most endeavors in your life so far, it is an issue. 

Because one, you’ve positively blasted your chances of avoidance after the entire car experience (which, frankly, you genuinely debate death because of) and two, he’s.. apparently following you.

Wait, he’s following you?

He, as in: Lee Felix, who ultimately fails at being nonchalant. Walking a few paces behind you, eyes quite obviously trained on your figure.

After your frantic rush past him while darting through self-checkout, the footsteps behind you do little to quell your heart’s rapid pace, only worsening with each passing second. 

You aimlessly ignore the sweat oiling your palms, pretending to be occupied with reading a label on your drink, hoping he’ll eventually look away.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he stays right on your tail, enough that while you break into a run through your door, he follows, jarring a foot in the door just as you begin slamming it shut.

Stalker, much?

Wielding the nearest weapon available in a panic, you’re frantic, whacking the unfortunate Pringle’s container with all your might toward the man.

“How.. How are you that fast– Ow! Ow ow- Wait- Y/N-”

Cowering down and covering his head with his arms while you furiously batter the man, it isn’t till a few specific words catch your attention that you stop.

“Your—“ Whack. “Car—“ Whack. “Was finished in the shop!”

Your what?

Hesitantly lowering his arms, Felix wears a sheepish smile, regarding your evidently frazzled, very much frantic appearance.

“For twenty minutes I’ve been trying to tell you.. your car is ready.. in the shop,” He breathes, doubling over with exhaustion. 

Meanwhile, you’re still recovering from your own exhaustion. An exhaustion that urged the realization you just beat up your lifelong love interest with a box of Pringles.. who is now in your house.

Lee Felix. In your house.

What a joy.

“....I’m sorry about your head.”

“No, I shouldn’t have intruded like that.”

You cover your face with your hands, wishing nothing more than to melt into a puddle.

“Are you-” He tips his head down, that kindly confused expression of his no help to your pounding heart. “Are you alright?”

Through your wallowing, your ears burn, voice muffled whilst practically drowning in misery.

“Give me a minute, I’m so embarrassed right now.”

It doesn’t help that he laughs afterward. A low, vocal laugh that rumbles in his throat and does little for your mental health.

Placing the discarded can back on a nearby countertop, you jolt when his fingers wrap around your wrists, gently ushering your hands from your face.

“But I was serious about what I said. Y/N, are you okay?”

Oh how tender he refers to you. Careful, quiet. As if too high of a pitch and his voice will shatter the air. You don’t mind.

Because in all honesty, you haven’t been okay. Nothing has been okay. It feels like you’re working, but what for? You’ve lost the sense of purpose from when you graduated, slowly but surely watched your motivation diminish right before your eyes. 

And you couldn’t do anything about it.

Chasing your tail in circles, round and around and around again has led you right to what you tried to run from in the first place. 

Him; the truth.

And yet, unlike earlier today, you can’t bring yourself to push him away, to ask him to leave. You savor his touch, even if it only lingers on your wrists.

Save me, your skin cries against his grip.

Luckily, Felix joins you in your wavelength, giving you permission to indulge in the abyss of his eyes, fall into the warmth and comfort the past brought in the safety of his arms. 

“Felix?” You verbalize, fragmented bits and pieces of life hidden within the words, muffled against the skin of his neck.

You missed Felix, but you’re starting to think you missed his hugs more.

“Yes?”

“I missed you.”

“Really? How much?”

You want to punch his gut, but you can’t will yourself to move.

“Too much.”

He chuckles, carefully pulling away.

“I have to head out, ‘got work early tomorrow. I can drop you off at the dealership when you’re free?”

Yes. This time, you can say yes. 

Your feelings will never change from how they always were, especially when it comes to Felix. That’s something you have to accept. 

Perhaps tomorrow you’ll get to see him again. 

Or perhaps you’ll wake up in your bed in a few seconds and all of this will be a dream. 

When he turns his back, you pinch yourself to make sure.

All real. 

“Thanks, that’d be great.”

Right before he closes your door, you call out to him again.

“And Felix?”

“Mhm?”

“..Call me when you’re done with work. I’ll pick up this time so… tell me all about those seven years apart.”

At this, he nods—and it’s sort of bittersweet seeing him leave, because this time you know you’ll see him again.

And, though you try, your attempt at sleeping proves useless—caught up in your head after quickly settling in bed, deciding to save everything else for another day.

The ceiling serves as your main muse, eyes unblinking whilst staring upward.

What is Felix doing right now? Your attention flits, scowling to yourself at how much you sound like a clingy girlfriend. 

Could you blame yourself though? You’re like a child waiting for Christmas presents. Except, this Christmas you’re unwrapping years upon years of time apart. 

Fortunately, after a multitude of hours awake, sleep beckons. And as if a split second later, with the morning sun lighting up your room and stirring you awake do you receive a call.

You planned to ignore and roll over, but it’s a specific someone on your mind that urges you to fetch the device.

“Hello?”

“Hey, what’re you up to?”

“Getting away from you,” You groan, pretending not to hear Chris’s chiding that it isn’t healthy to sleep till noon.

And although you were gonna use last night’s experience as an excuse, you decided against it, hoping sooner or later he’d hang up without any more questions.

“Wait.”

Your silence serves as a sign to continue.

“If he’s sleeping next to you right now—”

“No! No Chris what- where did you hear— what?”

Unable to process how he knew about Felix or if he was talking about Felix in the first place, you leave it to the audibly disheveled man to explain himself. 

“Look, I can explain. Sana told me she saw Felix go into your house last night, what was that about?”

Curse how Sana lives so close by. 

“Well, for the record, Dad, he didn’t sleep over. We just uh, talked, like adults do.”

Chris exhales a baffled guffaw.

“Like adults do? Never thought I’d hear that from you.”

“I’m full of surprises, what can I say.”

An additional silence ensues, awkwardly tapping your finger on the mattress.

“We um.. we were catching up.”

The man on the other side of the line grins. You can practically see it through the phone.

“..When you said that, you sounded really happy just now.”

“Huh?”

“When you talked about Felix, you sounded really happy. That’s good.”

You study the ceiling a second time, feeling a small smile and tug at your lips.

“He’s good to keep around y’know.”

Rolling your eyes and adjusting your position to face the window, you stretch your arms over your head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

You hear the ignition of his car in the distance.

“Whatever you want it to mean,” He chuckles. “I’m glad you got to see him though, I better contact him again now that you mention it, ‘need the Aussies to get together. Call you later?”

“Sure, bye Chris.”

Hanging up and collapsing onto your pillow, you yawn dramatically, gradually rising to your feet to open the blinds.

Then does it register to you this is the most enthusiastic you’ve ever been in a while—especially talking to a Chris—and not intentionally either. 

All of which comes down a single name, the one you were reminded to keep around.

Lee Felix. 

Picking up your phone, you make another call.

You

I’m on the way

Felix

(Felix liked your message)

I’ll be there as fast as I can!! Sorry, ran out of flour last night 😔

You

It’s all good, what’re you baking?

Felix 

Banana cake, want a slice?

You

Yes please!

Redirecting your attention back to the road, you’re careful not to miss the exit this time (as you’ve done endless times in the past). 

Almost to the café you planned to eat at with Felix, your phone lights up once more.

Yet, you forgot to check the number—your good mood diminishing instantly.

“Hey Fel—“

“Y/N, I need you in the office.”

Considering this is your boss you’re talking to, you pull into the parking lot, able to see Felix through the window—dressed to an unbearably handsome degree. 

“But today is my day off, I don’t clock in on Saturday’s,” Relaying the statement, your eyes narrow at the screen.  

“Well you’re going to have to. The office knows how capable you are. we need somebody like you here—we can count on you Y/N.”

You’ve been counting on me, for everything. 

That familiar weight settles into your chest, more and more pressure building at a nefarious level. You feel sick to your stomach, wanting nothing more than to drop the call and walk inside into work-free air.

However, you can’t. This job holds you down (in multiple ways), it’s stable, and provides good income—you can’t afford to drop it. 

But what are you supposed to say to Felix?

Everything feels too overwhelming at the moment, your lungs feel like exploding, using all your willpower to say something.

“..Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

And you hang up, gripping the steering wheel like a vice. 

It’s always like this. The moment you have a good thing, not even a day later everything falls apart. 

Never lasts.

You

Sorry, I can’t make it, work called.

Felix 

But haven’t you worked a lot this week? Why not take today off?

You 

Can’t, see you another time

How selfish, you tell yourself, throwing your phone as far from you as possible.

The moment you get the chance to see him again, he slips out of your fingertips. Or in this case, you let him slip away.

Watching him glance around, delicious slice of banana cake kept in a cute tin in front of him feels heart-wrenching. And you quite literally are the worst person in the world at this very moment. 

Each key your fingers press adds to the exhaustion in your bones, growing greater each inhale and exhale your take, eyes scouring the computer screen.

Being in the office is stifling. You’re trapped in a box, a box that shrinks closer and closer every second, caging you in without hopes of escaping. 

This is your prison, the jail cell you didn’t realize you’d been stuck in till it was too late.

An entire library of documents pile at the foot of your desk, your head aching incessantly. So once the hour hand strikes 10pm, you trudge out the door, more than happy to be in the safety of your car. 

Then you slip, and it all comes crashing down.

As if he read your mind, the one person you’ve been longing for takes over your screen, and your index shakes pressing the green button.

“..Felix.”

The words tumble out, tiny candies filling an already full jar. Too much that the lid can’t even fit on.

“Stay where you are, I’m driving to you right now.”

His response earns a stifled sob, your fist bunching the fabric of your clothing, feebly attempting to calm the incessant beating—seeming to render your lungs with meager air.

No other sentence is spoken even with him on the other line, not until headlights pour over the expanse of your dash—until Felix nearly rips your car door off its hinges to reach you in the driver’s seat.

One hand on your head, the other on your back, he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, your second one in three days. 

It’s all you need. All you’ve ever needed, actually. 

Another heartbeat with yours, your calm before the storm that kept the calm, to know you aren’t alone in your suffering, that you can suffer together.

Ah, you can breathe.

“All these years and you’re still an awful liar.”

You simply squeeze him tighter, the blond’s laughter shaking either of you. 

Guess a single taste can lead to addiction. 

“I hate crying in front of people,” You sniffle, cringing back after seeing his shirt’s tear-stained fabric.

“Lucky for you,” Felix tuts, gathering your face in his hands, smiling. “I’m not people, just Felix.”

You roll your eyes, swollen condition of your eyes and cheeks not helping the irritable portrayal.

“I’m sorry, Lix, I’m so sorry. I wanted to see you so bad but work called and they keep piling—“

“Shush.” 

He presses a finger against your lips.

“For one second, don’t think about work,” He exhales, face pursed in focus, fingers smoothing the crease lines of your brows. 

“I know you’ve been overworking yourself. I’m not your best friend for no reason,” Felix sheepishly smiles, hand slipping from by your forehead down to your cheek, stroking the skin there softly. 

Again and again, he watches you break. 

Then, he picks you up all over again.

“Can you.. can you understand my frustration? It feels like everyone loves their jobs, but in the end, no matter what I do, I’m stuck in this constant cycle of hell. I can’t escape Felix, I can’t escape.”

Your voice dons into that of panic, into an hysterical fit of tears and rapid breathes, only able to focus back on the man before you after he shouts your name for the fourth time.

“Nuh-uh, no crying. The world isn’t ending, so no tears, hm?” Thumbs smoothing the flush of your under-eyes, he pulls you to his chest, hand gently rubbing your back while another cards through your hair.

“..Are you my mom or something?” You croak irritably.

Felix shakes with another bout of laughter.

“No.”

He slightly pushes you back where you can see his face, brows creasing in a focused, serious manner.

“I’m Felix, your best friend, remember? And I don’t want my friend to cry, she has too pretty of a face for that.”

“But what if her world’s ending?”

“I won’t let that happen.”

And the building blocks are stacked once more, barely able to hear his voice amidst your heart, forging itself free of its cage, your ribs.

“Y/N, look at me angel.”

Of course you follow, you know you always will.

“You aren’t required to cater to everybody, you can’t cater to everybody, no matter how hard you try. You’re human, and humans need to do human things, they need to live, experience exciting experiences. That’s how you make the little time we have here worthwhile.”

He tips your chin up, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“So don’t cage yourself up, please. And,” His voice gets cut off, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. 

Debating, thinking.

“Let me help you fall in love with life again.”

As if I’m not already in love with you. 

If only you knew the same thing occurred in his head as well.

Felix drove you home, and for a second, over the span of a week, it seemed as if everything was finally back to normal.

Then you received a call from such a man, on your beloved Sunday afternoon, asking a rather whimsical sort of question you never anticipated. 

No, you exaggerated.

“Are you free tonight?” 

Oh. Oh.

Staring at the assortment of DVD’s scattered around on your comforter, you act as if you’re oh so busy instead of planning to rot watching Dead Poet’s Society for the thousandth time.

“Uhhh think so, why?”

Felix clears his throat.

“Well, my baking place wants you— no, I want you, no, wait—“

Your heart speeds up at the sudden confession, bursting into laughter as he sputters over his words like a child. 

“Will you.. meet me at the bake shop? If you can’t it’s fine I mean I’m sure you’re preoccupied-“

“No!” You shout, not intending to be so loud, shrinking in on yourself. “I mean, no, I’ll be there. Give me ten minutes.”

Well, ten minutes might’ve been a stretch considering how animalistically you lunge at your hamper, sorting through clothing despite being aware Felix has likely seen every single one of your outfits a million times before

Doesn’t help this is pretty much an unofficial date. Or, hopefully those were his intentions.

Regardless, you don’t plan on wasting a chance like this again.

Standing on the sidewalk, hands situated in the pockets of a midnight black jean jacket paired with coordinating slacks is Felix, his face breaking into a smile upon seeing you.

Catching up with the man, you walk by his side, listening to him talk about meeting up with Chris days prior, about business. 

It’s comforting, this small talk. And for a second, you swear you never left at all.

“And then I told him Vegemite was obviously the better choice but he…”

Words halting, you look to where his attention had been stolen, finding an old woman lingering outside the shop the two of you planned to enter. She wasn’t one of the ladies you’d seen before in your group.

Cautiously approaching the woman, it takes multiple clears of his throat for Felix to grasp her attention.

“Excuse me Miss?” He offers, allowing the woman to grab his hands with her wrinkled ones, eyes squinted to assess his face. “Would you like some help? I’m the owner of this shop.”

Slowly, a small smile stretches her face upward, wrinkles forming around her mouth like the petals of a flower.

“Why.. Why yes, young man. I’m in need of more brown sugar.”

Felix perks up at the request, and you follow them inside with your own smile, cherishing his warmth, his gentleness.

Leaning against the unmanned reception, you find the longer you stare at him describing each ingredient to the old woman, the greater that feeling in your stomach grows, eyes becoming watery. 

Felix, in his loving, patient glory, is the sun. 

He casts his rays over your garden, blooming once wilted flowers.

Forever ago, you believed the two of you sat on entirely opposite hemispheres. He received the day, and you, in your unchanging seasons, eternally remained shrouded in night.

Yet, you forgot the earth tilted on an axis for a reason. And, with time, the sun would rise again.

Lamps briefly illuminating the woman’s exit while Felix helps her outside, you wait till he comes back in to speak, staring at the worried way he ensures she safely heads off through the window.

For a moment, it feels like you’re back in the treehouse, gazing at him as if he painted the stars in the sky. 

You refuse to let your anxiety get the best of you, not when the one person whose presence you’ve been longing for comes back in your life. 

“Felix,” You voice from across the table. He looks back to where you are.

“If I don’t say it now, I doubt I ever will but..I like you. I have liked you, for a really long time actually. More than friends I mean, I like you… more than just a friend.”

He sort of studied you for a moment, and your heart flies up to your throat, rethinking every instance leading to now.

“Took you that long to tell me?” He murmurs, and when you meet his gaze, you note the small grin on his lips, the way honey seems to swirl in the pools of his eyes.

“I’ve been waiting, y’know. For a really long time,” He finishes, donning that sheepish smile whilst walking toward you, an action that causes you to fall stock still. 

Leaning forward slightly, his hands clutch your face, planting the lightest of kisses on your forehead, each of your cheeks, and then your nose, fondly admiring the flush of your skin in the dimly lit room.

“You’re missing something,” You whisper, peeking an eye open. 

Felix cocks a bemused brow.

And what is that?”

Without words, you hesitantly tap your lips, and Felix wastes no time, ensuring you’re as comfortable as possible prior to savoring your taste on his tongue, remnants of sugar clinging to his bottom lip, transferring onto yours each time he tips his head.

You hop upon the countertop, beginning to apologize in case you messed up his workspace before being shushed again by his lips, hands frantically searching to hold his face, expression pinched, eyes squeezed shut.

It feels as if your heart may just burst, beating at a deafening rate in your ears.

There must’ve been something in the sugar.

“Lix?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to come back over to my place?”

Instantly, his once smugly pleased face dissipates, a hot flush rising up his neck in its place.

“Y..Your place? I mean isn’t it a bit too early to—“

Without elaborating, you drag him off, silencing any of his nervous babbling along the way back to your car.

Nonetheless, it doesn’t take long for either of you to get comfortable.

“..Oh Lix.”

“I can’t- I can’t take it anymore Y/N..”

Sitting beside each other on your mattress, the both of you hold huge containers of popcorn, the newest rendition of “Alien” playing on screen. Felix is coddled in blankets, wincing as the creature gets closer to the girl’s face while you’re already gagging watching the miniature monster crawl out of the bigger one’s mouth.

“This is disgusting!!” He shrieks, hiding his face while you giggle, trying your hardest to watch the grotesque scene. 

This is your third movie of the night, and even after years apart, you can still use even slightly thrilling movies to freak him out. 

Still entertaining, too.

The longer you stare at him, the greater a fondness seeps into your face, into the lines of your smile, the irises of your eyes.

Months upon months you had been searching for your antidote, ignorant to the fact the antidote in question could be a person.

You hadn’t realized how low you’d gone until you had to be dragged back out again.

A hand reaching out, pulling you up when your legs were too weak to move. Kissing you when the words couldn’t come out of your mouth, holding your hand when you needed support.

