#distraction confectionary

[domini-porter]

I'm making hard-set fudge so I can grate it to use for stracciatella in ice cream and also to have Something To Do because my brain is VERY into grumbling at the moment but I'd forgotten it takes SIX HOURS to make hard-set fudge (30 mins constant stirring to a boil, 3 minutes of letting the cocoa slurry freely boil to a particular temp, removing it from heat and letting it sit for 45-60 minutes until it cools to a particular temp before mixing in butter, 4-5 hours to set at room temp) and since the first 2ish hours require a hard alternation between constant vigilance and waiting around my mood has NOT improved (the fudge itself is going p good so far, even though posting about it pre-butter integration, when there's still the possibility of the base splitting, is kind of like spitting in the face of the gods, but maybe the gods deserve it sometimes)

[oswildin]

How I like to imagine Mobius got Loki to the confectionary stand:

Mobius: We should be thorough

Loki: Of course

Mobius: Really thorough

Loki: I already agreed with you

Mobius: Like so thorough that we should really check every nook and cranny

Loki: I don’t think that’s necess-

Mobius: Let’s check if Miss Minutes is hiding at Cracker Jack

Loki: Cracker what? Who’s Jack?

Mobius: My inside man, my man on the job-

Loki: You don’t have an inside man, I’m the inside man-

Mobius: No you’re my outside man, my action guy

Loki: I feel you’re trying to distract me

Mobius (already holding popcorn): Distract you? Me? Never

[mxnsterbabe]

Male Shapeshifter/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 2,334 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

You left home hoping for a new beginning, and stumble upon a safe haven in the carnival. The owner isn't what he seems, but maybe that's exactly why you trust him.

You sat on the edge of the hotel bed, a small stack of crumpled notes and coins spread out in front of you. Counting them for the third time didn’t change the total; it was still worryingly low. This money was supposed to buy you a new life; but all you had left was spare cash.

Had it been the right choice, leaving everything behind? The question gnawed at you as you glanced around the sparsely furnished hotel room. No roots put down, just fleeting encounters and temporary addresses. You had envisioned this journey as a liberation, a chance to get away from your stifling life. Maybe you’d been wrong.

Your eyes wandered to the window, drawn to a flicker in the distance. Past the glow of the streetlights, there was something different tonight—a distant glow. Squinting, you tried to make sense of it. A carnival, maybe? Curious, you leaned closer against the cool glass. 

The light hadn’t been there yesterday, had it? It drew you in, a golden glow against the black sky.

With a deep breath, you considered your dwindling funds once more. Maybe what you needed was a distraction, something fun and cheap to take your mind off things until you figured out a more… permanent solution.

Without waiting to change your mind, you tossed the purse into a handbag. Locking the door, a familiar twinge of uncertainty tugged at you as you made your way to the lobby. The night air greeted you with a crisp chill, and you shivered.

Outside, the street was unusually alive for this time of evening. Groups of people, families, and couples, all seemed to be migrating in the same direction—towards the bright lights that had captured your curiosity. 

Among them, a young orc man followed, his green skin glowing slightly under the street lamps. Maybe noticing your intrigued gaze, he smiled and shared, "it's Avalon Carnival. Comes around every summer. Haven't missed it since I was a kid." His voice carried a nostalgic warmth that made the lights ahead seem even more inviting.

With nothing more than a polite nod, you fell into step with the moving crowd, letting the hum of their excitement wash over you. The streets soon gave way to an open field, transformed into a bustling carnival ground. 

As you crossed the threshold, the real essence of the carnival came into full view—it was nothing like the cheap, gimmicky fairs you had visited as a kid.

This was the real thing.

Strings of lights crisscrossed overhead, casting a soft glow that illuminated faces filled with awe. You imagined your own face must have looked the same.

Tair was alive with the rich, sweet scents of candied apples and spicy mulled wine. Stalls lined the pathway, each offering a glimpse of something new — frmo games to handmade confectionary, to dwarven artisans selling little trinkets.

Further in, the carnival opened up into a wider space where performers waved at the audience. Acrobats twirled and flipped with elven grace. The gathered crowd, mostly elves and humans, watched on in rapt silence.

As you absorbed the dazzling display, a sudden tap on your shoulder jolted you from your reverie. Heart skipping, you whipped around — and your breath caught in your throat at the sight of the man standing before you. 

Dark hair fell to his shoulders, swept back to reveal sharp, angular cheekbones and stubble dusting his chin. When he smiled, crows feet crinkled at the corner of his eyes and oh, he was lovely.

His eyes, startlingly blue, softened as you looked up at him. The corners of his lips tilted in a knowing smile. "You look a bit lost," he remarked, his voice a smooth. "Do you need help?"

"No, thank you," you replied, your voice steadier than you felt. Despite your words, his gaze lingered, and your cheeks warmed.

"I'm Avalon," he said, "if you need anything, just call my name and I’ll appear.”

Avalon. Hadn’t you heard that name before..? 

Oh! This was Avalon’s Carnival. Which meant… he owned this place.

The revelation made your heart stutter. The owner himself, standing right in front of you. You wondered why he had bothered to even say hello; you were nobody important. Nobody at all.

"I hope you're enjoying the night," he continued, his voice pulling you back from the edge of your thoughts. "This place is meant to be a sanctuary, a spot of light for those who are far from home."

His words struck a chord. You were far from home, if you even still had one. Yet here in this space, the possibility of staying suddenly seemed more real. 

The warmth in Avalon’s eyes, the slight tilt of his head as he regarded you—it all spoke of a kindness that was as disarming as it was genuine.

"Perhaps I could show you around?" Avalon offered, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "There’s much to see, and sometimes, the best parts of the carnival are not the obvious ones."

With a breath, you nodded. “That actually sounds lovely. Thank you.”

When Avalon extended his arm, you took it, practically melting into his warm body. He was so much taller than you, so much broader. He smelled faintly of cinnamon. 

Together, you began to weave through the carnival. The crowds seemed to part naturally for Avalon, people moving aside without seemingly meaning to.

As you walked past trapeze artists, and stalls brimming with all manner of foods and trinkets, a sense of delight washed over you. The air was filled with the sweet aroma of roasting nuts, and Avalon’s strange cinnamon cologne. 

Yet, as enchanting as the carnival was, you found your gaze drifting back to Avalon. There was something undeniably captivating about him. Whenever you glanced away, you noticed subtle shifts in his appearance—nothing drastic, but enough to blur the details if you looked from the corner of your eyes. 

His hair seemed to darken slightly, then lighten; his eyes occasionally flickered from one shade to another. Sometimes, his ears looked slightly pointed like an elf’s.

Your lips parted to ask about it, but those beautiful, expressive eyes fixed on you — your questions dissolved.

Turning away, cheeks hot, you quietened.

You expected him to lead you to another show, or maybe a grand tent that hosted the main events. Instead, Avalon guided you away from the heart of the carnival to a small hill on its outskirts. The noise of the carnival receded gently into a comforting hum, and the view from the hill was breathtaking. 

The carnival lights spread out before you, as far as you could see. Although you could still hear the buzz of the guests, it dimmed to a low murmur.

"Why here?" you found yourself asking, looking up at Avalon. When he smiled, you caught a glimpse of sharp teeth before he disentangled himself from your grip.

“I come here when I need to think,” Avalon said. “When it all gets a bit too much. You look like someone with a lot on your mind. Maybe you could make use of this spot, too.”

Nearby, someone had set up picnic benches and chairs, likely for quiet moments just like this. You moved towards them, the grass tickling your ankles, and took a seat on one of the benches. 

Avalon joined you, sitting across with his own gaze lingering on the scene. As you both settled in, your feet accidentally bumped under the table. It was a small, unexpected touch that sent a gentle ripple of awareness through you. You looked up, meeting his eyes, and for a moment, the vibrant carnival below faded into the background.

"Thank you," you said, your voice soft but sincere, "for showing me this place. It’s more than I could have expected." You paused, the question that had been gently simmering within you now finding its voice. "Why me, though? What makes me special?"

Avalon’s gaze returned to the carnival, but you sensed his attention was fully on you. "I have a certain... ability," he began, turning back to look at you with a thoughtful expression. "I can sense emotions. Among a sea of happy carnival-goers, you stood out. There’s something on your mind, something important."

You said nothing, trying to ignore how your heart fluttered. He moved as if to stand, perhaps feeling that his presence might impose; but as he rose, you reached out without thinking to take his hand. He paused.

"Please, stay," you found yourself saying, voice soft.

Avalon looked at your joined hands, then back at you, and something unspoken passed through his eyes before he sat down again, this time a little closer. 

As you both sat in silence, you couldn’t help but observe Avalon from the corner of your eye. His appearance shifted, almost imperceptibly, under the carnival lights. For a second he looked almost orcish, his features rough, skin tinged green; but as soon as you turned to look directly at him, he looked the same as always. 

It was mesmerizing, this chameleon-like nature of his. What was he? 

The quiet between you stretched comfortably, and your foot bumped his again. This time he didn’t move away and so neither did you, Converse gently tapping his boot.

You didn’t know why you had the sudden urge to tell Avalon everything. Maybe it was the silence, or his smile, or the fact that he had taken you to this quiet spot for no other reason that he wanted to.

"I left home," you admitted finally, brows scrunched as you said it.  "I was hoping to start new somewhere else. My family... they broke my trust." You paused, gathering the strength to continue. Biting your lip, you said, “they demanded money and never paid me back. Then my rent went up and I asked for the money back to put a deposit down somewhere new. They refused. I lost my house, and they wouldn't take me in. I haven't seen them since."

Avalon listened, his expression unchanging, yet his eyes softened. They were more green now, than blue.

“My parents have always been overspenders. Trips to Las Vegas, gambling. They were in a lot of debt, and I did my best to help them but… I think they resented that I started asking questions. That I wanted the money back.”

He stayed quiet, but one slender hand reached out to clasp yours. 

“It’s not like I asked for it back all at once. Just… I hoped they would have helped me the way I helped them, you know?”

Silence settled between you. The wind rustled. Below, cheers rose up from one of the big tents.

Finally, Avalon spoke. "Thank you for trusting me with your story. Places like these," he gestured vaguely at the carnival below, "they're meant to be sanctuaries. A lot of the people here have families who didn’t love them the way they should have. You’re not alone here."

His hand squeezed yours. You squeezed back. Sharp nails tickled your palm, never enough to actually hurt.

"You could stay," he said suddenly, voice firm but quiet. "There’s no need to decide right away what you’d do here. We have many roles, and everyone finds their place in time. Everyone is treated fairly, too.”

He shifted, free hand splayed across the picnic bench. Your own were beginning to sweat, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to move away. 

“You could talk to some of the carnival family, see for yourself."

The idea settled within you. The chance to travel with the carnival, to be part of a community — a family, even — was more than tempting. It was a vision of a life you had longed for, one where you could find your people. Live a life you wanted.

He was watching you, a softness in his eyes that made you shift. The carnival lights cast a warmth across his face, long lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones.

The world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, the background noise of the carnival fading into a distant murmur. 

Your heart beat a little faster, and without consciously deciding to, you found yourself leaning slightly closer. How easy would it have been, to lean in and press your lips to his?

Now, where had that thought come from? Remembering that he could sense emotions, you wondered if he knew how much you wanted to kiss him.

The sky was beginning to darken fully now, the first stars twinkling above you. You glanced up, smiling. 

“I never realised how beautiful the countryside is.”

When you looked back, Avalon looked different. His hair was longer, his eyes narrower. You swore they were almost golden. 

Before, you could have put his appearance down to a trick of the light. Now, even as you looked directly at him, you could see the gentle flux of his features — sharp and elven one second, skin almost glittering. Broader the next, with sharp teeth and blue-tinged skin.

Avalon turned away slightly, cheeks hot under your stare. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I hope this won’t affect your choice to stay.”

Without thinking, you leaned across the picnic table, your heart guiding your actions, and gently took his jaw in your hand. His skin was warm under your touch, and as you guided his face towards you, you felt him relax.

