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pineconepie · 2 months ago

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Yan king???👀

I had a little fun with the worldbuilding because it gave me an excuse to use one of my old ideas.

I'll explain it briefly because I didn't do much explaining in the writing: there are five major kingdoms in the nation of Lepidoptra - Rosy Maple, Atlas, Luna, Death's Head, and the one where reader is from: Comet Kingdom. Everyone has wings that resemble a moth, along with antennae. (yes moths are a huge hyperfixation of mine)

Just thought I'd get that out of the way lol. Anyway, this is probably one of the most yandere characters I've written mwehehe.

TW: Attempted murder (kind of but not really), parental yandere, manipulation, implied gaslighting, infantilization

...

Ever since you could recall, your father had been very protective over you. He homeschooled you, didn't let you leave the house much, only allowed a few select friends, but those friends were also friends with your dad, and just getting paid to talk to you.

Your father would hold you as often as he could, making sure he was the first and last thing you'd see daily.

He had told you, ever since you were just a young mothling, your wings had been cut off by a robber who attempted to kidnap you, and thus, your father had to be extremely cautious in regards to keeping you safe at home.

You never left the house alone, and even if you did, you were monitored.

Sometimes, you'd get strange flashbacks. Almost like deja-vu, but these felt more vivid in your mind.

Once when you saw Castor, your father's, sword, you had a vision of yourself getting stabbed in the chest. Or when he'd look angry at you, you'd recall seeing that exact expression on his face before. But those thoughts went away as soon as they appeared.

Sometimes you'd get horrible nightmares of him. You dreamed he hurt you somehow. And yet, you'd always wake up feeling fine. Nothing hurt physically.

But mentally? Something just wasn't clicking right.

Recently you began sneaking out of the castle, not wanting to alert your father, and you began going to this little tavern at the edge of town to spend time with your village friends, ones you know for a fact your father would never dream of approving.

"Calliope, Osmond, hey," you greet warmly, walking over to their usual table in the corner, sitting down beside them.

"Hey," Calliope says, leaning her head against her hand. "How was escaping the palace? Almost got caught again?" Her bright golden wings flutter slightly as she grins.

"Nah, Dad doesn't suspect anything at all," you proudly state.

"Good, because he would have our heads," Osmond sighs. He shares an uneasy glance with Calliope, then glances back at you. "We wanted to speak to you about something unsettling we found. About your father."

You hesitate. "If this is about him and the Atlas Kingdom again, I told you already—"

"It's not about that," Calliope mutters. She pulls out a huge book from a satchel, one that barely even fits in it. "Okay, I'm about to warn you, this is weird as hell. Even Oz was weirded out."

"Well if he was unsettled by it, then I'm scared to see what it even is," you say with a breathless chuckle.

"We found it in the royal library," Osmond tells you quietly. "And well, this should explain it." He opens up the book and starts flipping through pages and pages until he lands on one in particular, pointing down at it for you to read.

It has your name and picture on it. Your full name, everything.

At first, you find it slightly strange, but think there may be some kind of explanation. Most of the pictures on the book show you when you were younger, being held on Castor's hip while he made speeches at ceremonies. He looks the same as he does now, except maybe with a bit longer hair.

Then you start seeing yourself getting older...

There's one of a memory you don't even recall, of a headline saying the "(Y/n), Child of King Castor of the Comet Kingdom, joins Arkema Mittrei, Academy" in which you're being handed over to the kingdom's most prestigious academy.

You were homeschooled, that never even happened!

Another one shows you using magic abilities, and you look older than you currently even are. And you have... wings?!

"That was our expression when we read it too," Calliope anxiously says. "We weren't supposed to be in the Royal Library since its always locked and guarded, but we managed to get in with Oz's magic. We were looking for more evidence to prove to you that your father is terrible, but instead we just stumbled upon this."

You don't know what to say. "This doesn't make any sense. I never went to any academy, and my wings..."

"And you look older in these photos," Osmond observes. "I don't know what is going on, but this is just further proof you can't trust him. I know he raised you and you love him, but he's controlling your life and clearly keeping things from you. I knew he caused a lot of meaningless wars and was incredibly paranoid about you, but this?"

"I'm at a loss for words, here," you murmur, shaking your head as you feel tears stinging in your eyes. "What the hell am I supposed to do?! Just confront my dad and hope for the best?"

Calliope puts a hand on your shoulder. "Run away with us," she proposes. "Oz's mom is in the Atlas Kingdom, we can find sanctuary there."

"No way am I just abandoning my dad with no warning," you argue. "Besides, he'd try burning down all of Atlas if he knew I was there! I'll just ask him for an explanation. I'm sure there is one."

"And risk letting him know you've been sneaking out of the kingdom?" Osmond scoffs. "Your death wish, not mine."

"Just give us at least a month or two," Calliope says. "Please. That way we can come up with a game plan."

You exhale quietly, your antennae twitching. "Okay. But no longer."

...

"Uhm, hey, Dad? I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Hm?" He peers his eyes away from the newspaper he's reading and smiles at you. "Of course! Come sit." You hesitate as he pats the seat next to him on the couch, and you reluctantly plop beside him. He hugs you closer to his chest. "So," he hums, kissing the side of your head, "what is it?"

"...have I ever went to Arkema Mittrei Academy?" You watch as his smile drops.

He glances off, contemplating a response before returning his gaze to you. "Oh, sweetheart, where did you hear that? Of course not! I think you'd remember something like that." His laugh sounds nervous. "Have you been having those scary dreams again?"

You bite your tongue. "No. I came across a book in the royal library. I know you don't like me going in there unsupervised, but I did. And I saw pictures of myself at the school, and another one where I'm older, and have my wings. Why do I have no recollection of those moments happening?"

His smile drops even more so, and now, his expression is unreadable. "Where did you get the book, baby?"

"I... uh, I got it in the royal library. I told you that," you stutter.

"How did you get in there unsupervised? There's always guards patrolling the library," Castor explains, narrowing his eyes. "Did someone help you sneak in?"

"What? No!" you lie. You start trying to wriggle out of his grip, but he holds you still.

"Baby," he soothes, almost condescendingly, "just tell Dad what he wants to know. I'm not mad."

He's lying. He's angry. You can't see the expression on his face because he's holding you so closely, but you can feel his rage boiling beneath his skin.

"No, I'm not lying. It was just left unlocked! But that's not my question, I wanna know what I saw in those! Why is there evidence of me doing and experiencing things I have zero memory of?!"

"I knew I should've burnt that damn book," he grumbles under his breath. "I thought you were doing so well this time."

"What do you mean 'this time'?!" you nearly cry, flailing so hard out of his grasp you fall to the floor.

"Oops!" Castor chuckles, standing over you with a cold grin. "Gosh, it feels like yesterday when you could hardly walk without tripping over your feet. Always so wobbly and unstable." He stands up and contemplates on something. "Alrighty, kiddo, since I'm so nice, you have two options. Bedtime and we'll forget about this, or you keep pushing me and we'll see where this takes us."

"What does that mean?" you rasp. "What will you do?"

Castor's bright wings spread out widely, as a show to intimidate you and make you feel smaller. "I really would rather we both just go to bed."

He's never hurt you in the past... "I just want to know what's going on."

"Well, for starters, all that information you think you know is irrelevant, it's been rewritten now," Castor replies nonchalantly, looking down at you. "All those things you saw happened, but you didn't experience them because that wasn't you. Not this you. The original you was too disobedient, so I had to reset and start all over again."

"Reset?!" you repeat incredulously. "What are you talking about?!"

Castor runs a hand through his hair. "Fine. Since you think an explanation is worth it. You can't die. You're immortal, just not in the same way I am. This is like..." He pauses. "...your nineteenth life or so, I believe? Once you die, you turn back into a baby. No injuries, no sickness, no memories. A clean slate. I try to avoid it, but whenever you start rebelling or growing too independent, it has to be done all over again."

"Nothing has to be done! You're killing me, just so you can what?! Watch me grow up again, exactly the same way?! What kind of twisted logic is that?!"

"Don't raise your voice at me," Castor scolds. "I'm not killing you, at least not technically. Besides, I love watching you grow, trying to find the perfect way to raise you. But it seems like no matter how I do so—whether I give you your freedom or make sure I'm the only face you see, you always end up leaving."

You shudder at his cryptic words. "Were you the one who cut off my wings?"

Castor waves a hand dismissively. "Only because you kept trying to run away with them. But they always regrow back once you're reborn." He pulls out a dagger, one you now understand why he always carries it with him.

"Dad, please..." you quietly plead, scrambling back in an attempt to stand up. "I'm sorry. We can let this go."

His eyes darken. "Not an option anymore, sweetie. You asked for answers, and you got them. Hey, maybe the twentieth time is the charm." He lunges for you, holding you down so he can lift his blade. "I'm so sorry, kiddo. I promise it'll just feel like a pinch, and then you'll wake up good as new!" His expression is sweet and adoring, but also crazed.

Just as he brings the blade down and you squeeze your eyes shut, all your hear is Castor's groan of pain.

"(Y/n)!" Calliope yells, grabbing onto your hand and yanking you up.

Castor wipes the blood running down his nose, glaring at the two of your friends. "(Y/n), you made some friends, huh? Must've been sneaking out behind my back for a while if they're jumping in their own graves for you." He gets back to his feet and starts approaching. "Step away from my child before you really regret it."

"Let's go!" Osmond demands, opening up a portal in front of Calliope after she pulled you to your feet.

The three of you tumble in, right before Castor tries attacking you as well.

Then suddenly, you're back outside, standing in the forest where your kingdom stood tall. You can hear him scream in frustration from all the way out here, likely calling for guards and barking out orders.

"He knows magic too," you whisper. "He won't be too far behind."

"I can only make portals so far," Osmond murmurs. "We need to run. Now."

#answered ask #parental yandere #platonic yandere #familial yandere #castor oc #tw attempted murder #tw infantilization #forced infantilization #if anyone wants to see part 2 let me know!! :D

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alidiggory92 · 28 days ago

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His Girl - One Shot

Jackson!Joel x F!reader

Summary: Joel and reader have been together for a few years now, and live in his house in Jackson with Ellie. You forget to lock his truck after driving it, and he gets a little upset.

OR you call him Daddy, Joel melts, and Dina walks in at literally the worst time.

Notes/tags (16+): Age gap (Joel is late fifties, reader is mid twenties), established relationship, domestic fluff, light angst, hurt/comfort, soft smut, teasing, banter, Joel is kinda mean, no use of y/n, daddy kink (reader literally says it once), glasses!joel, oldman!joel, Dina walks in but it's not exhibitionism, TLOU season 2 spoilers (not really just characters from that are used), Every Breath You Take by The Police (song is played, cause the reader likes it), protective Joel, no smut just sensual stuff. Hopefully I got it all!

Word Count: 2.5K A/N: Okay! Here we go! First one shot so please be nice to me, okay? No smut, just all fluff and sensual talk, since I've stated that I feel weird about writing smut (for now.. mwehehe). Reader is not described apart from having hair long enough for Joel to comb his fingers through it, and that she likes music.

Joel was busy in the house, working on some circuit board. His glasses sat low on the bridge of his nose, and his eyes squinted slightly. He needed a new prescription, his vision has been getting worse over the years, but he always brushed you off when you commented on it.

You watched him through the window, coming back from a small patrol. The only kind Joel would let you go on were the ones around town or right outside the walls. You weren’t scared exactly—just nervous.

Earlier, you’d driven his truck, and forgot to lock it once you got back home. You came out of the garage just in time to see Joel unlocking the truck with his spare keys. He paused, sighed, and chewed his bottom lip—fourth time you’d forgotten.

Sure, Jackson was a pretty safe town, but you know Joel. Doesn’t trust most people. Plus, men. With their trucks. You never understood that. Maybe it was a boomer thing.

His frustration–already high from construction– was only heightened when this happened. Which only resulted in a ‘stern talking to’ –as Joel called it–. You hated getting lectured. Made you feel like a kid. Which, compared to him, you are.

Regardless, you ended up nodding along to his words, tears forming in your eyes.

“I’ve told you, as soon as you get out of the truck, you lock the damn door.” Joel held up his keys, dangling them, “You insert, twist, and double check. Ain’t complicated.”

You nodded, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn't cut it this time, hun.” He scratched his beard. “Show me how you lock it.” He nodded at the truck.

You scrunched your nose, and sniffled as you walked over to his truck, grabbing the keys from his rough hands, fiddling with getting them into the lock. Swallowing thickly, you lock it, then tug on the handle to show him it’s locked.

“Good girl.” Joel murmured, patting your hip and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

That was about two hours ago, and you still feel weird going back inside the house. You have no reason to be. Joel wasn’t scary, except for when he had to put you in your place, but that was years ago. You knew his boundaries and he knew yours. Mostly.

But apparently his therapy sessions with Gale were helping. Which you didn’t know about until a week ago.

You sniffled, your nose running from crying the cold. Then you open the front door quietly, hoping Joel wouldn’t hear you come in, considering he was working on that circuit board, and was half-deaf anyway.

You take off your jacket, put it on the coat rack, then wipe your nose with your sleeve.

“Hey, darlin’.” Joel says, looking up briefly.

You swallow, your gaze low. The guilt from not locking his truck again shouldn’t be this severe, since he seems to have forgotten about it already.

“Where abouts you been for the past coupla hours?” Joel asked, poking and prodding with some tools you had no idea what the purpose of them was.

