#Tis very big and cozy

[that-ghosts-art]

I needed to draw human!Bill in honour of the scrunkly invading my mind <3

Featuring the most glorious hair cut, and a hoodie I actually own irl!

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

These are a couple doodles from yesterday, Gideon as a younger teen, before the growth spurt, maybe 14? He's discovered he's a vampire, and has a lot of recovery to do, since he's severely blood deficient.

I'm gonna let myself explode about my vampire gideon ideas, under construction, under the cut: (I don't write fanfiction, I just throw up my ideas on a tumblr post, apparently :'D)

This is what I love about tumblr - it's a place where I can throw the doodles (something that isn't finished *artwork*), and let myself be really delusional about fictional characters. So I'm gonna take a moment to ramble about the ideas I have for Gideon as a vampire.

If you're a fellow Gideon Head, HI THERE... anyway, here's my thought process on a potential vampire-gideon backstory???

I've always liked the idea of gideon being a vampire, and also becoming a much better person when he's older. And that got me thinking, maybe those two things are linked. Maybe the vampire thing is somehow tied into his reformation.

But I tend to lean towards building my ideas off canon (as opposed to making an AU). And if gideon was a vampire, and knew this during the events of the show, it would have come to light at some point. So, either he doesn't know he's a vampire, or he becomes one later. Becoming one later works narratively, but he's already so vampiric, with the white hair, pale skin, sunscreen, evil, etc. So I'm like, let's go with that.

So, gideon has gone his whole life without knowing he's a vampire, and without drinking blood. I'm thinking that being a vampire in this case (my gravity falls fan version of what a vampire would be) wouldn't adhere to typical vampire conventions. You don't NEED to drink blood to survive.

Here's the idea I got yesterday: after the events of weirdmageddon, gideons experience motivated him to become a better person. It was the awakening, basically. But in the subsequent years, he's still a little shit. Maybe he's in juvenile detention, or prison again. But now, he has the self awareness to know that what he's doing is wrong. This is where my ideas get a little fuzzy, so bear with me. Bud has his suspicions, and as a last resort, puts gideon on some sort of mission trip type of cross country trip, when he's in his teens. And along the way, maybe at the end, there's this secret group of vampires that open gideons eyes to what he really is.

Basically??? Without blood, gideon is very evil. He's an evil little shit. This may not be how it is for every vampire. Maybe some grow very sickly without blood, just get hungry, etc. The effects of blood deficiency vary from vampire to vampire. But Gideon becomes very unhinged. And he'd essentially been Blood Hangry for his whole life. That being said, some of it was just his personality that he needed to work through, but drinking some blood helped a LOT. Blood isn't food for him, it's more like his medication.

Once he has that discovery, he spends a long while, I'm thinking maybe even a year, just recovering from the deficiency. He's almost always drinking blood to keep up his levels, and he's very rarely seen in public to keep the vampire thing a secret. That's what these drawings were supposed to be, him in his pseudo bedridden state. This period in his life would be one big blur; mostly spent binge watching soap operas and being all cozy. In contrast to his usual suit + tie, he's dressing for max comfort: sweatpants, sweatshirt, a knit hat over his ridiculously big hair, and always wrapped in a blanket. Not sure if somehow he feels cold when drinking blood?? But for some reason, I feel like he'd always be wearing like 10 layers and laying under a heated blanket or something.

Eventually, he'd only need to drink blood about once a month for maintenance.

Character development wise - even as an adult, Gideon isn't sure if he's truly a good person. Is the blood deficient version of himself the true gideon? Or is this well adjusted man who he truly is? And there's an issue of the chicken and the egg, too. Gideon was born a vampire. Did these genes activate because he was predisposed to being evil? Or did the vampire thing happen by coincidence? Does being a vampire make him evil, or is it the other way around? He doesn't know, and he never will.

The one thing I'm not sure I like about this idea: i'm worried that I'd be writing off his villainous personality as an illness that can be cured with a thing. Obviously, it would be better if he faced that head on, and figured out how to be better. So I'm still grappling with that. But for now, this is an idea I'm entertaining. Of course, I think it would be interesting if there was a plot point where his usual source of ethically sourced human blood was compromised for a time, and he had to grapple with his personality going topsy turvy.

It's actually embarrassing how much I just wrote???? If you've made it this far, wow, I applaud you. I guess this was just my idea of having a good sunday night, writing down my silly thoughts on gideon gosh darn gleeful. Let me know your thoughts too!!!! I'd love to know if you have any ideas, or questions, or ways to strengthen this potential backstory.

[capquinn]

Twenty-five | Q. Hughes

summary: celebrating the birthday boy pairing: reader x quinn hughes content: fluff word count: 1.5k ↪masterlist

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

It’s Quinn’s birthday, a milestone that feels both big and small at once. He’s twenty-five today, and while that number doesn’t carry the weight of a major life milestone, it still feels significant — halfway to thirty, a solid mark of adulthood. You’d planned a quiet evening to celebrate, something intimate and close to home. Quinn is quietly disappointed that his brothers couldn’t make it this year, both tied up with their own schedules, but having his parents here makes up for it. It’s just the four of you, gathered together in the cozy warmth of the apartment, and while it’s not the whole family, it still feels special — exactly the kind of celebration he needs.

You had spent the day preparing a homemade dinner, and you’d practically banished him from the kitchen, determined to make it a surprise. The kitchen had been your domain as you chopped vegetables, seasoned meat, and stirred sauces, with Quinn sneaking in every so often, leaning against the counter, stealing bites of food before you could swat his hand away. You had shooed him back into the living room more than once, reminding him that it was his birthday and he was supposed to relax. Not that he listened.

Now, as you all sit together around the small dining table in his apartment, the glow from a few candles casts a soft light across the room. There’s a warmth in the air, a kind of contentment that comes from being surrounded by people who know him well, who love him unconditionally.

Jim is laughing at something you said, Ellen chuckling beside him as she rests her hand on his. Quinn leans back in his chair, watching the interaction with a soft smile, a touch of shyness in his eyes as his parents begin sharing stories from his childhood. Tales that paint him in a more vulnerable light — like how he insisted on sleeping with a nightlight until he was almost ten. He’s trying to play it cool, but you can tell he’s both endeared and slightly embarrassed, glancing at you now and then to gauge your reaction.

“Remember when you were five?” Ellen asks, a playful glint in her eye as she focuses on Quinn. “You insisted on a hockey-themed birthday cake, but you hated the taste of the frosting.”

“Oh, come on, mom,” he groans, ducking his head with a laugh. 

You grin, leaning forward to catch his eye. “Wait, so you asked for a cake you didn’t even want to eat?”

“He just wanted to see the players on the cake,” Jim interjects, shaking his head. “But the second he had a taste, he decided the whole thing wasn’t for him. I think we ended up eating half of it ourselves.”

Ellen winks at you, then nods subtly toward the kitchen, signalling it’s time for the final surprise. You give her a quick smile, and together, you rise from the table, Quinn’s curious gaze following you as you disappear into the kitchen. 

The cake is waiting, just as you’d left it: chocolate with a glossy layer of frosting spread just a bit unevenly across the top. Strands of icing form the words "Happy Quarter of a Century, Quinn” in a looping script that you painstakingly wrote out, and the letters tilt a little at the end. The centrepiece is a dorky “25” candle, its red and white wax standing proudly amidst a scattering of chocolate shavings and sprinkles that you and Ellen had added for good measure. The whole thing looks as much a labour of love, with little imperfections here and there, but it’s endearing, perfectly imperfect — and so very him. 

As you approach the dining table, Ellen flicks off the lights, and together you break into song. Quinn glances up, caught mid-laugh at something his dad said, but his words fall away as he takes in the sight of the cake. His face lights up with surprise and a touch of embarrassment, and he ducks his head with a grin, trying to play it cool even as his cheeks flush in the warm candlelight. 

As you set the cake down in front of him, Quinn’s eyes flicker to the stringy icing and he chuckles, reaching out to wrap an arm around your waist, tugging you into his lap. You let out a surprised laugh, instinctively wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you settle in.

“Quarter of a century, huh?” he murmurs, leaning in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Makes me sound older than I am.”

You playfully roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. “Please, you’re barely mid-twenties. No sympathy from me.”

He grins, his hand resting comfortably on your waist as you both lean into each other. Then, you join in with Ellen and Jim’s singing, your voices mingle in a warm, off-key harmony.

For a second, Quinn is not quite sure what to do with himself. He's used to being in the spotlight, but this feels different — more intense, almost overwhelming. It’s not the roaring crowd at the rink or the flashing cameras; it’s the quiet attention of just a few people, the ones he loves most, their eyes on him with warmth and pride. He shifts a little in his seat, a shy smile playing on his lips as he leans his forehead against your shoulder, hiding his blushing cheeks out of view.

“Oh, come on, birthday boy, don’t hide,” you tease. You rest your hand on the back of his neck, fingers brushing through the soft hair there, silently telling him that he’s not alone in this. He laughs, his breath warm against your skin, and you can feel the rumble of it in his chest. 

He shifts, glancing up at you with a sheepish grin, his cheeks pink in the candlelight, but the look in his eyes is full of affection. “You didn’t have to go all out,” he murmurs, though the smile he’s trying to suppress gives him away. His hand is firm at your waist, holding you close, and you can feel the steadiness of his heartbeat as you both sway a little to the rhythm of the song.

“Yes, I did,” you reply softly, your eyes meeting his, and the warmth in your voice makes his smile grow wider. It’s sweet and quiet between you, the room filled with the gentle hum of the birthday song, but all you can focus on is the way he’s looking at you.

Ellen’s voice is quiet as she finishes the final note. She claps, and then softly says, “make a wish, sweetheart.”

She steps back, giving you both a knowing smile as she takes her seat beside Jim, the two of them watching with that quiet joy only parents seem to have.

“Alright, alright,” he says, straightening up, and you can feel his fingers tighten on your hip as he closes his eyes, pretending to be lost in thought. You can’t help but laugh, and he nudges you with his shoulder, both of you sharing a private smile as he finally leans forward to blow out the candle.

The flame flickers once, then vanishes, leaving only the faint tendrils of smoke curling up from the “25” candle. 

Quinn turns his face to yours, and in the dim light, you can see the soft flush of pink deepening on his cheeks, the happiness in his eyes as he pulls you in a little closer. You’re both still giggling, the joy of the moment filling the space between you.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his lips pressing gently against your cheek, lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary. It’s a gentle touch, barely there, but the warmth of it spreads through you, making your heart swell. You can feel the soft flutter of his breath against your skin, and for a second, everything else fades away.

You loop your arms around his neck, pulling him in a little closer, your cheek resting against the side of his head. It's fleeting but the moment stretches on between you, lingering in the soft space between breaths. His arms around you, your fingers twisting through the ends of his hair — it feels as if you have all the time in the world, wrapped up in each other, letting the rest of the world spin on without you.

From across the table, Jim clears his throat with a teasing grin. “Alright, lovebirds, are we ever getting to that cake, or is it just for show?”

Jim's words break the spell, his teasing grin making you laugh as you glance up. Ellen gives him a nudge, but she’s smiling too, clearly enjoying the moment just as much.

Quinn gives a little chuckle, shaking his head as he glances at his parents with that familiar mix of affection and playful exasperation.

Reluctantly, you pull back, reaching for the knife, and as you do, Quinn’s hand slides up your back to lay at rest between your shoulders. You cut into the cake, the knife slicing through layers of rich chocolate, and as you pass the first piece to Jim, Quinn leans in close again, resting his chin on your shoulder with a contented sigh.

In that moment, surrounded by his parents’ laughter, with Quinn’s arm wrapped around you, it feels as if time itself has paused. You share a quick glance, and the unspoken connection between you is a quiet certainty. Of knowing that these are the moments you’ll cherish — today, tomorrow, and for every birthday still to come.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

*steeples fingers together* what if Foul Legacy was the size of a plushie.

he comes to you quite literally in a box, left on your doorstep during one of the few times you're not at work. it's a neat little box, tied smartly with a bow- but the airholes throw you off a bit, and when you pull the package inside and open it you're greeted with a tiny, snoozing creature at the bottom. he's purple and black and blue all over, armored and secure- apart from his face, which shines a vibrant crimson with two twin horns curving upwards. the little monster stirs when the sunlight hits his mask, sitting up with a yawn too big for his mouth and blinking drowsily at you with a single crystalline eye before perking up and letting out a cheery peep. all you can do is watch as he happily hops out of the box and crawls onto your lap, sniffing and nibbling curiously at your hands.

it seems you have a new roommate.

you never find out who left the box, but this beast- this Foul Legacy, as he calls himself, scrawling it for you carefully on a piece of paper- is a welcome reprieve from your daily routine and job. you can carry him around wherever you go, cozied up in your arms or perched on your shoulder as he trills and chirps and admires the sights around him in awe. no one asks questions- you wonder if from afar he looks a bit like a very strange cat- and you've even dared to bring him to work a couple of times, tucked and hidden away in your bag. he sits on your lap whenever he can, sprawling himself out over your legs and stomach and taking up as much room as possible, and in return you hug and squeeze him like a comforting plush, the sound of his buzzing purrs helping calm your frazzled nerves.

he later reveals that he can shift into a larger form, and suddenly you're the one being squished and hugged to his heart's delight.

[lunarw0rks]

*groveling on the floor* nice simon

pleeaase anything w big sweet man simon 😭🩵

ugh… you know what's been on my mind lately?? neighbor!au with all my favorite men - but especially simon! here are some of my thots;

he's so... awkward and off-putting. in the sweetest way. like a stray dog that's only allowed to bite you. neighbor!simon, who's the perfect coresident. rarely home, and if he is, you don't even notice! except for those awkward elevator rides...

obviously, simon being the most vehement introvert, does his best to avoid him. but it's a shady apartment building. things happen; maintenance or rowdy visitors blocking the stairway. so sometimes it's easier to suffer thirty seconds of agonizing silence.

there was you. across the hall from the strange, intimidating man. it's difficult not to be frightened, especially when his way of communicating is through grim eye contact, or god forbid a deep sigh when you accidentally bump into him.

neighbor!simon is never upset with you, though. grumpy is merely his default :( for many reasons. but he always feels awful when you give him that anxious look or go out of your way to make space for him in the narrow hall.

it's not every day he meets someone like you, quiet and respectful of his boundaries. let alone live next to. so... he began to make peace his own way. taking advantage of him always being up at dawn; salting the pavement by your patio to ensure your safe commute to work. cleaning up the stack of mail that the courier tossed at your box, tucking it in neatly.

aaaand eventually moves on to more outgoing gestures. knocking on your door, two little taps with his knuckle. asking if you heard "that noise" outside, purely to make sure you were alright. partially his overthinking getting the better of him, also a cheeky move on his part to see your face.

finds a way to learn more about you, even when you're at your most bashful. typically, when he's caught you in your nightclothes, all pampered and ready for bed. next to him, you feel ridiculous, as if he's not wearing the most basic athleisure.

sometimes neighbor!simon will lean against the entrance of the building, watching cars and listening to the city noise. but he isn't out there for fun. in his mind he's waiting on someone; you. when he hears the creak of the rickety door opening, his posture becomes even straighter than usual.

"bloody cold out here, isn't it?" his gruff voice murmurs, breath visible with every word. months ago, the presence would've startled you. but you'd grown used to his very predictable, unpredictable routine of running into you.

you sigh out your words, rubbing your icy fingers together. no gloves, he notices, but doesn't acknowledge. "why aren't you inside, simon? place is pretty cozy if you look past the water damage."

simon scoffs, "i like the cold," he places his hands into his pockets and reaches for the door handle. "y' workin' today, love?" he inquires, despite noticing your work bag slung over your shoulder.

you mutter an unenthusiastic 'yes', exhaustion evident in your features. it's too damn early for you to be out and about, struggling to make ends meet.

he hums to himself as he walks away, waiting until your figure disappears before crossing the street. he's on his way to the nearest shop.

that evening, when you return to your flat with dragging feet, there's no sign of neighbor!simon. out front, out back, or in the hall. only sign of life is the flickering lamp peaking under the gap of his front door. frankly, you're too exhausted to think about it much.

you raise your key to the lock, stepping forward when it gives way. something blocks your foot, nearly sending you tumbling forward. you peer down at the quaint gift box, nearly embarrassed at the tumble it gave you. proves that your post-work tunnel vision is no joke.

curiously, you examine it. no fancy wrapping paper, plain cardboard. and in place of the ribbon is some decorative twine, halfway decently tied into the shape of a bow. with a gentle tug, you release it and take off the lid. the aroma of cardboard is stronger now, as well as a spritz of a very familiar cologne.

gloves; knitted and coordinated to match your winter jacket. you smile to yourself, taking one last look at simon's door behind you, just as he shuts off the lamp for the night, the spotty yellow glow ceasing.

waiting on you to get home safe, no matter how late. of course, there's a price tag on them. he's not that showy, or crafty. anything he'd try to knit would end up a crumpled slab of yarn.

stepping inside your flat, you set your things down on the counter and run your finger over the soft, thick material. you can already picture the relief these will be on your walk, no longer clocking in with stiff, frozen fingers. new winterwear was on your list for months, but you're notoriously bad at gifting yourself nice — basic — things. and apparently, it shows.

the hollow box rattles when you set it down, as do your keys. finally, you slip them on, thinking of all the days you passed your neighbor simon. never knowing how observant he could be, in the sweetest way.

and they're a perfect fit, of course.

[trashmouth-richie]

𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚜?

summary: just a summer day with your best friend, his girlfriend and his best friend.

A/n: I think I’ve written shy and awkward Eddie one other time but I just love him. He’s a little shy in this but the other chapters he’ll be very awkward

Eddie x fem! Reader, best friend! Gareth

18+ fluff, sweet + shy Eddie.

part 1/?

pt. 2: my ties are severed clean

pt. 3: so I turn back the time

“C’mon princess, the water isn’t that cold.”

“Wanna play mermaids?”

—

The van skid to a stop in the parking lot of Benny’s. Clouds of dust circling in its wake. Loud, mind splitting music blaring from the speakers, turning heads in the diner to glare out the filthy fog stained windows to see who would cause such a ruckus on this beautiful Sunday afternoon in the cozy sleepy town of Hawkins. 

  Your bestfriend since kindergarten, had called you earlier today, begging you to go to the pool with him and a friend.

  “Aren’t we a little old for that?” You protested, balancing the corded phone between your ear and shoulder as you tie the pink apron strings around your waist, “besides Gare, I gotta work today.” 

  Even though his pleads and promises to make it worth your while peaked your interest, you still turned him down. Rent was due in the next week and you were short. 

  So you went to work, waiting tables and slinging pieces of cherry pie to the cheerful families after Sunday service. A smug hint of regret on your customer service smile. 

  It was 91° outside, making the diner feel like a special secret layer of hell that only existed in Hawkins. The itchy starch of your uniform clung to your skin and, sweat pooled down your back and made your hair limp. You took orders while fanning yourself with a menu. 

  Rubbing a sweaty glass of tea on your neck to cool yourself down, you had already replaced your usual bubblegum with ice cubes, melting too quick on your tongue to make it worth it. 

  By 2 o’clock you were tired and uncomfortable from being hot and sweaty. A combination mixed with irritation as one of your regulars yelled at you for forgetting ketchup. And when you slammed down a bottle on his table and cracked a half wit here you are, the bell above the front door dinged to alert you another no tipping customer came in for their dinner. 

  You stretch your lower back with both hands on your hips slightly, you call out behind the faded white swinging doors welcoming whoever to Benny’s and that you’d be right with them. 

  Straightening your hair and grabbing a few menus and napkin rolled silverware, you hear a familiar voice. 

  Not knowing him on a personal level, just from afar. Always with Gareth and the boys, the lead singer of their Hawkins famous band. The long curly haired, mysterious, Eddie Munson stood at the door. 

  He was leaning against the door frame, an unbuttoned flannel flapping gently with the oscillating steel blades of the old fan. The prettiest grin stretching his face into a sweet smile. 

  You didn’t have time to address him before his face turned into a makeshift look of worry. Big doe eyes glistening with eyebrows pulled upward into that mess of curls 

  It’s Gareth, there’s been an accident. 

  Without thinking, you throw the menus down on the nearest shelf and run to tell Benny you have to leave. Grabbing your purse and keys. 

  Gareth was always fucking around, taking his skateboard behind Jeff’s car, lighting fireworks off in the barrels behind the mall— it could be anything. 

  The tears are still fresh in your eyes when the seatbelt clicks into place, followed by a pair of warm hands covering your eyes, the faint familiar smell of camel cigarettes and chips. 

  Eddie speeds off from the parking lot and you gasp and turn around to hear the giggling boyish laugh of none other than Gareth. 

  Sitting smug with a cigarette tucked between his lips, his girlfriend Molly sitting next to him, a small smile on her thin lips. 

  After punching your friend and listening to the two rowdy boys laugh loud at your tears you explain through a pout that you don’t even have a suit. 

  Of course the shared 5 brain cells left between them already had that covered. 

  So here you were, ass pinched in the plastic chairs at the Hawkins Community Pool. The mothers of young children flocked to their reserved seats positioned carefully beside the wooden lifeguard perch. Eager for the brainless attention and smug mustache grin from the mullet wearing asshole that was Billy Hargrove. 

  When arriving to the pool, Eddie and Gareth tore off their shirts and shoes, both wearing cut off jeans into the cool water. Diving into the deep end despite the whistles from the sour faced lifeguards that forbade them from running. 

Heels over head back-flips, cannonballs that sprayed the sidewalk, Olympic style dives from the high dive, throwing kids in the pool who came back for

more—they hadn’t stopped since getting here. Eddie’s soft brown curls hung wet—almost straight down his back and floated in the cool water as he climbed the steps up from the deep end.

  Molly rubs another layer of baby oil on her legs and lets out a big sigh, her tortoise shell sunglasses sitting perched on her button nose. “It was Eddie’s idea, believe it or not.” 

  “What was?” You question, trying to adjust the skimpy borrowed red string bikini around your boobs. 

  “Picking you up,” she answers, a smirk in her lips, “he’s been begging Gareth all summer to give him the okay to ask you out.” 

  Eddie Munson? 

  “Nah uh..” 

  There was no way. 

  “Swear on the Bible, babe,” Molly grins, and she flicks the lighter against her pall mall. 

  “Gareth told me he was dating that girl who works at the Hideout, the one with the big tits?” 

  She rolls her eyes, “Gareth just didn't want his best friend dating his other best friend, he wouldn’t be able to choose sides if you guys broke up.” 

  “I barely even know him,” you say slowly, suddenly feeling a swarm of butterflies tickle your tummy, “he was older than us in school and I wasn’t in Hellfire.” 

  Flashes of your high school years blur before you, when he wasn’t making an ass of himself in the lunch room, Eddie was quiet, small laughs with his friends and completely enamored by D&D. 

  “Well according to Gareth, he’s been wanting your number for years, but was too shy to ask.” 

  You caught his eye a few times since getting to the pool. A shy glance here or there, dark eyes peeking over from the crest of the water to check if you had seen his cool trick from the high dive. 

  Eddie Munson had a crush on you. 

  “Babe!” Gareth calls from the side of the pool, his mop of scraggly curls dripping, “get in the water with us.”

  Molly pushes her sunglasses into her thick blonde hair, “absolutely not, I didn’t come here to play.” you both giggle at him as he pouts and you almost jump out of your skin when Eddie looks directly at you.

  “What about you?” he asks, splashing a handful of water up at you, the droplets hit you like lightning. 

  A small squeal leaves your lips as you wipe the water off your warm tanning skin, “fuck! that’s freezing!” 

  “Oh c’mon princess,” he purred, ignoring Gareth’s eye roll and wiping a hand down his slightly sunburnt face, “the water isn’t that cold.” 

  His smile warms your insides and sends an ache to your core. Lowering your chair you lay flat on your back, tossing a middle finger to the two boys floating in the deep end, a small victorious smile on your lips as the sun shines on your face.