Lee Felix, wrapped in your comforter now fast asleep, was your brighter place.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[justawritterwithideas]

Who's your daddy? | s.r

summary: After a long day's work, the BAU returns to the head office where they find a stroller with a small baby sleeping and a child very determined to surprise his father… But who's his father?

warnings: too much fluff, spencer!dad, my best attempt at Spencer dad because it's 24/7 on my mind. I REALLY ENJOYED WRITING IT, AAAAAAAAAAA. This story is not spencer x reader, i wanted to try something different so i created a character. I hope you guys like it.

words: 4,241.

a/n: I decided to surprise myself and try the family/family found challenge from one of my favorite writers in the whole universe, @imagining-in-the-margins. I used, I think, one of my favorite concepts which is "secret family/spouse/child" for this little au.

i want to remind you that English is not my first language, so if there are mistakes I hope you will forgive me :( I hope you like it, plus I really enjoyed being able to try something new and outside of what I usually focus my writing on. THANK YOU, TQM.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

Catching criminals is a good way to kill time.

The BAU team knew this perfectly well, that's why they were dedicated to it. Every day was a new experience trying to find and capture the worst of the worst of humanity. Even though sometimes they just wished those freaks would take a day off.

The last case had sent them all the way to Silicon Valley, successfully catching the unsub and making it safely back to the FBI offices.

What they didn't expect was to find their technical analyst and friend, Penelope, gazing in amazement at the inside of a stroller.

"What is that, Penny?" asked Emily, walking up to the blonde figure who was totally engrossed by what she was seeing in that baby carriage. The group approached silently, after seeing the woman's signal for them to come as quietly as possible, and saw inside it.

A small baby was sleeping comfortably inside. They estimated that he was about eight months old; they could see a few strands of thin brown hair that were tousled falling down his forehead, his little nose was puckered and his little hand clenched the tail of a fluffy lion. His outfit was as cute as possible: his body was adorned by a white long-sleeved T-shirt with an iguana on it and a leaf-green overalls, but much of his body was covered by a gray blanket.

"Isn't that the cutest thing you've ever seen?" Penn looked up, feeling her heart stir. "I went out to greet you and found this beautiful creature. He was sleeping and alone, so I decided to keep him company until someone came to claim to be the father of this beautiful peach." J.J couldn't fall for the charms of that baby, after becoming a mother her Achilles heel was children.

"Was he alone, Penelope, are you sure there was no one with him?" Luke couldn't help but wonder how it was possible that they had left a baby, alone, in the middle of a hallway in a federal building. "Positive, I've been there for about ten minutes and I haven't seen anyone approach him."

The team brought their full attention to the mysterious stroller, looking for some sign of what would be the perpetrators. Hanging there was a gray-colored bag with a small giraffe keychain; inside it was the necessities for any kind of emergency that might happen. Diapers, change of clothes, some food, powdered milk, a bottle, everything necessary for a baby.

"We should check the cameras to see who brought him here" Matt suggested, feeling his nose being invaded by the smell of baby cologne, a very mild and almost hypnotic one.

"It's a blind spot, Matt." Tara replied, noticing how the little guy rolled over and let out an adorable yawn, falling back asleep. "He's too cute." Penelope's eyes seemed to shoot hearts.

"We should move him out of the hallway, it's drafty and he might catch a cold." J.J brought her hands up to the carriage and began to push it, being followed by the rest of the people back to their cubicles.

Despite the movement, the little boy, who was now nicknamed "peach" thanks to Garcia, remained in that deep sleep.

"I wish I had that deep sleep" Emily smiled, looking at peach's features.

He looked like someone.

Who was it?

"I want to go back to those times where my only problem was sleeping and eating" Rossi commented, causing his colleagues to laugh.

"I don't understand how a baby could have gotten up there without anyone seeing him. It's a building full of federal agents, there's no way no one saw anything." Matt nodded at Luke's words. "Let's jump to conclusions, how did a sleeping baby get here? There's no way he pushed his own car to get here." J.J peeled his gaze from the car, feeling a light bulb in his head turn on.

"In the bag there were juice boxes, it is unlikely that they are for him. It is recommended that at twelve months they can only have juice, so they may be from the parent or he has a brother or sister accompanying him" Rossi smiled, nodding at the words the young woman was saying. It was quite logical coming from the mother bear.

"If that were so, where is this responsabl-"

"Excuse me," A high pitched voice interrupted Luke's sentence "I believe you have my brother."

The group turned to see where the voice was coming from. A small figure was standing behind them, he looked quite calm and was running his hands down his brown pants.

The small glasses were drooping down the bridge of his nose, his hair was disheveled just like his little brother's and his hands were arranging the sleeves of his blue hoodie.

"I-is he your brother?" Emily stood at the height of the youngest, who was nodding before he approached the baby carriage and took to watching the little one, inwardly thankful that he remained in his deep sleep.

"I just went to the bathroom and when I came back he was gone." The little boy drew an elongated smile, taking in the faces of everyone around the stroller. " You're federal agents, so I didn't panic too much when I didn't see him."

The boy settled on the floor, taking off the backpack he was carrying and pulled out of it a book, which had in golden letters the title of "The Little Prince." Apparently, it was in French.

"How do you know we're federal agents?" Luke seemed just as surprised as the others, who didn't understand how the youngest could remain calm after taking his brother away, and besides, he knew they were federal agents.

"It says so on your badge, sir" The small hand pointed in the direction of the badge hanging from his pants, causing everyone to turn their gaze to it. "Besides, my mom told me."

"And where is your mom?" Rossi was the one who took the word, smiling at the confidence the young man possessed.

"That's a good question, sir. I'd like to know where she is, too." He shrugged, trying to remember what the woman had told him before leaving him in the hallway of the BAU office. "I know she told me, but at the moment I can't remember. It was too noisy when she said it."

The rest were silent. The little boy was handling a rather formal vocabulary, one that is very strange for his age, plus he looked quite interested in reading his book than paying attention to the rest of the stares.

"Excuse me, sweetheart… But how old are you?" Penelope smiled friendly towards the young man, who took his eyes off his interesting book.

"Five and a half, but many say from the way I talk I'm older."

Luke opened his mouth, surprised at the young age he possessed and that, moreover, he was in charge of his brother.

"What about your brother, how old is he?"

"He's eight months and two weeks old, he's still not close enough to say he's nine months old, so I'd rather be exact."

Emily was increasingly sure that he looked like an exact copy of someone she knows, but she couldn't associate it.

"Even so," Continued the young boy "there's something you guys haven't asked me" the book took a step back, closing it and setting it down on his lap.

"What's that, kiddo?" Tara asked.

"My name or my brother's" The group looked at each other. He was right, they had been so preoccupied with finding out about the person in charge of them or their age that they had overlooked asking his name.

"You're right, that was rude of us, what's your name?" Matt fixed his gaze on the young figure, who was giving them a smile where one of his front teeth was missing.

"I'm Alex, well… Actually my name is Alexander, but my mom and dad call me Alex, except when they're mad." A small giggle escaped Jennifer's mouth. "And my brother's name is Oliver, but we call him Oli."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Alex." Matt's hand extended in the direction of the little boy, who shook it with a smile. "What about you guys, what are your names?"

The group smiled, introducing themselves to each other so that the young boy could remember each name without a problem. After this, the little boy began to repeat the names, making sure he could remember each one well and be able to get each name right.

"Okay, Alex. Now that we know each other, I want to ask you a question" J.J addressed the little one, who gave him his full attention.

"Shoot, Miss J.J" His answer caused everyone to laugh, letting the little guy's charisma win them over.

"What are you doing here? I don't think you decided to come here at nine o'clock at night with your brother and mother just to see the place."

"Well, we actually came to see my dad." Admitted the little boy, adjusting his glasses.

"Your dad? And where is he?" Penelope searched with her gaze, as if she were on her computer looking up the information on her servers.

"It's a surprise! Dad doesn't know we're here, it's the first time we've come to see him at work. I wanted to surprise him so I asked Mom if she could bring me here, and since I've been good, she agreed." Proudly, Alex reached into his backpack for a neatly folded piece of paper. He opened it and held it out to J.J., who was surprised at the grades on that slip of paper.

"Wow, I see only A's here" The printout passed from hand to hand, noting that every course had been passed with the highest grade.

"Yep, even sports! Mr. Adams, my teacher, said I'd been the fastest in the class. Even though I prefer literature, I got along better with letters than balls."

Emily was sure she was a clear copy of the youngest on her team, Spencer Reid.

Wait, where was Spencer?

"Where is Spencer?" Emily turned her gaze to her buddies, who were handing the paper back to Alex so he could put it in his backpack.

"He said he was going to do some stuff on the fourth floor, then he'd be on his way here." Tara replied, turning her attention back to the little boy. "By the way, what's your dad's name? Maybe we can help you look for him, we're the best profiling group in the whole FBI, so we can find him fast."

"His name is Dad!"

"And what's your mom's name?"

"Mom?"

The group went blank. It was clear that a five-year-old wouldn't know what his father or mother's name was. Despite being quite intelligent, to him his parents were called "Mom and Dad."

But it seemed they had managed to summon something, for after mentioning the progenitor of both, little Oliver interrupted their conversation with a whimper announcing that his bedtime was over, plus his beloved mother figure was missing.

"Oh no…"

Alex moved in the direction of the backpack, opening it to look for his brother's pacifier.

The longer they lingered, the louder and louder the little boy's crying got. J.J tried to cuddle him, trying to soothe him while Emily rocked the stroller back and forth and Tara hummed a lullaby.

Luke and Matt were trying to distract him, waving their hands in front of him and making funny faces. Rossi was trying to help Penelope and little Alex with the search for the pacifier, who would occasionally bring his hands to his ears to stop the sound of his brother for a couple of seconds.

But silence came in surprise, causing everyone to stop their actions. Their gazes turned to the baby, who was giving a giggly laugh and wiggling his feet, babbling something. It looked like Oliver was feeling something.

"What's going on here?" a female voice interrupted them, again directing their gaze back.

A tall woman, who was wearing a simple beige sweater and black pants plus black converses, was approaching the stroller. The group of people moved away from her, who was leaving a plastic bag with a box in it on one of the desks and holding the baby in her hands.

She made sure to settle him on her shoulder, stroking his back slowly. Alex smiled, moving closer to the young woman and hugged her side, letting his glasses lift a little from being so tight against her.

"Mommy! Where were you, I thought you'd left me alone forever! Well… Not alone, I was with Oli but you know what I mean." The woman let out a giggle, bringing her free hand to the younger one's disheveled hair and stroked it, feeling the younger one squeeze tighter and tighter.

"Alex, love, I told you I was going to the store to buy Daddy's donuts, don't you remember?" She pushed little Oliver away so she could kiss his forehead and settle him back into the stroller. Her hands, now free, went to Oli's side and took a small pacifier, bringing it up to the baby's mouth, which he immediately accepted to begin sucking on.

"Oh… That's what you told me."

Thewhole group let out a laugh, noticing the little one's rosy cheeks. The woman, now recognized as "mommy", turned to look at the group who had taken it upon themselves to care for her two children.

"Gee, sorry for ignoring you guys." The girl giggled, giving them the same look Alex had given them a few minutes ago, fixing on each one. "Thanks for watching them, I know Alex is responsible, but I'm glad to know there were older ones around."

"You don't have to, Alex was a sweetheart. We were nosy and took his little brother, it was our mistake." Emily admitted.

"That's right, Mommy! I went to the bathroom and they had taken Oli" The young woman simply laughed, kissing the younger boy's forehead before speaking again.

"It's okay, kiddo. They did the right thing, they did the reasonable thing."

"We tried to find out who his parents were, but he told us their names were mom and dad" Alex nodded, looking at his progenitor who seemed quite amused by the whole situation.

Alex took her mother's hand, motioning her to come closer to tell her something. The female complied, listening intently to what her young son was saying before she let out a giggle and nodded, returning to her position.

"Well, actually called me mommy. But before I was called mommy I had another name, pumpkin. My name is Amanda, but at home they call me mommy or baba." Alex opened his eyes, surprised that his mother had another name besides "mommy."

"It's a pleasure, Amanda. I see all your names start with a vowel." Rossi was the first to speak, reaching out to shake Amanda's hand. "Your husband's too?"

"No, he's the exception." The femme admitted, beginning to wave to the round of people standing there.

For a couple of minutes, the group began a pleasant conversation where they talked about the time she was missing. They had jumped to the wildest conclusions, but they knew that at some point they would meet the mother of those two angels.

"Oh, I bought a lot of donuts now that I remember, do you like them? They're my husband's favorite." The woman walked over to the bag, from which she pulled out the box and smiled.

The group appreciated the gesture, beginning to receive and distribute the pastry among those present.

A chocolate-covered doughnut with sprinkles on top was received by each person.

Wait… Her husband's favorite?

Emily looked at the two little ones, then her gaze went to the young woman, then to the doughnut and her eyes went back to the little ones.

Emily could feel her head smoking from the way she worked.

No, it wasn't possible.

Spencer would have told her if it was.

"Excuse me, Amanda…" The mentioned one looked up, fixing her gaze on Emily as little Alex took small bites of his donut and shared it with his mother. "What-what did you say your husband's name was?"

"Oh! I didn't say it, actually." She admitted, taking a bite of the donut she was sharing with Alex. "His name is Spe-"

The answer interrupted by the shout Alex gave, turning away from his mother to run down the hallway for the new presence.

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Spencer peered down the elevator, noticing how the small little man ran into his arms and pounced on him.

"Alex! What are you doing here, little one?" He carried the little guy, leaving a resounding kiss on his cheek and looked him in the face. His cheeks were covered with chocolate and his glasses were drooping gracefully down his nose. "Are you alone, who brought you?"

"Mom did!" The youngest was smiling happily, playing with his progenitor's hair. "Dad, did you know Mom has another name besides Mom, her name is Amanda!"

"Yes, buddy. I knew mommy's name was Amanda, but I affectionately call her Mandi."

"I thought you called her Mommy, not Mandi."

Spencer carried his little boy over to the cubicles, finding his work group/friends staring at him with stupefaction on their faces. He was sure their faces were perfect for being part of a surreal painting.

"Spence, surprise." Amanda approached the man, leaving a kiss on his lips and received her husband's kiss back.

"What are you two doing here?" Spencer looked at his family with some surprise.

"Three, daddy. Oli's here too" The little hand pointed toward the stroller, where the movement of the youngest of the Reid family could be heard.

Spencer walked over to the baby carriage, leaving the eldest of the Reid brothers on the floor and peeked out so he could see his little boy, his newest devotion.

"Hi Oli, are you awake yet? Daddy's here." Oliver watched his father with his big hazel eyes, moving his hands so he could reach one of his father's curls. "Hey, buddy. How big are you." The man took the little guy in his hands, drawing him into his body so he could carry him, smiling at the feel of his son's movement stopping as he began to pet him.

The whole group was silent, unable to believe that the youngest of their team had such a well-kept secret.

A wife and two children! How was it possible that even Emily hadn't known about this?

"Spencer…w-what is this? When did you intend to tell us? About your wife, about your children, about-about this!" Emily waved her hands around trying to take in the situation, feeling the pieces of the puzzle coming together on their own.

"I thought Hotch was going to tell you before he left." Spencer looked at the group of people, stopping his gaze on his wife who lifts her shoulders, trying to tell him "don't even look at me, I didn't say anything."

"Clearly he didn't say it" Jennifer looked at her best friend, trying to look as relaxed as possible, but it was impossible, I guess no one was trying to "act cool" at that moment.

"Well, I guess it's time to introduce you to my family." Amanda smiled, leaning against one of the desks as she watched Alex approach her. "This is Amanda, Amanda Reid, my wife" The young woman waved her hand, crossing her arms again with a smile on her mouth. She loved that he said my wife. "This is Alexander Reid and Oliver Reid, Alex and Oli of affection." Little Alex smiled, again waving to everyone with his hand and took what was left of the donut his mother offered him.

"How long have you been married?" Next to speak was Rossi, who felt Hotch had betrayed him by keeping that secret so long.

"Well, married… we've been married for five years. Dating we've been dating for seven…" Amanda turned to look at her husband.

"Seven years, five months and thirteen days." Spencer nodded, looking down at the baby who had just fallen asleep in his arms.

"So…" Matt looked over at Alexander, who looked amused eating the sprinkles on top of the donut.

"Yeah, Alex was a surprise. We knew we wanted to be parents, but we wanted to live together first, and well… The first night of living together caused Alex's arrival." Amanda laughed with her cheeks flushed, noticing how Spencer's cheeks were also filled with that crimson red. "Oli arrived after a couple of tries. We didn't want Alex to be alone and have to read all the books to himself."

"Now he reads Oli to sleep, like the good big brother he is" Spencer smiled, placing little Oliver in the most comfortable place to sleep.

After that confession, the pair settled in at the desk where the woman was sitting.

"I have so many questions I can't process, I really don't understand. So…how come we didn't see this in your apartment when you went to jail? We'd be completely blind if we hadn't noticed." Penelope had gotten to a good point, causing the friends to nod and the pair looked at each other before they could respond.

"It's because you guys went to Spence's old apartment." Amanda replied. "When we had Alex, we outgrew the apartment. We tried to look at an apartment in the same building, but they were all the same, so we pooled our paychecks and managed to rent a slightly larger apartment down the street from there. After Oliver came along we had to move to a bigger place." Spencer nodded, wiping the corner of his son's lip, which was full of chocolate. "But when Spence needs to focus, he goes to his old apartment to work. Diana was living there for a season and then she came to our house." The young woman pushed her hair back, feeling her husband's warm hand wrap around her hip.

The group was attentive to what they were saying, nodding at every word and concentrating on the story they had for them. Like little children, they formed around the young couple to follow their narrative.

"When Mexico and jail happened, it was really an ordeal. Hotch called us to get into the program with him and Jack, we had to go into hiding because we were Spencer's immediate family. Before Diana could hide she was kidnapped and, well, you know the rest of the story." Amanda's hand went to her son's hair, playing with the unruly locks of the scalp. They were exactly the same as his father's.

"But we would have known, I would have figured it out! H-how did you…?" Penelope was utterly convinced she would have found that information.

"It wasn't in the system." Spencer admitted. "I begged Hotch not to release it, it's manually, on paper. But online it's not, it was more likely to endanger my family." The young couple looked at each other and gave each other a smile. Sighing, Spencer continued. "Something like Foyet and Hotch would have happened, it was too dangerous. I wasn't willing to lose them and place them in danger."

Finally, the group of people began to understand, nodding at what he was saying and relaxing after that news.

"Spence had intended to tell them, but after Cat Adams, Scratch, Mexico, jail, Diana… I don't know when the time was right, to be honest with you." A collective chuckle filled the room echoing at that moment.

"Wow Spencer, you sure had this secret well hidden." Luke smiled, patting the younger man on the back, who was grinning broadly after breaking free of that secret that had him gnawing inside.