“Out.” You mumble, busying yourself with the fridge—nothing inside but water, a whiskey flask, and a half-eaten sandwich. You grumble quietly, then shut the fridge, leaning back against the counter, gazing at Joel’s hunched back.

“Out.” Joel echoed. He’s silent for a long time. He sits up, looking over his shoulder at you, “What’s the Ellie stance for?” He asked.

You fix your stance, uncross your arms from your chest, “I’m not-” You defend yourself then Joel tsks.

“Tch, no, you are. Acting like a damn teenager.”

You huff, he knew you hated being called that. “I’m not.” You argue.

Joel stayed quiet. Ever since those damn therapist appointments started he’s stopped picking up your arguments. Or he just stays quiet until you decide to engage with him. The whole ‘I’m not responsible for someone else’s emotional state’ had you surprised but also a little upset. Especially with how dependent you’d become on him.

He didn’t mind of course, you’re his girl. But the frustration and slight guilt or the damn hormones you had, made your mood swing like no other.

After a few minutes of nothing but the tapping of the tools against the circuit board, you walk over to his chair, and sit on the floor next to it. Joel paused, sighing through his nose. “The hell are you doin’ on the floor?” he asked.

You sit on the floor in silence, fiddling with the laces of Joel’s boot, your fingers slow, almost absent-minded. The clinking of the tools fills the space, but it doesn’t cover the ache in your chest. You’re still carrying the guilt, the weight of disappointing him—even if it was just about a damn truck lock.

But maybe guilt isn’t the only thing pressing on you.

You shift closer, resting your cheek on his thigh, under the table. You feel him pause. He doesn’t say anything at first, just lets out a soft sigh through his nose. Then—

“Tch,” Joel tsks, his tone low. “No, darlin’. Not right now.”

Your fingers trail up, finding the buckle of his belt, toying with it lazily. His breath catches. You smirk a little to yourself.

“Honey, I said no.” His voice is firmer this time, but his hand never moves to stop you. That familiar tension in his body tells you everything.

You sit back on your heels and chuckle softly, gaze dropping to the front of his jeans. Your hand still fiddles with his belt, not unbuckling it, but more tapping against the buckle. You nudge your nose against his inner thigh, shutting your eyes at the feeling of the denim against your skin.

Joel groans under his breath, setting his tools down with a small clink. He looks down at you, kneeling, his glasses sliding off his nose a bit, but he catches them with his index finger, pushing them back up.

“I hate when you’re mad at me,” you whispered, voice small.

“I ain’t mad.” he replied gruffly, but the way his hand makes its way to thread through your hair says otherwise. “Just worry about ‘cha.”

“I’m sorry.” you muttered.

Joel furrowed his brows, “Sorry don’t mean crawlin’ under tables and actin’ like a brat.”

You huff, “You like when I act like a brat.” You joke, hoping the crease between his brows would relax.

Joel huffs a breath that would’ve been a laugh if he weren’t so focused on you knelt before him, “Ain’t the point.” He runs his hand through your hair, being careful not to snag any fingers on potential knots.

He reaches down with a low grunt, his hands going under your arms to help you up off the floor, “Don't want your knees bruisin’.”

You let him lift you, despite feeling bad for the way he grunts as you settle into his lap. Joel noticed, of course, and just tutted at you, leaning back into his chair, his hands settling on your hips. You lean forward, chest to his, then nuzzle your face into his neck. He smelled like work, he always did, even before you got to Jackson. The musky smell of pine and leather, or as you called it, ‘the old man smell’ just to get a rise out of Joel.

Joel noticed your silence, which meant you were fighting with your thoughts on what to say, “You’re mine to look after.” He started, then cleared his throat, the vibration going through his chest to yours.

“You don’t have to worry so much.” You muffled against his neck, shutting your eyes tightly.

“That’s like tellin’ the sun not to rise.” He gently grabs your face with one hand, then kisses your forehead. “Just… lock the damn truck next time,” He muttered, though there was no malice to his tone.

“Yes, sir.” you mumble, your cheeks squished between his fingers.

Joel chuckles, releasing your face, then pressing another kiss to your forehead. His hands settle back onto your hips, rubbing up and down your sides slowly, feeling the curve of your waist.

You study his face, seeing the more prominent crows feet up close, and the crease between his brows from concentrating too hard. Your thumb comes up to smooth the crease and Joel huffs.

“That’s permanent, I know. My fault,” Joel started, already knowing you were about to say he worries too much. Again.

You only hum, leaning closer, your nose brushing against his, and breath hitting his lips. His hand slides up to your back, pressing down so you’d arch into him.

“C’mere.” He grunts lowly, and you do. Your lips connect with his, gentle and slow.

Your hands come up to the collar of his jacket, tugging him closer, though there was already no air between you two. He groans against your lips, a hand sliding into your hair, the other still on your back.

He gently tugs at the hair at the base of your neck, pulling back, just enough to take a breath, “Damn things are foggin’ up.” He muttered.

You open your eyes, cheeks flushed, as Joel pulls back with a huff of annoyance. He takes his glasses off with one hand, setting them on the table behind you without looking. You whine quietly; partially from not thinking about his glasses getting in the way, but also because you liked when he kept his glasses on.

“Should’ve left them on,” You whisper, your fingers combing through the gray curls at the nape of his neck, “I like them.”

Joel chuckles lowly, rough and breathy. “Can’t see shit when they steam up like that.”

You peck the corner of his mouth, then trail down to his jaw, his beard scratching at your lips, “Still think you look good, Daddy.”

You reach back to grab his glasses, using your shirt to clean them.

His hand stills against your waist.

“Haven’t heard that in a while.” Joel says gruffly. Which only makes you giggle quietly.

“Nuh uh,” You argue, putting his glasses back on his face.

“Jesus,” he breathes before kissing you again – deeper this time.

Joel pulls back after a moment, just enough to speak, his voice low and breathing a bit labored. “Go put somethin’ on. You like that one with the creepy stalker singin’ about love, right?”

You blink, lips red and swollen, “Every Breath You take? That is not creepy, it’s sweet.”

Joel scoffs, giving your hip a pat. “Baby, the man’s talkin’ about watchin’ her every move. That’s not love, that’s a restrainin’ order.”

You slip off of his lap and sigh. “Whatever. You’d stalk me if I left.”

Joel snorts, picking his tools back up, “I’d just follow the sound of you talkin’ shit under your breath.”

You glare at him over your shoulder as you walk into the living room, flipping through the stack of vinyls he had gotten you over the years. You hum happily as the needle drops onto the spinning record, the guitar riff filling the house as you turn it up.

“Goddammit, girl.” Joel put his tools back down, realizing you turned it up way too loud for his liking despite his half deaf ass.

You flop onto the couch, laying on your stomach, using your forearms as a pillow. You hear Joel’s heavy footsteps as you’re met with his thighs in your face, standing by the couch.

“You know it’s creepy, right?” He murmurs, moving your hair out of your face.

“And you know you’re old, right?” You shoot back, which only earns you a playful swat on your ass. You squeal and giggle, but huff when Joel turns the turntable volume down.

“I still got you.” Joel said, walking over to the couch, moving your legs so he can sit down.

“Barely. All I get is beard trimmings in the sink and grunts now.” You huff, even if you’re only teasing him.

“Grunts, huh?”

“Mhm. And that one look you get when you’re about to say something mean but decide to kiss me instead.”

Joel rubs your thigh, making you turn to lay on your back, and coax your head into his lap, “Such a terrible way of livin’.” He teased.

You only hum, turning your head in his lap, to be faced with his stomach, starting to play with the buttons of his flannel. He kept talking.

“-and Maria wants so many things done before Spring, I also reckon Tommy’s been lyin’ to me lately,” Joel rambled. Shit, was he talking? Too late, you’re focused on something else right now.

You manage to unbutton about three of the buttons at the bottom of his flannel, lifting it up to kiss his stomach, making Joel stop his talking and look down at you, keeping his glasses on his nose with his index finger.

“Y’keep doing that,” He warns, “and I’m gonna take it as an invitation.”

You sit up a bit, “What if it is?”

Joel takes his glasses off, “You wanna start somethin’ right now, sweetheart? While that creepy-ass record’s still playin’?”

You chuckle, “I don’t hear you getting up to change it.”

“Shit,” he mutters, leaning down to kiss you, more hungry this time. Your hands are in his hair again before you realize it, and he groans. His hands trail under your shirt, warm and slow as he traces your spine. You lift your arms, and Joel rolls your shirt up, tossing it to the floor.

He lays you back on the couch with a short grunt, settling between your thighs, his flannel almost completely open. Oh, how did that happen? The sight made you giggle

“Goddamn-”

Knock knock.

The front door swings open.

“Hey, Joel, you – OH MY GOD.”

Joel freezes. You blink, lifting yourself up to look over his shoulder, hair a mess, and shirt gone, but it was enough to give the full picture.

Dina stands in the doorway, her hand over her mouth.

Joel sighs like he just aged another five years, “Dina, for the love of-”

“Nope! No, no, nope,” she says, already backing out, looking up at the ceiling. “I didn’t see anything, swear to God.”

The door shuts with a clatter.

For a second, you both just stare at the now-shut door. Your heart’s still racing, not just from being caught half-naked, but from the warmth of Joel’s body pressed against yours. He hasn’t moved. Neither have you. And maybe that’s the funniest part; how normal it feels to be interrupted like this.

Joel rests his forehead between your breasts, and groans into the skin, “She’s never gonna let me live that down.”

You chuckle, your hand still tangled in his hair, “She’s gonna tell Ellie, too.”

Joel groans louder, his cheeks dusted pink as he rests his chin on your sternum, “Goddammit.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #daddy!joel #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #ali's cranium #tlou2 #the last of us #joel miller fluff #old man!joel miller #one shot

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bamgyuuuri · 3 months ago

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yk who i am hehe we're working together :3 but when i'll send you reqs, i'll be anon. i'll be ☁️ anon mwehehe

barista beomgyu. please. i beg.

⸝⸝ brewing love ┈ cbg.

⸝⸝ now playing : can't stop - taehyun & hueningkai

pairings and tags. barista!beomgyu x reader . fleeting glances . mutual pining . not-actually unrequited love . cute mutual crush shenanigans . beomgyu is the actual sweetest im crying . slow burn-ish . cheeky clichés . shy yet abrupt confession . tooth-rutting fluff

word count. 8.8k

short note! OOOOH i think i already know who u are mwehehe, hello ☁️ anon !! <3 i made this extra special just for you, i hope u like it :3

barista!beomgyu, who just so happens to begin working at the newly opened café a few buildings down your apartment. you were walking down the street, lost in thought, when something pulls your attention toward the soft hum of a new place. the café stands there, tucked in the corner of the street, windows wide open to let the fresh air in, light spilling onto the sidewalk. you slow down your pace, drawn to the cozy space inside.

beomgyu was behind the counter, his hair a little tousled, falling into his eyes in a way that makes him look effortlessly adorable. his smile was the first thing you notice—bright, welcoming, and easy, like he’s been expecting you all along. it’s a smile that makes you pause, heart fluttering just a little faster, and before you even know what you were doing, your feet were taking you closer to the door, pulling you inside without a second thought.

“hi, welcome in!” beomgyu greets, his voice smooth and warm, with a hint of curiosity that makes you feel like he’s genuinely happy to see you. it’s more than just the usual greeting—there’s something about the way his eyes light up when he looks at you, something that makes you feel a little self-conscious and yet strangely special at the same time.

you hesitate for a moment, not knowing what to say. your usual confidence has fled, leaving behind a slight nervousness that catches in your throat. “uh… just a cappuccino, please,” you manage, your words coming out softer than you intended.

beomgyu doesn’t miss a beat, his smile widening a fraction as he nods. “coming right up.”

as he turns to prepare your drink, you find yourself watching him more than you mean to—his fingers moving smoothly over the espresso machine, his soft hums filling the quiet space, and the way his movements are almost… graceful. the whole scene feels so cozy, and as you stand there waiting for your coffee, you can’t help but catch yourself stealing glances at him. you’re suddenly so aware of how your pulse quickens every time he looks back at you, even just for a second.

when he hands you your cappuccino, the slight brush of his fingers against yours sends a tiny jolt through you, and your breath catches for a moment. it’s only for a heartbeat, but it feels like something more than just a simple touch. his eyes flicker to yours again, and there’s a softness in them that makes your cheeks heat up, though you’re not sure if it’s from the warmth of the coffee or the warmth of his gaze.

“enjoy,” he says, his voice low and sweet, and you feel a sudden longing to stay, to continue this moment, to keep this connection alive just a little longer. but you have to leave, so you turn away, suddenly feeling like the moment has slipped through your fingers too quickly.

the next morning, you’re walking down the same street, and without even thinking about it, your feet lead you straight to the door of the café. the anticipation builds in your chest, a little flutter each step closer, like you’re preparing for something—but you’re not sure what.

“good morning!” beomgyu greets, his voice as smooth as the morning light filtering through the windows. he’s leaning against the counter, his smile easy but warm, like he remembers you, and that makes your stomach flip a little. you try to act casual, but your words stumble out. “morning… uh, just the cappuccino please.”

