#mild flour cookie

[cookiesrunaus-whitelily]

I want to see anymore art you have of little demons au

I've had a creative block, but I hope you like it!

And guess what! I found a float that really suits Sugar!

It's so cute!

[misswynters]

Cookie Chaos

featuring. husband! sylus and wife! reader

There was a scent of cinnamon and nutmeg that filled the kitchen, mingling with the holiday music playing softly in the background. The twins, with their small aprons adorned with tiny snowflakes, stood on stools next to the counter, their eager hands reaching for flour and sugar. Their giggles echoed through the room, a sweet melody of joy as they worked under your supervision to bake cookies for the holiday party. You leaned against the kitchen island, watching the scene unfold, the corners of your mouth twitching as you fought to contain your laughter.

Sylus stood at the stove, his expression a mixture of exasperation and mild amusement as he stirred a pot of hot chocolate. “Sweetie,” he muttered, glancing at you with a pointed look, “are you sure this was a good idea?” His voice was low and gruff, but there was a tenderness beneath it that softened the scolding.

Before you could answer, one of the twins who were covered in a dusting of flour, grabbed the measuring cup with both hands and with their excitement, spilled half of it on the counter. Sylus pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled through his teeth. “Careful,” he said, his tone steady but firm. “We’re supposed to be making cookies, not a disaster zone.”

“They’re doing fine,” you said, biting back a laugh as the other twin grabbed a fistful of sprinkles and tossed it into the air like confetti. A rainbow of tiny sugar dots rained down, landing on the counter and the floor. With the chaotic mess of the baking, Sylus carefully cleaned stovetop. Patience running thin.

However before Sylus could protest, the sound of heavy boots echoed through the hallway. Kieran and Luke entered, their grins as mischievous as ever. “What’s this?” Kieran asked, leaning against the doorframe. “A baking party without us? That’s just rude.”

Luke’s sharp eyes scanned the scene, taking in the twins’ messy but enthusiastic efforts. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full,” he said dryly, his lips curving into a faint smirk.

Sylus groaned, setting the spoon down with a clatter. “No. Absolutely not. You two are not—”

“Too late!” Kieran interrupted, rolling up his sleeves as he strode toward the counter. “We’re already here, might as well help.”

“‘Help,’” Sylus repeated, his tone heavy with skepticism as he crossed his arms. “The last time you two ‘helped,’ the kitchen smelled like burnt sugar for a week.”

Luke shrugged, already picking up a rolling pin. “That’s what happens when you experiment with caramel,” he said matter-of-factly, ignoring Sylus’s glare.

The twins, thrilled by the new additions to their team, clapped their hands and cheered. “Uncle Kieran! Uncle Luke! Look, we’re making cookies!”

Kieran leaned down, his face level with theirs, and whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, “How about we make the biggest cookie ever? Like, one the size of a plate.”

Sylus’s brows knit together as he straightened his posture, a looming figure of disapproval. “Absolutely not. Stick to the recipe.”

But Kieran was already pouring extra chocolate chips into the batter, much to the twins’ delight. Luke, ever the quieter instigator, grabbed another mixing bowl and began preparing a second batch, muttering something about “adding some flair.”

You couldn’t help it anymore; a laugh escaped you, as you leaned back against the counter. Sylus shot you a look, one brow arched in mock indignation. “Sweetie, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am,” you said, wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of your eye. “But you’ve got to admit, this is pretty entertaining.”

“Entertaining isn’t the word I’d use,” he muttered, his gaze shifting back to Kieran, who was now attempting to juggle eggs to impress the twins. One egg slipped from his grasp, landing with a splat on the floor.

Sylus inhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening as he grabbed a towel to clean up the mess. “Kieran,” he said, his voice calm but edged with warning, “if you don’t stop acting like a circus act, you’re banned from the kitchen. Permanently.”

Kieran grinned, unrepentant. “Relax, Sylus. It’s the holidays. Live a little.”

Luke, meanwhile, had somehow managed to get powdered sugar on his shirt, his usually impeccable demeanor slightly disheveled. “This is why I don’t cook,” he muttered under his breath, though there was a faint smile on his lips as one of the twins handed him a cookie cutter shaped like a star.

The kitchen became a flurry of activity, with the twins shouting out instructions, Kieran making exaggerated declarations about being the “best baker in the galaxy,” and Luke quietly fixing whatever chaos his brother caused. You watched it all with a full heart, your gaze drifting to Sylus, who was doing his best to keep everything from spiraling out of control.

Despite his grumbles and sighs, there was a softness to his movements as he leaned over to guide one of the twins’ hands while they rolled out dough. His large fingers enveloped their tiny ones, and his voice dropped to a gentle murmur as he explained how to press the cutter firmly into the dough.

“Like this,” he said, demonstrating with patience that belied his usual gruffness. The twin beamed up at him, their face glowing with pride as they successfully cut out a perfect snowman shape.

You caught his eye from across the room and smiled. “You’re a natural, you know.”

Sylus scoffed, though a faint blush crept up his neck. “Don’t start, sweetie.”

By the time the cookies were in the oven, the kitchen looked like a war zone. Flour dusted every surface, sprinkles crunched underfoot, and smudges of chocolate adorned everyone’s cheeks. Kieran had somehow managed to get frosting in his hair, and Luke was carefully peeling a sticky candy cane off his sleeve.

Sylus surveyed the chaos with a resigned sigh, his hands on his hips. “This is what happens when I let you two in here,” he said, his tone more tired than angry.

Kieran clapped him on the back. “Lighten up, Sylus. The kids had fun, didn’t they?”

The twins, now perched on stools, nodded vigorously. “It was the best day ever!” one of them declared, their face glowing with happiness.

Sylus’s expression softened as he looked at them, his annoyance melting away like snow under the sun. “Yeah,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “It was.”

As the cookies baked, the family gathered in the living room to wait. The twins, still buzzing with energy, sat on the rug and began sorting through cookie cutters, debating which ones were their favorites. Kieran sprawled on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, while Luke leaned against the armchair, his expression one of calm amusement.

You settled into the loveseat next to Sylus, leaning into his side. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “You’re too soft on them,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple.

“That’s because I know when to pick my battles,” you replied, smiling up at him.

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that made your heart flutter. “I’ll never understand how you put up with all this chaos.”

“Because it’s our chaos,” you said, resting your head against his chest. “And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

When the timer dinged, signaling that the cookies were ready, the twins scrambled to the kitchen, dragging Kieran and Luke with them. Sylus followed at a slower pace, his hand resting on your lower back as you walked together.

The cookies, which were golden and abit deformed, was proof of the day’s chaotic and messy effort. As everyone gathered around to taste them, the twins’ laughter rang out, filling the room with warmth. Sylus took a bite and nodded approvingly. “Not bad,” he admitted, earning cheers from the twins.

As the evening wore on and the mess was slowly cleaned, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. And as Sylus wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close for a brief but tender kiss, you knew he felt the same. The cookies will definitely not be taken to the holiday party, maybe you would stop by the store to buy some.

[spinfins]

Lighthouse meals start slowly, you guys.

First it’s just Harding, Neve, Bellara and Rook. Grim-faced and in survival mode, they survey Solas’s supply of raisins and potatoes and agree that takeout from Docktown is the way to go. (No one says anything when Rook gets an extra portion for “Varric”.)

They survive this way for however many days (at one point Harding tried to make raisin cookies, but potato starch doesn’t react like flour).

And then comes Lucanis.

Newly freed from the Ossuary, and reinvigorated, he takes in the mountain of takeout boxes, greasy wrappers, and shish-ka-bob sticks that have overflowed the table and the seating area in the kitchen.

He looks at the four waxy, hungry, faces warily staring at him from their nest of fast food leavings like four fledglings that have been left to fend for themselves.

These are the warriors that will help him fulfill his contract and slay a god?

No. He thinks. This will not do.

He recruits Rook (the most ready of the four if not the most healthy) and goes to Treviso for supplies.

When he calls them all into the kitchen that evening they trail in cautiously, sniffing the air. Is this some new trick by the fade?

It is not.

The place has been transformed. There are dishes on the table. There is a cloth on the table! Rook picks up a fork and runs her finger across the tines as though it is a foreign artifact.

Moving slowly so as not to startle his new garbage nestlings, Lucanis brings a pot of thick, warm, soup to the table. He sets out a basket of crusty bread slices and a slab of butter, pots of jam and honey. A bowl of freshly cut fruit, and a plate of grilled vegetables sits by. There is even a jug of cold milk. No reason not to build up calcium, and he is not certain if he was mild enough on the spices for his starving waifs.

“Is this?” Rook asks (there are tears in their eyes). “Is this for us?”

“MMM,” Spite says enticingly, wafting the soup steam towards them. “SMELLS DELICIOUS.”

Lucanis cuts him off before he frightens them away, but it is not necessary. When he regains control he sees his trash children seated and scarfing down his food.

Spite hums in satisfaction in his chest. They will work on manners later.

[sundropflowerr]

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas | Steve Harrington

★ Warnings: dad!steve, mom!reader, husband!steve, fem!reader, no use of y/n, established marriage, domestic fluff, mentions of parenting and child behavior, playful family banter, holiday traditions, mild chaos caused by kids, Steve being the ultimate dad, tender family moments, sweet kisses, references to Home Alone, soft nostalgia, and an abundance of Christmas warmth.

★ Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, 1995, and the Harrington family is in full holiday mode. Between their six-year-old son Ethan’s endless questions, their four-year-old daughter Sadie’s knack for causing adorable mischief, and Steve’s playful dad jokes, the night is full of warmth and laughter. 3k

★ Pairings: steve harrington x fem!reader

★ Fic Inspiration: “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” - Frank Sinatra (again)

★ Dividers: thank you to @bernardsbendystraws for the adorable divider, it’s greatly appreciated!

★ Author’s Note: husband and dad steve harrington. goodness. anyways this should be the last Christmas and overall fic of the year (be on the look out for new year’s day) unless i get inspiration again. this is horribly messy and terribly written but nonetheless enjoy!

Snow fell steadily outside the Harrington home, muffling the usual sounds of Hawkins under a thick, sparkling blanket.

The rooftops were capped in white, the snowdrifts shimmering under the glow of streetlamps. Icicles hung from the edges of the roof, catching the twinkle of the colorful Christmas lights that Steve had painstakingly strung up a week ago, with the help of 6 year old Ethan’s enthusiastic, yet, chaotic help.

Each light blinked in perfect rhythm, painting the snow below in shifting hues of red, green, and gold. Through the fogged-up windows, the warm golden light of the Christmas tree spilled onto the lawn, offering a glimpse of the cozy world within.

Inside, the kitchen was a war zone of holiday cheer. Flour clung to nearly every surface—the countertops, the floor, and even the stool where little 4 year old Sadie stood, perched like a determined little artist. It dusted the tip of her nose and her wild curls, making her look like a miniature mad scientist as she meticulously squeezed green frosting onto a gingerbread man.

Her tongue poked out in focused concentration, her small hands gripping the frosting tube as if her life depended on it. Beside her, an array of cookies lay half-finished on the counter, buried under uneven layers of sprinkles and frosting swirls. Each one was a testament to her boundless creativity, if not her precision.

“Santa loves sprinkles,” Sadie declared with absolute certainty, her little face scrunched in concentration as she scooped a generous handful of the colorful confetti-like decorations from the nearest bowl.

The sprinkles scattered across the gingerbread man with wild abandon, tumbling off the edges and onto the counter, onto the floor, and even into the air, as if they were little bursts of festive confetti.

“Santa doesn’t want to eat cookies that are all sprinkles,” Ethan countered from across the counter, his voice dripping with the kind of exasperation only a six-year-old with a perfectionist streak could muster.

He was working on a star-shaped cookie, his movements precise, deliberate. The tiny silver balls he was placing on the edges of the cookie were perfectly symmetrical, each one spaced exactly the same distance apart, as though he were an engineer and this cookie was his blueprint.

Sadie, undeterred, shot her brother a sideways glance, her lips twisting into a defiant pout. “Santa loves all cookies!” she shot back, her voice high and firm, as if daring him to challenge her further. She grabbed another handful of sprinkles, her tiny fingers clumsily but lovingly adding them to her gingerbread creation with a look of pure determination in her eyes.

Steve, who had been quietly observing the sibling exchange from his spot leaning against the fridge, let out a low chuckle, his arms crossed loosely across his chest. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he watched his children, clearly entertained by the growing battle of wills between his two little ones. “You know, Sadie,” he said, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm, “I think Ethan might have a point. That gingerbread guy looks like he just survived an explosion at a sprinkle factory.”

Sadie gasped dramatically, clutching the cookie to her chest as if Steve had just insulted her entire artistic vision. “He’s festive, Daddy!” she protested, her eyes wide with faux horror. “Santa will think he’s beautiful!”

Steve raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Alright, alright. Festive, got it. You win, kiddo,” he said, backing off, but his smile never faded.

You glanced up from where you were carefully transferring a fresh batch of cookies onto the cooling rack. You’d been absorbed in your task, the warm scent of cinnamon and vanilla filling the room, but the sounds of your kids’ banter had been too amusing to ignore. You shot a smirk over at Steve, catching the tail end of his playful exchange with Sadie. “Don’t encourage them, Steve,” you said, your voice a mix of amusement and mock exasperation. “This kitchen already looks like a bomb went off in a bakery.”

Steve turned to you with that familiar, mischievous grin that always seemed to pull at your heartstrings. He pushed off the counter and sauntered over, his presence a comforting warmth that seemed to fill the space between you. As he reached you, he slipped his arms around your waist, pulling you close, his chin resting on your shoulder as he kissed the side of your neck, his lips soft against your skin.

“Oh, come on," he said, his voice a playful murmur, "It's Christmas. A little chaos is good for the soul."

The warmth of his touch and the affection in his kiss made your heart flutter, but before you could respond, you heard a chorus of groans from behind you.

"Eww, Daddy, gross!" Ethan wrinkled his nose, his six-year-old voice full of dramatic disapproval. Sadie was standing beside him, her eyes wide as she tugged at his sleeve, mimicking his disgust.

"Yeah, gross!" she added, her voice just as playful, though her face was scrunched in exaggerated annoyance. "Get a room!"

Steve pulled back slightly, his smile widening as he laughed. "Hey, you two can't appreciate true love yet," he teased, raising an eyebrow at them. "When you're older, you'll understand."

You chuckled, shaking your head as you met Ethan’s wide-eyed gaze, his expression a mix of surprise and genuine concern.

"They're right, Daddy," you teased. "We'll have to save the romance for later."

"Yeah, later!" Sadie agreed with a dramatic sigh, making a show of fanning herself with one hand, as if the display of affection had been too much to handle.

Steve gave a mock sigh of defeat, but his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer for another kiss, this time to the top of your head. "Guess we'll have to keep it PG for a little while, huh?" he murmured with a playful grin, his voice soft but full of affection.

As you hold onto his arms that wrap around you, the warmth of his embrace grounding you, you couldn't help but smile at the chaotic love that surrounded you. The kids' teasing, the laughter, and the warmth in the room-all of it felt like exactly what you needed. It was chaotic, but it was perfect.

The kitchen was, indeed, a disaster—sprinkles everywhere, frosting streaked across the table, and flour footprints leading from the counter to the floor. And yet, in the midst of the mess, there was something so perfectly Christmas about it all. You couldn’t help but shake your head fondly at the sight of your two children, Sadie with her chaotic artistic flair and Ethan with his precision, both creating their own little pieces of holiday magic in their own ways.

You let out a soft sigh, your heart swelling with a mix of warmth and contentment. This was your life now—messy, loud, and filled to the brim with joy. The kind of joy that came from every moment spent together, it was imperfect, but it was yours. And you wouldn’t change a thing.

“I suppose a little chaos is good for the soul,” you muttered, leaning into Steve’s embrace, your back resting against his torso. “But we’ll have to clean it all up before Santa comes.”

Steve’s grin widened as he kissed the top of your head. “Deal,” he said softly, his voice warm, full of affection. “But for now, let’s just enjoy it.”

And in that moment, amidst the mess, the laughter of your kids, and the hum of Christmas music playing softly in the background, you truly did. You couldn’t imagine a better way to spend Christmas Eve.

By the time the last batch of cookies had cooled, the kids had moved on to decorating with gusto. Sadie was a whirlwind of frosting and sprinkles, her hands sticky but her smile wide. Ethan’s creations, on the other hand, could have been featured in a magazine—each one neat, symmetrical, and perfect in its own way.

“Do you think Santa will like mine better?” Ethan asked as he placed a gingerbread snowman carefully on the plate.

“Santa loves everything,” you replied diplomatically, shooting Steve a look that warned him not to stir the pot.

“He’ll love Sadie’s too,” Steve added, crouching down to examine one of her creations. “Especially this one. It’s, uh… very colorful.”

Sadie beamed, clearly taking this as the highest of compliments.

Once the cookies were arranged on a plate, along with a glass of milk, the four of you moved into the living room. Ethan darted ahead to claim the best spot on the couch, while Sadie grabbed her stuffed reindeer and curled up in Steve’s lap.

Steve held up a VHS tape like it was a trophy. “Tonight’s pick: Home Alone.”

Ethan pumped a fist in the air. “Yes!”

Sadie giggled, clutching her reindeer tightly. “Kevin’s so funny!”

You settled onto the couch next to Ethan, draping a blanket over your lap as Steve popped the tape into the VCR. The kids quieted as the familiar opening music began, their eyes glued to the screen.

The living room was warm and cozy, the fire crackling softly in the hearth. The Christmas tree lights cast colorful patterns across the walls, and the faint scent of pine mingled with the sugary sweetness lingering from the kitchen.

As Kevin McCallister navigated his hijinks, Sadie giggled uncontrollably at the Wet Bandits’ antics, her laughter ringing through the room. Ethan, meanwhile, provided a running commentary.

“They’re so silly,” he said, shaking his head as Harry slipped on the icy stairs for the third time. “Why don’t they just give up?”

“That’s not the point, buddy,” Steve replied, chuckling. “They’re supposed to be silly. It’s funny.”

“Kevin’s really brave,” Sadie whispered, clutching her reindeer as Kevin faced off against the burglars. “He’s all alone, but he’s not scared.”

You smoothed her curls with a gentle hand. “He’s smart too, just like you.”

Steve caught your eye, his expression softening as he smiled at you. These moments—the quiet, ordinary ones—were the ones he cherished most.

By the time the credits rolled, Sadie was fast asleep in Steve’s lap, her tiny hand clutching the fabric of his sweater. Ethan was valiantly trying to stay awake, but his head kept nodding forward, his stubbornness no match for his exhaustion.

Steve glanced down at Sadie, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Looks like it’s bedtime for these two.”