"Well, it's never too late to throw a welcome home party for the new family." Rossi smiled, moving closer to Amanda so he could hug her.

Mandi smiled receiving greetings from everyone, feeling like she was home.

"Good, then I'll start buying presents from now on. For both Oliver and Alex." Penelope smiled, receiving a wide smile from Alexander, who was the most excited to receive gifts. "I've missed so many birthdays and Christmases already."

"So…" Alex stole glances at everyone, who looked quite intrigued by his words. "Can I tell you aunties and uncles?"

That was the straw that broke the excitement level in the entire group, causing everyone to nod and smile broadly, feeling their chest heaving with joy.

"Did you see, Alex? Now you have lots of aunts and uncles to share, plus cousins." Spencer fell into step with his son, who was hugging him by the neck with a smile.

"That's right daddy, lots and lots!" The little boy turned to look at them all before stretching his arms out to hang around Luke's neck, who was greeting him with a smile that went so far as to make his cheeks ache.

The entire group stayed talking for a couple more minutes before deciding to head home to relax after a full day full of excitement.

Before she could get on the elevator, Emily smiled in the direction of the group of people.

"I think we know who his daddy is." Tara's whisper caused Emily to laugh and step onto the elevator, letting the doors close and signal the end of the work day.

The day had closed on a high note, not only for the capture of a criminal, but also for the discovery of a new family.

And Spencer couldn't be happier to finally reunite their families.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.

kissesssss, bai. 💕

[quibbs126]

…Okay, you may end up seeing these drawings yet again on a later date

I finished the page, which was small at 500x500 px, but I wanted to make the page bigger. I did that, and I drew one new thing, but now I don’t know what else to draw on there. So for now, I figured I might as well post the original full page right now

Yeah, sorry for the laziness

This is the other sketch I finished on there, for those curious

Anyways, so yeah, this new style practice I’m trying

The original page I tried these out on is this, which also isn’t full, but I thought trying it out with actual characters instead of just random poses and shapes would be better, so I switched over to Cookie Run characters

The method is still a work in progress when it comes to all the shapes and the red sketch layer

I suppose what I should do now is try drawing a bunch of different Cookies that have different body shapes, so that I have practice with that. As well as maybe attempt some full body ones

I suppose you can suggest some if you want, considering I don’t know who to draw other than like, Hollyberry or Avocado, since I should try drawing large but not buff characters here. But I should also probably draw more skinny, and also chubby

But on to what I actually drew

So I already talked about Peach Blossom and the top Dark Choco drawing prior, so no real need to elaborate

The Dark Choco and Dark Cacao one was me drawing them in their younger forms to see how they compare. Not for any sort of study thing, but just in a symbolic sort of way. Since they’re so similar looking

I think I had a lot more fun with Choco, especially his hair. I remember Cacao being mostly annoying for his weird cloak thing that I don’t understand

The hand pose was ass though. I knew the general idea of what I wanted, that being them with their hands over their swords, but I was struggling to figure out how to draw the hands. Not to mention I had to change the pose from the red sketch because the swords were further down than I put them. I still don’t think I did the pose exactly correct, but screw it, it’s good enough

I’m also noticing that Choco looks way lighter in skin tone compared to Cacao. Like yeah, I know he’s normally slightly lighter, but it’s far more noticeable here. I’m pretty sure it’s because I used Dark Choco’s ToA colors here (bc they work better with my black lineart), which are slightly lighter, as well as just that Dark Choco is wearing much lighter colors while Dark Cacao’s are relatively darker. So maybe it just makes them contrast more

I liked drawing them, but I also did basically do the same body type 3 in a row, so I should probably draw different characters

Anyways, let’s talk about that extra sketch

So for those who likely don’t remember, that there is an OC of mine called Prickly Pear Cookie

I made her entirely on a whim one day, and she doesn’t really have any character or story, just vibes, but I really like her design and wanted to draw it again

I probably should give her some sort of bra though. The shirtless chest looks cool but in my opinion sounds really uncomfortable without at least that

I did originally draw her with the green skin, but it looked weird so I shifted it to more of a yellow so it looks more human

Honestly I really like how she turned out

But yeah, I think that’s about it for now. Just wanted to show this

[imaginesandsmut]

You Sweet Dumb Thing

Ethan Landry is a family orientated guy.

He fucking loves his family, he would do anything for them, he would kill for them. Correction, Ethan was going to kill for them.

Him, his sister and father had it all figured out, their plan to kill Sam and Tara for the death of Richie was something they had planned for the past year. They had all the cogs in the right place and everything was moving smoothly.

That was until he met Y/N.

At first, the new girl in the group who managed to be loved by everyone didn’t change his mind at all. He still went about sharpening his knives and training secretly in the gym to make sure he was powerful enough to take someone down like Chad.

But then she started to weasel her way into a friendship with him, and in turn, his mind.

He hated it. The way she would smile at every single fucking person on the street, how she would offer to help anyone in the group with whatever they needed, how she would smile so widely when she laughed that her eyes squeezed close. He hated it and he hated her.

But that didn’t stop him from fantasising about her during class, at work, with Chad, at night, in the shower, in his bed, in his dreams. Every time he watched a romantic movie, he thought of her. Every time he read a book, he couldn’t process the words because she was covering his thoughts. Even when he had the apartment to himself and got the opportunity to touch himself in peace, she was still there, whispering his name and moaning as he stroked himself.

She consumed his mind that he started to forget about his plans with his family.

Slowly, Chad started to catch on and even began teasing Ethan about his crush on her. Poking his ribs with his elbow whenever she joined the group at their study table, raising his eyebrows whenever she directed a question at Ethan. Chad even went so far to try and wingman him at the halloween party.

~~~~~~~~~

“Look at you man! You’re a snack!” Chad yells over the music, alcohol affecting his system. “Practically an entire meal!”

He was being genuine and kind, but Ethan felt a little ridiculous in his handmade cardboard robot costume that he didn’t feel like anything but a child.

“Now look over there, see Y/N?” He’s pointing to the makeshift dance floor, the girl is question swaying her hips to the music. “How do you think she looks?”

“She’s gorgeous.”

Ethan used to hide his feelings for Y/N from Chad, scrunching his nose and shaking his head whenever Chad questioned him about why he would stare at her for so long. But now, he can’t hide it. Even Tara and Sam knew about his crush.

“Perfect!” Chad shouted, handing another shot to Ethan. “Go ask her out.”

“No, I can’t do that.”

“And why not?” Chad’s tipsy demeanour was making Ethan annoyed, the frat-jock stereotype didn’t even realise how far above them Y/N was.

She was dancing with some random girls she just met 20 minutes prior, laughing at what they were saying whilst trying to keep up with the beat of the song. Her short Princess Peach dress left little to the imagination, her hips moving seductively as she danced to the song.

“We’re friends, I can’t ruin that with her!” Ethan wishes they would stop talking about this, the music pounding on his ears that he has resorted to shouting so Chad could hear him. “And she’d say no.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

~~~~~~~~~

Ethan’s father killed Jason and Greg that night, those Ghostface killer wannabes had it coming and Ethan was annoyed they didn’t get to the boys earlier. Then Ethan’s father attacked Sam and Tara in the bodega, with a shotgun of all weapons.

Ethan, his sister and father were together in his father’s apartment, going over the next part of their plan. Quinn was frantic about who to kill next and that she wants to be the one to do it, Ethan stayed quiet.

“Ethan?” His father spoke up, softly punching his son's knee in an effort to gain some attention back to the conversation.

“Hmm?” Ethan looked up from his position hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped and eyes trained on the floor.

“What do you think?” His father questions, confused as to why his son, who was once obsessed with their plan, now was silent and mentally absent.

“Think of what?” Ethan tried to shake himself back to reality, sitting back on the sofa and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Quinn killing Y/N?”

It was like ice water was dumped over him, his heart stopped beating and his hands grew sweaty. He forced his face to stay neutral, trying his hardest to not give away any emotion.

“Why are we killing Y/N? She’s not an official member of the group.” Ethan’s voice wavered slightly, he hoped that his family didn’t notice. “And why as a solo kill?”

“We can’t have too many people in the apartment tomorrow night when you attack them.” Quinn spoke slowly, twirling her hair around her pointer finger. “Plus I think it’s best to get her out of the way before you try killing the group, you know, in case you freeze up when you see her.”

“Why would I freeze up?”

“Cause you’ve had a hard-on for her for months,” Quinn laughed, “it’s better if I do it tonight and get her out of the way for you.”

“No.” Ethan’s voice was harsh, fueled by anger and fear. His father and sister looked at him, their faces as confused as ever.

“No?” His father wanted desperately to try and understand his son in this moment.

“Quinn can’t kill her.” He knew that he would need to give a good explanation, a reason as to why he was messing up their plan. “I should kill her.”

“You don’t have the balls to do it.” Quinn scoffed, brushing off her brother’s attempt at being tough.

“I’ll fucking do it,” Ethan was looking at his father in the eye, “I need to have this.”

Somehow it worked, a mere hour later Ethan was turning the key Y/N gave him in its slot and pushed her apartment door open, creeping through the living room and towards her bedroom, and towards the sound of running water.

His Ghostface mask obscured his vision slightly but he could still take in the scene around him. Printed posters of her favourite movies covered the walls, colourful decor scattered the hallway. He entered her bedroom, knife in hand as he took in the scene.

Her bed was messy, some soft teddies thrown over the purple floral sheets. Ethan took off his mask to see the room better since this is the first time he’s ever been in it, he felt like he was walking on holy ground.

The brown haired boy pushed his curls from his eyes to look at the pictures she had on her walls - lots of her, Tara and Mindy, some of her and Chad, even some of her and his sister, Quinn.

The ones he stared at were the many pictures of himself and Y/N, a lot of them candids but some of them posed. He felt a surge of pride as he outranked Chad when it came to how many times he was featured on her wall.

The Ghostface mask and knife in his hands grew heavy, as if they were trying to actively fall out of his hands.

He can’t do this.

His thoughts here growing wild and anxious, overloaded with fear as to what he was preparing himself to do. Ethan can’t kill her, he would rather slit his own throat than do it to her. He even realised that he would rather kill someone for her.

The sound of the shower had stopped and Ethan began freaking out, it was now or never. But in that moment, he backed out. He was happy that he took this job from Quinn, but now he needed to find a way to get out and keep his family away from her.

The bathroom door began to open and Ethan knew it was too late for him to run, either she would catch him or someone else would. Instead, he stuffed the mask and knife under her bed haphazardly. The boy struggled with the black robe that covered his body, pulling it roughly over his head and also shoving it under her bed.

Then, quickly trying to find a way to explain why he was in her room, he walked over to her desk and started looking for her Econ notes, his cheeks were hot in anxiety and fear.

“Ethan?”

Her voice was soft and nervous, as if it wasn’t going to be him. Ethan’s shoulders tensed as he slowly turned around, an embarrassed smile on his face.

“Hey?”

“What are you doing?” She was dressed in a small top and even smaller underwear, the flimsy fabric of her top showed her nipples through the fabric whilst her underwear were dainty little lacy things that made Ethan feel hot. 

“Why are you in my room?”

He realised he was ogling her, just staring at her body and she used her arms to cover her chest, not moving from her spot on the other side of the room.

“I’m so sorry.” Ethan pushed himself to say, darting his eyes down as he played with the paper containing her Econ notes in his hands. “I just needed to run in and grab your notes for Econ, I didn’t think you would be here.”

She didn’t say anything, just stared at him whilst trying to cover herself with her arms. He gulped in the silence, just staring down at his hands. She was probably doubting his excuse, wondering why he didn't send a text or ask for them the next day. Ethan’s mind was swirling with his stupidity, he should've just ran.

Ethan has imagined so many times being in Y/N’s room whilst she was wearing that exact outfit, but also in those dreams, he’s much more confident and makes a fucking move.

Now, he can’t even look at her. Too scared that if he takes in her body once more, he’ll get a boner and embarrass himself even further. Even thinking about the fact that she’s standing only 5 steps from him in a see-through top and lace underwear was making him hot and flustered.

He looked at his feet and saw his Ghostface mask poking out from underneath her bed, the knife next to it gleaming in the soft warm light of her bedside table lamp. Y/N was so stupid to be so defenceless, if only she knew how he had protected her from being stabbed to death by his sister, if only she knew of all the things he does for her. If Ethan wasn’t around, Y/N would be so lost, like a little kitten begging for shelter, and Ethan was the only person who could be that for her.

Y/N should be thankful for him.

A new feeling came over Ethan like a cloud rolling over the hills, powerful and daunting as the new darkness showed in his eyes. Confidence began to pump through the blood in his veins, giving him a new aura that even Y/N noticed.

Y/N’s demeanour changed from confused to scared, she had never seen Ethan like this. Her feet started to shuffle back, but the more distance she made between them, Ethan matched her steps and kept the distance.

“Ethan?” She sounded lost, it was like his name was the only word she knew. “Are you feeling good?”

The boy started to grin, closing the distance between them whilst Y/N tried to move further away. He could see it in her eyes, the soft glow of not just fear, but of heat that was spreading all over her body, Although she was stepping away from him, her chest was rising and falling rapidly in anticipation, her eyes were heavy and lidded, and her cheeks were blooming with splotches of red.

She wanted him.

“Do you have any idea how badly I've wanted to be alone with you? To see you like this?” Her back hit the wall and her hands broke apart from her chest to feel the wall behind her. “I’ve been so stressed out lately, please help me?”

“Help you how?” Y/N’s voice was deathly quiet, Ethan had almost missed it due to the blood pounding in his ears almost making him deaf. His brown eyes were pouring into hers, causing her to melt inwardly and her knees were starting to buckle.

“Be a good girl and let me touch you, yeah?”

He could see the range of emotions cross over her face, most of them were confusion and intrigue. Ethan will admit, the nerdy virgin facade he puts on isn't completely false, that definitely was him a year or so ago. But after Richie died, something snapped in the Kirsch family and Ethan grew out of the geek he used to be and became someone completely new, someone sure of themself and hollow.

But the nerd is who Y/N knew, who she was comfortable with. This new person in front of her wasn't the Ethan she was friends with, but he could tell she was turned on nonetheless. Ethan’s body was now pressed up against her, his hands on either side of her head whilst he lowered his lips to ghost over her skin. Her breath hitches as he knows she can feel how hard he is against her, her hips involuntarily bucking.

“You need to tell me you want this.” Even though Ethan was putting on a cool demeanour, he couldn’t help the anxious pumping of his heart at the idea that she’ll say no and push him away.

He waited with baited breath until she nodded her head, it was slight and nervous but it was all he needed before his teeth sunk into her neck, pulling at the skin and hoping to leave a mark.

Y/N moaned loudly into the still silence of the room, her hands flying to pull on his hair, either to pull him away or urge him on, Ethan didn’t know. His brain was foggy from the lust, acting on his primal instincts with the need to own her. Y/N’s panting filled his ears, her hips moving softly against his own.

“Keep going.” Ethan was boarding on being domineering and demanding, to being whiny and pathetic. “Please let me feel you.”

The girl took his words and began grinding herself onto him, heavy and lusty pants. The friction was making Ethan needy and it was making Y/N beg for more. Ethan’s lips were biting the skin on her shoulder and neck, hands reaching underneath the top to tug at her boobs.

“Please,” her head was thrown back as she was desperate for air, “please, Ethan.”

She could feel his smile against her skin, “what do you want, baby?”

“Please.” Her lips were brushing against his temple, the curls tickling her. “Kiss me, touch me, do something.”

“Anything for you.”

Ethan’s mouth crashed onto hers, his tongue already slipping past her lips. It was breathy and hot, teeth clashing as the kiss was too fast for them to even understand. God, Y/N was such a pretty thing but Ethan knew she was trying hard to keep up.

“Take your time,” his right hand left the wall beside her head and started playing with the lace at the border of her underwear, the little bow sewn into the pink fabric gaining some attention from his middle finger. “Let me show you what I can do for you.”

His middle finger moved from the bow and down, touching her through the fabric of her underwear. His fingers reached her pussy through the soft and thin fabric, her wetness already soaking the fabric. It made Ethan laugh; how easily she could get wet for him and he hadn’t even done anything.

“Do you need me here?” Ethan already knew the answer, he just wanted the ego boost of her saying it aloud.

“Mhm.” Her voice was soft and her eyes were screwed shut, but he wanted more.

“Say it.” Ethan’s tone was darker, almost like a yell with how quiet they had both been previously.

“I need you to touch me, Ethan.” Y/N pulled his hair and dragged his face closer, sealing their lips together in a heated his once more before panting out, “please touch me, baby.”

Ethan felt like he could have made her cum through her underwear with how desperate she was for him, but he wasn't that cruel. The boy dipped his fingers past the waistband and dragged them through the wetness between her folds, earning a short and stifling gasp of air from Y/N. She felt so soft, like nothing he’s ever touched before. He moved his two fingers through her slick, his thumb coming down to circle her clit and being awarded with a moan from her, still pressed to his lips.

Ethan pulled away from her lips with a groan, realising how lightheaded his baby was becoming from the kiss, only clumsily moving her lips against his. A soft smile graced his features, spit covering his lips as little heart eyes replaced his pupils.

Y/N panted as she waited for him to say something, but then his index finger pushed into her. He curled it slowly, pumping it in and out before filling her with another one. Y/N’s hands moved from his hair and held onto his shoulders, pulling him closer as her legs were starting to give out. He groans, revelling in the way she reacts to him.

“You’re so pretty, baby.” Ethan whispers, more for his own ears than Y/N’s as she wasn’t even paying attention to him. Instead she was pressing open mouthed kisses to his neck, a physical plea for him to continue.

Her breathing was heavy, whining in pain as his fingers picked up the pace as he stretched her out. Her brain was foggy and numb from the feeling, Ethan can tell from the way she only moans as a reply. She’s clawing at Ethan’s neck as she kisses him, begging him for more than what he is giving her.

“You’re doing so good, pretty girl.” The words of affirmation stirred a need inside her, pushing her to buck her hips and match the movement of his fingers. “Taking me so well.”

Ethan curls his fingers and quickens his pace, fucking her harder with just his fingers. He looked at her face and began ingraining this moment in his memory of how she looks - the way her eyes were glazing over and her jaw went slack with each thrust, his lips so pillowy and wet that he could imagine them taking his dick.

Just when Y/N began tightening around Ethan’s fingers, he pulled them out and caught her with his other arm as she practically fell to the floor. Her body hot and sweaty but not satisfied. She looked up at Ethan just to witness him put his fingers in his mouth to taste her, holding eye contact sharp and steady.