“of course, i remember,” he chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that makes your heart soften. he’s so effortlessly kind, and it hits you a little harder than expected, making the air between you feel softer, more familiar.

as he prepares your drink, you can’t help but notice the little things—the way his hands move with purpose, yet they’re gentle, precise. when he hums to himself as he works, you catch yourself listening more intently, savoring the moment. you wonder if he always has this effect on people, or if it’s just you.

when he slides the cappuccino across the counter toward you, there’s that small moment again—his fingers brush against yours, light and almost fleeting, but the feeling lingers, like something unspoken. “here you go, have a great day!” beomgyu says, his eyes meeting yours again, and for a moment, everything feels still.

“thank you,” you murmur, a little shy, a little more self-aware than usual, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. you walk to a table, feeling the heat from your drink and from the gentle attention you’ve been getting from him.

over the next few days, you found yourself in the café more often than you mean to. it starts with little things—a smile, a laugh, the warmth of his presence filling the space whenever you enter. you can’t quite put your finger on it, but each time you see beomgyu, there’s this soft, almost electric feeling in your chest that keeps you coming back. “how’s your day going?” he asks one morning, leaning closer to the counter, his eyes bright with curiosity. you feel the familiar rush of butterflies in your stomach as you answer, and somehow, even the smallest of exchanges makes you feel a little lighter.

“pretty good actually, just the usual,” you respond with a smile, trying to act cool, though your heart is racing a little faster than it should.

beomgyu gives you that knowing smile again, the one that makes your knees feel weak. “i'm glad to hear that! if you need anything else, i’m here,” he adds, and the way he says it feels… different this time, like there’s something more beneath the surface.

over the next few visits, you start noticing small things—the way he remembers your name, the way he greets you like he’s genuinely happy to see you. and it’s not just the coffee anymore; it’s the quiet moments between you, the way you both linger just a little longer each time you speak. you catch yourself smiling to yourself when you’re walking away, your heart swelling a little bit more with each passing day. then, one morning, as you approach the counter, beomgyu slides a pastry next to your drink without you even asking. you blink in surprise, your heart skipping a beat as you stare at the delicate pastry he’s just placed in front of you.

“here,” he says smoothly, his voice warm, almost like it’s a secret shared only between the two of you. “for our most loyal customer.”

you’re caught off guard, unsure whether to laugh or melt into a puddle. your lips curl into a shy smile as you look up at him, surprised by the kindness—and maybe the hint of something else in his voice.

“what?” you laugh softly, raising an eyebrow, “i didn’t order that, though..”

“you didn’t have to,” he replies, his smile soft and knowing, like he’s been paying attention to all the little things about you. “you’ve been coming here every day. thought you deserved a treat.”

there’s something in the way beomgyu says it, something that feels more personal, more thoughtful than just a simple gesture. it makes your heart flutter, and for a second, you’re not sure if it’s the sweetness of the pastry or the sweetness of his words that makes your cheeks heat up.

“why, thank you,” you say, feeling a little shy but undeniably touched. you take a small bite of the pastry, and the sweetness was almost enough to make your heart race, but it’s the way he’s watching you—patient, interested—that truly has your heart fluttering.

“how is it?” he asks, his tone casual, but his eyes never leave you, watching intently as you savor the bite.

you look up at him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “it’s perfect,” you reply, feeling your chest warm in more ways than one.

beomgyu’s smile grows a little, and he leans against the counter, his presence filling the space between you both. there’s a small, shared moment of silence, and you’re left wondering if he’s feeling the same way—that strange, undeniable pull that’s slowly building between you two.

as you continue to visit the café over the next few days, the pastries continue. each time, he seems to know exactly what to offer, like he’s learned your preferences by heart. one day it’s a soft cinnamon roll that he claims is “extra special today,” and the next it’s a delicate almond cookie that you don’t even know you’d wanted until he suggests it.

it’s not just the pastries that stand out, though. it’s the way he makes sure to slide your coffee over with a smile that’s just a little more genuine each time, the way his hand brushes yours ever so slightly when handing you your order. you can’t help but notice the subtle things—the way his eyes linger just a little longer than they should, the way he seems to always find an excuse to keep talking to you.

one afternoon, you’re sipping your coffee by the window, watching the world outside, when beomgyu leans over the counter, his voice lowering as he speaks to you.

“just made a fresh batch of croissants,” he says, his eyes twinkling with something mischievous. “i think you’ll really like them.”

you raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “oh? you think so?” you tease lightly, glancing up at him. there’s something so endearing about how he’s trying to impress you with something so simple, yet it feels like a small, intimate moment shared between you two.

“oh, i know so,” beomgyu replies, his voice light and playful. he looks at you with a hint of mischief, and you can’t help but feel your heart skip a little faster. it’s not just the words, it’s the way he says them, the way his eyes sparkle with a knowing glint, as if he’s already certain that you’ll like whatever he’s offering.

“well, i’ll take your word for it,” you reply, your smile softening. “thanks.”

beomgyu slides the warm croissant toward you, his fingers brushing the edge of the pastry just lightly before pulling away. you can’t help but notice how he lingers, his gaze fixed on you, almost as if he’s waiting for your reaction. you take the croissant carefully, the golden flaky layers crumbling slightly as you break off a piece. the warm, buttery scent envelops you, and with your first bite, you feel the soft, rich texture melt in your mouth. it was perfect—the sweet, delicate flavor that you didn’t even know you were craving, and as you chew, you can feel the warmth spreading through you. it’s not just the pastry that’s making your heart race, though. you glance up at him, noticing that he’s watching you intently, his eyes a little wider, as if he’s holding his breath, waiting for you to speak. it’s the kind of look that makes your stomach flip, like he’s unsure whether you’ll like it or not, but he wants you to.

“this is…” you pause, savoring another bite, “amazing,” you finally say, your voice quieter this time, a soft smile curving your lips. you’re not just complimenting the pastry anymore, you realize.

“i’m glad you like it,” he says, his voice a little softer now, almost shy. his eyes flicker to yours, and you can feel the weight of his gaze, the way it lingers a fraction longer than usual. there’s something more here, something unspoken that passes between you both in the quiet of the café. too lost in the taste, you don’t even realize there was a delicate crumb on the corner of your lips until beomgyu’s gaze drops, focusing on your mouth. his hand moves before his mind seems to catch up, reaching out gently, his thumb brushing the corner of your lips, swiping away the tiny remnant of pastry. the touch was featherlight, his skin warm against yours, and the unexpected intimacy of it makes your breath hitch. his eyes widen slightly as he realizes what he’s done, his thumb still lingering close to your mouth, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin.

“s-sorry…! there was…” his voice trails off, and he looks almost as flustered as you feel, a rosy tint coloring his cheeks as he quickly pulls his hand back. “crumb…” he finishes, his gaze darting away, but there’s a small, bashful smile pulling at his lips that makes your heart twist in the sweetest way.

“thanks,” you murmur, your own cheeks warming with a blush you can’t quite hide. the air between you shifts, a new layer of awareness settling in, making the moment stretch longer, deeper. and his sweetness didn't stop there. it started happening more often—small, thoughtful gestures that make your heart stir in ways you’re not quite ready to admit. little things, quiet things, but they settle into your chest like warmth spreading through your fingertips, like the first sip of coffee he made on a chilly morning. one afternoon, you’re hunched over your table, forehead resting against your palm as you stare at the endless pages of study material in front of you. the words blur together, your highlighter poised but unmoving, frustration pressing into your temples. your coffee sits untouched beside you, long forgotten, the steam no longer curling from the rim. with a tired sigh, you rub your temple, your free hand tugging absentmindedly at the edge of your sleeve.

then, out of nowhere, a plate slides onto the table in front of you.

your breath catches, startled by the sudden presence of something new amidst your sea of notes and papers. you blink, momentarily confused, before your gaze lands on a small slice of cake sitting neatly on a ceramic plate. delicate layers of sponge and cream, dusted lightly with powdered sugar, topped with a single, perfectly ripe strawberry. it looks almost too pretty to eat, like something out of a display case rather than a last-minute kindness.

but what truly made your heart stutter was the tiny yellow post-it pressed gently against the edge of the plate.

good luck! i know you can do it!

beneath the words, there was a small, round bear doodle, its arms raised in encouragement, as if cheering you on from the sidelines.

your lips part slightly, caught between surprise and gratitude. you reach for the note with careful fingers, peeling it away like it’s something delicate, something you want to keep. your eyes lift instinctively, searching for him, and sure enough, beomgyu stood behind the counter, absentmindedly wiping down a tray, but his attention was on you.

the moment your gazes meet, he doesn’t look away. he doesn’t smirk, doesn’t tease—he just smiles, small and knowing, like he’s glad you noticed, like he doesn’t expect anything in return.

your chest tightens, a breath catching somewhere between your ribs.

you duck your head, trying to hide the way your lips curve upward as you tuck the post-it safely between the pages of your book. picking up your fork, you take a bite of the cake, and somehow, the taste feels richer, the flavors sinking into your tongue like warmth itself.

but that was just the start. one morning, when you pick up your usual coffee, something immediately catches your eye. the foam wasn't just smooth and swirled like usual, no, nestled right in the center is a tiny, delicate heart, drawn so subtly that it almost disappears the moment you tilt the cup. your fingers tighten around the sleeve, the heat from the drink seeping into your skin. you glance up instinctively, and there he was, standing behind the counter like always, completely occupied with the espresso machine. or at least, pretending to be. beomgyu's head was slightly turned, watching—waiting—for your reaction, though his hands continue their practiced motions, adjusting knobs and pressing buttons with casual ease.

the moment your gaze meets his, he looks away. just a fraction too fast.

the next time, it wasn't just a heart.

you got this!

the words werescrawled across the side of your cup in his familiar, slightly slanted handwriting, the exclamation mark punctuated with a tiny, grinning bear doodle. your fingers hesitate for a moment before grazing over the ink, tracing the shape of the little bear as a small, involuntary smile tugs at your lips.

he’s never written on your cup before.

your eyes lift almost instinctively, seeking him out, and sure enough—beomgyu was already looking at you from behind the counter. he’s pretending to wipe down the counter, but the smug tilt of his lips betrays him.

“cute bear,” you murmur, lifting the cup slightly as you meet his gaze.

his brows lift, feigning confusion. “hmm?”

you nod toward the cup. “the one you drew.”

“huh.” beomgyu leans against the counter, tapping his chin as if deep in thought. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

you roll your eyes, though you can’t hide the way your fingers tighten around the cup, like you’re holding onto something fleeting, something precious.

then there’s the day he spells your name wrong.

not in the way baristas usually do—an honest mistake, a simple mishearing. no, this was very much on purpose.

you stare down at your cup, brows furrowing at the ridiculous, utterly incorrect jumble of letters scribbled across the surface.

“really?” you deadpan, lifting an unimpressed gaze toward him.

beomgyu grins, slow and wide, the kind of grin that spells trouble, one eyebrow quirking in amusement. “oops,” he says, resting his chin in his palm, eyes twinkling with mischief.

you narrow your eyes. “oops?”

he nods, unbothered. “must’ve misheard you.”

“you spelled it right yesterday. and the day before that. and the week before that.”

he gasps, hand flying to his chest in exaggerated offense. “are you accusing me of something?”

you take a slow, deliberate sip of your coffee, not breaking eye contact.

his smirk deepens, but then—just as you’re about to turn away— “… thanks, though,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear.

and he does.

because his smile falters for just a second, something softer, something almost shy flickering across his face before he covers it up with another teasing grin. then on a particularly dreary evening, when the sky split open with rain and the wind howls against the buildings, you push open the café door, the small bell jingling softly above you. droplets cling to your sleeves, your hair damp from the unexpected downpour, and despite your best efforts, your clothes were thoroughly soaked.

beomgyu looks up the moment you step inside. his usual playful greeting dies on his lips, replaced by a flicker of concern. without a word, he disappears into the back, his apron swaying slightly as he moves. you barely have time to register his absence before he returns, something folded neatly in his hands.

a clean, fluffy towel.

he hands it to you like it’s second nature, like this is something he would’ve done regardless of who walked through that door. but you can feel the difference—the softness of the fabric, the way it’s still warm, like he pulled it fresh from somewhere just for you.