You nodded, sharing a glance with Steve as you both made your way toward the kids. Without a word, you reached down to gently lift Ethan into your arms. He squirmed slightly, grumbling under his breath, but didn’t protest as you settled him against your chest, his head resting on your shoulder. Steve, in turn, scooped up Sadie with ease, her small body curling instinctively into his hold. She mumbled something incoherent, her voice muffled by sleep, but didn’t wake as he cradled her against him.

The two of you made your way upstairs in comfortable silence, each step echoing softly through the house. It felt like a peaceful rhythm, this simple act of carrying your kids to bed, a reminder of how much you both cherished these little moments.

You reached Ethan’s room first, carefully lowering him into his bed. He groggily shifted under the covers, his sleepy eyes flicking up at you with a mix of curiosity and exhaustion. You helped him into his pajamas, smoothing out the fabric with a practiced hand before tucking him under the covers.

“Do you think Santa’s gonna like the cookies?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep but still filled with that unmistakable childlike wonder.

Steve, who had followed you into the room, chuckled softly as he leaned against the doorframe. “He’s gonna love them. Especially that one with all the sprinkles,” he said, grinning.

Ethan let out a small giggle, his eyes already fluttering closed. “Good,” he mumbled, his face relaxing into sleep as he drifted off, his soft breathing the only sound in the room.

Meanwhile, Steve took Sadie to her room. As soon as he placed her on her bed, she curled up into her blankets, her little reindeer toy tucked under her arm. She sighed contentedly as he adjusted the covers around her, kissing her forehead gently.

“Goodnight, lovebug,” you whispered from the doorway, watching the tender moment unfold.

Sadie mumbled something sleepy and incoherent, her eyes fluttering closed as she snuggled deeper into her pillow. “Goodnight,” she whispered back, her voice already soft with sleep.

As you and Steve stood in the doorway for a moment, watching your kids drift off into peaceful slumber, a sense of quiet satisfaction settled over you both. The house was still, the Christmas lights outside casting a gentle glow through the windows. Everything felt right. You turned to Steve, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “They’re going to be so excited when they wake up tomorrow.”

He nodded, his arm naturally finding its way around your waist as you both quietly left the room. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure they’ll be up before the sun is,” he said, his voice a mixture of amusement and fondness.

You smiled up at him, leaning into his side as the two of you headed back downstairs, the soft hum of Christmas music filling the air around you. It was a quiet night, just the two of you, in the calm after the chaos. And as the two of you settled back into the warmth of the living room, the love and laughter of the night still lingering in the air, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment. Christmas was here, and your family was exactly where they belonged.

“Think they’ll notice if we eat one?” Steve asked, breaking off a corner of a gingerbread man with a playful grin. He popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly as if savoring the moment.

You looked at him over the top of the cookie jar, raising an eyebrow. “Not unless you want to explain why there are bites taken out of the cookies they spent hours decorating.”

Steve shrugged, his eyes glinting with mischief as he reached for another cookie. “Eh, they’ll never know. Besides, Santa can always come up with his own cookies.”

You smirked, swatting his hand away as you grabbed one for yourself. “I’m pretty sure Santa’s going to have a sugar high with how much we’ve put out for him.”

He laughed, popping a piece of cookie into his mouth. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. I mean, we’ve done all the hard work, haven’t we?”

You took a bite of your own cookie, sighing in contentment. “True. These are way better than store-bought.”

Steve’s grin widened as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. “I think we’ve officially earned it. We’re doing all the Christmas magic around here.”

You laughed as Steve pulled you into his arms as the fire crackled softly behind you. The glow of the Christmas tree bathed the room in warmth, and Frank Sinatra’s “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” played faintly in the background.

As you leaned against him, the quiet of the moment settled over you like a blanket.

"This is it, you know," Steve said suddenly, his voice low and serious. His eyes were soft, distant in a way, as if he were taking in the entire scene-the glowing lights, the quiet of the house, the warmth of it all.

You looked up at him, your eyebrows furrowing slightly. "What is?" you asked, curious but not entirely sure what he meant.

"This," he said again, his gaze sweeping across the room, lingering for a moment on the kids' cookies on the counter, the half-empty mugs of hot chocolate, the soft Christmas lights casting a warm glow over the space. Then, his gaze landed back on you, his expression tender.

“The kids, the house, you. Everything I ever wanted. It's right here."

The way he said it-so genuine, so full of admiration-caught you off guard. Your chest tightened with emotion, and for a moment, you couldn't find the right words.

You reached up instinctively, cupping his cheek, feeling the stubble there beneath your palm, the warmth of him as you held him close.

"You deserve it, Steve," you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. "Every bit of it." You didn't need to elaborate. You knew what he meant.

Steve's gaze softened even further, a look in his eyes you could only describe as reverent.

Slowly, he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment as if savoring the feeling of being with you in this quiet, perfect moment. When he pulled back, he looked at you, his eyes filled with something deeper, something that made your heart swell.

"I don't know how I got so lucky," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

"But I don't think I'll ever be able to thank you enough for this. For us." His hand slid down to your waist, pulling you gently against him. He didn't rush it, just held you there, his lips grazing against yours in a kiss that was soft, slow-like he was trying to memorize the feeling of being close to you.

You smiled, your chest tight with affection. "I love you.”

There was a quiet stillness between you both, a peacefulness that wrapped around you like the softest blanket. The house was quiet, save for the faint hum of Christmas music drifting from the speakers and the distant sound of snow falling outside. But in this moment, nothing else mattered.

You were together. The life you had, the love you shared-it was everything, and it was yours.

Steve's hand gently brushed the back of your neck, and he kissed you again, his lips soft, lingering. It was a kiss that said more than words ever could-more than any ‘thank you' or 'I love you' could ever express.

You had everything. And you wouldn't change a single thing.

thank you so much for reading! please like/reblog or comment if you did, it would be greatly appreciated. have a great day and a happy holidays!!

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

More to Love | Sebastian Sallow x OC

listen we are all guilty of describing tall, model sebastian with a perfectly toned body and abs who is never insecure BUT NOBODY, AND I MEAN NOBODY, can rid of me of the headcannon that adult seb is a chunky man. nobody. you can tear it from my cold dead hands. have y'all seen solomon? beyond adolescence, sebastian does not have the genes for a fast metabolism, nor does sebastian possess self control against his vices (aka sweets). anyway this is a completely selfish indulgence. thick sebastian supremacy. that is all, tysm.

p.s. if anyone finds any fan art of this version of him i would literally go feral...

Words: ~5,400

Tags: Post Canon, Insecure Sebastian, Established Relationship, Romance, Fluff, Implied Smut, Size Kink(? I mean like I guess but I feel like we should just be appreciating all bodies ?)

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains of their cozy cottage, casting a warm golden glow over the kitchen. The faint, sugary scent of last night’s baking still lingered in the air—Evangeline’s attempt at perfecting a new cookie recipe. Sebastian remembered how she had glared at a plate of the so-called failures, muttering something about them being “too dry." Sebastian had happily devoured them, brushing off her perfectionist grumbles with a wink and a mouthful of cookies.

Now, the house was quiet, save for the occasional chirping of birds outside. Evangeline had already left for the market, a wicker basket in hand and a determined spring in her step. She’d kissed him on the forehead before leaving, murmuring something about getting the perfect flour for a sourdough recipe she’d been researching all week. He could still hear the echo of her soft laughter as she disappeared out the door.

Sebastian stretched, his muscles aching faintly in that satisfying way that came from a week filled with physical work. Being an Auror meant he was constantly on the move—tracking leads, chasing dark wizards, and, more often than he liked, dealing with paperwork that made him question all his life choices. But spring Saturdays like this, when he didn’t have to be anywhere but home, were his favorite.

He yawned and shuffled out of bed, raking a hand through his disheveled hair as he made his way to the wardrobe. Spring had finally settled in, bringing mild, sunny weather that called for something lighter than his usual layers. His hand landed on a familiar flannel shirt, one of his favorites. It was soft from years of wear, its faded green pattern perfect for the season.

Smiling faintly, he shrugged it over his shoulders and reached for the buttons—only to stop short when the fabric pulled taut across his shoulders and chest.

Frowning, he tugged harder, but the shirt refused to cooperate.

“What the…?” he muttered, stepping back toward the mirror.

Sebastian frowned deeper as he studied himself, his hands resting on his hips. The reflection was still undeniably his, but as his eyes trailed over his freckled skin, mapping the same familiar constellations he’d had for years, he realized the framework beneath had shifted in ways he hadn’t realized.

He rolled his shoulders experimentally, watching the way the muscle there still moved, still held its strength. Yet the sharp edges of his collarbones and the cut of his shoulders weren’t as defined as they used to be.

Turning slightly, he ran a hand down his chest, his fingers brushing over the faint dusting of hair. His pecs were still firm, still solid beneath his touch, but there was give there now, a softness that made his jaw tighten. He pressed lightly, testing the subtle give in his chest, before his hand drifted lower, skimming over the newfound curve of his stomach. His fingers prodded experimentally at the softness, sinking slightly into the layer of flesh, and he let out a quiet, frustrated huff. The firmness of his abs was still there—he reassured himself of that much—but they were now buried beneath the gentle padding that had crept in without him noticing.

In response, he straightened his posture, tightening his core instinctively as though to pull it all back in. The mirror reflected the faint impression of his old shape, but as soon as he relaxed, the softer curve returned.

Sebastian sighed in frustration, raking a hand through his messy hair. His fingers lingered at his jawline, as though suddenly aware of it, and his thumb brushed along the edge. Even that felt different—less angular than he remembered, the sharpness subtly softened, apparently, by one too many of Evangeline's cookies.

He turned back to face the mirror head-on, his fingers curling into his sides as he tried to reconcile the man in the reflection with the one he thought he’d been. The man Evangeline married had been sharp and lean, all hard edges and restless energy. Now, he looked... well, not like that.

Sebastian shrugged off the flannel and sat heavily on the edge of the bed, staring down at the worn rug beneath his feet. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and the movement made him acutely aware of a sensation he hadn't noticed before: a fold of flesh creasing above his waistband.

His hand hovered over it for a moment before he pressed his palm flat against his stomach, as if to confirm what he already knew.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath, his brow furrowing deeper.

His mind began to spiral, his thoughts moving too fast for him to catch hold of any one of them. How long had this been happening? Why hadn’t he noticed sooner? And worse—what did she think?

Evangeline saw him every day. She touched him, kissed him, curled up against him at night. She must have noticed. How could she not?

He thought about the way she looked at him—the warmth in her hazel eyes, the teasing curve of her lips. She’d always been affectionate, always quick to rest her head on his shoulder or slide her hand around his waist. But now that he really thought about it, was that affection the same as it had always been?

Or had it changed?

Sebastian’s mind raced through their recent interactions, searching for signs that Evangeline might have been... humoring him. Was she still as playful as she used to be? Did her hands linger on him the way they used to, or had she started pulling away without him noticing?

And what about the times when they weren’t just sitting on the couch or cooking together? What about the moments when they were truly alone, when her touch was softer and her voice was breathless?

The soft creak of the front door opening startled him out of his reverie. He heard the familiar rustle of her skirts and the gentle thud of her basket being placed on the kitchen table.

“Sebastian?” Evangeline’s voice called out, light and cheerful as ever. “I’m back! They had the flour I needed—oh, and I found those dried cherries you like!”

Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily. He stood, throwing on a plain linen shirt that still fit well enough, though he couldn’t help but feel hyperaware of how it clung just slightly more than he remembered. He made his way to the kitchen, forcing a casual smile as he leaned in the doorway to watch her unpack.

Evangeline was a vision, as always. Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, slightly windswept from the walk back. She wore one of her simple spring dresses, the fabric hugging her curves in a way that always made his stomach flip. Her cheeks were pink from the breeze, and her eyes lit up when she spotted him.

“There you are,” she said warmly, walking over to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re up late. I thought you’d already be in the garden or reading by now.”

He shrugged, his smile faltering slightly. “Just... taking my time this morning.”

Evangeline tilted her head, studying him the way only she could. She had a knack for sensing when something was wrong, even when he tried to hide it. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s nothing,” he said quickly, stepping past her to lean against the counter. He busied himself inspecting the contents of her basket—flour, herbs, fresh berries—anything to avoid her gaze. But Evangeline wasn’t one to let things go so easily.

“Sebastian,” she said softly, moving to stand beside him. “What’s wrong? And don’t say it’s nothing—I know you too well.”

Sebastian hesitated, the weight of her gaze pressing on him as she waited for an answer. His jaw tensed, the words tangled in his throat. He didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to seem ridiculous, but Evangeline’s gaze was so steady, so full of gentle concern, that it made it nearly impossible to brush her off entirely.

So he did the next best thing—he distracted her.

With a soft hum, he stepped forward, closing the small gap between them. Before she could press him further, his arms slipped around her waist, pulling her snug against him. His head dipped to the crook of her shoulder, his nose brushing against her neck in a way that made her breath hitch.

“Sebastian,” she said, her voice soft but curious. “What are you—?”

He nuzzled closer, his lips grazing her skin, and she immediately burst into laughter, her hands coming up to push lightly at his chest. “Stop that!” she giggled, squirming against him. “You know that tickles!”

“Do I?” he murmured innocently, his voice muffled against her skin. He pressed a light, teasing kiss just below her ear, which made her laugh harder.

“Yes, you do!” she managed through her laughter, twisting in his hold. She turned her head, her face still alight with amusement, and gently flicked his shoulder. "Release me!"

Sebastian grinned and nuzzled into her neck again, his voice low and teasing. “Not a chance."

Evangeline squirmed more, her laughter bubbling out in a way that always made his chest feel lighter. “Sebastian!” she giggled, half-protesting, half-delighted. “I mean it! Let me go before I—”

“Before you what?” he interrupted. “I don’t scare easily, love. You know that.”

Evangeline huffed and flicked his ear this time. “Before I refuse to share the bread with you, that’s what!”

Sebastian gasped, feigning shock as he finally released her. “Now, now, let’s not say things we can’t take back.”

Evangeline turned to face him, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she adjusted her skirts. “Then behave yourself,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him in a way that wasn’t remotely threatening.

Sebastian chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back against the counter, watching her return to unpacking her basket.

“Goodness me,” she said, rolling up her sleeves with purpose. “I’ve been waiting all week to try this recipe and the minute I try, you attack me. Are you going to help to make up for it, or are you just going to stand there being smug?”

Sebastian chuckled. “I suppose I can be convinced,” he said, moving to her side as she began gathering the rest of the tools she’d need.

For the next hour, the kitchen was filled with the quiet hum of their voices, the occasional clatter of mixing bowls, and Evangeline’s soft laughter.

Sebastian found himself relaxing, the familiar rhythm of their routine soothing the restless energy that had been gnawing at him earlier. He teased her gently when she smudged flour on her cheek, earning a playful swat in return, and when she handed him the dough to knead, she watched with an amused grin as he muttered about how much effort it took.

"Thought you were supposed to be a big, strong Auror, Sallow," she quipped, her lips twitching with amusement as she leaned against the counter, watching him wrestle with the dough.

“I am a big, strong Auror,” Sebastian shot back, narrowing his eyes at her. “This stuff is just... deceptively difficult. And sticky. Are you sure this is how it’s supposed to feel?”

Evangeline laughed, the sound light and musical as she stepped closer, her hands lightly dusted with flour. “You’re doing fine,” she reassured him, slipping in beside him. “But here—let me show you.”

She reached out, her smaller hands folding over his to guide his movements. The closeness made Sebastian pause, his earlier insecurities threatening to resurface as her warmth seeped into him. He glanced down at her, the way her long lashes cast soft shadows on her cheeks, her eyes focused intently on the dough. She looked so at ease, so utterly content, and it twisted something in his chest.

“See?” she said softly, her voice breaking through his thoughts. “Gentle pressure. You don’t have to fight it, Sebastian. It’s not a dark wizard.”

Sebastian let out a quiet huff of laughter, shaking his head as Evangeline’s hands guided his own, working the dough until it was smooth and elastic.

When they were finally done, Evangeline patted it into a neat ball and placed it into a bowl to proof, covering it with a clean cloth. “There,” she said, brushing her hands off on her apron.

Sebastian stepped back, wiping his flour-dusted hands on a towel. “So, what now, boss?” he asked, his tone playful.

Evangeline grinned, tilting her head toward the door. “You, my dear husband, are going to go sit on the porch and enjoy the sun while I tidy up. I’ll bring lunch out in a bit.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “You sure? I can help clean—”

“Nope,” she interrupted, shooing him toward the door with a wave of her hand. “Go. Relax. You’ve earned it after that battle with the dough.”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at his lips. “Alright, if you say so,"

With a glass of lemonade in hand, Sebastian made his way to the porch. The gentle warmth of the spring sun greeted him as he stepped outside, the wooden boards creaking softly beneath his feet. He sank into one of the chairs, letting out a contented sigh as he leaned back.

The village stretched out before him, quiet and serene, with the distant hum of life carrying on beyond their little corner of the world. The sun’s rays warmed his skin, the light breeze ruffling his hair. He took a sip of the lemonade, the tart sweetness refreshing as he let himself sink into the moment, his earlier insecurities and worries far away now, dulled by the laughter and warmth Evangeline always brought with her.

He was so lost in the peace that he didn’t hear her approach until she appeared in the doorway, balancing a tray with two plates and the pitcher of lemonade.

“Lunch is served,” she announced cheerfully, stepping out onto the porch.

Sebastian sat up as she set the tray down on the small table between them, his eyes flicking to his plate: a neatly arranged sandwich, a small side of crisps, and, of course, three cookies nestled together like a tempting afterthought. He masked a frown, the sight of them stirring the same pang of self-consciousness he’d been trying to forget all morning. So much for putting his extra fluff out of his mind—it was staring back at him in the form of three perfectly golden, innocent-looking biscuits.

Still, he didn’t say anything, brushing the thought aside as he focused on enjoying lunch with Evangeline. The sandwich was delicious, the crisp, fresh lettuce and savory meats hitting the spot as they chatted easily about her market trip and his plans to tend to the garden later.

When Evangeline finished her plate, she leaned back in her chair with a contented sigh, the light breeze catching her hair and carrying the faint scent of flour and sugar. Sebastian moved to gather their plates, standing to take them inside, but paused when Evangeline frowned, her gaze dropping to his untouched cookies.

“Are they that bad?” she asked, her brow furrowed as she leaned forward to inspect them. “I thought they turned out alright this time.”

Sebastian froze, feeling her question land with a weight he wasn’t ready to address. He hesitated for a fraction too long before shaking his head, mustering a smile. “No, not at all. They’re great. I’m just... not in the mood for something sweet right now.”

Evangeline’s frown deepened, hazel eyes narrowing as she tilted her head. “Not in the mood?” she repeated, her tone skeptical. “Sebastian, you’ve never turned down cookies. Not once. Not even when you had the flu.”