“Want you to finish around me.”

It was all the explanation Ethan gave her before walking backwards so his legs hit the edge of the bed, sitting down and pulling her underwear down before placing her on top of him. She moaned at the friction of her being bare against his rough jeans, mindlessly rubbing herself over his crotch that was now growing and straining against the fabric.

“You like this, don’t you?” Ethan asks her, using his hands to guide her desperate and sloppy movements. “Bet none of the words I’m saying right now are getting through your pretty little head, huh?”

Ethan’s eyes darkened as the image of Y/N getting herself off on his lap was not only something he constantly daydreamed about, but was now a reality. His dick, now frantic to be touched itself, pushed Ethan to turn them around and lay her on the bed.

He took his time taking off his clothes, watching as she squirms on the bed in anticipation. His awkwardly tall body cages her in as he hovers above her, she’s so delicate and pliable, something that he needs to protect.

Ethan holds himself at Y/N’s entrance, rubbing his head through her folds and gathering enough of her slick that he could’ve came right then and there. He held eye contact as he pushed himself in, both groaning at the sensation and whimpering from how good they both felt.

Y/N was like a dream, so easy and manipulatable, she would let Ethan do anything to her right in this moment. His trusting, darling girl.

Ethan started moving with fervent need, her boobs rubbing against his chest with every motion, causing him to become whiny. She tightened around him so good, her small gasps of air and kisses to his neck were so loving. All he wanted to do was pound into her so fast, to hear her screaming of pleasure and ruin her for any other man.

But she deserved sweet, sticky and hot sex to keep her in a daze whilst he killed her friends in a few hours. Then he can come back and ruin her for good, fucking her whilst she cried - about her friends or because of what he was doing to her, Ethan didn’t care. He controlled himself by gripping the sheets, squeezing the flower patterned fabric until in threatened to tear.

“So good.” She moaned, one hand tugging on his hair and the other scraping down his back. “Please, Ethan.”

It was obvious Y/N wanted something, her mind just too cockdrunk and dumb that she couldn’t form words properly.

“You sweet, dumb thing.” He groaned into her neck, one hand in her hair whilst the other dipped down to circle her clit. “Nothing is going through your head but me, yeah?”

She just nodded, mumbling incoherent words and crying to some higher deity. Ethan’s hips started snapping with a newfound speed, pulling in and out of her so quickly that even he was starting to grow stupid from how good she felt, how well she was taking him. His groans turned into whimpers as he buried his head in her neck and continued his previous assault, biting her and marking her up.

Y/N’s hips were bucking to the same rhythm of his, matching his speed whilst squeezing around him in anticipation for her release.

“That’s a good girl.” Although Ethan’s words were confident, his delivery was breathy and submissive. “Taking me so good.”

Y/N started to tear up, the feeling of Ethan touching all over her body was almost too much. His mouth came to her face to kiss her tears away, pressing his lips to hers so she could taste the salty liquid as they kissed, soaking up her moans and whimpers with his mouth.

Ethan broke apart from the kiss and let his head fall back into the crook of her neck, catching a glimpse of the Ghostface mask and knife under her bed. The mask looked back at Ethan, a symbol of the rules he was breaking in this very moment. His father and sister would be livid if they found out what Ethan decided to do when he promised he was going to slit Y/N’s neck.

But the way she was squeezing around him, tugging at his hair and clawing at his back, legs wrapped around him and pinning his body close to her, the small sounds of pleasure that forced its way past her pretty plush lips. More importantly, the feeling of himself inside her, he could even see it, the bulge in her belly showing itself every time he pushed in, then disappearing when he pulled back out.

It all felt better than any kill has.

“Ethan,” Y/N huffed, “I’m gonn- I’m close.”

The lovesick girl had her eyes screwed shut so she couldn’t see Ethan push the Ghostface mask further underneath the bed so he could continue his assault on her, quickening his pace and bending down to take one of her nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and biting on it.

Tears rolled down her face harder, pouring out of her eyes and she could barely get any words out. Almost as if he found a button within her, Y/N gasped and tightened around him, walls convulsing as she came around his cock. Her face in a state of bliss with her contractions around him have Ethan following not so far from behind, his moans and whimpers of pleasure hot in her ear.

And in this moment Ethan had realised that if it came to it, he would kill everyone, including his own family, to keep her.

[lilystyles]

gingerbread at midnight.

part one of the sweetest thing series by @lilystyles

the sweetest thing masterlist & my main masterlist xxx

authors note did somebody say christmas fic szn??? if there is two things people know about me it is that i love christmas and i love harry styles. so here u go!

brief description during a chilly evening at the bakery, harry learns how to make gingerbread.

warnings! fluffy christmas baking including niall :) (4.3k words)

grumpy!roommate!journalist!H x sunshine!baker!roommate!reader

* * * * *

It was a snowy December evening and Harry finished work early for a change. Being a busy journalist who worked for one of the biggest media companies in the world, he never finished before the sun went down. Even before he’d been promoted to his high position now, and he was just some young fresh-faced Uni graduate assistant who rarely saw the light of day. Waking up early and finishing late. He was always running off much less sleep than your average person, and even when he was at home he was busily typing away on his laptop. But despite his strenuous hours and stressful workload, he loved his job a lot, and openly admitted he was a workaholic.

This was why he needed a roommate. He worried for his sweet girl while he was away during the evenings. 

At first, he couldn’t think of anything worse, he’d had roommates in Uni who literally made him want to pull his (gorgeous) hair out and swore to himself he’d never do anything like that again if he could avoid it. It wasn’t that his job didn’t pay well, in fact, he was very wealthy and he could’ve gotten a sitter for the days but it just didn’t seem practical to have a sitter every day for the rest of his life. And no, his sweet girl was not a partner to crawl into bed with during the evenings, or a child who needed his attention throughout the day. 

His sweet girl was his spotted Dalmatian named Peaches, who got lonely during the long nights he’d stay at the office. 

Y/n had been the perfect candidate for a roommate. Who he had met through a mutual friend Niall, they went to school together apparently and Niall worked with her now. He vouched that she was easy to live with. There had been a period of time when he had nowhere to go and Y/n let him live rent-free in her flat for a month until he could afford to get back on his feet. She was stupidly kind and generous, sometimes to a fault, but if you had the privilege of her friendship you were so lucky. When Niall explained to Harry what a good person she was Harry believed him. Niall had this great ability to see people’s true intentions, and when he looked at Y/n he saw a beacon of light coloured like spun gold.

Y/n worked for most of the week too, sometimes on weekends if they needed extra hands or she felt like going in, but her hours were flexible despite being a baker, which was unusual for her occupation. But she had a good group of workers who all loved their jobs even if it wasn’t exactly high-paying to work for her, which meant Y/n’s day-to-day life was pretty breezy. And during Harry’s hunt for roommates when Niall mentioned that this friend looking for an apartment with roommates happened to be a girl he was happy, because girls were usually clean and smelt good. Y/n very much smelt good and left a warm touch to the once cold large apartment. Quickly after she started living there, suddenly vases of flowers appeared everywhere, paintings were strung up on his grey walls, hand-knitted rugs found their way onto the couch, food was baking in his oven and Y/n’s contagious warmth filled every room. Harry had grown up with just his mum and sister and there was something he liked about having a feminine touch that made it feel homely. He liked how soft, caring, and gentle they were. Y/n was so sweet, whenever he had a bad day she made a tea and let him complain for however long he needed. And she and Peaches got on great, Y/n took her for long walks in the park near their flat and sometimes she even took Peaches into her work and the gorgeous pup would just sit in the front greeting customers.

The tires of Harry’s car rolled against the snow as he steadily drove through the busy middle of the city to the familiar route of Y/n’s bakery. She’d ran it for a couple of years now, having bought it fresh out of culinary school. It used to be a bookshop that was owned by a lady called Miss Green, now it was called ‘Sweets & Things’ and very successful with all the locals. Before they’d became roommates and he’d even known of her existence Harry remembers eating a particularly delicious danish pastry with blueberries in it, funny that a few years later his roommate made him fresh ones when he’d had a particularly rough day at work. 

During the Christmas season the little bakery picked up a lot more. Y/n found herself catering for lots more events starting from October and she didn’t know why but people seemed to need more sweets around this time of year. Halloween needed lots of cookies and sweets, but something about Christmas drove her sales right up. Maybe it was what got them through the bleak winter weather. And since Harry knew she’d been a bit stressed by it all lately, not that she would ever complain that wasn’t her way because she loved her job and was grateful to live out her dreams, he thought it might be nice to drop her some dinner since she’d been neglecting proper meals during the work week.

He picked up some takeaway from this little mexican place near his office, Niall had raved about it a few times now, he got an array of food from the menu and asked what they thought was best. Now he had three big bags of spicy smelling goodness heating up his backseats. He knew that Niall and Y/n would be eternally grateful and Harry wouldn’t mind eating with their company tonight. He forgot not everyone ate takeaway at their desk in the pitch black like he did.

His car pulled up out the front of Sweets & Things and he saw the golden bright lights were still on in the front area of the bakery, but no one was behind the counter manning for costumers. Snow littered the grass and concrete out the front, all the benches people sat at were caked in a thick layer of white and Harry shivered at the sight of outside. His office heaters were broken so he was actually always sweating, no matter the season. 

He parked his car lethargically and the sound of Fleetwood Mac cut off with the engine. He knew that the bakery stayed open until nine during the holiday season since Y/n had been working much later than normal and he’d asked about it, Harry checked his watch, and there was a little bit until they would shut down but it didn’t seem all that busy. And his friends deserved to eat after all.

He locked the car and walked along the path shivering and hugging the food to his body in attempt to warm himself up. He wiped his dress shoes against the welcome mat as he pushed the door with his broad shoulder, his dress shoes clicking on the tiles as he entered the bell above the door rang and he heard Y/n’s soft sweet laugh from behind the counter and footsteps. A warmth wrapped around his body and the smell of sweet baking and pastries filled his nose. 

The shelves with glass casing showed to be practically empty of sweets. This made him smile. Y/n always felt particulary chirpy when people liked her new creations of the week.

He felt his face start to warm up now and he sighed to himself.

“Hello! Welcome to Sweet & Things, what can I get y—” Y/n’s voice began in her usual script to customers stopping when she saw him, “Oh, Harry! What are you doing here?!” 

She rushed around the counter to come give him a cuddle in greeting. That was something about Y/n that took him a while to get used to, she was very physically affectionate. He opened his arms for her and held her happily. 

She looked cute as ever. Dressed in an apron that was covered in all sorts of powder and a little pink blouse that hugged her figure, paired with her favourite well-loved Levi’s, her shoes were these dark pink boots that made little clicks on the tiles. She looked beautiful, despite the fact she was running off less sleep than usual, she’d been here since the early morning and was probably very tired by now. Her hair was up in a messy bun that she’d thrown back with a pen and her face was bare of much makeup today. She was just in some lip balm that he could smell was strawberry-scented.

She pulled back from his warm arms and smiled up at him as if she hadn’t seen him weeks when in reality he’d driven her to work that morning. They carpooled and in the evening she’d either walk or catch the bus but usually Niall offered her a lift home.

“I just thought I’d bring you and Niel dinner, it’s from that Flaming Green Jose’s place he was talking about.” He said showing the bags of food. 

Y/n smiled this really big grin that Harry loved to make appear on her precious face. 

Y/n knew Harry was a bit of a grumpy old bastard sometimes, he tended to complain and not like new ideas, but he really was the sweetest thing underneath his stern face and scary resting stare. He was a sweetheart underneath it all. Even though he was so intimidating and tall Y/n always thought he was quite delicate looking. He looked pretty even under the harsh light of the front room, he was in one of his usual business outfits he wore to the office that made him look especially good. Today’s suit was all black and he had a big beige-brown coat over the top to keep him warm in the cold and this deep dark crimson scarf that Y/n had bought him when she noticed he had no scarfs, he said how much he liked her purple one day it was so soft he said and she decided then he needed one too. His long curls of brown hair were dusted in snow and messier now that it was the end of the day. She was sure it was from running his hands through it, he did that a lot when he was concentrating or thinking.

She rushed forward hugged him again with a big squeeze and kissed his cheek in thanks, he smelt so addicting and her head was the perfect height to smell his clothes that smelt like he always did. Like tobacco, vanilla, and his citrusy and woodsy shampoo. 

“Well aren’t you just a doll?” She said with a smile.

Harry couldn’t help but smile back at her looking down at her as a dimple formed in his normally stoic face. She pulled away from him hand still holding his bicep as she examined all the bags in his hands. Even though he dressed very formal always, he still had his touch on things, like his rings. Harry always wore dozens of amazing large rings, and nail polish too. Y/n had conviced him a few evenings ago to choose this nice lavender colour rather than his normal black. He said he would only if she would match him. So her nails were littered in that same colour and she was reminded of him whenever she looked at the chipping colour while she was kneading dough. And underneath those long shirts and pants were so many inked pieces of skin, that suited him more than you’d think. 

Y/n loved when, usually on Sundays which were his day off, he was sat at home in just some pyjamas that showed all the ink and she could ask him the stories behind each while they did laundry. She liked him in suits of course, there was something very attractive about it, but she liked him all cosy and casual too. He barely ever dressed that way, only at home. She felt lucky to see him that way.

She snapped herself out of her daydreams about his gorgeous hands and that cross tattoo she loved when her tummy rumbled hungrily at the smell of the delicious dinner.

“Niall! Harry brought us dinner!” She called out and Niall stepped out of the kitchen. He looked similar to Y/n, dressed casual too, because she didn’t think uniforms suited her place. The shorter man was in a pair of his own baggy jeans and this brown knitted jumper and a pair of ratty old sneakers. His bleach blonde hair was in messy spikes and he had a pair of glasses on today instead of contacts.

“Haz, is that Flaming Green Jose’s?” Niall asked instantly without even greeting him properly as he walked over to sniff and grab at the bags.

Harry nodded lifting the bags in show, the green plastic was printed in the familiar taco on fire logo that proved it was in fact Flaming Green Jose’s.

Niall practically drooled and looked up at him eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. 

“I could kiss you, mate!” He said, his Irish accent dancing off his tongue.

Harry grimanced at him and handed over the bags. “Please don’t. Just take the tacos.”

Y/n giggled by his side squeezing his arm in her usual way when he said something that made her laugh. 

Niall and Harry quickly began to set up the containers of different Mexican dishes while Y/n grabbed some cutlery, cups, and cold water for them all to enjoy their late dinner. The bakery had a few tables for people to sit and enjoy snacks at, and only for one portion of the day did they serve hot drinks, Niall was also a trained barista, which was perfect because she thought coffee suited a lot of her sweets. 

The three of them set up their food in one of the booths that was a cherry red leather colour. The snow was falling heavily outside now against the windows and it had started to quiet down out there. Not as many shoppers or people finishing work were wandering around outside as usual. The storm was keeping people, hopefully, rugged up and warm inside.

Y/n dreamily looked outside as she turned the big overhead lights off and switched on just the fairy lights she had strung up for Christmas spirit. They were a nice soft golden orange glow for them to eat. 

The three friends enjoyed their dinner quietly as the radio hummed some old jazz Christmas songs, they were all huddled together really close and Y/n leaned into Harry sleepily which he didn’t mind at all. The bakery was warm but Y/n felt chilly now that she was sweating away in the kitchen. Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulder to help warm her as they lazily chewed down their food. Even though he’d stripped himself of his massive coat and scarf he was still rather warm. 

Niall was right it was quite good food and a family-run business which was always nice to support. Y/n knew how it hard was to be a little business in the busy city of London.

The three chatted about nothing particularly worth noting, just talking about normal Harry, Y/n, and Niall things and enjoying the food. Harry was very hungry so he’d barely spoken a word just chewing lazily beside Y/n. When all the food was gone and they all felt sufficiently full Y/n kissed Harry’s cheek once more. 

“Thanks again for dinner, H.” She said softly eyes drooping, now that’d she been fed she was getting a bit sleepy.

He smiled, a big one for Harry, he was almost showing teeth. 

“I know how hard y’guys have been workin’, just wanted to help in some way.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. And it wasn’t too much of a big deal but the fact he’d thought of them when he’d gotten the night off was sweet, he was so busy and he chose to spend some free time helping friends. That hardly matched his scary persona.

This made Y/n’s heart swell and she spoke softly. “Thanks, Haz.”

“Yeah mate, you’re the best.” Chimed Niall wiping his face with a napkin. Niall had devoured his food contently. 

Their little dinner together was interrupted by the door swinging open, the bell ringing, and a couple of two walked in. 

Y/n stood up, moving from the warmth of Harry. 

“Hi! How can I help you?” She said plastering a smile on her face, walking over and tying the back of her apron back on.

The couple ordered a few Christmas cookies decorated like pieces of art and some cream horns that Y/n had made that morning. Y/n handed them their bags took their change and waved goodbye. 

“Have a good night!” She chirped to them.

They smiled and waved. “You too, Y/n!”

Y/n came back over and sat down again, looking over to Niall tucking her knees up to her chest. “Is it gingerbread time then, Ni?”

Niall nodded throwing his head back with a sigh. 

Gingerbread could be quite tedious. Especially the way Y/n decorated them. She really made them all individual pieces of art just for people to eat them. Which was beautiful, but also very time consuming.

Harry looked over, “I thought gingerbread was quite easy, Y/n makes it so quickly.”

Niall scoffed. “That’s because Y/n’s a machine. But even she can’t do this many cookies alone.”

Harry looked over at the tired pair of bakers and down at his hands. He tried to think of the last time he’d made gingerbread. Must have been with his sister Gemma when they were kids visiting their grandparents. But he thought if he could get an interview with James Hadden (a man who notoriously never answered questions to the media) then he could bake some cookies. How hard could it be? 

“Let me help then. Many hands make light work.”

Y/n blinked. “You hate Christmas,” she stated.

He looked over at her. “But I like your Christmas cookies.”

Y/n decided not to fight him on it. “Alright. Niall find him an apron I’ll start setting up.”

Y/n began getting out all the ingredients they’d be needing this way they could each make a batch to save time. She grabbed flour pouring enough into three bowls for each batch, some unsalted butter, brown sugar from the cupboard, some eggs from the fridge, baking soda, milk, and all the spices. As she looked at the array of ingredients laid out on the steel bench she noticed she was missing the most with most important ingredient; golden syrup.

She walked to the stock cupboard and saw the big bottle of golden syrup sitting on the tallest shelf. Adam, a really tall baker, had been working earlier he must’ve put it there. Y/n tried to reach on her tiptoes though it was no use, her fingernails only just grazed it.