“you’ll catch a cold like that,” beomgyu murmurs, propping an elbow against the counter as he watches you pat down your damp sleeves. his voice is gentle, but there was something almost scolding beneath the words, something fond.

you let out a small, sheepish laugh, pushing away your damp hair with the edge of the towel. “i didn’t expect it to rain… and i don't really own umbrellas, so..” you mumble, voice quieter than usual.

beomgyu hums, shaking his head lightly, an amused sort of fondness flickering in his eyes. he doesn’t say anything else, just lets you dry off at your own pace, and when you finally return the towel with a grateful smile, he takes it without hesitation, like it was never an inconvenience in the first place.

the next time you visit, the rain has long since stopped, the streets drying beneath the weak afternoon sun. but when you settle into your usual seat, something unfamiliar catches your eye.

tucked neatly against the chair, as if it had always been there, is a small, folded umbrella. a sticky note rests on the handle.

just in case. :)

there’s no name. no signature. but the handwriting was unmistakable—slightly slanted, the letters round in a way that feels familiar.

and you didn't need to guess who left it. but your sweet routine was soon disrupted though. the morning rush hits like a wave, and you were caught in its current. the alarm blares louder than usual, dragging you out of bed faster than you'd like. the clock blinks a terrifyingly late hour, and you scramble to get dressed, brush your teeth, grab your things—anything to make it out the door on time.

you were running late, leaving you no time for the comforting morning stop at the café. you grab your things in a rush, throwing a jacket over your shoulders, your bag slung messily across your body. as you rush out the door, you can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment in the pit of your stomach. you had been looking forward to seeing beomgyu, the thought of his soft smile and the warmth of your usual drink always adding a little extra brightness to your mornings.

but today, it wasn’t meant to be.

still, as you rush through your classes, his face keeps popping into your thoughts. there were moments when you caught yourself smiling, thinking about his little jokes, the way he always makes sure to ask if your coffee’s to your liking. and then there were the fleeting moments when you'd remember the feeling of his gaze on you, how it lingers a little longer than you expect.

it’s silly, you tell yourself. he’s just being nice, right?

but then, your heart betrays you again, fluttering a little faster as you recall the sound of his voice, the way he’d tease you so effortlessly. it’s hard not to feel the small stirrings of something more, something that you can’t quite place. back at the café, beomgyu finds himself glancing toward the door more often than he cares to admit, a soft frown tugging at his lips each time it doesn’t swing open. his mind wanders, his usual focus slipping as the minutes stretch on, each one feeling longer than the last.

he’d noticed you weren’t there that morning, and it had been bothering him more than he would’ve liked to admit. usually, you’d walk in with that soft smile of yours, maybe a joke or two about the day ahead, but today—nothing. the absence of your usual routine feels strange, like a missing piece he hadn’t realized was so important until it was gone.

his hand moves to adjust the espresso machine, but it feels clumsier than usual, as though his thoughts were tangled with the same energy that swirls in the foam he’s trying to perfect. his fingers slip on the cup, almost knocking it over, and he pauses, taking a breath to steady himself.

it’s just one morning, beomgyu tries to convince himself, but the thought doesn’t settle. there was a quiet, persistent worry gnawing at him. his mind races. he wonders if something happened, if you just had a busy morning. he wonders if he’d done something wrong—if he’d said something that might’ve made you not want to come in. his gaze flickers back to the door, the hope of seeing you there quickly replaced by the sinking feeling that maybe you wouldn’t show up at all.

he sighs, wiping a hand over his face as he leans against the counter.

a few, agonizing hours later, you glance at the clock as your last class finally wraps up, the familiar weight of the day’s exhaustion settling into your bones. but there’s something else tugging at you, a quiet pull that urges you to make your way to the café. you can’t shake the feeling that you need to see him, to catch that last sliver of the day before it slips away.

there’s a fleeting hope in your chest, a hope that maybe, just maybe, he would still be there. you hurry through the campus, your steps quickening as the cold night air nips at your skin. your thoughts are scattered, your mind drifting between assignments, thoughts of the morning, and, of course, beomgyu.

by the time you reached the café, you were almost breathless, your heart beating a little faster than usual. you push open the door, the familiar chime ringing through the quiet space, and you freeze for just a moment.

and there he was

beomgyu was behind the counter as always, wiping down the last of the espresso machine with his back to you. the soft hum of the machine is the only sound in the room as he moves, his motions deliberate, like he’s trying to finish up for the night but something—someone—was keeping him here a little longer.

you hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should interrupt or just slip out quietly, but then he hears the door open, his head turning toward you with that smile that makes your heart leap in your chest.

“you’re here,” he says, his voice softer than usual, like he’s surprised to see you after the day you’ve both had. his gaze holds yours a moment longer than it needs to, his eyes catching on yours in that familiar, lingering way that always seems to make you forget how to breathe.

he looks... relieved.

you feel that same flutter in your chest, your nerves buzzing from the way he’s looking at you, like he’d been waiting for this moment too. without thinking, you find yourself smiling a little wider. “i didn’t want to miss seeing you today,” the moment they’re out, your breath catches in your throat. what did i just say? it feels like the room falls completely still, like everything has paused for just a second. your face burns instantly, a deep, flushed heat spreading across your cheeks, and you can’t stop yourself from mentally cringing. oh no, that came out way too—but then, beomgyu’s face shifts ever so slightly. his eyebrows raise, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. you can almost see the moment he processes your words, like his brain is trying to catch up with what just happened. he stands frozen for a heartbeat, as if unsure of how to respond.

and then, almost without thinking, he steps closer, his voice soft but undeniably sincere. “i…” he trails off, his gaze dropping for a second before meeting yours again. there’s an almost sheepish quality to his smile as he shifts his weight, his fingers nervously tapping against the counter. “i didn’t want to miss seeing you either,” he says, and his voice is quieter now, a little unsure but genuine.

your heart does a little flip, and for a second, the air between you both feels thick with something unexpressed, yet shared. the words were simple, but there’s a vulnerability to them, like you both opened up without meaning to. beomgyu clears his throat, shifting slightly, but you notice the way his fingers were trembling just a little as he adjusts the cloth in his hands. it’s the kind of nervous energy you recognize in yourself too, the same shy warmth you both feel in each other’s presence.

“so… how was your day? uh, i mean, not that you have to tell me. but, you know—did you—did you get up to anything fun? i noticed you weren’t here this morning, and i… uh, just…” he trails off, the words spilling out faster than he can control. “i was, uh, wondering if everything was okay? did something happen? you didn’t—um, you didn’t have time to swing by, or—uh, maybe you just didn’t feel like it? or—”

he stops suddenly, his eyes wide with embarrassment, realizing he’s been rambling. his hand moves to the back of his neck in that familiar gesture, the same bashful movement you’ve come to recognize in him. “sorry… i’m just, uh, rambling. didn’t mean to… go on like that.”

you can’t help but laugh softly, the sound light and warm, and it instantly makes his face turn pink. “no, it’s okay,” you say with a small chuckle, trying to reassure him. “i didn’t come by because i, uh, got caught up with some stuff at uni. i was running late and just… didn’t have time to swing by this morning, that’s all.”

beomgyu nods slowly, relief washing over his face as he lets out a quiet breath. “ah, i see…” he murmurs, and there’s another beat of silence, the tension between you two settling into something quieter, more comfortable. you then break the silence, your voice soft but curious. “so, um, are you closing soon?” he looks up, his eyes lighting up a little as he remembers the time. “ah, right, yeah…” he says, glancing around the almost-empty café. “i was about to start cleaning up, actually…” he looks back at you, a small, unsure smile tugging at his lips. you shift awkwardly, feeling the weight of his gaze on you as you try to offer a smile. “if it’s not too much trouble… i don’t mind waiting. i can, uh, keep you company while you finish up,” you say, your words coming out a bit more hesitant than you intended.

beomgyu’s expression softens even further, a small smile tugging at his lips as he looks at you. “you’d do that?” he asks, his voice quiet but filled with something genuine, something appreciative.

you nod, trying to ease the slight tension you’re both feeling. “yeah, of course. i don’t mind,” you reply, your voice warmer now, a little more confident in the offer. the idea of spending more time with him, even in the quiet space of the café, feels comfortable. natural, almost.

his eyes flickered with surprise, then melted into a small, shy grin. “well, in that case… i’d really like that,” he says softly, and there’s a softness in his tone that makes your heart flutter more than you’d like to admit.

as beomgyu begins wiping down the counter, the sound of the rag against the wood fills the quiet café, but there was something soothing about it. the atmosphere between you two had shifted, the awkwardness melting away, replaced by a mutual understanding.

he casually glances over at you, his eyes soft, and you find yourself easing into the rhythm of the moment. the gentle hum of the espresso machine still lingers in the background, and the quietness of the café feels oddly intimate now. it’s just the two of you, and for the first time in a while, it feels like time has slowed down.

you both start talking about your usuals, banter flowing effortlessly between you. you laugh at his silly jokes, the kind that seem to roll off his tongue without any effort, and he grins at your reactions, eyes sparkling with a joyful glint. the sound of your shared laughter fills the air, light and genuine. there’s no rush, no pressure to say anything in particular—just the soft cadence of two people enjoying the quiet connection between them.

"i saw that movie you mentioned last week," beomgyu says, his tone casual as he dries the cups, but his eyes flicker over to you, awaiting your response. "it was way better than i expected."

you smile, nodding. "i knew you’d like it! i was practically bouncing in my seat the whole time." the memory makes you laugh softly, and beomgyu chuckles along with you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, that familiar warmth present in his expression.

"yeah, i could tell," he teases lightly. "you were so into it, you probably didn’t even notice when the popcorn started spilling."

you laugh again, shaking your head. "hey, that's not true! well... maybe just a little bit... but it was totally worth it."

the comfortable back-and-forth continues, and the more you talk, the more natural it feels. you realize how easy it is to be with him—how effortlessly the conversation flows. beomgyu listens intently, his smile never quite leaving his face. you, in turn, find yourself talking more freely, your words coming quicker now, as if the walls you hadn’t even realized you put up were slowly crumbling.

as the minutes ticked by, you both seemed to settle into the quiet ease of the moment, the kind where you don’t have to worry about saying the right thing. the soft clinking of dishes, the occasional hum of the fridge, and your shared laughter fill the space, making the café feel like your own little world.

as beomgyu wipes down the last of the counters and sets everything back in place, the realization settles in—the night was truly winding down. you watch as he moves with practiced ease, stacking chairs, flipping the sign on the door to closed, and turning off the glowing menu board behind the counter. the once-lively café has now quieted into something more intimate, bathed in the soft glow of the streetlights filtering through the windows.

you linger near the door, the warmth of his presence still wrapped around you even as he finishes tidying up. when he finally steps out from behind the counter, he stretches his arms above his head with a tired but satisfied sigh, his sweater riding up slightly in the process. you look away quickly, swallowing the sudden flustered feeling creeping up your neck.

"all done," he announces, running a hand through his hair, making it fluffier than before. he looks over at you with a small, almost reluctant smile. “guess it’s time to head out.”

you nod, though there’s a quiet hesitation between you both, like neither of you really want to leave just yet. still, you step outside together, the cool night air brushing against your skin as beomgyu locks up the café behind him. the street was quieter now, the usual buzz of the day replaced by the occasional passing car and the distant hum of the city settling in for the night.

you turn to him, shifting slightly on your feet. “well… thanks for letting me keep you company,” you say softly, offering a small smile. “i’ll see you tomorrow?”

beomgyu looks at you for a beat longer than necessary, his lips pressing together before curling into something shy and thoughtful. “yeah… see you tomorrow,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t move, his fingers still loosely holding onto the keys in his hand.

you hesitate too, caught in the strange, quiet space between goodbye and something else. and then, just as you were about to turn, beomgyu shifts on his feet, sucking in a small breath before blurting out, “wait.”

you blink up at him, surprised. "yeah?"

he clears his throat, suddenly looking uncharacteristically shy as he scratches the back of his neck. "uh, are you… walking home?” his voice is casual, but there’s something tentative underneath, something unsure.

you tilt your head slightly, nodding. “i am, why...?”

beomgyu lets out a breath, as if he’d just made up his mind about something. “then—” he pauses, shifting again, fingers fidgeting with the strap of his bag. “let me walk you home.”

your heart stutters in your chest.

you stare at him, caught off guard by the unexpected offer, and beomgyu, ever so slightly, begins to fidget under your gaze. "i mean—" he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck. “only if you want me to! if you’d rather walk alone, that’s totally fine! i just—y’know, it’s late, and you were rushing this morning, so i figured you probably had a long day and—”

he’s rambling again, words tumbling over themselves in his rush to explain, but there’s something endearing about it, something warm about the way he’s trying so hard not to make this feel like a big deal. and maybe it isn’t—to him, maybe it’s just him being considerate. but to you, the offer lingers in the air, heavier than just a simple walk home.

you find yourself smiling, something soft and fond curling in your chest. “i’d like that,” you say quietly, and the way his expression shifts—relief flickering across his face, followed by something almost bashful—makes your heart skip a beat.

“yeah?” he asks, as if he hadn’t expected you to agree so easily.

“yeah.. i really would..” you nod, and beomgyu presses his lips together to hide the growing smile threatening to spread across his face.

“okay,” he breathes out, glancing ahead before turning back to you. “then… let’s go.”

and so, the two of you fall into step, walking side by side under the glow of the streetlights. the air between you was lighter now, tinged with something warm and comfortable, and though neither of you said it out loud, there was an unspoken understanding lingering in the quiet spaces between your footsteps.

the night air feels softer than usual, the quiet hum of the city settling around you like a warm embrace. each step you took beside beomgyu feels slower, more deliberate—the way your arms sway just slightly too close, the way the sound of your footsteps seems to sync up in a steady rhythm, the way neither of you seem to be in any real rush to get anywhere. his presence beside you was warm, almost grounding, and yet, there was something just barely there; a tension that isn’t quite awkward, but isn’t entirely absent either. it lingers in the spaces between words, in the pauses that stretch just a little too long, in the way you catch him glancing at you before quickly looking away.

beomgyu clears his throat after a moment, the sound small but noticeable in the hush of the evening. “so… do you live close?” he asks, his voice carrying that usual casual lilt, yet it also held just the tiniest bit of hesitance. you glance at him, catching the way his head tilts slightly, his eyes soft in the dim light. he’s watching you, waiting—not impatiently, not expectantly, just curiously, like he genuinely wants to know, like he’s trying to hold onto the conversation for as long as he can.