Without a word, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that made you shiver in delight. The kiss was gentle, his lips soft against your own; you sighed into it, eyes slipping closed, allowing Avalon’s presence to envelop you.

Finally, as you pulled away, the world rushed back in — the lights, the sounds, the chill of the night air. None of it could dispel the warmth that had blossomed in your chest. You smiled, a little breathlessly, and the words that followed were quiet.

"I'll stay."

He smiled, revealing pointed teeth. “I’m glad.”

[amywritesthings]

gingerbread sweet. / a reiner holiday ficlet

pairing: reiner braun x f!reader ( attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin ) word count: 1.1k summary: It's the Titan frat's annual gingerbread house competition. Your boyfriend, Reiner Braun, is determined to win. You, however, are determined to distract.

tags: modern au - university, holiday fluff, gingerbread houses, all the marleyans are in a frat bc i said so, devoted boyfriend!reiner, light sexual tension credit: dividers by @saradika

welcome to the eleventh day of the twelve days of amymas !!

“Does the door look crooked to you?”

"The what?"

"The door. Look at it."

There’s nothing more amusing than watching your hulk of a boyfriend crouch over a tiny gingerbread house.

Reiner Braun squints as he presses a gumdrop to the front — circular windows make it modern, or so he claims — then pauses.

Distracted by a very minor detail, you can already feel his anxiety running his brain a mile a minute: a lopsided door may deduct a few points from Marcel's arbitrary points system from this very arbitrary holiday competition.

Because he's absolutely fucking determined to win.

Granted, the bragging rights are his, but the grand prize will not be — Reiner, of course, rarely rides this hard for something he wants.

No, he’s too willing to put everyone else's wants and needs above his own.

So the grand prize of the Titan fraternity annual gingerbread house competition is going to go to you, hell or high water.

He’s going to win you that goddamn spa day gift card that Marcel has been dangling as a sweet little incentive no matter how long it takes him to mold this gingerbread house into his image.

"I think it looks straight."

The tip of his pink tongue pokes out a little from his pressed lips as he leans in closer. "...I trust your eye more than mine."

The blonde sits up to fish for the green icing piping bag. He's gentle with the way he eases the icing along the edges of the tiny confectionary door.

(An icing wreath, like this couldn't be anymore adorable.)

“Reiner?” you coo.

“Yeah, babe.”

Flat. He’s in the zone.

“You know you don’t have to slave over this thing, right?”

You scoot your chair closer to his, dropping your temple to his large tricep.

“I can buy my own spa day card.”

“False,” he corrects. “I’ll buy you the spa day card myself, but if I gotta cheat Porco out of winning for the third year in a row. Pieck’s gone at least five times on our dime.”

"When were the other two times?" you ask, not correlating the math.

"Well, our freshman year," Reiner begins, using the green icing to make little bushes at the foundation of the house, "we did a Valentine's day relay race that ended up with Bert in urgent care with a broken nose. Then, the one-and-only pool party chicken fight tournament — Pieck and Porco fought dirty."

"Is that why it was the one and only?"

"Yeah. Bert got another bloody nose, but that time from Annie going a little too hard."

He snorts.

"We had to save him from becoming the next Owen Wilson, so — no more chicken tournaments."

Titan frat is… well, excessively competitive, you've learned in your year or so of dating Reiner.

(Blame Porco and the new pledge, Eren Yeager, for only exasperating in this year with the month-long holiday challenges.)

You shrug a shoulder. “I could help.”

“And mess up your pretty nails?” Reiner shakes his head, glancing briefly through his peripheral vision. He smirks. “Ain’t no way.”

Right.

Reiner’s also very giving, during this season — in more ways than one.

First it was the fully-paid-for manicure yesterday.

Then it was the reservation for a Christmas Eve dinner to your favorite spot in the inner city.

Now he’s trying to win Marcel's approval in this ridiculous decorating contest in your name, and you feel… well, loved.

(There's no disputing that you've won the boyfriend lottery.)

Which, of course, means you have only one thing you can do in this situation.

He’s too wound up.

Distracted.

So you reach down to the pile of icing supplies strewn about, picking the small red accented tube.

You swipe some on the tip of your finger, mindful not to get it under your nails.

Reiner doesn’t even see it happening.

He’s too busy playing fixer-upper on the front side of the house, his too-big hands delicately toying with the too-small decorations he’s pasting on the cookie.

You wait a few seconds, letting him place the door where he wishes, before swiping the icing over the side of his neck.

Reiner tenses, turning to see what the hell just hit his neck, but he’s too late—

You’re already leaning in, sliding the tip of your tongue along his skin.

The man gasps, dropping his own piping bag to the supply assortment below.

“What are you—”

“Decorating,” you murmur nonsensically, grinning from ear to ear as his attention disappears completely from the gingerbread house to you.

“The guys are in the other room,” he rasps, eyes wide.

The pledges, he means — banished to the enclosed patio as they work on their own poorly-designed houses.

Through the last year while dating Reiner,  you’ve learned very quickly how sensitive he is.

Sometimes all it takes is a look to get him hard.

Your ego has never recovered, and it’s not deflating now.

Except his eyes soften and a gentle chuckle exits his throat when his golden eyes search your face.

“Wait, you got—”

“What?”

His hand gently cradles your jaw. 

“Hold still, baby.”

His thumb raises to swipe at your nose, where his smile only grows.

You stay still, obedient to his command, unable to stop looking at him.

God, he’s gorgeous.

He’s so fucking gor—

Something touches your lips, and you belatedly realize Reiner’s taken it upon himself to push the red icing along the seam of your lips, parting them easily.

You can taste the sugary sweetness on the tip of your tongue.

“Shit, sorry." When your brows knit in confusion, Reiner explains himself. "Seems like I missed a spot.”

Oh.

Oh.

His pupils dilate as his gaze drops to your lips, as if he’s ready to devour your whole.

Your entire body turns into flames.

“Just one spot?” you murmur, and a wicked smirk crawls to his mouth.

That same thumb drops to glide the remaining icing over your chin.

“I fear it's a couple of spots, but don't worry. I'll get you cleaned up.” He tilts his chin. “I take care of my girl, remember?”

(As if you could ever forget.)

His words get your blood pumping. Pledges and wandering eyes be damned.

“What about the gingerbread house?” you murmur, entranced by the way he continues absently swiping icing over your jaw, chin, and cheeks.

(Marking a trail his lips will devour.)

“We can bring the icing upstairs,” Reiner suggests with an innocent shrug. You know it’s anything but. “I’ll finish that damn house eventually, but I have something sweeter to tend to.”

Before you can say another word, the blonde stands from his chair and gently takes your hand into his.

You easily stand with him, unable to stop giggling as he tugs you eagerly upstairs.

He’s determined to win, yes, but to him —

He’s already won.

He has you, after all.

.

[cerridwen007]

Candy Cane.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (afab)

Word count: 1.6 k (18+ MINORS DNI!)

Summary: Frankie can’t help but stare as you suck on that candy cane, very reminiscent of some of your other favourite things to suck on.

Notes/warnings: SMUT, fluff, Frankie being an adorable cheeky menace, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, inappropriate use of a candy cane, swearing, no y/n, probs bad spanish. ( Let me know anything else if I missed it)

A/N: Yall, it's been way too long since I last posted, and for that, I'm very sorry. Work has been exhausting me, and I've just lacked motivation to do much writing. So take this early, smutty Christmas fic as my apology. Honestly, I don't know how good it is/how well editied it is as I wrote it in less than 24 hours as the idea just came to me as I was sitting down eating a candy cane, much like reader. Wink wink. Also, this is my first Frankie fic I've posted, so yay for that. I've got a few wips in progress for this cutie, so be ready for that. Likes, comments, and reposts are always appreciated. I'll post this to my A03 soon, which is linked in my bio, if you prefer reading on that platform. Hope yall enjoy.❤️🫶

*********

Frankie couldn't help but let his jaw drop in awe of you unconsciously sucking on a candy cane very reminiscent of how you sucked his dick merely a few days ago. How you always sucked his dick so good, leaving him a pathetic whining mess. His dick was throbbing as he watched your delicate fingers hold the curved end, twisting it up and into your mouth while your mouth bobbed up and down.  An unbothered look on your face as you read your book, completely unaware of the effect you were having on your boyfriend sitting on the couch on the other side of the room from you.

Frankie can't help but groan a little,  just loud for you to hear as it escapes the back of his throat. You look over to the other side of the room, where he sits on the couch palming his hard length through his jeans; sports playing on the tv long forgotten, as he stares at you with glazed over, dark eyes. Your smile grows wide when you realise just how you had been affecting him with such a mindless innocent action. Your hand holding the candy cane drops, leaving only your teeth to uphold the fruity, striped stick. 

“You alright, sweetheart? You seem a little…distracted there.” You tease him as your eyelids droop to a flirtatious look.

He coughs a little before he answers, stumbling over his words. “Y-yeah, I'm doing real good, baby.”

You hum around the sweet confectionary, very reminiscent of a moan of pleasure, making sure to hollow your cheeks as the tart flavor hits your tongue.

“Wanna taste, baby? You're looking awfully desperate to have something sweet.” You say, holding the confectionary out to him, with your eyebrow raised.

He groans, squeezing his crotch, not managing to get out any words or approval other than an enthusiastic nod. You chuckle to yourself as you slowly get out of your seat and walk over to stand in front of Frankie. You lean down and place your hands on his knees, batting your eyelashes at him. One of your hands reaches up and twists the candy cane so the whole straight part disappears down your throat before it pulls it out again and you hold it out for Frankie to lick. He surprises you as he wraps his big hands around your back and hips and grabs you quickly to straddle his lap. 

“Frankie!” You giggle, taken off guard, leaving your smooth, sexy facade down for a second.

“Sorry, mi vida. Needed to have my sugar fix as close as possible.”

He kisses you with such fervour it takes you a moment to kiss him back, caught off guard as you both moan into the kiss.

You pull back with a smirk and hold out the candy cane again for him to suck. He grins as he takes the sweet treat into his mouth and groans, still tasting you in his mouth from the kiss and on the candy cane.

“Mmmh delicious sweetheart, but nothing will ever taste nearly as good or as sweet as you, mi amor.”

He twists his body again and throws you back onto the couch, causing you to fall into a fit of giggles.

He grins against your skin as kisses down your jaw, creating a path down your neck and collar, down between your breasts through your shirt. He shuffles down the couch, continuing to trace his lips down your body, slowly removing every bit of clothing that gets in the way of his lips tasting your skin. You can feel his hard cock throbbing against you as he slides his way down, matching the throbbing pulse of your clit. 

“Frankie…” you whine as he reaches your hips, pulling down your sweats slowly off your legs, tossing them somewhere on the floor. A devilish grin orderned on his beautiful face as he lowers his head, breathing in the scent of your arousal through your panties before biting the lacy fabric and moving them off you with his teeth. His hands are holding up your legs for better access as follows the curves of your calf. He tosses your panties to the ground and begins to plant soft kisses and bite down your raised legs all the way back down to your dripping heat.

Your face hurts from smiling as you watch Frankie show you his playful love and affection, he grins back at you and cups your face gently with one hand, to which you nuzzle into. He lowers his face back between your thighs and finally takes a firm lick up your folds, making you both moan. He has to reach down and palm himself through his uncomfortably tight jeans yet again  as he sucks your clit and licks into your oozing hole, muttering to himself about how good you taste. He reaches up to grab at your wrist and pin it into the couch before trying to grasp at what you're still holding; the candy cane. He looks up at you with dark eyes when his finger plucks it from your grasp and holds it to your mouth. 

You immediately suck it deep into your mouth before he can even ask. He growls before removing it from your red lips and dragging it down your body. He sucks it back into his mouth before running it back and forth through your folds, catching it deliciously on your clit every time, he watches in awe as your body shakes and squirms, telling of your impending orgasm as it reaches its peak.

“Come for me sweet girl.”

