#soft--cookie commissions

[soft--cookie]

My commissions are open!!

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What I Do:

Original characters

Fan Art

Animal/ Fur/ Anthro

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Nsfw

More examples and pricing can be found on my portfolio: https://softcookieart.com/commission-info.html

Any inquiries can be sent to softcookie.commissions@gmail.com

Reblogs are appreciated!! <33 

[skeletontheblacktophat]

commission existence for someone named Hexa. Huge shoutout to bubbles; I'm happy with how these came out-- especially for the second picture.

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: billy butcher, hughie campbell, frenchie, mothers milk, kimiko, and soldier boy

↳ warnings: canon type violence and happenstances. hinted to take place during season three at some points.

↳ notes: sorry butcher is in here so much. he's the kind of guy that can't shut the fuck up, so i feel like he's always getting in everyone business no matter what

↳ song: rock me like a hurricane—scorpions

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

• He has mixed feelings about you

• On one hand, you’re a great team player. Always making sure the job gets done, willing to put yourself on the line for the team, one of the most willing to kill a supe in a snap—second only to him—and always managing to make shit up on the fly whenever something inevitably goes wrong on a mission. Butcher has seen you fend off an entire team of armed Vought men before with nothing but a well timed lie and piece of pipe. That’s not something to scoff at, even if he does anyways

• But on the other hand, he has a feeling that you were just as much as an annoying shit as he acted sometimes

• “Sorry to say this guys—“ You said one night through the food in your mouth as Chinese takeout sat on a dirty table in front of you, curtesy of M.M and his pocketbook, “—but I think I’d betray you all for a fortune cookie. I’d betray my country for a fortune cookie.”

• "You say that like we ain’t already betrayin’ the cunts, sunshine.” Butcher eyed you from across the room as you nicked Frenchies own cookie from him while he was staring off at Kimiko for the tenth time that night

• “Too right, Butch.” You grinned like a shark at your idiotic nickname for him, and he ignored you as you did so; like he always did

• He definitely appreciates your enthusiasm behind his plans. Unlike Hughie or M.M, who despite working in the business of taking down supes seem to be hesitant about doing too much shit, you don’t seem to have a very strong moral code. That’s not necessarily a good thing in anyone’s eyes except for Butcher’s, who knows that he can always count on you to have his back in whatever situation he manages to squeeze himself into

• “Thanks for comin’.” He grunted at you while vomiting into a toilet, green bile spewing from his mouth. Butcher’s eyes burned with the urge to let out a laser beam, and he did so for a moment, splitting the porcelain throne we was leaning over in two

• “Want me to hold your hair back for you, honey?” You didn’t even miss a beat to start making fun of his situation, which made Butcher growl at you even from his current position. Despite your sarcastic demeanor in the moment, and the way he had just scorched an unexpected hole through the shitty bathroom, Butcher knew you’d help, no questions asked. And that’s exactly what you did, grabbing whatever he asked you to as he gave you a run down on the latest solo mission he had been attempting to get by with on his own

• “Jesus, poor Gunpowder huh?” You mused as you crossed your arms and leaned on the sink above him. For a moment Butcher thought you were granting the dead supe a bit of sympathy before he saw the glint in your eyes. “If the last thing I saw before I kicked it was your mug, I’d probably wanna get it over with yeah?”

• “Do me a favor. Go grab the toaster in the other room an’ take a nice bath with it, would ya?”

• “You first, Butcher.”

𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥

• The two of you are like peas in a pod. Two very weird, very cautious peas in a pod

• Even if Butcher is beside himself with annoyance at having another, as he put it, “soft cunt with a morality complex,” join the team, Hughie couldn’t be happier that someone seems to share his values on supes, on Vought; on the world, really

• In the first season or so, the two of you would probably spend a lot of time in between working with everyone else in the field to come up with a way to take Vought down the right way. Eventually,as we all know, that later falls apart, but it exhilarates Hughie to know that there’s people out there like him that want to try and put in the effort for things like that

• “Yeah, so if we can get one more witness about the Termite incident to come forward and testify—“ You bit your pen between your teeth and nodded as Hughie waved his hands over a stack of papers and talked at a million miles an hour, somehow understanding each and every word.

• “—then we could finally take a supe down legally. And that would make way for a whole round of others; Hughie you’re a genius.” You finished his sentence for him, slapping a hand down on the table with a grin as Hughie smiled. Somewhere in the distance someone snorted wryly, no doubt having heard the entire conversation. You had no doubt it was Butcher, but that didn’t matter to the either of you with how happy you were at the revelation. No matter how temporary it would turn out to be

• Hughie finds himself trusting you quite a bit. He can get attached pretty easily, so he finds himself willing to do anything to back you up—within reason of course. He still has some semblance of sanity left

• Listens to Billy Joel with you! Doesn’t matter if you all are coming back from a mission covered in blood—once it was whale guts—he will stick one earbud in and leave the other out for you as he presses play on a mix. More than once the others have found both of you passed out and snoring as the faint sound of Billy Joel plays through the headphones

• “Think we should wake them up, mon amie?” Frenchie tilts his head as he looks down on the both of you. Hughie chest rises and falls with a softness he couldn’t afford on the regular. You were positioned far away from him to have your back to him, somehow keeping your end of the earbud in as you drooled

• “Nah, let em sleep. God knows they need it.” M.M shook his head with crossed arms, the sight reminding him of better times

• “Oi! Stop ogling at the knackered sods and come help me with this, would ya?”