“I just... figured I’d save them for later,” he said quickly, avoiding her gaze as he balanced their plates on one arm. “Don’t want to ruin my appetite for dinner.”

That earned a soft laugh from her. “Dinner’s hours away, and we both know you could eat a Hippogriff and still have room for dessert.

Sebastian forced one of his trademark grins, the kind he knew could distract her from just about anything. “I promise I’ll eat them later,” he said, his tone light as he grabbed the empty plates and moved to the door. “No need to worry, love.”

But he should have known better. Evangeline was many things—kind, brilliant, a phenomenal baker—but above all else, she was stubborn.

“Sebastian,” she called after him, her voice sharp enough to stop him mid-step as he crossed the threshold back into the kitchen.

He sighed, shoulders sinking slightly as he turned to face her. She stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, her eyes narrowing as she studied him.

“What?” he asked, forcing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Evangeline huffed and stepped forward, plucked the plates from his hands with a deftness that left him blinking, and set them firmly on the counter.

“Alright,” she said, turning back to him and crossing her arms. Her gaze pinned him in place, sharp and unyielding. “Spill. What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on,” he replied quickly, too quickly. He reached up, scratching the back of his neck, a nervous habit she knew all too well. “I just told you—I’m not in the mood for something sweet right now. That’s all.”

“Sebastian.” Her voice softened, but the determination in her expression didn’t waver. She stepped closer, her hands uncrossing to rest lightly on her hips. “You can’t lie to me, you know that."

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as his gaze flicked away. He wanted to brush her off, to dodge her questions and let the moment pass. But the way she looked at him—so patient, so steady—made it impossible.

He let out a slow breath, forcing himself to meet her gaze. “It’s just… earlier, I tried on that green flannel shirt—the one you like—and it didn’t fit. It was too small."

Evangeline frowned, her brows knitting together. “So? Clothes shrink, Sebastian. Especially when someone—” she gestured pointedly at him “—refuses to follow proper washing instructions.”

He huffed a short laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It didn’t shrink,” he muttered, gesturing vaguely at himself. “It's me, Evie. I looked in the mirror, and I realized I’ve… gone all soft. I mean, look at me.” He motioned to his chest and stomach, his voice tinged with frustration.

Evangeline blinked at him, her expression shifting into something softer—warmer, with a teasing glint in her eyes that Sebastian immediately recognized. She stepped closer, her hand sliding from his arm to rest lightly against his chest, her lips curving into a small, amused smile.

“I do look at you,” she said softly. “I look at you all the time, Sebastian. And quite often, without clothes in the way.”

His ears burned instantly, a deep flush spreading across his face and down his neck. “Evie, please,” he groaned.

“What?” she asked innocently. “You act like I don’t see you—really see you—all the time. You’re my husband, silly.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he avoided her gaze.

Evangeline tilted her head, her lips twitching with barely contained amusement. “What exactly do you want me to say, Sebastian? Do you want me to say ‘Oh, darling, I’ve noticed you’ve gotten a bit squishier lately, but don’t worry—I still love you?’ Because that’s ridiculous.”

“So you have noticed then,” he said, his tone sharper than he intended. He crossed his arms, his jaw tightening as he met her gaze. “And you just didn’t tell me?”

Evangeline blinked at him again before laughing outright—a soft, melodic sound that filled the kitchen. “You’re unbelievable,” she said, shaking her head. “Sebastian, I didn’t say anything because there’s nothing to say! You’re acting like this is some monumental change when it’s not!

“It feels like it, is” he muttered, his arms dropping to his sides. “I’ve let myself go, Evangeline. And you’re just—what? Too nice to admit it?”

Her laughter faded, her brow furrowing slightly. “Too nice to admit it?” she repeated, her voice soft but incredulous. “Sebastian, do you really think I’d lie to you about something like this?”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Not lie,” he admitted quietly. “But maybe… spare my feelings.”

Evangeline sighed, her expression softening as she reached up to cradle his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing lightly over his cheekbones. "Listen to me. I’m not sparing your feelings. I love you. I have always loved you, and I always will."

He sighed, his hands coming up to loosely grip her wrists as her fingers remained warm against his skin. “But you’re not blind, Evie. This is... this is not the version of me you married."

Evangeline scoffed. “Do you really think the reason I married you had anything to do with how sharp your jawline was?”

“I mean... maybe not completely,” he muttered, his voice trailing off as his ears turned pink. “But it didn’t hurt.”

She sighed, a sound heavy with both exasperation and affection. She tilted her head back slightly, studying his stubborn expression. Clearly, her reassurances weren’t enough to break through that thick skull of his. If soft words and patience weren’t going to work, it was time to switch tactics.

Her gaze darkened slightly, a mischievous glint sparking to life as her lips curled into a sly grin. She slid her hands from his face to rest on his shoulders, her fingers trailing down to the broad expanse of his chest.

“Alright,” she murmured, her tone dropping into something low and silky. “You want me to be honest? I’ll be honest.”

Sebastian blinked, momentarily startled by the shift in her demeanor. “What are you—”

She cut him off, pressing a finger to his lips. “Hush. You’ve been doing a lot of talking. It’s my turn now.”

He swallowed hard, his ears burning as she stepped even closer, her body brushing against his, and tipped her head to look up at him through her lashes.

“Of course I’ve noticed the changes. How could I not? But Merlin help me, I love you like this,” she said, her voice smooth and steady, each word punctuated with intent. “Do you know why?”

He shook his head, utterly at a loss for words, his hands falling to rest uncertainly on her waist.

“Because,” she continued, “It tells me that you’re happy and comfortable and loved and well-fed—all the things you should be when you’re with someone who loves you. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

His throat tightened and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. “Evie...” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

“I love you with all my heart, and yes, I love the way you look,” her voice was soft but steady, her hazel eyes locked onto his. Her hands trailed down to rest against his chest, her fingertips brushing over the slight softness he’d been agonizing over. “You're the most incredible man I’ve ever met. You’ve got these strong arms I adore, shoulders that make me weak in the knees, and those deliciously thick thighs I can't get enough of. And now there's just more of you for me to love."

Sebastian’s face burned a deeper shade of crimson, his ears hot with embarrassment. “Evie,” he mumbled, his voice caught between a groan and a laugh.

"Sebastian," she said firmly, gripping at his shirt now. "You have always been handsome, but now? Now you’re downright dangerous.” Her hand moved to his stomach, giving it a light pat.

Sebastian stared at her, completely floored. Her words hung in the air between them, weaving through his spiraling thoughts and silencing them one by one. The heat from his ears had spread down to his chest now, but the lingering twinges of doubt started to fade, smothered by the mischievous glint in her eyes and the way her hands lingered on him like he was the only man in the world.

“Dangerous, am I?” he murmured, his voice low, his lips twitching into something dangerously close to a smirk.

Evangeline’s grin widened, a spark of triumph lighting her expression. “Oh, absolutely,” she said, her fingers curling into his shirt as she tugged him closer. “You’re entirely too good-looking for your own good—and mine.”

Sebastian’s lips twitched, but as her words settled over him, something stirred in the back of his mind. Hang on a minute...

He replayed moment after moment from the past few months. The way her hands lingered just a bit longer when they curled up on the couch together. How she’d started sneaking up behind him in the mornings just to wrap her arms around his waist. How she’d tug him back into bed, her lips pressed against his neck as she muttered some excuse about not wanting to let him go yet.

She had been insatiable—more so than usual.

He’d chalked it up to the honeymoon phase lingering well past its expiration date, or maybe the warmer weather putting her in an unusually good mood. But now? Now, standing here with her hands sliding over him like she wanted to memorize every inch of his body, it all clicked.

His lips curled into a slow, wolfish grin, the confidence that had been knocked loose earlier returning in full force. “You have been extra fond of me lately, huh?” he teased, his voice dropping into that low, dangerous register that always made her cheeks flush.

Evangeline arched an eyebrow, unbothered by his sudden shift in demeanor. “Maybe,” she replied coyly.

Sebastian chuckled, the sound deep and rich as his hands moved to her waist, pulling her flush against him. “I suppose I should’ve known,” he murmured, his eyes roaming her face before locking onto hers. “All those extra little touches, the way you’ve been looking at me... You’re absolutely relentless, you know that?”

“And you’re just figuring this out now?” she teased, her smirk widening.

He shook his head, his grin growing wider as he tilted her chin up with one hand, his thumb brushing over her jawline. “I don’t think I’m the dangerous one here, Evie. You’ve been plotting this, haven’t you?”

She laughed softly, the sound warm and unrepentant. “I have no idea what you're talking about."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes, his grin never faltering. “Oh, you definitely know what I’m talking about,” he murmured, his voice dipping even lower, sending a shiver down her spine. “You’ve been playing the long game, haven’t you? Buttering me up—literally and figuratively—until I couldn’t resist you.”

Evangeline’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, but her smirk didn’t waver. “If by ‘buttering you up’ you mean showing my husband how much I love him, then yes, guilty as charged,” she replied, tilting her head smugly. “And judging by the way you’ve been letting me drag you back to bed at all hours, I’d say you haven’t exactly been resisting.”

Sebastian laughed, the sound low and full of warmth as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. “I don’t think anyone could resist you, Evie."

Evangeline laughed, her hands tangling in his hair as she gazed up at him. “Good,” she said, her tone light and playful. “I’d hate to think I was losing my touch.”

Sebastian smirked, his hands settling on her hips as he tilted his head down, their foreheads almost touching. “Losing your touch? Not possible,” he murmured, his voice soft but steady. “If anything, you’ve only gotten better at wrapping me around your finger.”

She grinned, leaning in to press a quick, teasing kiss to his lips before pulling back. “Exactly as planned,” she quipped, her hands sliding down to rest on his chest again. Her expression softened as her thumbs brushed over the fabric of his shirt. “But seriously, Sebastian, as much as I love you like this—and I do—if it really does bother you, if you really want to change something, just tell me.” Her lips curled into a small, teasing smile as she added, “I can always go a little easier on you, you know.”

He raised an eyebrow, his grin turning wry. “Go easier on me? What does that even mean?”

Evangeline laughed again, her fingers toying with the edge of his shirt. “It means I won’t bake as many pastries,” she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Or at least I’ll stop making so many batches of your favorites.

Sebastian scoffed, though his lips twitched with amusement. “You make it sound like I have no self-control,” he said, his tone laced with indignation.

Evangeline arched an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Do you want me to list the number of times I’ve caught you sneaking into the kitchen at midnight? Because I’ve been keeping track, and let’s just say the numbers don’t lie.”

His ears flushed pink, but he shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Midnight snacks are perfectly reasonable. I’m a growing man, after all.”

“Growing where, exactly?” she teased, her grin widening as she tapped a finger lightly against his stomach.

He groaned, though a laugh escaped him despite himself. “You’re merciless,” he muttered.

“Only because I love you,” she replied, her tone softening as she slid her hands back up to his chest. “But seriously, Sebastian, we’ll figure it out. After all, we can’t have you ruining all your shirts, can we?"

Sebastian chuckled, the sound low and warm as he shook his head. “Merlin forbid I ruin all my shirts,” he said, his tone dripping with mock seriousness. “What would I even wear then?”

“Oh, I’m sure we could come up with something,” Evangeline replied, her grin widening as she tugged playfully at the hem of his shirt. “Or nothing at all. That’s always an option.”

Sebastian's grin turned positively wolfish. “Nothing at all, huh?” he murmured, his voice dropping into that low, dangerous register that made Evangeline’s cheeks flush. He took a small step closer, effectively pinning her between him and the counter. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Evangeline tilted her head, pretending to consider it. "We would have to give it a try first... for science."

"No time like the present," he murmured, leaning in until his lips brushed against the shell of her ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down her spine. “I’m fully committed to advancing scientific discovery, after all.”

Evangeline laughed softly, curling her fingers into the fabric of his shirt. “Well, I’d hate to stand in the way of progress,” she teased, looking up at him through her lashes. “Who am I to deny such noble pursuits?”

Sebastian’s grin widened. “That’s the spirit,” he murmured. “Let’s not waste a single moment, then.”

Before she could respond, his arms slipped under her, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. Evangeline let out a surprised laugh, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, her laughter vibrating against him. The sound alone was enough to make his chest swell with affection, and the way she leaned into him, utterly unguarded, set his pulse pounding.

Evangeline’s lips brushed against the shell of his ear as he carried her toward the bedroom, her voice a teasing murmur that made his blood hum. She didn’t hold back—her words playful, wicked, and laced with affection. Every syllable sent heat pooling low in his stomach, her tone the perfect mix of mischief and adoration.

The bread, meanwhile, sat forgotten on the counter, the plans for the afternoon abandoned, and the lingering doubts that had gnawed at him all morning slipped away, irrelevant in the face of the one truth that mattered most: Evangeline adored him, every inch of him.

[songbirdseung]

good graces / yang jungwon

where you are yang jungwon's first girlfriend, leading you to constantly remind him on the things he should do and should not do. reminding him to stay in your good graces. Boy it's not that complicated genre fluff, est. relationship, new relationship, clueless wonie

yang jungwon had always been calm, composed, and confident when it came to leading his group or making decisions, but being in a relationship? that was entirely new territory for him. you, his first girlfriend, had quickly realized that while jungwon was sweet and kind, he was very inexperienced. it didn’t take long before you found yourself gently reminding him about the little things he should or shouldn’t do, ensuring he stayed on track to be the best boyfriend he could be.

“okay, jungwon, remember—when we’re out, no hugging every single person you meet!” you said, poking his cheek playfully as the two of you walked hand in hand through the park. jungwon chuckled, his eyes squinting in that adorable way you loved.

“but i’m just being friendly!” he protested, grinning at you. “it’s not like i’m—”

“too friendly,” you interrupted with a teasing smile. “there’s friendly, and then there’s you giving a bear hug to every girl we meet.”

jungwon blinked, clearly realizing he might have been overdoing it a little. “oh… was that bad?”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “it’s not bad, wonnie, it’s just… some people might misunderstand, and i’m pretty sure i don’t want to fight off every girl in the neighborhood because they think you’re available.”

he nodded, a sheepish smile appearing on his face. “got it. no more bear hugs.”

but despite the little reminders, jungwon was still learning. one time, the two of you were sitting at a cafe, enjoying a cozy date when a group of girls from his class spotted him. jungwon, ever the polite and friendly guy, waved them over. you watched with a mixture of amusement and mild concern as he casually engaged in conversation with them, all while you sat quietly beside him.

“jungwon…” you muttered under your breath as one of the girls leaned a little too close to him, laughing at something he said. he glanced at you, clueless as always, before turning back to the girls.

“oh, right! this is my girlfriend, yn!” jungwon suddenly introduced you, making the girls blink in surprise.

“girlfriend?” one of them echoed, clearly taken aback. you could see the realization hit jungwon like a ton of bricks as he finally noticed the tension in the air.

“um… we should get going, right?” he said quickly, standing up and grabbing your hand.

as soon as you left the cafe, jungwon sighed and looked at you apologetically. “did i mess up again?”

“just a little,” you teased, squeezing his hand. “you’ll get the hang of it eventually. i mean, you don’t have to announce that i’m your girlfriend every time. just maybe don’t give them a reason to wonder, okay?”

jungwon smiled bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. “i’ll try harder. i promise.”

there were also cute, innocent moments where jungwon was just trying too hard to be the perfect boyfriend. like the time he spent three hours trying to bake you cookies because he wanted to surprise you. when you arrived at his dorm, the kitchen was a disaster zone—flour everywhere, chocolate smears on the counter, and jungwon covered in what you could only assume was a mix of cookie dough and regret.

“surprise?” he said, holding up a plate of oddly shaped cookies.

you burst into laughter, unable to contain it. “oh my god, what happened here?”

jungwon pouted, looking down at his ‘masterpiece.’ “i just wanted to do something nice for you… but i think i need more practice.”

you took one of the cookies, biting into it despite its appearance. “hmm, not bad,” you said, trying to stifle a laugh. “but maybe next time, let’s try baking together?”

“deal,” jungwon agreed, his face brightening.

despite his little mishaps, you couldn’t help but find them endearing. it wasn’t about jungwon being perfect, but about how hard he tried. even when he messed up, he was always eager to learn, always wanting to make you happy.

one night, after a long day, you both collapsed onto his couch, exhausted but content. jungwon snuggled up next to you, resting his head on your shoulder.

“thanks for being patient with me,” he murmured softly. “i know i still have a lot to learn.”

you smiled, running your fingers through his hair. “you’re doing great, wonnie. and besides, it’s kinda fun teaching you.”

“uh, yn?” he asked hesitantly, eyes shifting from you to the screen and back again.

“yeah?” you replied, not really paying attention, focused on the movie.

“so… am i supposed to put my arm around you now? or is that only in the movies?” he whispered, clearly overthinking the whole situation.

you couldn’t help but giggle, loving how clueless he was. “you don’t have to, jungwon, but you can if you want.”

his cheeks flushed pink as he slowly, awkwardly draped his arm over your shoulders, pulling you close. “how’s this? is this okay?”

“perfect,” you murmured, snuggling into him. despite his nervousness, he let out a relieved sigh, clearly pleased that he’d managed to get it right.

another memorable moment happened when jungwon tried to impress you with his "boyfriend skills" at an arcade. you’d suggested going for a fun day out, and jungwon, being the competitive person he is, immediately decided he was going to win you something from the claw machine.

“watch this,” he said confidently, inserting the coins and cracking his knuckles. “i’m gonna win you that teddy bear.”

you watched with an amused smile as he attempted—and failed—three times in a row. the claw kept slipping off the bear, and jungwon’s face grew more and more determined each time. after his fifth try, you couldn’t help but tease him.

“so… are you winning it for me today or should we come back next week?” you grinned.

jungwon shot you a playful glare but couldn’t hide his smile. “i’ll get it, just you wait.”

he finally managed to hook the bear on the sixth try, and he turned to you with a proud smile, holding the prize up triumphantly. “see? i told you i’d win it!”

you clapped, pretending to be overjoyed. “wow, my hero! six times the charm, huh?”

he rolled his eyes but handed you the bear with a grin. “hey, i still won it, didn’t i?”

but despite all his adorable efforts to be the perfect boyfriend, jungwon still found himself in hot water from time to time—usually because he was just a bit too friendly. like the time you both went to a classmate’s party, and one of his female classmates kept chatting him up. jungwon, being the polite guy he was, didn’t think much of it, but you noticed the girl was a little too eager to be close to him.

“jungwon,” you said under your breath, tugging at his sleeve. “maybe tone it down a little?”

he blinked at you in confusion. “tone what down?”