When a hand came out from behind her gripping the big can it startled her and she turned to see Harry standing behind her.

“Oh, you scared me,” She giggled.

“Sorry, Love.”

She followed him back out to the kitchen. He placed the big can down on the bench and she took in his form. His long shoulder-length hair was pulled back in a bun now, and he’d taken off his suit jacket and tie, his black shirt was rolled up to his elbows and the buttons on his collar were undone. He had an apron on now too, one of Y/n’s collection, it was pink and frilly with flowers.

Y/n softly explained to Harry the process of making the batter and he was intently listening to her every word watching her through his lashes. Soon enough the dough was perfect and all three of them rolled out the dough the perfect width which meant Harry had to re-roll it. Once Y/n gave a thumbs up of approval they began using the cookie cutter shapes and cutting the cookies out. 

Harry had the make hearts and stars, Niall made gingerbread men and women, and Y/n made circles and snowflakes. 

Eventually, they put in their first batch, a little after 10. They kept re-rolling the dough and cutting as many as they could until the batches vanished. Harry was very good and gentle with his technique, and some were wonky but Y/n loved that he was helping and it took her years to perfect her cookies so he was doing very well for his first time. She selfishly wanted to keep his batch for them to go home and eat but she didn’t. 

By 11 all the batches were cooked or still cooking. Niall was on oven duty and Y/n was teaching Harry how to decorate. 

The ginger people were decorated all classic. White iced smiley faces and an outline around their body, little chocolate buttons for the outfits and a pinch of icing sugar to look like snow. Harry tried his best to do them and Y/n loved their imperfections it was like real people; all individual.

The others needed to be painted in colourful swirls of festive landscapes and honestly, they looked like individual paintings. Harry was amazed at her steady hand and ability to decorate such creative and individual designs for each cookie.

“Y’like tha’ bloody Andy Wharol of cookies, Y/n.” He said.

And she giggled her concentrated face cracking to a smile. She looked over at him. “It’s just practice.”

“No, it’s not.” Said Niall, from his station. “I’ve been practising for ages, your baking is just pure talent.” 

By midnight the last batch had cooled down and they were all decorating together and Y/n was humming along to the Christmas playlist she had put on. 

Niall twirled Y/n around and they sang along goofily. Niall and Y/n had been friends since culanary school which felt like years ago now. They were only teenagers then. All baby-faced and wide-eyed, now they were older and still just as immature when put together. When Y/n opened her bakery and she needed extra hands he was the first person she called. 

Niall was her best friend, and Harry had easily become her other one. Even though she was so tired and it was late, and her feet ached. The boys made it better. Niall singing into a spatula and Harry refusing to dance or sing was what kept her going the final stretch. She stopped decorating to go over to Harry, she looped her arms through his waist forcing him to step away from the bench and she tried to make him sway with her. 

His body stayed still and she moved closer to the front of him, in hopes of seeing his face. 

“C’mon! Dance, Grinch!”

“I don’t even dance when it isn’t Christmas, Y/n.”

She huffed arms crossing, “Please?” she asked, fluttering her eyes best of her ability in hopes of convincing him. 

Harry melted at the sight. She was so cute, even Harry couldn’t say no to her. He sighed like it was the most horrible task anyone could’ve asked him and she held out her hand with a smile. He grabbed it and she raised her hand for him to twirl under and he obliged spinning even though he was much taller than her. She leaned in close to him hands landing on his hips as his landed on her shoulders in an embrace while they swayed. She sang softly, and very off-key and Harry just shook his head. 

She was like a ray of sunlight, and he was like the moon. She looked up at him, “Thanks for helping,” she said softly.

“Of course….you’ve done way more for me.” He said.

She just shook her head and was about to reply but Niall cut them off. 

“I gotta’ get home to Max soon.” Max was Niall’s recent boyfriend. 

“Sorry, let’s get back too it.” Y/n said pulling away from Harry.

By almost 1 AM they were finished with every cookie. It was perfect. They would probably all sell out tomorrow. Y/n grabbed two handfuls one for Niall and one for Harry. She wrapped them like she would for costumers. She tied two pink ribbons and handed one to Niall. 

“Thank you for all your hard work, Ni, I’ll see you Monday?” He nodded smiling in his easy going way, and pecked her cheek.

“Bye, Pet, see you Monday.” They waved him off and they heard him leave when the bell chimed.

Y/n and Harry turned the lights off and grabbed there things. Y/n put on her layers of clothes. A big red coat, her lavender scarf, and her blue beanie that had a fuzzy ball on top. She grabbed her bags and keys and they locked up the shop. 

At least tomorrow both her and Harry had the day off. 

The walk to the car was brisk but short, the snow had stopped now and but it was still freezing. The pair stayed close by to one another, trying to keep warm as they walked quickly to the car. 

Harry started the car as fast as he could and cranked the heat and while they waited for it warm up they finally tried the few pieces of gingerbread she’d saved for them.

“Y/n this is so fucking good.” He said looking over at her. His hair was back down and he’d put on all his layers too. She smiled. 

“All you, H.”

He just shook his head. “You’re the best.”

She looked over blushing. “And you’re the sweetest.”

[palskippah]

Hi! @hyperfixatingonbowuigisohard had this idea of Mr. L but preggy and I loved it jsdisd

I know nearly nothing of this game, but here's some ideas anyways for it!

-Mr L does his little presentation number, turning around, balancing his weight on one foot, and almost giving Bowser a heart attack when he clearly was barely keeping his balance, fearing that his husband would stumble and fall.

-Bowser immediately recognizes him, and Peach mutters to herself that Mr L reminds her strongly of someone, but she's not sure who. Bowser looks at her in disbelief, not sure if she's messing with him or not.

>Mario doesn't recognize Luigi at all at first, and Bowser genuinely asks him if he's an idiot. That's clearly Luigi! Same hat (a bit different though) and his overalls (although darker...) and that's his mustache! (looking as dashing as ever, by the way), and he's exactly as pregnant as Luigi! (Mario signs that Luigi isn't the only pregnant person in the world, and Bowser gets exasperated).

>Bowser keeps trying to convince Mario to not fight his expectant husband (AKA, Mario's brother!), and even if it wasn't Luigi, the man was clearly very pregnant, how was he going to fight him?!

>Mr L overhears and takes it personally, jumping into battle. He loses, of course. And when he's on the ground, tired and out of breath (from what Bowser's just sure is just the baby tiring him up, because Mario was really tame on his attacks), the koopa hands him a Shroom Shake so he feels better, and Mr L angrily accepts it and then sends Bowser straight to hell. When he tries to stand up and fails miserably, he lets the koopa help him to his feet, and then sends him to hell again and leaves, to work on his Brobot. (I can't remember what else happens during that fight asdkaj)

>I can't remember how Mr L leaves after the first battle, but imagine he's waddling very slowly away and Bowser's like 'Babe?? Luigi?? Please come back :C' and Luigi is literally within arm reach (especially for Bowser), but he's also very angry and telling the koopa weirdo (AKA, King Corny, King Incompetent, Mr wrappedaroundyourhusbandsfinger, King Bootlicker) to back off or he'll kill him. And well, Luigi is very capable of doing anything, and this is a brainwashed, evil Luigi, so the koopa isn't taking any chances. And the 'Green Thunder' is even more cranky because Mario didn't even break a sweat and Mr L was all huffing and puffing when the battle ended. The whole waddle away, when he wasn't insulting Bowser, Mr L muttered to himself about the stupid huge baby that didn't let him do anything and the horrors of motherhood and pregnancy.

-Mr L doesn't care for the baby, because he just came to existence and found himself heavily pregnant. He doesn't know this baby; he doesn't feel anything for them! But still there's the muscle memory or maybe it's the feelings that Luigi has for the little thing or something, because sometimes Mr L would find that he had been stroking his own belly or resting his hand on it. He'd move his hand away as if burned, and quickly look around hoping none of Count Bleck's other minions saw him showing such weakness, feeling embarrassed.

-Normally Bowser is all over Luigi to be of assistance for anything he may need, to, y'know, make his life easier now that he's pregnant. And Luigi is always glad that he has his husband right there to take care of him, but that is not the case with Mr L. He's angry that the idiot koopa thinks that he needs to be monitored like a baby, when he can take perfectly good care of himself! But also, he claims so and all, but is clearly struggling.

>Like at some moment he presents his brobot control remote (or something? How does he even summon that robot?) and then accidentally drops it. All of them, Mario, Peach, Bowser and Mr L stare at it for a few seconds. When Bowser makes a movement of going forward to pick it for him, the green one swats him away, he can pick it up himself, thanks fucking very much. Cue Mr L doing the pitiful preggy crouch while Mario and Peach pointedly don't look (after he yells that they can stop staring!) and Bowser tries to get closer to just pick the damn thing himself so Luigi can stop straining himself (getting yelled at in return).

-On Super Dimentio form, know that brainwashed Luigi (Mr. L) and Dimentio don't give a single shit about the baby, the first obviously having the set goal of being of assistance to Dimentio or whatevs, and the late one wanting to fulfill the prophecy. But well, Luigi sure does, so he subconsciously makes sure to protect his bebi Magma. The new form is huge, but the baby is still normal sized, it's just that Luigi made sure to give them some extra padding because it looked like they'd need it to be safe.

>By the way, the idea of one side of his face being a crying Luigi and the other being Dimentio is directly from @galaxygermdraws' design of Super Dimentio which is so cool :'''v

>Super Dimentio form may have only some physical characteristics of Luigi and only Dimentio's mind controlling it, but Luigi has been pregnant for many months now, and he can't help muscle memory, so the Super Dimentio form waddles like he does, and maybe Mario, Peach and Bowser would find it funny, if they weren't so horrified by the whole ordeal and the huge hands trying to squish them like bugs.

-As soon as Luigi is out of the Super Dimentio form, he's lying on the ground and wiping the streak of tears from the only cheek that has them, while wondering aloud why is he crying and on his side on the floor, and the next second after that, he's wrapped in Bowser's arms and Mario's holding his hand and Peach is touching his face, all of them fretting over him, while Luigi doesn't know what has them with such worried expressions, or why Bowser's weeping so much.

-If before Bowser was all over him, since the whole Chaos Heart ordeal he doesn't take his eyes away from Luigi, neither does Mario, who's glued to him for long weeks until he can feel that his brother is going to be alright.

>Anyways, baby's born, they're all happy yey :D Also pls look at that paper Magma I drew, that's my best drawing up to date.

ALSO alternate thing where the Chaos Heart remained with the baby in some weird way, but they don't notice because she's literally just a baby but she has the potential to destroy the universe, but Magma never does because she's a chill girl her whole life who doesn't have reasons to unleash the doom of the universe JSJDK silly idea in the same way that Luigi -the bestest guy around- is supposed to help destroy everything (??? or something like that I read somewhere? Maybe it was a headcanon aksdladk)

Thanks if you read till here!

[earlysunshines]

misty

kindergarden teacher!sana x fem!reader. (p1. 1)

summary: you take your niece to her first day of school and- shoot, you might have a crush on your nieces' teacher.

wc: 2k

warnings: none, pure fluff

pt2 pt3 pt4

a/n: hiii this is my first post, feel free to leave feedback or just ask, comment, or anything like that, hope u enjoy!!

also, credits to @soliarus for inspiring and encouraging me to post my take on this! I really liked their take on this prompt/idea, so please check it out!!! it's so cute :'-]

-

you and your niece Hana, approach the classroom, and you spot parents already bidding their goodbyes and waving to their children from the cheery, chat-filled classroom. 

Hana reaches for your hand, holding your large hand with her small one. you look down at your niece, and she wears a white shirt, denim overalls, and a beige backpack, you had dressed her up this morning. The young girl stands outside the door with you and looks into the classroom from the door nervously.

“y/n, auntie…” She begins, “What if no one wants to be my friend?” 

There’s a look of surprise on your face after hearing what she said. She looks down at her beige, velcro sneakers. You squat down to match the little girl’s level,

“Hana… Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know… I don’t want to be the only one alone.” She says, and her frown deepens,

“Hana, sweetheart,” you start, holding both her hands in between your palms, “Trust me, at least one person will talk to you. Even if it isn’t today, someone amazing like you will make a friend, I mean, who wouldn’t want to be your friend? I made a lot of friends when I was your age,” 

You pause and put your hands on her shoulders, making eye contact, and your tone softens,

“You and I, we’re alike, . your dad and grandma think so too.” you begin, “And, be glad. Your dad isn’t as cool as me, trust me. Be glad you got your auntie’s genes, and because you have my genes, you’ll be the coolest in the room.”

“You sure?” Hana questions,

“Of course I am.” You assure her. You stand up and encourage her, “Now, come on, let’s go inside, your dad said your teacher was nice!” you say, smiling at the little girl and standing up again, “You lead me, I might get lost and I’m a bit scared myself, this isn’t my classroom after all.”

Hana’s worried expression is replaced by a growing smile after hearing your last remark,  “You’re so silly y/n, you’re old and scared? I thought you said you were the coolest!” Hana giggles, teasing you slightly.

“Hey! I am the coolest! and I'm not old! you should see your dad!”

The little girl laughs and gains a sudden boost of confidence from the lighthearted teasing, holding, no, grabbing your hand and practically pulling you into the classroom with her as if you were Alice traveling into some wonderland.

You two enter the classroom, and the first thing you notice is the smell. The vanilla scent isn't overwhelming, and you can even smell the faint notes of peaches and pears. The scent matches the slightly chaotic classroom and its well-thought-out arrangement and reminds you of the cafe you work at in a way.

There are kids in seats that are coloring, some looking or running around the room, and some with their parents taking pictures. Hana drags you to the colorful cubbies where she would put her finished work and lunchbox in. She shows you the sticker she put on the cubby with her dad from when they visited for the open house, and you smile at the sight. It’s a shark sticker, Hana and her dad love sharks.

“Hana, love, stand next to the cubby, I want to show your dad.” You tell her, pointing to the area where you want her to pose. She scoots over to the spot and smiles widely, her gums showing a bit as she smiles so brightly; it makes you smile too. you quickly snap a picture and send it to the group chat that your brother, mom, and dad are in.

You two wander around to where the backpacks are supposed to be hung, and your gaze wanders across the room to see a beautiful woman waving to a parent. The woman smiles at the other parent and crouches down to the little boy's level, then points to an empty seat before standing up and making eye contact with you. 

The woman is beautiful. Her dark brown hair flows effortlessly down to around where her ribs are. You find that it might be weird to think this, but her nose is perfect. The way it’s angled and the slope of it, and you surprise yourself at how much you like her nose, because you’ve never really thought about a nose like this. your gaze moves down to her peach-colored lips, and they look soft, lush, and really kissable-

you stop your thoughts on her lips there, because this is a woman you’ve just seen for the first time (and she’s making you all flustered and blushy like a stupid teenager in some romcom).

You look at her outfit, it’s cute and pretty, just like her. She wears a beige cardigan and white skirt that is loose on her thin figure, and the jewelry that completes her look is a small silver necklace sitting on her fair skin, just above her exposed collarbone, a small bracelet around her hand, and small gold earrings.

Hana feels the hand that holds hers slightly loosen up, and she looks up at you to see you staring across the room, ears tinted a shade of light pink. She looks over to what, or- who you’re looking at, which makes her tug at your sleeve, and it breaks you out of your trance.

“That’s my teacher, she’s really nice,” Hana says, smiling, “Last time, she gave me an extra sticker! Dad says she reminds him of you.”

“Me?”

“He says that she has the same warmth or something, I don’t know how people can be warm in the same way, that was kind of weird. He also said the way she talks to me reminds him of you.” Hana says. Your niece walks you over to the woman and she smiles at your niece,

“Y/n, this is Ms. Minatozaki.” Hana says shyly, tugging at your hand. 

“Hello, Hana. It’s nice to see you again.” The woman says, patting her head. Her voice is sweet and higher pitch, and the way she speaks is soft and welcoming, it even makes your cheeks warm up a bit. 

Her smile almost has you losing your balance, as if you were a weak tree getting hit by a gust of strong wind. The way her lips curved up to reflect her genuine joy in seeing your niece again made you weak in the knees. The woman’s gaze lands on you, and she makes eye contact. Her head is just barely angled when she looks up at you due to her being a couple of inches shorter, and you try not to fall into another trance from seeing her alluring features up close.

You try to compose yourself as you put your hand out to greet the beautiful woman, 

“Hello Ms, I’m y/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.” She replies. Sana is stunned by the woman in front of her, and it takes her a moment to really take in your presence. Your face is almost intimidating from how sharp your features are, and she’s trying not swoon over you in the moment seeing as you’re in the middle of introducing yourselves, and you’re (what she thinks,) Hana’s mother. 

her smaller hand fits yours perfectly as she shakes it. the world seems to pause for a bit as you realize this beautiful woman is shaking your hand, and it feels like you’re in a drama of some sort as everything slows down around you. She puts another hand on the outside of yours so that both hands are welcoming you into her precious workplace. 

Hana looks between the two women, a small smile tugging at her lips. She senses the spark that forms from the small interaction, and the way her aunt’s stoic and (usually) confident facade disappears at the moment.

You notice that your hands are still connected, and you pull away to run a hand through your hair, trying to play it off (you don’t, by the way, Hana reads right through you). 

You shift your look over to the little girl and squat down again to meet her level. A loose strand of hair that didn’t get braided is pushed behind your niece's ear by your slender fingers.

“Alright,” You say, placing a thumb on the girl's cheek, rubbing it lightly, “I’ll let you be off on your own, go have fun and be good okay? I’ll be here in the afternoon.”

“Yes y/n!” Hana beams, giving you a toothy grin. You laugh out softly and give her an almost identical grin back,

Your smile widens and there's a small feeling of worry that doesn’t go unnoticed. You really do hope everything goes well for your niece, after all, she’s your only niece and you just want the best for her. 

“If your teacher says you were good today, we can go to the cafe and I can make you your favorite hot chocolate, how about that? Ms. Dahyun also said she made a special croissant for you.”

“Please! Please! I’ll be good, I promise.” Hana says, practically jumping up and down. You smile at her enthusiasm and nod, 

“Alright, be good to Ms. Minatozaki lovely, I’ll see you later.” You say before you two exchange a nice, warm hug, and after you pull away, you push away her bangs and press a kiss to her forehead, lingering for a second.

You stand back up and watch the little girl run off on her own to an empty desk with coloring pages and markers, you smile at the sight.

“Hana is very enthusiastic, she’s a wonderful little girl from what I’ve seen so far. She’s so cute!” Ms. Minatozaki beams, and you turn your head to meet her gaze again, nodding.