“yeah,” you answer, voice light but honest. “not too far, actually. just a few more blocks.” beomgyu hums in acknowledgment, nodding slightly as his gaze flickers to the sidewalk ahead. he shifts a little, stuffing his hands deeper into the pockets of his hoodie, and for a moment, it feels like that should be the end of it. just a casual exchange, a small piece of information shared and then left behind. but you find yourself glancing at him again, feeling the question lingering on your tongue before you even fully process the thought. “what about you?”

he lets out a quiet, almost amused breath, as if he wasn’t expecting you to ask. then, with a small shake of his head, he admits, “kind of far, honestly... i usually take the bus home.” you frown slightly, your steps slowing just a little. “then… won’t you miss the last bus?”

beomgyu pauses for half a second before waving a dismissive hand. “no worries, i’ll be fine. there’s a late-night one that still runs. besides…” he sneaks a glance at you, his voice quieter now, “this is the longest i’ve ever spent time with you, anyway.” your breath catches, just for a second, and suddenly, the night air feels heavier, thicker, charged with something neither of you fully acknowledge but both undeniably feel.

beomgyu doesn’t look at you after saying it, doesn’t give any indication that he’s aware of how deeply his words just affected you. but you see it—the way his fingers twitch slightly where they’re tucked into his hoodie, the way the tips of his ears, barely visible beneath his hair, grow a faint shade darker under the streetlights. he’s nervous, you realize, and the thought makes something warm bloom in your chest.

neither of you spoke immediately after that, letting the moment stretch between you, the silence thick but not uncomfortable. the city continues on around you, distant sounds of traffic somewhere far away, but here, in this quiet little bubble of time, it feels like it was just the two of you.

and then, after a beat, beomgyu clears his throat, breaking the silence with a soft but distinct exhale. “so, um… i was actually kinda worried when you didn’t show up today.”

you blink, surprised by the sudden vulnerability in his voice, and turn to him fully. his words catch you off guard, like a quiet breeze that brushes past unexpectedly. “worried?” you ask, your voice soft, the question almost coming out as a whisper. beomgyu nods, a slight blush coloring his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck, his eyes flickering to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. “yeah,” he admits, his voice quieter now, “i mean… i know you don’t have to come in every morning or anything, but…” he trails off for a moment, as if trying to find the right way to phrase it. “it just felt weird not seeing you,” he finally says, and the simplicity of it hits you, but it’s also layered with something more—something soft and real that you didn’t expect. beomgyu suddenly exhales, dragging a hand through his hair in a familiar gesture, almost as if he’s trying to smooth over the awkwardness that’s starting to creep in. “god, listen to me,” he chuckles, looking down at his shoes like they’re the most fascinating thing in the world. “i sound so—i dunno. i really thought maybe something happened. or—or maybe you got tired of the coffee.” you smile, feeling a warmth bubble up in your chest at the thought of him being concerned, at the idea that he missed your presence even a little. it felt good, almost comforting. shaking your head, you meet his gaze and reassure him softly, “definitely not tired of the coffee.”

beomgyu gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offense, and for a moment, the tension between you two lightens. his expression shifts into something playful, teasing. “so just tired of me, then? great,” he quips, his lips curling into a grin, his eyes sparkling with the same mischievous energy he always has.

you roll your eyes, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “i told you, i overslept, dummy.” you tease back, a small laugh escaping you at the way his face contorts in exaggerated surprise. “right...” beomgyu mutters, his voice lighter now. his eyes flicker over to you for a brief moment, a small but genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. then, after a beat, he groans, dragging a hand down his face in frustration, his fingers tugging at his hair as if he’s mortified by himself. “god, i rambled again, didn’t i?” he mutters, his voice sounding a little defeated, but there’s a humorous edge to it, like he’s simultaneously amused and embarrassed by how he’s acting. you grin wider, not able to help yourself as you watch him. it’s almost endearing, seeing him so flustered and out of his element. “you kinda did, yeah.” you tease, your tone light but affectionate, knowing exactly what he’s feeling. beomgyu groans even louder this time, as if the embarrassment was too much for him to bear, dramatically tossing his head back with a sigh. “honestly.. why do i keep doing this around you?” his words were laced with a humor that was so raw and real, but there was an underlying vulnerability to it too. and that's when it happens—before you even have time to think, before you can stop yourself, the words slip from your lips as if they’ve always been there, just waiting for the right moment. “maybe it’s because you like me.” the moment the words leave your mouth, time seemed to have stopped. oh god, no. you freeze, a wave of panic crashing over you as you realize what you just said, your heart practically thundering in your chest. beomgyu’s reaction was almost instantaneous—he freezes too, his breath catching in his throat, his steps faltering, and when you glance up at him, his wide eyes meet yours. he looks stunned, like his brain needs a moment to catch up, his mouth opening slightly like he’s about to say something—but then nothing comes out. you can’t look away from him, your breath stuck in your throat as you process what just happened. oh my god, i just said that, you think, panicking. your heart races, your chest tightens, and before you can think of anything to say to backtrack, he just stands there, blinking at you as if he’s trying to understand the weight of your words. but then, out of nowhere, beomgyu speaks, his words tumbling out before he could think. “do you wanna go on a date with me?” now it was your turn to freeze. what? the words were almost absurd in their suddenness, completely unexpected, and you can feel the ground beneath you shift as if the world itself just stopped turning. it takes a second for your brain to even process what he just said. there’s a full moment of stunned silence before your heart stops completely, and in that moment, all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears and the soft thrum of your pulse. beomgyu, bless him, doesn’t seem to realize what he just did. he’s standing there, red as a tomato, his hands fumbling with his hoodie as he tries to make himself smaller, as if he could physically hide from the mess he’s just made of himself. his eyes were wide, the embarrassment practically radiating off him, but still—still, he doesn’t backtrack.

then, out of nowhere, he speaks. beomgyu’s words tumble out like he's trying to catch up with himself, his voice shaky. “w-wait, no, i—i didn’t mean it like that,” he stammers, his hands nervously twitching at his sides, unsure of whether to shove them in his pockets or rub them together. “i mean... like... uh... that sounded so much less—i mean... you know what i mean, right? it wasn’t supposed to sound like... like that—i wasn’t—i mean, i do like you but like—oh god—” the way his words crash into each other, barely making sense but all spilling out in one chaotic rush, only makes you smile. it was impossible not to. the sight of him, so flustered, trying to explain himself while stumbling over every word, was so endearing that you couldn’t help but laugh softly. the moment was so... him—so sweetly awkward, it made your heart flutter even more. beomgyu swallows hard, and you can practically see the nerves radiating off him. he grips the hem of his hoodie again, as if it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. his eyes were fixed on you, waiting for something, anything—his words a breathless jumble. “maybe you already knew that, or—or maybe i just embarrassed myself completely, but if you feel the same way... uh... y’know... would you wanna, like, you know, go on a date with me?” every single word beomgyu said was wrapped up in vulnerability, but there was still something undeniably hopeful in his eyes, something that made the tension in the air grow even thicker, as if the world was holding its breath with you.

and before either of you could take another breath, you just do it. without thinking, without hesitation, you lean in—fast—and pressed a soft, quick kiss to his cheek, right there in the middle of the street, in the quiet of the night. it was light, quick, and maybe a little impulsive—but it was enough. it was everything.

beomgyu stills, eyes wide, his entire body stiffening for a moment, before his hands slowly creep up to his cheek where your lips just were, as if he’s trying to figure out if it really happened. his face was so red, you think it might burst, and the awkwardness that settles in the moment was palpable, but it was also beautiful.

“there,” you say, your voice a little softer than before, your smile warm and genuine. “that’s your answer.”

beomgyu doesn’t say anything at first. his mind clearly short-circuiting as his fingers hover over his cheek, still in disbelief that you actually did that. it takes him a full moment to process what just happened before he lets out a strangled, breathless laugh, eyes still wide.

“wait, does this mean—is that a yes…?” he asks meekly, his voice a little more unsure this time, the words tumbling out in a rush as he tries to piece it all together.

you can’t help but laugh softly at how sweetly flustered beomgyu was, the corners of your lips curving into a gentle smile. “mhm,” you answer, your voice soft and teasing, like you’re savoring the moment. you try your best to hide the warmth that rushes to your cheeks, but it was impossible when he looked at you like that, with such a mix of relief, hope, and something else—something that made your chest tighten with a quiet excitement.

“i would love to go on a date with you, gyu,” you add, and the words come so naturally now, like they’ve been waiting to slip out for ages. there was no hesitation, just the soft certainty of it all.

beomgyu’s eyes widen, and his smile, though shy, spreads across his face like sunlight breaking through clouds. it was slow at first, but then it deepens, his entire face lighting up with a happiness so pure, it almost makes you forget how to breathe. he then lets out a breath after a moment, a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, something light and nervous. “so… uh, when do we… uh… go on this date, then?” he asks, his voice soft but uncertain.

you couldn't help but smile, feeling the warmth of the moment settle in your chest. without thinking, you suggest, “how about tomorrow?” beomgyu falters for just a second as he processes your words. his eyebrows knit together slightly, his lips parting as if he’s about to say something, but nothing comes out at first. he blinks a few times, clearly taken aback by the quickness of your offer.

“wait—tomorrow?” he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, and for a moment, he looks almost stunned by the suddenness of it all. there was something undeniably adorable about the way he’s trying to catch up with the pace of your words.

you bite your lip, feeling the nerves creep up your spine, but you don’t back down. “yeah,” you say with a playful shrug, trying to sound casual, like suggesting tomorrow as a date wasn't the most nerve-wracking thing you’ve ever done. “why wait when we could just… go ahead and do it, right?” beomgyu looks at you for a long moment, his mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to process what just happened. then, slowly, as if the weight of your suggestion has finally registered, his lips curl up into a shy, crooked smile. “that is true, yeah,” he says, his voice shaky but filled with that same eagerness that makes your heart skip a beat. “tomorrow sounds.. perfect. yeah. let’s do that.” you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, the excitement swirling in your chest. “it’s a date, then,” you say, your grin spreading wider, the words feeling so right as they leave your mouth.

beomgyu’s face was still flushed, and you can see his hands twitching at his sides, like he doesn’t know what to do with them. he laughs nervously, the sound filling the quiet street around you. “yeah, tomorrow,” he repeats, as if saying it out loud helps solidify the reality of it all.

then, without a word, he reaches his hand toward you. it was a simple gesture, but in that moment, it felt like everything you could ask for and more. you looked at his hand for just a second, a tiny flutter of nervousness in your chest, before you reach out, your fingers brushing against his.

beomgyu’s hand closes around yours, the warmth of his skin sending a quiet thrill through you. there’s a sense of quiet satisfaction, of happiness shared in the simplest touch, and you both fall into step side by side, fingers intertwined. the world feels a little quieter, a little softer, as you walk together into the night, the promise of tomorrow’s date lingering between you.

꒰🧸꒱ @pagelets @jettithink @killa-1009 @j-ji-jia @frankghgr @dawngyu @usuallyunlikelyfox @sxmmerberries @napipope-ta @bamgeutori @xylatox @hyunj00 <3 (click here if you want to be added !! ^^)

#꒰☁️꒱ anon .ᐟ #choi beomgyu #beomgyu #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu imagines #txt x reader #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt soft hours #beomgyu soft hours

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freddleafton12345-blog · 4 months ago

Text

Small nsfw fic w/ Knuckles mwehehe (reader is female and can be mobian, or human!)

You felt the waves of pleasure roll across your body as your partner lapped at your lower regions, as if he was starving.

"Ahh~! Knuckles slow down-" You firmly gripped his quills, feeling the soft yet rough texture on your fingers.

He paused his actions, looking up at you with concern in his magenta eyes. "My dear, are you in pain?"

"N-no but you're going a bit hard. Try not to use your teeth, silly.." you panted with a hazy smile across your face.

"As you command, my queen." The warrior gave you a nod, then he continued to eat you out. He guided your legs to rest over his shoulders, and he gripped your waist.

Your moans only got louder as you felt your high approaching quickly. This felt way too good. And you couldn't be happier to lose your virginity to your partner.

"Fuck~! I'm close~! More, give me more~!!" You screamed.

Knuckles pulled his muzzle away from your slick folds and licked his lips. "If that's what you truly want, I'll gladly oblige." He smirked a bit.

You helped him align his huge member between your folds, then you looked up at him.

Sensing your hesitation, the Echidna leaned down and put a gentle kiss upon your forehead. "Hush now, my dear. I'll make you feel all the pleasure you desire."

Once you gave him a small nod, he gently pushed himself into you with a low groan, gritting his teeth. You moaned and your eyes rolled back as the feeling of ecstacy grew.

The moment he began thrusting is when you lost it, wrapping your arms around him to bring him closer as you moaned like a whore.

"Ahh..my l-love..your body is a magnificent temple!" Knuckles groaned and held you closely, careful not to crush you with his gloved hands.

"Feels g-good! So g-!" You managed to get a hold of yourself when you heard the low sound of the garage door opening.

Oh God's, it was Tom and Maddie! They must've brought the boys home from dinning out earlier than they said they would!

"Knuckles~! Hurry-" You didn't want to delay your release, and you didn't want the family seeing or hearing this.

With a firm nod, the warrior trusted faster and harder, just bringing you to your climax as the front doors opened.

"AYOOO! WE'RE BACK! AND TAILS AND I BROUGHT LEFTOVERS!" Sonic proudly announced, having a small box in his hands.

Maddie looked around the living room, petting Ozzy once before looking at Tom. "Do you think they're in the basement?"

Tom perked up and looked up the stairs. "I can hear noises. I'll go tell them we've got leftovers."

When Tom opened the door to the bedroom, he looked at Knuckles, then you.

"Ah, Mr. Wachowski! You have returned from your journey so soon?" The Echidna had you snuggled against him with the TV displaying some random nature show.