You become a babbling mess of incoherent swears as Frankie works you through your high. He fucks the candy cane into your cunt, following everwhere he traces it with his tongue, moaning at the sweet, delicious taste of you and the candy cane. He brings you to another high quickly after, enjoying another round of your sweet release hitting his tongue. Only stopping when you push his head away, pussy worn and oversensitive.

He kisses your inner thighs and works his way back up your body, licking up the sticky trail the candy cane left earlier, you grab both sides of his face and kiss him deeply, moaning at the taste of yourself on his tongue. You pull away after a few minutes to catch your breath and bite your lip. Pupils blown wide staring at the man that you love so deep with all of your being. You knew you just had to return the favour, especially because the thought of you sucking his cock started this whole thing in the first place. 

After littering his swollen lips and red face with soft kisses, you begin to sit up to change your position, pushing your hands firmly against Frankie's chest to push him back against the back of the couch before sliding down to your knees in front of him. His cock is aching, he whines a little as he watches you undo his belt and zipper, pulling his pants off in one go.

You palm him through his black boxers, the front covered in a pre-cum stain. You look up at his disheveled state through your eyelashes, your eyes blown wide with lust. He swallows harshly as you reach under the band of his underwear and pull out his hefty length. He watches you licking your lips from the last of the sweet residue coating them, your mouth watering from the salty flavor soon to be gracing your tongue.

You lean your head forward and let a big glob of spit drop onto the tip, quickly lubing him up with your hand and small slow strokes. Your lips envelope his furiously swollen tip, tongue twisting around the curves. His hand falls to your jaw, holding it softly, a plea to keep going, don't stop. His head falls, eyes squeezing shut before he forces himself to not miss anymore of the gorgeous sight of you before him on your knees.

Your other hand reaches out, playing with and lightly squeezing his balls. Your other hand tightens its grip around his girth, strokes growing faster. You pull your mouth off him, raising his cock up, so you can dip your head and lick up from the bottom of his length all the way back up to his head and through his slit. You mouth quickly attaches back onto him, sensing he is close by his mumbled praises, and his desperate “fuck”s that has you clenching your thighs together as the throbbing returns.

You turn your head to the side a bit so the tip of him is sticking out prominently through your reddened checks as you bob up and down on the tip. The sight combined with your sinful, moans causes Frankie to suddenly shoot his load into your mouth giving you little warning other than a loudly groaned “Fuck” as the salty cum fills your mouth. You make a show of swallowing till every drop is gone, licking your lips and then opening your mouth wide to show Frankie that you had indeed swallowed all it.

Through his post orgasim bliss, sweaty and heaving, he manages to reach down and give you a messy, sloppy kiss. The taste of both of your pleasures being exchanged between the both of you. You pull away and sigh deeply, letting some much needed air into your lungs, as you rest your head on his naked thigh, looking up at him lovingly. He caresses your check, affectionately. You both open your mouths at the same time to say that “you'll have to buy some more candy canes soon.” Making you both fall into a fit of laughs. It really was going to be a sweet holiday season.

***********

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Be Mine, Valentine - TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x F!Reader

Rating: Mature (18+, MINORS DNI)

Summary: Peter has a nightmare, Reader comforts him. Sexy times ensue.

Warning/Tags: Post- Spiderman: NWH (so spoilers for that and TASM 1 & 2), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, P in V sex

Word Count: ~2900

A/N: Valentine's Day-set TASM!Peter fic I'm finally transferring over to Tumblr. Enjoy!

Perfect, Y/F/N Y/L/N thought as she tied the ribbon on her best friend's 'Valentine by Default' gift. It was just after midnight and she was ready to settle in. Hope they turned out okay.

Suddenly there was a tap on her window. 

Y/N looked up and grinned at the familiar sight of Spiderman waving at her, then walked over to the window and opened it. "Hey, come on in."

Spiderman handed her his backpack before climbing into her apartment and pulling off his mask. "Hey, Y/N."

Y/N had found out completely by accident that the famous superhero (or criminal vigilante, depending on which narrative you believed) Spiderman was none other than her best friend, Peter Parker. They had met through their respective jobs at the Daily Bugle (Y/N as a copyeditor and Peter as a photographer) and had quickly bonded over their mutual love of coffee and hatred of staff meetings. A few months into their friendship, however, Y/N had unexpectedly walked in on Peter changing out of his Spiderman suit in the Bugle 's supply closet.

She had frozen at the sight of her friend not only alone and half-naked in the supply closet at work, but also alone and half-naked in the supply closet at work while wearing Spiderman's suit.

Peter had looked up in alarm. It's not what it looks like, he had blurted, his Spiderman suit hanging down around his waist.

It looks like you're Spiderman, Y/N had replied in shock.

Peter had paused. Ok, it's *exactly* what it looks like.

Y/N had shaken her head. I have so many questions.

Peter had then glanced behind her. Shit, someone's coming. I'll tell you everything later, Y/N, I swear, just help me.

Y/N had nodded.  Your secret is safe with me, I promise. I won't say anything.

Y/N had closed the door and managed to keep Betty from accounting, who had come to get a box of paperclips and some sticky notes, distracted long enough for Peter to finish changing. Ah, Y/N, there you are, he had said breathlessly, shooting her a grateful look as he emerged from the storage closet . I managed to find that box of red felt-tip pens that you had been looking for.

As promised, he had invited Y/N over that night and told her everything -- how he had been bitten by a radioactive spider while on a field trip in high school, how he had decided to use his powers for good and fight crime, and how his high school girlfriend had died. It was my fault, he had said brokenly. I wasn't fast enough to save her.

Y/N could tell that he still carried an extraordinary amount of guilt over -- Gwen , he had said her name was-- 's death and had understood why he never seemed to date or have many friends outside of work.

Of course, that didn't stop Y/N from developing feelings for Peter. The more they hung out together and got to know each other better the more her feelings grew, and after two and a half years of friendship she was head-over-heels in love with him.

Not that she'd ever tell him that, of course. 

Y/N closed the window behind him. "So what brings you here at this time of night?"

"I just got done with patrol and was swinging by on my way home, and I saw your light on so since it's after midnight and therefore technically the 14th I decided to stop by to give you your 'Valentine by Default' gift." Peter dug around in his backpack and pulled out a (slightly beat-up) box of chocolate-covered strawberries from Y/N's favorite confectionary. "Happy Valentine's Day, bestie."

Y/N gave Peter a hug. "Aww, thanks, Pete."

Peter grinned. "Hopefully they're not squished. I had to stop a mugging on my way here."

Y/N opened the box as she walked towards her kitchen. "They look fine to me. Want one?"

Peter shook his head. "Nah, I had gotten a few extras and ate them on the way here."

"Well, I have a little something for you too. In fact, I just finished them." 

Y/N selected a strawberry and took a bite. "Ohmigod," she mumbled. " So good."

She set the box down on her counter and picked up the heart-shaped tin of brownies that she had baked. "Anyway, happy Valentine's Day, Pete."

Peter grinned. "Are those what I think they are?"

Y/N nodded. "My famous 'Death by Chocolate Marble Cheesecake' brownies, made just for you."

Peter gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Y/N. You're the best."

Y/N's face warmed. "It's no problem. Hey, since you're here, want to stay and watch a movie?"

Peter nodded. "Sure. Can I use your shower first though? I'm all sweaty from patrol."

"Yeah, of course. You know where everything is."

Y/N finished tidying up while she waited for Peter to get out of the shower.

She was putting away the last of the dishes from her dishwasher when she heard the bathroom door open.  "Hey, Y/N?" Peter called out from behind her.

She turned towards him. "Uh-huhhhhhng…" Oh. Oh my.

Peter wore a pair of loose, low-cut gray sweatpants that Y/N secretly loved seeing on him… and nothing else.

Y/N cleared her throat. "Uh, yeah, what's up?"

Peter ran a hand through his wet hair. "I uh, I forgot to put a shirt in my backpack. You wouldn't happen to have anything that would fit me, would you?"

Y/N watched a rogue drop of water fall from Peter's hair onto his chest and run down his torso, disappearing beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Nope, nope, bad Y/N. Don't think about licking water off of your best friend's abs. 

She mentally shook her head. "What? Oh, no, I don't think I do, sorry."

"Ah, I didn't think so but it was worth a try. I can just wear my suit home later."

"Sounds good." Y/N moved to her dresser and grabbed a pair of pajamas. "You go ahead and choose the movie while I get ready."

She took a quick shower of her own and changed into a tank top and matching pajama pants before brushing her teeth.

She flipped the bathroom light off and made her way back to the living/bedroom area. "So what'd you pick--" 

She cut herself off when she saw that Peter was fast asleep, one hand clutching the remote to her TV. While it wasn't the first time Peter had fallen asleep in her bed, it sure had been the fastest. Patrol must've been harder on him than he let on.

She gently pried the remote from his grip and set it aside before settling in next to him. "Good night, Peter, " she whispered as she pulled the covers over them both and was soon asleep herself.

"No, no, not Y/N, please no, not Y/N… "

Y/N woke to Peter mumbling her name and thrashing about in his sleep.

One day about 4 months before he had come frantically knocking on Y/N's apartment door and when she had opened it he had immediately started babbling about multiverses and wizards and clones of himself.

Not clones, he had corrected when Y/N had tried to make sense of what he was talking about. Other *versions* of myself -- other Peter Parkers.

Y/N had sat and listened while Peter had explained about crossing through a portal into an alternate New York, one where he and two other Peters took on The Lizard, Electro, and 3 other villains from the other other Peter's -- Peter 2, he had called him -- world. We cured them, Peter had said excitedly. We cured them all.

Peter, sweetheart, are you sure it wasn't just a dream? Y/N had asked. You said you've been gone for over a week but I literally just saw you yesterday.

Peter had shaken his head emphatically. Time must run faster there, but I'm positive, Y/N.

I saved MJ, he added quietly. Peter 1's girlfriend. She fell, just like… He had paused and looked down at the floor then, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. But I was able to get to her in time.

Y/N had pulled him into a hug, her heart cracking. Oh, Peter.  

You do believe me, right, Y/N? Peter had asked, face buried in the crook of Y/N's neck.

Of course I believe you, Pete. Y/N had run a soothing hand through Peter's hair. Now, you said they were Peter 1 and Peter 2, which I assume made you Peter 3, right?

Peter had nodded against her neck.

Y/N had pulled back and cupped Peter's face in her hands. Just remember, you'll always be number one to me.

Peter had smiled, one of the first truly genuine smiles Y/N had seen on his face. Thanks, Y/N.

Y/N had thought he was doing better -- the dark circles under his eyes had all but disappeared and he seemed to have been sleeping better lately -- but apparently he was still having the occasional nightmare.

She sat up and gently tried to shake Peter awake. "Peter. Peter, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

Peter continued thrashing and mumbling. "Please, not Y/N, I'll do anything…"

Y/N shook Peter a bit harder. "Peter… Peter, sweetheart, wake up."

This time Peter sat bolt upright, an anguished cry of Y/N's name on his lips.

He looked around, chest heaving as he gulped in air. Finally his eyes seemed to focus on Y/N. "Y/N?"

Y/N nodded. "Yeah, I'm here."

Peter collapsed against her in relief. "Oh thank God, Y/N, you were-- and I tried-- but then you-- and I couldn't--" he managed between gulps of air. "I can't lose you, Y/N. I can't lose someone else that I--"

That I care about. "Hey, shh, I know, it's okay," Y/N whispered soothingly, stroking a hand through Peter's hair. "It was just a nightmare, Pete, I'm okay. You won't lose me." 

She took Peter's hand in hers and pulled it between them, pressing it to her beating heart, then took a few deep breaths so Peter could feel his hand rise and fall on her chest. "See? I'm right here. I'm fine, sweetheart, I'm safe, you keep me safe."

Peter's breathing slowly began to calm. After a few moments he leaned back slightly to look at Y/N, brown eyes shining in the moonlight.

Y/N's breath caught as the air shifted between them.

Peter lifted his free hand to Y/N's cheek as his gaze flicked down to her lips then back to her eyes in silent question.

Y/N nodded in answer, breathing out a quiet 'yes ' right before Peter's lips met hers.