  You didn’t remember ever seeing Eddie with a girlfriend, and from the lies Gareth told you about him being a ladies man, you figured maybe he just didn’t date.

  A shadow is casted against your stomach and face and you peek open one eye to see Eddie standing before you, dripping chlorine water down his tattooed chest. His cutoff black jeans hanging heavy on his hips, the black boxer briefs sitting dangerously low on his hip dips. His large hands thread through his hair wringing out the dark curls onto the concrete.

  Your thighs clench at the sight and your breath hitches in your throat.

  “Don’t make me pick you up and toss you in, sweetheart.” he says all too smooth, shaking his head like a dog. A toothy grin plastered on his ridiculously good looking face. 

  You put a foot onto his wet chest, stopping him in his tracks and wiggling your painted toes against his tattooed skin, “you wouldn’t dare.” 

  And what is meant to stop him only drives his want further. Before you can figure out what is happening, Eddie has you scooped up in his arms and is tickling your sides. 

  “No no no! Eddie, please!” 

  Your kicking and giggling falls on deaf ears as his cold wet skin seeps into your swimsuit, the ends of his hair bead water onto your chest as you cling to his neck. 

  Standing on the edge of the pool, his back facing the water, the browns of his eyes lighten in the sun, and his eyelashes kiss together as he squints. 

  He licks his lips, and you see the flash of what looks like a small metal ball on his tongue, “d’you trust me?” 

  Scrunching your nose you close your eyes and nod, you hear a laugh erupt from his chest as he falls back into the water with you. 

  The water was freezing. And Eddie’s hair covered your face like silky seaweed. Opening your eyes under the water, you see Eddie smiling at you, bubbles encasing him. He grabs your hand and you both break the surface of the water. 

  “Eddie, you jackass!” Molly yells from her chair as Gareth takes comfort in your chair next to hers, “you could have hurt her.” 

  “She’s in good hands,” Eddie yells, his eyes never leaving yours as he treads water in front of you. 

  You blush under his stare, the butterflies taking over and fluttering wildly, you feel like a teenager.

   And you’re almost embarrassed when you blurt out, “wanna play mermaids?” 

  And more surprised when Eddie only laughs and says, “teach me?”

  Your sides hurt from laughing, legs ached from playing like kids with Eddie. Just when you’d think he would want to stop and sit out, he’d come up with another game.  

  Sharks and minnows: he volunteered to be the shark each time just to be able to chase you around the pool. 

You had repeated diving contests off the high dive: where he waited for you in the water raising up his fingers in numbers to every single dive you performed as if he was a judge at an event, his smile wide and cheery. 

  He laughed at the way you asked him to do George Washington style hair dos, but dunked his head into the water to proudly show his new hairstyle, trying not to melt at your little giggle and the feel of your fingers in his hair, pushing his bangs back into submission. 

  When the pool was nearly empty and a sunburnt Molly and Gareth took the van to go get Aloe Vera before Melvald’s closed, Eddie closed you in around the edge of the shallow water during a game of Marco Polo. 

  His voice low and velvety when he answered. Your eyes pinched shut as you reached for him and he closed his fingers between yours. 

  “Got ya,” you whisper, opening your eyes and seeing Eddie staring down into your face. Small freckles dot his nose and upper cheeks from the day in the sun, “you lose.” 

  Eddie’s playfulness is gone, he’s all serious behind the depth of his coal eyes, “you sure about that, babe?” 

  “Is that a thing of yours? Pet names for all the girls?” you tease. 

  His eyes soften and his thumb traces your chin, “and if it was?” 

  The sun is behind his head like a halo, and god he looks like a fallen angel. 

  Your tongue darts out to wet your lower lip, the astringent taste of chlorine bitter on your tongue.  Eddie’s eyes follow, and you see the silver jewelry again in his mouth when he repeats your actions. 

  The thought of that steel ball hugging and sweeping against your lips make you shiver. 

  Before you can answer him, all the lifeguards blow their whistles and announce the pool is closing. 

  But Eddie doesn’t budge and neither do you. His thumb sweeps against your cheek and you buckle under his touch. 

  “Hey assholes!” A loud booming voice full of too much testosterone and choked balls from the worlds tightest swim trunks echoes across the concrete pool, “we’re closed, get the fuck out!” 

  Eddie rolls his eyes up at the mullet wearing douche, and plants his hands on the edge of the pool, jumping out. Water splashes around his feet as he extends a grin and a large hand down to you, “c’mon princess, i’ll walk you home.” 

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Whenever she wants (Hyunjin) ‗ ❍

Pairings : Hyunjin x f reader

Summary : A nice dinner with friends ends in a heated night for you and your husband.

Genre/warnings : Fluff plot with some (long ass) context, ends in smut. Unprotected sex (don't do it you fools), some mutual touching, f oral receiving, coming inside (with a purpose ;) but no breeding kink per sé) STRICTLY 18+

Word count : 5.4 k

A/n : This a sequel to my Baby Fever one shot, but it can also be read as a standalone, you decide <3. This one has been requested by a few people, so I hope both you and them enjoy it!

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

Part 3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was a cold evening in the middle of winter season, end of November to be precise. One of Hyunjin's favorite football teams, which also happened to be one your best friend's husband favorite too, was playing tonight. You weren't exactly an expert in the matter, but according to your husband, it was gonna be a big night.

So, in the end, you all decided to go out to have dinner together. You've already been to that pub before, it was a quite small but very nice and cozy place owned by equally nice people.

You friend texted you a couple of hours before, informing you that a few other people would be joining you. She apologized in advance, expressing her slight annoyance, but she also mentioned how these people essentially took her husband's mention of his plans as an invitation.

You were in fact a little annoyed too, but responded quickly not to worry about it and that in any case the men would've been busy freaking out and being loud away from your table. You knew that neither Hyunjin or your friend's husband were gonna be the type to lose their shit for a sports match in public, so you didn't really care.

Around seven pm you and your husband were ready to go. You turned around to pick up your bag and saw him getting out of the room's bathroom, fixing the dark gray wool sweater's cuffs. His black hair were tied in a half up ponytail, shiny and soft looking. His look was completed with black fitting jeans, gray sneakers, and a silver metal watch that matched the buckle of his leather belt.

He must've felt your gaze on him, so he looked up and smiled sweetly while picking up his long coat from the hanger.

"Are you ready?" you ignored his question, jokingly crossing your arms to your chest, barely hiding a smirk.

"Don't you think that you look a little too good?" he huffed out a laugh, finishing to button up the dark coat. He then walked towards you, leaving a kiss on your forehead.

"Not as good as my wife. Shall we go?" he retorted. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the cheesy response, but nonetheless you still smiled.

"Yeah, sure, let's go"

-

In about fifteen minutes you reached the pub. The parking lot was quite busy, you noticed. Hyunjin rested his hand on your back as you walked towards the entrance, and slid it around your waist to pull you closer when you had to make your way in between the standing people and the tables.

You were looking around, trying to find your friends, until you heard your husband gasp dramatically and remove his hand gently from your back. You turned your head and saw a small baby, followed by his dad, running clumsily into the arms of the man who had now squatted down.

"Woah look who I found! If this isn't my favorite nephew!" you laughed at his funny tone. The boy fell into Hyunjin's arms, only for him to pick him up, walking back to his dad.

You followed suit, the baby smiled at you, babbling your name and reaching his hand out. You scrunched up your nose in a smile, grabbing the little hand gently and saying hi back.

"Thank you for catching this scoundrel. I almost lost him about three times in the span of twenty minutes." you both couldn't help but laugh at his 'tired dad' tone, and gave him a quick hug.

"He's a little runner, this one" you replied, eyeing your friend's slightly zoned out expression. You couldn't help but bite back an amused smile. She really wasn't enjoying whatever conversation the other 'extra' people at the table were having and it was quite obvious, to you at least.

"Heard we're having some extra company." your tone was ironic as you slightly nodded you head towards the table. There must've been around ten people in total, some couples among them too. Your friend's husband huffed, giving you an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry, guys. I happened to mention our plans to one colleague and suddenly everyone and their damn partners decided to tag along for some reason." you put your hand on his arm for a second, reassuring him that you were kidding. You knew he was too polite anyway to even try to say something.

"It's alright. Let's just go- wait where's Hyune?" you both looked around and found him standing near a big aquarium, the almost two year old still in his arms. He was pointing at something, talking to the baby who seemed hypnotized with the bright lights and colors of the fish.

You couldn't help but smile and stare at them, forgetting everyone else for a second.

"Oh thank God, you're here. I swear if I have to listen to one more word about your fuckass boss-" your friend had joined you, making her presence quite clear. You blinked a couple of times, coming back to reality and turning to give her a hug.

"Of course it's the boss talk at an off duty dinner." you replied, ironically. She smiled in amusement, shaking her head. She must've noticed Hyunjin and her son, because her eyes softened and a 'aw' left her mouth.

"He really is perfect, isn't he?" she commented, clearly trying to mess with her husband that instantly pouted.

"What? But what about me? Your own husband?" he was obviously playing along but the interaction wasn't any less funny for that.

"My husband, just had to chase around a eighteen months old for three times in a row." she stressed the words "My husband" just like he did, making you laugh harder.

"But he's lucky both me and him love him very much." she concluded, kissing his cheek. Hyunjin had started to walk back to you, the child suddenly walking on his own legs again, holding his hand for support.

"But maybe he likes his uncle Hyunjin better, uh?" she said again, her voice high pitched and in baby talk mode. She bent down, opening her arms for her little boy that giggled and called out her 'mommy' adorably. Her husband comically sighed at his wife's teasing but quickly smiled, pinching gently his son's cheek.

Hyunjin was also smiling brightly at the sight as he joined your side, wrapping his arm around your waist, kissing your head softly. You resisted the urge to nuzzle his neck and instead patted his chest gently, following with "C'mon, let's go meet these colleagues. Or they'll think that we want to avoid them."

"I wish." Your friend jumped slightly to adjust the baby in her arms, rolling her eyes.

-

You ended up joining the rest of the people at the table, introducing yourselves to everyone. The dinner proceeded quite smoothly, with you and Hyunjin mostly keeping to yourselves.

Not for any particular reason, but you didn't know them, and besides, your friend wasn't totally wrong when she said that all they were talking about was work and topics related to it. You did get a few questions though, especially nosy ones.

"So, how long have you been together?" one of the women asked politely. She was probably one of the more quieter ones, and you could tell that she just wanted to make some small talk.

"We have known each other for some time, but we've been actually been together for three years, and now just a little less than six months married." you responded, a small smile playing on your lips. You saw Hyunjin look at you lovingly and mirroring the smile with the corner of your eye.

"Oh that's really sweet, you seem like such lovebirds." she chuckled, placing a hand on her own husband's wrist. He was distracted by talking with other people but still quickly acknowledged her with a small smile before going back to his conversation.

Before either of you could add anything, another female voice interjected. This other woman was also older, maybe in her forties or early fifties. She rested her chin on her joined hands, elbows on the table. Her gaze was ambiguous and, you noticed, quite fixed on Hyunjin.

"Aren't you a little young to settle down?" about three or four people, including both of your friends, suddenly seemed to start to pay attention to the conversation.

"I mean, if I were you ...I would've simply waited a little more. What if you suddenly felt attracted to someone else? The 'divorce-at-twenty-or so-year old' doesn't look that good on a resume" you felt Hyunjin slightly shift uncomfortably next to you, his arm currently extended behind you, resting on the chair's edge.

"A resume?" you inquired, tilting your head imperceptibly to the side and raising an eyebrow. She smirked for a second, probably noticing how you purposefully avoided commenting on the first part of the discourse. Your face screamed 'It's none of your fucking business' and everyone probably caught up on it.

Your husband certainly did, because his fingertips started to lightly move on your shoulder, in an effort to calm you down. He wouldn't have gotten involved in such a shitty discussion, but he also knew that you wouldn't turn your cheek so easily.

"A relationship resume. Or past experience pillowtalk after some fun, if you will." she shrugged. Your friend suddendly decided to send her husband to take a walk with their kid, fearing the conversation to become vulgar. Of course her, being her protective and polemic self, she wouldn't miss it.

He caught up quickly and took the boy by the hand, guiding him towards the big screen where some of his other colleagues and people had already gathered to watch the game start.

"That's quite the thought process." you replied, not exactly trying to hide the hint on venom in your tone. "But, regardless, I think that mature people wouldn't care about such details. Especially if they don't want anything to do with you after." the woman finally shifted her gaze to you. You could tell that she was a little taken aback, but didn't react much.

"You know, the fun." you added finally, taking a sip of your soft drink. Hyunjin sighed softly, munching on his lip to hide a smile.

Your friend casually put her hand over her mouth for a second, trying not to react too much. The other people listening also either looked away or cleared their throat awkwardly.

"Yeah, maybe." she gave up, also taking a sip from her alcholic drink. Maybe that's why she chose to embarrass the fuck out of herself, you thought.

"Either way, we are very happy right now, which is what matters at the end of the day. Other people can do whatever they want." your head snapped to look at Hyunjin, which you didn't expect would even respond. But you were glad that he felt the need to remark that, especially since that woman was clearly trying to get a reaction out of you, thinking maybe that he would've cowered out. But he didn't.

And with that, this weired conversation ended and suddenly, almost to break the icy vibe that fell over your table, you heard very loud cheering. You saw that a lot more people were getting up to get more drinks and gather closer to both the big screens at opposite ends of the large room to see the team play.

-

Hyunjin ended up getting dragged along with your friend's husband and their son, and with the rest of the crowd, so your friend took the chance to ask you to get a breath of fresh air. Which of course was code for 'let's get out of here and rant, please'. You followed her outside, throwing your jacket around your shoulders to shelter yourself from the cold.

"What was that fucking woman thinking? Imagine if it was in fact, a work dinner. I imagine what kind of 'resume' she would have, pft" she immediately blurted out, crossing her arms to tighten her own coat around herself.

You rolled your eyes, sighing deeply. You kind of wanted to tease her about having a dirty mouth as soon as her son wasn't around, but if you had to be honest, you still felt somewhat upset.

"I have no fucking idea. Did you see how shameless she was? Looking Hyunjin up and down like she wanted to fucking devour him." you spat out, looking around to distract yourself. You felt extremely irritated. And maybe a bit jealous, but mostly irritated at the fact that someone would have the audacity to just behave in such a manner with you present.

Like, you were standing beside him, he had his arm around you, and yet she still tried to make you look fucking dumb and being shameless with a married man. Not gonna lie, it's hard to think about someone who wouldn't be attracted to Hyunjin, but damn?

"I know, right?" you friend agreed, "But remember who actually does get to 'fucking devour him'." she added in a teasing tone, quoting your words with her fingers. Your head snapped back at her, a little taken aback from the sudden mood shift. But you wouldn't expect anything less than a whiplash from her, and you loved her for it.

"Yeah, right." you bit the inside of your cheek, miserably trying to hide your smirk. She laughed, nudging your shoulder with hers.

"And he made it pretty clear, too. What a sight it was." she teased you again, "You know what else was a sight? Him being so effortlessly attractive while playing with a kid. I still don't know how you don't have one yet, y/n." she dramatically sighed, making you chuckle.

"It's in our plans. At first we agreed to wait until after the wedding. Then, if you remember, the birth control gave me some issues, so the doctor recommended to take it easy for some time. Of course we both agreed and then just... I don't know, I mean the conversation hasn't come up again in the last four months I guess." she nodded, remembering you mentioning your visits to her.

"But you're okay now, right?" you nodded back, responding with a yes, and that it wasn't anything that couldn't be fixed.

"Well then, you better hurry up, or you'll have to have twins to catch up to me." your eyes widened, taking in the phrase for a couple of seconds.

"Shut the fuck up! Are you pregnant again!?" you exclaimed, probably a little too loudly, because a couple of people, that were also outside, gave you a look. Your friend laughed, shushing you. You brought both hands to your mouth, still genuinely shocked at the news.

"Yes, keep it down. I still haven't told him yet." she said, just a little shyly. You pulled her into a hug.

"Congratulations, oh my God? Also, why? You know he's gonna be so happy!" you reassured her, pulling back to look at her.

"And also, how long have you known? You gave birth less than two years ago" she laughed nervously, but still humorously.

"I found out just about a week ago. The test said around three weeks, so I'm not sure. I'll tell him and then book an appointment, I think." her tone was serious at first, but then she shrugged casually, failing to hide a guilty smile.

"Turns out that not even sleepless nights and an unhinged eighteen months baby can't cancel out the horniness." your mouth went agape and you slapped her arm jokingly.

"You rabbits! Oh my God!" you both laughed. Just at that moment, the pub's door opened, showing Hyunjin looking around for you. His eyes quickly found yours and he smiled sweetly, walking towards you.

"Aren't you cold?" he spoke softly, standing behind you and rubbing your arms gently. You turned your head, giving him a peck on the lips.

"It's fine. She keeps me on the edge." you joked. You friend snorted a laugh, clicking her tongue humorously.

"What's the topic?" he asked jokingly. You both shook your heads, laughing a little.

"Just girls talk. Is the game over yet?" she cheked her phone to see the hour. Hyunjin nodded. "Yeah, they were pretty quick, almost half an hour early. We won though, that's the important thing." he smiled proudly. You chuckled, extending your arm above your shoulder to cup his cheek with your hand.

"Of course it is, honey." your friend bit her lip to hide a smile and decided to leave you two be. She sighed and moved past you, towards the entrance.

"Well then, congratulations for the winning night. I'm gonna grab my two fanboys and go to bed, feeling kinda tired after all that shit talk." both you and Hyunjin couldn't help but laugh at that. You bid her goodnight, agreeing that you coming back inside to say bye to those people wasn't all that necessary, and then walked back to your car.

-

The car ride was pretty quiet, except some small talk about the dinner, but neither of you really mentioned that one wired conversation. You arrived and walked back inside hugging, and after that you each changed clothes and got comfortably in bed.

"You still smell damn good, by the way." you commented, hugging his torso while nuzzling his neck. He was halfway sat straight, his back against the bed frame.

He was holding you close with one arm while absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, something about social media posts of the game. The dim, warm toned light of the bedside lamp making you sleepy.

"Oh yea?" he smirked down at you, "Then that perfume money were well spent." you just hummed in agreement, closing your eyes and relaxing. He waited a couple of seconds before speaking again.

"By the way... I'm sorry for what happened tonight. If I knew that a wired person like that would've stirred up shit, I would've canceled the whole thing." you re-opened your eyes, looking up at him, your hand gently stroking his stomach.

"It's not your fault, Hyune. I actually wanted to thank you for speaking up. You didn't even had to acknowledge her, to be honest. I know how much you hate these situations." you respond, genuinely. He locked the phone, putting it on his bed side table, and turned on his side to look at you directly.

"I'm still sorry. Also, of course I had to. You're my wife, my partner, my love. I wouldn't let anybody have a word on it. Especially thirsty women old enough to be my mother." you hid your face in his shoulder, laughing. He chuckled, happy that he managed to make you smile.

"Can't really blame her, at the end of the day." you said, starting to leave featherlight kisses on his neck. He swallowed, making his adam's apple go up and down.

"What, mmh- what do you mean?" he stuttered, clearing his throat. At the same time, he started to slide his fingertips up and down your back. As a response, your kisses got messier. You gave the skin small kitten licks and light bites.

"Don't play coy, you know you're hot" you laughed faintly, starting to lift his shirt to move your kisses to the skin of his abs, stomach and slowly to his ribs. His breaths started to get deeper, and he even let out a small moan.

"What about it?" he responded, cocky. You smiled against his skin, deciding to descent again with your mouth, teasing him closer to the southern zone where you could feel he was getting hard.

"That it's reasonable to think why someone would want to fuck you into next week" he hummed, so deeply that you could feel the vibrations where your mouth met his body.

He then gently cupped you face, making you lean back so that he could latch his lips to yours in a deep kiss. He interrupted the kiss to talk and you lowkey whined at the loss, making him laugh lightly.

"Maybe. But then again, you know who actually gets to fuck me into next week?" he spoke lowly, making you shiver. He was waiting for a response, but you were already too dizzy on his kisses to notice.

His fingers gripped your face gently, making you look at him. His eyes, shiny and intense, looking into yours.

"Your wife" you whispered, turning your head slightly to take his thumb into your mouth, and started sucking on it. At that point he groaned, removing his hand from your face and switching positions so he was now hovering over you.

"Fucking right you do" he attacked your neck and collarbone, pulling your shirt down to expose more of your skin. You quickly pushed him back slightly, grabbing the hem of his shirt to take it off of him, and he did the same with you, leaving you completely bare since you weren't wearing a bra.

"I'm yours, and yours only" he said breathless but with such intensity that it elicited a moan from you. His mouth started to kiss, nip, suck and lick at one of your tits, while he grabbed the other one with just enough strength to get you even more lightheaded.

"Fuck- Hyunjin" you gasped when he grazed one of your nipples with his teeth, "And I'm yours" you managed to respond, your fingers tangled in between his dark locks, lightly pushing him onto your chest.

He suddenly detached from you, making you whine at the loss, and also at the sudden chilly air hitting the wet spots on your breasts, where his mouth was just seconds before. Hyunjin didn't waste time, removing both your tracksuit pants and underwear in one go, disposing of them on the ground next to the bed.

"Yes, my pretty wife" he kissed your hips and then up your legs messily, "Only mine"

"My beautiful love" he whispered. You could've melted on the spot at his words, if only the fact that he was now licking and biting the inside of your thighs wasn't making you mad with desire.

"Hyun- Hyunjin, please" you couldn't stop the desperate tone in your voice, and it amused him. He chuckled against the skin on your thigh, moving his right hand from your hip to your pussy.

You had closed your eyes in the meantime, so the sudden touch, even though featherlight, made you gasp and look down. His mouth was still leaving kisses on the upper inside part of your thigh, so close yet so far to the zone where you needed him the most.

"I liked how you put that woman in her place" his voice mixed with humor while his fingers had started to spread your wetness around, up and down your slit and then around your clit, which made you buck into him a little.

"What-" you were confused for a second, that awful person completely out of your mind already.

"You're really hot when you get mad, you know?" he kept going, his fingers kept on touching your pussy, until he teased your entrance with just two fingertips. Your hands gripped the sheets, your chest going up and down deeply.

"You have this habit... this cute thing where you go like this-" as he said it, he tilted his head to the side, looking up at you as he took a long lick throught your slit, from your entrance to your clit.

You moaned loudly, that single lick making your body physically twitch. The whole thing was becoming too much and you felt the corner of your eyes get wet with tears.

"Hyunjin, stop it and just get to work already" you blurted out, looking at him with such a serious frown that it made him chuckle again.

"Exactly what I mean" he responded, and after that really got to work. His whole mouth started to alternate open mouthed kisses and licks on your whole slit, but then mainly focused on your clit when two on his fingers easily entered you.

"Ah- yes, so good, Hyune" you mumbled, your mind fogged by the pleasure your husband was giving you. He hummed against you at the praise and started to move his hand faster, wet and lewd sounds proved just how absolutely drenched you were at that point.

After a couple of minutes he really started to suck harder on your clit while moving his fingers inside you in a come hither motion, and that was it for you. You came on his hand and mouth, your head thrown back in pleasure, eyes shut, breath heavy. He took all that you gave him, and then some more.

"Good girl" he mumbled after gently parting his lips from your pussy, still lightly touching you to allow you to come off your high slowly.

"My beautiful girl, so pretty" he positioned himself back up to your side, his clean hand coming up to move the few hairs that got stuck on your slightly sweat covered forehead.

"You did so well for me" he said again, kissing your head, and then completely pulling away from you to bring his still completely wet fingers to his mouth, sucking on them.

You looked at him, his eyes shiny from excitement, his forehead also lightly covered in sweat, his full lips wrapped around his own fingers. The same ones that he had used on you. He looked beautiful, so hot and erotic...a sight to behold. He was also looking down at you warmly, lovingly.