“you’re being too nice again,” you replied, nodding toward the girl, who was still lingering nearby.

jungwon’s eyes widened in realization. “oh… i didn’t even notice.” he then wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “sorry, i’ll be more careful.”

you couldn’t stay mad at him. it wasn’t like he meant to do it—he just had a natural charm that made people gravitate toward him, even when he wasn’t trying.

there was another time when jungwon tried to surprise you with a cute text, but it didn’t exactly go as planned. it was your first anniversary as a couple, and you were expecting something sweet from him. instead, you received a message that made you burst out laughing:

jungwon: "happy first adversary, baby!"

you quickly texted him back: "uh, wonnie… you mean anniversary?"

his response came quickly, followed by a series of embarrassed emojis: "omg, i meant anniversary. ignore that please."

when you met him later that day, you couldn’t resist teasing him about it. “adversary, huh? are we enemies now?”

jungwon groaned, his cheeks bright red as he buried his face in his hands. “please don’t bring that up again. i was nervous!”

you grinned, patting his head. “don’t worry, it was cute. i love my ‘adversary.’”

“stop it,” he whined, but the smile on his face told you he wasn’t really upset.

and of course, there were all the little moments where jungwon was simply too clueless for his own good. like the time he tried to surprise you by cooking dinner but ended up setting off the smoke alarm instead.

you’d rushed over to his dorm when you received a panicked call from him, only to find jungwon waving a towel at the smoke alarm, coughing and laughing at himself. “so… maybe cooking’s not my thing,” he admitted sheepishly as you opened the windows to let out the smoke.

“you think?” you teased, unable to stop giggling.

he pouted, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. “hey, at least i tried. it’s the thought that counts, right?”

you shook your head, wrapping your arms around him. “yes, it is. but maybe next time, let’s just order takeout.”

jungwon let out a relieved laugh, hugging you back tightly. “deal. no more setting off alarms.”

as your relationship with jungwon continued, it became clear that he was growing more comfortable with the dynamics of being a boyfriend, though the cute little slip-ups kept happening. but that was part of the charm—watching him learn, adapt, and still manage to mess up in the most endearing ways.

one weekend, you and jungwon had plans for a picnic date in the park. it was a sunny day, and he was eager to show off his newfound cooking skills after the infamous smoke alarm incident. he had insisted on preparing all the food himself, and although you were a little skeptical, you were excited to see what he came up with.

you arrived at the park, and jungwon was already setting up the picnic blanket under a big oak tree, the basket of food placed neatly in the center. you smiled as you walked over, admiring how cute and eager he looked.

“hey, chef wonnie!” you called out, teasing him a little. “what did you cook up this time? no fire alarms, i hope.”

jungwon grinned, standing up to greet you with a quick hug. “no fire alarms this time, i promise. i made sandwiches… and something special.”

you raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “something special?”

he opened the basket, pulling out a small container and handing it to you. “open it.”

you took the container, curious, and popped the lid open to reveal… a heart-shaped rice ball. you blinked, surprised by how cute it was.

“you made this?” you asked, looking at him with wide eyes.

jungwon scratched the back of his neck, a little shy. “yeah. i thought it’d be cute, you know… since you’re always saying i should do more romantic stuff.”

you couldn’t help but laugh softly, touched by the effort he’d put in. “it’s adorable, jungwon. i love it.”

“really?” his eyes lit up, clearly relieved. “i wasn’t sure if it was too cheesy.”

“it’s cheesy, but in the best way possible,” you assured him, leaning over to give him a peck on the cheek. “you’re getting better at this boyfriend thing.”

he puffed out his chest proudly. “well, i do have the best teacher.”

the two of you sat down on the blanket, enjoying the food and each other’s company. it was peaceful, with the sun shining and a light breeze rustling the trees. you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so content.

after a while, jungwon pulled out his phone and started playing some music, soft and relaxing. you leaned your head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

“hey,” jungwon suddenly said, breaking the comfortable silence.

“yeah?” you replied, tilting your head up to look at him.

he hesitated for a second, then said, “i’ve been thinking… i wanna be better at this.”

“better at what?”

“you know, being your boyfriend,” he admitted, his voice soft but serious. “i know i mess up a lot, and i’m still figuring things out, but i really want to make you happy.”

your heart melted at his words. “jungwon, you’re already doing an amazing job. you don’t have to be perfect.”

“i know, but…” he trailed off, looking down at you with those wide, sincere eyes. “i love you, and i want to keep getting better for you.”

you smiled, your heart swelling with affection. “i love you too, jungwon. and honestly, the fact that you’re trying so hard is more than enough for me.”

jungwon’s face softened, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “i’ll keep trying, okay? for you.”

“and i’ll keep helping you,” you teased, poking his side.

he laughed, grabbing your hand and holding it tightly. “deal.”

later that day, as you walked home together, hand in hand, jungwon spotted a couple walking in front of you. the guy wrapped his arm around the girl’s waist, pulling her closer, and you could practically see the gears turning in jungwon’s head.

without saying a word, he mimicked the couple, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in a little awkwardly. you chuckled, glancing up at him.

“what are you doing?” you asked, amused.

“being a good boyfriend,” he replied with a determined look on his face, though you could see the shy smile tugging at his lips.

you smiled, leaning into him. “you’re such a dork.”

“but i’m your dork,” he shot back, a playful glint in his eyes.

you laughed, shaking your head. “can’t argue with that.”

as you continued walking, jungwon suddenly stopped, pulling you to a halt too. you looked at him, confused.

“what’s up?” you asked.

he looked down at you, a hint of nervousness in his expression. “i… i wanna say it.”

“say what?”

“i love you,” he said quietly, his voice soft but full of sincerity. “i don’t think i say it enough, and i want you to know.”

your heart fluttered at his words. “i love you too, jungwon.”

he smiled, looking relieved, and pulled you into a tight hug. you stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world around you fading away. it was just you and him, and in that moment, everything felt right.

“you’re doing great, jungwon,” you whispered into his shoulder. “you really are.”

he chuckled, his breath tickling your ear. “thanks… i’m learning from the best.”

you pulled back slightly to look at him, grinning. “yeah, you are.”

he laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “i’ll keep getting better,” he promised.

“i know you will,” you replied, your heart full of warmth.

and as you walked the rest of the way home, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but think that even though jungwon was still new to this whole relationship thing, he was already perfect in your eyes.

[sugarcreambiteskingdom]

Excuse me can I have poly relationship fic about the 5 beast cookies with male!reader living together please

Star Anon ⭐

Cream Oreo Cookie: One word...CHAOS

Shadow Milk Cookie:

He is the type of roommate who always gets everyone annoyed by there endless story and tends to do pranks on you and everyone in the palace

He will always will annoy everyone with his endless puns

He will always drag everyone to watch his puppet shows

And since your male...you alongside Burning Spice Cookie and Silent Salt Cookie are his BEST TARGETS for shenanigans like again...pranking but more extreme...as in it can hurt someone...but your a mild exception since your just a regular cookie

He will still prank you just to annoy you from time to time by hiding your items or swapping your food with liquid or liquid with solid foods

If your the first one to sleep he will definitely write on your face...your lucky if it wasn't permanent

Mystic Flour Cookie:

She is the "Parental" Cookie in the group and made sure everyone is in line and doesn't get too cut up with there antics

She tends to be more quiet but once she's angry everyone will shut up

She doesn't talk that much unless it was important or if it's just you she needs to talk to...

She's the type of parent who's patient but once that patient was emptied then all hell will break lose

And you alongside Silent Salt Cookie are the only ones who gets to calm her down and the only Male Cookie's she can tolerate unlike the other 2...

Burning Spice Cookie:

SPAR!!!!

He will always ask you to spar with him every single day and if you say "No" you can't because it's either Spar with him or he will play hide and seek with you and his ALWAYS the seeker...if you get caught your up for a very hard punch to the shoulder and you better endure it or walk with a broken arm if you can

His just doing this for your own good...you have to be STRONG and so you'll learn how to protect yourself more easily from enemies

Though he will give you some days off since your dough is still fragile and you still need rest after all...

Eternal Sugar Cookie:

Your there errand boy...

There too lazy to do anything okay? Stop complaining and just do what she tells you to do

Your there to help them do the things they're too lazy to do which is to get there cloud bed to be pushed around...or if she wants a drink or need to tell the other beasts something

It annoys you and whenever you tell them "No" they will pout and whine which won't stop since you've tried that and it never worked Unfortunately so...yikes...

They only lets you into his room and not the others because they trust you more than the others if they're quite honest

Although because of your work they do tell you some secrets from here about repay you by telling everything and anything and even...the other 4 Beasts secrets...

Silent Salt Cookie:

He also Spar with you at times but not much like Burning Spice Cookie

He only mostly play chess with you or any bored games that doesn't require any needed voice either that or he'll just use sign language to talk to you unless you know them

He also loves to collect weapons and show them off to you

He even lend you one but you just have to make sure to not let the other Beasts Cookie's knows t was him who gifted it to you if not he will never hear the end of it from his fellow beasts

He would at times show you his techniques of sharpening your tools more quickly and clean

And he will also show you how he make his weapons(A/N: I Headcannon this Cookie to be his own smithy)

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Wife Girlfriend Training (Tengen x Black!Self-Insert!reader 18+ One Shot) [COMMISSION FILL]

Synopsis: When Tengen puts in a big order to your bakery and you're short-staffed, you deliver it yourself only to find Uzui home alone. To repay you for the trip, he invites you in for dinner where things take a major turn when he finally admits his and his wives’ attraction to you. You’ve never been in a poly relationship before, so Tengen gives you an introduction to what it would be like to be his 4th girl...including some “training” of his own.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+; Self-Insert!Reader; Plus-Sized!Reader; Poly Relationship; Sister Wives; Highkey Flirting; Strangers to Lovers; Daddy Kink; Spanking; Tengen Has A Big Dick; Multiple Positions; Oral (Giving & Receiving); Deepthroating; Mutual Masturbation; Big Dick Training; Dirty Talk; Choking; Dom!Tengen/sub!Reader; mild BDSM; Creampie; Reader Cums 3x

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you! 

Writer’s Note: My very first Tengen fic!! I love me ALL of him & his big ass arms. I’ve thought about him bending me over MANY TIMES. His wives too. We all married. Anyways, a special thank you as always to @curiouscutie143 aka Tengen’s 5th wife (I’m his 4th) for trusting me to bring her fantasies to life & paying me to do it ❤️ I hope you all enjoy! -Jazz

**********

When the bell hanging above the door to your bakery tinkles, you look up so fast that you nearly get whiplash. 

You expect to see a familiar, tall hunk with braided, silver locks or one of his gorgeous, black-haired beauties in the doorway of your business place, but your heart droops in disappointment when all you see is an old woman with her support dog—a regular. Not the regulars you want to see. 

The small, white-haired woman waves at you and you wave back, putting a smile on your face. As she takes a seat at her regular booth, one of your employees goes to take her order.

You busy yourself cleaning off the counters and display cases of your baked goods when your friend and coworker comes walking out of the kitchen doors with a tray of cookies. “Got the batch of chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin ready for you.”

She sets the tray down and wipes her hands off on her apron. You’re wearing your own which is coated in flour from this morning’s batch of homemade cake batter that you stored in the freezer for future cake orders. “Thank you. I just need to decorate them now.” With a huff and an “oof”, you bend down to get some colored frosting out of the mini freezer under the counter. 

You work quickly, squeezing tiny designs and flowers on the cookies in time for the lunch rush. Right now, it is the morning, so the usual customers you receive are just for coffee. While you work, your friend fills in an online order for a pastry and a lavender latte. You can tell from the way she’s looking at you from the corner of your eye that she’s about to make a joke. 

“What, your boyfriend ain’t visit you yet?” She asks, looking at the front door. “Will he bring your girlfriends too?” You turn around and point the frost baster at her. She jumps back, laughing. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you growl. “Now stop saying that if you value your clothes.” 

You abruptly turn around and continue your work, ignoring the way your body hums at the thought of your anticipated visitors. “Well, he sure seems to think so,” your friend giggles as she places the flaky pastry in a paper bag. “Every time he’s in here, he always looks like he wants to take you home with his girls, rip off your apron, and—“ 

The sound of the bell on your door ringing, fortunately, stops her, but it isn’t your so-called “boyfriend” or “girlfriends”. It’s just a businessman coming in for his morning coffee. You sigh and shoot a sharp look at your knowing friend who skips off to make a latte. You try to distract yourself from your thoughts by working, but your fingers feel numb and you can’t seem to focus so much on the cookies. 

All because of that damn Hashira hunk and his three beautiful wives. Dammit. You almost wish Tengen Uzui never entered your bakery five months ago, but then again, it’s brought in a lot of business. To have a popular Demon Slayer Corp and his crew come in to indulge in your bakery has upped your sales and given you new customers. Tengen is one of them. He and his wives have become regulars of yours since Tengen stumbled into your bakery all those months ago. 

And he literally stumbled. One of his wives, with her twinkling indigo eyes and shoulder-length black locks, dragged him into your bakery. Her blue kimono was short enough to draw eyes to her thighs and impressive rack. “In here, in here, Tengen-sama!” She excitedly shouted. “Look-it! They have the cutest cakes here!” 

You had turned around with a welcoming smile, expecting it to be a dad and his daughter, but you were mistaken when you caught the glimpse of the gorgeous woman and her equally gorgeous man getting yanked on by the arm. 

He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen in your life. About six-foot-something, he towered over Suma and was built like a goddamn tank. Your eyes didn’t know what to land and stay on. His silver locks of hair? His handsome face? His gorgeous crimson eye? His charming smile? His big ass arms? 

He was big in all of the right places, his body impressively huge and toned, and seemed to make your bakery look like a dollhouse. An eyepatch adorned with three crystals covered his right eye while the other looked right at you from behind the counter. The smile that crossed his lips nearly made you shiver in delight. 

Behind him were his two other wives, one with orange and black hair and a red kimono—Maiko—and one with long black hair tied into a ponytail, violet eyes, and an endearing mole on her right cheek—Hinatsuru. Each wife was beautiful, toned, and had racks you unconsciously stared at. Quickly, you looked away, feeling like a pervert. You hated being bi sometimes. Why must God punish you with hot guys and girls while at work? 

“Suma, c’mon now, really!” Maiko scoffed, her hands on her hips and a scowl on her pretty face. “You can’t just run off with Tengen-sama like that! You know how he feels about us getting separated!” 

Suma pouted, playing with her black locks. “But I just wanted to look at the cakes,” she murmured, staring longingly at the display of cakes and tarts by you at the front desk. Tengen chuckled, the deep rumble of his chuckle making your insides turn. “I think that she can explain more about ‘em to you, darling,” he gently said. “Hello, miss. Is this your bakery?” 

All three of his wives looked at you as if they just realized you were standing there. They must have because Hinatsuru immediately gasps, horrified. “Oh, miss, we’re so sorry! We didn’t even notice you there!” She bowed respectfully. “Please forgive us for our rudeness.” 

Maiko did the same and forced Suma to bend forward as well in an apologetic bow. Tengen did the same with ease. “No, no, it’s fine!” You protested, suddenly sweating under your apron and despite the AC pumping cool air around you. “You were too focused on the cakes and I don’t blame you. I made them last night if you four would like a sample.” 

Suma popped up and gasped like an excited kid. “Really?! Oh, my gosh, thank you so, so much, Ms…er….” She stopped and squinted curiously at you, looking around your body for a name tag. Maiko rolled her eyes while Hinatmusu giggled into her dainty hand. 

“V,” you answered. “I’m the owner of this bakery.” Tengen laughed at his wife and offered his big hand across the counter. “Tengen Uzui, 8th Demon Slayer Corp member,” he said in his deep, luscious voice. “Pleasure to meet you. These are my wives, Suma, Maiko, and Hinatsuru.” 

“Please, just call me Hina,” Hinatsuru replied with a kind smile that made you think of blossoming flowers. Suma gave you a cute wave while Maiko seemed to not know what to do and just blushed despite her standoffish attitude. You took Tengen’s hand and shook it, noticing the rings adorning his fingers and the bracelets jingling against his wrist. He was so…flashy. 

You were so focused on his jewelry that you almost missed that he said “wives” and “eighth Demon Corp member”. You kept a smile on your face as you shook his hand, ignoring the way your hand tingled as his calloused fingers clasped your smaller palm. But inside, you were gobsmacked. This was THE Tengen Uzui, one of the most prominent demon slayers in all the land. And here he was in your tiny bakery with his three gorgeous ass wives! 

“V-Very nice to meet you,” you damn near exhaled. Uzui seemed to realize the power he had on you from the simple touch because his kind smile turned into a flirty smirk. “This is a cute lil’ place you got here,” he said as he stuck his hand in his pocket that was once in yours. “We couldn’t help but come in to check out what you had, right, ladies?” 

“Mmm-hmm!” Suma answered with an eager nod. “We love all kinds of sweets, especially Maiko! She loves eating cakes and cookies late at night when she thinks no one is paying attention.” 

Maiko gaped at her sister-wife, flames nearly coming out of her reddened face. “Hey!” She barked. “That’s not true!” Uzui wagged a finger at her, tutting. “Lying is a sin, don’t you know, my Maiko?” He teasingly asked in that silky voice. You melted just like Maiko did, a slight whimper exciting her lips at the pet name. 

Hinatsuru suddenly appeared at the counter, that kind, genuine smile still on her lovely face. “You mustn’t mind us,” she giggled. “We have our different personalities, but we really do work great as a team. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.” She turned to look at them, an adoring look in her eyes. 

It was a look that you were envious of. You’ve never interacted with a poly couple before, but you knew right then that it was something you’d never knock until you experienced it firsthand for yourself. Seeing all of the love in Hinatsuru’s eyes made you want to try it out for yourself to see if you, too, could experience that kind of feeling. 

But alas: these are just fantasies right now. Your partners are your business and baking right now. You’re so dedicated to your relationship and passion that you wake up at the ass crack of dawn to bake and you don’t leave until almost eleven at night sometimes because you’re busy preparing for events and business hours. It becomes tiring, yes, but it’s all worth it. You love your little bakery to death and you want to see it continue to blossom like you know it can. 

So, like any good baker and businesswoman, you gave Uzui and his wives a sample of your cakes: fruit tart with glazed fruit and lemon custard, vanilla coconut with coconut flakes, tiramisu, and chocolate mousse with dark chocolate powder dusting the top. You watched joyously as the four chomped down on your delicacies, each one wearing expressions of wonder and satisfaction. 

Suma made a very lewd-sounding moan as she chomped down on the chocolate cake, frosting all over her mouth. “Wow!” She sighed. “These are absolutely amazing! And you baked all of these yourself?” 

You flushed at the twinkle in her eyes. ”Yeah,” you bashfully replied. “I’m so glad you like them.” You turned to Uzui who swallowed his sample in one gulp and rubbed his toned stomach. “Oh, more than like, Ms. V,” he said. “We love these little cakes. And this little place of yours is so cute and…flashy.” He looked around the quaint and small bakery, smiling fondly. “It’s adorable! How long have you had it for?” 