After a few moments Peter shifted them so Y/N was straddling his lap, tongue probing her bottom lip.

Y/N willingly opened up to Peter, letting out a soft moan when he deepened the kiss.

She gently scratched the back of Peter's head as she trailed her hands up into his hair while Peter kissed his way down her jawline to her neck.

His hands made their way along her waist and under her tank top. "Is this okay?"

Y/N nodded, grinding down in Peter's lap and hissing in a breath as her clothed core brushed against his burdening erection. "More than okay."

Peter groaned then swore softly. "I don't-- I don't want to be presumptuous here, but just to let you know... I don't have any condoms. It's not like I need them to fight crime and I haven't exactly been getting any lately, you know?"

Y/N shook her head. "I'm fine without them if you are."

Peter looked at her in surprise. "You sure?"

Y/N nodded. "I'm on birth control."

She brushed their lips together. "I want you, Peter."

"Shit, Y/N. " Peter sealed their mouths together once again.  

His hands continued their journey upwards, sliding Y/N's tank top up and over her head and discarding it somewhere on the floor before trailing gentle fingers along Y/N's shoulders.  "You're so beautiful," he whispered, unbridled desire evident in his eyes.

Y/N shivered. " Peter ."

Peter turned them to guide Y/N down onto the bed. 

He took his time kissing and caressing his way down her body, whispering words of adoration and praise with each newly-touched patch of skin.

He paused once again as he reached the waistband of her pajama pants. "Still want this?"

Y/N 's heart warmed at Peter's concern. She lifted her hips in permission. "Uh huh. Want you inside me."

Peter groaned against her skin. "God, Y/N, I want that too, I want that so badly. Want to make you feel good, l want to feel you wrapped around me as I make love to you."

He slowly pulled Y/N's pajamas pants and underwear off of her before shuffling out of his sweatpants, the additional clothing joining Y/N's tank top somewhere on the floor.

Y/N licked her lips at the sight of Peter fully bare before her. Holy fuck, he's even hotter than I thought.

Peter smirked. "Like what you see?"

Y/N grinned back. "Very much so."

She bit back a moan as Peter circled a nipple with his tongue before giving it a gentle suck. "Need you now, Peter, please."

Peter kissed her as he lined himself up with her core, coating himself in her wetness before slowly pushing inside.

Y/N tried to relax and breathe against the intrusion. It had been well over two years since she had slept with anyone, and while Peter had a swimmer's build he wasn't exactly lanky everywhere.

Peter's eyes caught hers. "You okay?"

Y/N nodded. "Yeah, I just haven't been with anyone since--" Since before I met you. "Well, it's been a few years."

Peter nodded in understanding. "Yeah. For me too."

Y/N reached out and caressed Peter's cheek. "You can keep going."

Peter turned his face and kissed Y/N's palm as he withdrew a bit then carefully pushed back in a little deeper, slowly repeating the process until he was fully seated inside her. "God, Y/N, you feel so good."

Y/N's eyes fluttered shut, the discomfort beginning to subside into a pleasurable fullness. "So do you, Peter. So good, make me feel so full."

Peter withdrew and slid back in, setting a slow rhythm. "Wanted you for so long, Y/N, dreamed about being with you like this. Never wanted anyone the way I want you."

He leaned his forehead against Y/N's as he changed angles, hitting that spot inside Y/N that made her see stars. 

"Me too," Y/N replied with a gasp, her grip tightening around Peter's back. "Oh, God, Peter, right there."

Peter slightly increased his pace, his strokes becoming firmer and surer. "Yeah?"

"Yes, oh God, don't stop, Peter, please. You feel so good." 

Peter hissed in a breath. " Fuck , so do you. So tight, so good, better than I ever imagined. You're so beautiful, Y/N, you're amazing, can't believe I get to be with you like this, God, you're perfect…" 

He slid a hand down to Y/N's thigh and hitched her leg up around his waist, allowing him to reach spots inside her that no one had reached before. "Never want to lose you, want you to be mine."

"You won't lose me, Peter, I'm right here sweetheart, I'm yours--" Y/N bit off a gasp as her orgasm rocked through her.

A few thrusts later Peter followed her over the edge, groaning out her name against her lips as he found his own release deep inside her. 

They continued to kiss languidly as they came down from their highs together, Y/N tracing gentle patterns up and down Peter's back.

She shivered as Peter gave her one final kiss before carefully withdrawing from her still-sensitive core and laying down next to her, pulling her to him in a cuddle.

Peter pressed his lips to her forehead. "I love you," he confessed softly.

Y/N looked up at him in surprise, unable to hide the smile spreading on her face. "What? Really?"

Peter nodded with a smile of his own. "Yeah, really."

Y/N leaned up and kissed him. "Well good, because I love you too."

"Yeah?"

Y/N giggled. "Yes, you dork."

Peter grinned. "So what do you say, then? Be my Valentine? Officially, that is."

Y/N pretended to think. "Ehh, I dunno…"

She laughed as Peter poked her side in retaliation. "Of course I'll be yours, Pete. I already was."

Peter pulled her back to his side, planting another kiss to the side of her head. "I've been yours too. For a while now."

They laid together quietly after that, basking in the feel of each other's arms.

Y/N could feel herself start to doze off. "Hey, Y/N?" she heard Peter say.

She yawned. "Yeah, Pete?"

"Thank you. For everything."

"Mmm. Happy Valentine's Day."

"Happy Valentine's Day."

As Y/N drifted off, she thought, Happy Valentine's Day indeed.

[simpscripts]

A Spoonful of Love (Bernard the elf x Reader) Part 1

Authors notes/tags: Part 2 of the Naughty or Nice series for service subs with praise kinks. Smut starting on part 2, 18+, Nsfw, afab reader, she/her pronouns used. I hope you all enjoy!

Summary: Your crush and superior elf has been pulling away for months, fueling your need to please and serve him to hear him praise you again.

The click of your nails against the the large work counter echoed out in the empty kitchen. The usually packed and bustling kitchen now remained nearly empty with just a single occupant after the busyness of the holiday season finally wrapped up for the year. Over the new years holiday, Santa give a vacation period to everyone to celebrate all the hard work of the year before everyone picks right back up to create it all again, but you never took the vacation time.

You had no other place that felt quite like home as the kitchen did and this free space without work tasks or distraction from other elves gave you free reign to try making new confectionary creations. As the head elf of the kitchen you reveled in the honor of being in charge of looking for ways to elevate the treats and teach the rest of the staff of baker elves how to recreate them. This vacation was the perfect time to workshop, try out new ideas, play around with ingredients, and take notes on how each experiment resulted. You got a chance to try new things out during normal working time in between specific tasks but this is the month that will set the ground for the rest of the year. More importantly every time you created something up to your standards you get to share it with your favorite head elf for his final approval. Bernard has held a large grip on your heart for centuries and you leaped for every chance to show off your creations to him to have a chance of basking under his praise.

Your eyes peeled away from glaring daggers at the little timer as you waited for it to ring out, instead shifting to peer around the room to check if anyone was crazy enough as you to come into work during the vacation period. As your eyes scanned around your surroundings they pass over the grand kitchen doors peeled open to look out over the workshop area. Your breath hitches in excitement as you catch a flash of red clothes and dark curls whizz around in the background of workbenches. A laugh bubbles lightly out of your throat as you noticed he has dragged poor Curtis into work with him as well.

Your eyes follow their path around the workroom, watching them stop shortly every so often to adjust the equipment on work stations, jot little notes in his small work journal, or clearing bits of scrap parts into bins. Your head sinks down to rest against your palm as your body slumps in your high chair against the counter, mind slipping away to dream. This sighting of him in the same room for so long is a bit of a rare sighting as of late, you have only really seen him in a room for a minute or so this past few months and you can’t blame him due to the nature of the season.

Your teeth move to chew at the corners of your lips as your thoughts turned more anxious, searching every memory for clues to throw on the fire of your fear. It wasn’t just the past month and normal holiday season, it started a few months before Christmas even came around. Your thoughts can’t stop bubbling at the thought that maybe its you. You have never seen him in a room as of late longer than a few minutes, you swear you remember or at the very least that your mind provides vivid memories of him making eye contact with you in the room and making his way out shortly after.

Your fingers fidget together as you get lost in your mind. The only thing saving you from your descent down was the slight bit of vocal echos that bounce their way up to the kitchen and to your pointed ears. Your body shifts on its own raising forward at an angle towards the door as if that will help you hear any better. You can’t make out the words but you hear Curtis’s tone playfully mocking Bernard. Your eyes follow them as they make their way to the benches located just under the balcony nearest to the kitchen.

You glance quickly at the timer, it’s a bit older and gets stuck on the track right before going off some of the time. You’ve been meaning to replace it but honestly it got pushed back in favor of you trying to seek out Bernard whenever you could to offer your help and service during those blissfully boring moments of waiting for things to finish baking. Your curiosity quickly outweighs your concern and your body moves on its own to tip toe out of the kitchen to hear better, your mind giving you a quick pat on the back for not wearing any bells on your clothes today.

Once out you manage to sneak along the wall to sit back into an alcove that would hopefully protect you from being seen if they move back out to the center of the room. Now you can hear a bit more but just broken words in between mumbles so you make yourself comfortable and wait. Your fingers twirl around the hem of your skirt, a bit of guilt gurgles in you from sneaking but you miss the sound of his voice. Even hearing the echoes of his tone calms your heart and eases your anxiety. You catch some laughs coming from Curtis as he seems to tease Bernard again and your ears prick up as you hear them getting louder. Then you hear Curtis making loud chicken noises.

“Would you stop being a big fat chicken?” Curtis chortles before continuing his bawks.

“Knock it off Curtis!” This is the first time you can clearly make out Bernards words as he yells out exasperatedly and you itch closer to the balcony’s edge to hear better. “I don’t get scared, I just want everything to be perfect, as I expect with everything else around here. Now get back to work.”

Their voices hush back down to murmurs as they change the subject. Your stomach churns at the word perfect, something you strived for constantly especially with helping him knowing how much he values good work. You can’t figure out the exact context for their conversation but knowing he is looking for perfection makes you slightly giddy, hoping he will be pleased with your new baking creation you’ve created just for him. You hover to make sure you can’t hear anymore of their conversation before pulling away to go check on the oven. As your body tip toes back into the kitchen to not alert your foot steps to the elves just below you it all quickly gets abandoned as you smell the harsh scent of smoke pouring from the oven.

“No, no, no, no, no, no!” You scream out unconsciously as you ran over.

You’re ungraceful as you snatch the safety fire extinguisher from the wall and slam open the heavy oven door to spray down the flames with white fluff before they can burst out towards you. As the white foam pops from the remaining heat it sinks and pools enough that you can clearly see that the lava cakes you were making overcooked, the cake sponge hardened until cracking open, letting the sticky liquid filling bubble out and over the tray side to burn on the bottom of the oven. Your heart races as you turn to glare at the timer, seeing it’s once again stuck on the second to last tick unable to notify you before you ended up burning the whole place down. In the background you make out two bodies rapidly moving up the staircase towards you and you panic.

You hopelessly and awkwardly try positioning your body to cover the sight of the oven from their eyes. Bernard skips into the room first with his long strides he takes when he is serious, Curtis rushing behind him with little steps that desperately try to keep up. Your heart beat quickens as you watch Bernard come closer to your side, his eyes trained on the oven as he deduces for himself what occurred, while his hand absentmindedly reaches out to graze past your arm to keep you back.

“What happened, are you alright?” He shifts to face you and dips his head down to look you in the eyes. You’re a bit too star struck watching his eyes, and seeing from your peripheral that his hands hover above your arms but not quite touching the skin.

“Mmhm just a small accident.” You cough as you hear how hard the words felt to choke out and turn away from his gaze to motion towards the timer. “Timer is broken I just forgot to replace it and I got a bit distracted. I’m sorry, I’ll clean this up.”

“No need to apologize, just an accident.” He shakes his head smiles at you warmly, letting his hands now rest against your wrists. “I’ll take care of the timer for you, I’ll go get it fixed up after I finish the rest of my tasks for the day.”

