#but i just. they make me so incredibly soft.

[calicocita]

SUKUNA RYOMEN: ❝ NOT JEALOUS. ❞

sukuna couldn't help the primal urge that overtook him every time he noticed another man looking at you.

no, looking wasn't the right word, eye fucking you, his perfect beautiful wife, right in front of him.

it happened more times than he could keep track of. at the mall when you dragged him along with you to run your little errands. at your job when he'd go to drop you off or pick you up. even at his job, he'd be forced to witness his own colleagues gawking at you with their jaws on the floor whenever you dropped by to see him at his office.

as if all of that wasn't enough to drive him feral, you were just completely oblivious to it. of course.

maybe that's why you didn't notice what he was doing at first. since you two started dating, ryomen would always touch you in public. like a lot.

you didn't suspect anything when he grabbed you by the waist wherever you went. or when he started holding your neck when you waited in lines, kissing your jaw and that soft spot behind your ear, which always made you giggle. or even when he kissed you so deeply and for so long—in the middle of the street in broad daylight—you had to take a moment to catch your breath.

it wasn't until things escalated that you started to wonder if there might be something behind his behavior.

it was at his office's christmas party, while he was making speech in front of all his colleagues about something you couldn't pay attention to, because while he rose one glass to the public with one hand, he simply slid his other hand down your back, squeezing your ass for everyone to see.

to say that you were pissed at him was an understatement.

you waited until you two got home to scream at his face about how incredibly inappropriate he had behaved.

"as if you didn't like it." sukuna teased, getting as close to you as you would allow him. "what? you want me to just stand there while those little shits eye fuck my wife in front of me?!"

"no one was eye fucking me, ryo—"

"c'mon, baby, be fucking for real with me, now." you let him get closer now, his large hands enveloping your waist. "you can't be that innocent." you tried looking away from him, but he grabbed you by your neck forcing you to face him. "do you really think there was even one man at that party who wasn't looking at you?"

"you're jealous?" you scoffed at him, and you immediately felt his grip tighten around your neck, making you involuntarily squirm under his touch.

"i am not jealous." sukuna snarled, tilting his head to the side, with a predatory smile that didn't reach his eyes. "what i am is fucking pissed at all those fuckers lusting after my wife."

[alchemistc]

Part One

The loft is sadly undecorated. He'd tried, is the thing. Gone to the same novelty store they'd found on a random walk after a date, in late September, where Tommy had spent twenty minutes worrying a foam pumpkin in his hands while Buck tried to decide what sort of decor would fit his utilitarian loft.

They'd spent so long lingering over the sculpted white candles, Buck thrilled because Tommy's straight face broke every time Buck pointed out which ones looked like incredibly expensive dildos, that he'd felt bad enough to buy a whole set of them just to appease the girl at the counter who'd been watching them with a half annoyed, half wistful expression while Buck made a comment about dragons that had had Tommy biting his lip so hard he'd actually gone red in the face trying to hold the laughter in.

But every time he'd picked up a glass tree and thought how much fun it'd be to try to make Tommy go full Tik Tok Paramedic on him, every time he'd found something soft or plush enough that Tommy wouldn't have been able to resist running his fingers over it, plucking it up to toss it between his palms - well.

It wasn't like there'd be anyone in his loft long enough to really appreciate his decorations.

"Why'd you kiss me?" he asks, rounding on Tommy as Tommy takes a tentative step towards the kitchen.

"You were being annoying." At Buck's look, he elaborates. "Force of habit."

The finger comes up without any input from Buck, his voice tipping into that same flirty, bickering rapport he'd always pushed as far as he could. "I knew you did it to shut me up."

Tommy expression shutters. He recognizes Buck's tone. A few months ago that tone would start with a round of banter that usually ended with at least one of them with their pants around their ankles.

He looks spooked. He's staring at the island stool closest to the door like he's replaying the last conversation they had here, and Buck feels all his ire rear back up.

"You promised me clarity, Tommy." It's an accusation, and they both know it, because he looks ready to fucking bolt.

Slowly, he steps in. Half a yard closer to Buck, close enough to curl his hand over the island, and Buck is struck again by how goddamn unfair it is that Tommy looks this goddamn good in a suit.

"I did."

Buck's pretty sure he has some muffins he hasn't frozen yet that wouldn't actually damage Tommy, if he threw them at him.

"Can we...?" He gestures, vague as his half a question, and Buck wants to throttle him. Or kiss him again, which is -

"I need a beer. You?"

Tommy sighs. His grip on the corner of the island makes his knuckles go white. "Evan."

"No beer, got it." He swings the door open and doesn't wait for the reaction to either his snippy little rejoinder or the stacks and stacks of baked goods filling up the shelves of his fridge. He pops the cap with his back still turned, let's the fridge door fall closed. "Not like you drove here, but sure. One of us should be sober, I guess."

The switch back to Evan doesn't do anything for him at all.

Buck leans back against the counter and tries not to think about how he'd had this half formed idea of getting a real tree this year, finding some novelty kiosk that made those hokey ornaments for people to mark the years they'd been a family. He'd thought -

Tommy blinks guiltily when Buck catches him eyeing the way he fills out his slacks, a toe to groin drift of his gaze that makes Buck ache for when he could respond to that by dropping to his knees.

"That's a lot of bread," Tommy notes, eyes focused somewhere over Buck's shoulder.

"Why'd you break up with me, Tommy?"

Tommy freezes. Shifts from foot to foot. Sighs, and takes a few steps to the fridge, swings it open to grab a beer of his own. It's still the stuff Tommy likes. Buck's not picky, really, and it'd been habit to grab the six pack he always kept for Tommy.

The last five times he'd restocked.

Tommy takes half a step back to lean against the island, just off center from Buck, so they both have to twist their necks just a little to actually look at each other.

"You terrify me," Tommy murmurs, a few swigs in, when the silence is just starting to make Buck's skin itch. "Evan, I'm not -." He grimaces, frustrated. "I'm not some Super Gay who fights for justice and equality and the ability to make horrible television with Hummel doll sopranists."

"I don't know what that means."

Tommy's smile is wry. He'd had a running list of movies Buck's never seen on a note on his phone - every time Buck missed a reference, he'd added it to the list. They'd gotten through maybe twenty before -

"I led on a good woman for years because I convinced myself I could live my life ignoring a huge piece of myself. I hurled slurs with my buddies just to make sure no one noticed me. I fed into every toxic stereotype I could just to avoid anyone realizing I wasn't one of them. I'm not - I'm not some Gold Star Gay, paragon of the community. I didn't do shit. And even when I made the decision to let myself just be who I always was, I waited until no one in my life was close enough to me to question that I hadn't always been this way. I -." He winces. Shakes his head. "I run instead of fighting. I hide every time someone tries to see me. I'm not - this comfort you're so convinced I have I took at the cost of other people who were braver and stronger than I could ever be. Do you - is that an admirable quality, to you?"

Buck wishes they'd sat, like Tommy seemed to have been hinting at. He wishes he'd spent the ride over preparing himself for this, instead of stopping himself from crawling into Tommy's lap and getting a horrible rider rating for his trouble. He wishes -

"Do you think I don't already know all those things about you?"

It's - actually, it makes him a little furious, to think that Tommy spent six months thinking he'd successfully hid all those things from Buck. And - sure, he hadn't exactly been forthcoming about more than a few of those things, but like -

It wasn't like Buck didn't actively find ways to pry stories from Howie and Hen, even Bobby on occasion. It wasn't like Buck hadn't noticed the clipped way Tommy spoke of his past, his family, always tucking away more than he revealed. It wasn't like Buck wasn't well aware that Tommy Kinard had the capacity to be a total fucking asshole, if he wanted. Just because he'd kept it cool around Buck, made it just flirty enough for plausible deniability -

"You deserve better than that. Than me."

"Then be better than that, Tommy." It's not the best way to get his point across, but... "I've had multiple serious relationships, Tommy. I'm - I've been in love, before, and I've had my heart broken before, and I've had my trust broken before, and I've made people I love feel like shit. You weren't new and exciting, Tommy, we were - we were boring and domestic and it was the best six months of my life. It was what I -."

And this, of course, is where the words start to crest over, too many at once while his mouth tries to keep up and his throat is too tight to -

He swallows. Stares at his toes until his vision swims. Maybe those are tears, or maybe he's just stared long enough to go cross-eyed. His throat feels like he might be able to scrape a few words out

"I go too fast sometimes. I - I get scared I'm falling behind and so I clear a few hurdles too fast to catch back up and it -." Frustration rises through him as he remembers the way Tommy had levered himself up, spun away, broken things off without even a hint of the careful consideration Buck had grown so used to. "And you just - you tell me you want more than anything to be my last but you can't even give me the closure of a clean break! What the hell was that about?"

"Evan, I -."

"No! Okay, no. It's my turn to - it's my turn to be mad. It's my turn to - do you know how lonely I've been? How - how much I'm in my own head about where I went wrong, and what I could have done differently, and why you won't just fucking text me when you clearly want to? Do you know - do you know what it's like to think you've finally found something worth the humiliation of being known and then have it vanish in a single night? Over - you never talked to me about any of the shit you brought up that night, Tommy! You never - if you were so scared of not being enough to keep me interested, or so sure you weren't a good enough man, or so sure I couldn't possibly know what I wanted out of this, you could have saved us a hell of a lot of time and - and hurt by not being exactly the person I thought I could spend the rest of my life with! If that was all a - a smokescreen, some act, then why did you - are you actually so cruel that you convinced me we were falling in love while you had one foot out the door the whole time?"

Tommy's grip on the bottle looks painful.

"It's your turn to talk," Buck snipes, and he takes a little satisfaction in the way Tommy blanches. Just a little. Just enough to ignore how much he wants to rip Tommy's suit jacket at the straining shoulder seams and bite a bruise into that spot below his collarbone that even Tommy's undershirts hid well enough to keep the team at Harbor from putting him on blast for coming to work covered in hickeys.

"Six months with you was more devastating than two decades of hiding who I was, Evan," Tommy says, and it's a horrible opening that makes Buck feel like he's being drawn and quartered but he'd given Tommy the floor, so -

Tommy's eyes are a little too misty to call them anything but welling, and Buck hates it as much as it satisfies the pieces of himself he's spent weeks trying to pick up and glue back together.

"Evan, I lived with Abby for years and I don't think I saw her as much as I saw you. You -." He swipes a hand through his hair, and rustles one of his Superman curls loose to drape tauntingly over his forehead. Buck wants to bite him. He wants it to hurt. "You burrowed in and you just kept digging and I didn't take a second to question it until it was too late."

"Too late for what?"

"For me to take the cowards way out and leave before it hurt."

"Maybe I should have dug further," Buck snaps, and Tommy's gaze flits to his. Holds, for the first time all night. He's breathtaking in the best and worst way possible. He's spent weeks now trying to imagine anyone else ever making him feel the way prolonged eye contact with this man makes him feel.

"You did," Tommy admits, a confession that sounds like it's been gut punched right out of him. "You still -." Another grimace, Tommy pulling back, pulling away, hiding, running, and Buck can't -

"So what is this, Tommy? Is this - are you -?" He shakes his head to clear the cobwebs. Rears up, pushes off the counter, and Tommy's eyes widen like he's just now realized he doesn't have an easy exit. Buck just stands there, though. "If this is it, let this be it. If you don't want - if you're not willing to fight for this with me, tell me now. I know I'm - I know I'm a lot. I know I push for more when I'm scared. I know I'm overwhelming, and I sometimes can't stop talking to save my life, and I know I'm jealous and petty and - I know I'm not perfect."

Tommy sets his bottle on the counter beside him. Worries his lip between his teeth and rolls his jaw.

"You snore. You're a bitch sometimes and every once in a while it's not even charming. You hog all the covers and then you complain that it's too hot. You're vague about every single thing in your past that you think makes you seem like a bad person. You always think food needs more garlic and sometimes you're wrong. Sometimes when I spiral you just give me that stupid indulgent smile of yours and I know you stopped listening two reddit threads ago. When you're grumpy sometimes it takes everything in me not to pick a fight because you're such an asshole. You get cagey every time I pick at a thread you don't want to unravel and I - I hate it. I wanted a life with you and you couldn't stick around long enough to tell me why you were too afraid to go for it. So if - if you think I'm seeing you with rose colored glasses, or whatever. If you think I'm not - if you think being the first guy makes you too special for this to be real then just..." He sucks in a breath. Blows it out through his nose and feels the ache in his chest that's half remnants of his earlier panic attack and half fear that Tommy will actually turn and walk out at the end of this. "If you don't wanna fight for this I'll fill in the hole I dug as best I can and I'll leave you alone, okay?"

The look on Tommy's face is one he's never seen before. They've done this dance, or parts of it, at least. Tommy'd left him outside Micelli's, breathless and confused and aching, before he ever knew what it was like to hold his hand, to press his nose into the join of his neck and shoulder, to curl a hand in his hair or be filled by him - with attention, with affection, with the weight of his body and the stretch of his cock. Even then, this had felt different. Real, in a way the misty edges of his time with Abby, or the way Buck's puzzle pieces had never quite fit with Taylor's had never been. Even then, he'd just wanted so desperately to know and be known by Tommy that he'd taken his second chance and run with it.

"I don't snore," Tommy says, when the silence gets too heavy, and Buck - god, Buck has missed that tone, the snappy little tilt of his head, the blatant lie that passes over Tommy's lips so smoothly it's hard to tell sometimes that he's not being serious.

"I have audio proof," Buck says, and then doesn't immediately admit that he'd played it on a loop two nights into the breakup when he'd wrapped his entire body around the spare pillows on his bed and still hadn't been able to sleep alone in his bed.

"It bugs me that you spent days following scraps of information about a dead outlaw you convinced yourself cursed you, but you didn't even know what a Kinsey scale was."

This is - progress. This is... not Tommy bolting.

"I'm a two. If that's - is that, like, gay enough for you, or...?"

"You go too fast for me, Buckley," he says, and Buck knows that's a fucking reference to something he doesn't have context for just as well as he knows he's willing to spend the next decade waiting for the reference to pop up on Tommy's list. It's a terrifying, exhilarating thought and it's probably exactly what Tommy means.

"I can slow down," Buck says, and he tries to mean it. Nothing about how he feels about Tommy is slow.

"I don't want you to," Tommy admits, and then lets the silence stretch. They're two and a half feet away from each other and the distance feels like the farthest he's ever been from Tommy and the closest he may ever be again. "Living together, making a life together..." He swallows. "Marriage." That stops him short just long enough to recall how he'd blazed right past the I love you and straight into how he could keep Tommy. "You scare the shit out of me every goddamn minute of every goddamn day and I've never missed being terrified as much as I have since I walked out that door."

"I'm in love with you," Buck tells him, and Tommy blinks back tears. Takes a shaky breath and nods.

"That's what scares me. It's never - it's never been enough, before."

He'd sort of expected this to end with either the echo of his KitchenAid or a frantic rush up the stairs, but when Tommy meets him halfway all he does is sink his nose into the curls behind Buck's ear and breathe.