Thank GOD you both managed to fix the bed sheets so they looked decent enough. Otherwise you'd so be dead-

"Yeah, the boys really wanted to get back home for the baseball game tonight. But we brought leftovers, so I thought you two would be interested!"

You nodded and got up, having your comfy clothes on. But when you tried walking, you fell on your face.

"Oh, y/n! Are you okay?" The police officer helped you onto your feet, then he caught sight of the hickeys on your neck. "...um-"

You blushed and dusted yourself off. "Got into a fight with Ozzy! He bit me a few times! But I'm okay!"

The Echidna nodded to back up your point. "I managed to step in and separate them before it got out on control. I will go join the Fox, Hedgehog, and pretzel woman." He took his leave.

Tom shook his head with a knowing smirk, then handed you a turtleneck sweater. "Hide those marks with this, then come join us, okay?"

You nodded in embarrassment.

But it felt good, so you scored a win!

#sonic 3 #sonic movie universe #knuckles x reader #knuckles wachowski #sonic 2 #sonic 2 knuckles

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mooooonnnzz · 9 months ago

Note

hi!!! I fell in love with your content and I wanted to make a little request, since it was on my mind for a while...

It's kinda cringe but I saw your hc's/fic about Stan's and Ford's reaction to their daughter having a partner, but what would they say about the break-up??? how would they react?? 💔💔

I'm Glad There Is You

Stan + Ford HC's of you getting broken up with!

ʚ♡ɞ 4,2k words

ʚ♡ɞ we're so back

ʚ♡ɞ i've been cooking this up for the past few days mwehehe

ʚ♡ɞ i won't be publishing fics as frequently! but its better cuz i wont be pushing out poopy fics. i can actually take my time with them and make em better :3

ʚ♡ɞ that's all enjoy! request are still open too :p

🎱 Stan

𝄞 Stan hadn’t suspected a thing when he saw you rush into your room after being out all day. You occasionally do that when you were exhausted and had no more battery left in you to uphold another conversation. But, when he saw you all disheveled in appearance. Not bothering to glance at him, let alone tell him about your day, he knew something was up. Springing your wellbeing in the conversation was tricky. He knows that if he straight up asked if you’re okay, you’d burst out into tears and cry out incoherent words that sounded like mushed up sobs into his ear. So how could he ease you into talking about yourself without having you break down? For the remainder of the day, he was tackling himself with ways he could ask about how you’re doing, stemming from slapping a sticky note on your forehead to passing a note under your door. But none of them seemed effective. His brain was splitting into two. He couldn’t decide and the day was coming to a close. The orange overhang of the sun shone into the shack and Stan was contemplating on asking your partner why you were sad because if he didn’t know what was going on, your partner had an idea or the full picture. He decided against it though. Maybe this was something you’d rather keep to yourself?

𝄞 The stress was so bad he had to go outside for a quick smoke. Seeing you in an emotional state of disarray sends him into one as well. He plucked a cigarette from his pack and pinched it in between his lips. Craning his head up a bit to light up the cigarette, he shielded the orange flame sparkling to life from the wind with his cupped hand. He blew a stream of smoke into the evening air, his electrifying nerves nulling into a soft calming buzz. He knew smoking was bad for him, but he couldn’t stray away from it in times like these. The door to the front porch painfully creaked open. Looking over his shoulder, he softly smiled upon seeing you. “Pumpkin,” He pats the side right next to him. You take the seat and inhale the crisp air—well, from what you can get with all the cigarette smoke littering the air. “Second hand smoking is way worse than first hand.” You mention, delicate amusement trailing in your words as you take a seat beside him.

𝄞 “You’re the one who walked out here knowing I was smoking.” He replied with a flick of his hand. Another trail of smoke escapes his mouth as he exhales, his body visibly relaxing into the familiar routine. “I should get a cigarette too.” You stretched out your arms, cracking a small smile. “Heh,” Stan flicked the cigarette, small shreds of ashes trickling down from the burning end of the stick. “You think you’re funny.” You nod intensely. “I think I’m very funny.” You look off into the horizon, eyes carrying such a thick somber look to them Stan had to finally ask the question he had been beating around the bush for who knows how long. “You okay, kiddo?”

𝄞 Your eyes glisten over with tears, bottom lip trembling as you hold back the words you’ve been dreading to say to your dad the minute news broke out to you. “Oh, [Name].” Stan burnt out his cigarette, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and bringing you closer to him. The pure affection coming from Stan made you pour out more tears, trembling sobs wracking your body as you mournfully cried onto his shoulder. “Let it out, sweetpea.” His hand comfortingly patted your back. This wasn’t how he wanted this to go, but maybe you needed a quick cry to comfortably tell him what happened. His stomach churned as the suspicion of the reason why you were crying into his shoulder rose. He had a feeling on why you were acting like that, but he had hoped he was wrong.

𝄞 He wasn’t wrong. He was right, unfortunately for him. After recollecting yourself to the best of your ability, Stan had discovered that your partner had broken up with you earlier today for reasons that they had not specified. Frustration bubbled up inside Stan and it took every bone in his body to not slam his fists on your ex’s door, gun in hand to shoot them down for breaking your heart. Instead, he opted to swallow down his anger and tend to you. You needed him to be right by your side and he wasn’t going to suddenly up and leave to shoot down a person. He’d wind up in jail and then you would have to deal with the loss of your partner and your dad. The thought sent chills down his spine. You peeled yourself off his shoulder, leaving a slobbering teary eyed stain on suit. “I’m sorry.” You mutter, eyes red and burning from the force of squeezing them closed. “It’s okay, sweetpea. You don’t need to apologize for things like this, you know that right?” His thumb swipes a stray tear off your cheek. “I know,” You hiccup. Stan seeing you like this infront of him shredded his heart into tiny little pieces. Who could hurt you like this? How could someone protect his child’s heart and break it the next day? Your partner even promised that they’d never pull a stunt like this, and yet here you are, bleary eyed and sniffily.

𝄞 Your face pinched with a forever sorrowful look and for a second he thinks that he’s never going to have you back, he’s never going to see your smile ever again and that alone terrifies him. There has to be something that can cheer you up, right? You’re not forever stuck in this pool of sadness? This is something someone can get over right? All prior knowledge to his personal relationship flies off his head and out the window. He removes himself from his thoughts and grounds him in the moment. What is something that’ll cheer you up? An idea sprouted in his mind. “Want to watch a movie with your old man?” He doesn’t know how you’d respond to his offer and it slightly scares him. He’s never been able to fully predict your every move, but he has made some sense of them later on, but he’s never seen you in this state before and he doesn’t know what to expect. “I’d like that.” You meekly nod your head and Stan has to contain himself from lurching up into the air and cheering out in happiness. Rather, he clears his throat and broadly smiles at you. “I’m gonna take a real quick shower. Pick out a movie you wanna watch and I’ll be back in no time.”

𝄞 The rest of the night was spent snuggled up in the sofa, a blanket of yours of when you were a kid was draped over you and Stan. It barely gave you any coverage but you claimed that it did when Stan would mention it. Stan didn’t want to disagree with you and besides, the blanket reminded him of when you were a little kid, carefree and giddy with little to no knowledge of idiotic people who’d carelessly shatter your heart and leave you without any consolation. The movie that was playing was and still is an all time favorite of yours. You and Stan had memorized the lines that have been forever sewn into your brain from how many times you forced Stan to watch it when you were little. Guess some things don’t change. The days following are full of extensive care and love, enough that would be overbearing to anyone that wasn’t you–at least sometimes.

𝄞 Fishing outings were a must. Stan would rapidly knock on your door, standing on the other side decked head to toe in his fishing outfit. Your fishing hat in hand. You couldn’t say no to him when he’s looking at you with such a sad look in his eyes and dressed up, putting on your worn fishing hat that has seen better days. Stan proudly smiled at you, wiping off a tear from the corner of his eye. “Why are you crying, Dad?” You chuffed nervously. “My eyes are sweating!” He covered his eyes with his forearm, violently sobbing as he walked away to get the fishing gear. In his defense, he hasn’t gone fishing with you in a good long while and seeing you wearing your fishing outfit really triggered the water works in his eye. The past week has been an emotional wreck for you and him, who could blame him? You had forgotten how much fun fishing was. A laugh rattles through your throat as you reel back your fishing rod. This must be your third attempt in catching a fish, and Stan’s enthusiastic commentary struck a funny cord within you. With a few more tugs and reeling back, you caught the fish. “Awesome catch!” He patted your back with so much force, you jolted forward, making the boat lean to the side, causing you to lose your footing and drop the fish in the water. When you were about to revel in your loss, you heard a large splash and large droplets of water sprinkling over you. You turned your attention over to where the splash was heard and to your luck, Stan bobbed his head out of the water, gasping dramatically as his arms flailed around. “Dad!” You laugh.

𝄞 “The water isn’t even that deep.” Talking was a task to do with how hard you were laughing. “Oh.” He stopped thrashing around and allowed him to sink to the bottom of the lake floor. And to his surprise, the water barely even passed his upper chest. That realization made you hunch over in laughter. “Oh, stop laughing!” He grabbed onto the edge of the boat and tried pulling himself up, but the sudden shift in weight made the boat tip over, sending you and all the other belongings in the boat into the freezing water. “[Name]!” He looked to where you were under the water, ready to dive in and grab you from below when you sprung out of the water. You stared at him, cheeks puffed as you struggled to hold back your laughter. “Oh, whatever.” His initial panic was washed off with playful annoyance. “Go ahead, laugh at your old man.” He rolls his eyes upon hearing your boisterous laughter echo in the air. “That was insane!” You wrap your arms around Stan’s neck, hoisting yourself up so you don’t drown while laughing. “Yeah, go ahead. Laugh at this poor old man who’s clearly struggling.”

𝄞 Singing your favorite songs in your karaoke machine was his favorite way to catch you off guard. He’d notice you reminiscing on the past and he’d make a beeline to your machine, slamming the buttons that would turn it on and play a song that you like. His gruff scratchy singing voice always pulled you out of your mind and into the present moment. Walking into the living room where he relocated your karaoke machine for times like these, you couldn’t help but laugh as he passionately sang into the microphone. “Disco girl, coming through! That girl is you!” He points the microphone at you, motioning you over to join him. It takes some convincing but when you do, you and him are blissfully singing your hearts out into the microphone.

𝄞 Seeing your partner around town was an immediate mood kill for Stan. Unaware and in a chipper mood, he found himself in the grocery store. Stacking up on food and snacks to fill your stomach and his. When strolling into the available cash register, his smile curls into a grimace when he sees who was behind the counter. “You,” he spat out. “Ah, Mr. Pines!” They nervously chuckled. “Good to see you. How’s it been?” They can’t make eye contact. The lazer like glare Stan was giving them was enough to know that things haven’t been good. Grabbing an item from the shopping cart, he hovered it over the conveyor belt, mulling over his thoughts. He could not pay for this and run out of the store or he could unscrew the carton of milk and squirt it all over your ex. Or maybe, he could do both? With speed no one could comprehend, he undid the lid and spilled the milk all over them, chucking the empty carton right on their head for extra measure. He then grabbed the cart and bolted out of the grocery store, leaving everyone in the store stunned. “Is anyone going to arrest him or?” A random passerby asked, watching how your ex just stood there, completely befuddled with milk dripping down their body.

𝄞 “Dad? Why is the news saying that you assaulted a worker in the grocery store with milk?” Stan scoffed. “Don’t believe everything you see on the news, sweetie.” He takes a good sip of his pitt cola. “But it shows camera footage of you doing it.” You gesture to the video that was playing. “Fake news. You know how technology is advancing. They can make anything these days.” He grabs the remote and switches channels. “There! Now, we don’t have to see that.” You smile, elbowing him. “It was cool that you did that.” You mutter. He chuckles. “The kid deserved that.”

𝄞 Drives around the town and wreaking havoc in rival attraction traps were a good stress reliever and anger outlet. You were swinging with all your might, your axe that was in hand was splintering through the large wooden statue. “Keep going!” Stan was serving as a lookout, his eyes switching through the front door and to you. Sweat rolled down your temples as you delivered one last final blow to the statue. The statue slowly tipped forward. “Let’s go.” Stan urgently whispered, running back to the family van with you in tow. Stan started the van and sped out of the parking lot and into the driveway. “God dammit, Stanley Pines!” The person emerged from his house, shaking his fist in the air. You clapped your hands together, laughing. “That was a fun one.” You noted, swiping the sweat off your forehead with your shirt. “Who’s next?” You ask eagerly. “Check on the map. You decided where we will go next.” This was the first time you fully smiled at him with your signature laugh following after. No remnants of sadness stuck to you. He knew right then and there that he got you back.

📖 Ford

𝄞 Ford was peacefully slumbering on the couch when the front door was slammed shut, scaring him awake. He jolted forward, the book that was covering his face fell flat on his lap, startling him. “[Name]?” He closes the book in his lap and pushes it aside. You didn’t respond and he was quickly resorting to the idea that it wasn’t you. Creeping towards your room, his knuckles knock on the door. “Sweetie?” He puts his hand on the knob and very slowly turns it. “I’m coming in.” He announces. Opening the door, his eyes land on your back. Quiet sniffles and hiccups could be heard coming from you and Ford’s heart clenched in his chest. He never liked hearing you cry. “[Name]?” He settles himself down on your bed. He couldn’t get to see your face properly since you were curled inwards with your blanket slightly obstructing your face, but he could see your body quiver as you suppressed your sobs. Ford sucked his bottom lip into his teeth. Equally as clueless as his brother, he doesn’t know how to approach this. He hadn’t had the slightest idea of why you’re crying and that truly bugs him.