You didn't say anything and just reached out to gently remove his fingers from his mouth, and then kiss him. The kiss was slow, sensual and deep, a lot of tongue and licking, biting lips involved.

Your hand went down to reach for his pants, but he gently took your wrist to stop you.

"I'm okay, my love. You don't have to-" you interrupted him with a kiss, your hand sliding into his pants and then boxers. He moaned lowly in your mouth when you started to palm him and stroke his length.

"Take them off" you mumbled against his lips, and he nodded absentmindedly, using just one hand to get the job done, and just like that he was at your mercy.

You were about to slide down to his hips level to reciprocate the favor, but once again he cupped your cheek.

"If you want me to fuck you, I'm afraid that we'll have to have a raincheck on that, my love." he laughed faintly and a little embarrassed. You smiled at him softly, nodding.

"Aright then, but now it's my turn. Let me ride you, baby" you said sensually, eliciting a moan from him when you switched positions, and now he was laying down beneath you. You left a trail of wet kisses on his body but didn't waste time to reach his cock. It was perfect, in your opinion.

Smooth, on the longer side and just the perfect amount of girth that you could take while also feeling full. It's like it was made for you. He was made for you.

You completed each other in such perfect ways in everything, that you couldn't help to think that maybe this is what those romantic people refer to when they talk about 'soulmates'.

You spit on your hand, for good measure, since you were still more than enough wet and ready for him. You straddled him, your heat hovering barely over his hard cock.

You took him in your hand, slowly pumping a couple of times from base to tip. A couple of drops of pre cum swirled down your fingers and it was at that moment that you took a decision. You eyed him from under your lashes and saw that he was already so worked up that he had to keep his eyes shut and breathe deeply to not cum too fast.

So you didn't waste any more time and just positioned his cock at your entrance, sinking down on it slowly. His hips involuntarily bucked up, making his tip reach your deepest point. That chain of events made you both gasp loudly and then moan.

"Y/n, baby, I'm not gonna last long" he warned, breathless. You shushed him with a finger to his lips. You started to ride him slowly but steadily, making sure to covering his entire length in the process.

Hyunjin moaned softly, mouth agape and eyes half closed but still focused on you. His hands went to either sides of your waist and hips, then ass, to accompany your movements. You started to kiss him deeply while going a little faster, making sure to move your hips around.

It was making him go insane, so he just decided to catch you by surprise and sit up, your body flushed against him, his whole arms wrapped around you as he fucked up into you. Your arms instinctively wrapping around his broad shoulders, your fingertips gripping so hard to leave white dots on his tan skin.

"Fuck- y/n I'm so close baby-" he spoke, his mouth latched to your neck. You nodded, following his movements with your hips to encourage him.

"Wait- y/n, we didn't use a condom" he groaned "I gotta- fuck, I gotta pull out" he sounded desperate, so you reassured him again, making sure to let your intentions clear this time.

"It's okay, baby. I want you to come inside me." he slowed down his movements, looking you in the eyes in shock.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his genuine concern so sweet. You nodded, kissing him deeply again and speeding up you hips movements. Then you leaned to his ear, whispering "I want you to make me a mommy"

That phrase must've triggered something in him, because you suddenly found yourself on your back, again. Hyunjin over you, his cock still painfully hard inside you.

"That what you want, pretty girl? You want to be a mommy?" he teased slowly, in stark comparison to the deep strokes that he was giving you. You gasped, the rhythm leaving you breathless.

"I want to make you a daddy" you responded, your hands going up to cup his face and bring him closer to you to kiss him.

You gasped again, leaving his mouth and looking down. He had pressed one of his hands on the very low part of your belly, causing you such an overwhelming pleasure that you couldn't breathe.

"Then you're gonna be a good girl and take everything that I give you, right my beautiful wife?" his hips sped up, clearly searching for release. But of course he wouldn't come before you did, so his other hand went to work on your clit with fast strokes.

The mixture of his cock inside you, his hand on your clit and the other one pressing down on your lower belly was enough for you, and that's when you came. You saw fucking heaven, if you had to be honest.

"Oh my- fucking God, Hyunjin, oh yes, yes yes" you cried out, holding onto him for dear life. Your moans of pleasure and your pussy clenching so hard around him was his last drop, so not even after a couple of seconds he came too.

He came so hard that he had to lay on you for some time to calm down. You just held his head against your chest, caressing his hair. Both of you sticky and sweaty by now.

You relished in the feeling of his cum inside you, something that you haven't been feeling for months. Hyunjin slowly moved off you, and you both hissed when you lost contact, both still very raw and sensitive. He was panting, sitting back on his calves, admiring the mess that both of you made.

He then gently closed your legs, making you stay on your side, while he positioned himself behind you as the big spoon. He also threw the sheets on the both of you, to stay warm. A few minutes passed before any of you said anything.

"Why is it always like this between us?" he asked, a hint of humor in his voice. Your drowsiness was taking the lead on you, but you fought it off.

"Like what?" You replied, couldn't help but to yawn. He hugged you closer, his hand going to rest on your lower belly.

"Messy. Impulsive. Now that I think about it, our wedding day was the only organized day of our entire relationship." you both chuckle.

"It's okay. We're doing it out of love, so it's okay." you reassured him. He hummed in agreement.

"Look at us, not even parents yet and already setting bad examples for our kids." he continued, making you laugh and hide your face in his arm.

"We're going to do great." you concluded, a sweet smile on your face at the thought of your future with Hyunjin.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[colormepurplex2]

Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop | MYG

▻ Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop ↳ ArtProfessor!Yoongi x Artist/CoffeeShopOwner!f.Reader ⤜ Strangers to Lovers, Cozy Romance ⤜ Coffee Shop/Art AU | fluff, smut ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 8,028 ⤜ Summary: It’s like clockwork; you receive the same online order every weekday morning at eight o’clock: large decaf iced Americano, picked up promptly shortly after. His face has become familiar, as a part of your routine as the hiss of the espresso machine. Until, one day, that routine takes an unexpected turn, and you find yourself getting familiar with more than just his face. ⚠️ Very mild language, panic over student/teacher potential date (reader is a student, but she's the same age as Yoongi, just taking classes later in life than most), oral m receiving, fingering, kissing, mild dirty talk, cum swallowing, confessions of the heart

A/N: This is part of my 'Heartbeat Melodies' mini-series, where I write fics that are inspired by songs. If you'd like to hear the song that inspired this, you can find it here! A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi & @moonleeai for their amazing beta services!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

“Large decaf iced Americano,” you call out, barely glancing up from behind the counter.

A deep, familiar drawl pulls your attention, “That would be mine.” It’s only familiar for the fact you’ve heard that voice nearly every day for the last six months.

Your eyes snap up from the tablet, where the next online order has come through, to meet warm brown ones. “I should have known,” you reply before you can think better to bite your tongue. Heat suffuses your cheeks. You pull your lips between your teeth to stifle the groan of embarrassment that begs to be released.

The man chuckles, absently using a knuckle to push up the hornrimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know if I should be offended or honored by that comment. But, I guess I do come here a lot.”

Nearly every day for the last six months, at least. That’s how often he comes here—to your coffee shop. It’s tiny, barely big enough for a handful of small tables and chairs. But it’s yours, and you’re proud of it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to seem…” you trail off. Not sure how to finish that thought because you’re not entirely sure how you meant it or why you said it other than the fact you’re a bit frazzled this morning and apparently forgot your mouth filter at home. It was a late night last night for you. It's not an excuse, but still.

He waves a large hand in the air, dismissing your apology. “Please, it’s quite alright. I’ll take it as flattery; could use a little boost to my confidence anyhow.”

That almost makes you sputter in disbelief. There’s absolutely no way this man needs any flattery. Surely, he comes by it in droves. Because, well, he’s honestly so gorgeous it should be criminal.

His hair is fluffy, somewhere between charcoal grey and black, though the warm lighting of your cafe gives it a golden honey halo effect. The eyes behind his black-rimmed glasses are dark swirls of espresso that match his coffee order—a straight nose sitting above soft, pink lips that have a light glossy sheen to them.

As usual, he’s wearing a pressed slack and jacket combo, a cream-colored collared shirt underneath with a bold print tie. His choice of ties is what drew you to him in the first place, and made you pay a little closer attention to the mysterious man behind the large decaf iced Americano.

You clear your throat, daring to be bold, while it seems you’ve no filter to stop you. “Well, if you ever need further flattery, you know where to find me.” It’s clear that you give him an assessing once over, his eyes locked onto yours as you do so.

“Do you paint?”

The question throws you off, nearly making you drop the tablet in your hands. Your fingers flex against the case, your thumb brushing along the glass screen. Busying yourself with reviewing the next order on the screen, you turn, giving him your back as you decide how to answer his random question. You’ve never actually had a conversation with him; this man that you feel like you know yet is a complete stranger.

“Why do you ask?” you deflect as you go through the motions of scooping grinds and swapping out the portafilter for a freshly filled one. However, you know it’s not always polite to answer a question with a question; you’re just not sure how to decipher his curiosity or where it came from to begin with.

The bell above the door rings, and you wince as the espresso machine gurgles and hisses loudly as you mechanically pop a cup in the machine and hit the brew button. The noise fills the quiet space of the coffee shop. It’s not until the cup is filled, you’ve added two lumps of sugar, and you’re grabbing a lid that the man responds.

“There’s paint under your fingernails. Or, at least, what I would guess is paint.”

Glancing down at the cup in your hand, you take in the colorful myriad of flecks coating your skin. The colors fill the grooves of your knuckles and hug around the bed of your nails.

“Double espresso with two sugars,” you announce, ripping your gaze from your hand to the interior space of your cafe. A woman steps around the man, giving you a hurried smile as she holds out her hand to receive the cup. You hand it off. “Have a good day.”

Giving the cafe's inside a quick glance, you ensure all the customers within are taken care of. A college student is busy pounding away at their laptop keyboard in the corner, utilizing your free wifi. A half-empty cup of hot cocoa sits cold and abandoned beside them. A trio of friends sit at your only table big enough to seat more than two people, laughing softly and sipping hot lattes and teas. No one seems to need your attention; except the man still standing there, large decaf iced Americano in hand.

You lick your lips, a nervous habit you picked up after endless stressful nights pouring your heart, soul, blood, sweat, and tears into opening the small cafe. Most believed it would flop; others rallied to your side and helped your dream come true.

“Look, sorry if I’ve overstepped somehow,” he begins, but you shake your head, letting him know he’s not.

Gesturing at the wall behind the man, you finally answer, “In my spare time.”

He glances over his shoulder, eyes zigzagging across the giant unfinished mural covering the windowless back wall of the cafe.

“That?” he asks. “You’re painting that?”

It’s hard to decipher if that’s disbelief or awe coloring his voice.

“I am,” you answer a bit hesitantly.

“Wow!” he exclaims, a giant grin spreading across his face, crinkling his eyes at the corners. “I’ve been meaning to ask after the artist every time I come in and see something new added, I just uh,” he brings his free hand up and rubs it across the back of his neck, eyes dropping to the floor under his feet, “well, could never bring myself to.” It’s pretty, the way his cheeks take on a flush of color as his eyes cut to you from over the frame of his glasses. “It’s wonderful work.”

“Thank you.” You can’t help your own flush of shyness at his praise.

“So, uh,” he lifts his cup and gives it a swirl, the ice sloshing around inside, before taking a small sip through the straw, “I know you probably see it on the order, but for the sake of propriety, my name’s Yoongi.”

Min Yoongi, to be more precise, you know. It’s a name you’ve read so many times it’s ingrained in your mind. However, it’s still nice for him to offer it to you. Willingly establishing your connection one step further than his coffee order.

You feel so silly tapping the name tag on the front of your apron, but you do it before you can think better of it, mumbling your name as if he can’t read it for himself after you brought direct attention to it. “Sorry, I’m not normally so weird,” you give a shaky laugh, willing yourself to shut up before you chase him off from how awkward you’re being.

Something changes in his demeanor, his eyes taking on a light twinkle that sits somewhere between mischief and wonder. “I like weird,” he offers casually as if that doesn’t make your stomach swoop and your heart beat a little harder. “Maybe we can talk more about your art sometime. Maybe over dinner? Or lunch if dinner is too forward.”

If you were a cartoon, you’re confident your tongue would actually be tied into a jumbled knot right now with you frantically trying to talk around it, a comical scene for sure. Yet, there is no knot, just a thick feeling that you have to swallow past. “Um, yeah, sure. That would be great. Dinner…or uh, lunch. Both. Either one. Though, dinner might be better considering my hours.”

Yoongi glances at the vinyl hours printed on the front window by the door. They’re backward from his vantage point, but you assume he has no issue reading them, considering he turns back to you and asks, “How does seven work for you?”

“Tonight?” The beating of your heart lurches again, and you can barely hear him over the rushing in your ears.

“Yeah, if that’s not too soon. Perhaps next week, if that’s better? I don’t want to come on too strong. Or well, rather, what I mean to say is, don’t feel pressured.” You can tell he’s feeling hesitant now, trying to backtrack and offer you a way to politely decline his offer for dinner tonight. You didn’t mean to come off sounding so put out. You just weren’t expecting his request to be for tonight.

Mentally, you dig through your schedule. You’re not closing today. Marvin comes in at noon to help with the lunch rush, and then you leave at four to make it to your five o’clock class. It would be today of all days that your new art class starts. It’s the beginning of the fall semester at the local university, and you just so happened to decide to take a few art classes they were offering, the first of which starts tonight.

The class should only be around an hour long, with plenty of time to get home and change before the date. Is it a date? Or just strangers getting together to talk about art? Isn’t that what a date is anyway, though?

“Seven. Tonight. That would be great.”

“Okay, perfect. Can I pick you up? Or we can meet here if that works better.”

It’s endearing he’d offer, both picking you up and meeting in a familiar place. Considering you live above the coffee shop, though, it makes no difference. Though, he doesn’t necessarily know that.

“Here is fine.”

“Wonderful. Have you tried that steak house on the corner yet?”

“The new one that opened last week?” He nods. “I haven’t, no.”

“Perfect.” Yoongi smiles. “Here, at seven. Consider it a date.” His smile falters, and his brows pinch, forming a line between them. “Not that I…well, it’s not that…it doesn’t have to be…if you don’t want this to be a date, that’s—”

“It’s a date,” you confirm, giving him what you hope to be a warm smile to ease his mild panic. “I’ll see you then, Yoongi.”

“See you then,” he responds, tacking your name on at the end in his deep drawl. The way it sounds coming from his mouth should be added to one of those spicy erotica audiobooks you may or may not have downloaded on your phone.

Just as Yoongi is leaving, it’s like the world finally takes a breath, and the exhalation that follows brings with it a rush of early morning commuters seeking their morning fix. The everyday bustle and hubbub of the day filter back in, and you’re soon lost to the sway of the shop, coffee, tea, and cocoa. It all comes alive beneath your nimble fingers, much reminiscent of the way holding a brush makes you feel: a thrill of the soul with each pour.

☕☕☕

Yoongi

In all Yoongi’s years of teaching, he’s never been late to a class, especially on the first day of the semester. Yet, he’s nearly fifteen minutes late getting into his classroom this morning. Students are already filled in and scattered around the theatre-style seating. No one says anything. It’s far too early in the morning for smart mouths and snarky remarks about his tardiness. Not that he would expect that from any of the students anyway.

“Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min.” He drops his bag and coffee off on his podium at the front of the classroom. Turning to the large chalkboard behind it, he scrawls his name to the side and then begins to write directions. “We will begin with Chapter 1, ‘Mediums and Forms’, in your textbook. Please read quietly, and I’ll be with you all in a moment.”

The day goes on, class after class, and the familiar monotony of it brings Yoongi a sense of peace. This is familiar territory; he’s in his element, not like this morning in the coffee shop. He felt totally out of control and swept up in the swirl of uncertainties and possibilities.

To say he’s relieved you agreed to go to dinner with him would be an understatement. From the moment he decided to change up his routine to check out the cafe Namjoon wouldn’t shut up about, he’s been hooked not only on the impeccable decaf iced Americano, nor the beautifully decorated and painted interior but on the smiling face behind the counter.

Yoongi feels a bit self-conscious thinking about how much he thinks about you. He’s always been too intimidated by the idea of speaking more than a few passing words to you. It’s like every time he gathered up the courage, it would abandon him at the last moment. Namjoon calls it a crush, Yoongi calls it frustrating.

The whole conversation this morning is a bit of a blur to him. Yoongi swears once he opened his mouth it was nearly impossible to stop the word vomit from gushing out…and the next thing he knew, you were agreeing to a date with him tonight.

The day's last class rolls around, and Yoongi feels much lighter as he steps out of his adjoining office and into the classroom to welcome the new students. A few offer him quiet hello’s, some he’s seen from other art classes he’s monitored across the entire department and fine arts program. 

Turning his back as the last few students filter in, he makes the same spiel he has at the beginning of every class. “Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min…”

And so it begins, the beautiful dance of teaching and introducing fresh minds to the concept of forms and mediums. Yoongi is sure he could recite the entirety of Chapter 1 from memory now, with as many times as he’s gone over it today.

“What if you decide you don’t like your form or medium halfway through the project?” a student from the front row asks after Yoongi explains the medium and forms requisite for the final project for this class.

“We’re going to spend plenty of time during the first part of the semester testing out different mediums to know which best suits each of your individual tastes and needs. Regarding the form, I recommend choosing something you most likely won’t tire of. Something that means something to you but also isn’t so complex that you frustrate yourself and burn out before you can complete the project. You’re welcome to, at any time, bring me an idea of the form you’re considering, and we can talk about the intricacies and any potential issues that might arise with using it.”

Another question comes from somewhere in the middle, “Can we choose people, too?”

“A form can be anything that inspires you. If that happens to be a person, then of course. However, note that portraiture isn’t covered until Art 322, but I’ll do my best to help if that’s what you choose.” Yoongi glances at the clock, noticing there are only a few minutes left of class. “Let’s take the last few minutes to wind down, pack your things. If you have any further questions concerning your final project forms and mediums, please don’t hesitate to email me. Also, my office hours are open Tuesdays and Thursdays from two to six.”

As Yoongi turns to begin putting his things away from his podium, his eyes slide across the faces of his last class students, trying to cram them into his mind for the sake of remembering. He always likes to be as personable and approachable to his students as possible; knowing names and faces is always a good place to start.

He has to do a double take as his eyes flick over the very top row. The shock is felt throughout his entire body. It’s not that he’s surprised to see a face he already knows. It’s just that he wasn’t expecting it…wasn’t expecting to see you. Mild panic makes him jerk around, hands gripping at the papers on his podium, shuffling them mechanically.

The first thought that crosses his mind is he can’t possibly be going on a date with one of his students. Surely you’re just here to…to what? He turns over one of the papers, quickly scanning his roster that he hadn’t bothered to check yet. It doesn’t take long for his eyes to snag on your name.

Unease settles across his shoulders. He hates to cancel the date, as he was really looking forward to it, but it’s just…not right, right? There’s a line he shouldn’t cross with his students, even one who he is sure is his age and not the typical college freshman. Yoongi knows this because maybe, perhaps, he might have spent his lunch hour googling you and the cafe. You’re in your early thirties, given the birth year that was viewable on one of your social media pages, and own the coffee shop, have for several years now…a full-ass grown adult—the perfect person to date.

Except now you’re his student. There’s some moral code there somewhere, something about the skewed power dynamic. The thought of going on this date should have red flags flashing in his mind. Yet…yet, no matter how much he tells himself to cancel, he honestly doesn’t want to. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt that much, right? A harmless date.

That’s what he’s still telling himself as he dismisses the class a few minutes later. He intentionally avoided looking in your direction, unsure if you’d be comfortable with him acknowledging you as one of his students or not.

Much to his surprise, as the bubble of sound dissipates, a soft voice reaches his ears from a few feet behind him, “Fancy meeting you here.”

Yoongi has been so consumed with his own feelings about going on a date with a student that he hasn’t even thought about how you might feel. Are you about to cancel on him? Does he try to convince you not to?

He slowly turns, the stack of papers clutched in his hands, glasses slipping down his nose, yet he doesn’t want to pry his fingers from the bundle to fix them. “Look, I understand if you’d rather not—”

“I’m fine as long as you are.”

He’s relieved for your interruption, for keeping him from saying those words out loud. “Are you sure? If I had known this morning that you’d be one of my students…” he trails off, because he’s not so sure that would have stopped him after all. Considering he’s wanted to ask you out for at least the last four months.

“I’m glad you asked me. Student or not. I promise not to make it weird if you don’t.” You give him a brilliant smile, coy and full of mirth but light enough to make his heart jerk inside his chest.

“No weirdness, got it,” he agrees, unable to help his own teasing smile.

“So, I’ll see you then?” you ask, hefting your canvas bag on your shoulder. His eyes flick to it, noting the splashes and swirls of fabric paint that cover the outside. Yoongi wonders if you painted it yourself.

He nods, letting his eyes drink you in one last time before you turn to go. You’re still wearing the same jeans and thin cable knit sweater from the coffee shop this morning. Even in such casual clothes, you are stunning. A work of art all your own. He doesn’t stop staring until the door to his classroom shuts behind you.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. It’s not out of irritation or anger, just an acknowledgement of how truly and utterly he’s got it down bad for you.

☕☕☕

Seven can’t come soon enough. It only took you thirty minutes to get ready, putting on a simple black dress and flats. It’s not too fancy, but it makes you feel far more put together than just jeans and a t-shirt.

At five til, you make your way down into the coffee shop from your upstairs apartment. All of the main overhead lights are off, leaving only the warm accent lights that line the menu board and the display case lights on. Even now, the space smells delightedly of coffee.

It’s kind of funny, the fact that you’re not a coffee drinker. Everyone finds it odd that someone who doesn’t drink coffee would aspire to open a coffee shop. What they fail to realize is you love the smell of coffee. The warm, roasted, mildly sweet notes are what you thrive on, better than any shot of espresso in your mind.

There is a street lamp right outside your shop, flooding the sidewalk with a pool of yellow light. Standing just within the glow is Yoongi, his back to the shop door. You watch as his head swivels, looking down both directions of the sidewalk, completely unaware that you’ll be coming from behind him instead.

The sound of the lock turning over startles him. He jerks around and laughs softly, taking a step back, hand to his chest, as you pull the door open. “Can’t say I expected you to come from inside the cafe.”

“I would have been down sooner had I known you would be a bit early,” you say, locking the door behind you. “I probably should have given you my number or something.”

Yoongi eyes you, his gaze sliding up and down your body like he’s drinking you in. You hope he likes what he sees. “I think I was so excited about the date that I forgot even to ask,” he admits, giving you a sheepish smile when his eyes finally land back on yours. “You look,” —he gives you another quick once over, shaking his head and sinking his teeth into his bottom lip— “gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you preen under his praise. “You look quite handsome, yourself.”

You’re not just saying that to return the compliment, either. Yoongi is wearing the same thing he was this morning, except the tie is loosened, and the top button of his shirt is undone, giving you the slightest peek at his prominent jugular notch.

“Shall we?” he asks, offering you his arm.

You slip your hand into the bend of his elbow, falling into step beside him. The walk to the steak house is short, just enough for pleasant exchanges. He asks how your day at the coffee shop went, and you ask after his first day of classes. Neither of you bring up the fact that you were part of one of those classes.

“I’ve been meaning to check this place out. I’ve heard excellent things.”

Yoongi hums, nodding his head at your words. “I’ve also heard good things, though it might perhaps be biased considering all the praise I’ve heard has come from the owner himself.”

“You’ve spoken with the owner?”

“He’s one of my best friends, actually. This will be the first time I try it out. I kept telling him I’d stop by, but it always got away from me.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up. “I can’t believe you know Seokjin.”

“Wait, you know Seokjin?” Yoongi asks, surprised.