He seemed so interested in this that you almost didn't know what to say. It had been forever since someone actually seemed like they wanted to know all about you without having ulterior motives aka wanting to sleep with you. Another reason why you barely dated. You nervously laughed, taken aback by his genuine interest. “About two years now since I got my license, but I’ve been baking literally my entire life.” 

Uzui whistled, looking like he approved of this information. “That takes so much skill!” He praised, leaning against the counter with one huge arm slung across it. “So you’re a businesswoman, a skilled baker, and beautiful? I’m sure you’ve got the fellas linin’ up outside your door.” 

The smile that crossed his lips was flirtatious and playful. It would turn you off if it came from some other guy you barely know, but there was something about him that made you not mind. And it had nothing to do with his status. Uzui came off to you like he was a big flirt, yes, but also very laid back and easy-going. It relaxed you even when you barely knew anything about him. He had a very blasé attitude to him that didn’t match his flash jewelry and painted fingernails that you were absolutely attracted to, picturing them somewhere on your body. You understood then why his wives were so fond of him. 

“You mustn’t embarrass her, Tengen-sama!” Hina critically said, grabbing Uzui’s arm. “Pardon me for saying so, but you are very beautiful, Ms. Y/N.” A pink blush spread across her cheeks, making her look even more gorgeous. You were breathless, unable to speak. A woman as gorgeous as her complimenting your looks was like an award in gold. “Isn’t she?!” Suma squealed. “I was staring at her the whole time wondering how she got her hair like that! Oh, and her skin is so pretty and glowy! Don’t you think so, Maiko?” 

All of you turned to Maiko who was busy nibbling on her tiramisu. She blushed at the eyes on her and tucked into herself. ”I-I guess,” she mumbled and continued eating. Uzui smirked at you, a playful twinkle in his eye. “She’s a shy girl,” he whispered. “Don’t let her turn ya off.” 

You didn’t tell either of them that you were turned on beyond belief. Fortunately, their desire to put in an order made you forget all about how much you were throbbing and how weak in the knees you felt. Uzui boastfully ordered a dozen cakes for his wives and his team, resulting in you filling two boxes with twelve of your cakes each. Uzui carried the two boxes and gave you a thankful smile as he and Hina exited your bakery. 

Suma practically skipped after them. “Thank you for the cakes!” She called as she waved from the door. Maiko stayed behind and passed you a crisp $100 bill. “From Tengen-sama,” she explained. “He said keep the change.” She paused, her face ablaze. “A-and you do have…really pretty hair,” she muttered. She didn’t stick around long enough to wait for you to thank her. 

You watched her go, somehow already missing their presence and hoping to see them again. They brought a light to your bakery the way no other customer has. But as you were processing the money, the door opened again, and in walked Uzui. “Oh, did you forget something?” you curiously ask, cocking your head to the side. 

He didn’t answer you as he strode up to you in five long strides, his boots thudding across the floor. Your heart leaped at his strange frown, wondering what could be wrong. Did he not like the cakes after all? He suddenly threw an elbow over the counter and leaned in like he was about to tell you a secret. “You’ve got a card or somethin’?” he whispered. Because I have a whole lot of sweet-toothed people who would love to come here for their fix.” He smirked at you, goofily so. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic personality. Reaching down where the cash register was, you plucked a business card from beside it and handed it to Uzui. He gave you a smile and a wink as he pocketed your card. “It was nice meeting you, V,” he said. “We’ll be back.” 

And that they were back. The Hashira and his three wives came back again and again, buying sugary, caffeinated drinks and sweets. They came mostly on the weekends and sometimes during the week on random, but like clockwork, they were here. Uzui never came alone, always having his girls with him and spending all kinds of coin on whatever they wanted. 

As time passed, you found yourself looking forward to them showing up. You enjoyed their presence and they seemed to make your little bakery that much brighter and sweeter when they were here. It didn’t take long for your days to be filled with daydreams and nights to be haunted by fantasies of being with them as intimately as they are with each other—holding hands, touching lips, whispering sweet nothings… 

Especially with Uzui. How could you not? The man is a walking wet dream! Every time he slid you some game and flirted with you so openly in front of the girls and in private, you could feel yourself folding. But how are his wives so okay with him flirting with another woman in front of them? Is this just their relationship? Did you really want to understand? Maybe…join them? 

‘No, you horny bitch,’ you firmly think to yourself as you finish frosting the cookies. ‘No dating right now. Just business. Keep your head on straight.’

No matter how much Uzui’s flirting turns you on and piques your curiosity. Besides, how can he possibly be interested in you? He already has three women on his arm that would put any supermodel to shame. With his status and looks, he couldn’t possibly want you. 

You manage to distract yourself with some customers for a while until you get a particular call that you are not expecting. You answer it as normal, thinking it’s just another order for some catering or something. “V’s Sweets,” you brightly say into the phone. 

“Hi there, Ms. V,” a familiar, silky voice replies in your ear. Your brain damn near short circuits. “Your voice first thing in the morning is definitely better than these goddamn birds on my roof. How are you this morning?” 

It takes a minute for you to find your voice as his washes over you. You look around the bakery to make sure no one is watching you slowly combust behind the counter. “Uzui,” you exhale. “Um…m’fine!” You clear your throat, quickly recovering. “Good, thanks. How are you?” 

“Perfect now,” he answers without missing a beat. Goddamn him and his game! You can hear him smile on the other line and briefly imagine how fine he looks. “Listen, as much as I’d love to stay on the phone and hear you talk, I’ll admit that I’m in a time crunch with training. But I need your help with somethin’ big.” 

The gears in your head immediately start turning. What could it be, you wonder? A big event for the Demon Corps he wants catering for? “Oh…okay,” you hesitantly say. “What can I do for you?” 

“I want to put in an order for my girls,” he explains. You don’t know why, but hearing him call his wives “my girls” makes your heart flutter. 

‘Maybe because you want to be his girl too.’ 

You see, they’re off traveling to the mountains for a training session,” he continues. “They’ve been gone since last Monday and are returning Saturday night. I wanted to surprise them with a cake to welcome them home, but I need it ready by tomorrow. I know it’s last minute and I’ll pay as much as you want.” 

You instantly begin to schedule the cake order in your head’s calendar. Today is Friday which means you have at least the next 24 hours to fix this cake. Thank God you have a leftover batch of batter in the freezer you can use. “It’s no problem, Uzui,” you giggle. “That’s so sweet of you! Just tell me what flavor they like and other details for the cake. I promise I’ll have it ready by tomorrow.” 

Uzui sounds relieved. “You’re a fucking doll,” he sighs. “I’ll send you the money once we’re off the phone. Just work your flashy magic like I know you can, V. My girls are gonna be so excited when they get home!” You smile proudly, glad to know he trusts you so strongly when it comes to baking. 

You learn that he’d like a single-layered cake with buttercream frosting, candied flowers, and three flavors: vanilla for Hina, strawberry for Maiko, and chocolate for Suma. You write it all down and once you get that Cash App deposit, you get to work. 

For the rest of Friday into the night, you spend your hours mixing, baking, and sweating hard in the kitchen while your wonderful employees graciously take over for the customers. Even when they leave that night at 9 PM, you’re still there, flour on your face and food coloring on your apron. 

You are tired and in need of a hot shower, but once you finish the cake, you step back and admire your handiwork. It is a beauty—buttercream frosting swirls decorate the top of the cake along with candied flowers surrounding the words written in the middle: “Welcome Home, Girls!” You made sure to make the insides a swirl of vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry, coloring it just right. 

You almost want to call Uzui and send him a photo, but you decide to surprise him. So you carefully wrap the cake in plastic, place it in the fridge, and lock up your bakery before going home to sleep, walking on cloud nine. You think that nothing can go wrong with this order…Until the next night, that is. 

Everything that could ever go wrong goes wrong for you. For one, it’s because the cake can’t be delivered to Uzui until he gets home that night because he’s training a class. “I won’t be home till at least eight,” he explains that morning, sounding apologetic. “If someone can drop it off then, I’ll be home to get it personally and pay extra.” 

Number two, you’re extremely short-staffed. Not only is it Saturday and most people don’t work on weekends (except for you), but it’s also raining. The plans for the weather are downpours all weekend which means you definitely aren’t going to be able to find a deliverer. When you realize your dilemma, you sigh into your mug of much-needed coffee with two shots of espresso. “Shit,” you mutter, quiet enough to not alarm customers. Now it’s up to you to handle this. 

That night, while the handful of employees you have are cleaning your bakery before closing, you take the cake and put it in the trunk of your cute little Sedan. It is only drizzling right now, so you hurry into your car and punch Uzui’s address into Apple Maps. Once the route shows up, you take off but drive slowly due to the slick roads and the cake in the trunk. 

You’ve personally delivered orders before, especially to big events, such as parties and weddings. Delivering to someone’s house isn’t any different for you…except for the fact that this delivery is for a man that you’re severely feeling. 

Uzui’s place is about twenty minutes outside the city where the Demon Corps compound is located. His little home, purchased for his wives, is ten minutes away from the compound down a dirt road. You manage to make it there before the rain starts coming down like a waterfall in the Amazon rainforest. 

Raindrops pound against your car like tiny mallets as you race out of your car to toss open the trunk and get the cake. Even in your raincoat, you feel like you’re soaked to the bone. The dirt road has become wet and mushy like quicksand, making it hard to move in your boots. “God,” you groan, gripping the cake tight as you quickly move through the thick sheet of rain. 

You manage to make it to Uzui’s front door and rapidly knock with one hand. “Yes?” you hear him call, stern and unsure. Fuck, you forgot to call him first! “It’s V!” you shout through the door. “From the bakery? I’ve got your cake order here!” 

There’s a beat of silence before you hear the lock on the door click. The door opens, revealing a cozy home and a very wet, very shirtless man towering over you. Uzui stands barefoot in some sweats that are dangerously low on his narrow hips, giving you a peek of his well-defined V-line slick with water. His hair is stringy and wet and a towel is wrapped around his neck which means he must gotten out of the shower. You nearly drop the cake at the sight of him. 

“Hey,” he sighs. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, V. I tried to call, but reception is so bad ‘cause of the rain.” 

Your eyes tick up to look at his guilty expression instead of his body and sweatpants where you were definitely not hoping to see a dick print. “Oh…why?” you carefully ask. “Did you not want the cake anymore?” 

Uzui bursts into laughter. “Hell no, are you kiddin’? Of course, I want this beauty!” He smiles adoringly at the cake in your hands. “But the girls told me that they won’t be home until tomorrow because of the storm. That’s why they aren’t here. It’s just me.” 

It’s just me. “Oh,” you reply. “Well, that’s okay! I can still just drop it off and it’ll be good by tomorrow.” You hold the cake out for him to take. He does so, his big, calloused hands brushing yours. You clear your throat, awkward and ignoring the spark you feel when you touch. You snatch your hands away and put them in your pocket. “W-Well, I should probably—“ 

“You’re leaving?” he asks, sounding shocked. “In this weather? Wouldn’t you wanna wait this out for a while? I feel bad enough that you even came all this way here just to drop it off.” That’s an idea. A very bad idea. “No, no, it’s fine! It’s my job anyways, so—“ 

“Job or not, it’s still very generous of you,” Uzui interrupts you. “Can I fix you somethin’ before you go? Did you eat?” It’s just me. His words come back to you, haunting. Being in a room alone with a man you’re very attracted to and so happens to be married is a recipe for fucking disaster. “Uh…no, I’m really not hungry.” 

Grrrrooooowl. Your stomach rumbles, giving you away. All you had for lunch was coffee and a piece of apple strudel. Uzui smirks knowingly at you while you think about killing yourself. “Uh-uh,” he chuckles. “C’mon, I just fixed some rice and grilled chicken if you want some. The rain doesn’t stop till nine, so you can head out then. Cute car, by the way.” 

“Well…” You turn to look at your Sedan, contemplating your decision. What if this is a trap? What if you walk in there and never come back out? What if he’s really a cult leader, his wives are his members, and he’s trying to indoctrinate you or something? 

And what if maybe he truly is just being nice? Finally, you sigh and pat the pocket of your jeans to make sure your phone, keys, and pepper spray are, in fact, there. “Alright, but only until the rain stops,” you say, softly yet firmly. Uzui nods and opens the door wider for you. “Make yourself at home and I’ll getcha a plate. Lemme take your coat.” 

He stands behind you as he helps you out of your raincoat, making your heart pound ten times faster. He’s so big. He practically hits the ceiling above with how tall he is. You know he’d just about cover your body if he was on top of you. Once your coat is off, he hangs it up near the door and coaxes you to sit and decompress. 

While he takes the cake to the small yet homely kitchen and begins posting around in it, you take a seat on the love sofa that you know he and his girls have cuddled and fucked many times on. You left your boots by the door to dry so you stretch out your toes and shiver at the warmth curling throughout the house. Uzui’s home is so cozy with its splash of color, small rooms, wooden furnishings, and framed photos. 

Many, many framed photos. You stare at one next to you of Uzui in a suit in front of a backdrop of cherry blossoms. Hina, Suma, and Maiko stand in front of him, shoulder to shoulder, each holding a bouquet of flowers in gorgeous white dresses. “That’s from our wedding day with Suma,” he suddenly explains.

You startle, finding him standing above you with two steaming plates of white rice, grilled chicken with parsley, and a side of steamed vegetables. “That was taken three years ago,” he says, sitting down beside you. “We’ve been together for a long while now, all of us.” You smile despite yourself as he passes you your plate. “That’s a beautiful thing, to be with someone for so long and stand the test of time. Especially three other people.” 

He nods, agreeing with you. “We’ve had our ups and downs, but I wouldn’t give ‘em up for anything. They’re my everything.” The hint of an adoring smile on his face makes something tighten inside of you. Jealousy? Disappointment that you haven’t found that yet? All yes. 

For a while, you eat in silence that is only filled by the sound of the rain pitter-pattering outside. When you feel that some time has passed, you speak. “I envy you,” you sigh as you finish chewing on your piece of chicken. The explosion of herbs and spices nearly makes you moan in delight. And he can cook too?! “The dating pool is in Hell, so I haven’t done much of it.” 

“Oh, I believe it,” Uzui chuckles. “To be a woman as independent and beautiful as you…some men are intimidated by that. Believe it or not, no one wanted to court my wives because of their fighting skills and independence. It turns a lot of guys off.” He makes a disapproving face at the idea that makes you laugh. 

“Well, all it takes is that right guy to make any independent woman his,” you blurt. Fuck. Now that the words are out there and he’s looking at you so cluelessly, you have to explain. “Y’know,” you say, slowly chewing on your rice. “Like she’ll submit to you because you treat her so well. You make her feel safe.” 

Uzui nods in understanding, his plate completely clean. “Ah…is that what you look for in a partner?” You nearly get a piece of steamed broccoli stuck in your throat by the sudden pivot of a conversation topic. “Um…w-well, yeah, I guess, if I dated.” 

Uzui raised a confused eyebrow. “You don’t date?” Slowly, you shake your head. “I haven’t had much of a good swim in the dating pool, so I’ve just been focusing on my business. It gets lonely, yes, but I’m just not up for the bullshit and games.” You shovel more food into your mouth to silence yourself, realizing how easy it is to open up to Uzui. 

The Hashira continues to stare at you, his eye almost like a laser beam burning into you. You’re so focused on your food and the rain that you nearly miss his next words: “Well, I know for a fact that me and my girls wouldn’t dare bullshit or play games with you…if you let us show you.” 

You place your fork down on the plate, your appetite suddenly gone. Everything sounds louder now: the rain, your labored breathing, the blood pumping in your ears. You turn to Uzui and find him staring at you, his one eye blazing with intensity. “Why are you telling me this?” You ask above a whisper. 

Uzui lowers his plate to the table and does the same to yours. He doesn’t touch you, but his gaze on you makes you feel as if he’s touching every single part of you. “I was tryin’ hard to keep this to myself, but now that you’re here and we’re finally alone…I can finally tell you how I really feel.” 

In that moment, something in you ignites and you stand from the couch like something lit your ass on fire. “A-Actually, I need to go,” you stammer as you head to the door. “I need to feed my, um…cat.” Even though you don’t have a cat. 

But as you attempt to race to get your coat and boots, Uzui stops you by simply saying your name. “V,” he says, his voice almost pleading. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to make you feel uncomfortable.” 

Slowly, you turn your body to him, but you don’t look at him. You keep your eyes locked on the floor. “This feels like a trap,” you admit with an awkward laugh. 

“It’s not,” he protests, sounding hurt by the assumption. “I promise you, V, it isn’t. I had wanted to invite you over when the girls finally came home to tell you all of this, but with you being here…shit, I just couldn’t resist not sayin’ nothin’ to you after so long.” When you finally do look at him, his face is filled with so much longing that it nearly makes your knees buckle. 

“I need to act on my advances somehow,” he continues. “Did you notice any of ‘em? Ever?” You put your hands in your pockets, unsure of what to do. The room suddenly feels too small for your size. “Um…yes, but I’ll admit that I ignored them because of work. I needed to focus on my bakery.” 

“I don’t blame you for that,” he replies. “And I don’t blame you for bein’ wary of this, V, but you don’t have to be that way with me. My feelings for you are real.” The soft lamplight illuminates his handsome face. “My attraction for you is real.” 

You grip your keys in your back pocket. This is getting too hot and too personal. It’s too much. You should turn and leave to avoid falling even deeper into this dangerous situation. But instead, you stand there and face your fears. “I…I feel the same,” you softly confess, so soft that the rain nearly swallows up your voice. 

But Uzui hears you nonetheless. His body relaxes, the tension in his muscles melting away. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he wonders and you look at him like he’s deadass serious. “Tengen, you’re married,” you scoff. “You have three women that you’re committed to!” 

He nods, biting his lip. “Okay, yeah. That was a stupid question.” 

“So what about your girls?” you demand. “Is this going to ruin your marriage?” Immediately, he shakes his head. “Not at all. I was waiting till they returned so they could tell this to you in person, but they’re just as attracted to you as I am. They’ve wanted you to join our little family since we met.” 

Your eyes widen as your blood pressure rises. “Family?!” you parrot. “Tengen, I can’t marry you!” 

Uzui blinks in confusion and then realization like flickering lightbulb appears in his eyes. “No, no, no!” he protests with a laugh. “You’ve got it wrong, darling. I don’t mean join our marriage. I mean join our relationship—that is, you’d be dating all four of us…if that’s somethin’ you’d want to do.” 

You bite your lip, contemplating this. Yes, you’ve thought about being with them. Many of your nights have been filled with hot dreams of you between them, your bedroom filled with moans from all of you. But it’s different from actually doing it. “I’m attracted to you all too,” you admit, “but I’ve never been in a poly relationship before. I’ve never even been with more than one partner in the bedroom.” 