“Yeah, she’s a curious little girl, and very bright.” You begin, then sigh, “I just hope she doesn’t cause any trouble. She’s pretty shy with new people, but she’s very energetic when she warms up and, well- you know how kids are.” You joke. 

Ms. Minatozaki lets out a giggle, and the way her nose scrunches makes you lose your cool a bit, it’s so cute that it has you laughing with her, and you don’t even bother to think about how pink your ears are right now.

“I’ll be going now Ms-”

“You can call me Sana, I mean, you’re not my student.” She says, laughing a little. 

“Definitely not.” You joke, and you want to joke on forever and make her laugh the whole day just to see how her face lights up and how adorable she looks when her nose scrunches slightly.

Sana watches you straighten out your dark brown jacket and her cheeks warm up a bit when you shoot her that cute smile of yours, but of course, you don’t notice due to how oblivious you are in the moment. The young teacher punches herself mentally for feeling a small flutter in her chest from who she thinks is her students’ mom, and she wonders how she’ll survive the year if she’ll see you more often.

“I’ll get going then, again, let me know if anything happens.” 

“Of course, I’ll make sure Hana has a great day,” Sana responds, nodding.

You and Sana exchange sweet smiles again, a similar warmth spreading through the two of you as you part. 

Before heading out the door, you wave to your niece again and the two of you smile at each other. You also take one more look at your niece's beautiful teacher, then head out to clock into your morning to afternoon shift.

Leaving the building, the sun seemed to shine a little brighter, and there was a new warmth in your chest knowing that Hana was in the hands and care of such a beautiful, sweet, and cute teacher: Ms. Minatozaki.

You were definitely going to convince your brother to let you take Hana to school more often, and pick her up regularly too.

… and little did you know, Sana would hope to see you often as well.

[lunajay33]

Both❤️‍🔥

Summary: There was just something about you that Rick and Daryl couldn’t deny, they wanted you, but will they have to fight for you, who will you chose maybe both?

~Threesome

•Masterlist•

You were sat in the watch tower with your binoculars looking out by the fences for any danger, as you were looking around you noticed Daryl and Rick in the field and god did they make me feel things, Daryl first caught your eyes with his mysterious quiet guy act, and then when he’d talk to you with that deep voice and the way he’d look at you made your knees weak like nothing you’d ever felt before but then…….

There came Rick Grimes, that sheriff outfit and the way he took charge of the ground had butterflies erupt in your belly and now you were drooling over the two men constantly especially when they’d be hard at work outside with the sun beating down on them, their tan skin shimmering with sweat god it was so hot

As you were fantasizing about them you hadn’t noticed they were looking back at you, obviously you were spying on them, which made them smirk, when you noticed what you’d been doing you quickly moved the binoculars down and climbed down the tower, once you got to the bottom you were met by those devilish men you’d think about late at night

“Hey darlin” Daryl said as he leaned on the wall next to you as Rick was on your other side trapping you

“Hi” you said timidly

“You have a nice look there, have your eye on one of us sweetie?” Rick asked playing with a strand of you hair

You could feel what was happening in your panties, these men really did things to you, you wanted them to do unspeakable things, they were a bit older than you but you were 22 you’re a woman who needs some strong men to break you out of your shell

“Maybe” you said biting your lip

“Oh really, and which one would that be peach?” Daryl asked as he ran his hand down your waist pulling your shirt a bit lower

You didn’t say anything to distracted by the hands roaming your body

“Come on baby, who do you need?” Rick whispered in your ear

“Mmmmm, I need you both” they looked at you with the look that made you knee weak and your heart pump faster

“What do ya say?” Daryl asked squeezing your hip

“Please, please I’ll be good” you whined feeling the fullest affect of these men

“Mmmm I think we should reward her don’t you think Daryl?” He asked as they looked at each other smirking

“Ya I think she does” Daryl took your hand dragging you up the watch tower as Rick followed

Daryl laid you down on the mattress Glenn and Maggie dragged up here, they looked down at you as they continued to remove their shirts and pants leaving them in boxers and god just from the outlines they were big, it was mouth watering

Rick kneeled on your left as Daryl was on your right as they gazed at you body, Daryl pulled you shirt off as Rick pulled down you tight jeans leaving you in your pink bra and panties

“Oh baby were you planning for this?” Rick asked as he ran his fingers higher up you thigh leaving goosebumps in its trail as Daryl couldn’t rip his eyes from your boobs

“Was just waiting for the day that it might happen” you said rubbing your legs together for some friction

“Here we thought ya were a good girl” Daryl said as he unclipped your bra leaving your chest bare as Rick tucked his fingers in the band of your panties ripping them off, now completely nude, this is new to you so you weren’t sure what to fully do especially with two hot men

“What’s wrong baby ain’t ya want this?” Daryl asked as he licked up your stomach to your chest

“Yes oh god yes it’s just……” you gasped out as Rick ran his thumb against your clit

“Just what baby?” Rick asked as he rubbed faster

“I’ve never……you know, I don’t wanna be bad” you admitted making them both stop

“Really a pretty lil thing like ya ain’t ever been touched?”

“All for us now aren’t you baby?”

“Yes I’m all yours, both of you, just teach me I want you guys to feel good too”

“Oh peach we’ll feel good don’t worry ‘bout that” Daryl smirked as he started to suck on you boob as he ran his thumb over the other

“Mmmm Daryl” you moaned right before you felt something wet flick against your clit making you almost scream, bucking your hips

Everything felt so good, Rick fingers digging into your hips trying to keep you down, both their tongues on you made your head all hazy, it felt so good you didn’t think it could get better

Then you felt fingers enter you curling in and out and it pushed you over, screaming out from the pleasure that coursed through you, your legs shaking from how hard it hit you

They pulled back looking at your shaking body as you huffed out of breathe

“How do you feel baby, ready for the real things?” Rick asked pushing your hair back

“Yes please I want more”

“Who first darlin?” Daryl asked as they both stripped themselves of their boxers as their dicks smacked against their stomach, and damn were they packing, Rick had his red angry tip, long and white, and Daryl’s was thick and veiny but still long

“I want Daryl first” you basically whined spreading your legs open, Daryl dropped himself between your legs, gliding his tip up and down your folds pushing hard against your clit

Rick sat up closer to you as he pumped his dick in his hand at the sight of his best friend pushing into you hearing the pop of his dick stretching you out for the first time, you were up on your elbows looking down whining at the stretch

“Mmmm it’s so good, I don’t know if….fuck if I can take it”

“Just breathe darlin, I’ll get it ta fit” Daryl said as you calmed down so he could slowly push all the way in groaning

“She tight Daryl?” Rick asked as you squeezed his thigh

“Damn right, so tight she’s suckin me in, she’s perfect” he said clawing at you legs burying his head in your shoulder breathing you in

“Ya ready?” He whispered in the husky voice

“Yes be careful please”

He started off slow, pulling back until slowly pushing all the way back in till you were fully comfortable with his length, you were a moaning mess but felt bad for Rick so you snaked your hand up his thigh gripping his dick and started to pump it, running your thumb over his slit ever so often causing his to hiss

The noises coming out of all three of you was damn near pornographic, hell this was a porno two sexy men screwing a virgin but god did you love it

“Am I doing good?” You squealed when Daryl hit a certain spot

“So good baby, fuck I’m gonna cum” Rick groaned as he started to thrust into you hand soon after cumming all over your hand, he sat back huffing as he continued to watch Daryl fuck you

“Ya close peach?” Daryl asked as he sat back up and putting your legs over his shoulders perfectly hitting that spot making you screaming feeling that pleasure build in your belly again

“Yes Daryl I’m about to cum keep going”

Rick started sucking on your boobs as Daryl begin to quickly rub your clit finally pushing you over the edge, squeezing around Daryl’s dick feeling him fill you up as he groaned trying to be quiet

You were hazy again the pleasure making you extremely tired but the after wave felt so good, you actually had a threesome

Daryl pulled out as you all watched his cum leak out of you

“Rick don’t think she can take two dicks in one day” Daryl said as he spread your legs wider seeing your red puffy clit

“Next time baby you’re all mine”

—///—///—///—///—///—///—///—

Part.2<-

Guys this was my first full spicy story lmk if I should do a part 2? Also lmk where you guys are reading from, I think most of my readers are international!!

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 017: Something’s Brewing

Mornings are for coffee, contemplation, and work visitations. And before you know it, things go from 0 to ‘Eleven’.

author's note: the layout of this chapter is heavily inspired by the writing style of one of my inspirations, @pinkrelish 💘 love you alyson!!

CW: fluff, boyfriend eddie, angst, drinking, smoking, profanities, physical altercations, arguing, aggressive eddie, GENERATIONAL CURSES, eddie misogynistic/ableist one-liner (our fave is also a man at the end of the day), therapist!eleven rise up 🤩🤩, divider from @attxnt

word count: 4.8k words

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

* = somewhat smutty chapters ** = smut chapters

You’ll NEVER. GET. AWAY. from the sound of a woman that loves you.

♡

WEEK-IS-LONG-WEDNESDAY

Eddie doesn't sleep well when you’re not with him. Like a fish out of water, your boyfriend flops and flails around in bed, rolling over his bumpy sheets that still linger with your scent. But before he can even get comfy, it’s already time to start the day.

Son of a bitch.

“Alexa,” Eddie pleads. “Please postpone my cries until tomorrow.”

“Sorry — Eddie… I don’t understand what you meant by please postpone my life until tomorrow.”

“That too I guess.”

———

It’s awfully quiet at Hellfire.

Your friends seem to be protesting your unjust departure, keeping the essence of you alive by paying the Hellfire Girls no mind.

Meanwhile the witches who made you quit are celebrating your absence, laughing and leaning against the wall, entertaining themselves with their week-old gossip that was centered around you. Because without talking about ‘Shy Girl’, they wouldn’t be as interesting. To anyone.

"Yeah and she didn't even have the decency to give her two weeks," Kassidy scoffs. "Just up and left. How immature."

They got what they wanted. You were gone. Controlled, altered, deleted. 86’d, baby. But at what cost?

“Classic Baby Stripper. Can’t handle Hellfire’s heat.”

Now it's their turn to have the spotlight again. Just like old times. Although this time around, that attention is all negative.

But it’s attention, nonetheless.

Emmy and the other Hellfire Girls are seen squirming around, struggling to to reach for a prop that was placed high up on a shelf.

"Mike, I can't reach this thing, can you come get it for me?"

"Sorry, busy," Mike scoffs, shuffling angrily past them.

A couple of raised eyebrows. Okay then…

"Dustin, do you think you can-"

"No. Do it yourself," Dustin snaps.

Every appetizer they ordered from Argyle came out dry or burnt. Any toiletries needed from Nancy were handed over with minimal eye contact and assistance. Jonathan stopped serving them alcohol three peach schnapps ago, but of course those bitches were too busy faking their intoxication to even notice.

And despite everything, they were still appalled. Surely EDDIE wouldn’t approve of this blatant favoritism.

After putting out his cigarette, Eddie makes his way inside with the paperwork needed for your severance check, along with more checks for the club (and Wayne) that he didn’t even want to think about.

"OH EM GEE, HI EDDIE BEAR!" the girls squeal at him. It's their one last attempt to be smothered with love and affection from your boyfriend.

SLAM. The door to Ed's office swings shut.

Chrissy and Nina erupt in laughter, because even despite getting rid of you, Eddie still doesn’t give those girls the time of day.

“Eat shit, you cunts,” Nina chuckles, shaking her head in satisfaction.

While it was obvious whose side The Party is on, the Hellfire Girls are STILL left distraught and confused.

"Do you guys...” Kassidy says. “…kinda get the vibe that everyone seems a bit pissed off today?"

THANKFUL-THURSDAY

"Thank you, come again!"

You had just finished making your 20th peppermint mocha of the morning. And to think you’re going to be here ‘til close…

Being a waitress and barista are two completely different ball parks, something you wish you knew before Steve got you the job at Newby’s not too long ago.

Syrups. Sauces. Coffee beans from robusta to arabica. The just-as-caffeinated juices that would taste a lot better with alcohol in them...

And the damn milks. God forbid you use soy milk instead of almond, otherwise Susan Swayne from the Hawkins Neighborhood Watch Committee will throw a hissy fit for everyone with a satellite dish to see. And you’d much rather not want to end up going viral on Reddit — again.

Sigh.

You’re whisking away at a matcha when you realize that a group of corporate Chads were looking at you for way too long. Your paranoid eyes scan the scene, heart nearly dropping to your stomach as you lean your body into Steve’s for comfort.

"People are staring at me," you report to him at a low whisper.

Harrington is right beside you, wiping the counter down with a wet cloth after spilling some half and half on it. Your new colleague glances over at them before giving you an earnest look of reassurance.

“They probably just have a staring problem,” he says. “New pretty face at a local coffee shop? Of course they’re gonna look at you.”

“I’m almost certain I gave one of them a dance.”

“You’re also making them a coffee,” he points out. “How many people can say that about their dancers? They should be grateful.”

It makes you less stressed knowing you have a male coworker by your side, and that your job predominantly takes place in broad daylight. Your stress is further alleviated when you see Max shuffle back in through the side door after her 15-minute juul break in the parking lot. She gives you a tense nod hello after exhaling a small cloud of 'Wild Raspberry Bubblegum' into the room.

“Back from your break?” you mumble rhetorically, avoiding direct eye contact with her.

“Yeah. I am.”

You and Max got into a fight earlier this morning. It was over something stupid, your first real fight since she found out you were stripping on the low. You’re stunned when she wraps her arms around your shoulders from behind, causing you to hum in endearment. Dearest Maxine…your baby sister.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry," Max apologizes. "I'm not me when I go without smoking for too long."

"I forgive you," you hug her back. "Thank you for communicating your feelings. Wanna help me with this in-house order?”

“Of course.”

Since your whole lives were spent constantly losing people on such short notice, you, Max, and Billy have made it a goal to never go to bed angry. You all follow through with it 90-percent of the time, which is huge considering your dynamic. You never want to end the day on bad terms with anyone. With how the world operates nowadays, you just never know.

“You guys make coffee for non-heroes?”

And you weren’t going to start the day mad either. To your surprise, your gaze is met with Eddie’s when you turn around. Your boyfriend beams over at you with eager eyes, hands tucked neatly into his pockets as he waits to order.

“EDDIE!” you exclaim.

Mister-Leather-and-Denim greets you with his signature dimpled smile. "Hi, sweetie."

You practically leap over the counter to give your man a tight squeeze. He chuckles into you, his cool rings lightly pressing against your back during your embrace.

“Eddie...” you coo. “You came to see me!”

“I sure did,” your man sings as he goes to put you down. “Ohh my goodness… Look at you with your little barista apron! Do a little spin for me.”

You spin. Eddie hoots in adoration.

“Now do a little pose.”

You pose.

“One more turn for me, baby…all the way, all the way, all the way…” he instructs. Suddenly, his palm issues you a rough smack across the ass. “BOOM! There we go. Now we’re talkin’!”

“Hey hey hey, let’s keep it PG,” Harrington scolds him. “Bob watches the cameras when he’s not here.”

“Then Bob should know Eddie’s hands are rated E for everybody,” Eddie tuts, slyly clicking his tongue at Steve. “Didn’t think I’d miss YOU now did you, Big Boy? C’MERE!”

Eddie scurries towards Steve to give him his as well. Smack. Almost like it’s muscle memory.

Max shakes her head in amusement as watches their tomfoolery unfold in front of her. She always used to think you were exaggerating their 'bromance', but now her doubts have been debunked.

“Need some caffeine to kickstart your heart today?” she asks your boyfriend.

“Not particularly, since your sister’s in front of me,” Eddie replies, chuckling at his own cheesy joke. But then he hands her a 20. “I’ll take a cold brew though. Change is yours to keep.”

“My hero, my hero,” Max hums. You watch as she opens the register to acquire the difference.

Your sister starts on Eddie’s drink while you two spend some time together. Out of habit, you fiddle with his hair and then lovingly stroke his face, all while Eddie scans the room around him, his curious fingers dancing over to the plastic tip jar next to the pastries behind you.

“How much for the trail mix?” he comments.

“Ha-ha,” you respond to him dryly.

“Baby you could make this much in tips in a second at Hellfire.”

“I’m not going back,” you respond with certainty.

Eddie’s face drops when he realizes how serious you sound. Tucking his hands back into the pockets, Mr. Tough guy elicits a rather child-like pout.

“But everybody misses you.”

“Not everybody.”

“Everybody who matters,” he corrects himself.

“That’s sweet,” you admit. “But we’ll all still hang out, y’know? I just...really wanna keep our work-life shit separate.”

“I understand, baby,” Eddie frowns. “I just miss your face is all.”

It was a shitty situation those girls put you and Eddie in. But now that you’ve had time to think about it, you don’t need Hellfire anymore. Stripping has rocket-launched you out of debt; and now that you’re comfortably on your feet, with everything you could possibly want and more, you see no need in having a hustle mentality anymore. And besides, everyone and Eddie knew that to you, Hellfire was only temporary.

“I miss you too,” you assure Eddie. “But I'm out of that cacoon now and spreading my wings. Thanks to you. We can celebrate off the clock."

“Now I like the sound of that," Eddie smirks as he pulls you into him again. He gives you another, rather tight, squeeze followed by a delicate forehead kiss. "So amazing to hear, sweetheart. I’m so happy for you.”

FACE-THE-TRUTH FRIDAY

“You’re upset.”

It’s an assumption that irritates the shit out of Eddie. Jane watches your boyfriend as he frantically ushers himself around, stress-cleaning everything at POTIONS while Jonathan takes his lunch. For as long as she's been here, it's been observed that the only thing Eddie seems to be running on today is a hot chip, and yet another cold brew from Newby’s that you had made for him.

“I’m not upset, Eleven.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m NOT,” Eddie insists. “Shy Girl and I are doing great, thank you very much.”

But the psych major doesn’t believe it one bit. Setting the pencil she was twiddling down onto her notebook, Jane narrows her eyes.

“Wanna know how I know you’re lying?”

“Hit me.”

“I never once mentioned Hargrove’s name.”

Caught. Red-handed. A sucker-punch to the ego. Eddie’s cheeks flush an exposed shade of pink, having been read to filth by the girl he and Steve used take turns babysitting when she was a little kid.

“And boys always lie,” ‘Eleven’ tuts. Jane starts to dismantle her waffle fries as if they were pieces of pull-apart bread. She then shoves the Eggo-shaped taters into her mouth. “‘s like it’s in their blood.”

“Girls lie too,” Eddie scoffs.