“I’d say know is a relative term. We get deliveries from the same produce truck. He tried to take my apples one time. I had to set him straight.” That makes Yoongi laugh along with you. “We chat sometimes, mostly about the quality of produce and the best places to get ingredients. I had no idea he was your friend.”

“Small world,” Yoongi says. His smile is warm and inviting. You’re sure you could get lost in it if he’d let you. It makes you wonder what his lips taste like. They have a slight sheen to them like they did this morning. Cherry chapstick? Maybe mint? A nice subtle vanilla?

You’re not sure the last time you laughed so hard you had tears in your eyes. But Yoongi has your sides in stitches and your cheeks aching from smiling and laughing so much during dinner.

“Oh gosh,” you wheeze between fits of giggling, clutching your stomach. “Ow, ow. Don’t make me laugh again. I can’t take it.” It just makes you laugh even more, the huffs trailing off as Yoongi reaches across the table toward you.

You pry your hands from your abdomen and slide them into his. His fingers are warm against yours, his thumbs rubbing across the backs of your knuckles. It’s a gesture he’s done several times tonight, silently asking for your hands any chance he could.

“Sorry, you just have such a beautiful laugh,” he says. “I could listen to it all day.”

His flattery hasn’t stopped. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the two glasses of wine he had with dinner were going to his head. But, he speaks so assuredly and looks in your eyes like you’re truly something special.

Feeling so intimately connected with someone you barely know might be absurd. Yet, you can’t help but feel drawn to him. If you’re being honest, the attraction started long ago, and tonight has just made it blossom into something so much more.

Yoongi has been the perfect gentleman. He’s not tried to railroad the conversation or make decisions for you like other guys you’ve gone on dates with. Whenever a server approached the table, he would defer to you and your needs before his.

“You’ve been so wonderful to me tonight. Please let me repay you with coffee and dessert. If you’re up for it.”

Yoongi squeezes both your hands before letting them go and sitting back in his chair. “There is no need to ‘repay’ me,” he says, emphasizing the word repay. “But, I wouldn’t say no to a date after this date, say in fifteen minutes, coffee and dessert?”

“Fifteen minutes? Coffee and dessert?” You give him a thoughtful look, tapping your fingers against your chin. “Hmm. I think I’m available.” You both break into more fits of soft laughter, contrasting so highly to the high energy from before; it’s intimate, if laughing can be such a thing.

It’s easy being with Yoongi; he’s attentive and curious. “What made you want to open a coffee shop?” he asks as you unlock the door to the cafe.

“I liked the idea of having a space that could cater to people from all walks of life. Businessmen in a hurry? Get it to go. Students needing a place to study? I have a quiet corner for that. College professor looking for his daily decaf Americao fix? Would you look at that? I got that covered, too.” You usher him inside, closing and locking the door behind you. “It also doubles as a great place to have a private coffee and dessert date after a lovely dinner date.”

You watch as Yoongi looks around the cozy space, his attention ending on the mural wall. “What’s your favorite kind of coffee?”

“Would it be weird if I said I don’t like coffee?” you ask.

He glances at you from over his shoulder. “Really?”

You shrug. “I love the way it smells, though.”

“Acrylic?” Yoongi asks, nodding toward the mural.

“Good eye,” you assess, stepping behind the counter to start making the coffee. You grab two pecan cinnamon twirls from the dry storage where you keep extra treats to take up to your apartment at the end of each shift and pop them into the small convection oven along the back wall. “You teach art, but it might be presumptuous of me to assume you also create. So, do you?”

“Not nearly as much as I’d like to. Pastels and charcoal are my favorites to work with. I like the mildly messy, chaotic feel of them. There are few things better than the feeling of taking something so uncontrolled and turning it into a thing of beauty.”

“Charcoal, huh?” Your mind instantly goes to the framed collection of pieces you have in your apartment upstairs. “I can appreciate that.”

“Maybe I can show you sometime.” Yoongi turns from his appreciation of your mural to watch you work behind the counter. He gestures to a few frames hung up on either side of the giant menu on the wall. “Arfé, right?”

You glance up, moving with automated motions to load the portafilter into the espresso machine. “Oh,” you laugh. “Yeah. An experiment. I wanted to try something new and needed some new decor. I thought it was appropriately on theme.”

The half-dozen pieces are all made with swirls of various shades in brown and tan and depict a mix of cups, mugs, bags of grinds, lumps of sugar, and piles of roasted coffee beans.

“Very appropriate. They’re lovely. You’re an exceptional artist.” You’ve lost count of the amount of compliments Yoongi has paid you tonight. You might have been the one flattering him this morning, but it seems he’s making up for that now.

“Thank you. Truly. That means a lot coming from you.” The hiss of the brew machine fills the air, and the soft gurgle of espresso trickling into the small mug follows. “One decaf Americano for one of my best customers,” you say, carefully carrying the steaming cup over to a table beside Yoongi. “Please, sit.”

Yoongi settles at the table, bringing the cup of coffee up to his nose and giving it an appreciative sniff. “Wonderful,” he murmurs before taking a tentative sip. “Thank you, that hits the spot.”

“If you think the Americano is good, wait until you try this,” you say, scooping the twirls out of the oven and onto a plate. They’re perfectly warm and gooey. “You’ve never tried any of our pastries, have you?”

You sit across from him. The table is small enough that you could reach out and cup his cheek if you wanted, and set the plate on the table before Yoongi. He whistles low, “Wow, these do look amazing. Maybe I’ll become a pecan twirl and coffee guy every morning instead.”

Your eyes track his movements, watching as his fingers pinch and slightly sink into the edges of one of the twirls. Some of the warm glaze and cinnamon sugar filling squishes from between the layers.

Yoongi’s lips part and the tip of his tongue peaks over his bottom teeth as he brings the pastry up to take a bite. The moan he lets out surprises you both. His eyes flutter before landing on you and going wide. He chews methodically, his gaze not leaving yours. His tongue darts out, swiping over his lips before he swallows.

“Well?” you ask, settling your elbows on the table and leaning into him, expectant.

The smile that tugs at his lips is coy. “Might be one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth.” There is a heat in his gaze as his eyes search yours. “What other surprises do you have up your proverbial sleeve for me?”

“Now, if I told you, they wouldn’t be surprises anymore, would they?”

That makes him laugh. “Fair point. You know,” he glances around the coffee shop, “I never knew just what it was about this coffee shop I loved so much, but I think I’ve figured it out.”

“Yeah?” you say, feeling positively giddy.

“Mhm. So,” he mirrors your pose across the table, his elbows nearly touching your own, fingers toying with yours where they’re folded in the air in front of your face, “is it too soon to ask you on a second date?”

“I thought this was our second date.” You raise a teasing eyebrow, a smile quirking on your lips.

“A third then,” he offers, eyes hopeful.

Of course, you want to say yes. And in the spirit of trying to be coy and playful, you lean in with the full intent of showing him instead of telling him how much you want to go on another date.

Yoongi’s eyes flicker to your lips, watching as you deliberately lick them as you lean in a bit closer. Acceptance lies within their dark depths, a flash of hunger at the impending response that’s only a breath away.

As you advance, your elbows slide on the table, accidentally knocking the coffee cup. Liquid goes everywhere; it floods over the table and pours off the side…right into Yoongi’s lap.

“Oh fuck!” you yell, jumping up from the table and rushing around to his side. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Do I need to call an ambulance? Does it burn?”

Yoongi pushes back from the table, holding his arms up off his lap as he assesses the mess. “No harm done. It was already cooled off. It's just a bit of a mess, that’s all. I’m fine,” he laughs. “Truly, I promise. Do you have any towels or anything?”

“Oh god, your shirt, it’s going to stain,” you lament, staring at the dark splotch soaking through above his trousers. “Towels? Yes. Yes. Okay. And some baking soda. Come on, let’s hurry. Again, I’m so sorry!”

“Should we clean this up first?” he asks, motioning at the coffee-covered floor.

“I can mop in the morning. Please,” you fret, guilt making you a bit frantic and flustered.

Yoongi lets you lead him up the stairs in the back that go to your apartment. “You live here?” he questions. “No wonder you were coming out of the coffee shop earlier. That’s very cool.”

You make a noncommittal sound. “It’s cool if you like the smell of coffee and don’t mind rising early every day to open shop.”

It’s so hard to think right now, your mind solely focused on cleaning up the mess you’ve made of Yoongi’s clothes. That’s what you get for trying to be sly and answer his date question with a kiss. You’ll be lucky if he still wants that date now, surely.

The bathroom is barely big enough for the two of you. You insist Yoongi sit on the lip of the tub while you dig under the sink for the baking soda that you use for cleaning and removing your own coffee stains.

“Hey,” Yoongi says softly, grabbing your attention. You glance at him over your shoulder, bottom lip clamped between your teeth in an effort not to fall apart entirely. “I promise it’s okay, alright? You don’t have to stress over it. It’s just an accident. It's a pretty funny one if you ask me. If I’d have known we were getting wet on the first—I mean, second date, I would have planned accordingly.”

His words hang between you, full of static and charged with intention. He’s trying to lighten the mood…and it’s working. It’s also making you feel a certain kind of way. Words shouldn’t have the power to do that. Yet, here you are, flustered for a whole different reason now.

“Date’s not over yet,” you respond, unsure where the bold attitude came from, but you’ll take it. His eyes flicker with something like surprise mixed with desire, though it’s gone before you can really be sure. “Do you mind?” You gesture to his shirt. “It’ll be easier if I can soak it in the sink.”

Slowly, Yoongi undoes the buttons on his shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. Somehow, you weren’t expecting him to be naked underneath, but every open button reveals another swath of flesh. He shrugs out of the shirt, revealing a toned chest and taut belly. His nipples are hard, dark chips, standing out in contrast to his smooth, creamy skin. Yoongi is absolutely breathtaking.

In fact, you have to remind yourself to breathe, taking in a large lungful of air that’s so much it makes your chest ache. He holds the shirt out to you in offering. Your fingers tremble lightly as you take it, quickly turning back to the sink and the distraction of scrubbing at the stain.

Reading over the garment tag quickly, you make sure what you’re about to do is okay. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on your back, like heated dagger points pricking beneath your skin. You turn on the water, letting the tap run until it’s hot, before quickly swishing the area of the shirt covered in coffee under it. The hot water alone makes a world of difference, the dark liquid swirling away down the drain.

“Do you want my pants, too?” Yoongi asks, startling you.

Your eyes flick up to the mirror, looking at him through the reflection. He’s talking to you, but his attention is zeroed in on your backside. Suddenly, you’re intimately aware that your dress has ridden up dangerously high. You can feel the cool air of the bathroom kissing the crease between your thigh and asscheek.

Turning off the water, you slowly turn to face him. Your chest rises and falls as you try to take deep, even breaths, but with the way your heart is revving inside, it’s impossible to do so. “Let’s see the damage,” you say lightly, raising an eyebrow in question, giving him a chance to call you off.

When he doesn’t comment further, you close the distance to where he’s sitting and ease down onto your knees. You mentally tell yourself it’s so you can get a better look at the coffee that’s saturating the dark fabric, but you know better than that.

Being so close to him, you can feel the heat of his body. His chest rises and falls as rapidly as yours, and when you look up and meet his gaze, there is no mistaking the fire that you see blazing there. “Don’t think I forgot you still haven’t answered my question,” he murmurs, lips barely moving as he watches you.

You lift a hand, hooking your index finger under his chin and using it to angle his face toward yours. “I’d love that,” you respond, your lips brushing over his with every syllable.

He kisses you. Or maybe you kiss him. It’ll be something you tease each other over for many years to come. You open yourself to him, welcoming the glide of his tongue against yours. The kiss tastes mildly of coffee, yet for the first time in your life, you don’t mind the flavor.

“For me to take my pants off, or the date?” he teases, alternating between nipping and consuming kisses. Yoongi’s hands frame your face, holding you to him as he continues to ravage your mouth.

“Mm, both,” you manage to get out. “Definitely both.” Sliding your hands down his torso, you marvel at the softness of his skin and the already very prominent bulge that your fingers dance over as you try to get a grip on the button to his slacks.

Yoongi breaks away from the kiss long enough to help you with his pants, standing up from the edge of the tub and bringing you up with him. He toes off his shoes, leaving his pants puddled on top of them. “Good answer,” he chuckles.

You let out a tiny squeal as he wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs and hauls you up, your legs automatically winding around his waist. Thick erection pressed right against your panty-covered pussy, he slowly walks you out of the bathroom and into your adjoining room. You land on the bed with a soft oomph, Yoongi following you down. His weight is a comfort, settled over your body in a warm, hedonistic embrace.

“I’ll change classes,” you pant, flexing your hips against his. “As long as our next date is to an art gallery.”

“Is it weird for that to turn me on?” he responds, groaning as you roll your hips against him again. “The art part, not the dropping classes part. You don’t have to do that if it’s too much trouble. I know your schedule must be pretty set with the cafe.”

You press your hands against his chest, giving him a gentle push until he’s rolling over and you’re hovering over him. “I’ll make it work. I want to make it work. Everything tonight,” you pause and sit back on your heels, dragging your hands along his torso as you do, “I want more. You’re driving me crazy in the best of ways.”

“Says the woman who’s been running through my thoughts for the last several months now.” Yoongi’s lips part in a gasp, turning his last word into a breathly plea as you trace the tips of your fingers over his straining erection. The fabric of his grey boxer briefs is slightly sticky when you brush your thumb over the head.

“It reminds me of making art,” you casually say, curling your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and tugging until he lifts his hips and lets you drag them down. You toss them to the side, marveling at the glory now resting against his belly. Yoongi’s cock is a gentle upward curve, all smooth steel and thick veins. It throbs, bouncing against his stomach, leaving behind a thick smear of precum. “The way you make me feel.”

“Art?” he asks, breathless. His eyes flutter behind his glasses, his chest hollowing as he sucks in ragged breaths.

“Being with you gives me the same feeling as viewing a Duncanson or a Matisse, calm and full of joy. Though, you can also make me feel the chaos of a Kandinsky when you touch me.” To emphasize your words, you wrap your fingers around his girth, angling it up, watching the emotions on his face. The tip of his tongue works at the corner of his mouth, lips parted with every pant and soft moan. “Is this okay?” you ask, leaning down and gently blowing over the leaking tip before tentatively giving it a kitten lick.

“More than,” Yoongi moans. His eye slide closed as you wrap your lips around the head and suck. The flavor of him bursts across your tongue. You can’t help but moan yourself at the idea you’ve made him like this, hard and leaking.

Working as much of his cock into your mouth as you can, you delight in the shuddering convulses you can feel from his body as he loses himself in the sensations you’re bringing him. Yoongi always seems like such a collected individual. He still appeared so well-kept even when he stuttered over his words asking you on the date this morning. Now, though, he’s unraveling into a puddle of debauchery.

It’s a satisfying feeling, similar to when you get into a perfect rhythm when working on a project, bringing him to the edge. You work your mouth and hand in tandem, never leaving an inch of his cock free of your touch.

“Mmm,” you moan, the head of his cock resting in the back of your throat. Yoongi jerks under you, half raising onto his elbows, his eyes zeroing in on where you’re wrapped around him.

His fingers twist into the duvet, bottom lip puffy and flushed as he worries it with his teeth. “I’m going to cum,” he grunts, throwing his head back and moaning his pleasures, deep and throaty.

You quicken your pace, hollowing your cheeks as you suck in earnest. Yoongi cries out a second before liquid warmth floods your mouth. It’s greedy, the way you swallow and continue to lave your tongue over him, eliciting tiny tremors and more moans.

“Just like art,” you whisper, finally letting his cock slip from between your lips. You’re riding your own high, wet and throbbing between your thighs. You can feel the ache in your clit, begging to be touched. All it would take is a few seconds, a few well-placed swirls of your fingers, and you know you’d be floating in orgasmic bliss.

Before you can even think of bringing your hand between your thighs to find relief, Yoongi is sitting up and urging you backward. Your back hits the mattress, and he settles on his side beside you. Somewhere between there and here, he pulled off his glasses. Despite having just found his release, his eyes are still so full of hunger and desire.

“May I?” he asks, pressing a hand against your inner thigh. You nod, eyes locked with his as he slowly trails his hand upward until his fingers brush over the soaked fabric of your panties. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers, leaning in to capture your mouth in a languid kiss. Your lids flutter closed, consumed as you are by his touch.

Yoongi takes his time, toying with the edge of your panties before tugging them down past your knees. They pool around your ankles as he pushes your thighs apart, exposing your weeping pussy to the air of the bedroom.

“Yoongi.” His name is half moan, half curse as he brings his hand back up and cups your heat. The meat of his palm rests against your clit, right where you need to be touched, but the pressure isn’t enough to satisfy.

“An exquisite work of art.” His lips strum against yours, plucking and teasing just the way his fingers do through your wetness. The tips of his fingers briefly kiss your clit, dancing away before returning; a slow build of decadent pleasure.

It’s not above you to beg. “Please. Yoongi, please!”

“Open your eyes, look at me. Let me watch you fall apart so I can brand it into my memory.”

You snap open your eyes the exact moment he slides two slender fingers into your pussy, thumb finally giving the needed pressure to your clit. You’re so worked up that your body pulses around the intrusion, a tiny fluttering orgasm rippling through you.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

Yoongi gives you a wicked, knowing smile. “It’s not over yet, beautiful,” he assures you in a whispered promise.

His fingers are long, able to reach the perfect, special place inside you. As he strokes his fingertips, moving them in an undulating wave, his thumb swirls in a circle around your clit.

The next orgasm is less surprising, building to a heightened peak that has you crying out as you careen over the edge, entirely at Yoongi’s mercy. “Yoongi, fuck!” you babble, your whole body alive with sensations of pleasure.

“That’s it,” he coaxes. “So beautiful.”

Your body shudders around his hand, his fingers slowing down their rhythm until you finally recover. The slide of his fingers along your walls as he withdraws makes you wish he’d put them back in…or maybe something else. The bereft feeling lasts only a moment before Yoongi gathers you into his arms. He’s completely naked, and you’re still wearing your dress, but you feel just as exposed as he is…only, it’s your soul on display for him instead of your body.

You wait for the feeling of vulnerability to filter in, that broken feeling of uncertainty. But, it doesn’t come. The only thing you feel is complete and utter content. It’s not even the post-orgasmic bliss that’s clouding it, either. No, there’s plenty of that, but it feels different; he feels different.

“Yoongi,” you begin, resting your cheek on his chest. You want to confess to him, but the words get choked in your throat. Is it too soon? Are you completely crazy? What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Fuck. Here goes nothing. “This feels good, really good. Is it too soon to say…?”

“Too soon to say?” he prompts.

You absently trace haphazard swirls and lines across his chest, trying to think of how to word it. “I, well…”

“Too soon to say that I think possibly, maybe, I’m falling for you?” You look up at him, surprised by his words. Yoongi looks at you with so much warmth and affection in his eyes. “Because that’s exactly how I feel, too.”

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️   2023-12-30 ColorMePurplex2

[anticanonsposts]

Hii

I have an idea and it's kind of silly but I'll ask anyway because I love your writing

But you could do a Konig domestic where he passes out for some reason (not a battle wound or anything) and reader take care of him and then he's SO clingy afterwards

Tks 🤍

omg tysm!!! also i appreciate the requests so please keep making them!!! (i live off of the validation i get on here)

also i have some more stuff in the drafts that i wanna write, and i love the trend thats been going around about nerd!konig and i rly want to contribute so stay tuned!!!

cw: none

König had such a big day. His girlfriend y/n had been working tirelessly for the past couple weeks at her new job. She was definitely more stressed out than normal and König felt so bad. So he decided to run multiple errands that day (Friday) before she got home for the weekend. First he went grocery shopping, a smaller store and Costco to get some essentials. Then he came home and cleaned their apartment from top to bottom, because he knew it wasn’t her favorite and it would be so nice for her to come home after a long week. When he was at the store he also made sure to pick up her favorite snacks, drinks, and ingredients for dinner. By the time he was all done he fell onto the couch exhausted. Flicking his wrist up he saw that it was 4:30 which meant that in a couple hours y/n would be home. He felt pretty satisfied with himself, but also very tired. As he was thinking about getting up to shower and wait for her to get home, the grips of sleep clasped over his eyes and he fell asleep :/.

Some time later, y/n opens the front door to her and König’s shared apartment and walks in, ready to just relax this weekend. Immediately she notices how clean everything is. After putting her bag down she goes over to the refrigerator, knowing there wouldn't be much in it since they needed to go grocery shopping. To her lovely surprise whens he swung open the door she saw all of her favorites. This makes her connect the dots in her mind, König must have done all of this while she was at work today, how sweet. 

“He’ll be getting something nice later” she mutters to herself, smiling as she walks away toward the bedroom. But she quickly stops when she looks over to see Konig, absolutely passed out on the couch. 

Carefully pitter pattering over to him, she pauses and lovingly gazes down at him. His mouth slightly agape, a small snore coming from him. Although he looks precious sleeping on the couch, she knew that if he stayed like that, he would wake up with the worst back pain ever. So gently she started to sit him up, and led him half asleep to their bedroom. König would have absolutely no recollection of this when he woke up, thinking he had either moved himself to the bed or that he had fallen asleep on the bed by accident. 

Once in bed, y/n gently arranged pillows and squishmallows (shameless self insert <3) around König’s body to make him as cozy as possible. Once satisfied she started to strip so that she could go shower. 

About ten minutes later, König gently woke up to a slight steam in the room, and the smell of strawberry and rose from y/n’s soaps. He stirred more, bringing his hands to his eyes to rub them awake. Then, with a sudden jolt, he sat up, feeling panicked. 

How could he let himself fall asleep?? He was supposed to finish setting up the perfect, relaxing evening for y/n. But no, his sleepy ass just had to ‘rest his eyes’ for a second.

But before his thoughts could spiral too much, he hears the shower being turned off. So, quietly he meanders to the bathroom door, slipping off his shirt, hoping to join her in the shower. Giving the door a few soft taps so as not to spook y/n. He’s met with the door swinging open and a beaming (naked) y/n, her body freshly moisturized, hair tied up since she washed it the day before, and in the middle of her skin care routine. 

“Hey baby! I noticed everything in the kitchen, and I really appreciate it.” she says, eyes shining with nothing but love. It is returned by König’s eyes, practically with hearts in them. Nothing made him happier than doing things for her, other than being with her. 

Wordlessly, he steps closer to her, pulling her body close to him by the small of her back and shoulder. He knows from past experience to not touch her face while she is doing her skin care, (he has been reprimanded before). Bending over slightly, he presses his lips to hers taking a breath in as he does so. Pulling away, he sits himself on the closed lid of their toilet that of course has a fuzzy pink cover on it. 

Now taking a moment to scan his eyes over her body. Not quite in a hungry way, but more so admirable. Taking a few moments to appreciate every plush curve, every supple, plump part of her body. She was too perfect, she looked like a renaissance painting, something that an artist created when they were tasked with painting beauty itself. 

Broken out of his haze, y/n says, “Can I do your skincare?” 

“Yes of course.” he responds, giddy inside. Whenever she offered to use her products on him, he was always super happy. It meant that she would be looking at his face, and giving him small, gentle touches. He had never been with someone like this. His past was mostly hook ups, a couple ‘relationships’ here and there but nothing this intimate. Having someone’s gentle hands glide over your face over and over again as truly more intimate and sensual than any sex he had ever had. Now, he had no idea what products she was using on him, she could be painting his face purple for all he knew, if it weren’t for the mirror. But this was part of the trust he liked about this activity. Knowing that she was sharing her products that she spent her money on, that were clearly good enough for her beautiful skin, and she was sharing them for his scarred, damaged skin. 

Once she started putting eye cream on him, König took his large arms and wrapped them around her body, pressing his bare chest to her naked body. Minutes passed as she finished the routine, and all König could focus on were how pretty her eyes looked when she focused on something. As well as how their bodies moved opposite each other with their breaths. 