His arms drag Buck closer, his feet shuffle beneath them, his chin hooks over Buck's shoulder and he breathes, and breathes, and breathes.

---

"Your morning breath is rancid," Tommy tells him, palm centered on Buck's nose when he leans in for a kiss, pads of his fingers curled just slightly so that his hand is nearly encasing Buck's entire face. He wants to be annoyed but it's mind numbingly hot and Buck has missed it. Missed the snark, and the comfortable way Tommy will shoot him down when his head is in the clouds, and exactly how fucking large Tommy is.

"I'm so tired of avocado toast," Buck bats back, and Tommy is distracted enough by his need to make a face at that for Buck to swoop in and press a kiss to his cheek. He makes sure to make it a little wet just to watch Tommy's face crinkle in mock disgust.

He's in one of Buck's hoodies, is wearing the pair of his own sweats Buck had buried in the back of his closet in a fit of pique three days post breakup. He still looks properly debauched and Buck wants to drag him right back to bed.

Except -

"You don't have to go," Buck repeats, for the fifth time since he brought it up somewhere between peeling Tommy out of his suit pants and rolling out of bed to warm a hand towel under the sink so that Tommy could clean the cum off his abs. "But I need to shower and leave in like - twenty-seven minutes."

Tommy catches him by the waist and drags him in. "I won't be able to stay. You baked and I took as much holiday overtime as I could, but if you seriously want me there -."

"I seriously want you everywhere."

Tommy raises a brow.

"I mean that in a horny way and a codependent way."

Tommy snorts. "Good to know we're approaching this in a healthy manner."

"You told me not to slow down," Buck reminds him, and he gets a smack to his ass for his trouble.

"When Maddie pulls me aside, do you think she'll just slip me a poisoned glass of wine, or is she gonna get up on a step stool and make me stand there while she strangles me to death?"

"She won't do that." Buck leans in again, rolls a loose curl between two fingers. "She'll just stab you in the middle of the kitchen and warn my parents not to step in the blood."

"That's comforting."

Tommy takes a utilitarian shower in the downstairs bathroom and doesn't let Buck join him, and then rifles through Buck's closet until he finds all three of his button downs Buck had tucked away.

He has to borrow a pair of Buck's slacks and Buck absolutely does not mind that his ass is definitely gonna stretch them out.

With about seventy seconds to spare, Tommy presses Buck to his front door and kisses him just long enough to screw up Buck's meticulous timing - by the time he pulls back and gives Buck enough room to glance at the time on his stove, Buck knows they're gonna hit just enough red lights to make them late.

"I love you too, by the way," Tommy murmurs, and just this once, Buck decides not to be a brat about being five minutes late.

[biteyoubiteme]

lemon cake

lemon drop!soobin x angel cake!reader

‧₊˚ ⋅ synopsis In a world where everything is sugary and sweet, it is always fun to throw in a little twist. Quiet and tired Lemon Drop finds himself struggling to keep up with the day to day of single-parent life. Knocking on Angel Cake's door, begging for more than just help, might take care of two of his problems.  ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ warnings 🔞!!! fairytale au, lemon drop!soobin, angel cake fem!reader, slight spit kink, spit and cum as flavored aphrodisiacs, not really but chubby reader implied bc angel cakes body is soft and described as cake (skin indents and takes a few seconds to bounce back), mentions of masturbation (f! and m!), hand job, oral (m!rec), virginity loss, breeding kink, corruption kink, biting, cumplay/eating/snowballing, no protection, creampie, prob forgot some sorry

⊹₊ ݁ . wc: 8.9k . ݁₊ ⊹

၄၃ ⸝⸝⸝ now playing: new emotion- the aces an: ive never been so happy to post a fic before! this was so very fun to work on with my moots. im honored to have worked alongside some absolutely incredible writers- actually wild that you let me in on this when you guys are just so amazing im a little dazed lol. and it was so fun to read everyones fics early and go back and forth on little ideas we found would benefit each others works. this was one of the best things to do and im so thankful for mae and her mind,,go read everyone elses fics pls pls pls they are so so good. anyways love my friends <333 [m.list] [strawberry shortcake m.list]

Angel Cake loved a routine. Most things could be broken down into a neat list of checkpoints, a simple to-do list set up like the recipe for a good day. She would get to the store early, prep the tables, and make sure all the clothes were neat enough for when she opened the door. Sometimes a new shipment would come in and she would take her time checking off every box as she added the new items to her inventory. She loved folding all the shirts up, stacking them, lining them all so neatly, and keeping them color-organized.

It wasn't until an hour later that the store officially opened for the day, the sweet buttery scent from the town's shops wafting in through the doors. Angel Cake would sit behind the register looking through catalogs to pick out new things to order, helping customers when they filtered in and lulled around the shop admiring her cute displays. Almost an hour after opening is when her favorite customer arrived. “Strawberry!”

She loved to shop, everything she wore was hand-selected by Angel, perfectly picked out from the catalog with her in mind. Even the pale blue shirt worn by Kai was bought within these four walls. The sweet blueberry boy gave a shy wave, apple dumpling, strawberry’s little sister, running right past the two of them to her favorite section in the store.

“I brought you your share from the bake sale,” the cream-colored box carefully held in hand. It was one of the small things Angel looked forward to, the soft cake and cream, the first bite of sweetness. “They took a little longer than expected to make but they turned out so good,”

Kai flushed a deep shade of blue, the color only highlighted by the blue strands of his hair. Even Strawberry was blushing, her eyes tacking onto apple dumpling to avoid looking at angel cakes questioning glance. “Berry why don't you help Dumpling pick out a new school dress, I see angels gotten some new ones in,”

It was all it took for Kai to follow after the giggling child, leaving Angel and Strawberry alone. “You won't believe the weekend I've had,”

“Was it beomgyu? I hear he went to the market for the first time in a month and acted so bitter over Cherry’s jam,”

“No no nothing like that, I just- berry and I-” If strawberry could get any more color to shade her cheeks she would, her flush traveling to her ears, “We kind of…”

“You kind of what?” Angel Cake had known for years that Blueberry had a crush on Strawberry. They spent most of their time together, strawberry baking and blueberry strumming his guitar. It wasn't news to Angel that either of them had fallen into a relationship without much effort.

“We kissed and then it wasn't kissing it was- well-” she was struggling to find the right words, the images of the night before flashing in her eyes as she stumbled through the words. “It was so much more than kissing, the both of us were just insatiable and he just- he tasted so good,”

“Tasted? Like when you kissed?” Angel tilted her head as if that would tip the right information into the right spot for her to understand. Tasting someone did not necessarily sound all too fun, she could picture the underwhelming flavor of blueberries and didn't find it appealing at all. Angel was never really a fan of how plain they could be, although she would never confess that to Strawberry who couldn't stop herself from remembering the flavor as if it was spilling right back onto her tongue.

“Not exactly-” but it was all Strawberry could say before the two of you turned to the sound of apple dumping giving a shout.

“Meringue!” the little blonde, dimpled-cheeked child, giggling as she ran to meet her friend, exclaiming just as loud, “Dumpling!”

Everyone in all of Strawberry Land knew exactly how close the two little girls were. Spending hours joined at the hip, playing games, singing songs, and laughing enough to fill the sweetest of souls with the happiness shared between the two of them. Most times lemon meringue would find herself sprawled out on the living room floor, coloring with apple dumpling while angel cake and strawberry tested recipes in the kitchen. The two little girls being the best test testers, never afraid to say when they didn't like something.

Most times meringue was over because Blueberry was the perfect babysitter, teaching the girls how to play the guitar, and finding fun ways to keep them entertained. He kept them busy while Lemon Drop, meringue’s dad, was off at the local college teaching. Lemon drop soobin was always a bit bitter, the slight tinge to his personality always brought forward with his obvious sleepiness. His under eyes slightly bruised from the late hours he spent bent over books, grading papers, and chasing after his little sweet tart. Rumpled shirt half untucked from his pants, butter blonde hair mussed, and glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. Angel Cake could feel her stomach flutter at the sight, he looked unbelievably warm, the kind of person you wanted to slip into and cuddle up. His lazy blinking eyes tracked around the sweet cream shop, deeply breathing in the sugary air.

Soobin wanted a nap, the warmth of the shop hugging him the second he breached the doorway. It was the favorite shop on the strip, the scent pulling him in amongst the rest of the fruity temptations. Buttery warmth hinted with vanilla cream beckoned him in that direction every time. It was easy to get lost in thought and follow his footsteps right to your door without realizing it when he followed his instincts. With an excuse to step inside, he could settle his craving without shyly backing away from the doorway, tinted pink from the recurring embarrassment of finding the shop irresistible. It was okay when Meringue was with him, but when he was alone, gazing through the sugar glass window to see angel cake folding or hanging clothes, it was a little more awkward.

He wasn't particularly known as the fondest resident in strawberryland. He was known to fight back, the sting of his arguments leaving people with a bitter impression of him. It was something that was expected of the debate professor, teaching the people how to stand up for themselves and find the proper form to an argument.

Angel found him to always cut back the sweetness of the people who took his class, leveling out their need to please in a way that she knew people who didn't take his class found caustic. Working in such a closed shop she heard more than anyone else did in the street market, the stalls so open the voices carried over to one another. No secrets could be kept when the air picked up every sound, enough so that anyone could get burned when gossip traveled. It made her shop the gossip harbor, the walls soaking in the secrets enough so that it set the illusion that nothing would make it to the unknowing subject of conversation.

Just last week she heard the run-around rumor mill turning out stories of frosty puff and gingerbread taehyun. The occasional talk of lemon drop, he's just so sour, listing ways to prove someone wrong. Can't we all just get along and not fight? He must be teaching that poor sweetheart of his such nasty things.

It had made Angel roll her eyes. Who cared if he was giving the rest of Strawberry Land a backbone, it was needed in such a basket of softies. But Angel knew she was in the same boat, still a product of her environment, soobin had moved back after finding himself in a big city amongst the rich and decadent. Nothing like the homegrown bunch he had been born from.

Strawberry pinched angel's arm, her soft flesh dimpling at the draw to attention. It always took a second for Angel's skin to bounce back from a tight hold, easily squashed like the cake from which she was named. “It wasn’t just kissing it was- I don't even know how to describe it, we tasted each other in places I never thought to before,”

“Like where?” it felt absurd to think of putting angel's mouth anywhere besides the mouth of a lover, maybe the back of their hand. Strawberry fiddled with the loose ribbon she used to tie a bow on the shortcake box, tugging the strand until it neatly fell away. Even for her name, Angel had never seen strawberry so pink, from ear to ear as she swallowed. “Down there,” her eyes flickered down to Angel's zipper, popping up just as quickly to see if Angel understood what she was saying.

“Berry!” Angel whisper-shouted, shocked, and intrigued all at once. Angel wasn't too dense, she understood to some extent how it worked but never thought about their being a flavor, or even that your mouth was used for more than just kissing.

“Angel, I don't even know how to describe how good it tasted- better than this,” she held up the short plump cake, the sweet cream swirled on top and donned with a little strawberry heart. “And it's hard to taste any better than this, I mean it's more addictive than sugar,”

It seemed hard to believe, especially when Angel sunk her teeth into the light dessert. The warmth of the sponge still lingers in between the ripples of fresh fruit. The frosting was her favorite part, dotting her upper lip in the clear mark of overindulgence, the creamy whips making her softly moan.

The sound echoed in the shop, just loud enough to be heard under the giggles of the girls, talking out planned outfits to wear to school tomorrow, but it didn't catch Kai’s attention, only catching the ear of lonely Lemon Drop Soobin. He watched the way Angel wiped at her mouth, sucking her thumb clean before rolling her eyes, “Hard to believe,”

“Well, you won't know until you try,” Strawberry muttered, closing the box of sweets and tying the bow back up.

“Ew no, I hate to say it but blueberry is kind of a flavorless fruit-” Angel Cake started looking over to where soobin and Kai stood. Angel stuttered in her speech, cheeks flushed and shoulders straightening under Soobin’s piercing gaze. Strawberry not even noticing the hiccup, “No! Not with Kai, anyone else but him, I mean it, Angel, it was something else,”

Soobin quirked a brow, Angel's cheeks deepening in color. It didn't help that he was looking at her with her train of thought derailing in the direction of a lovely open pool of crisp lemonade. She could just smell the citrusy freshness that followed after him, the scent that made her perfectly aware of how different they were, and forced her to face the recollection that she wanted him in a horribly needy way.

She wondered exactly what he would taste like, obviously lemony, but would he be more sweet or sour? Fresh or bitter? He was the opposite of sweet little blueberry who was now clapping at the choice of dresses the girls had picked out. Lemon drop was a streak of verbena-washed clarity in a town full of half-baked sweet tarts. She wanted him to wash over her and teach her things she never would have known without him, open her pallet to more than just the sweets found in a shop just like Strawberry said. Because as much as she talked down on the people around her, she was just as close to them, still grappling with the niceties of sprouting out in a field of pushovers. But she had time to bake, enough so that she knew she wanted more than just a dollop of sweetness to finish her off. She needed the honesty of someone who would be just as bitter as she was sweet, someone who had left and come back, someone who knew exactly what she wanted and had achieved it themself. Only now all she could think about was what exactly you had to do for a taste of anything at zipper level.

“You know, I heard he's looking for a sitter, especially because Kai is helping me so much at the stand. It's great to have Dumpling around but sometimes following her and meringue is a bit much,” Strawberry added, looking right past soobin to where Blueberry was fussing over apple dumplings shoelaces.

“Really?” soobin had broken eye contact to tend to little lemon meringue, carrying the outfits she's picked out in one arm and pushing back his hair with a ruddy knuckled hand. She watched the two of them like she was memorizing her favorite recipe, taking the time to run over every line, connecting the little bullet point dimples the two of them shared. Even when Strawberry took her bunch with her out the door, leaving the two of them alone at her counter, she couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her features.

“Don't you just love it, angel? It's so bright and pretty and does a perfect twirl when I spin,” meringue is nearly a spitting image of lemon drop, the only difference is her hair doesn't have the classic butter blond but a sun-washed version, the roots starting as a toasted tan color before fading out. But even then it's impossible to say they weren't related. Holding onto the edge of the checkout counter, hand still fluttering over the dress she's picked. Soobin reaches into his back pocket to pull out his wallet, grinning with the edge of his mouth as he watches her look up at Angel with her big brown eyes, dimple so deep in his cheeks she's sure she can swim in it. “It's perfect,” Soobin mutters.

For someone who has been pushed into the bitter pile by the rest of the town, Angel finds it hard to believe someone like the man before her could be anything but comforting. It was in his name, lemon drop, so nostalgic, in and of itself an acquired taste.

“I know you think that but I was asking angel,” meringue scrunched up her nose in that little kid's way, the light dusting of faded freckles tucked into the creases like a bunched blanket.