“But they lie better.”

Eddie pretends to dismiss it, waving Jim and Joyce’s daughter off so she could go with Mike who has probably forgotten to take inventory yet again. But when she doesn’t, and insists on playing therapist, Eddie can’t help but wonder what Jane and Wheeler could possibly be fighting about now.

“Don’t start your relationship off with a lie,” Eleven forewarns. “I can tell you really like Shy Girl. And if that’s the case, I assume you trust her enough to be honest with her.”

"I am honest with her."

“Bullshit.”

He peers back over at Jane.

Eddie’s assets — at this point — have now become a liability. And it was YOU who had to pay the price.

But he knew he still had to be realistic. There was no way in hell that he could spoil you, take you out, buy you nice things, and introduce you to new experiences if his business is in shambles. He needed his dancers.

"If you can’t get rid of those girls, you at least owe Shy Girl the truth,” Jane points out. She finds herself leaning across the bar. "And the truth is... you’re upset about her quitting.”

Eddie shrugs, choosing to gloss over how he really feels in hopes of getting a second opinion. “But I don’t know why I’d be upset. She’s doing what’s best for her.”

But Eleven clears him immediately.

“Because your abandonment issues tell you she gave up too easily,” She shoves another waffle fry into her mouth. “therefore she didn’t fight hard enough for your relationship.”

Man.

“Otherwise, you two would’ve found a compromise by now,” Eleven keeps going. “Meaning she would’ve stayed. Could’ve stayed.”

She pauses for the dramatics while Eddie uncomfortably clears his throat.

“Should’ve stayed," she finishes.

Bingo. It’s like Eleven found a way to invade Eddie’s mind somehow. Disgusted with himself, it also dawns on him that although the kids are much older now, they’re still sponges. That means they can still read into him and everyone else, even more than they could’ve when they were only 12. And this time around, there’s no filter when it happens. It’s a scary thought.

“I liked you better homeschooled.”

SHRUG-IT-OFF SATURDAY

It’s D&D night at Jeff’s house and you’re in charge of food prep. But you really don't see the point in it anymore, considering bank heist campaigns are way more interesting than the messy charcuterie board in front of you.

"I can't believe tonight will go down as the Craigslist Campaign," Max remarks. "That's where Eddie found these guys, right?"

"It's where Gareth found them," you correct her. "I hope they all get along, though. Campaigns are huge for Eddie."

You watch your boyfriend from the kitchen as he does his thing, kneeling on the wooden table as he prefaces the campaign with an introductory monologue. It all makes you swoon. Eddie is just so animated. It's in the dramatic changes in his voice depending on who he's imitating. His theatrical jazz hands. His extremely detailed, and lucid story-telling that slips so naturally off his tongue.

Eddie Munson knows how to put on a show. As a performer yourself, you can appreciate watching his universes come to life. This is a look into Eddie's mind. His world. His safe space. And he appears to be having a lot of fun with it.

Your lip curls involuntarily. A little too much fun, you think to yourself…shamefully, spitefully.

“You’re not mad at Eddie, are you?”

You look at your sister like she's crazy. Max knows you and your micro-expressions like the back of her hand. Wasn't really a hobby she picked up per se, but more of a survival tactic. It makes you second guess yourself. Surely you didn't make yourself that obvious, did you? But even then, you're not even that bitter about it. So why are you physically reluctant in giving an answer that your brain is so sure of?

“No,” you shake your head. “Why would I be mad?”

“He barely did anything to defend you from those girls,” Max points out. “You’re his girlfriend and what do they get? A slap on the wrist for all of the shit they've done? It’s unfair!”

You silently return to your edible arrangement, putting the grapes next to the cheeses and away from the deli meats so that Gareth doesn't get 'the ick'. Then you grab a wine glass to make a rose shape out of said deli meats. Max doesn't back down.

"It's okay if you're upset," she tries again.

"I'm not upset, Max."

"You're lying."

"Am not!" You quickly jump to defend Eddie. "I genuinely think, and know, that Eddie's a keep-the-peace kind of guy. Besides, Hellfire would've been in jeopardy if he fired those girls."

"Hellfire would've been in jeopardy if Billy pressed those charges."

You think about the fight more often than you would like. It was the only time you've truly seen Eddie out of character.

"But that's different. Billy pushed all the right buttons. I know Eddie. He's not as manic as people paint him out to be."

And as if it were a joke, the Universe uses this impeccable timing to launch you into a panic. Soon the sound of shattered glass and moving chairs fill the room, and when you whip your head over to the sound of the commotion, you're stunned to see your man lunging at one of the strangers that were sat at Jeff's dinner table.

"EDDIE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" someone yelps.

"You wanna say that shit again?" Eddie demands. "Huh, do you?"

"What the actual fuck," Max breathes out with her hand clutched to her chest. "That came out of nowhere."

"Disrespecting my fucking friend in his own fucking house?!" he gives the guy another violent rattle. "Huh?!"

You're unsure whether to intervene or not, but the guys seem to have it managed so you just stay put in the kitchen. From what you gathered, the guy said something rude to Jeff, making fun of his class and level and using his character skin as a reason for being inferior to him. But clearly, he was still no match for the Dungeon Master.

Eddie shakes his head in pity.

"Classic fucking bard," Eddie spits. "All that talk and all that charisma, but you're still FUCKING WEAK in battle."

"Hurtful..." Dustin, whose also a bard, whimpers.

"Wasn't talking about you, Henderson," Eddie huffs.

Then who was Eddie talking about? Because according to the look on everyone's faces, his rage didn't align with the severity of the issue at hand. The guy did seem condescending and patronizing when you met him, but all he did was poke fun at Jeff. Something the Hellfire boys already do with one another.

Eddie's outburst is enough to end the campaign early, and the guys who allegedly violated Jeff that badly left without a cue. As everyone cleans up after themselves, Gareth locates all the drinks that Eddie has downed tonight and confiscates them. You remember the time Eddie told you drinking makes him feel gross. Makes him act gross too, apparently.

"Eddie, what the fuck, man? Where did that rage even come from?"

"Dude was cocky as hell," Eddie shakes his head at Gareth. "They can act stupid about it, but I see all the underlying shit. They knew what they were doing."

Suddenly your ears perk up. If you had been the one to say that, you could easily appoint those very sentences to the situation with the Hellfire Girls. The burning in your chest is undeniable now. Of course that's how shit starts to feel when it gets personal.

"No one bullies my boys and gets away with it," Eddie says. "They can get out and stay out."

Max looks back over at you, just as distraught. Then she says exactly what you were thinking but were far too afraid to admit. "Where was that energy when you were at Hellfire?"

You and Eddie go to different bathrooms to collect yourselves, both for entirely different reasons. Seeing Eddie that distressed over something so small really had you wondering if he was upset about something else as well. But then you start getting upset at yourself for not putting your concerns first. And this concern was a huge one. He can do that with his boys but not with you?

“Oh my god,” it dawns on you. “I guess I am disappointed in Eddie.”

And then, from the other side of the house, in Jeff's bathroom, it dawns on Eddie too as he sobers up.

“Oh my god. I guess I am upset with Hargrove.”

SUCKER-PUNCH SUNDAY

“You’re early, babe,” you remark.

Little did you know Eddie would’ve been at your door even earlier, had he not been rehearsing what to say in his van...and doom-scrolling the internet for the past hour.

“Just didn’t wanna be late!” is what he comes up with.

You greet him with a kiss shortly before allowing him into the home. Max is working today while Robin and Vicky were out running errands. This left you both plenty of time to hash things out if needed, both in the living room and the bedroom (if it applies).

C'mon, Hargrove, you urge yourself. Just say it.

"Listen..." you both say at once.

You both pause, glancing over at one another in surprise.

"What are you about to say?" you ask him.

"What are YOU..." he counters. "about to say?"

"You go."

"No no," he deflects. "Ladies first, I insist."

You hate that he's a gentleman sometimes. Out of the many situations where you had to rip the band-aid off, somehow this was the hardest one. After swallowing hard one last time, you finally come out and say it.

"I'm..." you begin. "I've been thinking all week. And... I guess am upset with how shit ended with Hellfire."

Eddie breathes a sigh of relief. "Oh thank god, you too?"

Suddenly, the air seems breathable again. You and Eddie both sigh in relief which then extorts a chuckle out of the two of you. At last, you two seem to be on the same page about this minor discrepancy.

"I've been losing sleep over it all week."

"I've been stress-cleaning trying to think of how to come to you about it!"

"Oh my god..." Eddie laughs.

"This is crazy!" you exclaim.

"I forgive you," the two of you say simultaneously.

Your eyes widen simultaneously as well.

"Wait, what?" you echo one another again.

"What do you mean you forgive me?" you hiss. "I should be the one forgiving you, not the other way around."

"Well... you kinda left me in a crummy spot... leaving Hellfire so soon?" Eddie argues. "And you were almost everybody's favorite dancer too. Outside of Chrissy."

"You left me in a crummy spot!" you place your hands on your hips. "By refusing to fire the dancers who made my life a living hell. The bullying wouldn't stop until I quit and you just let that happen."

"Okay first of all, you chose to quit," Eddie snaps. Anger starts to simmer within you. "After I begged you time and time again not to. And you were the one who told me not to get rid of the dancers because it would've been easier to just get rid of you, the one."

"I still expected you to give them some harsh ass consequences!" you exclaim. "And what do you mean I didn't fight hard enough for you? You shouldn't have to make me fight in the first place."

"You know what I mean," Eddie huffs. "And expected? I can't read your mind, Hargrove! How was I supposed to know what to do?"

How was he supposed to know? How was he supposed to know? Not reassuring at all coming from a business owner and manager. And the gag is Eddie sure knew what to do last night, when something similar happened to his homeboys.

"You literally kicked those dudes out last night for bullying Jeff. At the drop of a hat. But you couldn't do with the girls the same way?"

"Those Craigslist dudes don't pay the BILLS, sweetheart," Eddie emphasizes. "Had they been responsible for my paycheck, I may have approached it differently."

"I don't care anymore!" you exclaim. "Paycheck this, paycheck that. It's the principle of it, Eddie! The girls bullied me and all you did was slap them on the wrist. I expected you to do more."

"There it is again, 'expected'! I'm a simple guy, babe. I can't read you like a puzzle! Say what's on your mind. Why do you have so much trouble speaking up?"

"I shouldn't have to hold your hand through something so simple though. Forget that I'm your girlfriend for just a minute. You should've fired them when you realized they were sabotaging another dancer. And whose to say this was their first time doing it? What if they did it with Isabelle too?"

"Don't talk about Isabelle!" Eddie snaps at you. "You don't know anything that happened with her."

"Oh so now you're defending your ex wife too? OVER ME? Your actual, current girlfriend?! It's just anyone but me at this point. WHY AM I THE LAST PRIORITY? IT'S MY RELATIONSHIP."

"IT'S MY RELATIONSHIP TOO!"

"You don't seem to be fighting for it!"

"You're one to talk! You're the one who left when it got hard."

"I don't leave when shit gets hard," you argue. "I leave when shit doesn't change. When shit becomes toxic."

You did it with your last relationship. You did it when you and Max left Billy. You did it with Hellfire when the torment wouldn't stop. And you might as well do it again with Eddie, if nothing changes.

"You know what apologies without change is?" you grumble. "It's manipulation."

"Oh, so I'm a manipulator now?!" Eddie questions. "I did EVERYTHING you told me to do, but now I'm still a manipulator?!"

"Birds of a feather," you huff angrily. "Living up to the Munson name, huh?"

"That's not fair, baby."

"It is."

"NO, IT'S NOT!" Eddie booms. "How would you feel if I told you that you were living up to the Hargrove name? By blowing shit out of proportion when it doesn't even need to be like that?"

"DOESN'T NEED TO BE LIKE THAT?" you shout. "DOESN'T NEED TO BE LIKE THAT? THOSE BITCHES RUINED ME, PUT SUGAR IN MY GAS TANK, AND YOU'RE ACCUSING ME OF READING TOO MUCH INTO IT?"

"Now you're just putting words in my mouth."

"I'd like to put something in your mouth, that's for sure."

"Kinky," Eddie says smartly.

"That's all your mind travels to, is sex isn't it?! No wonder you keep those sluts around."

You and Eddie continue to argue back and forth, the volume of your voices gradually getting louder. Eventually, you grow overwhelmed, and the only thing that will calm you down is a good ol' scream.

Just like a banshee, a high-pitched scream rips through the house.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

You throw a nearby plastic cup at the wall, you're so angry and overstimulated.

"The hell was that?" Eddie questions. A laugh tugs at the corner of his mouth. For a minute, he looks like Billy when he gets a reaction out of you. That really sets you off.

Now you're out for blood. Out for the very thing, every Hargrove wants: the last word. He's right. You are living up to the Hargrove name. But why does it feel so good?

Unable to control yourself, your palms land across Eddie's chest and you shove him into the wall, causing Eddie to short circuit in shock. His face drains to a pale white. Now suddenly, you're Billy. And Eddie is you, looking at you the way you would look at your brother whenever he screamed or punched a wall.

Now Eddie's angry too. As much as he wants to get you back, it's still natural for him to physically refrain himself from doing so. Eddie Munson does not hit women. Wayne raised him better than that.

So instead, he settles for a verbal jab.

“You’re crazy. What is wrong with you, Hargrove?"

It's the damned C word that no enraged woman wants to hear. But now that you've heard it, there's no turning back. You're done with him.

"Get out," you order him.

"Fine," Eddie mutters. "Fine, I'm off to Wayne's anyway!" You stomp after Eddie as he starts making his way towards your door. "He's the only fucking person who seems to understand me."

The two of you share one final look before he heads out.

You hate that it has to end this way, because the devastated demeanor in his beady, brown eyes share that same sentiment. The sorrow is unspoken, but universal. Just as the love and yearning is, even when your words display a lack thereof.

"So you're gonna leave me?" Eddie gulps. "You're gonna leave me, huh? Just like everyone else does?"

You shake your head bitterly. If there's anything about you that you love/hate, it's that you always stand on your business. "Don't worry. Plenty of other bitches in the sea for you."

The final blow to Eddie's chest. Normally Eddie would've been able to recover from that... would've been able to leave the argument untouched after hearing those words... had it not been for you, the only person he truly sees himself with. The only person he would look for in a sea of people.

"I really thought you were different, Shy Girl," Eddie shakes his head. "That's what I get for hiring someone who doesn't understand what the industry can be like."

That's what he hits you with? Just then, the sadness is replaced by resentment entirely.

"I HATE YOU, Eddie Munson," you grimace. "I never want to see your face again."

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @mediocredreams @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay @xblueriddlex @maskofmirrors @babyloutattoo89 @queenofhawkins

[semisolidmind]

Ok I have a question and if I asked this before sorry my memory sometimes bad.

So you said peach's died on the journey with her husband's. How did she die? And did they get revenge for her. Also at this point you would think peach's is there soulmate but peach's not liking it.

And dose she have a Mark of how she died as a brith Mark?

And what was Macaqa and sun frist meating with peach's like?

I really love your work

(tw, slight mention of blood and gore)

went on a bit of a tangent :)

reader was killed during a demon ambush. everybody was busy fighting the demons, and while reader was hiding, one of the demons escaped the warlords' notice. she didn't even have time to scream. it killed her, and then took and ate her body.

macaque was the first to realize her absence, of course. reader wasn't able to make much noise as she died, so he just thought she was scared, but... imagine his horror when he can't hear her heartbeat. he quickly dissapears into a shadow, leaving the fight behind. he checks where reader was hidden, and finds only a small puddle of blood. his breathing quickens as he follows the blood a ways further into the woods. he can feel his rage and anguish growing.

there, in a clearing, a rogue wolf demon seems to have just finished its meal, it's tongue licking the excess gore from its teeth. shreds of reader's clothing lay scattered at its feet, along with her satchel and book.

macaque bears his teeth in an enraged snarl and roars at the stupid beast. struck by grief, he falls to his knees, pressing his hands to his face as tears gather in his eyes.

the sound of his anguish echoing against the trees was enough to summon his brother; wukong, covered in the gore of his slain enemies, appears at his side. the king takes quick stock of the situation, and comes to the same heart-shattering conclusion as macaque.

she's gone. she's gone and this wretched creature destroyed her.

reader is dead.

the rage he feels rivals the burning of the stars.

the two bring down the full fury of their combined might upon the wolf demon. the warlords drag out their dismantlement, tearing the stupid creature apart peice by peice. once the offending beast is little more than a visceral stain on the ground..

...the brothers hold one another, attempting to ground each other through the torrent of their pain. they've lost their one, their only.

their dear reader, their beloved peach....she's dead. all because they took their eyes off her for a second, all because they were made to come on this cursed journey. were they not charged with protecting that blasted monk, they could have prevented this. wukong and macaque come to the same conclusion; they will not soon forgive the ones who brought them here.

the monkey demons gather reader's things, holding them as gently as glass...it's all they have left of her. not even a body to bury back home on their mountain.

the other pilgrims need only see these items and the baleful, enraged, tear-stricken looks on their companions' faces to know what must have happened. wukong and macaque say nothing as the monk says a prayer for her.

the two leave for a while.

they don't come back for three months.

when they do return to the journey at the behest of the heavens, they are reserved. withdrawn. they keep to themselves, only intervening when the pilgrims are in danger they can't solve themselves.

———

the monkey king and the six-eared macaque complete the journey. they refuse their new titles; the rage that simmers in them is far too great for the roles they've earned.

the monkey warlords go home. they grieve, properly this time, alongside their subjects.

the next few hundred years are especially brutal for any enemies of flower fruit mountain and it's king. without his queen, he forgets what it means to be merciful.

———

many centuries later, wukong finds a little monkey demon boy, seemingly sprung from the same stone he did. wukong adopts him, names him xiaotian, and teaches him to become a ruthlessly efficient warrior.

the child grows up hearing the occasional story about the mountains' queen, a once-mortal woman who held his father's (and uncle's) heart in her hands. his caretakers can't bring themselves to speak about her often, but they speak softly and fondly when they do. he hears stories of her adventures on the mountain; how she made friends with her subjects, worked in the kitchens and orchards, and cared for the mountain's children.

both wukong and macaque tell xiaotian that reader would have loved him dearly.

the small shrine in the palace temple (a satchel, a heavy book with nothing written in it, a few scraps of bloodied cloth displayed next to daily offerings of peaches) and furniture in his father's room (the combs, hairpins, and perfume bottles untouched but lovingly dusted) don't tell him much about who "reader" was—but the stories from the people who knew her do.

he wishes he could've met her.