Y/n, smoothing out the last moisturizer onto her boyfriend’s face, letting each of her hands rest on either side of his face, palms pressed against his cheeks, fingertips gently clasping onto his face. His face has its share of scares, but is warmer and plumper now that he has been out of the military for a while. She appreciates everything about this man, his tenderness, his patience, and of course how obsessed with her he is. Then breaking her own rules after skin care, she starts pressing soft kisses along his cheeks and jaw, then resting her forehead against his when she was done. 

This man’s eyes welled up with tears. He loved how soft she was with him, how kindly she treated him. His mind started to wonder as he started giving her small half blinks, completely enamored with his girlfriend. 

“König?” y/n says softly, it was about the third time she called his name. Bringing him out of his stupor. “I’m gonna fix my hair really quick then we can cuddle ok?” she says raising her eye brows slightly. Earning a small nod from König, she figured he would leave and go wait for her on their bed. But instead, he slightly loosens his grip and allows her to stand up. Facing the mirror again, y/n starts to fix her hair from the various clips she used to clip up her curls for her shower. König, still in the bathroom, chose to stand right behind y/n. Completely behind her, pressing his front against her back, bracing his arms on either side of her body. 

He can be pretty clingy sometimes, but this was surprising, even for him. Nonetheless, y/n doesn’t mind and finishes with her hair before turning her body. Signaling to König that she was leaving. He holds onto her left hand as she basically leads him to the bed. Quickly breaking from his grasp, she goes to her closet and puts on one of König’s shirts, and a pair of undies before climbing onto the bed and pulling König along with her. 

He grabs the tv remote and switches it on, telling her to put on whatever she wants. Then he settles himself in between her legs, now that she’s lying on her back. And nuzzles his face into her chest, wrapping his big ass arms around her middle and sighs contently. She reciprocates by running her fingers through his hair which just brings him past cloud nine. 

Y/n switches on some tv show that she has been binging recently and König soon falls asleep against her chest, feeling completely at peace. 

notes:

I know this isn’t exactly what the prompt says?? I rly just wanted to write sm where König does a bunch of little things for the reader 

[heartfullofleeches]

Perfectly Sweet

Yandere Candy Harem + Gender Neutral Candy Witch Reader

Word Count: 10.7k

Summary: After a tragic incident resulting in the loss of your bakery, you awake in a land of sweets desperately searching for a way to return to a time and place that has abandoned you.

Warnings: Light body horror, [candy] cannibalism, hallucinations

A/N: A piece A few months in the makings. I hope you all enjoy :)

-

There once was a witch.

The first of her kind.

“A candy witch? What a silly idea!” 

 She was sure to disagree. 

“It’s my magic. Shouldn’t I have a say in its use? If I can’t do for myself first, I haven’t the heart to do a thing for anyone at all!” 

The witchling was the youngest in a lineage of powerful witches dating back to the founding days of their cozy little town. Her mother was the town healer in her prime and her mother’s great-grandmother fertilized the ground for which their town was built upon. The little witch had big shoes to fill, but neither fret nor shied away from what fate had decided. No – she outright rejected it, and sought to fill her dreams and goals much closer to home - right in the pit of her bottomless stomach. 

If the girl had one claim to fame before her prime, it had to be her enormous sweet tooth. She started her days with two spoonfuls of sugar, and three more by noon. She was not tied to the restriction of the human diet and did as she pleased to satisfy her endless craving. 

“Even tragedy can be sweet if it’s paired with the right treat.” – A saying she swore to remain true to, but behind closed doors the little witch could not carry her own words to heart. As the days of her coronation drew near, she became aware of the whispers around town – how self and cruel she was for abandoning tradition and her people. The kind faces she’d known all her years slowly turned spiteful and bitter – spurning her ambitions, and her turning her back on the community that raised her. The young witch wore a brave face, but behind closed doors she was not as bold as she seemed. She cried and cried, swallowing sugar and honey to ease her pain.

Due to constant ridicule and mockery, the little witch would have given up on everything had it not been for that one person.

On the eve of a new moon, there was a knock at her window. The young child of the town baker came to her with a task capable for her talents alone. With an influx of orders their parents had forgotten to bake a cake for their child’s birthday. Used to the treatment they did not wish to go another year without celebration and fled in the dead of night to the only source who could aid in their troubling times. 

The little witch could hardly hide her annoyance. Lack of a party was one thing, but no celebratory desserts to make up for it? No cake? Pie? Not even sweet bread? What fools the human had the misfortune of calling their parents. Could their kind do nothing without the help of hers? 

Against her own volition, she acted from the kindest of her heart and sought to fulfill their desperate plea. The little witch brought the young baker into her home, and through the night the two created the most extravagant birthday cake the baker nor anyone in town had ever seen. The excitement they expressed wasn’t held by them alone. The little witch had more fun baking with them than she ever had with a member of her blood. The gratitude and joy on the human’s face was something she had never seen before. Something strange. It made her feel odd. They must have slipped poison into her dish, but even that didn’t seem right. 

They treated her as a lifelong friend though their alliance began that very night where it should have ended. Being with that human gave her a toothache unlike any sugary treat could. As their bond grew, the witch would gradually learn that what she tasted that fateful eve was the start of something true. That human cracked the icy cage sheltering her fragile heart and woke her to new desires. 

She wanted to see them smile again. She wanted to make others happy in hopes it’d give her that same strange feeling in her stomach again. She’d never feel that exact  spark from anyone besides her new found friend, but the warmth in her chest was powerful to keep her newfound goals onward. 

The little witch and the baker’s child were inseparable from that day on. The pair grew as one - perfecting the recipes passed down to the young baker and adding a few of their own to the mix. They shared their creations with the town to prove the witch’s dreams were true as any other. Many still opposed, but they could not turn a blind eye to the duo’s efforts. The day of her awakening came and the young witch remained true to her heart – supported by her dearest friend who created an entire buffet of sweets to celebrate their second happiest day together.

Balancing magic and her culinary skills, the then adult witch unlocked feats far beyond that of her ancestors. A witch’s heart was their most powerful tool, and hers was filled with the love she held for sweets, her town, and the baker who changed everything for her. They flourished right alongside her into a kind, strong hearted individual, and later took over their parents' bakery as was tradition in their family. Just as she owed her success to them, they could do little without the aid of their favorite witch and invited her to take ownership with them. She’d be a fool to refuse their offer.

Perfecting her craft in all corners, the witch discovered what wonders her sweets could truly possess with a sprinkle of magic – some more groundbreaking than others, but nonetheless spectacular. Cupcakes that turn hair the same color as their frosting. Hard candies that could cure most illnesses. Cookies that would grant the eater’s truest wish with a single bite. She created an entire house made of sugar and sweetness for her and her dearest friend to live in. The townspeople who relied on the witch’s magic were amazed by the fruit of her hard labor, and the baker couldn’t be prouder which made the witch happier beyond compare. They noticed how hard she worked and only wished there was more they could do for her. The demands of the people piled in by the day, and though she wore a smile everyday they could see the cracks. The witch merely laughed off their worries, and carried on as usual. 

She was happy. They were happy. Everyone in the whole town was happy – but the happy days wouldn’t last forever unless the baker did something to aid the woman they loved. 

Rumors floated around town of normal humans becoming powerful witches over time. They say it only took a brave heart, a dedicated mind, and a wish. What people didn’t was that there was a fourth element involved. The second most important in a witch’s survival.

A strong body.

The baker pleaded with the witch to allow them to learn magic beside her. She had never been able to say no to them. The baker was a natural. Once she deemed them ready to practice, the human would master spells even she had difficulty with. It was no surprise to her considering their passions were one in the same, and if anyone was truer to their ambitions than her it was them. Together, the two were unstoppable. Untouchable. They worked off each other’s weaknesses and knew the other better than they knew themselves.

Which is why the witch was the first to notice. 

It began with a cough. The weather had grown quite chilly so neither thought much of it. A few of the witch’s homemade remedies and they felt good as new. Then - they began sleeping in. They went under spells of fatigue from the littlest tasks. Soon enough, they couldn’t even hold a spoon. 

The witch tried every spell in the book to save them. She took on the manning the shop alone so they were able to rest. It was the loneliest she had felt in years, but she’d do anything to save the human she loved. In the end, it was all for nothing. 

They died in their sleep while she was away from home – fulfilling the wishes of others while hers died alone at home.

The witch did everything she could.

She cried.

She begged.

She ate till her stomach felt like it was going to burst. 

To ease the pain, to bring them back - but even she could not raise the dead.

The cookies she shoved down her throat tasted bland and stale. Nothing was sweeter than the kisses the baker placed to her cheek every morning. She never got to tell them. She never had the chance to express her true feelings.

The witch screamed. 

Tore her hair out and cursed whatever horrible force that bound her to this fate. Made her weak. 

Please….

She cried over and over. 

Take me instead.

Don’t leave me here all alone.

 I can’t do this without you.

You said you’d never leave me.

Why?...

Please…

DON’T LEAVE ME! 

The townspeople gave her time to grief. It was the only mercy they gave. The knocking began. Their whispers slipped beneath her door. They asked her for more. She’d given them everything. Her heart, her love, her sweet, foolish baker- yet they still wanted more.

Selfish.

Greedy.

Cruel.

That’s all their kind had ever been. They took and took until there was nothing left. No… There was still one thing. She wasn’t going to let them take the shattered pieces. She refused to let them walk over her as they had trampled those before her. She’d take back everything they stole and more. She’d create a world catered to her desires. A place made of cinnamon and sugar, with subjects molded from the same ingredients and just as sweet. Creations who’d love and obey her for the rest of eternity. What the witch didn’t know…

Was they’d betray her worst of all. 

.

.

.

“Alright…. I think that’s enough for one year….”

“Awww.. but we nearly reached the end this time, didn’t we?”

“Yes, but – are you really sure this is something you want to hear on your birthday? It’s a pretty tale…” 

“Of course! I want to know everything about you, Sweets. Even old fairy tales in older, duster cookbooks.” 

“Hahaha, Fine….. Stay with me another year and we’ll finish it – I promise.”

“Better wish real hard then…. Who knows how many we have left.” 

.

.

.

“Help me…..”

.

.

.

“Help!” 

Smoke pads your lungs. Hands – hardened and calloused from years of labor pound and claw pathetically against solid wood. In lighter years, visitors would joke it’d take a stampede to tear down the door of your bakery. Fresh tears sting your wet eyes at the painful resurgence of memory. You press your apron tighter over your mouth and nose - sucking what precious oxygen remains as you prepare for what may be your last plea.

"Please, help me! I didn't do it!"

You know they can hear you. Over the crackling pops of roaring flames and the walls caving in around, your voice reigns louder than all. You hear their chants grow louder to drown you out. Accusations of a crime you'd lay your own life before than commit.

"I didn't hurt them! I'd never hurt them…. They were all I had. Please don't do this to us!..... At least let me say goodbye…."

Their chorus continues. Doubt seeps into the shouts of many at your desperate cries, but their verdict remains the same. 

witch….

Witch….

WITCH. 

There's no use. None of them will change their mind. If anyone tries to help you now they'll surely be tied to the same fate. Blinking away tears and the burn from your eyes with one final look at those who had forsaken you, you turn on your heels - rushing back into the flames devouring everything you once knew and loved. There had to be another way out. Every entrance had been board up, but… the windows-

Acting swiftly, you hurry into the kitchen - swiping the satchel used for your deliveries from its hook right before the entire rack is brought down by falling degree.You move as fast as your feet would carry - quickly grabbing everything that wasn't nailed to the floor and small enough to not weigh you down. Jars. Tools. Bottles. Anything to help you restart elsewhere, and remind you what you once had - no matter how much it hurts. 

Stuffing towels and broken dreams into your bag, the growing strain on your shoulder tells you enough is enough. Only one more thing left to grab. Your legs wobble as you approach the counter. Rubble and ash fall around you as you reach out. It's still open to that page. There's dough and flour beneath your nails - same as when you were kids just playing around in the kitchen. You swore they loved those cookies more than your friendship. Still you made them every year-

The batch of freshly made treats sits right beside it - packed away in that star shaped tent saved just for their special day. You were just about to make the frosting when they came. When the news was broken to you in the most ways. You barely had the chance to process it all before they started pointing fingers. All the ingredients are right there. All the memories. All the pain. You realize now there is no escape from this - not here. 

You pick a cookie from the tent - your entire world crumbling around you as you raise your hand to your mouth. Flames lick the ceiling as you take a bite.

Please… take me far away from here. 

A loud snap re-alerts you to your surroundings. A small groan is all that warns of what to come. All at once, the floor beneath you caves in. Feeling the ground disappear from under your feet, your arms instinctively reach for the book on the counter as you plummet. Falling with increasing speed, you clutch the book to your chest as the world above is swallowed by the darkness blanketing your weightless body - a silent scream cast into the void. Smoldering wood joins you as the ceiling to your baker and home finally collapses under the pressure. The last thing you see before your body hits solid ground is the same starless night you've fallen asleep beneath your whole life. .

.

.

"Mmm, so good. These are your best yet!"

"That's what you always say-"

"Because your treats just keep getting better and better. You're amazing, Sweets!" 

"You know, I never figured out why you call me that."

"Isn't it obvious? You make the best desserts in the whole world! Way better than mama's - I swear it's like she mixed up the sugar jar with the salt one." 

"Haha, I guess that makes a little sense-" 

"But - there is one other reason… " 

"What is it?"

"I think that's pretty obvious too…You're the sweetest person I've ever met."

 .

.

.

"Mm…. Ngh…"

Your head feels like it's split in two. You can't move - every limb stiff as stone. Darkness still surrounds you. Even breathing is a labored task that siphons all your strength for a single breath. Breathing…

You open your eyes - clamping them almost immediately as bright light beads down into them - assaulting your shot sense with its rays.

"Ach.." Steadying the air flow through your chest, you wiggle your fingers and toes - channeling circulation to the rest of your extremities as your heels and fingertips dig at soft earth. Rolling onto your side, you push yourself off the ground and upright; the weight of your satchel hindering your movement. You blink a few times to let your eyes adjust to the environment, rubbing at the sore joints in your neck. 

"What… happened?"

As soon as the words leave your mouth it all rushed back to you. The fire. The fall. Your eyes dart around, perplexed by the lack of ash and dirt walls around you. Grass scratches your bare legs as you pull them to your chest. The sun's harsh rays beat down on you from above. Tree leaves rustle in the strangely syrupy scented wind. Footsteps imprint in the soft earth - trailing away from where you lie. Did… someone save you? Something feels off. You draw a hand to your face; the freedom of your arms alerting your senses to a troubling particument - more troubling than the one you've found yourself in now. 

Your book. Where is it?

Where is it. Where is it. 

The strength in your limbs replenishes at such speeds it gives you a headrush as you spring to your knees. You sweep your hands across the dirt floor around you, searching the barren land around you before you lose your mind wandering through the forest. Dirt catches beneath your nails as they scratch at the soft earth. The texture of the soil - it doesn't feel right. It squishes between your fingers, rich and moist like it is after fresh rainfall, but there hasn't been rain in weeks nor does the scent of rain linger in the air. All that resides is that sweet stench. A whiff of cocoa passes in the gentle breeze as you wipe sweat from your forehead. 

Your legs fold beneath you like a stack of cards as you attempt to stand. Using a nearby tree as a crutch, you pull yourself to your feet - stumbling on wobbling knees and driving your shoulder into the bark of the tree as you fall against it. A nut wrestles free of its branch from the force and lands directly on your head.

"Ouch!" You rub the sore spot of your skull, looking down and drawing your foot to vent your frustration on the pour seedling-

"Huh?" 

You plant both feet steady on the ground. Where what should have been a seed sits a bright red candy wrapper nestled safely in the grass. Curious, you pick it up- inspecting the foil casing. There's nothing of note besides a star pattern printed right where the seams meet. You wedge your nail beneath the fold, peeling back the wrapper to reveal a piece of candy with a similar crimson color to its outer layer. It fits between your fingers no bigger than a small apple. Drool dampens your lips as your image shines in its reflection. You hadn't had a single thing to eat since breakfast and even then you only ate enough to last you for the period rather than the long day of work ahead of you. Popping the candy into your mouth, you bite down without a second thought. 

Solid and firm on the outside, the candy bursts like the gooey filling of warm pie filling under the pressure of your teeth. Nutmeg and cinnamon overwrite your senses of taste and smell, followed swiftly by the taste of baked apple coated in a sugary glaze. It's been a while since someone has asked you to make an apple pie. For a moment, you think of making one when you return home before it hits you have no home to go back to. You're not even sure where it once stood. It's clear by now you are not where home used to be. Then where are you?

Snap!

Collecting - a twig snaps somewhere off behind you. You turn your head in the direction of the sound. "Hello?"

No one answers your call. Without making a sound, a figure steps out into the tree lining. Lanky and bent at an odd angle; standing just enough into the shade and bushes all you could see was below their chin. Their skin is an odd shade of pink; likeness akin to freshly chewed bubblegum. Couldn't be a sunburn, but you chalk it up to be a trick of the sun. A bright red bow wraps tightly around their neck, poking out from the collar of the puffy sleeve white shirt they wore beneath a striped, chestnut colored vest. 

"Hello….." 

Their voice was low in pitch and wet - revoltingly sweet and syrupy thick just like the air; almost drowning in their chest as they spoke.You swallow your nerves as you pose your dry lips to speak. "Excuse me, but I think I'm lost…. Have… have you seen a book anywhere?"

The figure tilts their head, twin, bright pink pig tails dangling from the sides of their head - drooping over their shoulders like melting wax. Even the angle of their neck is off. How can it bend at that sharply?

"Would you…. like some taffy?" 

You quickly toss the half-eaten fruit in your age as you take a step back. "I think sugar is the last thing I need right now-"

The figure stills for a moment - calculating their next words carefully. 

"Would you… like some taffy?~" 

A tiny giggle erupts from their chest. "No, I already said that. Look, I really need to-"

"Are you looking for this?..." 

The stranger pulls a rectangular item from the bushes - aged leather cover barely intact with its spine. You notice that two fingers on their left hand appear to be stuck together, pinky finger nowhere to be seen. Cautiously, you take a step forward, extending a hand. 

"Yes… That's exactly what I'm looking for..  May I please have it?

"I'll give it to you if you do something for me…"

"Please, it's very important."

"It's been so long since I've had company�� it won't take too much off your time"

You chew at your lips. "What do you need me to do?"

"Come closer…I just want to get a good look at you. You're so pretty from afar"

You take a step forward. Just grab the book and run.

"Closer…"

Another. 

"closer." 

You stand right in front of them. You make a grab for your book, but their reflexes are quicker. The figure grabs you, locking you to their chest in an iron tight grip. Their head rests on your shoulder as they stroke their longer fingers down the length of your back - humming with a softness foreign to their tone before then. You bring your arms up to hug them back. It's then, at a close proximity, you're able to see the large chunk of flesh ripped from their neck.

"Thank you…." 

Thin digits run up your arm and face, stroking the line of your bottom lip as they giggle softly. You cringe as a hand latches onto your chin - prying your mouth open.

"Now, eat up~"

Before you have time to react, the creature shoves two of its fingers into your mouth - palm slamming into your chin and locking your jaws around their skin. Opening your eyes, you're met with the swirling insanity of their orbs as your teeth sink into their flesh. Spiraling red and white irises like the swirls in peppermint candies. Their lips seem to almost be melting together - a small hole torn through the outer wall of their left cheek. Crimson blush paints their cheeks - an impossible wide smile reveals cherry red teeth.

You squirm and struggle with all your might - attempting to wrestle yourself from their grip, but their hold is too strong. Their skin melting against the heat of yours makes escape all the more distant. Your teeth slice through the meat of their fingers like hot butter as you're forced to bite down. Their skin doesn't break like normal flesh. Queasiness hits your stomach like a rock as they're completely severed from seemingly non-existent bone. Even worse, you feel the severed digits inch their way towards the back of your throat. Tears prick your eyes as their flesh sticks to your teeth. You try to scrap it off with your tongue, only smearing it into your gums and against the roof of your mouth. Expecting the copper taste of blood - the flavor that bursts on your taste buds unlocks a core memory in your mind from your childhood. 

It's taffy. 

Cherry taffy.

You'd recognize that chewy taste and texture anywhere. The fiend notices the flicker of familiarity in your eyes as your muscles temporarily ease from the confusion. Their bizarre smile stretches as you chew at their flesh almost by reflex - swallowing them near whole. More fits of laughter bubble from their throat as a bubbling warm settles in your chest, spreading throughout.

"Tastes good, doesn't it? I knew you would like me once I saw that page in your book. Humans like candy after all..."

Your limbs lock up as they had when you woke as that warmth spreads throughout your body, creeping back up your throat and out your mouth in a tiny hiccup of laughter that has the taffy creature grinning from ear to ear. Your heart hammers against the shaking cage of your chest - laughter echoing from every corner of the forest. It's soon you realize the laughter is your own coupled with the fiend's cackling shrieks and the far off rattles of the trees.

"Your voice is so pretty… I like you..  I like you!.. Hey, you'll eat more of me, right? Candy is supposed to be eaten by humans. Are you listening?" 

You try - but everything that comes out of their mouth is so funny you can't hear a thing over your laughter.  What's happening? Lost in the swirling spirals of their eyes, the rawness of your throat barely registers in your weary mind as giggles are yanked and pulled from you. The convulsions in your stomach built into a deep ache in your abdomen. The tears in your lashes pour down your face - caught by a sticky tongue that leaves a trail of pink slick up your cheek. 

"Oh!- Giving me a treat? You're too kind… please don't cry… I'll let you rest for now. I'd hate for you to get sick… see you soon…." 

Your body falls back to that weightless, floating state. You can't tell if you're standing, fallen over, or something else entirely. The trees close around you - snuffing what little air passes through your chest. Your jaws hang slack as a hand reaches out from the horde. Your lips close around fluffy air as your vision fades to black out once more. 

.

.

.

"Ta-da!"

Fire snaps and pops within the confines of a handmade pit. In the flames, you see the two of you as children - piling books on top of chairs to steal the matchbox their parents hid in a cabinet too tall for either of you to reach. Where you excelled beyond your years elsewhere, they had always been a master at building the perfect campfire among other things. They were so proud of their skills. Crickets chirp and stars twinkle brilliantly in the pale blue night sky…

Stars?...

"One S'more hot off the stick - courtesy of your bestest friend in the whole wild world."

They take a bite out of theirs, gooey marshmallow fluff oozing from the crackers. They sport a toothy smile, burnt fluff sticking to their lips and teeth. They chipped a front tooth on a jawbreaker right after it had grown in when you were little - yet their smile is without imperfection. They lost the roundness in their face and shape the person next to you has as their condition got worse. While their body failed, their hair and skin never got that pale either - nor did they have horns. Short, stubby little horns peeking from fluffy white tufts of hair framing their chubby, freckled cheeks. It's not them, but at the same time your mind clicks the familiar pieces of a night similar to this and for you that's all it takes. The heat of the fire kisses away your tears. 

A bright blue blanket keeps you joined at the shoulder with them. Tiny yellow dots mirror the shining stars hanging over you. 

"Mmm… s'mores are so good… Hm? What's wrong? We can't all be talented bakers, I'm trying my best here. You look like you've seen a ghost!" 

Tightness grips at your chest. Despite their appearance, it's still their voice if not a bit softer than you recall. "Addie…. You…." 

Their smile falls - sad, tired eyes drooping behind heavy lids. Their voice mellows into a tranquil whisper of what it once was. If it weren't for the stress and the fact you were already dreaming you might've drifted off to sleep as they spoke. "I know…. I just wanted you to have a good dream… I like this place, but you shouldn't be here right now. Maybe someday in the near future you can show it to me again and we can talk more about this.. Addie person."  

"Who are you?"