Uzui’s gaze is soft and sweet, making your stomach flutter with butterflies. “Nothin’ wrong with that,” he says, taking a step closer. You allow it, not moving even as he gets closer to you. “It’s your decision, V, but I can promise you that if you say yes, not a day would go by where we wouldn’t show you how right you were in picking us to be your partners.” 

When he is finally near you and towering over you, he takes your hands in his. “For however long you want us.” You stare up into his eye, falling deeper and deeper into whatever “trap” he has set for you. “Say that I did say yes,” you say, breathless from the magic he is working on you. “What would happen if I was your fourth girl?” 

His brows raise in surprise and a smirk stretches across his lips. “Oh,” he replies. “You want a teaser?” You jerkingly nod, afraid to speak. He turns his hands over so they are underneath yours and rubs his thumbs along your knuckles. You inhale and unfortunately catch a whiff of the fruity soap and cologne on his skin. 

“Well, for one,” he starts in his silky, dreamy voice, “I’d treat you the same way I treat my wives: with love, adoration, and respect…in and out of the bedroom, if that’s what you’re gettin’ at.” His eye pierces into yours, filled  with heat and a sinful promise that makes you want to fall into his big arms that are the size of your entire body. “And I make sure all of my girls are taken care of.” 

Something in the way he says that also tells you that ain’t just words—they’re a fucking promise. Finally, temptation gets the best of you and you toss yourself at him to kiss him. He makes a noise of surprise as you leap into his body, but once your body and lips melt into his, he moans in pleasure and satisfaction at finally having you here. Against him. Wrapped in his arms. 

His lips are soft and taste faintly of wine. They pull you in deeper and deeper, causing you to push your plump body against his. Uzui welcomes you, his toned arms hugging you tight and inviting you to indulge in his biceps and pecs. The more you touch, the wetter you get. You can feel your pussy clenching in your panties, excited by the many sights, scents, and sensations you’re experiencing. 

Finally, you pull away and you’re both panting, only an inch away from each other’s lips. “I take it you like that idea?” he murmurs against your lips. Slowly, you nod, speechless. “So you wanna give this a shot? Remember, baby, you call the shots here.” 

He gently strokes your back, not cringing at all at your rolls and love handles. It makes you feel especially sexy. You bite your lip, thoughtfully stroking his chest. “I’m thinking about it, but I think I need more…” One of your hands slides down to play idly with the tie of his sweats. “Persuasion,” you sigh. 

A big, happy smile crosses Uzui’s lips and he plants another passionate kiss on your lips. “I can do that, no problem.” Another hot kissing session begins that sweeps you off your feet and makes your pussy gush. The more you push against Uzui, he pushes back just as much, his hands roaming over your back, legs, and plump ass in your jeans. 

He wedges one of his muscular thighs in between your soft, plushy ones and you gasp at the hard sensation you feel pushing against his sweats. “Can you feel me?” he asks, peppering your neck in kisses. “That’s what you do to me. What you’ve been doin’ to me since I met you.” 

Your mouth stays agape, processing what you’re feeling. The pleasure is immense. His bulge slides against the heat between your thighs, right up against your fabric-covered pussy. “Of course, you’d need a bit of training with me though,” he adds, deciding to kiss your shoulder now. 

You tilt your head back, enjoying his ministrations. “You mean, like, fighting?” you ask. “Like your wives do?” He pulls away and a sheepish smile is on his lips. “Well, yes, but I meant a “different” type of training,” he chuckles. “I’m, uh…kinda big.” 

You stare at him blankly, confused. Instead of clarifying, he takes your hand and places your hand on his abs. “Go ahead; touch me, baby.” His eye twinkles with mirth and lust that excites you. Your hand cascades down his washboard abs to his V-line until you meet his very big, very hard, very thick bulge. Kinda? That thing is like a third arm! 

At your gobsmacked expression, he frowns. “Is this making you uncomfortable?” he worriedly asks. You flush, biting your lip to curb some of the horiness that has taken hold of you so you can’t even think straight. “Uh…uncomfortable ain’t the word I’d use.” 

Interest crosses Uzui’s handsome face and he yanks you closer to him. “Oh, yeah?” he teases. “I’m gettin’ to you, hm? Lemme see then.” His hands move off of you to move down to his sweats, his fingers gliding against the ties holding them up. “You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.” 

You don’t need to be told twice. Quickly, you take off your sweater, jeans, and bra along with your socks while Uzui takes his sweats and briefs off it one sweep. Suddenly, you both stand naked in his living room, your eyes drinking each other in. Uzui hungrily stares at your plump, soft, curvaceous body in the lamplight. 

Even though you’re clearly bigger than his wives, he still looks at you like you’re a dessert plate. If it wasn’t for how damn good he looked, you’d be embarrassed, but you’re too busy staring at his beautiful body, pierced nipples, and that big cock hanging between his three-trunk thighs. “Oh, wow,” you gasp. “Y-You’re really….big.” 

Uzui smiles, flashing you his pearly whites. “I’m on the thicker side too,” he says pridefully. “I thought it’d scare my wives, but they love it, even without penetration.” 

You can definitely see why. Your mouth salivates and your pussy aches for him. He steps to you, his chest and nipple rings now eye level with you. 

“So I’d train you to take my big dick,” he purrs. “Is that somethin’ you’re interested in tonight? Maybe a trial run?” 

A night of orgasms with the Hashira himself? How could you say no? “Yes,” you whisper. “But can I choose the positions?” He smiles, overjoyed with your agreement and gently kisses your lips. “Whatever you want, baby. But let’s take this to the bed.” 

As soon as Uzui leads you through the house to the last room—his and his wives’ bedroom—, he and you immediately hit the king-size bed big enough for six people and begin your highly anticipated “trial run”. After a serious of tongue kisses, touches, and licks, you’re suddenly in the most compromising position you’ve been in in a long time. 

You sit against the pillows with your legs spread and your panties discarded on the floor after Uzui pulled them down your thighs with his teeth. His thick fingers rub your cunt while your hand is wrapped around his dick coated in spit and flavored lube from his nightstand. 

Uzui stares at you adoringly while you jerk him off, pushing his hips farther into your hand. “That’s it, mama,” he coos. “Stroke that dick like a good girl. Get a feel of it.” 

You whimper at his praise-fille words, your pleasure only fueled by his thick fingers rubbing your clit in small, slow circles and the wet, lewd sounds of your hand sliding along his slick cock. You get to know each other and your bodies, focusing on what you respond well to and what you may not. So far, your body is responding extremely nicely to everything Uzui does. Your nipples are hard, your heart is pounding, and your pussy is gushing on his fingers as he continues to rub you. 

“Isn’t it so nice?” he asks, his voice husky and soft from your little hand stroking his big, thick dick. “Havin’ a big cock in your hand while you get that pussy rubbed?” He looks down at his slick fingers, hardening at the sight of your glistening holds. “She’s so wet for me. It’s been a while since someone has treated her well, hasn’t it?” 

He retracts his fingers and holds them to your mouth where you part your lips and begin to suck on them. He moans as he feels your soft lips wrap around his thick digits before he slides them out and places them back on your cunt. His cock grows hard, throbbing in your hand. “U-Uzi,” you moan. “I want you in my mouth.”

He smirks down at you, ever the tease. With one of his other big hands, he wraps it around your throat and squeezes. “What’s the magic word?” He presses a bit harder against your clit, making you gasp. “Please,” you exhale, your eyes fluttering at the pleasure. Uzui places a soft smack on your cunt, making you jump. “Louder,” he demands. 

“Please!” You whine, the word escaping you. He presses an awarding kiss against your soft lips as his hand replaces yours wrapped around his cock. “Good girl. Now open up.” Once again, you part your lips and he slowly slides his shaft into your mouth, allowing you time to get used to him. 

He is as big and as thick as he looks with a throbbing vein trailing from his tip dribbling in pre-cum to his heavy balls that lightly tap your chin as he sinks in deeper, deeper, deeper. 

You taste the salty pre on your tongue as his head slides across it, the taste tantalizing your tastebuds. He is so warm and thick, stretching out your mouth with every inch. 

He lets you settle into it for a few minutes before he begins to rock his hips and fuck your mouth. Your eyes sting with tears and your jaw aches from it being open slack, but you induce it. The pleasure of pleasing Uzui and having his big cock in your throat is too good to pass up. Uzui groans, his hand tangled in your hair. “Yes,” he hisses. “That’s it, take me deeper. Fuckin’ hell, V, you’re so good at this.” 

Hearing his husky, silky voice sound so thick with pleasure makes you oh-so wet. You begin to gag on his cock as you move your head up and down, bobbing along his shaft. You lick along him like he’s a lollipop, causing spit to drip down your lips and his balls. You’ve never felt so sloppy and slutty, but you enjoy it immensely. Is this how his wives every time they blow him? 

Suddenly, Uzui pulls himself out of your heavenly mouth and lays on his back. Before you can ask what he’s doing, his hands wrap around your waist and pull you on top of him towards his face. “Wait, wait,” you gasp. “What are you doing?” You look back at him, perturbed. He just gives you a dashing smile and lays a smack on your ass. “Putting this gorgeous ass on my face where it belongs. Don’t worry, I can handle you, mama. You just worry about gaggin’ on my cock, okay?” 

Seeing the gentleness and lust for you in his twinkling eye buries all of your doubts about sitting on his face. “Yes, Daddy,” you blurt, not even realizing what you said until you say it. You flush with embarrassment, but Uzui’s cock stirs like you just said the magic word. “Fuck, I can’t wait to have you,” he exhales, shuddering at your obedient reply. 

He coaxes you to park your pussy on his face which you do, bracing your hands on his thighs just as his tongue begins to caress every part of your slippery, soft, wet cunt. Your whimpers and moans are muffled as you begin to throat his cock once more, bobbing up and down, your tongue swirling around the heat while you stroke the rest of which you can’t swallow. 

Uzui is so unbelievably good at eating pussy, but you wouldn’t think he wasn’t. He uses his fingers where his tongue isn’t, rubbing your clit while his tongue explores your folds, his moans causing vibrations to travel up to your hardening, tingling nipples. You begin to suck on him eagerly, sinking your throat deeper onto his shaft. 

He groans underneath you, pulsing his hips up to fuck your face. “So greedy. I’m scared you won’t wanna share me once I get my girls in here.” Smack! He gives your ass another smack that makes your pussy quiver. “Ya think you could be a good girl and share my cock, baby girl?” 

You pick your head up from his cock and take a breath of fresh air. “Y-Yes,” you softly whine. His fingers slowly sink into your pussy, making your moans grow louder. “Do you mean that?” he asks, his voice dipping below an octave. You whimper as he curls his digits up, making you rock your hips back in pleasure. 

That knot in your stomach tightens until it finally snaps and you open your mouth to gasp as your orgasm approaches. “Oh, my God, Uzui…I’m gonna…oh, shit, I’m cumming!” Your orgasm ripples through you as Uzui begins to gently suck on your clit while he finger-fucks you, taking you through your nut. 

It’s a powerful, intense orgasm that makes your eyes flutter closed and your body feel like it’s soaring. It’s an orgasm intensified by the fact that it’s a sexy ass man causing it. That only makes it better. When it finally fades, you shudder with delight and a dopey smile appears on your lips. 

Uzui hums in disapproval as if you’ve proven that you’re lying, sliding his fingers out of you. “Guess it can’t be helped, but we’ve still got some training to do.” 

He plants a kiss on your asscheek and on your pussy. “Now be a good girl and take this dick the way you need to,” he purrs, giving you the go to use his dick as a personal dildo for your enjoyment. After all, you still need to undergo the rest of your trial run. 

You choose cowgirl first because it allows you to take control over the tempo and pressure. Uzui allows it, personally loving how you look bouncing on his cock. He lays back against a pillow with his arms comfortably behind his head as he ogles at the way your ass jiggles and juicy tits bounce every time you sink down onto his cock. 

“God, Uzui, yes!” You shout. “Yes, yes, keep going! Don’t fucking stop!” You’re losing your mind on it, practically seeing stars as you rock your hips, your hands gripping his pecs and your knees on the bed.

Uzui smirks up at you, loving this movie. “I’m not even doin’ anything, baby,” he chuckles. “That’s all you. Just look at this ass bouncin’ on my cock.” He gives your ass a sharp smack, loving the way you loudly whine as he does it. “Such a little cock slut you’ve become.” He tuts, licking his fingers before rubbing your clit. “You’re worse than my wives.” 

Just as quickly as it happened, he takes his fingers away and sucks on them. “But if you insist on me doin’ something to you…” He suddenly sits up and grabs you before thrusting his hips up to meet yours, plunging his cock deeper inside of you. Your mouth falls slack and you grip his shoulders, sinking your nails into his skin. 

“How’s this, hm?” He grunts. “Is this enough for my girl, huh?” You can’t even begin to voice the amount of pleasure you feel as he fucks you stupid, bouncing you in his lap. “Fuck, Daddy, yes!” You moan. “Oh, my God, fuck!” 

The pleasure only reaches new heights for you both as he suddenly lays you down onto the bed, hikes you legs up over his shoulders, and begins to fuck you missionary style. He mounts you, rides you, plants that big body on top of you as he puts you into his mattress. You wrap your arms and legs around him like a koala bear, enjoying the ride he takes you on. 

He smiles down at you, enjoying it too. “Such a flashy expression you’ve got there, baby,” he huffs. “Is this dick that good, hm? You enjoyin’ this trial run so far?” You weakly nod, too busy moaning to form coherent sentences. “Aw, c’mon, mama,” he coos, reaching down to squeeze your throat. “Give Daddy some words.” 

You don’t know what feels better: his big hand replacing a necklace around your throat or his cock buried inside of you. Desperation to keep this feeling fills you, giving you that kick to speak. “Uzui,” you moan. “Keep going. Fuck me please!” 

Uzui, with his face flushed and his hair falling in his face, smiles down at you the way a wolf would his prey. “Oh, sweetie, you haven’t been fucked yet.” 

After pressing a kiss to your bare foot, he bends your knees so he can press his pelvis against yours, your ass cushioning his thighs, and begins to piston his hips against yours. With every thrust and brush of his pelvis against your needy, throbbing clit, you grow wetter. So wet that it drips down your asscrack onto the sheets that you’re currently gripping for dear life. 

Fortunately for the both of you, your wetness increases the lubrication, making it easier to Uzui pound your pussy into the bed that rocks and creaks below you. Your moans and swears mingle with one another, creating a chorus of pleasure that echoes throughout the empty house. 

It doesn’t take long for that pleasure to build and spill over into your second orgasm of the night. “Cumming!” You sob. “I’m cumming!” Uzui talks you through it with that soft, sexy voice of his, still drilling your shit as if his life depends on it. “Cum for me, baby. Give me another, c’mon.” 

He presses himself against you, his nose buried in your hair, and gives you a few more determined, deep strokes that send you over the edge. With a loud sob-like moan, you cum again, gushing all over the thick cock buried inside of your cunt. 

Uzui groans as he feels your walls clench around him, threatening to make him cum too…but not yet. He still needs to show you more. When he finally feels you go slack underneath him, he gently unwinds your arms and legs from him. “That’s better,” he sighs with a smile. “Now it’s time to get my nut too.” 

Slowly, he pulls out and turns you over without warning. With a gasp of surprise, you feel him grab your hips and lift your ass up before sliding himself back home inside of you. Taking control over you and your body, he begins to slam himself into you, burying his cock deeper and deeper into the wet, quivering folds of your pussy. 

“That better?” He bellows from behind you. “You like gettin’ fucked like this?” You whine and moan in response, your face buried in the mattress. He fucks you like you’re his own personal fleshlight, using you for his own pleasure while also giving you yours too. Your pussy, still sensitive from your last two orgasms, squelches and throbs around him, pulling the cum out of him. 

Uzui leans down to whisper in your ear, his big body covering yours once more. “And just think: you can get this every day. Every night. Any time you want.” He reaches between your thighs to rub your clit, stimulating you. “You can get it fast and rough or slow and gentle. You can have this whenever you want it, baby. All you have to do is say yes.” 

You want to say yes. You’ve never wanted anything more. Your brain is fogged by pleasure and your third orgasm quickly approaching. You can’t believe that you can have endless nights of endless orgasms and hot sex with not only him but his three gorgeous wives too. Who wouldn’t say yes to that? 

“Oh, fuck!” You sob into the bed, fisting the sheets. “Too much! I can’t—“ 

“Uh-uh,” he interrupts you in a voice so demanding and stern that it silences you. “Don’t tell me you can’t take it. You can, baby. You can do whatever you set your mind to.” 

He presses your ass down onto the bed and proceeds to fuck you pronebone style, drawing his hips down against your soft, plump ass. 

“So you’d better set it on this cock,” he whispers. “If you wanna be mine, you have to.” 

You weakly turn your head to the side to look at him, finding his face already within reach. He plants a hot, wet kiss on your lips, sharing his breath with yours. “Don’t you wanna be my girl, mama?” He whispers against your mouth. “Don’t you wanna be mine?” 

Yes. Everything in your mind and body is screaming the word: Yes, yes, yes. Finally, you swallow your pride and let your need and the hot sex talk for you. “Uzui!” You sob. “Fuck, fuck, fuck yes!” 

You want to be his and you want him to be yours. His wives, too. You want everything they could ever offer you. You want it all. 

You can hear the smile in Uzui’s voice as he speaks, still pounding your cunt into the bed and bringing you to the brink of no return. “Give me another one, baby. Fuckin’ give it to me now. I’m gonna cum too!” 

There is no more talking as your orgasms take over, the pleasure rising and expanding until it finally explodes. With a gasp, you orgasm for the third time that night, clenching around Uzui’s magical, beautiful cock. The Hashira cums with you, letting out a loud moan as he fills you to the brim with his cum. 

You weakly whimper at the feeling of his warm seed gushing out and filling you up. There is so much! So much that it drips out of you and dribbles down your asscrack. He keeps himself buried inside of you, gripping your body to him as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear from his bed if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. 

You let him, loving how big and strong he is. He feels like a weighted sweatshirt on top of you, warm and cozy yet hard and slick with sweat. You inhale, breathing in his scent, falling more in love with it the more you breathe him in. He’s perfect. 

Finally, after what seems like a lifetime, Uzui gently pries himself away from your body. But he doesn’t roll off of you. For a moment, he takes a minute to stare down at your body, looking at you like you’re a Goddess who has blessed his bedroom. 

The way he gazes down at you makes you flush with embarrassment and shyness despite the act you just did together. ‘You’re perfect too,’ he says without opening his mouth. 

After sharing a kiss, he finally pulls out of you. “You okay?” He softly asks. Weakly, you nod, unable to lift your head up due to exhaustion. “Here, let me fetch ya a towel.” 

You feel the bed move as he gets up and hurries to the bathroom. When he returns, he has a towel and a bottle of massage oil. He begins to wipe you down with the towel, gently wiping the cum off of your thighs and ass. You let him, your limbs feeling like jelly. 