“Hey! When I make a mistake I have to do reindeer walking duty for a month, and she almost burned this whole place down.” Curtis muffles out in between small bites of truffles he snuck from the dessert tray on the counter.

“Curtis you don’t even do the jobs you’re supposed to, let alone pick up a bunch of tasks to help me out like Y/N does. She follows orders perfectly.” Bernard clicks out while letting his hands fall from your skin so he can turn to inspect the damage while you stand back shifting in delight from the praise.

“That’s not true and you know it! In the past six months alone I have swept up all the tinsel in the workshop, I shoveled the steps, I cleaned the entire stables top to bottom, gave Dasher the bath he desperately needed, and even drug up half of the stupid library books up to your office!” Curtis continues through mouthfuls of chocolate.

You try to make out their interaction as Bernard snaps his head back briefly to glare at Curtis, quickly shutting him up. He goes back to looking over the oven, bending down to make sure the flames didn’t do any damage. You squirm a bit in your spot as he scrutinized your mistake but snapped back to the present as he spoke to you again.

“I didn’t know you were back in here today Y/N.” He hums while leaning his head around to check different angles.

“Oh yea, you know me. I like having the kitchen to myself and I don’t feel content unless I am getting stuff done.” You see his hand reach for the cleaning rag you keep tied to the door handle, presumably to start wiping it up and you wave your hands hurriedly. “Don’t worry about cleaning, I’ll take care of it while the new batch bakes in another oven.”

This seems to satisfy him as he stands up and glances to Curtis with a smile. “See Curtis, that is why she is my favorite.”

Curtis just rolls his eyes in response while Bernard moves to grab the timer to examine it next. You’re a bit amused at how gentle he is with it seeing as every muscle in your body just wants to smash the timer to bits with how much trouble it has caused you.

“This should be an easy fix.” Bernard slides the timer over to Curtis to hold in his hand not occupied by sweets and turns to you. “Well I’ll still be here for a bit doing chores but then I will work on it once I get back to my office. If you’re still here later you can drop by to pick it up.”

“Of course, and I’ll also bring by the new treat I came up with as long as it doesn’t burn again. I think you’ll like it, I had you in mind when I came up with it.” You’re eyes freeze for a moment as you realized you just babbled and hoped he didn’t understand the deeper need behind your words.

Flicking your gaze up you see a smile close to the one you see on his face when he praises you for a good job but it looks to be mixed with another emotion, maybe smugness. It’s too hard to tell and you fail to get a good look in the second before he looks away to gesture Curtis back towards the workroom.

“Sounds great, I am looking forward to seeing what your brilliant mind comes up with next. Now it looks like the oven is ok, but are you sure you’ll be alright to clean it up by yourself?” He gestures over to the pile of goo in the oven.

“Absolutely, not a problem at all! I don’t want to add anything else to your busy plate and besides I will have plenty of time while I remake this batch. I’ll bring it to you right out of the oven tonight when you’re not busy anymore so you can have it when it’s warm and perfect.”

“That’s why you’re the best, I know I can always rely on you.”

You happily take in all the details of the moment, committing everything to memory to store away with every other accomplishment you have made for him. As your eyes travel away from his eyes you catch a few flecks of something light hiding in his curls. Now you can see more clearly there is a bunch of different wood shavings clinging on to his hair that you try pointing him towards the biggest piece you can see.

“Oh Bernard, I think you have something in your hair.” His eyes scrunch in confusion as he threads his fingers through some strands and pulls out the bits of wood. “Just a bit more, here let me help.”

You move to thread your fingers through his hair to pull them out but he awkwardly laughs and pulls back. “That’s alright, probably just a bit of wood chips from the workshop.” He starts backing away more to leave and lets out a small oof as he backs straight into the edge of the counter.

“Ooh, are you ok?” You wince watching him grab his side, and your chest stings as you watch him pull away.

“Yep I’m good, I’ll see you later.” He pushes out before biting on his lip and turning.

You offer him a small smile with flushing cheeks as you watch him start backing out of the room with a wave that you return to him. He meets Curtis at the door and you watch them curiously when you see the younger elf elbows his senior before getting snatched by the back of his collar and pulled down the stairs. The breath you held exhaled once you lost vision of them, and you dumbly looked at the mess while organizing your thoughts and emotions. The strong bitter sting of failure crawls through you sickly first, mixed with the happiness and confusion of having him near you longer than the last few months combined.

Once your perfectionist feelings of failure leak out slowly your left with longing that consumes you. It wasn’t until you had another taste of the close friendship you once had that your heart starts to deeply ache to have again. Your lungs draw in a big breath to stabilize the tide before you moved forward to clean up. It may be a silly thought but you drive yourself forward with the hope that you can complete this next batch and worm your way back into his life.

Time passes while you clean silently, consumed by your thoughts, and the light shifts to an orange glow as the sunset starts to beam in through the windows. By the time you make it to starting the new batch the loss and ache now gives way to frustration, a need to fix this. You’re a bit aggressive when throwing in the new ingredients, despite you trying to growl out in your head of all the love your going to pour into these lava cakes. You have to whip your head to the side to avoid being suffocated by the plume of flour that puffs out of the bowl when you throw it in and your clothes are quickly becoming collateral damage to the spray of ingredients as you viciously mix.

You freeze your hand from stirring when you hear light foot falls head in your direction. Your chest rises with hope that Bernard is checking in on you but instead you see a tired looking Curtis turn around the corner. You try to mask your disappointment with a roll of your eyes.

“Coming to rob me some more of the treats I worked hard to bake?” You flick your eyes to him before going back to your rough mixing.

“I deserve these, I was being bossed around all day. You try dealing with him and see how you like it.” He huffs out while grabbing a seat across from you at the counter and happily biting into the truffles with an exaggerated moan. “What the heck do you put into these things that make them taste so good”

“Just a spoonful of love.” You growl out your signature line as you finish up your beating of the mixture.

“Seems like a violent love.” He mutters back under his breath.

“Alright, alright! Take your truffles and get out my kitchen so I can concentrate.” You shoo him off, even giving him the tray to take with him when he hesitates to leave.

You were friends with Curtis and enjoy his company but it’s hard not being a bit jealous of him getting to spend all day with Bernard when he so openly complains about something you would so happily trade him for. The ache and bitterness consumed you as your mind snowballed harder into your pain. You haven’t even stepped a single foot inside his office for months, the once upon a time open door invitation was now firmly locked every time you have tried to visit. You used to have a small ritual of making a tray of food for him, knowing he forgot to eat with how busy he was, and brought it to his office to set on his desk for him and offering your assistance if he was there. After it started being locked you tried leaving a few trays outside his door but with no guarantee he was even in there you had to stop to not waste food.

It’s just now starting to sink in truly just how high of stakes this cooking assignment was for you. You wanted nothing more than to prove yourself to him, make yourself useful, and earn his praise. For too long you have been robbed of that opportunity that your mind was going crazy without purpose but he had to sign off on new recipes you implemented. This was a chance to get answers on why he has been avoiding you and hopefully earn his praise you’ve sorely missed.

Once the new tray goes in you glance down at the state of your clothes, splattered with flour and wet chocolate dots that didn’t easily wipe away. Just as you were about to walk away to quickly change or at the least clean up in the bathroom you remembered your lack of timer. Instead you let out a sigh of defeat, letting go of the notion that you would be able to sneak away to clean up so you can watch the lava cakes instead. You’re cursing yourself in your head for not picking something less finicky that could be babysat less so you could clean up. You also stupidly promised Bernard fresh out of the oven lava cakes and with the chill of the North Pole you would be surprised how quickly it could cool down just on the way to his office. Not everything could be perfect though as you have bitterly come to realize throughout your centuries and so you would have to just deal with a disheveled appearance.

The sun fully set over the snowy hills in the distance of the village by the time the tray was ready to take out. You were growing more anxious the darker it got that he would have already left for the night that you had to stop yourself several times from removing the tray too early. As quick as you could without dropping or making a mess you plated up the small lava cake, sprinkled some powder sugar, and cleaned the rim of the plate to finish it off. With a small pat along your clothes to brush off any flour you could you picked up the plate and headed off to his office.

Your fingers gripped the plate to make sure you didn’t accidentally drop it now that you’re so close to delivering it. Once at his door you take in a shaking breath, just being outside filling you with unfamiliar nerves for a place you felt so at home in. With a trembling hand you reach up to knock on the door and wait with baited breath to hear if anyone would answer. You calm slightly as you make out some sweeping sounds and a clatter of things being shuffled quickly once your knock rang out before footsteps hurried their way over.

The door quickly swishes open, wafting a curl of the warm air from inside and you couldn’t keep yourself from inhaling the familiar cinnamon wood scent that surrounds him. Your eyes flick over to see the room behind Bernard that you haven’t laid eyes on in forever taking in the disheveled state of the room. You look back at him and go breathless as you take in his own disheveled form in informal clothing.

“Hi sorry, I know it’s late but I finally finished it.” You stutter out once you shake through the nerves.

“I’m glad you’re here,” He steps to the side to let you in. “Come on in, don’t mind the mess, I haven’t had much time to clean up.”

As your feet pad across the floor you can feel the soft grain of sawdust add traction to your steps. Peering around curiously you see a thin layer of dust on most of the surfaces of the room, along with clumps of thicker wood shavings scattered around the edges of the furniture. You’ll have to remember for later to sweep up in here for him if you get the chance. You try following back into your normal routine of sitting down in the plush chair in front of his desk, pushing through the awkwardness that suffocates you as you fixate on positioning the plate on his spot just right while he comes around to sit across from you.

“Alright moment of truth.” You spin the spoon around for him to grab onto. “Bernard I present to you the creamy hot cocoa lava cake complete with little marshmallows inside, I hope you like it.”

He gives you an excited glance before happily digging in to the cake. You watch with anticipation as he breaks through the cake layer and exhale in relief when you see a nice slow flow of creamy chocolate dotted with tiny marshmallows starts oozing out. He hums in appreciation at the visual and lifts his spoon for his first bite and you can’t help but feel yourself dipped into the familiarity of the scene. With the first moan of appreciation your face lights up and your skin prickles with bumps at the sudden warmth spreading through you in pride.

“Absolutely perfect.” He hums out before going back for bigger spoonfuls. “I don’t know how you manage to blow me away every time.”

Your heart is banging to beat of your chest with pride and you’re overtaken with just how much you missed the sharp burning of your cheeks that threatened to sting your eyes.

“It’s nothing more than a spoonful of love, you know that.” You happily chirp out your signature phrase he’s heard time and time again.

You watch him closely as he stares down at the lava cake with a soft smile that twitches when you spoke those familiar words. With only a few bites left he finishes it off and takes the small napkin you provided to wipe any remaining chocolate that lined his lips.

“This might be my favorite one yet, I can’t wait to see what the big man thinks about it when he gets back from vacation.”

“Yea if he decides to come back to this mad house.” You joke softly, trying to ignore the crawl of awkwardness creeping back in when you realize you don’t know how to move forward now. “Sorry again about earlier it was a silly mistake.”

“It’s alright just a small accident and this more than makes up for it.” He says softly with a wave of his hand before leaning down to grab something. “And I have small something in return for you to thank you.”

“Oh, right, the timer I completely forgot.” Your jaw clenched slightly as you feared this meant the end to your night with him.

“Oh,” He raises slowly and looks lost in thought like he forgot something. “No.”

“No?”

“I mean yes but no, um.” He reaches back into a drawer and slowly pulls out the timer to place in front of you. “I actually got you another gift, it was actually supposed to be done by Christmas but I had to restart, a few times actually.”

You watch him closely as he fidgets with the object located in his lap slightly before raising it up so you can see the medium rectangle package neatly wrapped in beautiful paper. “Anyways, I wanted to get you this to show you how much I appreciate everything you do around here, and not just for the job but for me also personally.”

He laughs a bit nervously and starts handing over the gift gently to your hands. “I can rely on you more than anyone, and this is a little something to show you how much I care.”