"I'll tell you when we meet in person. Can you do me a favor when we do? I think my blanket fell off me, but I had such a nice time here with you I don't think I'll wake up anytime soon.. I'm a little cold now, so can you please tuck me back in?" 

"I'll… see what I can do."

"Thank you. I hope we can become closer the more we see each other. It's nice to have someone to dream with. You really should wake up soon…" 

Their fingers intertwine with yours, placing the S'more in your open palm.

"But it doesn't hurt to dream just a little longer." 

You take a bite. Charred fluff explodes from between the crackers and onto your tongue. You always had to stop them from turning your marshmallows to near ash as they preferred theirs. You chew slower to savor the taste as their head rests on your arm. You close your eyes - letting everything melt in.

The taste of burnt marshmallow. 

The chilly night air.

Them.

You chew and chew - opening your eyes to find yourself right back where you once were. Stickiness clings to your lips. They feel a bit chalky too. You scrap it off with your nails, wiping marshmallow fluff onto your stained apron. 

Your book sits a few inches in front of you in the dirt. You pick it up and inspect it from to back, checking each page to make sure everything is still there. There are pink fingerprints on a page detailing a recipe for hand pulled taffy. They curve into the arches of a heart at the bottom of the paper.

Riiing. 

Riiing. 

Somewhere off in the distance - a bell chimes. The instrument falls from the wielder's hand to their hip as they watch you. The bill of what looks to be a mailman's cap blocks you from direct eye contact or even a glimpse at their face. A satchel of better quality than yours hangs at their side - what looks to be a chalkboard dangling from their neck. 

After the last encounter, you're hesitant to speak to anyone you meet in this place, but you have no choice. "H…hello?

Same as with the other once, there's no response at first. The figure takes hold of the board around their neck, dragging their fingers along its surface. They turn the board to you - an arrow pointing to their left. As if to further get their point across, they raise a hand in the same direction. Each of their fingers appears to be a different color. Yellow. Pink. Blue. Green. Orange. They tip their hat at you before spinning on their heels and heading the opposite way.

"Wait!" You toss your book into your bag as you stand - giving chase as they dart around a tree. Wind nips at your exposed flesh as you sprint after them. By the time you reach where they once stood they're already leagues ahead of you. Sharp turns drive a deeper wedge in your distance from them. The faint jingle of their bell grows further and further away the closer you get - your voice drowning out its final chime. 

"Please - wait! I don't know where I am. I just want to go home. Where are you trying to send me? Please, I need your - wahh!"

Eyes straight ahead, you completely overlook the obstacle in your path until it sweeps the air from beneath you. You fall forward as your ankle connects with something hard jutting out of the earth. You throw your arms out to cushion your landing as your body is cruelly shoved into the dirt by gravity. 

"Ow…." Flipping yourself over, you lift up your apron to check the damage to your stinging right leg. The pants leg itself is torn, but your leg looks to be relatively okay besides the start of a bruise. Looking closer - green spots stain the fabric of your slacks around the mouth of the tear in them.  You glance over at the cause of your tumble - blood chilling in your veins. 

Sprawled across the forest floor was an entire human skeleton encased in some greenish, gel-like mass. Its hollow eye sockets gaze apathetically at nothing; arms curled to its chest. They stare straight through you and your shivering self feet away. The sludge that surrounds it almost fits perfectly to its thin frame, but there are some outliers in its shape. Two circular mounts sit atop its head like the ears of some animal. The gel bunches around their arms and neck like the sleeves and hood of a jacket. It seems to mimic both skin and clothing. You swallow the scream in your throat and use the energy to kick yourself off the ground as you flee - stopping dead in your tracks as a tiny voice calls out.

"Please don't go…." 

A tiny sniffle sounds from the body behind you. Its chest rises and falls slowly as its head tilts up to look at you. You freeze - stiff as a board. 

"I'm… not going to hurt you if that's what you're afraid of. I can't do anything really right now. I can't move.. It's getting darker… I just want to go home…" 

Their words strike a chord with you. Against every muscle screaming otherwise, you turn to face them again. "What… are you?"

"My name is Gumi… I'm a boy - if you were wondering. Like most of the things you've probably seen by now, I'm made out of candy. Could you please just stay here until my sister comes? She can help fix me and we can take you back to town. The forest is pretty large though, and I can't remember where I am so I don't know how long it will take her to find us." 

"Gumi…. I'm sorry, you have to understand how crazy this is for me… Let me help you sit up." You walk over to the candy body - scooping your arms beneath his and dragging him over to a nearby rock. Your fingers sink into his squishy flesh as you help him sit upright. Despite being made of sweets, he definitely had the weight of a human being. It's hard for him to sit up all the way - possibly due to the empty space in his abdomen leaving little support for his gummy flesh. There's a red misshapen mark in his chest where a heart would be, the organ obscured by the walls of candy around it.

"Thank you… What's your name?"

You glance at the ground. "Just… call me Sweets."

"Sweets…." Gumi parrots, "That's a nice name.."

"What happened to you?"

Gumi weakly pulls his arms tighter to his chest. "My spine… was taken. There's someone like me out here - a candy person, I mean. Their body can't hold a solid form, so they steal from other people in exchange for things to eat to keep it." 

You place your bag on the ground, kneeling as you search through it. All of this is giving you a headache, but you can't just leave him out here after being stuck for so long. "What do they normally eat?"

"Anything that will help them, really. Sugar, syrup, jam- but there's been talk of them drinking hu-"

Jam. Thank heavens you switched to plastic jars as soon as you were able to get your hands on some. "I have something I can trade. Can you tell me which direction they're in?" 

"W-what?!" Gumi's soft body tenses - falling forward into your arms. "No, it's too dangerous! I don't want anyone to get hurt because of me! Especially not someone who's been nice to me so far…." 

You place a hand on his back, guiding him back against the stone. "Like you said, it's getting darker and we don't know when your sister will find you. I'm sure we can come to an agreement with them. Not to brag, but I'm kind of the best - and only baker in my hometown."

"I…but-..." Gumi trips over his words- searching for a rebuttal, but finding nothing. He sighs. "Okay…. But take my head with you. If anything happens I can distract them long enough for you to get away…"

"Won't that..hurt?.." 

"No…. I'm sitting here without a spine, aren't I? It is pretty gross in my opinion, but my bones can be pulled apart and snapped back together easy. Watch." Gumi places both hands on the sides of his skull, twisting his head and the bones attaching it to his shoulder until it's loose enough to pop right off. His headless body passes his head off to you as it smiles meekly. 

"Creep… I know."

You gently take his head from his hands. "After the day I've had, I'd hardly consider this the worst part. If you ask me, I think it's kind of cool."

"C…cool?" Red bleeds from the center of his face all the way to the ears atop his head.

"Are you okay?" 

"Y-yeah… Nobody, besides my sister and a few others, have ever been this kind to me… The cave they live in is that way."

His body points in the same direction his eyes do. You move his head into one arm as you reach into your satchel. You pull out your book and tuck wit beneath your other arm as you remove your apron. You stuff it into your bag and place his head instead. 

"Is this comfortable for you? I'd hate to trip over something else and accidentally drop you.."

"Yes, but - could you please carry me in your arms. I-if I'm not too heavy of course. Humans have soft skin…. Was that weird to say?"

"I don't think so. I'll gladly carry you, but we should get going now. Can your body watch my book for me until we get back? It's important to me and I'd hate for it to get more damaged than it already is. It's pretty old considering it's a family heirloom" 

His voice softens. "You really trust me with something that special to you?..." 

You smile. "You haven't given me a reason not to." 

"okay…. O-Okay! I'll guard it with my life then." He holds out his hands and you set the book in them - leaving it in his possession. His body hugs it to his chest, waving as you and his head walk off.

-

Walking towards the cave, the silence gets to you before long. "So… you have a sister?"

Gumi looks up at you from the corners of his sockets. "Yeah… a little sister - we think. Her name is Lollie. We aren't actually related, but it's nice to have that bond. She has a bit of a temper, but she sticks up for me and I try to keep her out of trouble."

"That's so sweet… Can you tell me a bit about the town you guys live in?"

"There's not much to say about it..  It's all we've really ever known after watching up one day and finding each other before being picked up by the others. Chip repairs us the best he can when any of us breaks. Kreme makes clothes for those who wear them and made me and Lollie matching bracelets for our birthday. Valentine makes deliveries to everyone and collects things we need from the forest. There are others in town, but a few I don't see often and the rest are… not the kindest"

"Deliveries… I saw someone with a bell and a carrier satchel earlier. Could that be them?"

"Probably… Val can't speak so they carry a bell and their chalk board to communicate with people… We're here…" 

Leaves crunch beneath your feet as you stop before the gaping mouth of a cave. The dampness of the opening rolls off in waves, fanning your face like a dying breath. You catch the scent of artificial strawberries as you readjust Gumi in your arms.

"Well… no time like the present." Breathing in, you take your first step inside the cave. Your steps echo down the narrow passageway as you traverse deeper into the hollow den. Darkness envelops you, but it no longer holds control over you with company - sparkling stalagmites soon brightening the dim path. You chip off a piece of the jagged crystals as you pass by and stick your tongue against the flat surface. Rock candy- grape flavor to be exact. 

The tight walls of the cave open into a room fully illuminated by glowing rock candy. A pool of crimson awaits in the room's center - a deep chuckle bubbling from its murky depths.

"Well, well - you sure took your time, but since you've brought a new face I'll let it slide this time." 

Gumi shakes in your arms. Feeling your hold strength, he swallows his nerves as he speaks. "M, please give back my spine. We'd like to make a trade with you."

"Yes, yes - we've played this little game many times before with that sister of yours.. Allow me to slip into something more… comfortable." 

A hand shoots out from the pool, smacking down on the stone floor with a wet crack. Along with the hands forms an arm - weaving into shape by use of the syrupy fluid it bathes the. It drags itself from the vicious sea of red - pulling the tides along with it. A lower half of a head emerges from the pit, waters depleting as its torso and left arm take shape. You watch as the fluids snake around the stolen spine as the empty space of their chest closes to form mostly smooth skin. Their flesh drips and hangs at their fingertips, right shoulder hanging lower than the left as they crawl their way out and stand up right. Their head finally morphs to shape to the best of its capabilities with what little fluid it has left to work with - the entire left half of their face from eye to jaw missing. 

"That's… a little better. Excuse me for taking so much of your time, but I am almost ready."

There's a slight limp in their stride as they saunter  over behind a curtain of sharp rocks. The slip of fabric meets your ears as they hum to themselves - image reflected on the wall behind them. You see as they slide an arm through the sleeves of a shirt, buttoning it up to the second to last collar. They place a cap atop their head as they step back out to greet you -heeling clicking sharply against the hard floor. 

The figure wears what was once a white nursing coat and hat. Red hand prints dart the entire length of the garb down to where it hangs just above their knee. It rises to mid-thigh with every step they take. They pin a name tag to their chest as they stand before you - red blocking out every letter of the name that was once there besides one.

M. 

M sighs. "Ha… Much better. I do pray my appearance doesn't alarm you much, but considering you are carrying the head of this whiny little creature I'm sure my looks hardly bother you. Maybe..  interesting you perhaps, hm?"

You nervously chuckle. "About the trade…." 

They clap their hands together. "Ah yes- It is one I am quite excited for. It's been so long since I've had a nice cup of red wine. I'll be needing a sample to decide how much of you is worth trading the only useful part that boy in your arms has." 

"I… have something else in mind." Reaching into your bad, you pull out a freshly made jar of jam made the night before in preparation for a cake someone had ordered. You shake the jar lightly. "Do you take raspberry?

M folds their arms over their chest. "I guess we'll just have to see." They snatch the jar from you and twist off its lid, inserting their index finger inside. They spread the jam over their middle finger and thumb - eyeing it closely as they shove their fingers past their lips.

"Hm…."

They take another taste.

"Mmm…."

And another - this time dipping their entire palm into the jar and shoveling the jam into their mouth.

"This…  is good…I've never had anything this good in ages." M sucks the jam from each finger before pointing at you. "You! - Tell me you have more of this…. Heavenly concoction."

"I don't… but if you promise to give Gumi's spine back and never take it from him again then maybe I'll find a way to make more for you before I leave." 

"Deal!" M takes one of your hands and shakes it vigorously as confirmation of your contract. They reach into their chest, ripping out Gumi's spine and passing it off to you. Once their deed is done, they pour what remains of the jam down their throat - tapping the bottom of the jar and licking its walls to get every drop. The left half of their face fills out as they chew; straight locks of hair flowing from beneath their cap and stopping at their neck.

"I await our next encounter, my dear. As a token of my appreciation, you may come back even without your delicious jams as it does get rather lonely all the way out here by myself. I'd like to keep this container as a reminder of our first meeting. Until we see each other again, my sweet little friend. Thank you for the meal - and dessert.

M sweeps a finger across your cheek, catching the drying blood from a cut you must've gotten from one of your many falls. It's a surprise that it and the bruise on your leg is all the damage you've gotten so far. They place their thumb into their mouth with a small hum of satisfaction - winking as they turn away.

"Come by soon~"

You walk out of the cave with Gumi's spine and head in hand. "That was…interesting.."

"I'm just glad neither of us got hurt.. Let's get back to my body before… oh… oh no….. no no no no. 

Your emotions conflict between confusion and terror - an imperfect balance of the two. "What? What's wrong?"

"We have to get back - now."

Racing through the trees, the commotion sounds before you even see it.

"Come on, lemme read it - Lemme read it! Is it your journal? Your diary? I wanna see, I wanna see!"

Gumi's headless body narrowly avoids the swing of a sledgehammer wielded by a girl nearly two size smaller than the weapon she holds. As she throws it back over her shoulder, the hammer end of the tool is revealed to be a giant, lollipop the same glossy pink as her skin. She chases after Gumi's body as it attempts to crawl away - skipping after him as if playing a leisurely game of tag. As she makes another grab for your book - Gumi shouts.

"Lollie! Cut it out! The book isn't mine! It belongs to Sweets!" 

The girl snaps her head in your direction - stomping her feet excitedly in place before sprinting straight at you. 

"Gummy-worm!"

Lollie plucks her brother's head from your grasp, spinning in circles as she giggles. She hugs him close, pressing her hard cheek against his. "Where have you been?! I've been looking for you all over and here you are with some human. Don't think I won't tell Jaws about you hanging out with fleshies again. She's still pretty pissed about what the last one did to her, y'know."

Gumi groans, his body dragging itself across the ground to return your book to you. You take a knee as you take it from him - patting his arm as a token of your gratitude. "Please don't call me that in front of them.. They're nothing like the last one, or any of the humans that we've met recently." 

"I would find that hard to believe…. If they weren't holding your spine. If Bloody steals your parts one more time I'm gonna-" She exhales. "Well, you know what I'll do." She faces you. "HI. I'm Lollie, Gumi's sister, but I'm sure he's already told you all about me."

You nod. "He's told me a few things. You can call me Sweets."

"Sweets… Cute~ Normally I'd chase you all the way to the ocean, buuuut since you help my brother and you have a cute name I'll help you out as well. Let's get Wormy here back in one piece and we'll take you back to town."

With Lollie's aid, you reattach Gumi's head and arm. Standing on his feet, the boy sheepishly rubs at his arm. "Can… Can I hug you? It felt nice to be held by you…" 

"Of course." Pulling him in, the two of you share a brief hug before you're ripped away by Lollie who holds onto your hand tightly. Gumi could've gone another hour in your arms. He accepts his loss and takes your other hand as Lollie attempts to drag you both along.

"Come on, come on - we gotta get there before everyone turns in for the night!" 

Together, the twins guide you through the forest back to their home. Walking with them, you finally take pause to look at the world around you. With everything going on, you never stopped to notice it all. Cotton candy bushes. Lollipop flowers. The bark of the trees surrounding you reveal themselves to be made of some mass of woven candy strings. The soft earth beneath you becomes solid as you step down on hard, stone bricks. 

Gumi speaks up. "Do you think anyone is around? 

Bright lights and friendly chatter answers his questions for you all. A small crowd of people stand at the entrance of the town - conversing amongst each other as one, familiar face scouts out the brick road. They grab the bell from their belt, giving it a hard shake. 

As you approach, a lone figure departs from the pack. They wear a burgundy apron, longer than your own as it drapes at their ankles, and carry with them a wooden blood. Their skin and braided hair remind you of unbaked dough - large, brown spots sprinkled through their person. 

"Welcome home, you two. And to your new friend. My name is Chip, and it is a pleasure to meet you. You must be hungry after your journey. If we had more time to prepare, I would've made more, but I hope you enjoy stew."

As he holds out the bowl, the mail carrier creeps up from behind. A red heart marks the entirety of their face. They flip their board around for you to see as they cock their head to one side. 

"Welcome. :) (sorry for running off earlier.)" 

Lollie huffs. "Dang it, Val - you ruined our big surprise."

You smile faintly. "It's alright. My name is Sweets and while I appreciate the gesture, I think I've had enough candy for one day, Chip." 

Chip pushes the bowl into your hands. "Just take one bite - if you would be so kind."

Unable to refuse, you bring the bowl up to your lips - sampling the broth. Where you expect to be met with soda or some other sugary drink is instead the hearty taste of root vegetables and spices. Whatever your stance on vegetables was as a child meant nothing now. You open your mouth wider to allow the potatoes and carrots through, broth dripping from the corners of your lips as you greedily inhale the stew. You turn away to wipe your face as the filling meal settles in your stomach.

"Thank you… That was…."

"Real vegetables?"

"That… but also good. How do you-"

Chip laughs. "We have the means to grow foods fit for your kind here as well. Can't make a cake without milk and eggs, can you? We're able to grow normal fruits from the trees you've seen outside, but livestock are a little hard to come by. Had I known of your arrival I would've prepared one of the chickens or cows I tend to for you."

"This is more than enough. Thank you, again."

Wheels clack over the stone pathway as another town's person rushes forward - picking at your tattered and burned clothing as they skate around you. You catch glimpses of what look to be two donuts sprouting from the sides of their head like puffy, hair buns - decorated in blue icing and rainbow sprinkles. The large hole in their stomach peaks from beneath their crop top. They pull to a stop in front of you, hands placed to their hips as they look at all the stains on your apron. 

"Whoa! Your clothes are all burnt and torn up! Dirty too… I think I have some clothes in storage that'll fit you until I get the chance to patch them for you. My name is Kreme. Come by soon, kay?"

"Oh, um… okay!"

Kreme bows before zooming off down the empty streets presumably back to their place of work. The next to approach you wears fishnet leggings and a red bomber jacket. Wispy locks of bubble gum pink hair mask his eyes. His skin teeters on off white, but still holds that faint pink glow freshly chewed gum has. There are tiny bites taken out from his arms and hands. By the slight movement of his jaw something tells you those wounds may be self-inflicted. 

They bowl a bubble, popping it with their teeth. "Marina. Things can get pretty hectic around here. Ever need to relax, I could let you pass with a bite or two."

You raise your hands, doing your best to keep your smile from breaking. "I think I'm good."

"Your loss." Marina shrugs, spitting out the piece of himself and taking a fresh bite from his arm as he walks off.

"This is ridiculous..' 

The figure standing over by the welcoming sign finally speaks out. A sour candy belt wraps around their neck and head like a scarf. "LockJaw's never gonna allow another human to live here after what the last one did. We shouldn't even let them in the first place." 

Lollie blows a raspberry at them. "Malick, don't be such an ass. LockJaw may watch over us, but she isn't our boss." 

"Where is Lock by the way?"

Thud.

The ground quakes beneath you as a body crumples to it behind you. Cracks splinter the road around them - your teeth chattering from the heavy force of their landing. Spots of red, yellow, and blue pepper their paper white skin. Their right arm falls at your feet - detached from their body. A good portion of their torso is missing as well; both injuries revealing the layers of color overlapping like the rings of a chopped tree to make up the inner works of their body. You don't remember who's the first, but soon enough they all flock around them. Gumi shakes them roughly. 

"LockJaw? Lockjaw! What happened? C-can you hear us?" 

The body twitches - the fingers of their missing arm moving sporadically. 

Chip takes a knee beside him and gently pulls his hands off of her. "She'll be fine. We need to get her inside so I check her wounds. Sweets, I hate for this to be your first experience with us, but could you please grab LockJaw's arm and follow us? She is quite heavy compared to the rest of us, so we need all the hands we can get."

Nodding, you pick up LockJaw's arms as the others pick her up off the ground. Her face is a mostly smooth surface. No eyes, nose, or even lips - until her face is fully lifted off the ground. An eyes rolls sluggishly in its socket from the crater in the left side of her face - rainbow teeth clenched so tight you're afraid they might break as her eye falls on you.

"Human…. Leave." 

Chip throws her arm over his shoulder.  "Now isn't the time for that. Follow us, please." 

With Lollie holding her right side, Gumi and Marina supporting her from behind, and Malick behind them for extra support - you trail behind them as they all carry LockJaw into the nearest home which appears to be Chip's if the sign out front is anything to go by. They all lower her to the ground, stepping back as Chip inspects the brunt of her damages. Her single eye remains on you - unblinking. His lips press into a thin line as his expression darkens.

"I'm… afraid there isn't much I can do for her… Bandages won't fix injuries this severe… I'm sorry, Lock..."

"What?" Lollie shrieks. "There has to be something we can do!"

Her hand balls into a fist against your chest. You look around you, racking your brain for a solution. LockJaw… Jaws.. "Chip, do you have a stove, pot, water, and sugar? Maybe a rolling pin as well?" 

"Yes. Yes, I have all of those things. This way." Chip leads you into his kitchen. Grabbing a pot from the cupboard, he places it on the stuff as he searches around for the remainder of the items you asked him for. Once obtained, you pour water and sugar into the pot - stirring the mixture together before lighting the flame. Sweat drips from your face as it soon begins to bubble. You quickly remove it from the eye and hurry back to where LockJaw lays - pouring it slowly over the gaping hole in her chest. You rave between the kitchen and living room - preparing more pots of boiling sugar you pour over her. As the wound fills out and matches level with the rest of her skin, you take the rolling pin and roll it over the cooling final layer - evening it to make. You dip her right arm and its stump in the next batch - attaching the two and keeping her arm in place until you're sure the makeshift glue holds. You get up to make another to work on her face - a hand grabbing the tails of your apron as you rise. Even she seems surprised by her movements as she pulls her hand away - flexing her fingers.

"No… you've done enough… ugh…."

LockJaw climbs to her cheek, standing a head taller than you. Her eye still lingers on you as she's hugged from behind by Lollie.

"Jaws! You're okay! Didn't you say it's best for us to stay in numbers? Why do you get to go off on your own?!"

LockJaw pushes the smaller girl away. "Don't touch me."

The strength and mobility of her right arm still throws her off as Chip rejoins you. "LockJaw, I see you are well. I'm glad. Considering your recovery is most in part thanks to our new friend here, it wouldn't be a crime to let them stay for a little while, would it?"

LockJaw looks away. She cannot close her eye so it's the best she can do. "For now. The minute they cause trouble I want them gone." The jawbreaker woman squeezes past Malick and Gumi, walking out of the open front door.

"Woo-hoo!" Lollie throws her arms around her, beckoning her brother to join as she hugs who tightly who sheepishly complies. "Looks like you'll be staying with us for a while. You'll bunk with me and Gumi, right? We can go on all sorts of adventures together and get to know each other better-"

Chip cuts into the conversation. "While that does sound lovely, we will talk about their permanent board in the morning. There are some things I'd like to discuss with them before the night is over. I think it's best if everyone returns home for now."

"Aw…." Lollie sulks, yet abides to Chip's order. She drags Gumi along with her who calls out as he's pulled along-

"Bye, Sweets! It was really nice to meet you! You'll visit me…. Us! In the morning, r-right?"

You call back. "As soon as I wake up you'll be the first I see!"