“I love it, would it even be a good dress without a perfect twirl? It's why I make sure all of the dresses in here look good when you spin,” Angel folds the items neatly sliding them into the gift bag. “Here you go,”

Soobin passes out the exact change, hand brushing angels as he lets the money go, surprised by the warmth radiating off the soft contact. Just as comforting as the alluring scent in the streets he shouldn’t have expected any less. Meringue is elated to be handed her bag giggling to herself as she thanks Angel and her dad. “Next time I see you I hope I can see your perfect twirl and soob- lem-” Angel stumbles over the right name, never really having spoken to him personally besides a few light greetings in passing.

“Soobin is fine,” his grin was a mix of amusement and arrogance that whipped Angel around in a mix of unrelenting jealousy. The ease with which he found himself walking through life was something angel only wished to grasp, and here he was, with confidence written into a single smile.

“Okay, soobin, if you ever need help after five I'm always free to watch her when you need work done. Strawberry was just telling me you could use a hand, "Angel says it so innocently, eyes blinking up to him in a way that he can't think about too closely. It takes everything in him not to look down at the very hand she speaks of, even if it's metaphorically. Because he could use a hand, specifically hers wrapped around him revealing the stress he was feeling in ways that he knew only she would be able to take care of. But it was too much to ask in a place like this, too much to think about when he was in public, and certainly too much when his child was waiting by the door for him to take her to her playdate.

“Thank you I could- um- really use the help,” he didn't know what to do with his hands, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose only for them to slip right back down, hand running through his already messy hair. It was the most angel had ever seen him discomposed, more like a stuttering school boy instead of a college professor who made school boys cower.

“Okay just let me know, you know where you can find me,”

It was only a few days later when soobin came by to ask for Angel's assistance, meringue hot on his heels as he shuffled into the shop right before closing. “I know it's last minute but Kai was supposed to take her to Strawberry’s house but turns out he cant and-”

“It's okay,” Angel chuckled, “I know the two of them have been so finicky with plans recently it's no problem at all. I just need to make sure the doors are locked up and then we can go,” and so they waited while you twisted the key, checking the knob twice, and shuddering from the slight chill in the air. In only a few days, Angel knew the gingerbread cobblestones would be coated in the thin glaze of the first frost, dollops of shoveled snow pushed up against her shop looking like misplaced piles of spilled frosting.

Lemon meringue ran ahead, her ballet flat-covered feet skipping between each stone like a made-up hopscotch map only she could see. Instinctively, Angel walked a step closer to soobin, bumping his arm with every other step they took toward his house at the end of the lane. Angel knew this was one of the reasons why he was accepted more than his other bitter labeled fellows, he lived in town, and went to town meetings even if he didn't add to the majority opinions. If he lived down on the outskirts, house kissing the woods or worse buried deep inside them, he wouldn't have a chance of being accepted in the way that he has been. It gave Meringue the best opportunity to find friends and build a relationship with the community before they ostracized her for being anything but sweet because of the name she carried.

Pushing open the door to their modest place, Angel was surprised by the solace laced into the brown woods and honey-colored accents thrown around the house. Stacks of leather tomes litter tidy shelves, and little dolls, and figurines placed by meringue are known only because of how high each item reaches. It smelled of freshly picked lemons and the cozy baked smell of warmed sugar. It was just late enough for the sun to be setting in through the gauzy curtains, casting the room in a warm golden glow. Angel wasn't to bask in the light, curl up like a kitten on the plush couch, tucked in with the knitted blanket tossed over the back like an invitation.

Meringue shot forward, hand wrapped around Angel's wrist tugging her past the living room and to the overly saturated room that could only belong to a child as happy as her. “Look, angel! I can show you all my princess dresses, we can do a fashion show!” She pushed open a trunk decorated like a little carriage fit to wheel a queen in, the lid holding back all the tulle and silk, only to now spill out like an overstuffed donut.

Soobin chuckled by the doorway, knowing exactly how his daughter was. She would keep Angel entertained enough for the both of them, needing no help to find something to do. It was the only thought in his head until he caught sight of Angel's wrist, his little meringue’s handprint still indented on her soft skin. He watched in amazement the way it slowly rose back into shape like a cake filling the tin in the oven. The thoughts running in his head were nothing to be proud of, images of his hands on the plush of angel tummy driving him mad. He had to turn away, leaving them alone in the room to focus on the stack of papers he had on the edge of his desk to dull the image of his handprint on the crease of her hip, dented into her thigh.

It was hard to get work done as is, his mind always fluttering through the tasks at hand, the next paper to grade, the time to pick up meringue, when he would be able to fit in the time to sleep. Now all he can think about is sweet cream dotting the smooth expanse of buttery cake. He hardly got through the few papers waiting for him, red pen in hand, staining the tips of his fingers as it sat motionless waiting for him to write. Hours passed, the soft laughter and chatting heard through the cracked door, every so often a glimpse of yellow and pink crossed in front of his field of vision, both angel and meringue going from the living room and back.

It made soobin happy to not worry that Meringue was having a good time, sometimes she fell shy especially when not near Apple Dumpling. She even had to warm up to Strawberry, only becoming her bubbly self when she and dumpling were alone, hiding behind her closest advisers in the face of someone new. But Meringue had always wanted to talk to Angel Cake even before they had known her to be best friends with Strawberry. His sweet lemony girl's eyes go wide and glittery seeing the expanse of clothes held in Angel's shop, do you think she gets to try on anything she wants? Look at how cute she dressed Daddy! I wish I had her job.

Every little comment only showed how deeply Meringue wanted to play dress up, more so play with Angel. He's sure even if he had asked for Angel to watch meringue in the shop she would have just as much fun as she was having going around the house now. He loved how comfortable Meringue found herself around Angel, and how Angel accepted his girl with open arms.

Time slipped past soobin without realizing the laughter had faded into hazy silence, more than half his stack of papers cleared through and marked to be returned to waiting students. He ran his fingers under his eyes, glasses set askew from the rubbing, sighing into the empty study. Soobin didn't notice Angel until he smelled her, that wonderfully delicate sweet smell of vanilla sweetness making him hold back his groan. He had thought it had only been the smell of the shop. The cake-like walls were made to pull in customers like the cinnamon scent of a bakery wafting through the streets, beckoning all who breathed in the air. Maybe Angel smelled so delicious because of working all day, the scent rubbing off and sticking to her hair, her clothes, her skin.

“She's fast asleep, knocked out almost as soon as she laid down to read her bedtime book,” Angel leaned against the edge of soobins desk, hip digging into the wood, fingers sprawled over the skewed pages of work. To Soobin, she was a dazzling masterpiece of messy hair and flushed skin, dress short enough for him to see the way the desk was pinching her thigh.

“Thank you,” the words twisted into a whisper from how dry his mouth had gotten just from looking at a single strip of skin. Licking his lips he tried to swallow, finding something to say besides the hollow echo of words he had managed.

“Oh it's nothing really, she's a doll,” Angel's eyes danced over the pages at her hand, “you lived in the city right?” even just the mention had soobins mind going back to the dull colorless house he found himself in when studying for his degree. It made him sick to think about raising meringue in a place like that, she was why he had moved back home, not caring how off-put the rest of the town was about him now.

“Yes, I did,” he sat back in his chair, one elbow still resting on the desk and the other laid out on the armrest. He was half turned to angel, lower because of sitting and now having her tower over him. And her damn thigh was there right next to him, knuckles twitching to brush over the smooth expanse of skin.

“Did you like it?” Angel had tipped her voice down to a whisper, the dim light needing the change when she had decorated the question in enough hope and worry. It wasn't as if Soobin’s answer would change much, she knew she dreamed of a city out there bright enough to blind the thought of home but it was hard to leave when it was all she ever knew, she didn't even know if she truly wanted to leave.

“I liked it enough,” soobin bit at his bottom lip, worrying over the question. It was as honest an answer as he could give. “But it wasn't home, not for me, not for meringue. There is nothing quite like the comfort of home,”

“Like this place you have here,” Angel lifted her chin, looking around the packed study with even more books and bobs. “That couch of yours looks too cozy not to nap on,”

“You should see my bed,” it was a quick response, one that didn't pass the filter connected to the bit of his mouth that kept him from saying anything embarrassing. “I- I didn’t mean it like that-”

But Angel didn't get the innuendo embedded into the words, she just nodded, “I should, I bet it's just as warm as the rest of this place, you have it at just the right temperature,”

The lack of sleep was making him loose, his finger drifting out to press right into the outside of Angel's thigh, pushing against the soft plush of her skin just enough to feel the heat from her, “you sure it's not you? You seem to keep warm enough,”

“Oh no, take it from a cake to know exactly when they walk into the right level of warmth. This is perfectly cozy,”

“You do feel…lively,” soobin drags his finger up Angel's thigh, reaching right to the hem of her dress, stopping right before it could go any further. The line he had drawn was like the roadmap to the realization that he should not be touching her like this. But it was incredibly hard to remember his mind when he felt this hazy; drunk off the lack of sleep and the sweet smell of sugary cake.

Angel felt the pad of his finger slip right up her spine, sink into her nervous system, and cloud her mind. Even if he had pulled away, flexing his hand as if that would sink the feeling of her warm skin into his palm, she could swear the touch was tattooed right there forever now.

She couldn’t forget it, not on the walk home, not when she showered the day away, not even when she climbed into bed. The moonlight slipped in through her lacy curtains, the soft gleam pulling her mind right back to the study. Her finger pressed right where she remembered him, circling the spot like she was tracing the shape of the yellowing moon on her thigh.

Even the moon made her think of him, a little lemon drop in the sky, her bed warm enough to picture what it would be like to snuggle up in his. Her fingers were too soft and not at all how she needed them to be to pick up her illusion. Pressing them harder into her thigh she felt an ache between her legs, centered right at the heart of her.

Angel had never felt such a pull to touch herself, not until the butter blonde boy was there just out of reach, so close to palming her thigh instead of just using the tip of his fingers. She wanted his hands all over her, they didn't even need to be warm, she just needed him. Needed his finger pressed on the tormentor's bud that called for him. But for now, she would have to make do, her hand pushed into her shorts feeling along the wet seam of herself never knowing that her body would crave someone so bad without even having tasted them like strawberry had said.

But the only thing on her mind was lemon drop, her hips rolling into her hand, the soft moans drawn out from a mouth so unfamiliar with this sound. Her body told her the way to move, and where to seek peak pleasure until she was a gasping mess, creaming around her dainty digits. Angel Cakes' new discovery was a calamity, highlighting a deep desire she didn't know she could hold within herself. A catastrophe; soobin had been the one to knock a tray of glasses to the floor, already so recklessly close to the edge until one push sent them shattering, angel couldn't clean the glass fast enough, left to never be the same again.

Soobin was no better, he was a cracked vase slowly leaking out in drips of sun-melted ice, he had to hold it together for work, for home; hastily wrapping fingers around the seeping seams only for his thoughts to pour out between his fingers. Because angel cake was spinning in his living room, twirling around with his daughter, giggling until they were a dizzy pile on the floor. His office door just cracked as he caught sight of angels' sweet lacy white panties, clinging to the curve of her ass. If he had knocked over the tray of her sanity, angel cake had taken a hammer to his fragile vase, smashed it until it was powered, and easily passed as dusting sugar on the treats in strawberry’s shop.

Soobin felt his addiction take its toll on him, every night the image of angel cake washed over his sleeping mind until he was reduced to nothing but a needy muddled mess of thruming joints. He couldn't go one day without his hand wrapped around his cock, working his wrist until he was spilling dribbles of cum onto sheets that needed her in them. It was worse when his order from strawberry came in, Kai handing the box over right at the doorway, picking up Meringue for her sleepover with Dumpling. The smell of the shortcake filled the house as soon as he shut the door behind them.

He was embarrassed to have such an obsession with angel cake, sure that she would cringe away from his desperation for her. So desperate he was standing in the kitchen with one hand down his pants and the other digging into the soft sponge of one of the cakes just brought over. The cream and crumb squished out between his fingers as he came, moaning into the empty space until the sound reverberated around him, the smell of her dancing around his body. He wanted her, needed her.

Soobin didn’t even remember the trip to Angel's shop's door, his nose pulling him along the crumb-dotted cobblestone, leading him right to the front doors, so willing to be eaten by the magic-laced girl inside. He could see her through the frosted glass windows, the closed sign turned to signal the end of her shift but she was leaning over the stand of shirts, fixing them in the way she wanted, her end-of-day routine. He could smell her, that buttery sweetness addicting, making him delirious. He wanted to sink his hands into her warm flesh, hold her tight enough so that if anyone saw they would know it was his hands that had been on her, that she was his, and his alone.

He pushed open the unlocked door, the ding of the bell signaling his entrance, that glance over her shoulder ruining him once and for all. “Hi! Did I forget I was supposed to come over tonight? I can pack up real quick or she can stay here-”

“No, blueberry took her- i- i-” he was struggling with the words, a stuttering fool standing in the middle of the shop like he'd come to beg. And he had, he would beg her till the end of his days to have one taste, to have her tear into him like she was peeling back the layers of his sanity. “I need you,”

“Oh?” she tilted her head to the side, the pure look of innocence smashing into him like a wave. He wanted to stain her, fill her up, and call her his.

Soobin struggled to swallow, every breath filling his lungs with her, she was right there on the tip of his tongue. “I need you,” his hand reached down to the bulge sitting against his thigh, hard, thick, and weeping for her.

If Angel Cake hadn't spoken to Strawberry about the zipper-level kisses she would have been confused beyond belief. But it had been all she could think of since then, what it would be like to lick up his body and know exactly what it was that made people so addicted. Because she was grappling with the fact that she was already falling down the rabbit hole of need, to finally taste him would be like crashing right into another world. “I don't know- I don't know how-” she was flushed all over from the confession because she didn't want him to leave, if he needed her she would mold herself to fit and fix any problem he had. Her lack of knowledge wouldn't hold her back, if he was a teacher she would be his best student.

“I'll show you, tell you everything you need to know,” he snapped the button on his pants, undoing the zipper releasing enough pressure to let out the most sinful noise angel had ever heard. She could feel her panties flooded with the cream that had been leaking from her for days now, always tied to the thought of him. If he felt even a fraction of how she did, Angel would make sure to take the best care of him.

“O-okay,” Angel Cake could feel her mouth water, her thighs pulling together, needing them closer to relieve the ache she felt. Soobin locked the door behind him, tugging Angel to a spot behind a rack of clothes. “Here get on your knees in front of me,”

Angel was fast to listen, sinking to the ground in front of him, hands placed neatly on the tops of her thighs, looking up at soobin with those wanting eyes. Just thinking about those plush lips warping around his cock was taking him out, and watching the tip of her tongue wet her mouth was excruciating. Soobin reached into his pants, pulling out his veiny shaft, the sheer size making Angel's eyes widen.

She didn't know what she was expecting but she was not expecting to feel empty at the sight. The top of him was shiny with a layer of leaking pre-cum. Soobin ran his thumb across his slit collecting the wetness to swirl around the tip, moaning at the way Angel's mouth fell open without realizing. “You can touch it,” he nodded, watching how Angel was gripping her skirt, crinkling the fabric trying to hold herself back.