You play with the ribbons tied around the box slightly as you see him move to sit in the chair beside your own, and angle it towards you as he watches for your reaction now. You untie the ribbon and start lightly pulling at the paper to tear it off the box, jumping slightly when you feel his hand brush past your own as he goes to take the ball of paper from you once you slide the box out. The air feels heavy as you grasp the box and go to remove the lid while feeling the stare of his eyes focused on your face.

The first item in the box was a small envelope with Bernard very own wax seal stamp in beautiful red wax and detailed with gold gilding along the raised edges of the intricate B. You wanted this moment to drag on forever as you took in every detail he put into this present with just the card. Before you could start to swipe your nail under the crease to open it he reached over and grabbed the card out of your hand.

“You should save this for last.” He whispered out, gaze still trained carefully on you and you fully take in his tense pose leaned forward with elbows resting on his knees to wring his hands together.

“Then it shouldn’t have been on top.” You roll your eyes but follow his direction and continue unwrapping the present.

You moved the layer of tissue paper that the card laid on top of and froze once you unsealed the object underneath. Cradled in a blanket of velvet was an intricate carved wooden spoon. The spoon itself was a heart shape, above that was a hilt of mistletoe that curled up on the left and right to mirror itself. The very top of the spoon was a big bow with tendrils that twirled down on both sides to meet down at the hilt and cradled between the tendrils as the true handle of the spoon was a large Christmas tree.

As softly as you could with shaking hands you pick it up with your finger tips cradling the back as you run your thumbs over the smooth grooves and indentations of details carved into its design. Looking closer at the Christmas tree you see little bobbles of ornaments carved in the shape of hearts. Your heart clenches as you take it all in and you flex your fingers to get a better grip on the precious gift alerting you to the line like grooves you can feel on the back. Flipping it over the stinging tears building up along your eyeline flows over your cheeks as you read the beautiful cursive words sprawled across the back of the tree ‘a spoonful of love’.

Your eyes burn as you squint to blink away the tears and look over to him confused but filled with hopeless adoration. He doesn’t give your look an answer, instead he tensely moves to hand the letter back over to you once you gently place the spoon back into the box. Your less gentle now that you’re seeking answers as you break open the seal and pull out the handwritten card.

Lovespoon: A Welsh lovespoon is a wooden spoon decoratively carved that was traditionally presented as a gift of romantic intent.

I figured you needed a spoon as beautiful as you to add all the love you include in your baking.

-With all my love, Bernard

Your fingers clenched the card tightly as you read and reread the words over and over. When you finally managed to tear your eyes away you looked over at Bernard with blurry vision. Every word in the history of language was lost on you as you stared back at his gaze and your mouth gaped open in longing to say something in response. You watched as all the energy inside building inside him pushed out through shaking clenched hands as the rest of his body sat tense and he spoke out to break the silence.

“I wanted to find the perfect gift and had Curtis bring me every volume of the history of gifts around the world from the archive library. There was about 53 volumes in total, I um, got to this one but still read through the them all. This was the only one I thought fit you perfectly.” His voice babbled out more nervously than you have ever heard him before in a deep voice laced with a gruff edge.

Your gaze tore away from the heat of his as you once again locked eyes with some wood shavings across his desk. All the pieces of the puzzle locked in as a happy sob bubbled out of your throat.

“I thought you were ignoring me.” Your eyes dart back and forth as the anxiety fled completely from your body.

“No, Yes, I was but not for that reason.” His hand hesitantly reaches out to lace with your own and you tighten your hold on him once he makes contact. “Curtis was always with me and I didn’t want his loud mouth spoiling the surprise.”

He cautiously watches you for another moment and nervously whispers out, “Do you like it?”

You suck your bottom lip in a happy pout as more tears bubble out and you nod, leaning your body over to be closer to his.

“I will make you as many pastries and treats that you could ever want.” Your mind is already flooding with all the ways you want to show your devotion and affection to him, most likely starting with cleaning his office for him.

“No, no.” He shifts to cradle your cheek to move your gaze back to his adoring eyes as the air in the room shifts and warms you. “I think it’s well pass the time for you to be rewarded for all the hard work you do.”

[rewrittenwrongs]

Finally realised I haven’t actually posted this here… @thebibliosphere @justanotherhomelessromantic @theelitistpirate your post is a masterpiece and awakened the muses. I wrote this in one sitting and didn’t beta read so if you see any typos no you didn’t

Read on Ao3 here

Gotham is a cesspit of chaos. It’s full to the brim with criminals, covered in rapists and murderers, almost controlled by mobs and mafia, practically ran by the drug trade, and home to more masks than any other place in the world. In this case, the term ‘Mask’ includes one founding member of the Justice League, almost a dozen of his children, and more than a dozen villains.

Among these lawless people is one Amaury Guichon: the Chocolate Guy.

(It is notable that ‘chocolate guy’ is not the name he intended to go by, but that’s what people started calling him, and the name simply stuck.)

Contrary to what his name might suggest, he is not a cheerful chef that goes around handing treats to young children. He is a chef, and he can be cheerful, and he does occasionally give chocolate bars to people, but his intentions are far more sinister than spreading cheer and cavities.

Case in point: he is currently in an abandoned confectionary factory, preparing a vat of melted chocolate while his group of kidnapped socialites watch helplessly.

“What is this?” one of the socialites demands, struggling against the ropes tying her to a chair. She’s an older woman, with gray hair and a shimmering dress, and doesn’t actually seem all that scared. Years of living in Gotham as a member of the upper class must make her accustomed to being kidnapped.

“Ah, mon petit chou pourri, isn't it obvious?” Chocolate Guy lifts the comically large spatula he is using to stir the chocolate, letting the sickeningly sweet liquid drip down in ribbons. “It’s death by chocolate!”

“How, exactly, do you plan to kill us with chocolate?” another kidnappee, Bruce Wayne, asks dryly. He seemed utterly unconcerned, unimpressed even, by his imminent death. “Do you plan do drown us in it? That would be rather messy, and take a while. Heat it up and burn us? No, the chocolate would burn, and that wouldn’t kill us—“

“The circumstance of your death is no matter to you!” Chocolate Guy shrieked. “Je vais te tuer! Peu importe comment!”

“Is that why you haven’t mentioned the bombs yet?” Sam Reich asked, appearing out of nowhere with a gleeful grin.

Chocolate Guy reared back. “Where did you come from!?”

“You fight Batman and you’re asking me?” Sam chuckles. “I’ve been here the whole time. And I have a more important question: HOW DID YOU MAKE BOMBS OUT OF CHOCOLATE!?”

Chocolate Guy raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “They’re bombe au chocolats, what else would they be made out of?”

“But how?”

“Honestly, no wonder half of Gotham thinks you’re a Meta,” Bruce Wayne piped up. “With the things you can do with chocolate, you could work at any confectionary you want, any restaurant, you’d win awards—“

“Shut your mouth!” The Chocolate Guy lunges forward and smears a mess of chocolate against Bruce’s mouth. It cools down quickly, hardening against his chin and trapping his lips shut. The look Bruce sends him is impressively annoyed. “I don’t want to win awards, I want to wreak havoc!” Chocolate Guy snarled. “People must appreciate the true destructive potential of chocolate!”

“Hence the bombs,” Sam added, nodding.

A slow clap sounded from the ceiling.

All heads turn to the rafters, where Nightwing crouched, slowly clapping his gloved hands together. “I gotta say, Amaury, this scheme of yours is pretty impressive. Lure us over here with your kidnapping, distract us from your henchmen so they can plant the bombs unnoticed.“

He drops down from the ceiling, landing in a crouch. He removes his escrima sticks and activates the electricity. “Honestly, you might’ve gotten away with it.”

Some upperclassman cries out in surprise as Spoiler, having appeared out of nowhere, neatly cuts his ropes. The group of rich people had been arranged in a circle tied by the same length of rope, so the rest of their restraints slackened as well.

Spoiler held up the cut portion of rope. For some reason, she sniffs it. “Is this made of sugar?”

“Dragons beard candy!” Chocolate Guy cried, brandishing his reinforced chocolate nunchucks. “Some of my finest work!”

The following battle is one that would be told by bards across the world for the rest of time, if bards still existed. Nightwing is impressively skilled with his escrima sticks, not to mention very strong and incredibly flexible, but Amaury Guichon is a force to be reckoned with using those nunchucks, and it isn’t long before he captures one of the escrima and sends it flying. Nightwing uses the tiny opening the motion made and swipes at Amaury, but he dances to the side and slams one end of the nunchucks into his back, forcing Nightwing to use his momentum to roll.

Spoiler leads the formerly kidnapped socialites to safety while Nightwing is occupied, keeping a wary eye on Sam Reich, who is watching the battle with a concerning amount of glee.

It thankfully isn’t long before Nightwing gets the upper hand, forcing Chocolate Guy back until he trips over an abandoned conveyor belt. The vigilante makes swift work of him after that, tying him up with his own candy ropes—and zip ties, to be safe—and leaving him for the police to detain. He also leaves them the vat of chocolate. No way is he dealing with that.

He heads outside after collecting his escrima, but finds only upper class civilians. He taps his comm, “Spoiler?”

“Spoiler’s signal is jammed,” Oracle tells him. “So is Robin’s and Red Robin’s. They been off the map for two minutes, Spoiler for one.”

Nightwing frowned and began a closer examination of the surroundings. “You can’t track them?”

“I think an EMP went off, none of their tech is online.”

“That’d do it,” he muttered. “Who’s disabling the bombs? Have we found all of them?

“Signal’s taking care of one in East End, Red Hood has one in Crime Alley, Orphan has the one by the Wayne Enterprise building, and Batwoman is en route to the Wilson Memorial Bridge. There’s still two, one of them’s by the cell tower in the Bowery.”

Nightwing worked on his sweep of the factory, ignoring Chocolate Guy screaming French in the background. “B won’t be able to reach a suit for a few minutes. Call Bluebird?”

“Already on it,” Oracle replies. “She’ll be suiting up any second now. She’s closer to the cell tower, you look around for the last bomb and keep an ear out for our missing birds.”

Nightwing nodded redundantly and swung off into the night.

He searched East End first, since it was closest, but found no trace of chocolate bombs nor of wayward birds. He swung through Crime Alley with no luck, stopping to help Red Hood disable his bomb. They searched the Narrows and the Bowery together, during which Signal, Bluebird and Orphan finished with their bombs, and were heading towards Bristol when a figure landed beside them.

Red Robin waved. “Hey guys!”

Red Hood startled. “What the fu—“

“Where have you been!?” Nightwing demanded.

“With Sam Reich,” Red Robin said like it was obvious. “He kidnapped me, Robin and Spoiler to play a weird game of Simon Says.”

“What?” Red Hood hissed.

Nightwing landed on a roof and waited until the others landed beside him. “Did he hurt any of you?”

“No. Robin did get some friction burns from struggling against the ropes, but we’re all fine.”

“I hate Reich,” Red Hood muttered. “He’s weird.”

Red Robin shrugged. “Eh, Sam’s okay. Ra’s think he might take over the League of Assassins if he gets bored enough.”

Nightwing stared at his brother. “Okay, ignoring the fact that you’re apparently on a first name basis with one of our rogues—“

“Two, me and Eddie play fifth dimensional chess on Tuesdays—“

“Ignoring that, for now, we will be addressing that later—why does Ra’s think he could take over the League and why do you know he thinks that?”

“Ra’s keeps sending me passive aggressive letters about how the League’s doing. Well, that’s what he’s been doing recently, before that he was putting belladonna in my food for steali—“

“Where the fuck have you been?” Oracle demanded over comms. Red Robin winced.

“With Sam. He told us that the last bomb is by the docks.”

Nightwing opened his mouth, then closed it again. “We are bringing this back up later,” he eventually hissed, before turning and jumping off the roof.

“Why’s Ra’s trying to kill you?” Red Hood asked.

Red Robin watched Nightwing grapple away. “He isn’t, he needs me alive to have my children.”