Chip waits for everyone else to leave before he speaks again. He walks over to the front door and shuts it, turning the lock. "Sweets… I must confess that I lied before. I have fixed LockJaw and others to the best of my power in the past, but I know your aid was the only way she'd allow you to stay. Valentine told me about some of the things they saw in the book you possess. You are a baker, if I'm not mistaken?" 

"Yes… My shop was burned down by people I once called family. I fell through the floor and woke up here. This cookbook is all I have now."

Chip nods. "I am sorry for prying. It's just that even I am unable to do what you have done."

"What do you mean?"

"My fixes are… cosmetic at best. Sometimes, functions fail to return if a limb or other part is completely severed, or recovery takes a long time. You were able to repair LockJaw's arm and mobility to it in record time. I am unsure what this means, but either way you are welcome to stay with us until you are able to find your way home… If you ever want to return after what happened."

His final sentence hits you like a weighted brick. What will you do when you return home? It's not like you can go back to the town. Your survival will only prove their claims, but even then it's all you've ever known. You gaze outside the window- stars shining in the pale moonlight.

"Stars…." The word slips from your lips before you realize. Your eyes light up - hand placed against the glass. 

Chip laughs. “You've spent the day in a world made of candy, and yet it seems this amazes you more. Have you never seen them before?” 

“No…Not anywhere besides picture books at least. When I was little I used to collect little scraps of dough left over and shape them into stars to pass out to other kids around town… We made up a little game that if you ate one and wished just like you would on a real star all your dreams would come true… I think…. They’re why I’m here now.“ 

They would have loved this - and probably everything else in this world. That reminds you.. "Chip? There's someone I need to see. They had fluffy hair and short horns and they were wrapped in a blue blanket if I remember correctly. Do you know someone with that description?"

"I suppose you've met our little dreamer. Come with me."

Chip leads you outside and to a house with baby blue walls and white frosting decorating its borders. A blue star is printed on the front door. Chip knocks twice before it opens for you. You both enter and he guides you to a bedroom with marshmallow pillows littering the floor and a canopy bed at its heart. The figure from your dreams lays on their side - blankets covering only half their body and hands holding a white index card and blue pencil. You take the card from them and read it to yourself. It reads the name-

"Marlow." 

You pick up the covers and pull them over their shoulders, tucking them beneath their chin. "Marlow, thank you for waking me up earlier. I'd like to dream with you now, if that's alright with you."

Deep asleep, their lips curl upwards as their body moves to make room for you. You look towards Chip who wishes you goodnight with another nod - shutting the door behind him. You climb into bed with Marlow, an arm falling over your chest as you stare out the window - falling asleep beneath a blanket of stars for the first time in all your life. 

[rogersideup]

Nice to be Kneaded

More fun stuff!

America’s Sweetheart

Can be read as a one shot, or in conjunction with Nice to be Kneaded.

Series Masterlist More Fun Stuff Masterlist

Nomad Steve x Baker reader

3,621 words

Reader finds a way to make Steve’s birthday special despite all odds

You sat cozy on your couch, relaxed as could be. A movie played quietly, your softest blanket was thrown over your lap, legs propped up on the coffee table, and your favorite fugitive next to you fought off sleep so hard he could barely even pay attention to the movie anymore.

It was one of those rare nights you decided to work from home to spare both you and Steve a night at the bakery. Sure, he could've found ingredients to organize and endlessly dust flour off of shelves, but it was important to you that he got relaxing nights with peace of mind, and no manual labor.

With your laptop open, your last task of the night was to look over the schedule and make sure everything was ready to go. Themed treats for upcoming holidays were thought of, time off requests were approved, supply deliveries were marked on time.

A date on the calendar caught your attention. The Fourth of July was quickly approaching, so you placed an order of red and blue sprinkles and some extra food coloring just to make sure you had enough to supply the small town with all of their themed treat needs. For such a quaint place, everyone around took the fourth very seriously.

Then faster than a bullet train, you nearly gasped as you got hit with the realization... Captain America's birthday is on the Fourth of July.

You looked over at your sleepy super soldier and couldn't help but to smile at his long hair flopping onto his face but being too tied to even fix it.

"Stevie" You quietly caught his attention, reaching over to rub his arm.

"Hmm?" He replied, turning his attention towards you.

"What do you want to do on your birthday?" You asked him while closing your laptop. If you had to choose between working another minute, or snuggling the sleepy hunk of a man next to you, you'd always choose the latter.

"My birthday?" Steve furrowed his eyebrows at your question, sounding genuinely confused. "Wasn't gonna celebrate it this year."

His eyes widened at your immediate pout to his statement, but his arms welcomed you and pulled you closer as your body cuddled up to his. He kissed your forehead as you settled in, but you looked up at his sweet face again. "There was only one wrong possible answer to that question, and it's the one you just gave me."

"Holidays are busy for you at work anyway, don't need to add anything else to that chaos." His beard tickled your neck as he shoved his chin onto your shoulder. "I didn't celebrate last year either. It's not that big of a deal."

"You didn't even tell me when your birthday was or that it was coming up." You pouted, sadness lacing into every work you spoke. "If the date wasn't so painfully obvious it would've passed by and I wouldn't have even known, and I feel like you did that on purpose."

"It's okay Sunflower," he mumbled before placing a kiss to your shoulder. "I don't really like my birthday, so I'd rather just skip it."

Your pout deepened even more at his statement. Of course circumstances aren't ideal, he was in hiding so there wasn't much you could even do with or even for him. He couldn't spend it with his friends or chosen family, and it's not like you could take him to a fancy dinner at a fine dining restaurant, but you knew in your heart you could still make the day special.

"Why don't you like it?" You questioned.

The sadness in your eyes was killing him slowly, and quickly melting away the walls around his heart. "I guess I liked it more when I was a kid, but as I've gotten older it's always gotten more complicated. There's always so much pressure surrounding one day of the year and I usually end up on some sort of parade float for the city anyways. It's not really my birthday anymore, I always just feel like a holiday novelty."

"That makes me so sad." You admitted before Steve kissed the pout right off your lips.

"Don't be sad, it's fine." He grabbed your blanket from the couch and pulled it right back over the two of you. "This year has been quite taxing, emotionally and physically so every day I get to spend like this with you feels like a gift. This is all I want."

"You're very stubborn." You noted, shaking your head. "Your mere existence is practically a miracle, and you don't think that's worth celebrating."

"I think you might be the only person who feels that way about me anymore." He mumbled.

That statement made your heartbreak, and caused a physical pain in your chest. You knew now that this was a sensitive subject, and you've probably pushed too far.

"You know damn well that's not true." You said seriously, looking right into his tired eyes. "And I'll prove it to you."

"That sounds a little more than mildly threatening." Steve grinned.

"Good, I'm glad. You should feel threatened." Your arms squeezed him tighter and you snuggled impossibly closer to him. "Because you're very special, and you deserve to feel that way."

"look who's the stubborn one now." Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Happily." You kissed him. "I'm taking advantage of the fact that you're too tired to even argue, but we can drop the subject because I want you to sleep well tonight."

"That's so sweet and so mean at the same time." Steve grinned.

"It comes from a place of good intentions." You clarified.

"I know it does, you have the biggest heart I've ever known." Steve agreed. "So if we must celebrate my birthday, this is all I want. If you happen to find some spare time on the fourth, I will happily spend it with you."

Finally, your pretty smile poked through. "I guess that's better than refusal."

"Shall we agree to disagree and call it a night?" Steve pitched, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"Only because I care about you so much." You laid your head right on his chest.

"No! Don't get cozy!" Steve sleepily giggled. "Let's go to bed."

"Fine, fine." You sat up and let out a yawn as he stood up from the couch and stretched.

He reached out his hand to you, seemingly offering to help you up. But the second you placed your hand in his, he hooked your arm around the back of his neck and picked you up like a groom would his bride.

Your laughter warmed his heart all the way up the stairs, then your arms held him appreciatively as he carefully set you down on your bed and got in next to you.

A few kisses and affirmations of nothing but the sweetest dreams to come was just about all the two of you had any energy for before falling asleep shortly after.

The next morning, Steve went off on his daily run and you headed off to work leaving your mind perfectly free to devise a plan to make his birthday as special as it could possibly be.

You knew he was a very chill guy. He did everything on the down low and never liked to bring too much attention to himself, even when he wasn't in hiding. So if there was one thing you knew for sure, especially after your conversation about it, your plans needed to be just as chill as he was.

You were so chill about it, in fact, time flew by without you even bringing his birthday up again. So as it approached, Steve nearly forgot about it.

The night of July 3rd, your plan started wonderfully. Though the two of you would usually watch a Pixar movie since Steve hadn't seen most of them, you were able to sway him towards the perfect Disney movie... Tangled.

You got him to watch the whole movie with you, and even managed to get both of you through it without either of you falling asleep before the ending.

Ever since you learned about Steve in history class as a teenager, you found his birthday to be rather interesting. The chances of a sickly little boy born on Independence Day growing up to be the face of the country's best fighter was probably less than one in a million.

Every year on his birthday, fireworks lit up the sky over the whole country, much like how every year on Rapunzle's birthday, the entire kingdom let go of lanterns to float in the sky in hopes of finding her.

Perhaps your parallels weren't enough for Steve, he didn't put two and two together. Or maybe he saw some connections but didn't say anything, but regardless, the context was bound to make your plans for his birthday even more special.

The worst part of the whole day was that Steve was correct, holidays at work were very busy so you couldn't take the whole day off to spend with him. But, you still made some arrangements to make his time away from you feel special.

You got up extra early, just about 3 in the morning, to sneak into his house to decorate his living room with balloons, and a cute happy birthday banner you strung across the mantle. Just to cover all your bases since you knew he wouldn't accept any real gifts, you also left him a card with a cute note written inside, all his favorite snacks, a new hat and a super cute hoodie, and a few chocolate chip cookies just for good measure.

A few kisses to his temple while he was asleep, tucking him in tighter before you left, then you were off to work. You pretty much helped customers all day long with the exception of making Steve a birthday cake and decorating a custom sugar cookie order.

When you got off work, you quickly ran home to shower and change into some comfortable clothes before making your way to Steve's house once more.

Using the side gate and entering the back door, you smiled at the sight of Steve walking towards you.

"Happy birthday, Stevie!" You smiled excitedly, happy to finally get to spend time with him.

"Thank you, pretty girl" Steve smiled right back and greeted you with a kiss before pointing at the cake box in your hands. "What's that?"

"Your cake, silly. What else would it be?" You questioned with a giggle and set the box down on the table.

"I have a bone to pick with you." Steve playfully scolded.

"Already?" You questioned. "We haven't even gotten to the fun part!"

"I told you I didn't want this to interfere with your already busy day, and I know you got up early, and I know that took time away from work." He said pointing to the cake box.

"Oh but you're just so cute I can't even help myself." You fake complained. "Plus we actually get to eat this so we both benefit."

"I'll let you get away with it this time, but this behavior is unacceptable." He continued joking, referencing everything you've already done for him.

"Well, don't speak too soon because I have to admit I'm a bit embarrassed about something."

Steve preemptively giggled at your admission as you started opening the top of the cake box. "What happened?"

"I realized while I was making this earlier that you never actually told me how old you are, so I had to secretly google you at work so nobody would know I was making you a cake. Then google was telling me all sorts of nonsense about how old you could be but I refuse to believe what it said, so I had to do math which is not my strong suit." You explained. "All of that is to say I committed, and it could be completely wrong."

He stood behind you with a hand on your lower back, peeking over your shoulder. Never expecting what was to come, he nearly choked on a knot in his throat and had to try really hard to not let tears well in his eyes when you showed him the cake you made.

It was small and round, his favorite color green, perfectly piped borders on the top and bottom, the perfect sprinkle mix, and it read 'Happy Birthday, Stevie!' With candles that said 33.

You looked back at his face to see if you got it right, but you were met with an expression you couldn't quite gauge. With an awkward giggle, you asked the dreaded question "Oh no, it's wrong huh? How old are you?"

"No, no, you got it right." Steve shook his head and finally got himself to smile and chuckle at his own reaction. He wrapped his arms about you from behind. "It's just- this is the first time I've ever had a cake that wasn't red white and blue. I really love it, it's so pretty. Thank you so much"

"What? That makes no sense. Your favorite color is green so why would you have a red white and blue cake?" You asked as if it was the easiest, most obvious choice.

You didn't even realize how much something so simple to you meant to him. He knew two things for sure right then and there, the first being that him being captain america meant so little to you that you couldn't even fathom why he hated his birthday so much, and the second being you were the only person since the 40's to make him feel like himself again. You didn't use his birthday as an opportunity to make jokes about how old he was or what had happened to him, and you put forth your best effort to separate it from the holiday. He was so sure this moment was when he was certain he wanted to marry you.

"You're too good to me" Steve shook his head before kissing the top of yours.

"Save it for later, we're just starting the celebration." You smiled, turning around to face him. There was no containing your chuckle as he kissed you yet again. "Would you like 33 kisses today?"

"That's not enough." Steve denied, the blush in his cheeks spreading to the tip of his nose. "Some would say I'm actually turning 99 today. I would like 100 kisses. One extra for good luck"

"Oh, so now you actually tell me what you want?" You smiled. "My lips might fall off but that's a price I'm willing to pay."

"Okay then we probably shouldn't test that theory." He regretfully let you go.

"Here's the deal Rogers, I’m about to kidnap you and take you on a little hike so I need you to put on some comfortable clothes and get your beautiful booty in my car.” You pointed your finger at him. “I don’t want to hear any complaints!”

“Yes ma’am” Steve agreed with a smile before turning around to walk up the stairs. “Beautiful booty…” he repeated your words to yourself.

“And don’t you forget it!” You called out to him.

While you waited for him, you put the cake in the fridge but eventually got him into the car. After a short drive through the town and a relatively short hike up a hill, you set up a picnic at the very tippy top.

Together you sat on a plush blanket and ate Steve’s current favorite food which was ever changing, watched the sunset, and chatted away while waiting for the main event to start.

The sun fully left for the night at around 8pm, leaving nothing but the stars above you and crickets chirping to mask the sound of silence. You did eventually turn on and tune the little radio you brought with you to the right station that will synchronize with the towns firework show.

With a few minutes to spare, you finally explained. “The sunset was lovely, but I have ulterior motives.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve’s lopsided smile poked through. “Do tell more.”

“I told you I was going to prove to you that you’re very special and everyone else still thinks so.” You pulled a pair of headphones out of your backpack. “I made you watch tangled for a reason.”

“What’s the reason?” He asked curiously.

“Every year on her birthday, rapunzel watches the lanterns from her bedroom window because she thinks they’re beautiful and helped her feel less trapped in the tower she was stuck in. She always felt like they were meant for her since they always happened on her birthday.” You explained. “I know being on the run also has you feeling quite stuck, but I think it’s beautiful that every year on your birthday the whole sky is filled with fireworks like they’re meant for you. This is the best view point from the whole town, but it’s always empty because nobody knows it’s here. I thought maybe we could watch them together, and maybe it’ll bring you some peace when you see how many really light up the sky. In the least creepy way possible, before I even knew you I always thought of you on this day and really took a moment to appreciate how your existence inadvertently affected my life and so many others. If thats just what little old me was thinking about, imagine how many millions of people are still out there thinking of you tonight”

Steve looked dumbfounded for a few moments even after you explained. You continued to blow him away, and never ceased to know exactly what he needed to hear in the hardest moments in this crazy newfound life as a nomad. He didn’t quite find the words to respond before you started talking again.

“I know that sometimes someone in your line of work can have a hard time with the sounds that come along with fireworks, so I brought you some noise canceling headphones just in case. Or we can always just head home if you don’t want to..” you became a bit unsure of your choice when you realized you could damn near send the man into a panic attack.

“No. No this is perfect.” Steve shook his head, swallowing the lump in his throat once more. He had no idea he could ever be loved this much, so much that you didn’t even have to say it with words for him to know it was true. “I don’t even know what to say. I think this is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.”

You smiled and snuggled up to his side. Tightly wrapping your arms around him, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“You don’t have to say anything at all.” You rested your head on his shoulder. “I think they’re going to start any minute now. Would you like the headphones?”

“I don’t need them when I have you to protect me.” He grinned and rested his head on top of yours.

Over the radio played an announcement that the display was now starting.

“Okay here’s the part where I prove to you that you’re still America’s sweetheart.” You told him. “If I remember correctly, every year the show starts with…”

Steve started laughing as Star Spangled Man started playing on the radio, and fireworks illuminated the sky. From up close and from a distance, the view was so good he could see them from neighboring towns miles and miles away.

“You know this song, right?” You asked Steve sarcastically. You knew damn well he had heard the song about him hundreds of times on his USO tour.

“No, I’ve never heard it before” he responded just as sarcastically.

“You know, if the hatred for you was actually as bad as it feels for you, they would’ve stopped using this song last year.” You explained. “But look, it’s still here and people still love it, and people still love you. Even in this teeny tiny town that doesn’t even know you’re living in it.”

Steve nodded in understanding and he choked back more tears. He wrapped his arms around you just as tightly as you held him, and for the remaining 25 minutes both of you were so mesmerized by the lit up sky no more words were spoken to each other until after the grand finale.

The very last firework in the sky fizzled away, and he finally found the words. “You were right.”

You smiled. “It wasn’t about me being right, I just wanted you to have a good day.”

“I’m not even exaggerating, but I think this might be the best birthday I’ve ever had.” He said genuinely. “Thank you, I don’t think you’ll ever know how much I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, sweet boy. Even if this is the only birthday of yours we get to spend together, I hope you know that every year when the fireworks go off, where ever we are in the world, I’ll always be thinking of you.” You kissed his lips.

“That might be even sweeter than the cake waiting for us at home.” Steve smiled, taking your words to heart.

“The only thing that’s between us and that cake is a hike down a hill.”

“In the complete dark.” Steve added. “Doesn’t that scare you?”

“Not when I have you to protect me.” You admitted, standing up to start the process of making your way back to the cake. Steve stood up, and under the moonlight he just looked to beautiful you couldn’t even resist giving him yet another hug.

He happily accepted, and rubbed your back in appreciation.

“Happy birthday, Steve.”

[chez-cinnamon]

Regarding the clothes ask what style of clothes would you think everyone would naturally lean towards?

I’ll probably get to sketching them at some point but:

- Pomni leans towards a mix of casual and elegant, depending on what the event of the day calls for; if it’s a more casual day like hanging out in the bedrooms or going out to the carnival or lake, she opts for vivid primary colours (with purple accents to represent Kinger lol), shirts/sweaters with big puffy sleeves, comfy pants and butterfly shaped ribbons. She also sometimes just wears her jester hat as if it were hair bc she thinks it’s funny sometimes. When the day calls for something more elegant and regal, she likes to wear smoking suits, lots of dark purple fabric to accent red, blue and white accessories or pants, hair often styled into braids or buns. She gravitates more to feminine suits than dresses. She also has a liking towards leotards due to how freeing movements are.

- Kinger and Queenie are more traditional with regal aesthetics. Kinger’s wardrobe is more samey with frilly boleros, elegant corsets and waistcoats, fancy tight pants that are still good enough to run around in, even some knight armour thrown in sometimes, all in different shades of purple. Queenie’s wardrobe is full of various elegant dresses and smoking suits, more modern and complementary to her figure, a lot of florals, tight around the legs, as well as leotards to match Pomni, all in red. They both share lots of golden accents and accessories, and they both have some more casual clothes and gardening attire.

- Caine’s wardrobe is always growing, as he’s starting to learn a more casual style. He loves his basic red and yellow ringmaster look and the variations he has, but he enjoys cozier clothes on slower days. He likes sweaters, sweater vests, dress shirts, cardigans and slippers, he loves feeling cozy!! But he shares similar tastes to Kinger as well.

- I HC Ragatha as being a farm girl before she got sucked into TADC, so a lot of her outfits are very inspired by cottagecore and farmer’s girl outfits: flowy dresses, summer hats, floral shirt tied up into a crop top, the whole nine yards. She likes a lot of her outfits in pastel blues, covered in patchwork of all sorts.

- Jax likes 2000s casual fashion and streetwear. Think the skater boy next door: dirty sneakers, graphic tee over a long sleeve white shirt, baggy pants with chains on, beanies and necklaces. He also likes a lot of hoodies and sweatpants, all in purples, pinks and yellows.

- Gangle gives off big ballet girl vibes with a mix of Japanese subcultures. Oversized shirts to wear as dresses, jackets that look way too big on her, outfits akin to ballet attire, lots of ribbons and pastels mixed with neon colours. I also HC Gangle as genderfluid, bc I love how masc she looked in the Japanese TADC cafe advert, so I can see her in blockier clothes like her attire from that ad but still retaining that ballet/kawaii vibe. Also a fun fact about GM!Gangle’s outfits is that a lot of them are long pieces of ribbon that can attach to the back of her mask and wrap around her to form a more solid body and outfits, but she still wears regular clothing bc it’s not really warm only wearing ribbons.

- Zooble is a HUGE fan of scenecore aesthetics, as well as emo culture and maximalist fashion. Like with their Zooble parts, anything can go; they like to layer clothes, clash patterns, customise their parts with mementos from adventures, create hair-like extensions to wear on their head. They don’t have any colour preferences, they accept anything lol

[tiredofthehumanlife]

The movie was just that bad

Barbie dolls: jegugily x reader (James, regulus, Lily, you)

Word: 2.4k ish

Summary: okay so basically you're feeling all left out so you go to bed early and Lily is like 🤨 and then communication happens 🤢

warnings: you crochet, insecure thoughts and feelings we've all been there it's cool, immature ways of handling a situation for a few seconds, bad poop jokex2 I thought it was silly :(, lily is very loving, feeling like a third fourth wheel, feet mentioned not in any particular manner James is just annoying Reg, reg calls James 'girl' in a dude way yk like "dude shut up" "girl move" yk so if you think of James as trans it could possibly be a little misgendering but like it's not got any evil undertones it's reg being lovingly annoyed with James, James calls you pretty, reg is a mind-reader a lil, Lily has big thighs it's cannon to me that she's plus sized so argue with the wall, Google translate French, that's all <3

Request: how did you know

You felt sick to your stomach. You love all three of your partners, how could you not? But you felt like you were being shunned. You were the first in the living room. You had a long sofa and next to that was an armchair sat sideways. Regulus was off in the kitchen with Lily, making dinner. James was in the bathroom taking a shower. All was well. You cozied up in the armchair, pulling out your crochet project. You heard James' music slipping past the bathroom door. Regulus and Lily were laughing in the kitchen. You smiled at the sound of their voices.

When James finished his shower, he walked through the living room. His towel was tied around his waist slut and he was waving his glasses in the air to get rid of the fog. James popped a kiss on your temple before heading to the bedroom. Dinner was finished, you four ate like normal. It was good until you noticed the others were doing all the talking. They didn't even glance over at you. You ignored it, chalking it up to them being really interested in their conversation. Then you all went back to the living room. Lily turned on a movie. You moved back into your chair. You picked up your crochet again, only now extremely aware of the silence from your partners. They were all piled on the couch, snuggling against each other. All while you sat in the arm chair.

It shouldn't be this serious. They just weren't giving you attention for a handful of hours, but felt like a stab in the heart. There they were all cuddled up against each other, and they hadn't spoken to you since lunch if even that. Regulus had his head in Lily's lap, her fingers tugging through his hair. James was snuggled up against her side. James was hugging her arm to his chest. He had his hand over Regulus' shoulder intertwining his fingers with Regulus'. And you were sitting cross legged in an armchair. You felt like you were miles away from them.

Although you had been dating a while, you joined their relationship last. They were already so comfortable with each other, they had inside jokes, they had bits between each other, they were already so far into their comfortability with another. You were behind, even now. Regulus and James were actively wearing matching pajama pants. You stared at them. you wanted to be curled up with them, but you didn't want to be greedy. Begging for affection from your partners felt strange to you. They'd have to change their postition, they'd probaly miss a few mintutes of the movie, and you'd have to face the total embarrassment of having human wants.