Angel lifted a shaking hand, fingers brushing the side of him, amazed at the softness so much that she wrapped her hand around him and gave a tug. Soobins chest rumbled, his hand reaching out for the rack next to him, the hangers clattering from the force of his grip. “Sorry-”

“No, no you're doing good, just like that, slow and easy,” he nodded, biting back his moan when her wrist flicked again, “you can squeeze a little harder,” he whispered, his free hand finding itself around hers, showing her just the right amount of pressure he was looking for. Soobin's hand guided Angel's until he was using her hold as if it was his own, speeding up the pace.

Angel watches in amazement as soobins head rolls back, his brows pinched as he whimpers. She's never wanted to taste something or someone so bad, and now, with him right in front of her, she can't resist the temptation for what it is. Angel sits up just enough so that she can press a sweet kiss to his tip, a string of pre-cum still connecting her lips to him. Soobin lets out a shocked gasp, watching the way she licks her lips clean.

The taste is subtle, the sweet and sour mixed together only to draw Angel back in for more. She didn't even know what she was doing, compelled by the flavor to envelop him fully, the flat of her tongue licked up and around to collect more of the addictive fluid. Soobin’s knees go weak at the warmth of her mouth, hips jerking to try to chase the feeling, “Oh fuck just like that,” his hand still holding hers, working over the rest that wasn't pressed into her mouth.

Angel cake moaned around him, his bitter lemon taste mixing with the sweetness from his pre-cum. She wanted to swallow him whole, take more of him down. Soobin couldn't even think anymore, Angel's mouth trying to work further down, her hand stopping right at his base. Angel hollows her cheeks, sucking him down like its instinct, soobins groan taking over the silence and joining the soft wet noises. Soobins restraint breaks, overwhelmed by the way her mouth molds to his cock so perfectly, his mind working to imagine it's her waiting cunt. She takes him down so deep he can feel the back of her throat. It's enough for him to wrap his hands into her hair, fingers wrapping softly around her skull as he fucks into her mouth without warning. Angel moans, the vibrations going straight up his cock and making his balls clench. Her hands reach out for his thighs to keep herself steady, tears welling in her eyes, loving the newfound sensation.

Angel Cake doesn't know what to expect, lashes fluttering as he loses himself in the feel of her. It's a shock when his thrusts become erratic, his body trembling with a deep groan, sweet lemon cream spilling on her waiting tongue. Angel tries to swallow, unable because he keeps going, fucking his cum right into her still willing mouth, spurt after spurt following until he has to pull away. Angel gasps, sucking in gulps of air, mouth a mess of dripping lemon custard and saliva.

If she had thought the pre-cum had been addicting, she didn't know the effect the real deal would have on her. Blindly, she wiped the corner of her mouth, licking the cream she'd collected, humming as if she'd just taken a bite of the richest lemon bar. The sight and sound made soobin impossibly more obsessed with her, fingers going down her cheek, pulling her attention to his awestruck expression.

His head was clearing but it didn't stop the infection of her as it slipped well past his mind, into his bones, into his soul. He had heard about how easy it was to save a fruit tree if you cut away the rot fast enough; right at first sight. Angel cake had taken hold of every thorny branch on his tree and twisted herself in the sparse foliage, so deeply intertwined now that he wasn't sure there was ever a time when it would have been an easy snip to rid himself of this fever.

Angel Cake's face was a glistening mess of wetness when he squished her cheeks with one large hand, her pouting lips so kissable and pink. “Look at you,” a surrealistic sigh caught on the edge of his tone. He leaned down, needing a taste of the two of them, the perfect combination of bitter and sweet, angel's sugary spit mixed with his lemony custard making him powerless. And when he pulled away, letting go of angel's cheeks, he watched the way her lips stayed puffy, the illusion of dimples still there as her skin rose back, flushed a petal pink. “Did I do good?”

“You did perfect,” soobin brushes his nose along the bridge of hers, his eyes closing, breathing her in. He wanted to tear into her, squish his fingers into her, and memorize every little action that brought out a sound. But in his post orgasm clarity, he noticed exactly what he had done. He had tainted this perfect angel, filled her with more than just bad ideas but had fully gone in and let his uncontrollable emotions take over.

Even when Angel Cake had gotten home later that night, she couldn't stop licking her lips. She was lying in bed, wriggling in the sheets trying and failing to find a comfortable position let alone sleep. Her hand was stuck between her legs, on the verge of tears for nothing working to cave in a hunger that she was only now painfully aware of. She hated that she was alone, hated it more than she knew the feeling of his hands on her, knew that those long fingers would have been perfect to fix her problem as easily as she had fixed his.

The hunger triggered a compulsion within her similar to the one soobin experienced on his walk to Angel’s shop, her feet carrying her through the streets, half-dressed in her silky lace pajamas. The lemon drop moon cast its path down the cobblestone to Soobin’s front door. The cold unfelt against Angel's warm skin, and when soobin opened the door he could see the steam rising off of her heated body. The haze of it mixed with the backlight of the moon made her look like a true angel waiting right at his front step, outlined in the glow. She hasn't even come in shoes, her thick socks slouched around her ankles, her shorts pinched at her waist, and one tank top strap down her shoulder. He could see her pebbled nipples through the thin material, his lips pursing at the thought of wrapping around them. “Angel?”

He couldn't tell if this was one of his dreams, the kind that left him reaching out in a bed she never saw. “I think I need you now,” she couldn’t find it in herself to be embarrassed by the words, not when she had seen him in the same state, begging and just as needy. Soobin rushed to pull her inside, ready to get her wrapped up in something to keep her from freezing if that was possible for someone so warm. He hardly had the door closed when she was pulling him closer to her, wrapping her arms around his neck, tugging him into her space. She needed to have him in her mouth again and soobin knew he wasn't going to turn her away. His hands slid down her back, fingers digging into the soft skin, groaning into her sugar-sweet mouth, the sound catching in the back of her throat, and she swallowed it down greedily.

Angel didn't know what to do with her hands, her mind shutting off and following their natural way, slipping into his hair, the strands tangling between her fingers, his lemony sweet kisses taking over her mind as he slowly kissed her. But Angel was impatient, whining and rubbing her thighs together.

“What is it baby? Tell me,” he kissed down her jaw, intoxicated by the smell of her, so much stronger when she was so hot against him.

Angel reached down for one of his hands, guiding it like he had done for her, pushing his fingers until they slipped right against the silk of her shorts, “it's so achy,” she whimpered, “and all I can do is think about you,”

She was like a freshly wrapped gift left on the front step, the label perfectly signed with his name and his name alone. A sinful treat he couldn't wait to sink his teeth into. He dragged his fingers along the seam of her, the silk already spotted with wetness, “you want me to take care of you?” the husk of his voice was thick in her ear like syrup.

“Please- please,” her nods are erratic, hips rolling trying to keep him right against her tender clit. Her pathetic cry echoes in the living room when he pulls his hand away. But he doesn't keep his hands away for long, dragging her to his room, having her fall to his bed, right where he's wanted her. Her knees fall open, the heels of her feet digging into the mattress. She's a vision of her namesake, mewling when soobin hooks his fingers into her waistband and takes down her panties and shorts, sliding them down her legs and peeling her socks off, leaving her bottom half exposed.

Soobin is caught at the sight of her gleaming cunt, leaking arousal the color of royal icing, creamy and sweet, looking as if she had been stuffed full of him already. Nothing could keep him from getting a taste. He fell to his knees like this was a place to beg for forgiveness. But he wouldn't be sorry, not after he started his feast. Soobin licked a bold stripe up from her entrance to clit, groan ripped from him with only one drop of her. He wrapped his arms under her legs, holding her open and watching how his fingers dented her flesh, the plush of her spilling between fingers itching to stay there and mold her as his forever.

Angel let out a sharp gasp the second his mouth was attached to her aching center, thighs trying to snap shut around his head, held in place and forced open as she arched her back. Her fingers twisted in the sheets, her breathing only coming out when she slipped out moans. He was devouring her, licking her clean like he was enjoying the frosting before the cupcake, sucking deeply on her clit just to watch her tremble.

Soobin does not care about the mess he's making of her, face dripping with his Angel's cream, moans of delight vibrating against her puffy clit. He doesn’t even notice the way she's writhing beneath him, only that he's now faced with the most delicious meal he has ever had. Moaning into her, slurping up all that she has to offer trying to pull forth more of her sweet cream. And he didn't have to try hard, not when she needed him so bad already, the bubbling building in her lower belly so newfound and yet never before so intense. Angel cake feels like a balloon ready to pop, one deep long suck on her clit has her seeing stars, her orgasm washing over her as swiftly as a needle prick, causing her to come undone. The gush of her arousal keeps Soobin’s mouth right against her, his persistent licks only pulling him in more.

He was a desperate mess, working away at his pants, rutting into the mattress as if that would curb his insatiable hunger. He needed to be inside of her, filling her up with his lemon custard, fucking her senseless until she was begging to stay right here in his bed and never leave. He wanted that, to keep her as his, not just press his hand into her thigh and leave that lasting mark. No, he needed to claim her as his in the best, most lasting way. “Do you want me inside you Angel?” he pressed the flat of his palm into her pelvis, relishing in the way he felt himself sinking into her skin. “Right here, filling you up, making you mine-”

Angel had never felt so empty, not until he pointed it out, solving a problem she never thought she had. Her mewling response was a mix of pleas and whimpers. She didn't care what he did so long as she could have him near, and if he could fix the burn in her belly he could devour her just as well as tear her apart.

Soobin lifted Angel's legs enough so that the backs of her knees were slotted against his inner elbows, one hand reaching down to guide his dripping cock to her waiting entrance. Angel does not expect the pressure of being pushed into, her gasp caught on a half-open mouth of pure bliss. Every slow tantalizing inch stretches her out, her body instinctively clenching around him trying to suck him in. “Relax, baby,” he whispers, his hand sliding up her stomach, up under her tank top to reveal her breasts. He rubs at her skin, soothing her tense muscles until he's sunk all the way into the hilt, her body melting and molding around his.

Soobin waits, catching himself from letting go, letting their bodies adjust to each other. But Angel is impatient, rolling her hips, not even realizing she's trying to fuck back onto him, only that she needs some kind of friction. But soobin is slow to pull out and even slower to push back in, eyes connected to the spot they meet at. Her body was like clay beneath him, so easily shaped into the perfect temptation. Every drag in and out coated his cock in her cream, mesmerizing him, numbing his brain.

Angel could tell the difference in him, that split second that makes his eyes go hazy, hips snapping into hers making her body ripple from the force. “you were fucking made for me- do you feel how deep I am-“ he’s slamming into her, the lude sounds of their wetness mixing; echoing with their moans. All the veins in his hands straining from the hold on her soft sides.

He was pressed so deep into her she could feel him hitting a spot that made her hips sink, her hands reaching out to hold his hands, needing the comfort not knowing what was building inside her. so much more intense than when it’s her fingers or even just his mouth. “soobin im-im-“ she can’t even find the words looking for something that she didn’t know existed until just now.

“we can cum together- I’ll fill you up make sure to pump you full so you know exactly where I'm going to put our baby,” he moves his hand down to press his thumb to her clit, triggering her to jolt, the walls of her pulsing around him before she’s falling apart.

Angel's body is a tightening mess, her back arching, cheeks flushing as she comes undone for him. The pull of her body to his makes him shudder, his whole body falling against hers needing to be close, needing to smell the vanilla sweetness of her skin, sinking his teeth into her shoulder as he holds back his strangled moans. Slow languid thrusts push his lemon custard cum back into her, needing to make true to his promise to have her full of him and only him. Needing to mix together their cream for the perfect bake.

Neither of them knows what's happened to them, only that they are a tangle of limbs, wrapped up tight enough that Angel can still feel the pulse of his cock deep inside her, still pumping into her never having cum so much in his life before then.

Angel feels boneless when he pulls away, her whimper making him chuckle. “I just need to see your creamy pussy again,” the sight to behold better than before now that he knows the wetness is more his than hers. His fingers dragged through her sensitive cunt, collecting the mess to shove it back Into her, fucking her on his fingers for a second. He lifts his fingers in front of them showing Angel the sheer amount of cream coating the digits. “If I could bottle this flavor I would,” he licks them clean before leaning over to shove his tongue into her mouth, needing her to taste what he’s found as his new obsession.

Angel swallows down the cum, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer, twisting legs and burrowing in closer. “you taste sweeter than I thought you would,”

“Did the thought of it keep you up?” he asks, nose brushing along the column of angel's throat. “because thinking of you while being alone in this bed is hell, I need both of my girls under my roof to feel complete,”

“both…” the sound of the word was heavy in her mouth. Not in an uncomfortable way but in a way a piece of chocolate sat on her tongue, melting and sweet, craving to place another one as soon as it was gone.

“Both.” The finality of the word is better than the buttery sheets he’s pressing her right back Into.

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire @no1likemybbgcharlie @chasingthatjjunie want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! thank you so much @izzyy-stuff for helping edit this for me ily ily ily @thetxtdevil and @beomiracles for betareading this a bit, but special special thank you for mae who gave me a lot of these ideas in the first place, her perfect mind came up with the cake like reader with indenting skin and helped with the conversation with strawberry and angel <3

[holybibly]

I've been nice to you little bunnies and let you rest, but mommy's coming back on the air. And since you've been asking about Yunho a lot lately, here's a sweet treat for you.

Unholy thoughts of the day, my sugar bunnies:

You hated your company's New Year's Eve parties, and it seemed that they hated you back. The past few years had been truly memorable for you: a broken leg, an ice angel falling on you (although you're not entirely sure it was an angel because winged creatures just can't have huge dicks and big balls, but everyone in the office loved it and even rubbed it for luck, but that's not the point), and last year your boss threw up on your vintage Chanel shoes, so this year you were ready to say a definitive "no" to the company New Year's party. But as it turned out, your "no" to the party was tantamount to a "no" to your job at the company, and as a result you found yourself huddled in a dark corner of the strip club, choking on tasteless canapés and not sharing your colleagues' puppy-like glee at the fact that someone's dick, albeit a very nice, thick, sinewy dick, was dangling in front of their faces. Although, with a heavy heart, you had to say that the thick, juicy ass of one of the guys that now shamelessly twerking on stage was a real treat, hell, you could swear you saw a butt plug between those delicious cheeks.

Anyway, you didn't think much about it, preferring to concentrate on the cocktails, and damn, you should have thought twice before ordering a "Dirty Santa", because it wasn't a cocktail at all. So here you are, on all fours on the floor of a private dance room, while a gorgeous, incredibly sexy guy in the sluttiest Santa suit is pounding you from behind with his huge cock.

"You've been such a naughty girl, doll, and you know what Daddy does to naughty girls, right?" Yunho slaps your ass cheek with his big palm, leaving a bright red mark on your soft skin. "Come on baby, tell me, or is your throat still sore from sucking me off? Maybe I should let you drink some of my cum to ease the discomfort? You know it'll feel so much better with my thick, warm sperm running down your throat."