“What?”

Red Robin copied his brother and jumped off the roof, grapple gun poised.

The three vigilantes reconvened at the docks, where they met Spoiler, Robin and the Riddler. The villain of the group was hunched over a complex chocolate structure, with Spoiler leaning over his shoulder and yelling about bombs and chocolate and defying physics, and Robin was several metres away with his katana at the ready. There was a somehow functional chocolate timer next to the bomb, which said they only had thirty seconds before the bomb went off.

Batwoman had disarmed her bomb during the ride over, so this was the last one they had to disable.

“Eddie? What are you doing here?”

That’s right, for some reason Red Robin was friends with the Riddler. Of course.

“Disabling the bomb,” Riddler replied, haggard.

“Do you even know how to do that?” Nightwing snapped.

“Just throw it in the bay,” Red Hood said.

“Oh yes, because a huge splash of hot steam is so much better.”

“Chocolate doesn’t float, it’ll sink to the bottom.”

“That’ll kill everything near it and—“

“You think things can live in Gotham water?”

“—it might explode the caves, you and I both know there are aquatic cave systems here.”

Red Robin, having previously disappeared during the conversation, reappeared when there was ten seconds left, holding a half empty bottle of vodka. He shoved back Riddler and began dumping the alcohol over the chocolate monstrosity. The others took many large steps back when he pulled out a box of matches.

He set alight the match and dropped it on the alcohol soaked, half deconstructed chocolate abomination, which immediately caught fire.

They all watched as the chocolate melted.

“Smart,” Spoiler observed.

“There’s really no hardwire in there?” Nightwing asked, wary and confused. “It’s just chocolate. How.”

“Does it really matter?” Red Robin asked, taking another step back. “They’ve all been dealt with.”

“What about Reich?” Robin demanded. “He’s who-knows-where and has proven skilled enough to capture vigilantes. We can’t leave him alone.”

“Oh, that?” Riddler said dismissively. “Don’t worry, I know a guy.”

Somewhere else in the world, Brennan Lee Mulligan accepts a phone call.

[softshuji]

Hear me out but why do I just feel and know Hanma is the type of guy who carries like loads of weird but oddly specific catered-to-you things in his pockets? He's really attentive and observant so he can kinda tell when you're getting anxious / restless in public so he hands you one of the many sweets and random sweet things in his pockets for you to focus on something else and rubs small circles on the back of your hand while you chew absent-mindedly on random confectionary to keep distracted?

He knows you like the back of his own hand so he can tell when you're starting to feel a little out of sorts and he keeps his pockets full for that reason. Gum, lemon sherbet, lollipops, anything he can get at any time. And sometimes he'll reach into his pocket to grab something for you and accidentally pull out a bullet or two mixed in there with the rest of the stuff, and you'll give him a look and he'll grin sheepishly while he pockets it again.

[imbadatparking]

you looked at me with softened almond eyes, edges wrinkles up in the way only smile lines can. your eyes always reminded me of those sour apple rings – sugary on the outside, sour on the inside, and I think if the only person you were ever kind to was me, that is all the motivation I need to stay on earth.

your twizzler red lips curled into a smile, chewy rope tilted up and I thought if I leaned over and kissed you, it would be entirely too sweet. I’ve never liked twizzlers, but I’d eat them everyday if it meant just one moment with you.

your laugh is unabashed and loud, the savory butter to your smile’s maple syrup. cozy, warm, and confectionary, I think I could drown in your presence if you weren’t my anchor.

freckles span across your skin like they could tell a future of us. you and me, me and you. maybe laughing at something stupid I said. maybe sharing a bowl of candy. I always thought they were too sweet, but it’s okay – it’s the perfect excuse to give you half anyway.

| k. - I tried to write you something, but I had a reese’s in my mouth and you were smiling so big, I got distracted. - @nosebleedclub xxii. maple syrup

[radiatorchains]

The trip had been almost a complete bust- turns out while there are individuals who spoke some English, Jain's accent and vernacular proved to be a bit too much for some. Coupled with the fact that with his former Boss no longer in the picture, Jain ddn't have any local currency. Or rather any currency. Boss was still in possession of his fake passport, IDs, things needed to get back to the states or anywhere. He certainly was kicking himself for having caved when he did before getting those things from Vaclàv.

Tossing Alexa a few boxes of, what Jain assumed to be, some sort of confectionary, he lugged the bags of concrete and some tools into his room and got to work. Repairing the floor as well as distracting himself with physical labor only helped for a little while before he felt a pull at his chest again.

Maybe Boss is awake

Old habits died hard, but hunger forced him bot to care as he left his room to see where Melchior was. His mind wemt back to the strange, new high the vampire's blood had given him, and his animal brain craved more of it.

             "Mel? Sir?" Jain called out gently, wandering about the strange home.

@szemiesza

[asdfghjklmals]

˚‧༶✩ SATORU GOJO

don’t get blocked! did you read the rules yet?

MALS' NOTE

i have nothing to say about him. only that i love him.

enjoy reading about oc gojo girlfriend and satoru’s love story and the phases of life they’ve gone through together since they met at jujutsu high. 💚

legend: ✿ = fluff ❀ = angst

✿ love at first fight how satoru meets oc gojo girlfriend.

✿ sleeping with the enemy two sorcerers, one bed troupe. follows ‘love at first fight’.

✿ the courage to try satoru wishes that oc gojo girlfriend and him could be more than just friends. follows ‘sleeping with the enemy’.

✿ souvenirs satoru brings oc gojo girlfriend home something that will remind her of him.

✿ meet the gojos oc gojo girlfriend meets satoru’s family for the first time.

❀ ✿ fated to love you satoru meets oc gojo girlfriend's family for the first time. follows ‘meet the gojos’.

❀ ✿ the honored one satoru's near death experience makes him realize what is important. oc gojo girlfriend learns a hard lesson. follows ‘fated to love you’.

❀ ✿ learn to love satoru finds megumi and tsumiki fushiguro and brings them home to meet oc gojo girlfriend.

❀ ✿ pinky promises oc gojo girlfriend teaches megumi something about promises with satoru. follows 'learn to love'.

✿ learning from the strongest satoru teaches megumi how to use his shikigami demon dogs for the first time.

❀ to be present suguru geto is sentenced to death by the jujutsu society. will oc gojo girlfriend’s love be enough to heal satoru's broken heart?

✿ back to school oc gojo girlfriend and satoru take megumi and tsumiki to sign up for school.

❀ ✿ seeing red oc gojo girlfriend and satoru have an argument.

✿ graduation oc gojo girlfriend and satoru graduate from tokyo jujutsu high school!

✿ safe haven oc gojo girlfriend and satoru go apartment hunting to fit their unconventional family of four. follows 'graduation'.

✿ fairytales tsumiki thinks yours and satoru's love story is based off of a fairytale.

✿ morning routine satoru and oc gojo girlfriend's morning routine. NOTE: tumblr added a content warning, but it's sfw.

✿ lilies & roses happy mother's day oc gojo girlfriend!

✿ sugar daddy happy father's day satoru!

❀ break up to make up oc gojo girlfriend’s and satoru’s biggest fight ever.

✿ butterflies til' this day, oc gojo girlfriend still gives satoru butterflies.

✿ the purrr-fect approach tsumiki asks satoru if she can have a cat.

✿ forget me not satoru forgets oc gojo girlfriend’s birthday.

❀ ✿ wherever you are tsumiki asks satoru if she can study abroad.

✿ domain expansion: unlimited apologies satoru and oc gojo girlfriend tell their students about the first time they sparred

❀ sealed & delivered satoru arrives in shibuya but is sealed in the prison realm. megumi has to deliver the bad news to oc gojo girlfriend.

THE BABY GOJO CHRONICLES

✿❀ accidents oc gojo girlfriend finds out she's pregnant, what will satoru think?

✿ milestones short stories of oc gojo girlfriend and satoru's pregnancy journey.

✿ cravings oc gojo girlfriend's cravings keep her up at night.

✿ baby moon satoru and oc gojo girlfriend's last vacation together before baby gojo arrives (happens in the middle of milestones).

✿❀ hello baby baby gojo is born 💚

✿ morning routine 2.0 satoru and oc gojo girlfriend’s updated morning routine.

✿ date night vs. babysitting night megumi offers to watch satoru’s and oc gojo girlfriend’s child so they can go on a date.

✿ lilies & roses 2.0 oc gojo girlfriend and satoru celebrate baby gojo's first valentine's day!

✿ grateful for you oc gojo girlfriend and baby gojo’s night routine has to include satoru.

✿ confectionary distractions oc gojo girlfriend and satoru battle against their child in the game of clipping fingernails.

✿ the sweetest sight satoru and oc gojo girlfriend take their child out to get a sweet treat. 🍩

© 2023-2024 ASDFGHJKLMALS — all rights reserved. please do not copy, translate, or repost my work.

dividers provided by @/anlian-aishang

[vegitoswife-archive]

Vegito x Reader Collection

PART 2 - SHOPPING (read all the parts here!)

If one thought buying groceries when you lived with a Saiyan would be pricey…they were right.

Pushing one of the carts that was filled to the brim through the isle, you watched in weariness as Vegito pushed the other with one hand, using his other to grab more food items from the surrounding shelves to toss into it. You were thankful over he already knowing what the both of you relatively needed, but the sheer amount because of his appetite was always brutal on your wallet.

Granted, you both did split the bill, but you had to pay more of it than he did because his own job wasn’t exactly the most generous with fulfilling paychecks. A certain hot-headed matriarch that lived on a mountain with his youngest half son, demanded most of the cut from his farming duty. It was very fortunate that his other children were either already adults and could care for themselves, or had a wealthy mother who co-operated one of the biggest companies in the world.

But, you wouldn’t ever blame him for the circumstances in his life, nor for how much of a bottomless pit his stomach genuinely seemed at times. Neither was his fault.

“We need more bread, right?” His voice snapped you out of your reverie.

“Yes. But, please put it in the seat this time, so it doesn’t get crushed.”

“Yeah yeah, I know.” His brown eyes roll as he answered with a dismissive tone, which you couldn’t help but snicker at. On the last shopping trip, your oh-so observant boyfriend placed the bread you bought right into the cart with all the other items, and even placed more on top of it, which soon ended in it getting squashed. He didn’t care all that much, but you weren’t too happy eating unintentionally-flat bread.

You followed his lead, pushing the heavy cart with some difficulty as he headed over towards the bakery section of the supermarket. It was after you moved out of the isle, when you noticed a few people looking intently at Vegito while he pushed the other cart down the white tiles with no effort. Your eyes could have been playing tricks on you, but your gut told you that there was no mistaking the ogling they were doing.

It wasn’t like you were surprised. You of course knew full well how attractive he was. But it often irked you when others also took notice, even though you knew it shouldn’t…

Your steadily rising irritation spiked when some shoppers passed by in front of you, briefly cutting you off and forcing you to wait until they were out of the way. Looking around, you realized you lost sight of Vegito, but this didn’t trouble you. You knew where he was going, so it was only a matter of getting there and making sure he didn’t put the bread where it would get crushed again.

You continued pushing your cart, and eventually, you passed by a small group of women gushing over “that handsome, tailed man” and his “beautiful earrings”. Convinced you knew just who they were talking about, self-consciousness reared its ugly head up once again, and you tried to not entertain the possibility of you not being a worthy companion to the universe’s strongest fighter. You’ve done it too many times in the past, especially because you yourself hardly ever received such attention. Vegito shone so much brighter, charming people and engulfing you simultaneously, to the point you questioned why you were even there at all.

You were distracted from the bile rising in your throat when you walked by an isle filled with candy, and saw only Vegito standing there with the second cart. He was looking over something, and you wasted no time in approaching him.

“Gito? Why are you here?” The supermarket’s bakery was their next destination, and despite how ravenous he could be, the Saiyan didn’t eat confectionary that often. He enjoyed the sugary flavors, but the sweets tended to not agree with his stomach, usually leading to some very…smelly results.

He faced you with a soft grin, and held out what he was holding.