𝄞 His hand rests on your hip, fingers tapping in a soothing rhythm. “Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” He’s chewing on his lip, anxiety running its full race through his body, relentless and awfully energetic. He’s sure by the end of this, he wasn’t going to have a bottom lip from how much he was nibbling on it. You shuffle further into your blanket in response. “You don’t wanna talk about it?” He croaks out. He never liked when you pushed him away in your most vulnerable moments. He knows you mean well but he detests being in the unknown. You let out a small hum. He had learned over the years that two hums were yes and one was no. It was a very asbured way to communicate but it did come in handy when you weren’t in the mood to talk. This was a way of telling him that you weren’t in the mood prevented Ford from asking an assault wave of questions.

𝄞 “Do you want me to stay here with you?” Two hums. Patting your waist, he shuffles to the other side of your bed and plops down right next to you, mindlessly staring off into the ceiling. His anxiety was still pounding through his body, his clammy hands and beating heart proved that but it quelled a little of it knowing that you wanted him beside you. That you found comfort in his presence. He’d hope you did, he didn’t raise you all these years just for you to hate him. Wait, you don’t hate him, right? You could never hate him. He’s your dad! Can kids hate their own parents? He hated his dad so that can be a generational—

𝄞 “I think hear your overthinking from here, Dad.” Your voice comes out muffled from speaking through the blanket covering your face. He blinks, swallowing his doubt and looking over to your blanket covered face. “Sorry,” he lets out a dry laugh, scratching his cheek. “It wasn’t my intention to annoy you.” You pull the blanket down to the bridge of your nose, allowing Ford to see your irritated swollen eyes. “You’re not annoying me, Dad. You being anxious makes me anxious.” Ford cracked a smile. “Like father, like child.” That managed to pull a smile from you. “Unfortunately, I grow to be more like you everyday.” You say with a roll of your eyes. An overdramatic offended gasp leaves Ford. “And that’s a bad thing, how?”

𝄞 Playful banter was tossed between the two of you, each quick remark and quip allowed you to pick yourself up from the hole you were cowering in. After a while, you mustered up everything you had and told him about the break-up. Ford really couldn’t believe it at first. You had to repeat it to him twice much to your dismay but once he caught what you said, his face fell. “They were a waste of time anyways.” He said with a flick of his wrist. “Dad!” You weren’t expecting him to come off so strongly over hearing the news. “It’s true. They couldn’t even take my work seriously! How could someone laugh at my face when I tell them that aliens are real? Someone is clearly stuck in the stone ages.”

𝄞 He was riding on the mindset of you need to forget this person and move on. Wallowing over losing them wasn’t ideal and you need to distract yourself with other things to prevent yourself from dwelling back on the thought of them. He was done with your ex, so should you. But he was real quick to find out that you weren't exactly like him in that aspect. He’d find you resting on the couch, eyes mindlessly staring at the TV as you’re cuddled up with blankets upon blankets. Tear marks were stained on your cheeks. Maybe you couldn’t distract yourself? Maybe he should be the one that distracts you? He’d scribble drawings of you and him on a piece of paper and fold it up into a cute little airplane and toss it over to you. You would unwrap the little gift with a smile, tears clouding your eyes. “Aw, Dad...” You held the piece of paper to your chest.

𝄞 Your favorite dinner would be cooked almost everyday, and if you have more than one, you bet he’d be coking it up in the kitchen, offering different favorite meals every night. Anything that would bring the smile on your face back. Adventures out into the woods, just like old times, was a thing he’d bring you along with. Even when you did protest and groan, whining how you would rather cry into your pillow, Ford stood his ground and made sure that you got ready for the adventure he had meticulously planned. The minute you step into the familiar lush woods, a sense of calmness falls over you and suddenly you’re a kid skipping around in the woods, in search of anything to show Ford so he could write about the new discovery in his book. Finding old discoveries lightened a smile on your face and unknowingly to you, Ford would draw you in his book like how he did when you were younger. Old habits die hard.

𝄞 A lot of nights were spent you talking your feelings out to Ford. He was a good listener and had a few quips of advice to lend over, since he’s been in a similar but not so similar predicament. But he was more intent on listening to your concerns and anxieties. “I can’t believe I let them do that!” You plop your back down on your bed, anger spilling out of you in sharp words. He shook his head, a very sassy “mhm,” leaves him. “They didn’t deserve you anyways.” He moved his finger side to side. “Why are you acting like that?” You laugh, gingerly pushing him. “Don’t your friends act like that when something happens?” You beam from ear to ear, a loud laugh escaping you. “No! Where did you even get that from?” Ford shrugs. “I don’t know. I just thought they did?” He pretended to act clueless and with a big smile of his own, he watched you curl up in laughter over his ridiculous act. He could only think of how much he missed your smile and beautiful laugh.

𝄞 Seeing your ex at the mall was a surprise both for him and them. Ford was scanning the shelves in search of something to get you when they approached them. “Sir, do you need any he…” Their words die in their throat when they register who they’re talking to. Ford hasn’t made the correlation yet, his attention so wrapped up in finding you the perfect gift. “Do you need any help?” They repeat, their voice cracking. Ford lazily looks over to them, dismissing them before looking back. Then, a look of recognition washes over him and he whips his head over to them. “You!” He loudly yelled. Customers in the store glance over to them. “Mr. Pines, keep it down.” They stressed out, teeth gritted together. “I will–.” An idea came to mind. “I’m sorry.” He rolled his shoulders back, untensing them. They look to the side, uncomfortable with the sudden change. “You’re sorry?” They repeat in disbelief. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be on my way.” A strained smile pulled to his face as he bid goodbye. Stepping out of the store, he sees you happily munching on a blueberry muffin you bought from the bakery. “Hi, Dad! You got anything?” He looks around you. “Do you have any food?” You place your muffin down on the table and grab the bag full of treats. “Yeah. I got some–” Ford dipped his hand in the bag and pulled out a cookie. His other hand digs into the inner pockets of his coat and pulls out a vial of pink sprinkles. “I knew I was going to use this at some point.” He mutters to himself, popping off the cork. “What are you doing?” You ask, watching as he sprinkled it onto the cookie.

𝄞 “You’ll see.” He winks at you before scooping it off the table and walking back into the store. Minutes later, he comes out with a big sinister smile on your face. “What did you do, Dad?” He pointed at the entrance of the store and it didn’t take long to see what he did. A flamingo human-like creature erupted into the store, squawking crazily as their head desperately swiped from side to side, looking for someone. Their black beady eyes landed on you and Ford. An angry squawk was heard from them, their chicken like legs slapping on the floor as they charged at you and Ford. “Run!’ Ford grabbed your wrist and darted away. In a quick swiping motion, you grabbed your bag full of treats before being whisked away. Loud bird noises were heard behind you and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Who is that chasing us?” Ford took a quick turn into another store, shuffling past people and hiding in a discreet corner with you. “That may be your ex angrily chirping at us.” You clapped your palm onto your mouth, an effort to muffle the laughter that left you. “Of course you’d do something like that!” The rest of the day was stealthily trying to escape the mall without being pecked to death by a very angry flamingo. When you did, you were laughing all the way to the car. “Do you always have that around for times like this?” Ford nods. “You’ll never know when you need to make someone a flamingo.” The automatic slide door pulls apart. “Pines!” The now fully turned flamingo human hybrid squawked out. “Get in the car, hurry!”

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz, @katharine3000

dm or comment if you want to be added to my taglist :3

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #stanford pines x reader #stanley pines x reader #stanford pines #ford pines #ford pines x reader #stan pines #stan pines x daughter!reader #stan pines x reader #stan pines x child!reader #stanley pines x daughter! reader #stanley pines x child!reader #ford pines x child!reader #ford pines x daughter!reader #stanford pines x daughter!reader #stanford pines x child!reader

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miyuka1709 · 2 months ago

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Are you doing STP rqs? :O

If so! Cozy/casual alt moody Prisoner?? Shackles with BIIGGG chunky spikes, comfy clothes, maybe even a messy bob-?

Here's a spiky wifey... :3c

Yippeeee... Tried a few different things for her mwehehe.. using this ask as an excuse to draw Prisoner because I've been so focused on the Voices for a while ^^"

#slay the princess #stp #stp fanart #stp princess #shitslays #stp prisoner #stp the prisoner #princess #prisonerrrrr #i love prisoner #<3 mwah #thank you for the ask!#ask box #SPIKY WIFEE #not sure if the spikes are big enough tbh..#but im quite happy with it/gen #ALSO I LOOOVEEEE SHORT HAIR PRISONERRRHSBFNR

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xoxoxkisses · 11 months ago

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HELLO HELLO HELLOOOOOO! I'M HERE TO REQUEST FOR MUICHIRO AGAIN MWEHEHE. HOW ABOUT A JEALOUS READER X MUICHIROO?

like the reader noticed that there are a lot of girls who are having a crush on muichiro. like often sending him letters and gifts which made the reader a bit disappointed and sad? muichiro noticed it and pampered her and assured her that he only had his eyes for her?omg this idea was so cute to think about ^^

thank you so muchie ୧⍤⃝💐

Omg this is so cute! I’m so happy to do it ^^ ————————————————————————

Jealousy Jealousy

warnings: none

————————————————————————

You and Muichiro had been dating for around a year, he wanted to keep it a secret, and you understood. You’ve always been the jealous type, but dating Muichiro seemed to make your jealousy a little worse.

You knew a lot of girls had a crush on him, you overheard a bunch of them talk about how cute he was when you were out on a walk. You wanted to say something to them but you couldn’t, you had to keep it a secret that you were his girlfriend.

Muichiro was always sent letters and gifts from girls that liked him. He always ignored their letters and even threw them away, and the gifts he just donated. Even though he ignored everything, it still made you a little upset. You wish he would just tell everyone he’s in a relationship. It didn’t even stop when he was on missions, while you were home you were receiving gifts and letters that belonged to him. You just threw them all on the table and left them alone, except for one. It was this girl named Ito, you opened the letter and you saw it was a whole essay on everything she wanted Muichiro to know about her plus pictures of her. You rolled your eyes and threw it down.

It’s been around week since then, but you couldn’t stop thinking about that letter, she was a lot prettier than you. “Y/n, are you ok?” You looked at Muichiro. “Yeah I’m great.” He could almost taste the sarcasm in your voice. He sighed and walked towards you, “What’s wrong?” You sighed, “Nothing.” It took some convincing, but he got you to tell him what was wrong.

“Aw Y/n, you were jealous.” You huffed at him. “Well, I think you’re better than any of those girls, way better. They don’t even compare with you, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve laid my eyes on and the sweetest.” You couldn’t help but smile at him. He came over and picked you up. “Muichiro what are you doing?!” You laughed. He didn’t even say anything, instead he just started kissing you all over, you were still laughing. He threw you down on the couch and continued to kiss you. “Each kiss shows my love for you.” You smiled at his comment, and he went back down to kissing you. “You’re my everything, I love you so much.” He placed a kiss on your lips, no matter how much he kissed you, his lips were still so soft and warm and felt like a dream. “I love you too.” You said as he pulled away. He sat you up and hugged you, then nestled his head in the crook of your neck. ————————————————————————

A few days later, you were on your morning walk. You saw those same girls who you had seen talking about your boyfriend. One being Ito. You walked closer to them, curious on what they were saying. “His lips look so soft! I bet he’s a good kisser.” You heard Ito say. Muichiro gave you permission to say something to them, so you did. You walked closer to them where they could hear you. “He is a good kisser.” You looked back at them and winked, you laughed in your head as you saw the way their mouths hung open and their faces turning red. You didn’t regret a single thing.

After you said that, the gifts and letters gradually disappeared. You were glad, because now it seems everyone knew you were his and he was yours.

#viralpost #demon slayer #kny muichiro #demon slayer muichiro #muichiro x reader #muichiro tokito #tokitō muichirō #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #muichiro fluff

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aaliyahhoney · 2 months ago

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Cw: DIRTY SMEXY SMUT MWEHEHE

Gaz who notices how irritated and tense you are a few days into the mission. Making small comments about how you need a breather and making it a point to exchange small touches. Whether it’s opening a door for you and guiding you in with his hand on the curve of your back, or walking so close your arm brushes his. Whispering jokes to you through comms as you and him board the plane after a successful task. It wasn’t until he approached you after a briefing catching your attention long enough for him to guide you into an empty room as he made small talk.

Now you’re gasping quietly as his tongue swipes your clit in experienced laps. Him humming in approval sending vibrations throughout your body forcing a soft whimper out your kiss swollen lips. Soft pulls in his hair make shivers run down his spine as he rests your leg on his shoulder keeping you stable. Fast breathes turn into quiet whimpers, as you neared your orgasm Gaz’s eyes never leaving your euphoric expression. Grabbing at your hips as he pulled you closer wanting to get every last drop as you shake, rolling your hips into him. He whispers soft praises in your ear telling you how good you were before pulling your pants back up and helping you take your first steps with shaky legs. Only to leave a pat on your ass and giving you a wink before leaving you in the hallway to get on with his next task.

HAHAHAHAHHAAH I love him 😸

#kyle gaz garrick #kyle cod #cod x you #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #soap call of duty #simon riley x you #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod smut

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midnight-mourning · 5 months ago

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All Aboard

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 27❄️❄️

Once again, Pom, your brain is massive, this was a LOT of fun, i saw the words 'magic' and 'fae elements' and the pot started boiling over ashjadk, anywho, please enjoy!