You hum something incoherent in response, too caught up in the feeling of his cock trying to squeeze into your tight little cunt. And it seems that your condition only excites him more and making him giggle in entertainment.

"Well, well, well, darling, I see that daddy has to answer for you after all, because you are already so fucked that there is only air left in your pretty head and you can only think with your pussy, but I don't blame you, no, because all this is because of daddy's cock, I can't blame you for being such a slut for me. But, doll, like I said, you were such a bad girl. Yunho purrs, pressing his hot, oily body against your back and wrapping one of his hands around your throat to smother you slightly. "So, doll, all the naughty little girls daddy always fucks raw."

[kissingmensbiceps]

Thinking about college tutor! Kento Nanami who helps you stay on track, especially right before the holidays and upcoming finals. You being incredibly stressed about all the exams and cramming in study time, on top of your regular tutoring sessions at the library. Of course, Nanami takes notice of your lack of concentration, seeing how emotionally drained you are from the endless amount of homework, flash cards, reading, and all around studying, that seems to do nothing but suck the last bit of life out of you. So he suggests an idea that could totally benefit the both of you!

That’s how your usual study session in the library moved into your dorm room, very convenient that your roommate was not there because she would’ve had to deal with the obnoxious sound of pages flipping and fingers tapping on your keyboard, not to mention the sounds of pleasure from your lips as Nanami’s cock slipped so deliciously in and out of your velvety walls.

Knees cramped up to the side of your face in a mating press, his girth pumping into you so slowly that it made you yearn for more, but he didn’t go faster, much to your displeasure.

Nanami kissed the corner of your lips when he sees a tear slip delicately down your cheek. “Aw, don’t cry, baby. Be good for me, n’ i’ll go faster.” He cooed into your ear as your fingers gripped his broad shoulders. “Now tell me . . . What does DNA stand for?” Breath hot against your cheek as you create crescents into his skin.

“I-I don’t know.” You whimper out, brain too foggy to even remember the simplest of things. You gasp when you suddenly feel empty, the warmth of his cock gone when he pulls out abruptly. “What’re you doing?” Your eyes are glossy with unshed tears, already missing the full feeling his cock gave you.

“You do remember, and you will remember.” His tone his firm, making you feel little underneath him. “Now answer my question, sweetheart. What does DNA stand for?”

You cry out once you answer correctly, little praises being whispered in your ear as he pushes his length back into your hot and soppy cunt, strong biceps obstructing your view from both sides.

He ruts into you at a slightly higher pace, but it’s still not enough to hit that spongy, aching spot deep inside you. You need more.

But the only way that’s gonna happen is if you answer the questions correctly, isn’t that right, baby?

So Nanami grunts out questions, which you can recall to the times previously that had been gone over time and time again during sessions in the library with him. Mind flashing back to all the readings, all the papers, and all the flash cards you had been through over the last few weeks.

Crying out answers through fat tears that sat on the edge of your eyes, just begging for more. And each time you got a question correct, he would up the ante, pounding deep into your mushy hole, filling you up oh so nice.

A correct answer? A twirl of your nipple in between his fingers. Another correct answer? A praising “good girl” and an extra deep thrust into your cunt. Oh! Another correct answer? You are doing just such a good job! Cream all over his dick, baby, it’s okay.

Soft kisses to your wet mouth, swallowing your cries as you cum all over his cock, giving you a few good extra thrusts before releasing his own into your sticky pussy. The room humid and smell of sex in the air, hopefully to be aired out before your roomie gets back. Chests heaving, breaths mixing together after he gives you one last lazily, slow kiss to your puffy lips as a way of saying, “good job.” And best of all, you got through almost all the questions on your flash cards!

Let’s just say you passed all your finals with flying colors! :)

[ropebuny]

oh no of course !!! you’re definitely right, thank you so much for this addition it’s an important aspect of it all to consider. my addition of the dom giving the sub impossible to complete tasks was brought up because I personally have had that happen to me and my ex partner, and I personally found it really hot because I had a suspicion that they were essentially lying in order to be hot and make me all needy and frustrated. and I knew that they would never actually be upset with me, we had a very trusting and respectful relationship so I definitely think that something as serious as indulging in an impossible task would DEFINITELY need some discussion beforehand between the two, the dom seeing how the sub feels about it. and I mentioned these impossible scenarios with the possibility of the sub using the safeword if they felt the need to do so in mind. but of course when it comes to the sub feeling the need to voice the safe word, feelings can already be extremely hurt and the trust feel disrespected. so I definitely agree with your addition heavily, maybe these people are just not compatible. this guy definitely should have just communicated with his sub about what he expects/wants/desires from her and her doing the same for him. my addition of impossible tasks was just meant to be something to be considered as a more fun way to deal with punishment, if maybe at the moment the ‘standard’ rules feel too ‘boring’ like the original guy complained about. and how it should only be implemented once the once the dom had full confidence that it wouldn’t hurt the sub emotionally, and knowing their personal limits since you really need to be extra careful in kink and especially when dealing with punishments. I know that I definitely would not appreciate if someone that I did not feel confident with just started to gaslight me like that, but when that scenario happened between me and my ex partner who I trusted wholeheartedly, it was a very hot and enjoyable experience for me. or maybe I am very trusting of my dom but in the moment, I am just not in the right headspace to be treated like that. so the dom should definitely be extra careful when dealing with such scenarios which can easily be hurtful to the sub on an emotional level, it’s not something to be careless with. it definitely all depends on the person and their limits, and the dom should never push these. I also never wanted my post as coming across as me saying the dom should implement these and only these, because as another person has voiced, these impossible to win tasks can definitely become old so so incredibly fast. my intention was to perhaps voice how kink doesn’t have to be ‘boring’ like that guy was complaining about, maybe the sub and dom can experiment with non ‘standard’ rules to how kink is believed to work. I wanted to bring attention to how kink can be and should be creative, but these scenarios definitely all depend on the person and what kind of sub they are and for the dom to be aware of the risks of implementing these strategies as to not hurt their sub emotionally.

kink communities definitely have a soft spot for brats while belittling subs who are “too good/obedient” as if that was even a thing… obedience, especially such that is soo devoted and dedicated like the op’s sub, should be praised and respected. while that guy seemed to not realise just how much of an honor it was for his sub to be so incredibly committed to being obedient for him

thank you so much for bringing up this important aspect of it all, I really appreciate you taking the time to open up and share your thoughts and disdain for it, I never meant my addition of impossible tasks to be seen as something to be used against subs to fuck with them and break them on and hurt them on an emotional level which they would not appreciate. it’s a sensitive issue and it definitely NEEDS to be handled with proper care and respect to the sub from the dom. and in my mind when I was adding that aspect of it to the text post, I had my personal experience in mind which was very enjoyable because I felt incredibly safe with the person I was doing it with and the fact that I caught onto the fact that they were fucking with me on purpose. but I definitely should have mentioned how careful you must be when dealing with gaslighting in play like that, because it’s definitely not something to just fuck around with carelessly, so thank you so much for your addition !!

saw a guy on here complaining about how disappointing it sometimes is to have such a good and obedient little girl, how when she obediently pulls up her skirt and counts all the spanks without messing up it gets boring because there’s no fun in it since it can’t be counted as a punishment anymore. my brother in christ how can you ever become bored or disappointed or feel that it’s not of any ‘fun’ when someone is so endlessly devoted to you and is so so obedient and obeys your every command and would do anything to make you proud. that level of obedience takes real dedication and a really strong willpower and a really strong and committed mind. you’d never catch me calling that boring or disappointing, ever. it’s the farthest thing from it, and frankly it should be praised instead

[sosa2imagines]

Hii, Dad Bucky ask🫶🏼

What would he do with a few months old twins or triplets? And maybe it was mother's day so he wanted to make something really special for reader as it was her first🫶🏼

Hi, thank you so much for this lovely ask. Bucky would absolutely make sure to make Mother's day very special.

Warning- Pure fluff.

The first rays of dawn were peeking through the curtains when Bucky woke up. He turned his head to look at you, still sound asleep, a peaceful expression on your face. For a moment, he stayed still, memorizing the sight.

Today was special. It was your first Mother’s Day, and Bucky was determined to make it perfect.

Bucky slowly sat up, being careful not to wake you up, and smiled to himself, thinking about today and how it would all go. He softly stroked your hair before slowly climbing out of bed, making sure the comforter was wrapped tightly around you and wouldn't wake you up. He quietly walked out of the bedroom, closing the door to make sure that his movements wouldn't wake you up.

The real challenge, however, lay in the next room.

Samuel Steven Barnes and Natalia Anthony Barnes, your beautiful twins, were already awake and babbling in their cribs. Bucky smiled, running a hand through his hair as he prepared for battle. “Alright munchkins...” he whispered. “Let’s do this for Mommy.”

Dressing the twins was no small feat. By the time Samuel squirmed out of his onesie for the third time and Natalia decided to try her best impression of a gymnast, Bucky was sweating. But he persevered, and finally, both babies were dressed in matching outfits that read ‘World’s Best Mom.’

“Mission accomplished!” he muttered, placing them gently in their bouncy seats. “Now for phase two.”

Breakfast wasn’t exactly his forte, Bucky was grateful for the help from Steve, who had dropped off your favorite dishes from a local breakfast diner. Steve also had given Bucky an apron with the slogan, ‘World’s Best Dad, give Me a Kiss, Mom!’ on it. Bucky laughed as he tied the apron, appreciating Steve's humor, and thinking about how you would appreciate the gesture too.

When everything was ready, he returned to your shared bedroom with the twins in his arms. “Doll…” he called softly. “Wake up.”

You stirred, blinking your eyes open to find Bucky standing there, a baby in each arm and a sheepish smile on his face. Your gaze shifted to the twins’ outfits, and tears welled up as you read the words. “Oh, Bucky…”

“They insisted on dressing up for you,” he said with a grin, carefully handing Samuel to you while Natalia remained cradled in his metal arm.

You kissed each twin on the forehead, your heart swelling with love. “You did all this?”

“Of course!” he replied, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. “But we’re just getting started.”

He led you to the kitchen, where breakfast was waiting. Pancakes, scrambled eggs, and fresh fruit. You raised an eyebrow, and Bucky gave you a sheepish smile.

“Fine, I didn’t make it. But I did make the coffee!” He gestured to the steaming mug sitting on the table, pride evident in his tone.

It was no secret that learning how to use the coffee machine had been a two-month ordeal. You took a sip, smiling up at him. “It’s perfect.”

After breakfast, he handed you a piece of paper. It had the twins’ tiny handprints in bright colors, alongside a handwritten note:

Doll, I know this journey hasn’t always been easy, but you’ve faced every challenge with care, kindness, strength, and so much love. Watching you with our kids has shown me what it truly means to have a family. Thank you for everything you do, for them, for me, for us. I love you more than words can say. —Yours always, Bucky

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you hugged him tightly. “You’re incredible.”

You couldn’t stop admiring the tiny, colorful handprints on the card. You traced the edges of the prints with your fingers, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you glanced at Bucky.

“Okay,” you said, looking at him with a curious smile. “How on earth did you get the twins to do this? I know they don’t sit still for more than two seconds.”

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “It… uh… wasn’t exactly easy, doll.” He leaned back in his chair, the memory of the ordeal making him chuckle.

“First, I had to find non-toxic paint that they wouldn’t try to eat. That took me, like, a solid hour. I kept hearing Sam’s voice in my head lecturing me about safety.” he added with a smirk. “Then I thought, ‘How hard could it be?’”

You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a laugh. “Famous last words.”

“Exactly.” He shook his head. “I spread out an old sheet in the living room and put them in their high chairs. I figured it would contain the chaos.”

“And?”

“And I was wrong.” he admitted, rolling his eyes at himself. “Sammy decided paint was better on his face than the paper. I turned around for one second, and he had a red handprint right in the middle of his forehead. Talia, on the other hand…” He paused, groaning. “She somehow managed to grab the paint cup and fling it across the room. The wall might still have a little blue on it.”

You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach. “Oh my god, Bucky!”

“Yeah, laugh it up,” he said with a mock glare, though his lips twitched in amusement. “By the time I wrestled the paint cup away from her, Sammy was clapping his hands together and splattering paint everywhere. I looked like I’d just come back from an art war zone.”

“Please tell me you took pictures?” you teased, wiping away tears of laughter.

“Absolutely not!” he deadpanned. “I was too busy trying to keep them from eating the paint or smearing it in each other’s hair. But eventually, I got them to cooperate. I held Sammy’s hand over the paper and pressed it down while humming to him and he loves that, you know.”

You nodded, your heart swelling at the thought of Bucky patiently singing to your son.

“And Talia…” He shook his head fondly. “That little troublemaker fought me the whole time. She kept trying to grab the paper instead of pressing her hand down. I think she was offended I wasn’t letting her ‘help.’”

You laughed again, picturing your strong-willed daughter glaring at Bucky with her tiny fists covered in paint.

“But after a lot of trial and error…” he continued, “and a lot of cleaning up, I finally got it done. I think I scrubbed paint off my arm for a full hour last night.”

You reached out and placed a hand on his cheek, your smile softening. “You went through all that just to make me feel special?”

“Of course,” he said, his voice tender. “You’re the best mom in the world, doll. You deserve it.”

Tears filled your eyes again as you leaned in to kiss him, your heart full of love for the man who’d gone to such lengths to celebrate you. “Thank you, Bucky. For everything.”

“Anything for you,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “And, uh, by the way…”

“What?” you asked looking at him.

“There’s one more thing,” he said, pulling out a small box. Inside was a delicate gold necklace, the locket engraved with his and the twins’ initials.

Your hand flew to your mouth as you admired the thoughtful gift. “Bucky…”

“Happy Mother’s Day, doll,” he murmured, wiping away your tears before kissing you gently.

You spent the rest of the day in a blissful haze, playing with the twins, laughing with Bucky, and feeling more loved than ever. It was a day you would never forget, a perfect celebration of the family you’d built together.

Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan

@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles

@emerald-writes @caplanbuckybarnes

@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3

@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666

@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch

@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917

@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066

@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt

@unaxv @pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss

[mossangelll]

HII HOW R U?? I was wondering if u could make a yandere caitvi x reader(like a poly relationship). Just headcannons if u like!! I really love ur postss💗💗

Yandere!Caitvi x Reader Headcanons

i’m great, tysm for requesting! sorry it’s taken me a while to get to this ^^

i was gonna add a section on how they kidnap you (figured i’d use it for a different fic) and an nsfw section but i didn’t know if anyone wanted that so i skipped it this time

HOW THEY MEET YOU

ok so vi is the one who notices you first - at first, you’re just another person who blends into the crowd at her fights

but then she begins to see you at every single fight of hers without fail, always with a huge handmade sign that says something like “step on ME, vi” or “vi, you’re the BEST!”

she thinks it’s endearing how someone like you, so unassuming and cute, is hanging around shady dens like this just to support her

you manage to catch her at the bar after one of her fights and you two strike up an unlikely friendship

she starts to fall head over heels for you - you don’t seem to care or even notice that she’s a mess

in fact, you’re hellbent on fixing her and she can’t help but have massive heart eyes at this point even though she’d normally find something like this demeaning (she doesn’t need to be saved!)

all her life, she’s chased after the people she loved and prioritised their well-being and now someone’s finally doing the same for her

you make her feel so seen at a time in her life when she feels incredibly lost and worthless

however it’s at this point vi leaves the fighting scene and reconnects with cait - you gave her the strength to do so

vi always feels guilty about this but you’re always in the back of her mind, a hopeful what if to ponder on the lonely nights after a lover’s quarrel with cait

so it’s nothing short of serendipity when cait starts to come home later and later, talking about a new recruit who has potential that needs to be nurtured and look at that - it’s you

cait knows she needs to be faithful to vi, she would never dream of going behind her back, but she’s drawn to you in a way that simultaneously confuses her and excites her

she becomes your mentor and sees parts of herself in you and that just makes her obsession infatuation that much worse

cait blurs the line between appropriate behaviour between a subordinate and their junior; she shows up at your door randomly for a “work assignment” and pries into the private details of your love life

if she finds out you’re dating someone or interested in someone other than her, your work life becomes a living nightmare

you’ll constantly be admonished for the tiniest infractions simply because she’s wants you all to herself and doesn’t know how to express her emotions in a healthy way

vi can’t even find it in herself to be jealous when she sees the lustre in cait’s blue eyes, one that’s only reserved for her, starts to come out whenever she’s around you but she does feel left out, after all, vi found you first

the two end up having a conversation and realise that they can’t live without you in their lives - all to themselves, that is

OK TIME FOR WHAT THEY’RE LIKE IN A RELATIONSHIP

honestly i think vi is the one you can wrap around your pinkie finger - she has such a soft spot for the people she loves and she’s not afraid of making it known

you want more treats? she’ll sneak them in

you want to go outside? ok, but vi is handcuffing you to her and you can only stay out for five minutes

surprisingly she respects your boundaries and tries not to be overly affectionate with you when you don’t want to be, even if it kills her inside

don’t think you can ask to talk to family and friends though, that’s completely off-limits and you will see a sadistic side to vi she doesn’t normally let out

i imagine her punishments would be something to the effect of her saying extremely cruel and upsetting things to you to remind you of your place

she would also be into physical punishments like spanking but not anything that could really hurt you - she would have a breakdown if she hurt you to the point of serious injury and would never forgive herself

cait on the other hand is essentially the “bad cop” in this scenario, it’s not that she doesn’t love you, in fact i would say she’s probably more obsessed than vi is, it’s that she doesn’t want to risk anything bad happening to you whatsoever

she went lax on punishing zaunites and it ended up with her mother dead - she’s not taking any risks when it comes to you

it harder to tell with cait but she does try to show her affection, it’s just not as obvious as the way she acts to vi

she does like to be physically affectionate with you more than vi does but this too is very subtle

she likes to make these actions seem like a necessity when really it’s for her own satisfaction

e.g. she’ll hold you hand and profess it’s because “you might fall over” even though you can see the faint blush on her cheeks - you’re both aware it’s a terrible lie but are equally too embarrassed to mention it

like in my other work, her shows of affection come from giving you books, painting lessons and expensive clothes, etc. - she wants to nurture your talents and expose you to the finer things in life that you’ve missed out on

she lowkey has a superiority complex when it comes to this lmao but i think she does it all to mask her deep insecurities

she doesn’t want to seem weak in front of her darling

her punishments are more harsh. i feel like she would put you in isolation and leave you hungry if you refuse to abide by her or vi’s rules

i hc that this stems from her childhood; her mother would withhold affection (maybe not to this extent) whenever she misbehaved and this way of thinking carried over to adulthood

this means that caitlyn and vi do tend to argue over what they think is best for you and it lowkey gives divorced parents energy - they’re constantly trying to prove themselves right

it’s a very volatile environment to be in

imo this is kinda cait and vi’s way of flirting too 😭 in the aftermath they look back on it like ‘awww she cares so much about our darling she’s willing to fight over them - so cute!’

their relationship stays mostly the same as it was before just a lil more intense

they’d both be yandere for each other, it just manifests a lot more strongly with you

like, they know they can look after themselves but you’re so weak they need to go above and beyond to ensure their most precious darling is safe

they both plan detailed daily routines for you and you’re micromanaged down to the smallest details: how long you can sleep for, the food you eat, the exercises you do, the clothes you wear, the people you can interact with

in my mind, this takes place at the end of s2 so you live with them in cait’s mansion - they’ve both experienced a LOT of trauma which contributes to them developing a codependent relationship and having to drag someone else into their mess

it’s definitely a stifling relationship and it feels like you’re never truly alone, if for some reason they can’t be there with you there’ll always be a trusted maid or enforcer keeping tabs on you

omg wait they definitely give you a diary and say it’s private but at the end of the night they’ll read through it to see if you’re planning anything they wouldn’t agree with

cait came up with the idea and vi thinks it’s a violation of your privacy but she goes along with it anyway

would never admit it but secretly it’s her favourite time of the day (if she respects your physical boundaries, she’s gotta break some other boundaries - give her a break!)

they just want to patch up the pain they feel from all the losses they’ve had to deal with and unfortunately for you, you’re their bandages

masterlist

[viforavi]

singer/songwriter!caitlyn and producer!vi… known for her quiet allure and silky voice, cait is a rising star whose songs have almost all been produced by vi. most of the lyrics cait writes may or may not be drawn from a crush she has on her producer. vi may or may not be producing cait’s songs because she’s not only undeniably talented, but also incredibly hot.

caitlyn loves to observe the focus vi has when creating her vision in the studio—sometimes she finds herself staring at her a little longer, taking note of how vi plays with her bottom lip and the way her big, beautiful blue-gray eyes dart across the computer screen—but the praise she gets when she records the perfect take is the cherry on top of it all.

“atta girl.”

“amazing work, you did so well today.”

“there we go, princess. knew you could do it.”

she feels her face flush slightly at every compliment and this time is no different. they near the end of a session as caitlyn records the last of her harmonies and the rest of the pre-chorus. as caitlyn’s verse comes to an end, vi smiles and clicks a button on her sound board to let cait hear her next words.

“you did so good in there, sweetheart. i could listen to you all day.”

a small giggle paired with an eye roll is her typical response to the producer’s kudos. cait’s ears and cheeks are tinged pink at the last part of vi’s comment.

“as if you aren’t paid to do exactly that,” caitlyn points out.

she removes her headphones and exits the soundproof room, walking towards the couch at the same time as vi to take a break before the producer works herself to the bone to get this song to sound like a masterpiece. caitlyn’s legs find themselves propped on vi’s lap crossed at her ankles with vi’s hand gently holding her in place, a comfortable position they find themselves in very often. vi expresses a thought she has about cait’s writing.

“y’know, i honestly still can’t believe you wrote these lyrics. i didn’t realize you were seeing someone.”

cait lets out a soft laugh, slightly embarrassed at the idea. the lyrics are… more sexual than what she usually writes, depicting fantasies and desires that she would typically consider private information.

“i’m not! just… felt really inspired i guess.”

“c’mon, don’t give me that. you rarely ever write about sex, let alone ask me to produce a song about it. she must be really fucking good, so who’s the lucky girl?”

she was right. caitlyn rarely wrote songs about sex and even when she did, she was usually too embarrassed to show them to vi. caitlyn’s had her fair share of hookups, but in caitlyn’s eyes none of them could compare to the mere thought of vi: her stupid fucking haircut that she, by some miracle, manages to pull off, her muscular build that convinces cait that she could be picked up by her like a feather, and that voice.

god, that fucking voice and her fucking praise.

even though she was the one to ask, vi’s stomach drops at the thought of cait seeing anyone. she keeps her eyes on the screen, avoiding caitlyn’s gaze and hoping she doesn’t look like a kicked puppy.

“seriously, it’s no one.”

“bullshit, cait. we’re friends! you can tell me.”

“it’s not! i’m really not seeing anyone.”

“please, cupcake.”

the underlying sweetness in her disbelieving tone makes cait want to melt into a puddle on the floor. part of her wants to admit that the object of all her fantasies has been a certain pink-haired musical genius with a jaw-dropping body and a pretty face, but her pride outmatches her desire, even though the use of the dessert-inspired nickname makes her knees weak.

“it’s just a crush. that’s all.”

cait swears she can see vi’s ears perk up. she’s met with a shit-eating grin, and now vi can’t help but poke and prod further to figure out who this mystery crush is. they giggle and playfully fight with one another as vi begs to know about this “crush” and cait wonders why the fuck she decided to say anything at all.

the regret leaves her body when she finds her face centimeters away from vi’s and her arms locked in front of her chest, held by her wrist thanks to vi’s unbelievable strength. cait makes out the curls of her eyelashes, the dark ink of her face tattoo, and most especially the plush of vi’s lips and the scar that decorates the top of them.

shit. why does she have to be so fucking gorgeous?

caitlyn is certain the red all over her face perfectly matches the burn she feels. she feels like she’s opening for fucking beyoncé or something with how nervous she is to be this close to someone she’s known for years.

“you’re really gonna keep this from me, princess?”

something about vi’s lowered voice and her eyes searching her face (particularly at her lips, she noticed) gave caitlyn a sense of confidence that she knows she’ll probably regret acting on. she wants vi, and she’s tired of vi not knowing. she swallows and looks into vi’s pleading eyes for a moment then sighs, nearly surprising herself with what she does next.

her feet find their way to the floor to push her up out of her seat and then she swiftly swings a leg over vi’s lap, seating herself where her legs once were. vi’s grip on caitlyn weakens and confusion is written all over her face with her wide eyes, raised brows, and slightly parted lips. cait gazes at her through hooded eyes, playing with the neckline of vi’s muscle tee. she leans over and ghosts her lips over vi’s ear to tease.

“you really wanna know?”

vi rests her hands on caitlyn’s hips and slowly licks her lips, still unsure of what exactly is going on… but she’s not complaining. her thumbs fiddle with the top of caitlyn’s jeans as caitlyn pulls herself back to face vi, one hand caressing the back of her neck and the other cupping her chin. vi groans at the sound of cait’s voice as she asks vi a very important question.

“do you want me to tell you, or would you rather i show you?”

[asmutwriter]

First Christmas (Dean x F!Reader)

DESCRIPTION: It's your first time celebrating Christmas since dating Dean. Lets just say he takes it very seriously.

A/N - Merry Christmas everyone! Hope you all have a good Christmas/solstice/Wednesday and enjoy some Dean fluff to help you celebrate

WORD COUNT: 972

One Shots / 'You Saved Me'

WARNINGS: established relationship, fluff with a light tone of more fluff

DISCLAIMERS

This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

This story is based after the events of my series 'You Saved Me' (a Supernatural fan fiction) which I'd recommend reading before or after reading this

You roll over. Hand going to where Deans chest should be. Emphasis on the 'should'. You wink an eye open. The bed next to you completely empty. You give a small grumble. Unsure of what the time was but knowing it was way to early to be getting out of bed. Rubbing your eyes as you sit up. Squinting to see if he was in the room at all. It was dark outside. The only light coming into your room was that of the nights sky.

Not able to distinguish a figure you decide he's not in there. Reaching and grabbing for your phone to check the time. 4:07am. You were right. Way too early to be getting out of bed. You give another loud huff. Throwing the covers from your body before swinging your legs out from the warmth of your duvet.

The usual light in the hall was still on. You always had the one outside the girls room on. In case they needed the loo during the night then they could find their way to the correct place with minimal bumping into things. You could see the vague glow illuminating the upstairs corridor and falling into the hall down here. You look to the end of the hallway. Noting the light on in the living area.

Making your way sleepily down. Entering the room you see Dean sat at the dining room table. His gaze glancing up as he watches some cartoon on TV he has on in the living room. Muted with the subtitles on as to not disturb you or your daughters upstairs.

"Dean?" you whisper his name. He quickly turns to face you at hearing your voice. Turning back as he moves the wrapping he was using to hide the objects on the table. Paying the items no mind as you tiredly look at him. "What are you doing up at 4 in the morning?" He stands. Giving you a small cheeky smile as he glances downwards before looking back up at you.

"Well..." he coughs slightly. Looking back up. Trying and failing to act cool at the question. "I realised its Christmas in two days and I hadn't wrapped up the gifts I have for you or the girls... I decided to do it tonight as I know we'll likely be up late tomorrow and I won't have time but I wanted to do it before the morning so I could hide them properly". You smile at the cuteness of his notion. Going over to him you rest a hand onto his upper arm. Looking up into his green eyes as he looks down towards you.

"That is incredibly sweet". You take in a small breath. "If you want to wrap presents up then you can do it in the day. Say you need to borrow the bedroom or something and take everything into there. It saves you getting up at this time in the morning to do wrapping for us".

"But you or Anna or Lydia might suspect what I'm doing and try and look". You give a small chuckle. Nodding as you keep his steady gaze.

"I get what you mean about the girls". You scratch your head. Looking downwards slightly. Stroking down the hair your just dishevelled. Not that it overly mattered due to your already existing bed head. Looking back up at him. Giving a soft smile. "Have you wrapped everything up for me?" He gives you a blank look. Obviously saying no without the word coming from his mouth. You nod. "Ok". you go over to the kitchen. Continuing to speak as you walk to a drawer. "How about-" Grabbing out a plastic bag. Shutting the drawer shut again. Softly as to try and remain quiet so you don't wake the girls. He tries and shields your eyes from the gifts behind him with his body. Exaggerating his arms outwards. You walk back over to him. Holding the bag towards him.

"Put everything for me into here". He looks at the bag then back at you. Gently taking it from your grasp. You turn your back. Covering your hands over your eyes. Hearing shuffling as he moves everything in. A minute passes. Feeling him lightly tap your shoulder. Taking that as your cue to turn ack around and uncover your eyes. Which you do. A very noticeable bag shoved under the table but you pay it no attention. You never did have the desire to find out your presents were before you got them. "Can I look now?" he nods. Moving out your way. Seeing a few gifts already wrapped. Names scribbled into them. Smiling as you see ones for your children. You pick up the newspaper from the table. Raising your brow at him. He gives a sheepish smile. A small exhale of a laugh leaving his lips as he looks almost embarrassed.

"I couldn't find any proper paper". You give a laugh. Putting the paper back down as you go into the hallway and to the stairs. Going into the cupboard beneath it. Turning the small overhead light on as you try and locate the items you want. Smiling at your success. Grabbing out the festive paper and fancy labels. Going back over to the table and plopping them down. "You are a life saver". You laugh. Picking up a stuffed Olaf toy. Moving him to face Dean. Raising an eyebrow slightly.

"Let me guess. Anna?" He nods.

"She told me that she loves that movie and that Olaf is her favourite character so I'm not going to judge" he takes the toy from you. Whispering to the stuffed creature. "You're beautiful". Kissing the top of his little stuffed head. You smile.

"You're ridiculous" you playfully point out. Picking up other items and starting to wrap them.