“All clean,” he finally announces. “Now hold still for me. You might be a little sore, but it ain’t nothin’ I can’t fix.” You feel him straddle you, his powerful thighs on either side of your hips. He squirts some of the massage oil into his palms and vigorously rubs them together before massaging the slick oil into your back, shoulders, ass, thighs, and calves. 

You softly hum at the feeling of his hands massaging your sore muscles, his fingers kneading the aches, kinks, and tight knots. He ebbs away the soreness from the sex, causing you to relax into the mattress. 

After doing your back, he moves off of you and helps you flip over onto your back. He pecks you on the lips before massaging your neck, breasts, stomach, inner thighs, and legs. The scent of lavender and vanilla hangs in the air from the oil, sending you on a trip to a field of it. 

He is so careful with your legs, lifting each one with a gentleness that makes your heart melt. His fingers knead your inner thighs and calves, caressing down to your ankles and toes. You can’t help but feel that it is more intimate that the sex. “You sure know how to treat a girl,” you sigh. 

He chuckles as his hands stroke up and down your ankle. “I try. You did so well for me that you deserve a reward.” You flush at the praise and close your eyes, completely and utterly ready to toss in the towel and be his. 

Oh. That’s right. You already did say yes…but that was when he was fucking you stupid. It was during sex. You don’t know his perspective on talking shit during sex, but does he consider your answer truthful or valid? Can he tell that you meant it? 

Because you did. You want to be his and his wives’ so badly. Things would have to go slow for a while so you can get used to dating four people at the same time, but you also know that they would be patient and happy to give you all the time you need. 

Something in you tells you that they would prove to be the best partners you’ve ever had. 

Biting your lip, you open your eyes to stare at the beautiful man still massaging your leg. “Uzui?” You whisper. Immediately, he pauses and questionably looks at you. “I meant what I said earlier…about wanting to be yours.” 

Realization lights up in his eye and he gently lowers your leg on the bed. “So you mean…you want us?” He expectantly asks. “My wives and me? You actually mean it?” 

Slowly, you sit up onto your elbows and place a hand on his. A slow nod and a smile are all Uzui needs for his answers. He scoops you up into his lap and hugs you close, pressing a passionate kiss to your lips that makes you swoon. “Thank you, V,” he whispers, joy evident in his tone. “I promise you that we’ll make you so, so happy. We can take it as slow as you need us to and we can—“ 

His words are cut off by his cell phone ringing in the living room. “Damn,” he sighs. “Hang on a sec.” 

He gently pushes you off of him and rises from the bed to head to the living room, leaving you alone to your thoughts for a moment. You laugh to yourself, in disbelief that you’re actually doing this. But you also find that you’re not regretful. If anything, you’re excited. You’re intrigued. You’re attracted to the idea of being with these four magnetic, attractive individuals and you want to get to know them even better. 

Uzui finally returns after a couple of minutes, still naked and looking good enough to lick. He wears a secretive smile on his face as he comes to sit on the bed again. “What?” You ask, raising a brow. 

“Well, that was Hinatsuru callin’ me,” he explains. “She said she and the girls will be home early…tonight, actually.” You gape at him, making him laugh. “They decided they wanted to test the storm and realized it was easy to travel in. Plus, they missed me too much. They’ll be home in about two hours.” 

Your heart skips a beat as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you down to lie with him on the bed. “So now we have two things to celebrate tonight,” he whispers. “And we can do it properly. Does that sound good to you, darling?” 

You smile into his chest, your body melting into his. You’ve never thought anything sounded better. 

THE END. 

[illusivelle]

neighbour's dozen

pairing: carmen 'carmy' berzatto x reader rating: t (for now) length: 1,857 words content: mild cursing summary: what are neighbours for if not for borrowing a cup of flour when you're in need? a/n: thank you for being so gentle with me as i put these words out into the world! there's something really fun and intimate about the small, maybe mundane day-to-day things and i'm glad that's getting across. the little things. anyway, the brain rot continues... and so does the tension. read part one link to ao3 here!

No other packages were mistakenly sent to your door since the last one, although there were a couple of stray letters that slipped past. It only gave you another chance to talk to Carmy, though, and you weren't exactly displeased about it. You'd told him what you decided to do with the purple cauliflower — roasted and puréed into a soup with crispy sage on top, of course — and how much your elderly neighbour enjoyed it. And he told you how sad he was to not have gotten a jar delivered to his door, not even a taste.

Next time, the words flew from your mouth without a second thought, a promise of something more that made the both of you smile. An unspoken understanding about whatever was blooming between you two. Amicable friendship, maybe, though the way his eyes made your heart skip a beat had you hoping it was something else.

It wasn't a standing date. Not really. You knew if you told yourself it was, you'd only end up disappointed when you didn't see your neighbour at the market, but it'd been a few weeks since the very first time you did and at this point, it was almost clockwork. You were convinced — and even argued with him — that you always got to the market first, but that was only because you'd never spotted those soft curls or bright blues when you arrived. It was only when you looked up from picking herbs or sorting a bouquet from the flower buckets that he was already standing there next to you. Carmy, on the other hand, wouldn't budge on the fact that he always arrived right as the market opened, some stalls still setting up when he came, and that was the sole reason he found you so easily.

Because he was there first.

Oh, and because he always had a coffee for you in his hand. That part was much harder to debate.

It'd only taken a couple market trips to become acquainted with one another's drink order. It started with being the first stop after you'd run into each other, the same vendor who'd come to know you both as regulars separately. And then, Carmy started showing up with your drink ready, and there was an intimacy to it that made you uncomfortable. Insisting on paying him back, insisting to get the next one. But he never took your offer for money nor did he give you much opportunity to buy it first, and your discomfort soon turned into fondness.

It was a little thing, a tiny detail of your day, but it set the tone — and meant more than you could possibly express to someone who was just supposed to be your neighbour.

You found other ways to pay him back, though. You made the purple cauliflower soup again, this time with extra serving just for him. He had no notes for you and you wondered if he was just being polite or if he truly enjoyed it that much. Each night, he'd go to the restaurant and cook for everyone else but when was the last time anyone cooked for him? This was the thought lingering in the back of your mind anytime you made anything, including now as you worked on measuring the dry ingredients for an old cookie recipe you'd been craving.

Only to find that, because you were thinking of Carmy, you didn't have enough flour.

Only to find that, because you were thinking of Carmy, you were knocking on his door.

"Hi." He had an arm up against the doorframe, leaning on it, ocean blues scanning you from head to toe. "You okay?"

"Huh?"

"You, uh, you've got…" he chuckled softly, "a little something. D'you mind?"

"I— no?" Your words were barely above a whisper, your attention stolen by the way he swept his tongue along his lower lip and made them shine.

It wasn't until Carmy's hand stretched out, a tender brush of his knuckles and then his thumb along your cheek and so dangerously close to your mouth, that your gaze finally locked with his again.

And what a mistake that was because he held your stare as he brought his thumb to his mouth, sucking the tip of it with a smile. "Baking?"

"I… was, yeah. I am."

"Do I get to be your taste tester?"

There was a beat of silence as your mind slowly tried to catch up to your body. "I'll make a neighbour's dozen, don't worry."

"A neighbour's… dozen?"

"Like a baker's dozen, but—"

"No, I know," he smiled wryly, "but what if I want more than just one?"

"Greedy, Carmen." You teased.

His chin dipped into his chest, those tufts of brown curls moving as he did and sending a strand falling against his temple. That dimple on his cheek deepened, and you swore you watched as his skin turned from pale to pink.

"A neighbour's dozen will be an extra twelve just for you."

Carmy's eyes flicked up while his head was still slanted down, the shimmer of mirth in them undeniable. "Deal."

"Deal."

"Okay."

"Only if—"

"Ah, so there are terms." He lifted his head and pressed his cheek against the doorframe, the arm just above curled around it flexing with the motion and god, how did he manage to look so effortlessly handsome?

You bit down on your lip, drawing it in with a smile that feigned innocence. "Unfortunately, I ran out of flour, and I was hoping my next door neighbour might have some to lend me."

Carmy didn't react. You thought maybe you'd read the situation all wrong, that maybe showing up at his door and asking for things was breaching some kind of unwritten agreement you had or crossing a line you hadn't known existed. You'd been about to open your mouth to take it back when a grin split his lips, Carmy pushing his door open wider and gesturing for you to come in.

"What— what was that, dramatic pause?"

"Had to build up the suspense a little," he laughed softly, "you, uh, did you really think I wouldn't?"

You blinked back rapidly a few times, shock turning into amusement with every step you took further into his apartment. "There was a chance, yes. What if you didn't have any?"

"Then we'd go get some."

The answer was quick, easy, as if it were the only answer in the entire world, and it made you falter in your tracks.

The layout of his space was similar to yours, only flipped, and yet you couldn't help but look around anyway. Pockets of his apartment felt untouched while others felt wholly lived in. The couch, clearly worn in and used, along with the coffee table littered with papers, pens, markers, a notebook and some glasses. There was hardly anything hanging from his walls but he did have a bookshelf, mostly full with spines you couldn't make out this far away.

"You can, um, you can have it."

You turned to look at Carmy, now standing in front of you with an entire bag of flour in his hands. "Oh, no, I just need a—"

"I don't bake anyway. I just, you know, cook."

"And you don't need flour for that?"

"I'll come knocking at your door if I do."

"Are you sure, Carmy?"

"M'sure." It was only flour, you told yourself, taking it from his hands without missing the way his fingers grazed over yours in the exchange. "Only if—"

"Ah, more terms."

One hand darted up into his hair, mussing the brown curls and you could only wish that you'd been the one to do that for him. To feel how soft they'd be as you untangled them or massaged his scalp after a long day.

"M'just kidding. I'm happy with, uh, with our original terms."

You held up the bag with a wide smile before tucking it into the crook of your arm. "Thank you. You're a life saver. A cookie saver, really."

"Yeah, of course."

As much as you wanted to stay here with him longer, you weren't exactly sure that would be appropriate. Sure, seeing your neighbour and keeping each other company at the market was one thing, but hanging out in his space was another. Right? And if Carmy really wanted you to, he'd ask, but he said nothing more as you started to walk back toward the door, flour in hand.

Once you were standing in the hallway again, you spun on a heel to face him, only to find him so incredibly close. So close that the bag of flour knocked right into his chest, your palms splaying out over the carved muscle you could feel hiding beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. "I— so—"

"No, I'm so—"

"No, no. It's—"

"It's okay." He murmured, one hand covering yours and giving it a tight squeeze. Your heart squeezed in tandem, constricting so tight that it ached and stole the next breath from your lungs. "You okay?" Another tattooed hand snaked around your middle and flattened at your back, as if to steady your balance.

And while you might have been standing stick straight, there was no denying the way your knees felt weak and how your frame rocked forward ever so slightly, your heart thumping loudly behind your ribcage like it might lurch itself in the direction of Carmy's.

"Yeah, m'good. Thanks again."

"Yeah."

One second was all it took for the reality to wash down upon you, the one second it took for him to drop his hands and tuck them into his pockets. "See you around?"

"Okay." Willing your feet to move despite how heavy they felt, you eventually made your way down the hall, wiggling the handle to push into your apartment.

"Okay." Carmy called out, and it wasn't until you were inside your own apartment that you finally heard the door click moments before your own did.

Now that you'd gotten to know more about your neighbour, he wasn't just Carmen Berzatto, curly-haired blue-eyed boy-next-door with chicken scratch for writing and a fleeting dimple you wanted to see again.

He was more than that.

You set the flour down onto your kitchen counter and counted down from ten, inhaling deep breaths in through your nose and exhaling out through your mouth. And with every second that passed, you thought of all the different things you'd learned about him over the number of weeks.

Ten. Carmen Berzatto, double espresso connossieur. Nine. Carmen Berzatto, a subtle floral expert who always encouraged you to put an extra bunch of baby's breath in your bouquet. Eight. Carmen Berzatto, chef extraordinaire, with a sweet tooth he liked to hide. Seven. Carmen Berzatto, gym rat, because why else would he have arms like that, that distracting vein trailing down the centre of his bicep to his forearm? Six. Carmen Berzatto, thoughtful and kind neighbour, with marker stained tattooed hands that were always willing to help.

In through your nose and out through your mouth. Five, four, three, two, one.

Counting all the different ways you were so. utterly. screwed.

[najia-cooks]

Lemon balm shortbread cookies

Lemon balm (Melissa officinalis), a commonly foraged plant in the mint family, gives a lightly herbacious, bright lemon flavor to these shortbread cookies. They have a classic, crisp, sandy shortbread texture; optional poppy seeds add crunch and a mild nutty flavor. The lemon balm and poppy seeds may be swapped out for any combination of herbs, spices, or citrus zest that your heart desires.

These cookies are subtly sweet and very dunkable, making them perfect companions to a cup of tea or coffee.

Recipe under the cut!

Patreon | Paypal | Venmo

Lemon balm has square stems and opposite leaves (two leaves per node on opposite sides of the stem). Leaves are simple (one leaf blade with no leaflets); ovate and slightly heart-shaped, with scalloped edges; slightly glossy; thin, soft, and hairy; and deeply veined. They are emerald green on the top, and a lighter greyish green on the underside. They have a lemony scent and an oily texture when crushed. Stems and petioles (leaf stalks) are covered in small standing hairs.

Ingredients:

120g (1/2 cup + 1 Tbsp) salted non-dairy margarine, softened

60g (1/3 cup) caster or granulated sugar

180g (1 1/2 cups) AP flour

1/4 cup (8.5g) minced lemon balm

1 tsp poppy seeds (optional)

Like most traditional shortbread, this recipe follows a 1:2:3 ratio of sugar:butter:flour (by weight). Any herbs, spices, citrus zest, etc. of your choosing may be added to that base.

You could replace the caster sugar with powdered sugar if you want a melt-in-your-mouth texture, rather than a typical crumbly shortbread texture.

Instructions:

Cream margarine with an electric beater for 30 seconds, until it has a whipped texture. Add lemon balm and sugar and beat for another 3 minutes or so, until a couple shades lighter in color (this means that you have incorporated enough air).

Add the flour and mix well with a wooden spoon; then press with your hands to form into a ball.

Roll the dough out into a cylinder. You can make the cylinder more regular by placing it on a piece of wax or parchment paper, then folding the parchment paper over; use a ruler or the flat of a knife to force the cylinder of dough back into the folded edge of the paper.

Wrap the dough by twisting the ends of the parchment paper around, like a candy wrapper. Chill the dough for at least an hour, to keep the cookies from spreading in the oven by allowing the flour to absorb liquid.

Using a sharp paring knife, cut the cylinder of dough into slices about 1/4" thick. Place on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper, about 1/2" apart.

Bake at 350 °F (180 °C), in the top third of your oven, for 8 to 10 minutes. For chewier cookies, bake just until the center of the top and bottom of the cookie is no longer wet-looking; for crisper ones, bake until the edges are just starting to turn a light golden color.

[luv-y0urself]

18 headcanons for woon's 18th !

day 1 : living with woon . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

established relationship!au | roommate!woon x fem!reader ♫．genre : slice of life, so much fluff... | wc : 789 | warnings : second person pov ! woon is implied to be a student ⏤ in college or high school is up to you to decide. as always, there is some mild bickering too :') 𖤐．first post of the series ! happy birthday once again, woon <3 make sure to let me know which one you guys like the most for the full fic on the seventh day ! more details on the masterlist linked below ↓

ᵔᴗᵔ﹕masterlist | the next day . . . [posted] !

living together-

there would never be a dull day if woonhak was living with you… literally. there’s always one thing or another happening around you guys, and you guys always make the most of it. 

like, there was one time when woonhak insisted that you teach him some of the yoga/pilates things you’ve been doing in your freetime, saying something like “it can’t be that hard…”

oh boy. poor guy was shaking just using a foam roller and doing a couple of exercises with it while you were nearly crying from laughter. 

“you won’t even be able to use a reformer!!”

“sh-shut up!! yes i can!!”

but even when you guys bicker with each other like that, woonhak is still someone that you can rely on for anything.

sometimes there are just days where you don’t want to do anything and just want to stay home, but he forces you to get up and do something, even if that’s going on a short little walk with him outside for some fresh air or just being next to his warmth while he’s doing homework for some of his classes, listening to his voice talking about random things to make you feel better.

he always has food prepared for you on those days – not processed, delivered food, but actual homemade food that he made, freshly prepared for you to eat.

“... thanks, woon.”

“you have to do the dishes.”

“are you kidding me???”

throwing tantrums-

cue the hundreds of videos of woon on the floor throwing a tantrum…

if something doesn’t go his way… this is definitely the type of move he would pull out of his pocket.

FOR EXAMPLE. if something goes wrong w the game he’s playing, he would lay on the floor and start doing this, causing you to run out of the kitchen, not even caring about the flour from your apron leaving a trail behind you as you stare at his flailing body.

of course. just when you're making your favorite cookies to eat during the weekend...

“... woon…?”

“oh my GOD i literally cannot beat this level this is absolutely horrible i’m so bad at this game–”

“woon– oh my god–” you run over and reach out to him to grab his hand holding the flailing controller, putting it down and grabbing both his wrists, successfully putting them above his head as you stare down at him. he finally stops and sighs, looking into your eyes.

“you know, sometimes i wonder if i’m babysitting a child or if i’m living with my boyfriend.”

woon scoffs, all thoughts about the game forgotten as he swiftly switches your positions so that he was on top of you now.

“well, obviously your boyfriend, right?” he gives you a mischievous smile before he starts tickling your sides, getting flour all over his clothing and face before you’re finally able to make him stop.

yes, throwing a tantrum means you have to go and calm him down… which also means this happens every single time too. you still haven’t quite figured out a way to get out of the situation, which wasn't good because woon was getting better day by day at finding your weak spots.

"woon – oh my god – let go of me! my cookies are going to burn!"

"not until you say that i'm the bestest boyfriend in the world."

"jesus christ–"

coparenting a pet-

now, although you insisted that you have enough on your hands with woon in the house, he always wanted to get a pet – a pet dog, specifically. you’ve always said no because that would be too much of a commitment for you guys. but… for his birthday, you finally decided to give in – all the while doing a small prank.

see, you packaged a couple of cute dog toys and gave it to him on the morning of his birthday. he opened them up, happy to see the plushies but a little confused. 

“aren’t these for… dogs…?”

you couldn’t help but smile. “check outside.”

his eyes light up immediately and he zooms out of the room, and you follow him with your phone recording, watching as he picks up the dog from the box that you bought him in and had left outside just a couple minutes ago, the small brown furball nearly disappearing in his arms.

his eyes look at yours with a look of wonder and joy, and he smiles so wide, making your heart warm just by looking at the two of them together. he puts down the dog softly on the floor and immediately pulls you into his embrace, his large hand covering the back of your head and burying himself into your scent by snuggling into the crevice of your shoulder.