You couldn't handle seeing them together though. It hurt too much to see their domestic love while you were craving it yourself. You weren't going to make a scene though. You set your project and hook on the small table next to you. You stood and quietly left the room. You headed into the hallway that attached the bathroom and your bedroom to the living room.

James, Regulus, and Lily thought nothing of it, they all use the restroom it's quite normal. You didn't go into the restroom, though. You went into the bedroom. The light was already off. You tucked yourself under the covers of your shared bed. You just wanted to wallow in self pity on your own for a little. Then in the morning you'd be mature and bring it up with them, properly communicating. Just not tonight, you needed to sit in your yucky human feelings for a few hours.

The boys were highly focused on the film, they knew you had left the room a while ago. They assumed you were just fighting for your life in the bathroom, which you enjoyed to do alone so they weren't worried. Lily was though. She noticed that you were kind of quiet during dinner. Then very quiet during movie time. Then you got up and left. The movie was boring to her and probably you, but not that boring. She decided she would check on you in the bathroom. Maybe you fell in.

Lily stood up from the couch, not without James whining and Regulus grunting disapprovingly, and walked towards the bathroom. When she reached the door she noticed the lights weren't on and the door was open. Lily knew you walked into this hallway and she was pretty sure you weren't a ghost so she moved further down the hall. She gently pushed open the door bedroom door. Lily found your head of hair resting on your pillow, blankets tugged up to your ear. You must've gotten a headache. She stepped over to your side of the bed. Lily gently pushed your hair away from your temple. She kissed you on your forehead.

"Headache?" Lily whispered. You shook your head against the pillow. She paused and tried to figure out what could be making you feel like an early bedtime was better than sitting through a movie with them.

"You okay?" You once again shook your head. Lily frpwned. She tucked the blankets under your side, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"What's going on? Can I help?" You shrugged. Lily gently rubbed your arm. She asked you to look at her. You both sat in silence a moment before you turned in the covers. You laid on your back and slumped your head to the side, finally meeting her eyes. Lily pleaded with you to talk to her with her face. You sighed.

"I just feel behind and like just" You trailed off trying to think of the right way to describe your thoughts. If you had your self pity time you would've figured it out, but alas your loving girlfriend was loving girlfriend-ing. "Unneeded, I suppose." Lily gave you a sad look, tilting her head to the side.

"Can you expand?" You sighed. You hated voicing things. You much preferred writing it all out, dropping it in front of them, and dashing away into the other room. Regulus was similar although he often left his feelings hung up on the fridge with one of James' strange magnets. You sat up, the blankets collecting in your lap.

"It's like you guys are already so in tune and used to each other being in your lives, I feel like a third wheel. Although this would technically be a fourth wheel but that's just semantics. I know I should be over this by now but it's hard. It feels like I could disappear and you guys' day to day wouln't change at all. I feel secondary and greedy." You hit your hands on the comforter over your lap. Lily grabbed your hands, bringing your attention back to her. Her eyebrows were pulled together. She seemed closer to tears than you did. You noticed a lack of background noise, the movie must've hit a long and quiet dialogue. Lily squeezed your hands.

"I'm so sorry you felt like that. It was never our intention to make you hurt like this. You're so important to us. Our day to day would be ripped to sheds without you. You're allowed to feel like this, you aren't greedy and you don't have to be over it. It doesn't mean you deserve it though. We love you, I love you. I thought you weren't feeling cuddles tonight, that's the only reason I didn't' call you over. I'm so sorry, baby." Lily sealed her apology with a kiss to your cheek. You nodded. You looked down at your lap, you still felt like you were making a big deal out of something so stupid. You did feel a little better though. Lily stood up from the bed. You kept your hold on her hand.

"I'm going to go get the boys." You shook your head. They actually enjoyed the movie, unlike you.

"No don't. They're having fun with their movie, you can go back to them. I just want to lay here. Just don't tell them." You held onto her hand with both of yours. She gave you a disapproving look.

"Just because they're having a fun time doesn't mean you don't deserve to." You grimaced. You muttered pleases, as she tried to pull her hand from you. The door opened before she could leave. James popped his head in first.

"Hey guys you know there's a movie in the other room" James said. His joke made him smile. His eyes crinkling. Regulus pushed him into the room, following in. James' smile slowly fell as he saw the sad looks on both yours' and Lily's faces.

"What happened in here?" Regulus muttered. He picked up the damper mood as well. James flung himself into the bed. You bounced. You felt like a cartoon, being in such a sour mood while jumping up and down from James' weight. He pressed his face to your upper arm. Regulus squinted at you and Lily sharing a look. He moved towards the bed sitting on the edge, closer to the foot of the bed. James rubbed his fuzzy socks up and down Regulus' arm. Regulus grimaced deeply and smacked him away. James giggled against your arm. Regulus rolled his eyes before looking back to you.

"We're feeling a lot of big feelings today." Lily said, sitting back down on the bed. You glared at her. James picked his head up, looking up at you. Regulus scooted closer to you, crossing his legs on the bed.

"Do not infantilize me." You grumbled, sitting back against the pillows. Lily shook her head.

"I'm not-" Regulus cut Lily off with a disagreeing whine.

"Just a little." He mumbled. James ignored them both, staring at you with wide eyes.

"What's going on, darling?" You shrugged. Just don't answer their questions. What can they do? You sat in silence for a moment. You felt the weight of their eyes on you. You truly wished you could fall asleep faster, they would never wake you up for this communication nonsense. Regulus pulled himself up onto his hands and knees. He crawled between you and James shooing him out of the way.

"Move."

"I'm very comfortable where I am thank you."

"Girl, I said move."

"You're so demanding." James muttered as he scooted to the side. Regulus sat next to you, pulling your hands into his.

"I think I know what's going on." Regulus whispered to you. Lily scoffed and rolled her eyes. James shook his head and stared at Regulus.

"Oh yeah, Mr magical I-know-everything man what do you think is going on?" James asked. Regulus snapped his head to face James next to him.

"Shut up." Regulus seethed, hissing through his teeth. He turned back to you and his expression softened. "I joined these dickheads after they were dating and I felt all rejected and behind. Is that what this is about?" Regulus whispered. You nodded your head, holding onto his hands tighter. James made a sad sound behind Regulus.

"That's okay, you feel like we're already comfortable and you'd be intruding? Jealous but in a self-deprecating way?" Regulus gently cupped your cheek with one hand. You nodded. You turned your head, pressing a kiss to his palm. James screeched and pushed his head over Regulus' shoulder.

"You'd think we would've figured this out by now. I'm sorry, pretty." James frowned and pushed his face further into Regulus' shoulder. His face was squished making his glasses slip down a little. Lily rubbed your shoulder.

"Seriously we're really sorry." Lily whispered. At the mention of the word serious James looked up with a grin. Lily held up a hand in his direction. "Do not." James deflated and hid in Regulus' shoulder.

"When did this flare up today? Was it when we were in the kitchen?" Regulus asked, dragging your attention back to him. You grimaced and shook your head. He ran his thumb over your cheekbone, encouraging you to continue.

"Dinner, but really with the movie." Your voice was barely above a breath. You were exhausted from crying in the dark and exhausted from communicating. Regulus nodded and kissed your forehead. James gasped loudly and flung himself over Regulus' legs. He laid on his stomach, kicking his legs up in the air, and supporting his head with his fist.

"Do you want cuddles?" James asked. Lily stared at James for a moment.

"I feel like you're not taking this seriously, and it's upsetting me." Lily said. James' shoulders sunk. He looked away from you to Lily.

"I'm trying to be positive, but you're over here being a Pessimistic Pandora." James poked Lily's plush thighs that rolled up her sleepy shorts when she sat down. Lily glared at him lovingly.

"Don't bring Pandora into this." Regulus argued. James moved his attention to Regulus.

"You're upsetting your partner, look at them." Lily cupped your face as she spoke. You made an exaggerated sad face. She whined and pressed her cheek against yours. "so sad." Lily muttered. James quickly tackled you wrapping you in his warm arms.

"James you're crushing me." You whispered to him. He shook his head against your neck. James turned his head, pecking you all over your face. You let out a laugh, gripping his shoulders for support.

"Crushing you with my love." James said. He scooted further down your body, resting his head on your chest. James held onto you gently now. Regulus laid down next to the both of you. He settled one hand on your shoulder, dropping his head next to yours on your pillow. Regulus gently kissed your cheek. He lingered for a moment before pulling back. Regulus settled against the pillow again.

"I love you, bien-aimé." You melted against him. You turned your head towards him. You pressed your forehead against Regulus'. You felt Lily scooting down the bed too. She pulled your arm off the mattress, and tugging it over her shoulders. She whispered for James to move down. He obliged. James pressed his face into your stomach. Regulus dropped his other hand to James hair, twirling James' curls around his finger. Lily rested her head on your chest. You rubbed her shoulder with your hand. That's how you four fell asleep, giving you all the proper cuddles. In the morning James made pancakes for everyone. Your stack had 'I <3 u' written in chocolate chips. Lily made the fridge magnets into a heart with your initial inside. Next to the grocery list, next to the heart, was a long winded love letter in Regulus' swirly handwriting.

[actuallysaiyan]

Kinktober Day 3: Double Penetration(Fuck around, get tongue tied...)

warnings/kinks: double penetration, oral sex(male receiving), vaginal fingering, boobplay, threesome, vulgar words. word count: 1.3k pairings: Hidan x Fem!Reader x Kakuzu teaser: “Is this part of your stupid religion, Hidan?” Kakuzu asks, his brows furrowed. Hidan laughs, “Oh and here I thought you didn’t fucking care about that.” taglist: @beneathstarryskies @loki-love @witchofcustom @dreadsuitsamus @pyrofanatic @butterflieskeepcominback

Being their partner was never anything you had planned on, but when you joined the Akatsuki, you didn’t have much planned. It was a spur of the moment decision after you defected from your village. With your family killed by the same ninja clan you had trusted for so long, you knew you couldn’t stay there.

Kakuzu is a little more on the mean side, but you still enjoy spending time with him on missions. You try to listen to him as much as possible, but Hidan keeps you both on your toes.He’s mischievous in the best way possible, but you know it drives Kakuzu crazy.

You’re finishing up an important mission when Hidan begins moaning about being tired and how he wants a place to stay for the night. Kakuzu becomes quite irritated, but when you mention being tired, he finally gives in.

The first inn you find is quite luxurious. There’s a bar and a spa, and the room you rent is quite big. Kakuzu is angry that he’s had to spend the money, but seeing you relaxed is more of a reward than he ever considered. The feelings he’s developed for you over the time you’ve been with him surprise him greatly.

What he doesn’t know is that his partner feels very much the same about you…

That night, after taking a long bath, you settle in the room with just a robe on. You’re sipping some sake and laughing at some dumb joke that Hidan made. He smirks at you, knowing he’s going to get you buzzed then he’ll make his move.

“Do you have any idea how fucking cute you look?” Hidan asks, sipping his own cup of sake.

This little comment makes Kakuzu choke on his own saliva. He’s sitting at the desk in the corner of the room, counting his money and budgeting to make sure this little stop isn’t going to cost him more than what he paid for the room. He turns to spot you and Hidan cozying up together. He hates the way you look so dazed right now.

“Is this part of your stupid religion, Hidan?” Kakuzu asks, his brows furrowed.

Hidan laughs, “Oh and here I thought you didn’t fucking care about that.”

You swallow hard as you realize that these two might get into an argument. And whenever that happened, you always had to be the mediator. Kakuzu growls and pushes himself away from the desk. He walks over to you and Hidan, snatching you away from Hidan.

“Awh come on, can’t we just play nice? She could be a fun little fucktoy,”

Hidan’s words make your heart skip a beat. Is this what all the fuss is about? You look at Kakuzu, who now has you in his arms, and he seems quite determined too.You shudder as the realization of what was to come next comes over you. Hidan takes this opportunity to snatch you back, placing you firmly on his lap. His lips are on your neck, making you moan.

“There’s a few ways this can go,” Hidan mutters against your skin. “What way do you want to be fucked, pretty girl?”

You swallow hard, unsure of how to even respond to that. But if you said you never fantasized about this, you’d be the biggest liar in the world. How often did you think of them taking turns with you? You would lay in your bed at night, just touching yourself to thoughts of Kakuzu fucking you or Hidan pumping himself up into you.

“W-well,” you say, “what if I took both of you?”

Hidan cackles loudly, clearly so impressed by your answer. Kakuzu remains silent, but there’s a new look in his unique eyes. He likes where this is going.

“At least someone has smarts,” Kakuzu says as he lowers his mask. You gasp when you see his mouth. “Don’t worry, this will be good for you as much as it’s good for us.”

Hidan laughs, “I fuckin’ doubt it! This is going to be so damn good!”

Kakuzu is quick to pull on the knot keeping your robe together, and Hidan is urging him on. Once you’re exposed to the pair, they both know that they can’t hold back any longer. Any feelings they both have for you will soon become very apparent to you. And you won’t be able to hide your own feelings from the pair.

“Look at those fuckin’ tits!” Hidan exclaims, squeezing your breasts hard. It makes you squeak. “Damn, she’s built like a little sex doll.”

Kakuzu groans, but he has to agree. You’ve got such a sexy body. He then leans in to capture your lips in a hungry kiss, making you gasp at the sudden feeling of their moves.

With Hidan squeezing your breasts and Kakuzu now playing with your exposed pussy, you’re sure you’ll come undone easily. This is exactly how you pictured it. Shaky breaths and moans slip from your lips as the men take their time stimulating you. Between Kakuzu’s heated kisses and Hidan’s lewd comments, you’re in heaven.

“What’s that little pussy like? Big enough for the both of us?” Hidan asks, spreading your legs a bit more.

Kakuzu laughs in a dark way, “Sure, if we want to tear her apart.”

You can’t see Hidan’s reaction but you know he’s more than happy to hear this. It’s true, you haven’t had many lovers. Your little hole is quite tight and not broken in.

Hidan drags you onto the bed, spreading you out for them both. Then he crawls on top of you after shedding his clothes. You barely have time to take him all in before he’s kissing you like his life depends on it. You’re just enjoying yourself when you feel something tap your cheek.

You look over and Kakuzu has his cock out, and he’s smearing the pearlescent fluid onto your cheek and lips. Hidan begins playing with your pussy before he uses the tip of his own cock to tease your dripping hole.

“Take us both, darling,” Kakuzu says softly, and it warms your heart that he’s so good to you.

Hidan thrusts into you, making you cry out and fist the sheets. Kakuzu uses this as his way into your mouth, and soon you find yourself filled with both men to the brim. Tears well up in your eyes, and Kakuzu reaches down to wipe them away.

“What a good little cocksleeve,” he praises, and your walls pulse around the cock in your pussy.

“Fucking tight little whore,” Hidan says as he begins riding you even harder.

All of these new sensations send you into a daze, your mind almost blank but the feelings of both men penetrating you sends you closer to your own climax. Hidan seems close too, but it’s hard to tell when he’s just so chaotic and everything coming from him sounds like an earth-shattering moan.

It’s not long before Kakuzu pulls out from your mouth, and he maneuvers you so that you’re on your hands and knees. Hidan lets him move you to the best position and he settles under you, ready to penetrate your little pussy once more.

You scream when they both prod your tight hole with their cocks. You can feel just how thick Kakuzu is, but Hidan has the length. You try to tell them to slow down, but neither of them hear your little pleas. If anything, it seems to be spurring on Hidan even more.

“Just let us fuck you,” Hidan says, slipping into you. KakuZu is stretching you out as well, and you’re so amazed that they both can fit inside of you.

You feel Kakuzu’s hands on your ass, rubbing and caressing. Then he leans in and you feel his long hair tickling your back.

“Don’t worry, little one. We’ve got you,” 

His praises make you feel even better. But something tells you that this won’t be the last time you’ll find yourself in this position…

[raul-volp2]

That Ghibli inspired 5e book that I saw some people commenting sparked a lot of thoughts in my mind, but most of it is how we are filled with books with a lot of surface level inspirations that dont make a full critical analysis of what they are referencing and end up being not even a good homage but fail to unuderstand their inspiration, like saying that they are a cozy game but fill the rules with stat blocks and loot. It also always coming back to this nature of ttrpg in general to use pre estabilished systems that most of the time dont work with the fiction they have in mind, because that system itself is created with another fiction in mind. But the first thing that comes to my mind is that those products dont strive to be engaging and fun, is just to generate profit quick using a system that is very marketable, a visual style that is generally adored and you can post how you reach your ks money in 10 seconds.

It is a pattern not uncommon not only in ttrpg but game in general, something is popular or becomes popular and there is a lot of copycat, but with the tabletop rpg scene tradition of using srds, specially the OGL because it's tied to Dnd and it's big popularity, we see more of it, or at least a version that I don't want to call lazy, but focuesd on only generating buzz and sales on Kickstarter.

[ideas-4-stories]

Cross guild romance prompt:

When S-Hawk and S-Croc are first brought to the Guild or taken in, they both bond with their adult organic counterparts. But they actually really REALLY love Buggy.

He has that energy of Safe For Children, he's actually really really good with kiddos, especially ones with trauma. He really became the kinda person he wanted and needed when he was a lil'un. Buggy really likes kids, honestly, he just doesn't interact with them much, especially lately what with his newfound notoriety. Back in the East, at least, he could go relatively under cover and set up a circus event. Now, he's got his hands tied with options.

Crocodile and Mihawk are both surprised by this but don't particularly care. So what if the clown can make balloon animals and makes the boys actually smile and laugh? He's just a clown. Clowns do that. Whatever.

It only comes to a head when, late one evening, Mihawk goes to check on the boys when he senses a strange disturbance. Buggy beat him there. The swordsman watches from the doorway as Birdie (his own seraphim, name pending, nickname in the meantime) sits on the clown's lap, rubbing tears from his eyes. Angel (Croc's seraphim, name pending, nickname in the meantime) is wrapped up against the clown's chest. The three are in the rocking chair, Buggy holding both of the boys close, comforting them with hands in hair or petting backs. And he's singing softly to them. It's a language Mihawk has never heard before, to his knowledge. Though it DOES remind him of some of the seemingly senseless babble from Shanks when he drank far too much. He stays in the shadows, watching. Observing. Memorizing.

He refuses to acknowledge the warmth in his chest as anything other than mild heartburn.

<>

Crocodile is faced with a similar situation but very much different. It's midday for one. And there are no tears or need for comfort involved for another.

It was a cooler day, and he'd seen hide nor hair from the clown for more than a few hours. Truly, a horrific notion.

He ends up finding Buggy in the kitchen, hair in a messy bun and wearing an apron. The kids are with him as well, in oversized aprons. All three are a mess, laughing, flour and powdered sugar on her faces, aprons, in their hair. It's chaotic. It's loud. It's... happy.

Crocodile just watches for a bit, as the boys bounce and squeal over the dark chocolate and red velvet cake they made, Buggy gently walking them through piping designs. He chuckles when they make a mistake, nudges them with his hip and calls it "avant garde", waves off any concern. He's gentle with them as he guides tiny, deceptively soft little hands in loops and designs, laying out stencils and sifting powdered sugar to make shapes. It's cavity inducing.

Especially when Angel, hair held back with a headband decorated with frogs, looks up at Buggy and asks without hesitation, "Can we take some to Father and Papa, mama Bug?"

Crocodile tenses. His eyes go wide. Has the clown been coaching them, has he been-

Then he catches sight of Buggy blushing, staring wide eyed at Angel. "What did you call me, Angie?"

"Called you mama Bug. Why?"

Buggy kneels down, smiling softly despite the visible confusion. "Why did you call me that, gumdrop?"

Birdie chips in at that point, leaning to peek over his brother's shoulder. "Because you're Mama."

Buggy giggles, tucking a loose curl back. "I meant, where did you silly sweeties learn that?"

Both boys grin brightly. "Books! And that story book you read us all the time, the one with the princes and knights and dragons! Papa is the big dragon, and Father is the king!" They both turn blinding smiles at the clown. "And you're the queen! 'Cause the queen is nice and warm and fun and smart and pretty! And the queen is the princes' mama, so you're mama. Mamas are supposed to be nice and cozy and take care of us. Like you do! So you're mama!"

Buggy sniffles, smiling so fondly, so softly, it makes something in Crocodile thump roughly. He won't put a name to it. He refuses.

When Buggy cups the boys' cheeks, presses a kiss to their foreheads, the logia user turns on his heel and walks away.

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Just. The seraphims up and deciding that the cross guild leaders are the parents and playing accidentally-on-purpose matchmakers. Mihawk and Crocodile angrily falling for the Clown because the introduction of children has opened a new face for him, a new perspective to view and they're so pissed about it. They don't even want to beat him up anymore. They lay awake at night thinking about him. They're so mad. They're feral.

The kids are just like "wow, our dads are dumb. We should help!"

Cue a series of absolutely wild shenanigans, and Buggy is just. So confused. Then so done. So tired. He needs a nap. Maybe an energy drink. Maybe both at once.

S-Hawk and S-Croco makes sense to bond with their adult counterparts or come to a mutual tolerance of each other. The seraphim children really REALLY love Buggy because he has that SAFE energy for kids. I like that headcanon that he’s really good with kiddos, indeed he became the person for children that he wanted when he was little bug.

Buggy must be scared of interacting with kids after becoming one of the Emperor of the Sea. Yeah, Buggy could be a ringmaster and other performers in a circus back in the East Blue.

Headcanon: Buggy can make the greatest balloon animals because why not?

Mihawk going to check on the boys and find Buggy beat him to it, the clown hugging them both and calming them both. Birdie and Angel (holy stars what cute nicknames, let me guess all three have to come to a decision on what S-Croco and S-Hawk’s names will truly be and the seraphims must agree on them) Then Buggy starts singing to them! Mihawk’s heart!

Love One Piece having different languages than the common one… Maybe the language that the clown is singing in the Wado’s original language! Or maybe Roger or another Roger Pirate could speak another language and that’s what Buggy is singing in? IDK

Crocodile facing a similar situation, but it’s happier and more fun because the kids and Buggy are making treats (When you wrote that Crocodile having seen Buggy more than a couple times and to Crocodile it was a horrifying notion… does that mean Crocodile was looking for Buggy!!!) That mafia boss finding Buggy in the kitchen with the children. Awwwwwwwwww

It’s chaotic fun for Buggy and the seraphims, and they are making dark chocolate and red velvet cake! That’s so fucking cute! Squealing and wanting to kick my feet in the air of how cute the imagines I see are!!! Buggy walking them through piping the best he can, telling them that their mistakes don’t matter, and the cake still looks amazing. Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

How Angel (love the headband decorated with frogs, you know that was once Buggy’s headbands or Buggy bought it for him) shocks both adults because he calls Crocodile - Father, Mihawk - Papa, and Buggy - Mama Bug! (I don't think it's only because Angel called Buggy - Mama) So, does Birdie call Mihawk - Father and Crocodile - Papa?

Crocodile thinking Buggy taught him to do that, but Buggy is as confused Crocodile is (Calling the Seraphim Gumdrop, that’s a cute nickname) Birdie agreeing with his brother about calling Buggy - Mama Bug and they learned it from books. (I read like Birdie was the one saying it, so Papa Crocodile is the big dragon, Father Mihawk being the king and Mama Buggy as the queen)

Buggy being emotional about this is so him. Crocodile’s heart thumping against his chest while Buggy is pressing a kiss on their foreheads. Going back to making the cake with Angel and Birdie as Crocodile leaves the kitchen, probably going to where Mihawk is.

Love that the seraphims are accidentally-on-purpose matchmakers and deciding the cross leaders are their parents. Love how Mihawk and Crocodile are anger that they are falling for the clown. Love that those two are lying awake and thinking about Buggy.

The kids thinking their dada are dumb and think everything will be well if they help. In the end everything was fine… but in the middle? Holy stars what did those two do? Yeah, Buggy will be needing bot an energy drink and a nap, so confused and done with what’s happening.