TAGS: @sojuxxi

[prettiestofpisces]

juju watkins x gf!reader

synopsis: you happen to be juju’s girlfriend and lash tech

fluff✨blurb

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

as juju’s six foot two form laid on your lash bed, you sat down in your swivel chair adjacent from the girls head.

to the right of you was your lash table which held all the materials you’d possibly need for judea.

“so how have you been baby?” you say swiftly playing with juju’s ears.

although you two were newly official, you both have such a tender spot for one another.

knowing each other, growing with each other since highschool, y’all were made incredibly close over the years.

sharing a kiss or two, prolonged cuddles… your relationship was beyond affection yet nothing contained a label at the time.

that was until senior year after learning you’d both be attending southern cal, juju decided to jump the gun. asking you to prom and later on to be her girlfriend

“mmm good…” she hums with her eyes closed.

“too many promotions, practices and flights.”

now your hands caress her cheeks yet you waited to respond.

“you just want some peace and quiet, i understand baby, keep talking to me if you’d like.”

you then alert juju you’re about to start and she, unknowingly yet conscious of something near her eyes, closed them tight without saying anymore.

you pumped a light foam soap over her lashes and began swirling it in, cleansing the hairs or anything foreign.

“what about you?” she spoke out suddenly.

“hm, well i’ve been busy with few clients, classes and missing you but!.. i watched you play kansas and saw you got roughed up” you giggled.

after said, game juju sported a subtle gash on her left cheek due to brutal play. juju never complained but you knew the mark bothered her.

“you can’t tell but i’m rolling my eyes” juju says with a wide smile, following with more banter.

you let out a final chuckle before rinsing off her eyes and proceeding.

after drying you lay tape down on her bottom lashes to secure them and a large piece for your markings and mapping.

“whispy cat eye right ju?”

“yeah ma” she responds so sweetly.

a minute passes as you’re finishing up writing little numbers across the tape you’ve placed and now you’re able to begin lashing.

pluck a singular extension, dip it in glue, place it on a single lash and wait. a simple process yet very demanding.

you hum along to the rnb tunes in the background, filling the silence and soon enough, you hear the subtle snores of the girl in front of you.

as time ticks, it’s been 45 minutes and you’re finished with the left eye moving over to her right.

Please sprout, offer me your tulips

On my fate

You gon' be my blessing tonight

So keep your eyes wide…

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

and… you’re done.

slowly lifting the tape from jujus soft skin you crumble the pieces and toss them away. her sleeping form calm and content, you kiss her cheek to wake her.

“ju… baby, i’m finished” you whisper close to her ear. once her eyes flutter open you take it upon yourself to kiss her again, this time two pecks.

juju does a quick stretch of all her joints and crains her arm back hold your face against her own. turning her head to the right she embraces you both in a kiss, an oddly awkward perpendicular kiss but one with so much passion nonetheless.

after releasing, juju takes a deep breath and lets go of you all together.

“thank you” she draws out groggily. sliding off the table as you both stand up from your still positions. her tall lengthy frame towering over you like before.

juju looking rather seductive with her new stare. you stare up at her in return admiring you work, the lashes which accentuate her eyes so nicely, making your own dilate. you couldn’t help yourself.

“you’re so pretty” you squeal before juju pulls you into her chest ever so gently. loving the feeling of comfort you tighten the hug whilst still gazing at one another.

“what are you doing tonight?” your question filled with anticipation.

“staying here with you” juju harps, her blatant statement taking you by surprise yet you were more than okay with it.

“i love when you’re around.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆..°

and scene.

sorry i’ve been away, sigh..

just a sophomore in college what can i say however i hope you like this little blurb, its very rushed but i just wanted to post bc postings fun.

muah.

[pawpiefawn]

𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼, 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 .𖥔 ݁ ˖

❤︎ alhaitham x reader 2.5k words five acts of love, where alhaitham loves you more with each. reupload + edited from my previous blog. thank u coco for reminding me :"

ask around the bustling hub of sumeru city, and the native dreamers would often describe being loved as something mesmerising and captivating. it is much like a kaleidoscope, twisting and turning enchantingly in hopes that the beads would fall perfectly in place, but it never always truly does; endearing and a lesson for the lovers all the same. the messy beads twirl and turn but there is just some reason why they can’t get enough of it.

the thinkers talk about love like an anchor dragging you further and deeper down into the depths of adoration and affection and infatuation; to them, there are often few clear differentiations between sinking into love and drowning in it.

but for alhaitham, however – love is natural, like the cycle of growth of the dainty flowers and wild grass beneath his feet. a swanlike, enchanting piece of music that flows from your violin’s bow – with the right person, it is as natural as breathing.

but for alhaitham, however – love is also... unnatural, given his lack of experience. he has adoring fans, he has scholars singing his praises and piles of handwritten letters from secret admirers commending his mind and aesthete – but he has never loved before, not until you.

the first act of love. listening, when nobody else will try to.

alhaitham is a wonderful listener. if you ask him, he’d say that he prefers listening, even – he is content to hear all that you have to say, however nonsensical or ridiculous you sound to others. the scribe’s work is simple, so he never truly minds – to sit quietly with a small smile on his face while you talk his ear off about anything and everything – that is what love is, you are sure.

“hey, i’m sorry.. this is just too much right now.” you know they use this as a replacement for you.

“could you tell me another time?” another time will never come.

“just keep quiet, archons! do you ever shut up?” no, i’m sorry. i probably should.

alhaitham watches from his office as your heart breaks with every unwilling individual, each choosing to walk away while you tore your heart out, still bleeding from your ribcage while laying the offering bare at their feet. how could a human being be so cruel? there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ – yet you believe you cannot make it speak because they do not choose to listen.

“...i believe you hadn’t quite finished your story from the last time we met.” he speaks plainly, eyes glistening – with pity or with eagerness is something you don’t wish to distinguish. let it be the same, lest the heartbreaking realisation that he is just like the others.

“you remember?” you ask cautiously. please do, i can’t bear to beg anyone anymore.

“i do. that day about your old neighbour’s dog escaping into your garden. you’re welcome to continue, if you’d like.”

he watches your eyes light up as you trip and stumble over your words, quietly surprised and eager to please. there is a soft feeling in his chest – a warm, weighing feeling nestled in his ribcage.

the second act of love. remembering, when it feels like no one else does.

it is no secret that alhaitham’s mind is incredible. highly intelligent, closely observant, adept at noticing discrepancies – any researcher would fight to have him take a spot on their team. he is good at remembering, you think to yourself – alhaitham remembers everything – the things you’d grovel at someone’s feet, to remember the slightest thing about you, for, and everything you wished the world forgot. him remembering everything is incredible – whether that be a good thing, or not; is another.

“when’s your birthday again?” your co-worker taps his fingers against his chin, looking through the sheet of office birthdays.

“it’s–”

“december 26th.” alhaitham walks past, not looking up from his notebook.

you and your co-worker stare in silence. he...

“yeah, december 26th...” you catch a glimpse of the silver-haired scribe around the corner. he remembered. even if it was just an offhand comment about how funny you found your birthday to be right after christmas. he remembered.

“huh.” your co-worker shrugs it off, noting it down on the list as if nothing happened.

something happened. you feel something warm blossoming in your chest – warm, comforting, lovely all the same. a tender, sweet feeling like the heavy blanket on a rainy day that attempts to capture your heart in your throat and keep it captive forever; there is so much you want to say to alhaitham. it’s nice that he remembers – out of all your friends ( was he a friend? ), who could confidently say the date without thinking twice?

“i believe those are nuts. if i recall correctly, aren’t you allergic?” the next time you see a glimpse of his silver hair, alhaitham peers into your bowl of noodles. nuts – how comical it is to think that such a small, minuscule digit could potentially cut off breathing for you.

“i thought i told them ... perhaps i didn’t.” you mumble, hurriedly spitting out half-chewed food into your tissue. you stare tiredly into your bowl – surely you remember letting the waiter know that you had an allergy.

“you did.”

before you could even turn your head to reply to his reassurance, alhaitham flags down the same, tired waiter. he trudges to your table, serving tray tucked between his arm and body.

“can i be of service?”

“excuse me, i believe we mentioned earlier that they couldn’t have nuts.” alhaitham stares at him in the eye, glancing briefly at your bowl with spat-out nuts beside it. the waiter grabs it, letting out a soft sigh of frustration.

“you are a service professional, are you not?” alhaitham interrupts the languid movement; yet he does not break the stare.

“sir, i am just a wa–”

“my apologies. are you are a paid member of this establishment?”

“i am.” the waiter nods in quiet submission. it is better to shut up than to argue with a man who loves.

“you understand the laws regarding a customer’s health and safety, do you not? even if it’s tiresome, if they had gone into an anaphylactic shock here in your cafe, i believe it would have been a matter of time before an investigation is launched and a lawsuit is filed.”

you hear alhaitham soften at the word they. they. you. you are important enough to him that he’d quietly, but fiercely rip into the waiter over your allergy. (alhaitham wishes you felt important enough to care about your health instead of apologising for not speaking loud enough.)

the waiter steels himself and takes your bowl back to the kitchen without another word.

“thank you,” you turn to alhaitham. “that meant a lot.”

you show him a soft smile, and alhaitham feels a wave of silent thankfulness wash over himself – that you sit before him, wearing a bright and sweet smile and not a pained grimace from struggling to breathe, on your features. he feels the same warmth in his chest once again.

“you don’t need to thank me.”

alhaitham remembers, even when it feels like no one else does.

the third act of love. holding, when your skin feels achingly colder.

alhaitham does not strike people as a touchy person; his love language is not physical touch. touch scares him a little, even. the thought that a simple loving gesture could be twisted and morphed into a threatening hold scares even the most intelligent and strong of men – but he is human, and that is enough for him to appreciate lingering touches on his back as and when he needs and wants to.

he sees you – fingers twitching and rubbing against each other, clumsily tapping against your palms then scrunching inwards – you need touch. you need to be held. it was as simple and as crucial as breathing. your fingers press in inwards of itself, and he watches the colour recede and return once again as you loosen your grip.

“come here,” alhaitham gestures, wrapping your hand around his. there’s something comforting about how your hand is smaller than his; it’s not that much smaller, but it’s smaller all the same. if you curled yourself up even more, perhaps you’d be able to fit into the palm of his hands.

“don’t do that. you’ll hurt yourself.”

“do what?” you look at him quizzically.

“i wasn’t sure if you were unaware, but you tend to self-soothe and search for touch.” he sighs quietly, absent-mindedly stroking your purlicue as he turned back to his book.

“although i believe you search for it too much. press too hard, and you’ll start to feel numb.”

“ah.” you stare at your hands – the left, which he holds, and the right, resting on the cool table.

“thank you.”

“i said before, there is no need to thank me. if it is a simple matter regarding your well-being, i would do–” he stops himself. anything, is left hanging in silence.

“i would be happy to resolve that matter.”

even holding you? would he dare hold something so shamefully broken?

“thank you...” you close your eyes. he hesitates; just once.

“you don’t sound pleased, nor satisfied. was it something i said?” you hear his voice soften.

no, it’s not you. you shake your head quietly, resting your head against your right palm on the table.

“it’s alright. you do not have to talk if you don’t wish to.” alhaitham replies. you feel him smoothing your hair back – a touch so soft and tender, you can hardly believe it to be for yourself. it was intoxicating; his touch lacked lust, full in love– you have never been loved (loved?) like this before.

you feel slightly warmer now.

the fourth act of love. comforting, when there seems to be no one in your corner.

“i just wanted them to be different. just this once. is that too much to even ask?”

alhaitham holds you tightly as you sob and lament; he holds tighter than he ever has before, and he mourns. he mourns for the walls you had slowly built up over time dawn with the realisation that it had been justified all along; alhaitham knows how hard you have begged for them to be unneeded.

“i know.”

you hiccup, ducking beneath his arm tiredly – and he holds you gently. he holds you, arm resting on the crook of your neck as you rest against a pillow on his side – he holds you like he has done it all his life. fitting yourself – not small but not big – into his frame, alhaitham thinks, may very well be the most natural thing the world has brought him.

“they had no right to treat you like that. i’m sorry.”

“it’s not your fault.” you sniffle.

archon, it hurt. you were going to get hurt in every lifetime, you know that– no, you deserved it. that has been etched into your mind since day one of starting your work. that was just who you were. the poor, miserable corner-sitter who had nothing else to do but correct their own mistakes. no initiative, no ounce of thought. why had the akademiya even hired you if its own people despised you?

“you don’t deserve to be hurt over and over, you know.”

how did he know?

“you said that aloud.”

you mumble a soft sorry, and he replies, shaking his head.

“it isn’t your fault,” alhaitham echoes your previous sentiment, almost teasingly.

“i believe you’re smart enough to figure that out.”

before you look up at his tousled hair to reply, you feel a soft kiss pressed to your forehead.

a kiss.

his kiss.

“if you find them still bothering you, come and talk to me. the scribe’s position is – it may not be much – but i know with my place within the akademiya, they will listen. i promise you this,” he holds your warm hands in his broader ones.

“if they do not stop, i will leave. i have no regard for a company that will not protect its own workers.”

he wants to say a company that will not protect you, but thinks otherwise. perhaps it is too much right now after his impulsive kiss – that is the one thing that alhaitham mulls over. he has never been impulsive before; always thinking through and filtering and being rational and all the things that makes alhaitham, alhaitham. being impulsive is not a trait others describe him by. 

so why, you–?

the fifth act of love. loving you, even when you believe people cannot.

–because he loves you, and alhaitham cannot, for the life of him and even with all the overbearing advice from kaveh and more bearable guidance from nahida – he cannot put it into words. for the first time in his life, alhaitham stumbles over himself, words tumbling out like love letters hastily shoved into a sack with a cut into it.

“what is so special about me? you’re always here, alhaitham, yet you never grow sick of me.” he finds himself caught off guard when you ask suddenly, caught in today’s throes of anxiety. your words hang cautiously on your tongue like a snake waiting for the moment a displeased reaction appears – whether you hiss or hide, is something alhaitham feels a modicum of curiosity about, pulsing, and pulsing, until he tries.

“you-”

there are too many things that he can think of, he feels. nahida, give me strength.

“you are- you are kind. and generous. you have a heart for people even when they do not have one for you.” he starts, slowly.

“you listen intently, and you enable people to open and talk. they talk because you listen and you support them with all your soul and it is so evident that you love.”

you want to cry.

“i admit i am not good with words, but you deserve every vow i utter tonight. you love so loudly, and you feel no shame for it – you have inspired me, and i dare confess that there have been many times i have desired to pull back, out of worry that i have felt the distinct possibility that i was about to fall in love with you.”

oh. you blink as if that hasn’t been obvious enough.

alhaitham is deeply and madly in love with you.

“i love you, not only because you are special, but also because i believe you deserve every ounce of love i can retrieve from myself. i know it has been made clear to you that others do not feel the same way, and it hurts to believe that some of it has come from those i know – i promise to be different–”

“you already are, alhaitham.” you feel yourself choke up. love is entangling itself around your trachea and holding you hostage, never letting go.