“thank you so much, love.”

© luv-y0urself / 2024 | taglist : @onedoornet @blankjournal

[burntsecrets]

✨Special✨ Brownies

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Reader

Word Count: 1031

Summary: You and Eddie make brownies in his trailer. His are ✨special✨, though.

Warnings: drug use (weed), mild language, suggestive humor

The scent of chocolate wafts through Eddie’s trailer, mingling with the sharp tang of whatever “special ingredient” he’s carefully adding to his batch. Black Sabbath plays low in the background, the dark riffs blending with the clink of mixing bowls and spoons. Eddie hums along as you crack another egg into your own bowl, careful to keep your brownies distinctly separate from his. You know some of the Hellfire guys don’t appreciate his idea of "extra flavor."

“You sure you don’t wanna make yours a little more exciting?” Eddie teases, glancing over with a grin that’s more mischievous than anything. He’s leaning against the counter, his wild curls brushing his shoulders, dark eyes catching the dim light of the trailer's kitchen. There’s flour on his shirt—on purpose, probably—and his rings clink as he stirs his batter one more time.

“Pretty sure,” you say, smirking as you swirl the melted chocolate into your mix. “Not everyone’s a fan of those brownies.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, mock offended. “Their loss. I make a killer brownie.”

“Yeah, if you want to spend the rest of the night on a different plane of existence,” you quip, shaking your head. The batter in front of you is thick, smooth, and sweet—a stark contrast to the chaos brewing on his side of the counter.

He steps closer, his shoulder bumping yours playfully. “Well, maybe some people need to lighten up a little, huh?” His voice is low, teasing, the music pulsing underneath his words as the bass kicks in.

You laugh, nudging him back. “Maybe. But I think I’ll stick to plain old brownies. Besides, someone’s gotta make sure Mike and Dustin don’t accidentally eat yours and spend the rest of the session in another dimension.”

Eddie chuckles, the sound deep and warm, vibrating through the tiny kitchen. “Good point. But seriously, these guys need to learn to live a little.” He winks, then grabs a spoon and dips it into your batter. “Let me taste.”

“Hey!” You slap his hand away, but he’s already licked the spoon, grinning like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar. His lips curl in satisfaction.

“Mmm. Perfect. Too bad it’s not as fun as mine.”

You roll your eyes, turning to pour the batter into the pan. The rich, sweet smell of chocolate mixes with the unmistakable earthy scent of Eddie’s “special” ingredient, now fully blended into his brownie batter. You can’t help but laugh as he slides his pan into the oven next to yours, a smug look on his face. He wipes his hands on a towel, tossing it over his shoulder with a flourish before cranking the volume on his stereo. The unmistakable opening riffs of Black Sabbath’s “Paranoid” fill the trailer, vibrating the walls.

“Come on,” Eddie says, pulling you by the wrist before you can protest. “We’ve got time to kill.”

You laugh, letting him spin you into the middle of the living room, where the cramped space suddenly feels alive with energy. His wild curls bounce as he throws his head back, mouthing the lyrics, eyes alight with that infectious, carefree joy. The beat pulses through you, and you can’t help but sway, grinning as Eddie belts out the chorus in his raspy, off-key voice.

“Iron Man's up next,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows, taking a step closer as he plays an imaginary guitar. His fingers move expertly through the air, his body swaying in exaggerated motions like he's onstage at some packed arena instead of his tiny trailer. You can’t stop laughing, the tension of the day melting away as the music takes over.

When the next song kicks in, Eddie grabs your hands and twirls you around. You stumble over your feet, but he doesn’t let go, guiding you into a makeshift dance that’s half headbanging, half an uncoordinated waltz. You’re both breathless, laughing too hard to keep up with the tempo. The oven’s warmth fills the room, mingling with the growing haze of smoke from Eddie’s earlier indulgence, but the brownies are still safe—for now.

“Come on, sing with me!” Eddie shouts over the music, his voice cracking with enthusiasm. He pulls you closer, his grip firm but playful, and suddenly, you’re both shouting the lyrics, offbeat and too loud for the tiny space but perfect for the moment.

The chorus of “Iron Man” echoes through the trailer, and Eddie’s laughter is contagious as he spins you again, this time pulling you into a dramatic dip. The world tilts, and you grip his shoulder, your eyes meeting his for a brief, breathless second. There’s something so simple, so easy about this—about him. He grins, and for a moment, you forget everything outside of this trailer.

As the last chords ring out, Eddie lets you stand up straight, his hands still resting lightly on your waist. Both of you are out of breath, flushed from dancing, and the oven timer dings behind you.

“Looks like the brownies are ready,” you say, stepping back to catch your breath.

Eddie’s smile widens as he wipes the sweat from his brow, looking at you with a glint in his eye. “Perfect timing. Though I have to say…” He pulls the oven mitts off the counter and holds them up. “The dancing wasn’t bad either.”

“Not bad?” you mock, raising an eyebrow. “I carried that whole performance.”

He smirks, handing you the mitts. “Guess we’ll have to see if your brownies can hold up to mine, then.”

“Think they’ll appreciate your culinary skills?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder. 

With the music still playing softly in the background, you open the oven door and pull out both pans, the warm, rich smell of chocolate filling the trailer.

“Oh, they’ll love ‘em,” Eddie says, flashing that wicked smile again. “But not as much as I will.” His eyes meet yours, playful and intent, and for a second, the air between you feels thick, charged like the electric hum of the amplifier he constantly fiddles with.

You smirk, tossing a towel at him. “Better hope they don’t figure out which batch is which.”

He catches the towel and drapes it over his shoulder. “That’s half the fun.”

[afterlife11]

So I have more holiday Bakugou stuff I wanted to share and I hope you like it. Especially because it’s now Christmas/Hanukkah season

───★──────────────

It was a cold December evening, the kind where the frost clung stubbornly to the windows and the air smelled of pine and possibility. The kitchen was warm, filled with the sweet aroma of sugar, cinnamon, and melted butter. You stood at the counter, sleeves rolled up, a dusting of flour on your cheek as you concentrated on rolling out the cookie dough.

Katsuki Bakugou, your ever-grumpy boyfriend, leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching you with a mix of amusement and mild annoyance.

“Are you seriously gonna keep cutting them that uneven?” he grumbled, gesturing to the tray of oddly shaped Christmas cookies.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a star shaped cutter. “They’re supposed to be fun and unique, Katsuki. Not everyone has to be a perfectionist like you.”

“Tch,” he scoffed, pushing off the counter. “Move over. You’re hopeless.”

Despite his sharp words, his touch was gentle as he nudged you aside. He grabbed the dough and started cutting precise shapes with military precision. His brow furrowed in deep concentration, and you couldn’t help but smile. Even in something as simple as making cookies, Bakugou gave it his all.

“See? This is how you do it,” he said, holding up a perfectly cut tree shape. “Not that lopsided mess you made.”

“Wow, thanks for the lesson, Gordon Ramsay,” you teased, grabbing a handful of sprinkles. Before he could react, you tossed some at him, the colorful candies bouncing off his spiky blond hair.

His crimson eyes narrowed dangerously. “Oh, you’re dead.”

Before you could bolt, he grabbed a handful of flour and tossed it right at you. It hit your shoulder, sending a puff of white into the air.

“Katsuki!” you shrieked, laughing as you grabbed a spoonful of frosting and smeared it across his cheek.

What started as a simple cookie making session turned into an all out food war. By the time you both called a truce, the kitchen was a disaster zone. Flour dusted every surface, sprinkles littered the floor, and both of you were covered in a sticky mess.

“Great,” Bakugou muttered, glaring at the chaos. “Now we gotta clean all this up.”

You smiled, stepping closer to him. “Worth it, though.” You reached up, brushing a bit of frosting off his cheek. “Besides, I think you look cute like this.”

He scoffed, but the faint blush creeping up his cheeks betrayed him. “You’re an idiot,” he muttered, pulling you into a reluctant but warm hug.

As you leaned into him, you couldn’t help but laugh. Christmas cookies might have been the goal, but the memories you made together were far sweeter.

[a2zillustration]

December Baking 2024

My Great Aunt's Molasses Cookies - 5/5

I actually made a metric ton of cookies this month, but this was the one two batches I made by myself. This one comes straight from the fam, so I have to type out the recipe (spoilers, it seems suspiciously like the recipe on the molasses jar, but it is slightly different).

INGREDIENTS 3/4c shortening 1c sugar 1/4c molasses (we get mild) 1 egg 1/2 tsp cloves (we don't use them bc my mom hates them) 1/2 tsp ginger 1 tsp cinnamon 1/2 tsp salt 2 tsp baking soda 2c flour extra sugar for rolling

DIRECTIONS • Preheat the oven to 375ºF

• Mix shortening and sugar; add molasses and mix.

• Put egg in a separate bowl and put the dry spices into the egg. Mix together and then blend them in with the rest. (author's note: I don't really know why we do this bc mixing the spices with the egg is hard and you have to really scrape it out of the second bowl, but who am I to judge)

• Add in the flour and baking soda. (author's note: I mix these and the salt separately, like you would a normal cookie recipe, then add them gradually)

• Use a small cookie scoop to make the balls and roll in sugar.

• Bake on ungreased sheet at 375 degrees for 8-10 mins. They need to look done but not necessarily brown. Makes approx. 3 doz

NOTE: The first batch was made subbing in butter for shortening. I added ~1/2tsp of corn starch just to see what would happen, but they still spread considerably. They're much chewier than the shortening version though. Next time I might try using slightly less molasses or adding a little more flour to offset the extra liquid from the butter.

ANOTHER NOTE: The shortening cookies do come out a little crunchier, but you can do the trick where you put them in a container with a fresh slice of bread for a day or so to soften them up.

Anyway, we love these cookies. My mom makes them all the time because they make a lot, they're pretty easy, and they taste really good. Plus, they're usually something that you wouldn't see when you'd expect cookies!

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

Day 6 — Christmas Goodies

Pairing || TFATWS!Bucky x Female!Reader

Word Count || Around 700

Contents & Warnings || Fluff, very mild Smut — mild explicit content/language.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Advent Calendar 2023

Flour.

Eggs.

Sugar.

Butter.

“What more do we need?” you pondered, glancing over the recipe to ensure all the ingredients were ready for the cookies you were baking.

“Lots of kisses,” Bucky mumbled, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and peppering your cheek with sweet kisses.

“Yes,” you giggled, leaning into him, “lots of kisses.”

“And sex. Lots of hot sex,” he whispered against your neck as the sweet kisses turned into more passionate ones.

You groaned in fake annoyance at Bucky’s distracting tendencies, his sultry words, and fiery kisses. He was always tempting, always so goddamn compelling, but you fought to suppress the effect his actions and words had on you—a nearly impossible task.

“Stop thinking with your dick for a moment.” God, that glorious dick. “And start being useful by mixing the wet ingredients,” you quipped, playfully pushing him away with your ass.

“Hmm, do I make you wet, baby?” he murmured in your ear before stepping aside.

You gave him a blank glare, trying to be serious. “I’m as dry as these dry ingredients I’m about to mix into this bowl,” you teased, fighting to maintain your facade. But with a tilt of Bucky’s head and a smirk on his lips, you lost in, bursting into laughter, with him following suit.

Still chuckling, Bucky reached for the wet ingredients. “All right, all right,” he said with a grin, returning to the task of making cookies. “Let me focus on these wet ingredients while you handle the dry—no more distractions, doll. I promise,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Good,” you nodded in mock seriousness. “We’re making cookies, not babies,” you smirked, though you were sure there would be plenty of baby-making practice later in the evening.

After completing your separate tasks, you and Bucky combined all the dry and wet ingredients, creating the perfect dough. Bucky sneaked a taste, and you lightly swatted his hand, resulting in a pout from him and a demand for a kiss to make it better. You gladly obliged, moaning at the taste of both him and the cookie dough.

With the cookies on the baking sheet, you and Bucky shared a satisfied glance before sliding them into the oven.

As the cookies were baking, you and Bucky went to work assembling and decorating a gingerbread mansion kit. Sat at the kitchen island, you worked together.

It was always an adorable sight watching Bucky do arts and crafts. He always approached it with seriousness and professionalism while still maintaining his cute charm. As you assembled the structure, his tongue poked out while piping icing on the edges before carefully adding pieces to the rest of the house.

It was a comfort to watch him. It always was. No matter where or what you were doing, it was always a special moment to cherish, especially when it was just the two of you—playful and intimate. When Bucky could feel human for a moment with such mundane activities.

The sound of the oven beeping pulled you out of your daydream. You got the cookies out, and the aroma of freshly baked treats wafted throughout the kitchen. Bucky set aside the gingerbread mansion, and you gathered around the cooling rack together.

Bucky’s eyes lit up at the sight of the crispy cookies. “Ooh, cookies!” he cheered as you assembled a plate to share. The two of you sat down, and the room echoed with delighted moans as you took your first bites.

“These are amazing,” Bucky exclaimed between bites, a satisfied, boyish smile on his face. You beamed with happiness at your successful baking venture. You leaned into him, sealing the accomplishment with a deep kiss, tangling your fingers at the hairs of his nape, savoring the taste of cookies and him.

With the flavors lingering on your tongue, you returned to the gingerbread mansion, finishing the construction before moving on to decorating. As the final touches were placed, the mansion stood as a testament to the evening’s second successful mission.

“Another successful mission,” Bucky declared with a grin, and you couldn’t agree more. You celebrated with sweet kisses and bites of delicious cookies, enjoying each other and the treats for the rest of the evening.

Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

I don’t do taglists so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

[littlejuicebox]

Baking Cookies

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: First winter post-BG3 / You and Astarion live together and you’re trying to introduce him to “normal” traditions and things he may not have experienced before. Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / Holiday fluff / Sexual references / Maybe some mild in game spoilers Word Count: 1K Notes: This is 1/5 "Days of Star-mas!" Tried to keep this GN but please lmk if you caught something! :)

I'm also entering this into the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 challenge under the prompt "holiday spirit."

Click here to see my master list.

-----

“Darling, this entire thing seems to be quite the mess.” Astarion huffs, flicking his gaze over the bowls, trays, baking goods, and various accoutrements strewn across the counter.

“Well, my love, that’s kind of the point! To make a mess and have a bit of fun. It’s nothing we can’t clean up.” You respond, giving the rogue a small smile and a good-natured eye roll, “Now what’s next?”

You two are in the kitchen, the delicious smells of cinnamon and nutmeg wafting through the air. Astarion is leaning over the kitchen counter and returns to reading the baking instructions aloud to you as you knead the spiced cookie dough in your hands.

“After kneading, shape the dough to ready for baking. Well… how on earth are we supposed to shape it? That’s not very specific.” The vampire murmurs with an irritated huff, nose wrinkling in frustration. He really wasn’t thrilled about participating in this new Midwinter tradition of baking treats for all your friends, but you’d managed to convince him with a heavy dose of eyelash batting and a little bit of whining.

You giggle as you take the spiced dough from the bowl and begin rolling it out with a pin, sprinkling flour about the counter as you work. You nod your head at the gingerbread molds you purchased from the market earlier this week. “With the cookie molds, my love. Or we can twist the dough with our hands… you’ll see.”

Soon enough, you’ve put Astarion to work cutting out gingerbread cookies and placing them on the baking trays while you’re twisting your portion of the dough into shapes. You watch the rogue as he works, quite intently, on forming the little beings. He’d decided to give a few of the cookies horns and tails, of course, and you’d been thrilled to see him getting into the holiday spirit in his own way, so you allowed his artistic liberties.

“That one looks like Karlach!” You exclaim, as you see Astarion pressing horns and a tail onto a gingerbread form that he’s also given massive biceps.

“Exactly the point, my dear.” Astarion grins, as he places cookie-Karlach onto the final open spot in his tray. “And this one is Gale.” He gestures to a cookie cutout he’s pulled slightly to make it taller and thinner, holding a twisted staff in its hand.

You chuckle, and having just finished your own tray, take the cookies and place them in the oven to bake. As you turn back to your love, he’s holding his hand out to you and beckoning you closer to him. You quickly oblige.

“You’ve got a bit of sugar and spice on your face, darling.” Astarion whispers, moving to kiss your cheek. His tongue laps at the powder before he aims to kiss your lips and you’re enveloped in the sweet taste of sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, and him. The rogue grins mischievously, pulling back to look at you, white eyebrow cocked. “Hmm… looks like there might be some powder behind your ear and down your neck, as well.”

You roll your eyes at the vampire and his obvious lie as he moves to nibble your earlobe and then swirl his tongue behind it before trailing tiny kisses down your neck. When he pulls back again to admire you with scarlet eyes, you’re completely flushed.

“Are you satisfied with your little game now, my Star?” You ask, trying your best to chide the vampire and hide your smile.

Astarion turns toward the counter, and before you realize what he’s doing, he’s already dipped his long fingers into the remnants of the cookie spice mixture and turned back to you. He quickly drags his powder-coated hands down your neck, past the exposed parts of your chest, and across your arms. You’re covered in the sweet particles and staring at him, mouth open, brimming with shocked incredulity. He grins impishly and places a small boop of powder on your nose before you catch his hand in your own, scrunching your face at the rogue.

The vampire steps forward with a good-natured chuckle to kiss the spices off your nose before wrapping you in his arms. “Not satisfied quite yet, darling. And we have a bit of time to kill while those cookies bake.”

You roll your eyes at your lover, but relax your face and smile anyway, content to join the pale elf in his little game. “Hmm… I wonder what we could do with that time, my love.”

Astarion hums, feigning thinking, as his lips wander to your neck and his tongue drags a sticky trail of saliva and sweeteners back up to your ear. He whispers, voice low and gravelly in that way that makes your knees weak. “I have a few sticky and sweet ideas.”

You two spend the entire time the cookies are in the oven on the kitchen floor, creating quite the mess. Astarion is the one to stop the fun, pulling away from where his lips had been absolutely ravaging your own. “Pardon the interruption, my dear, but I think the cookies are about finished. I can smell them, and I think you might kill me if they burned."

The both of you stand and you peer into the oven. The vampire is correct, and you beam at him, placing a little loving kiss on his bloodhound nose. “That’s a wonderful hidden talent, my Star.”

You carefully remove the trays and place them on the counter to cool, admiring the efforts and handiwork that led to such beautifully browned pastries.

“Hm… those look delectable.” Astarion murmurs, cocking his head to appreciate the cookies before turning to look at you. “But you look even more delectable, my little treat. Now come here to me and let’s finish what we’ve started.”

You eagerly cross the few paces to your lover and Astarion is quickly upon you again, easily pulling you back to the kitchen floor and enveloping you in his love. And as promised, a sticky-sweet, fun mess is soon made all over the kitchen.