“I saw there was candy here, and thought to get you the kind you like. It’s this, right?”

You suddenly felt a gentle, soothing warmth spread throughout your body. The corners of your lips curled upwards uncontrollably, and you accepted the offered candy, fingers brushing against his own as you did so. In that moment, seeing him do something as little as remember your favorite sweet and choosing to get it for you just to do it, you had forgotten about what was plaguing your thoughts minutes before.

No matter if you were unremarkable to others, Vegito cared a lot about you. That was more than enough.

[drippingheart]

. . . . Like any healthy teenager, taste buds carried a fondness for sweet things, but in no way did his like of sweets border on Gojō Satoru's @nabiaes love ... obsession with confectionaries. Just witnessing his pseudo father's gluttony for anything containing sugar had a way of twisting stomach uncomfortably. Megumi did keep a bag of assorted fruit gummy sweets strictly for his sensei — rather, strictly to distract or lure away the ivory haired man.

( ❛ Promise you'll leave me alone for the afternoon, and I'll give you more candy. ❜ )

Be a good man sat in the back of his mind. It remained there. There was nothing professional about their relationship, more familial than anything else, however he did not want to incur any reaction from uttering something so disrespectful.

[druidx]

Hi dru

Your blorbos have to go to the grocery store. How does it go?

Howdy Sleepy!

Since I am on my older Titan kick, I'll answer for the RPG group (not all technically my blorbos, but close enough)

Richard is the one who's made the meal plan, the shopping list, and who has control of the trolly and the money, and who is also doing 99% of the work.

Alexis is trying to help, but she's either being pulled away to look at something else by Bastet, or is getting distracted by the knives in the equipment aisle or the confectionary aisle.

Bastet and Victor aren't helping at all. Instead they're poking around the confectionary or the ice cream and party food aisles, either sneaking extra stuff into the trolly or doing a little light shoplifting. If this supermarket is the type to have a huge toy aisle, then they are 100% finding all the things that make noises and setting them all off before running away.

By the time Richard has finished and Alexis is helping him get everything to the car, something has been set on fire, security has been called, and Bastet and Victor are leaving through a different exit whistling surreptitiously. They'll eventually make it back to the car, giggling between themselves, and Richard will know better than to ask.

Thanks for the question & happy wording! 🫖️🌿️

[motherofdragonflies]

A Very Prompty Christmas Day 28: Movies

“Five tickets for ‘Soul’, please,” Dean said cheerfully, pushing his credit card through the plexiglass divider to the completely unenthused teen behind the counter.

The printer spat out a strip of tickets and the teen handed them to Dean, along with his credit card, and recited, “enjoy the movie” in a tone that said ‘I couldn’t care less if you enjoy the movie, they pay me to say it, not to care,’ and Dean could relate.

“Thanks,” Dean said, and herded his small family (his heart aching at the idea that he had a small family, and desperately wanting to wrap his arms around them and never let them go) towards the confectionary stand. “All right, who wants popcorn?”

As Sam, Eileen and Jack began to negotiate the minefield that was popcorn and drinks and candy, Cas pulled Dean slightly to one side.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Cas asked, and Dean nodded, trying to seem more confident than he felt.

“‘Course it’s a good idea,” Dean said. “Look at him, doesn’t he look like he’s having fun?”

Cas turned his head to look where Dean was gesturing, and Dean followed his gaze to look at Jack, currently holding two large buckets of popcorn in the crooks of his arm and smiling at something Sam had said to him. But as Cas and Dean watched, Sam turned back to ask Eileen something and the smile slipped from Jack’s face, the corners of his mouth turning down and his eyes growing sombre.

Dean sighed. Since Christmas Day, Jack had grown more and more quiet, his face falling into deeply contemplative lines when he didn’t think anyone was watching. Cas had raised it with Dean that morning, but Dean had been watching for days, watching as a sadness rolled in like storm clouds obscuring the brilliant midday sun. Today’s activity—a two-hour road trip to the multiplex to see a movie—was Dean’s last-ditch attempt to do something fun with Jack, for Jack, because he had a horrible feeling that this was going to be the last time they saw the kid, maybe forever.

He turned to Cas. “Can’t we just enjoy ourselves?” he asked Cas. “Watch the movie, eat some popcorn, pretend for a few hours that everything’s okay? Please?”

Cas turned his gaze away from Jack and met Dean’s eyes. “Of course, Dean,” he agreed. “We can do that.”

Relieved, Dean smiled and reached out, taking Cas’ hand and squeezing it tightly. Cas looked at him curiously but didn’t let go, instead lacing his fingers through Dean’s hand and tugging Dean after him as he walked towards Sam, Eileen and Jack, who were waiting for them, arms full of popcorn and soda and boxes of candy.

Dean saw Sam’s eyes drop to his and Cas’ hands, and for a second, Dean panicked. He’d forgotten that they were out in public, that he and Cas weren’t in their own little bubble, tucked away together where the world couldn’t see them. The world could see them, two men, holding hands, and an ugly voice in the back of Dean’s head started whispering horrible, insidious things, that made Dean want to drop Cas’ hand, move away, crack some kind of joke as a distraction.

Cas’ hand started to slip away, almost as though he could sense Dean’s inner turmoil and wanted to spare him, and Dean’s fingers scrambled to grab at Cas’ hand, to hold on to him tightly. It was easy to be brave in the privacy of their bedroom, to tell Cas how he really felt when it was just Cas and Dean. It had been not as easy to be brave in front of Sam, to not hold back from touching Cas the way he wanted to touch him, but still low-stakes, since Sam had apparently known about them all along. But being brave wasn’t about doing the hard thing when it was easy, it was about being terrified and doing the hard thing anyway, and so Dean held Cas’ hand as he walked across the lobby.

If he kept his eyes resolutely on Sam so he couldn’t see the reactions of anybody around him, well, Dean never claimed to be completely brave.

Sam’s eyes were proud as he handed Dean a bucket of popcorn and a box of popcorn, and Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Yeah, yeah, shuddup,” he grumbled, making Sam laugh and Jack ask what was so funny, making Sam laugh harder as he turned and headed into the cinema.

------------------------------------------

It was a red-eyed and sniffling group that left the cinema two hours later, all of them deeply affected in a way that Dean didn’t think animated movies had any right to do. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to take a group of people who had all experienced death and rebirth, two of them losing their souls along the way as well, to a movie about, well, death and souls and rebirth, but in Dean’s defence, how was he supposed to know that that’s what the movie was about? He’d seen ‘animated’ and a session that had open captions and thought bingo. He didn’t realise he’d be traumatising everyone, including himself.

The drive back to Lebanon was quiet, the only sound in the car the jazz music Sam played through his phone after Jack asked a question about the music from the movie. Cas was sitting up front next to Dean, eyes constantly flicking up to the rearview mirror, brow furrowed with concern. Dean looked up, and met Jack’s eyes in the mirror, his blue eyes sad but determined, and Dean forced down the lump that had suddenly grown in his throat.

Dean guided the Impala down into the Bunker’s garage and parked her in “her’ spot, then cut the engine. As everyone climbed out and Sam and Eileen made their way up towards the main level, Dean caught Jack by the elbow.

“Jack, hey,” Dean said, holding him back. He sensed Cas coming around the car to stand next to him. “What’s going on?”

Jack looked between Cas and Dean and then sighed. “It’s time for me to go,” he said reluctantly.

Dean exchanged an alarmed look with Cas and then looked back at Jack. “Go? Back to Heaven?”

Jack nodded. “I wanted to have Christmas with my family, and I did. I had a wonderful Christmas. But Christmas is over now, and I need to return to Heaven. I…my presence has been missed,” he said.

Dean opened his mouth to argue, to try to convince Jack to stay just a few more days, to spend more time with Cas, but before he could, Cas asked, “Is everything alright in Heaven, Jack?”

“Oh! Yes,” Jack assured him. “The angels have been working hard. I just…I have responsibilities,” and his young shoulders sagged for a moment, weighed down with the weight of those responsibilities. “And I shouldn’t neglect them any longer. No matter how much I enjoyed being here and spending time with my family.” He gave Cas a smile that was only slightly tinged with sadness, and Dean felt that lump in his throat grow bigger.

“When will we see you again?” Dean asked.

Jack turned a beautific smile towards him. “When it’s your time,” he said simply. “Which won’t be for a long time yet. But I’ll be waiting. For both of you,” he added, looking at Cas, and Dean felt tears fill his eyes at the reminder that Cas was human now. Mortal. He would grow old, and one day he would die, just as Dean would grow old and die.

But what was death, really, when you knew what awaited you? How could you fear death when it wasn’t an ending, but a new beginning? How could you be sad when it meant that you would be reunited in paradise with your family?

“I’m gonna miss you, kid,” Dean croaked, grabbing Jack and hauling him into a tight embrace. Jack clung to him, hands clutching at the back of his jacket, face buried in the crook of Dean’s neck, and Dean closed his eyes and held him, trying to commit the feel of the young man in his arms to his memory.

He felt Jack pull away and let him go, clenching his jaw and trying to stop the tears in his eyes from spilling over when Jack turned to Cas and threw himself into his father’s arms, Cas’ hugging him back just as tightly, whispering something into Jack’s ear as he held him. Jack nodded and pulled back, keeping his hands on Cas’ shoulders as he looked at Cas.

“I will, I promise,” he said.

“Good,” Cas said, his voice low and rough, his eyes shiny with tears.

“When,” Dean started, his voice sounding just as wrecked as Cas’, and coughed, trying again. “When are you going?”

Jack dropped his hands and looked at Dean. “Now,” he said.

It was too soon, they hadn’t had long enough, there was still so much that Dean needed to make amends for, so much he wanted to show Jack—

“What about Sam?” was what came out of his mouth, and he saw Jack hesitate.

“I…will you say goodbye for me? I don’t think I can…” and just for a moment, Jack looked like the young child he really was, and Dean nodded, willing to do anything that Jack asked if it stopped him from looking like that.

“Of course, Jack. He will be sad that he didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, but I understand,” Cas said.

“I won’t really be gone,” Jack offered, and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, every drop of rain,” Dean said. “I remember.”

“And you can talk to me, whenever you want,” Jack said, perking up slightly. “I might not be able to answer, but I’ll hear you.”

“Thank you, Jack,” Cas said, and Dean nodded in agreement.

Jack took a deep breath and released it. “Well. Goodbye,” he said, holding up one hand.

“Goodbye, Jack, “ Cas said.

“Bye, kid,” Dean forced out, and with a smile that was only slightly sad, Jack turned and started to walk up the ramp that lead out of the garage, his image growing fainter and fainter until he finally faded from view.

“Goddamnit,” Dean choked out, unable to hold back the tears anymore, and he turned at the touch of Cas’ hand on his arm and buried himself in Cas’ embrace, feeling Cas’ shoulders shake as they clung to each and cried. It wasn’t really goodbye, but right at that very second, it felt like it.

~

We’re getting so close to the end! Come back tomorrow for Day 29: Cozy

Day One: Advent Calendar

Day Two: Tinsel

Day Three: Ribbon

Day Four: Shopping

Day Five: Ugly Sweater

Day Six: Candy Canes

Day Seven: Christmas Spirit

Day Eight: Mistletoe

Day Nine: Gingerbread

Day Ten: Eggnog

Day Eleven: Naughty or Nice

Day Twelve: Snow

Day Thirteen: Sleigh Ride

Day Fourteen: Tree Farm

Day Fifteen: Decorations

Day Sixteen: Angels

Day Seventeen: Lights

Day Eighteen: Christmas Miracle

Day Nineteen: Kris Kringle (Part One)

Day Nineteen: Kris Kringle (Part Two)

Day Twenty: Party

Day Twenty-One: Baking

Day Twenty-Two: Carols

Day Twenty-Three: Santa Claus

Day Twenty-Four: Christmas Eve

Day Twenty-Five: Christmas Morning (Part One)

Day Twenty-Five: Christmas Morning (Part Two)

Day Twenty-Six: Leftovers

Day Twenty-Seven: Candles