———

when the boy reaches a certain age, he asks to go stay in the mortal world. his father reluctantly agrees.

xiaotian goes to the city, battles the dragon girl mei, befriends her, and allows her to teach him how the city works. she takes him to a noodle shop belonging to one of her friends, a gruff but earnest pig demon named pigsy. there, he meets mei's other friends; a gentle blue giant named sandy (and his cat, mo), a studious yet freeloading human named tang—and a friendly human woman who works at the shop...

...who happens to be nicknamed reader.

[in-class-daydreams]

Oh Yeah, Baby! (Sebastian Sallow x Reader)

Pairing: Auror!Sebastian Sallow x Pregnant!Fem!Reader Synopsis: You visit your husband at work, where you meet some of the new junior Aurors he's helping train. You're beyond pregnant by now, but some things never change. Alternatively: Just Because You’re Pregnant Doesn't Mean You Can't Throw Hands TW: On the spice scale, mayonnaise with a dash of paprika.

Hogwarts would always be the most beautiful piece of architecture you’ve ever witnessed, considering the hidden rooms you’ve become privy to and how the school brought you and your beloved husband together. That said, the Ministry of Magic was a close second with its tall, domelike structure with talented witches and wizards scurrying about making sure wizard society was on the up and up.

You tug at the waistband of your skirt. The bulk of your belly is at an angle where your skirt always rides up to accommodate and you are tired of it. You're due to pop any day now and no matter what anyone says, pregnancy is not a wonderland and you want this baby out now. You put a lot of thought into your coordinated work outfits with Sebastian, and Baby Sallow makes it impossible for you to wear half of them. Sure, you didn’t have to wear that particular skirt, but it’s easy to hitch up, and no matter what Sebastian says, it can’t hurt to be prepared.

On your way through the gates, you hear a voice call out to you. You turn to find a familiar face bouncing up to you. Venusia Crickerly is a tall, lithe woman with dark brown hair and a smattering of freckles across her nose. She has a thick Irish accent and is both a talented Auror and your husband’s boss, your own job making it easy for you and her to become fast friends. Though, you think, Venusia was the type of person who could make a friend out of a boggart, if she were so inclined.

“Look at you, you’re positively glowing!” she exclaims, pulling you into a big hug, conscious of your protruding stomach. “How are you?”

“I feel like a whale, but otherwise I’m quite well.”

She laughs. “Understood.”

The two of you proceed through the gate, chatting about work and the baby and Ve nusia’s new giant plant, Smashley.

“So, you’re bringing your doting husband lunch?” She points at the cloth wrapped parcel in your hands.

“Yes, but,” you wave your hand and a glass bottle of peach juice appears and floats over to her. “I had a feeling I’d see you today.”

Venusia squeals with delight and snatches the bottle out of the air to down half of it in one gulp. Peach juice was a bit hard to track down these days, but you’ve always been good at finding things, and your friend’s enthusiasm made it worth it.

“You’re a gem! I don’t know what Sallow did to make you fall for him, but it must’ve been magnificent!” she says.

Both of you flash your badges at the security checkpoint. The guard glances at them and lets you pass through the glamour-deactivating mist, which clears you without a hitch.

You smile at the memory. “The short of it is, we were at Hogwarts and I needed to get into the Restricted Section of the library. Sebastian helped me because he tended to do that kind of thing often.”

“Sounds like him.”

“Sebastian got caught first and instead of giving me up to secure himself a lesser punishment, he took the fall for me.” Even after all this time, you still feel giddy and shy thinking about it. How it felt to be protected by someone for a change. “Then all of a sudden I was head over heels.”

Venusia claps a hand over her heart. “How sweet! He’s been all in on you since the beginning, hasn’t he?”

You rest a hand on your bump. “He really has.”

Upon entry to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, you don’t see your husband anywhere in the bullpen. Venusia gestures for you to follow her down the leftmost hallway, which you remember from a tour with Sebastian leading towards the training arena.

As you pass the individual rooms with enchanted glass, you see various witches and wizards practicing spells on dummies or dueling with each other.

“State-of-the-art facilities, are they not?” Venusia says with pride.

“They really are,” you reply.

“You could have access to them, too, if you came to work for me.” She’s only half-teasing.

Admittedly, the thought had crossed your mind more than once. The Department of Mysteries gave you a substantial maternity leave considering your line of work was already hard on your own body. Exposing your unborn child to it could prove detrimental. That said, when you originally applied for the job, you were still the ‘live fast, die young’ type. You fought Ranrok and Victor Rookwood for three reasons: for Fig’s sake, for the greater good, and because you couldn’t just let them kill you because it’s the principle of the thing. If you were to fall, you’d want to fall in battle, but not to either of those two, because they were disgusting little mole men that needed to be put down. Suffice to say, starting a family didn’t really cross your mind.

Now, though, perhaps it was time to find an easier line of work so you could, you know, actually get to raise your child. The concept of Sebastian being a househusband was more than tempting. You’d come home from a long day, covered in soot and blood. Your husband would be home making dinner, a babe on his hip while a toddler clung to his legs.

Yes, the prodigal Auror, son of two professors, Master of the Dark Arts, doing housework for his beloved wife. You bite your lip at the delicious thought.

“-ello? Anyone home!” Venusia’s voice snaps you out of your daydream. When you come to, she’s eyeing you warily. “What’s gotten into you? Is it the babe?”

You shake your head. “It’s alright, I’m fine.”

She doesn’t seem to believe you, but doesn’t pry. There’s not much time, anyhow, since you come upon a larger gym where you know Sebastian and the other Aurors that go out in the field more often tend to train.

Venusia says her goodbyes and drops you off at the door. Your timing is impeccable, and you just manage to catch the unmistakable figure of your husband launching his opponent clear across the padded floor. You smile to yourself, thinking that if you weren’t viciously pregnant, you’d challenge Sebastian right now and thrash him soundly in front of his coworkers. One would think that would be a bit embarrassing as a husband, but the ever-surprising Sebastian quite enjoys getting schooled by you. After all, he originally fell for you while on his ass in Hecat’s classroom, your wand still hot and glowing.

Sebastian helps his coworker, whom you recognize, to his feet, another one sitting on the bench catches his attention and nods their head towards you. Your husband’s head snaps around like an owl and the goofiest grin spreads across his face. He drops his coworker on his ass and bounds up to you.

As he wraps you in a gentle hug, he doesn’t even bother to wipe the sweat off his brow and his forearms are glistening and peeking out of his rolled up sleeves. You inhale deeply, basking in your husband’s scent and thinking about how you’d love to make him sweat in a different capacity.

Sebastian pulls back. “Brought me lunch, did you? Can’t seem to keep away from me, can you?”

You hum contentedly and rest your hands on your baby bump (definitely more than a bump).

“If I could keep away from you, Sallow, I wouldn’t be here growing your child,” you reply.

Your husband smiles boyishly at you, his hands on your hips.

“Best learn to call me by my name. There’s about to be three of us living under one roof soon enough,” he counters.

From across the room, his sparring partner calls out to him. You recognize most of the group from a number of work functions you’ve accompanied Sebastian to, but not him.

“Oi, Bastian!” called his coworker with a thick Scottish accent. He and a few of the others - the ones you don’t recognize - jog over. “This your wife?”

“My favorite one, anyway,” Sebastian says and grins cheekily. You swat him in the shoulder. “Love, these are some of the rookies. They’re getting some hands-on learning from us today.”

You greet Sebastian’s juniors and shake all of their hands. Part of you feels old now that you’ve met new Aurors when yours and Sebastian’s N.E.W.T.s feel like yesterday, but you ignore it and decide to feel old once your child goes off to Hogwarts.

“You’re the Unspeakable, then?” A young woman in the back asks. She looks like she should still be in secondary school, but you have been noticing that the young people have begun to look younger.

“The one with Ancient Magic?” someone gasps in awe.

“Ancient Magic! I heard she can damn well chuck lightning at someone!” exclaims another.

You laugh and shake your head. “Something like that.”

“You should spar with Reilly!”

“Yeah!”

The junior Aurors clamor, eager to see your skills in action. You open your mouth to gently decline, but are interrupted by the entrance of the one junior who didn’t come running up to you.

The young man is tall, about Sebastian’s height with dark blond hair and blue eyes. He has a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. In fact, something about him reminds you of your husband when you first met him.

Oh. Now you remembered. Your husband had mentioned him more than a few times in passing. He stated that the boy was ‘quite good for a cheeky bastard,’ which meant that you were right on the money and the lad reminds Sebastian of himself.

“You called for me?” Reilly asks, hand in his pockets.

His peers clamor and urge him to spar with you. How it’s a great opportunity and not every new Auror gets to practice with an Unspeakable, much less one of your caliber.

“Now, really, I can’t,” Reilly insists. “Not against a witch with a record such as hers.”

Flatterer.

Reilly places his hands behind his back. “Not pregnant, anyway. I’ll wait to earn my victory fair and square when she’s at full power.”

Never fucking mind.

Sebastian lets out a tired sigh and rests a hand on your arm. “My love, you don’t have to–”

“Here are the terms, then, boy,” you say, smiling, hands clasped in front of you. “Obviously, you can’t attack me, but if you can evade me for thirty seconds, you win. Actually, that’s unreasonable. I’ll say twenty.”

Reilly scowls. “Thirty.”

You shrug and gesture for him to lead the way.

“Please don’t injure him too badly,” Sebastian implores you. “This could be a learning experience for him, but not if you slam him into the ground.”

You wave him off. “Experience is the best teacher!” you insist.

“Experiencing broken ribs and a shattered ego is not,” Sebastian sighs, but pulls out his watch to time you. "Remember what the doctor said!"

"That I'd be just fine performing magic?" you say dryly.

"That your powers make your body unpredictable. Just be careful." Sebastian goes to take his place.

You and Reilly draw your wands and stand on opposite sides of the padded floor. His peers watch eagerly from the sidelines and you even see some money change hands between them.

“Ready?” Sebastian asks from a platform overlooking the arena.

You remind yourself to honor Sebastian's wishes and not overdo it. The doctor said you were free to perform magic and the baby would be just fine, but you ought to keep in moderation.

You and Reilly nod and Sebastian starts the duel.

Feeling generous, you cast a few basic spells at the young Auror to test him out. He deflects them easily. A few times, he simply dodges instead of casting protego. When he dodges one of your other attacks, he takes a moment to wink at the group of his peers.

Just like Sebastian indeed. Extraordinarily gifted and all too aware of it. Your guess is that, like Sebastian, he learns best when he faces someone far better than himself.

You feel the familiar crackling of electricity coursing through your veins. You feint and telegraph the movement to ensure your opponent puts up a defensive shield. Thunder roars and you bring down a particularly gentle beam of lightning crashing into his shield, which holds, but the force of impact sends him slamming into the floor, where he lays winded.

Above you, Sebastian calls the match, then gazes down at you fondly. He bites his lip and you just know his heart is racing from your display of power. It never fails. You feel warmth pool between your legs.

Reilly has struggled to his feet and declined his peers’ attempts to help him walk. You frown at the slight bruise forming on his cheek but he gives you a weak smile. He holds his hand out for you to shake, which you do. Then you frown at the growing wet feeling between your legs. You’d only ever felt that way about your husband.

As the wetness grows, you look down and see the front of your skirt is wet and it’s seeping into your socks and shoes. Then it clicks. Who knew all it took was a bit of lightning?

“Ah. The baby’s coming,” you say.

Reilly looks horrified. "What? Are you sure?" he shouts.

You nod. "Quite sure. Seb!" You call up to your husband. "We need to go to the hospital!"

Sebastian quickly makes his way to you. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"Oh, no." You wave a hand. "The baby's coming, so we should head over before I get more fluids on the floor."

Sebastian pales. "The baby's coming??! Lead with that next time!"

You wrinkle your nose. "Next time? I'm not sure if I'm letting you do this to me again, this was not a fun experience."

"Just--!" Sebastian groans in frustration. "Let's go!" Sebastian ushers you to the nearest exit before you can say another word.

[sunboki]

— BRIGHTER PLACES. (TEASER) a Lee Felix fiction

Chef! Lee Felix x gn. reader

TROPE. cooking class au, childhood friends to lovers, reader is burnt out and slightly depressed, coincidences, fluff, angst

WARNINGS. mentions of depression/depressive episodes, mentions of unrequited love, burn out

AUG'S NOTES. yes this fic is out of the blue (when aren’t my fics out of the blue??) but UGH does this piece really tax my emotions and i love it a billion for it — i need felix as my therapist for a day.. tell me what you think of the teaser!

SYNOPSIS. Thrown asunder beneath crushing assignments, work, and the fleeting hope your “young and free” twenties experience may someday happen, you had yet to realize said experience was right around the corner. Whisked into a mixture of unearthed feelings and past occurrences, presented with a cherry on top by renowned Chef Lee Felix.

or alternatively :

Eventually, the sun will shine again.

Out of any gift you’ve received, you thought the treehouse in your backyard was the most memorable. It seemed like, in this vast universe, everything was right.

Then it wasn’t, then it was. Again and again. A repetitive cycle.

However, your overcast days did have an expiration date, and sunshine would eventually show itself again.

You just weren’t aware yet.

.

.

.

At seven years old, you would spend hours daydreaming, inviting friends, taking naps, and reading in your treehouse. Oftentimes, during the long days of summer, you’d eat lunch up there; lost in this secluded world only you knew about.

When you’re younger, every little thing appears peach-tinted.

The warm fire of a candle on a nightstand, setting dull objects ablaze with its brightness. Shadow puppets, dance parties. So ordinary yet exceptional all the same. Easy to configure from a developing mind as something excellent, fantastical.

Your twenties don’t envelop a hazy glow. Mind now hardened, treehouse still lingering (more like rotting) in the backyard of your parents house, things are more serious, less inviting.

Who knew adulthood would be this lonesome.

Walking from a bar, you fail to appreciate the hum of music from a buzzed radio, the wafting smell of Italian food hidden somewhere in the midst of neon signs and outdoor eateries.

Instead, priorities had lodged themselves indefinitely far into your soul, drowning out the voice telling you you’re you, not the expectations you’re held to.

Further and further did you drift into that intoxicating headspace, until someone—or, in your case, something—had to pull you out.

That something being a cooking—well, baking class. This weekend, an hour and a half. Menu: The Ideal Donuts.

“Think of it as a release,” Sana had told you, this wide, excited smile etching the skin of her face.

Immediately, you wanted to hand it back to her, tell the eccentric best friend of yours to spend such an occasion on herself instead.

Yet, you knew better than to try negotiating with Sana, the girl who has been present through your ugliest moments, who you’ve cried to more times than able to count.

Your intention wasn’t an attempt to make your life as miserable as possible. In fact, each day you strived for a resource, an indication things would grow better, as better as it seemed to be for everyone else.

Though you can only stretch a rubber band so far, and once it reaches its farthest extent, it snaps.

And the recoil stings.

“Okay, thank you.” You respond after a beat of silence, lips pulled into a tight line, investigating the information written on the card.

She pats your shoulder, a sweet smile worn upon pink lipstick.

Lee’s Baking Class.

Lee. The name sounds familiar.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[goosita]

hii! i'm obsessed with your writing and how you write billy 🫶🏻 i wondered if you could do a part 2 of the singer!reader x billy one. maybe they meet again and he asks her out or the next time they see each other, reader is singing a song about him 🎀 i'm sure whatever you decide to write will be stunning

she so totally would sing a song about him bro

it becomes a thing after that second time he comes to see you sing.

no matter how tired, beat up, beat down, sunburned or moody billy is, he’s at that table every single friday night. after the 4th or 5th week in a row, he finally plucks up the courage to ask you out. you even use the word finally, which makes him blush but he laughs all the same.

you become inseparable in your moments that neither of you are busy. as soon as billy is finished with his work for the day, he’s high-tailing it to your little house out in the hills. some days he strolls around town with you, some evenings you two lay out in the grass behind your home, gazing at the stars and grazing hands. much to your surprise and delight, it’s billy who kisses you first.

you two are sitting on a blanket, his favorite place in the world woth you at his side and the sun shining. birds tweet happily in the trees, you scribbling in your leather-bound notebook while he braids together pieces of the tall grass and watches you. he loves to listen to you hum different melodies, testing them against the words you put on the pages. he finds a little flower, probably a weed but its still pretty all the same, and weaves it into the little knot of grass he’s been tying together.

“hey, darlin’,” he murmurs, smiling. you glance up with a chirpy little hm?, grinning and blushing when he tucks the little woven plants into your hair carefully. it looks like a little rosette, with the flower at the center.

“how’s it look?” you ask, matching his grin.

“pretty as a picture,” he breathes, letting his hand cup your cheek gently. when you lean into his palm, his heart does this funny little thing in his chest that it’s only ever done for you.

you rest your own hand over his on your cheek, and the next thing you know, he’s dipping his head to brush his lips against yours. they’re warm and soft on your mouth, sweet from the peach he’d eaten earlier. when you sigh into him and press closer, he thinks he might just be the happiest man that’s ever lived.

and so it goes, billy gives you all his attention and you give him all your affection and vice versa, in this perfect little back and forth. what he doesn’t expect, though, is for you to give him your songs.

he’s parked at his usual spot, humming along to all the songs he knows by heart now. he sips his whiskey and watches you, a permanent little quirk to his lips that betrays exactly how much he adores you to anyone who spares him a passing glance.

“alright y’all, i got one more up my sleeve before i take my bows for the night,” you tell the crowd, grinning. “this one’s new, so i hope you like it! but really, there’s only one person here who’s opinion on it matters to me.” You laugh and wink at him, and he smiles but lifts his brow curiously at you.

and then you’re picking up your guitar, voice soft as a cloud as you sing about blue, blue, blue, and cowboys with rough hands but gentle hearts. funny little hats and maroon sweaters that are warmer than any blanket you’ve ever felt. billy swallows hard and sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, though still he smiles. you don’t take your eyes off him the entire song, and as soon as its done, you slip your guitar off your body.

you don’t even bow or thank the audience this time, you’re walking straight to billy. he stands up and you smile, standing on your tiptoes and yanking him by the collar down to your lips to kiss him until he feels dizzy with it. he wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush against his body, bending you backwards with how fiercely he returns your kiss.

“i love you,” he pants softly against your mouth, not caring about who sees. you break away with a giggle, the sweetest thing billy has ever heard.

“i love you too, cowboy.”

he grins and takes his hat off, placing it on your head. then, he cups your cheeks and kisses your forehead, both of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips one more time. billy bonney is the happiest man who’s ever lived, no doubt about it.