Prompt: second request >:3c (but no pressure!!) I havent read all the other folks yet to see if there was a Polar Express/Train ride type oneshot. I feel like train conductor/surrealism vibes would be a delight, with holiday magic and spritely, fae elements sprinkled in. Maybe getting lost on to the destination--or the train getting stopped due to a snowstorm. (Very Nana, if you watched that anime haha) Perhaps, yn is in clear emotional distress bc of smth happening interpersonally leading up. Texting, phones, drama. Do they even want to go home…? … (Will they go back home? >:)) mweheh.)

Word Count: 2811

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

The train whistle blares loudly outside, starting to roll down the tracks. You watch out the window as the station begins to fade away, sighing as snow hits the pane every so often. You check you phone again when it buzzes, another message to add to the pile. Another half-hearted apology you're guessing.

You're about to look in detail when you stop, cursing yourself and shaking your head. You got on this train for that exact reason, to avoid having to speak to them. You weren't going to give in, you just, needed a break. To go somewhere, anywhere really.

Your ticket was for home, and the idea of being back in your apartment sounds better and better by the moment. You sink back in the seat again, already liking the sound of being back in your own bed with your own food and your own life. You never should have come here, should've listened to your friends, they'd been right all along.

You feel a headache coming on, either from the stress, or the exhaustion of crying so much. Or even, the nagging of your friends as they brag and say they told you so. Which, they did, but you didn't need to hear it again. At least you had a day or so. The trip back was long, requiring you to get a sleeper car, where most of your belongings resided currently, save for the book sitting beside you, along with your sketchbook.

You'd been wanting to do a bit of reading, or drawing, anything to take your mind off things, but after receiving that text you just didn't have the heart for it.

"Everything alright over here, friend?"

You glance up, seeing a well-dressed man standing to your right. He was tall, blond, and wore a sun-themed mask over his eyes, which are also covered with a white shade. His smile is warm, kind.

You straighten up a bit, feeling self-conscious all the sudden. "Oh, yeah. Just fine. Sorry, do you need my ticket?"

"Yes please!"

You hand it over to him, and he punches it, promptly handing it back to you. "There you go! Is there anything else I can get for you? Perhaps a snack, or a drink?"

"No, I'm good, but thank you... Sorry, what's your name?"

The man bows slightly. "You may call me Sun. And you, friend?"

"Oh, my friends call me Nick/N." You smile.

Sun tilts his head, his smile seems, strained for a moment. Then—"Welcome aboard, then, Nick/N. We hope you enjoy the ride!" For good measure, he takes your hand, pressing his lips to the back of it for a moment before releasing you.

"T-thanks." You say, watching as he walks off, going over to where the other conductor stands.

You take note that he's wearing a moon mask, with red covering his eyes instead. They exchanged a few hushed words with each other, and when they look over to you, you avert your gaze again.

You didn't pay attention when you booked this train, just got on the first one you could, you wonder if it's themed in some way. It would make sense anyway, why else for the masks?

As you settle in for your ride, the conductors come by multiple times each to check on you. During this you find out the other is named 'Moon', which, pretty on the nose you'd say, but you have to guess it's all part of the act.

Regardless, you find them to be friendly, very chatty, almost too much so. They're constantly offering you something to eat or drink, and if you hadn't brought snacks you'd take them up on the offer. Even then, they try encouraging you to pick something from the train's menu.

"Surely you deserve something better than that, crumbling thing, Sunshine."

"Or something sweet to wash it down, maybe a glass of wine?"

You take another bite of your granola bar. "Nah, this is good enough for now. And I'm not much of a day drinker." You unscrew your water bottle lid, taking a sip. "Appreciate it though!"

"If you change your mind, simply let us know, Starlight."

That was another thing, the nicknames. At first, they used yours that you'd given, almost constantly addressing you in conversation. It was like they were waiting for something to happen. But when it didn't they'd switched to the celestial-themed ones instead.

It was all so, incredibly, interesting.

In the evening, you're sketching in your seat when your phone goes off again. You frown upon hearing it, looking out the window momentarily. It's dark, but you can make out that it's snowing incredibly hard now. You're surprised the train is still able to get through all this—

"What are you drawing, Sunbeam?"

You jump, finding the two of them are across from you. Sun leans over the back of the opposite seat, elbows resting on the top edge, while Moon lounges across the seat itself.

You feel embarrassed now. "Oh, nothing important." You don't want to admit that you're drawing them, that would be utterly humiliating.

You couldn't help it, despite their, overtly friendly behavior—to the point you'd grown slightly suspicious—you found the two to be alarmingly charming despite it all. There was an air about them that was enticing, drawing you in and making you ever curious.

Moon tsks. "Now, now. Don't leave us in suspense. I'm sure anything you create would be lovely."

"It's true, though maybe not as lovely as them, wouldn't you say?" Sun rests his head in his hand, small smirk on his lips.

Moon nods, waving his hand. "Not even a question, of course."

Your ears are burning at this point. And, compelled by their outward flirting you hold out your sketchbook, head ducked to maybe hide some of your awkwardness.

"Just take it already." You mumble. "And go easy on me, please. It's been awhile..."

Eager hands snatch up your book, and they bicker over who gets to hold it. You giggle at the exchange, and they finally settle on each holding one side as they flip through.

As they go, Sun whistles, and Moon hums in agreement, it only serves to fluster you more.

"You made all of these?" Moon asks.

You laugh. "Well yeah, most of those are from months ago. They're, okay, I guess."

"Okay? You have talent, Starshine!" Sun states, waving his hand to the page. "I've never seen a hu-anyone create like this. It's impressive."

You have to cover up your face then, it's on fire. "Please, stop. They're really not—"

"And you drew us?" Sun exclaims.

"They drew me better looking."

Sun huffs. "No, look how they got my jaw perfect!"

They delve into arguing again about who is sketched better and you just about can't take it anymore when your phone starts ringing.

All three of you snap your attention to the device.

When you see the caller ID, your heart fills with dread.

Instead of curling up from being flustered, you curl up with fear, groaning. "Why can't they take a hint..."

As the phone continues to ring, you get ready to pick it up from the seat, either to answer or to decline the call.

You don't get the chance, as Sun asks you a question. "Friend, is this your signature here?" He's pointing to a page of your sketchbook.

"I, yeah. It is." You don't know why you didn't hesitate with that answer, too stressed to think, currently.

You don't notice the shared look between the two, slight grins on their faces at this information.

Your phone is still ringing, so you finally grab it, debating on what to do.

"Do you want to talk to them?" Moon asks you.

You sigh, then laugh. "God no. Not at all. But..." You trail off, and shake your head. "Maybe I should hear them out. Even if I really don't want to deal with them right now."

Your thumb hovers over the answer button, ready to press it—

"Y/n. Don't answer the phone." Sun's words are firm, but there's still a softness to them, almost remorseful?

You don't know, because one moment your phone is in your hand, the next it's not. You... aren't sure why but, it's probably fine, right?

The rest of the evening proceeds like everything is normal. Neither of them calls you by your name again, sticking to their nicknames. You're not hungry, so you don't eat dinner despite their pestering about it not being good for you. And you retire to your bed after a late night filled with chatting. The two of them must have very little work to do as conductors, if they can spend so much time with a single passenger like you.

Speaking of, was the train always so empty, or had people just slowly been getting off without you noticing? You yawn, and as your head hits the pillow decide that you'll worry about it tomorrow. Besides, you should be home by the end of the morning anyhow.

When you wake up the next day, you notice that there's a distinct lack of movement happening. You must have stopped at a station. You stretch and hop out of bed, deciding that after the day you had yesterday, you deserve to walk around in your pajamas for a bit.

You go over to the dining car, incredibly hungry, and expecting people to be boarding. What you find is an empty car filled with piping hot food and—

"Is that a hot coco bar?" You ask to the open air, starting to salivate at the thought.

However, before you even consider food, you decide you need to figure out what's going on. Walking over to the window, you see that the snow is piled high all around the train, almost up to the window. You must have hit a drift in the night, meaning you're stuck until the can clear the tracks.

Normal people would be concerned about this information. But either because you don't care when you get home—as long as you're not there—or because you've developed a strange lack of care for most time related things, you don't mind in the slightest.

With a shrug, you go over and grab a plate and start piling it high, someone's got to eat it, right?

You also grab a large mug of hot chocolate, adding many marshmallows and tons of whipped cream. You sit down, ready to dig in, when you're spooked as you realize Moon is sitting across from you, chin resting in his hand with a smile.

"Good morning, Starlight. Sleep well?"

You nod. "Yeah. You sure know how to make an entrance, don't you?"

"We pride ourselves on it." Sun says with a chuckle, in the seat behind you, you realize.

Looking up, you see he's in a similar position to Moon, small smirk on his face as he observes you.

"Seems so. While you're both here, what's going on with the train?" You raise a piece of toast to your mouth. "Unless I'm wrong and you two aren't good at your job."

You take a bite, and have to sit up again, eyes wide. The bread is perfectly crispy, with just the right amount of butter. It tastes like heaven.

You're too caught up in taking another bite to catch what Sun says.

"Oh my god. This is the best toast I've ever had in my life." You finish devouring it, wiping your mouth and looking back up to him. "Sorry, can you repeat that?"

Sun chuckles, hands shifting to hold your face. "I said, we're snowed in. It will take some time for the tracks to be cleared. Potentially several days."

"Oh, really?" You reach down blindly for more food, and feel your plate be scooted closer to you. You thank Moon briefly and snatch up a piece of bacon, which also tastes divine. "Bummer."

This seems to surprise the masked man, eyebrows shooting up above the mask's edge. "You're not concerned?"

"Nah. To be honest, I don't have much of a place to go back to. A cold apartment in a shitty building on the wrong side of the city." You finish your bacon, grabbing another piece. "Not to mention how my friends are going to be getting on to me about how they were right and I was wrong and on and on and on and, man this food is delicious, like how do you guys have such a good cook for a train?"

Sun looks away from you, and sitting straight you see Moon's looking to him as well. You however, are too busy indulging your gluttony to care. Every single bite is amazing, like, the best breakfast you've ever had.

You're about to take a drink of your hot coco, when a hand grabs your wrist.

"Wait." Moon states, then sighs.

You raise an eyebrow, waiting.

He looks behind you to Sun, and glancing back you see he's frowning, but nods.

He comes around the seat, and sits across from you with Moon. After removing the coco from your hands, he clasps one of yours in both his own.

"We haven't been truthful with you, Sunshine. At least, I believe that's how your people say it." His grip tightens for a moment before relaxing. "It wasn't by accident that you boarded this train."

You furrow your brow. "Well, yeah, I bought the ticket."

"It wasn't the ticket you were supposed to. We, ensured you would board this train specifically." Moon states, sounding, ashamed.

Sun continues for him. "You see, we're not from your world. We come from somewhere else, somewhere long forgotten to most of your kind. Many of our own like to play tricks on you humans, for entertainment and such. We prefer to help."

"The train is designed to find those in need of it." Moon waves to the rest of the car. "The lost, the lonely, the hurting,"—he glances at you for a moment—"It gives them a place to heal, to learn, to change in some cases. Then, when they're ready, the return home, none the wiser to the time that's past or what's truly occurred."

You notice Sun's cheeks are tinged pink under the mask, up until now you don't think you've seen either of them be so bashful. "Though, we've been, 'keeping tabs' on you for some time. Besides the gloomy aura you had we found you to be—" He bites his cheek, and mutters his next words. "Very attractive."

"Getting you here became a bit of a game for us." Moon admits, also blushing now. "As was getting you to share your name, and eat our food. Most never stay on the train long enough to do so. Or at least, they don't think they do."

Sun finally looks back to you, hands still holding your own. "But we wanted to tell you before you took a drink, as that would, bind you to us. But not to the train! You can leave whenever you like, of course. But, you deserved to know our intentions, regardless of whether you would even consider feeling the same or not."

He releases you finally, folding his now fidgeting hands into his lap.

You take a moment to take everything in, reviewing in your head to make sure you understood everything they've told you.

Once you've determined that yes, this is actually happening, you speak.

"So if I drink this, I'll stay here... forever?" You point down to the cup, still steaming.

"You could still leave whenever you wish, but essentially yes—Oh my stars."

The two can only stare, mouths agape as you chug your hot coco in one go. When your finished you sigh, taking your napkin and dabbing your mouth.

"Man, that hit the spot. I'll be getting more of that later. Anywho,"—you start to dig in to the rest of your plate—"It might take me a bit, but which one of you wants dibs on first kiss? If that's your thing, that is."

"I-"

"Me." Moon blurts.

At this, Sun blusters, and you snicker to yourself as they begin to debate back and forth on the subject. You glance out the window at the snowy landscape, taking in how, enchanted it feels now that you fully understand the situation. It's certainly not what you expected to happen when you boarded this train, but you're certainly not complaining about the outcome.

Maybe you'll change your mind, and one day depart from this place and the two fae you've somehow acquired. But as of this moment, spending your days with two magic beings vying for your attention, a warm bed, good food, and helping others?

That's a pretty good deal to you.

Best Christmas present you've ever gotten, by a long shot.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Thank you @divinit3a for the request! As i said before, VERY big brained and I enjoyed it a good bit hehe ^-^

Thanks for reading!

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