“you have never treated me with the same contempt. i love you, i know you return my feelings and for that i am thankful. i’m sorry that i’m not an easy person to love, please...” you trail off, feeling his body collide into yours. alhaitham holds you. he holds you, hand on your back and the other cradling your head against his shoulder.

“i want to love you,” he whispers into your hair.

“please let me.”

ask alhaitham, however? you see a soft smile adorns his features as he mulls over the question of what love is to him. love, forever yours, evermore.

[greenandsorrow]

The world we knew.

⊰⁠⊹ฺ Christmas Special ☆ﾟ⁠.

🤎🎄 human!Alastor x fem!reader 🎄🤎

☞ Your world crushes around you when you discover the truth about your beloved, childhood friend. Yet, not all hope is lost, 'tis the season for it after all.

☞ Not very lore accurate in the sense that I didn't want to make you suffer, much. It's happy holidays, not sad! (I'll definitely write human!Al stuff again)

Merry Christmas to anyone who celebrates!!!

Alastor hummed to himself as he strolled the festive streets of Louisiana, his signature smile masking the darkness lurking beneath. The Jazz Age gleamed around him, mixing with the holiday cheer. The streets were alive with the sounds of celebrations. Decorations hung from every lamp post and the scent of cider wafted through the crisp winter air.

You were out and about as well -oblivious to his presence so far. Enjoying the festive atmosphere that surrounded you, you couldn't help but feel excited in an almost childish way.

Suddenly, a familiar voice called your name, snapping you out of giddy trance.

You turned and saw him -Alastor, his tall and slender frame as striking as ever, his smile warm and his chocolatey brown eyes locked onto yours. His slicked-back hair and his stylish attire gave him an air of effortless charm.

For a moment, it felt like time itself had stopped.

"Alastor!" you exclaimed, heart fluttering as you rushed toward him. "I can't believe it is really you!"

His smile widened and he tipped his top hat.

"Ma chère" he greeted you in that melodic Cajun drawl. "What a pleasant surprise. It's been far too long, hasn't it?"

"Yes, yes it has! You look... incredible" you complimented, unable to hide your admiration. "What have you been up to all these years?"

"Oh, the usual" his tone laced with mischief. "Well my radio show keeps me busy. A bit of exploring here, some delightful chaos there. You know how it is!"

He winked and you laughed, shaking your head. "You haven't changed a bit."

The two of you walked the vibrant streets of New Orleans, reminiscing about your shared past.

Alastor led you through the French Quarter, while weaving stories of jazz clubs and his successful career as a radio host.

Eventually, leaving the crowded streets, you made your way to the park, where the lights seemed to twinkle more softly, casting a magical glow over the cold evening.

The sun began to set, painting the sky orange and pink. The glow illuminated Alastor's features, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw and that glimmer in his eyes. You found yourself staring.

He noticed, of course.

"Caught in the sunset, are we?" he teased, a knowing grin making its appearance.

You flushed, embarrassed. "It's just… beautiful out here."

As more time passed, a chill crept into the air. Noticing -such an observant man!- your shivering, Alastor slipped off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. "We can't have you catching a cold, ma chère" he murmured, his tone soft and protective.

The gesture made your heart swell with affection. Despite his playful attitude, there was a warmth to him that made you feel safe, even now.

Later that same evening, Alastor invited you to a holiday gathering at his apartment. His insistence left no room for refusal. "You must come" he said, his smile radiant. "It wouldn't be the same without you."

His apartment was modest but elegant, decorated with garlands of holly and the cinnamon scented candles.

You were greeted with a warm embrace, his arms strong yet gentle. "Happy Christmas..." he said, his voice dripping with sincerity. "You look lovely in this dress..."

The gathering was lively, filled with laughter and jazz music. As one would expect, Alastor was the star of the evening, his voice weaving an irresistible spell over everyone in the room -like he had some sort of superhuman power that showed itself every time he opened his mouth to speak...

You found yourself enchanted, holding a delicate snow globe he gifted you. It was simply beautiful -snowflakes swirling around a tiny replica of the French Quarter. However, as you turned it in your hands, a strange unease settled in your chest.

Tucking the snow globe into your coat pocket, you slipped to another, quieter room. There, on a wooden desk, you noticed a letter. Its envelope was bearing Alastor's characteristic, distinct, and deliberate handwriting.

"My Dearest Mama,

I hope this letter finds you well. I think of you every day, and I pray that you aren't working yourself too hard. I miss you more than words can express, though I know for a fact we'll never meet again. Not after what I have done.

The memories haunt me, Mama. What he did to me… the pain, the fear... It never leaves. I tried to endure it for so long, to keep it hidden from you, but it grew inside me like a poison. And one night, I just couldn't take it anymore. I ended it. Permanently.

I know you loved him once, but you did not know him like I did. He was a monster, Mama. And though the world is better without him, I fear I nave become something worse. The darkness I carry now… it is unbearable.

I do not seek forgiveness. I do not deserve it. I just wanted you to know the truth, even if it comes out too late.

With love and regret,

Your son."

Your hands were trembling as you re-read the words over and over. The elegant handwriting of your childhood friend carried a weight that made your chest tighten.

"Oh Alastor..." you whispered, your mind buzzing with questions.

Before you could overthink it, you placed the letter into the pocket the snow globe also resided in and turned to find him.

A storm had started outside, already fierce, rain hitting against the windows as thunder growled in the distance.

When Alastor saw you coming out of his office, his usual confidence faltered at the sight of you -pale and clearly upset.

"Ma chère" he began softly, stepping in the quiet room and motioning you to follow him. "What's wrong?"

You didn't chew on your words.

"I found your letter. I need to hear it from you. Everything."

The flicker of resignation in his eyes made your stomach feel sick. He gestured for you to sit, but he remained standing, posture stiff.

"I suppose there really is no point in hiding it now" he said, his voice steady but without the usual warmth.

"Yes, I killed him. My father. And I would do it again."

His admission felt like a physical blow, but it wasn't even the act itself that left you reeling -it was the anguish in his voice, the raw pain he radiated even as he tried to appear composed.

"I wanted to protect you from this part of myself" he continued, his gaze fixed on the floor. "You see, you're the only good thing in my life and I just couldn't bear the thought of you seeing me as a monster."

You swallowed hard, unsure of what to feel. "You were only protecting yourself."

A pause.

Your throat felt dry.

Betrayal, disbelief, anger, sadness, helplessness and empathy all screamed in your mind. Empathy was the loudest.

At last, you stood and reached for his hand.

"But you're not a monster, Alastor. You're a man who's been through... Hell. But if we're going to move forward, there can't be any more secrets. No more masks. And it's going to be us, together."

Alastor froze for a moment before his fingers slowly curled around yours.

"You mean it?" he asked, his voice softer than you've ever heard it.

"I do."

"If you can accept me as I am, then I will give you everything."

And he did.

Support a struggling uni student! Thank you so much! CLICK HERE (PayPal link)

🎄🤎 masterlist || Hazbin Hotel masterlist 🤎🎄

This work is part of the nymph's daily gifts! ✨

Dividers by @saradika-graphics.

Taglist: @stygianoir @aperfectidiot @lady-valtieri @what-0-life @clowncollegealum @whatinthepluto @dragonqueenfk @ajajajabdjsjx @ellie-x0xo @1rxsemary1 @ermmmwhattheflipguys @kimkimmm2411 @sukaretto-n @randomuser-89 @crowleysthings @ratskinsuit @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @ilikemyteawithmilk @dontevenknowwhyimhere @dennsfz @sirens-and-moonflowers @diffidentphantom @midorichoco @speedycoffeedelight @cinnamon-galaxies @kammsinn @chibistar45 @alastorthirsty @victias @mezzo-piano230 @shayshaymonyou @atlaloversblog @iheartalastor @mydickisjuicy @pinestwinssimp

[ropebuny]

as incredibly hot as a sadistic, forceful, scary rapist dad, who forces themselves on top of you and gets their way with you, is…… I also get so needy thinking about me and dad just having a fucked up inappropriate but consensual relationship

like them teaching me things cause they’re older and have experience, and how I can trust them cause they’re my dad and it’s their job to make me feel safe and secure and guide me through life, teaching me how to be a big girl and how grown ups do things. me seeing my dad as my partner as if it’s not extremely fucked to be in love with your own father, and for dad to be in love with their little girl

how it’s not just the dad wanting it and you fighting back as they force themselves into you. but it’s actually both of you consenting to it, how you both want this. how you feel genuine love for one another and want to be intimate with each other like lovers, even though it’s so wrong. being all sweet and caring with each other, dad being soft and sweet with you as they teach you how to kiss and teach you about sex and help you learn about your body

learning and improving and flourishing together like lovers do. acting as if you were in a relationship and were not father and daughter. you never needing anyone else and never having a bf/gf cause you have your dad

[berberriescorner]

The Gift of Hopes and Dreams🎄♥️

Character: Husband!Deacon Kay (SWAT) x Black!Reader.

Word Count: 600+.

"A Season of Love Christmas Series 🎄♥️"

Children’s laughter echoed faintly from downstairs, mingling with the soft hum of Christmas music playing on the speakers. You were still in bed, savoring the last few moments of quiet before the whirlwind of the day began. A warm, familiar presence stirred beside you, and you turned to see Deacon blinking awake, his expression soft and full of love as he caught your gaze.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, his voice deep and still laced with sleep.

“Merry Christmas,” you replied, leaning over to kiss his lips gently. The way he smiled against your mouth made your heart flutter.

“You ready to see what Santa left under the tree?” he teased, his tone playful as he stretched and sat up.

“I’m guessing there’s more than toys for the kids,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve had that excited look on your face all week.”

Deacon chuckled, slipping out of bed and extending a hand to you. “Maybe. But first, I’ve got something to show you.”

Curiosity sparked as you took his hand and let him lead you through the house. Instead of heading to the living room where the kids were digging into their stockings, he guided you to the hallway. Stopping in front of the spare room, he turned to you with a grin.

“Close your eyes,” he said, his excitement contagious.

You did as he asked, letting him gently guide you through the doorway. The scent of fresh paint and the faint whir of a fan greeted you. “Okay,” he said softly. “Open them.”

When you did, your breath caught in your throat. The room was completely transformed. A sleek, modern desk sat against the far wall, complete with a state-of-the-art computer, a ring light, and a microphone. Shelves filled with decor, books, and supplies lined the walls, and a cozy chair was tucked into the corner.

“What… what is this?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s your new office,” Deacon said, stepping beside you. “I know you’ve been dreaming about starting your content creation career, and I figured it was time you had a space of your own to make it happen.”

Emotion welled up in your chest as you turned to face him. “Deacon, I don’t know what to say. This is incredible, but… I don’t know if I can do it. What if I fail?”

He cupped your face in his hands, his blue eyes steady and filled with reassurance. “You’re not going to fail. You’ve got so much talent and heart, and people are going to see that. You’ve been amazing at everything you’ve put your mind to—being a momma, a wife, a friend. This is just one more thing you’re going to be amazing at.”

Tears spilled over as you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him tightly. “Thank you,” you whispered. “For believing in me when I can’t always believe in myself.”

“I always will,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re going to be incredible, sweetheart. I know it.”

As you pulled back to take in the room again, a spark of excitement began to replace the fear. This wasn’t just a gift; it was a sign of how much he believed in you, a reminder that it was okay to chase your dreams.

“You ready to see what else the day has in store?” he asked, slipping an arm around your waist.

“Absolutely,” you said, smiling up at him. “This is already the best Christmas ever.”

With that, the two of you headed back to the living room, hand in hand, ready to embrace the joy of the holiday together.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, my babies! MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄♥️!!

Tagging some lovelies:

@darqchilddaydreamz @astoldbychae @starrynite7114 @1andonlytashae @prettyyybrownroundd @sunshine-flower @ravennaortiz

[doujinshigirlai]

in your arms, I melt <3

Sypnosis:you surprise visit your boyfriend and his reaction is adorable

MAKNAE LINE - HYUNG LINE

Warnings:none!!

Genre:fluff

Requests: OPENNN!!!!

ENJOY POOKIE

**Han** Han’s energy was infectious, and he could always find a way to make you laugh. But when it was just the two of you, he could be incredibly sincere, a side that only came out when you were around. You found him working on some new beats in the studio, his headphones on, and his head bobbing to the rhythm. You quietly approached him, tapping him on the shoulder, and he jumped, immediately pulling his headphones off. “Y/N! You scared me!” You laughed, sitting next to him. “I didn’t mean to. You get so lost in your music.” Han smiled, ruffling your hair. “Yeah, but it’s not the same without you here. It’s like I can’t fully focus until I know you’re around.” You smirked. “Is that so?” He leaned in, his voice lower now, almost teasing. “Yeah, I need my muse, after all.” You raised an eyebrow. “Your muse, huh?” Han’s smile softened, and he kissed you gently. “The best kind of muse.”

Rest of the members under the cut ✨

**Felix** Felix had always been the embodiment of warmth, and with you, he was even more so. You’d just entered the kitchen to find him humming as he prepared a meal, the soft light of the setting sun casting a golden glow over him. When he saw you, his entire face lit up. “Y/N!” he exclaimed, rushing over to greet you with a hug. “You’re here!” You giggled, enjoying his enthusiasm as he pulled you close. “I couldn’t stay away from you.” He smiled down at you, his eyes soft. “I’m so glad. I’ve been thinking about you all day.” You kissed his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin. “What’s for dinner?” Felix led you over to the stove, showing off his meal with pride. “I made your favorite, just for you. I thought it might make you feel at home.” You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the simple comfort of being in his presence. “It feels perfect. Just like this moment with you.” Felix pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his voice sincere. “You make everything feel perfect, Y/N.”

**Seungmin** Seungmin’s calm nature was a comfort, and when it was just the two of you, he could be completely in the moment. Today, you found him reading a book by the window, and when you entered, he looked up with a peaceful smile. “Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice warm and steady. “I’m glad you came by.” You sat beside him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I wanted to spend some quiet time with you.” Seungmin turned slightly, resting his hand on yours. “I’ve missed this. Just you and me, without any distractions.” You smiled, your heart feeling light. “I feel the same way. You’re the calm to my storm, Seungmin.” He looked down at you, his eyes softening. “You’re my anchor. I need you in my life, Y/N.” You closed your eyes, feeling the contentment in his embrace. “I need you too, Seungmin.”

**I.N** I.N’s energy was contagious, and he could always make you laugh. You found him in the living room, sitting on the floor with his phone in hand. The moment he saw you, he jumped up, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree. “There you are!” he said excitedly, running over to pull you into a tight hug. “I was waiting for you.” You laughed, wrapping your arms around him. “I know, I know. I’m never late on purpose.” I.N pouted slightly, though it was all for show. “It’s just… I missed you. Everything feels brighter when you’re here.” You cupped his face, teasing him. “Are you getting all soft on me now?” He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. “Only for you, Y/N. You bring out the best in me.” You kissed his cheek, ruffling his hair affectionately. “And you bring out the best in me, too.”