• “Fuck you, Butcher.” M.M said with a sigh, leaving the room to go and help anyway

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞

• He fucks with you so hard

• I mean, come on, someone that’s as excited about making bombs as he is? Someone that is willing to understand French? To shit talk everyone else to their face—especially Butcher?? He might have to marry you on the spot

• Please learn French. He will literally beg you to start. Conjugates, vocabulary, even a simple ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. Anything at all. Will absolutely not judge you for your horrific accent or pronunciation if you have any

• Bomb lessons on the side, too. If you already know the basics, or are a pro, it’ll be a lot more breezy, but he’s willing to start from scratch. It’ll be nice to have a partner to help him with his creations on the team for once, and even better since he likes you

• The two of you, and Kimiko obviously, are practically joined at the hip. What I said about the shit talking earlier was real, too. All of you use different languages or sign to voice whatever you’re thinking. It’s nice to be able to speak your mind freely, and there’s the added bonus of not having M.M give you that sharp look of his, or Butcher calling you names. Anymore than usual, that is

• “What do you reckon the three of ‘em are always on about?” Butcher took a swig from his drink. He was sitting next to Hughie with a beer on one of their down days as the younger man typed away on a computer. He was watching you Frenchie and Kimiko from across the room as you all signed at each other with giant smiles on your face. Frenchie would speak occasionally, but all that came out was his mother tongue, and your face would pause for a moment as you let your brain process what he was saying. Then all of you would break out into another round of grins, something that Butcher had to deadpan at

• “Probably planning a coup.” Hughie answered Butcher without even looking up from his screen. He knew who he was talking about anyways. It wasn’t hard to guess thanks, to the occasional loud exclamation from Frenchie as you signed something particularly risqué or funny

• Butcher flitted his eyes away in annoyance from you all after he recognized the word ‘cunt’ in the passing conversation, along with a sign that was clearly supposed to represent him

• “I think at this poin’ I’d prefer tha’.” He grumbled into his cup, and all of you laughed

• “Cheer up, Butcher. At least Frenchie isn’t teaching them how to make homemade cherry bombs again.”

• “Shut up.”

𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐤

• Finally. Someone other than him can be the voice of reason in the group

• It’s tiring being the one to hold everyone together all of the time. It might help if Butcher wasn’t so much of an ass, or if Hughie didn’t feel the need to derail every plan with thoughts of his own, but M.M knew that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. So he’d take any help he could get with reigning everyone in

• Definitely bonds with you over your shared habit of wearing band t-shirts to meetups or hideouts. I’d like to imagine that at one point the both of you show up wearing the exact same one, and it goes exactly how one would expect

• “Same shirt.” M.M notices one morning, pointing at your torso with the initials N.W.A written over it. He’s smiling, and so are you as what he’s wearing in turn dawns on you

• “Same shirt!! Hell yeah.”

• Fist bumps. Fist bumps galore, man. The two of you fist bump a lot. To punctuate sentences, drive a point home, agree on stuff—anything. It’s your own way of communicating with each other without having to bat an eye

• It’ll take M.M a while, but eventually he’ll start to really open up about missing his family to you. Beyond just showing you pictures of his daughter at soccer practice, I mean. If he trusts you enough to have his back in a shoot out, then he trusts you with this

• At one point, it goes farther than his (regrettably ex) wife and daughter, and eventually branches out into what he’s willing to tell about his dad and brothers. You feel like you know all of them by the time he’s done, and that only makes the typewriter story hit harder when he finally decides to reveal it

• Let’s just say you were pretty willing to jump Soldier Boy on M.M’s half the first time you were left in a room with them

• “Just one swing I swear—“

• “He will literally beat you into a pulp.” M.M deadpanned, doing his best to avoid looking at the other imposing figure in the room as he clasped two hands on either of your shoulders

• “Listen to your friend, sweetheart. Would hate to have to scrub my hands clean of any of your blood. Getting under the fingernails is always hard.”

• “See what I mean, just one punch that’s all—“

• “No.”

𝐊𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐨

• It’s honestly great for her to be able to hang around someone that feels the same way that she does. Maybe it’s how silent you are that really draws her attention at first, but Kimiko really grows to appreciate you as a member of the team

• Probably gets a lot of joy from having a friend like you. She constantly asks to do things like have you watch movies with her or to do ‘sleepovers,’ which are really just the two of you crashing on the main room couch together

• She never got a chance at a normal childhood or friends, so you and Frenchie are the closest she gets to a peace of mind

• Not even a question about it, she’s making you learn her sign language

• Will stare at you for days on end, saying nothing but everything at the same time until you agree to learn. Once you do, it’s all over. She gets the biggest most happiest look anyone ever seen, and there’s no turning back from that

• “Kimiko, what are you doing. It’s two in the morning.” You groan at her from under the thin covers of your bed, doing your best to ignore her hands as they fly about. It’s the childish equivalent of ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’

• ‘No time to sleep. We have to go over stuff before the mission tomorrow. It will help us communicate.’ She was unnerved by your lack of enthusiasm. If anything it only spurred her on more, shaking your bed and pulling at your covers as you groaned. Even with the progress you had been making with signing over the past few weeks, your knowledge was still a bit shaky, and being half asleep didn’t help, so you only caught a few words. Enough to know what she wanted, however

• “Go away, Kimiko.” You whined. The shaking stopped, and for a moment you thought your request had worked. You were more than happy to fall back into whatever dream you had been having beforehand

• Then you heard the rushing of feet and a large weight slammed onto your legs

• “Goddamnit!—“

• Frenchie found the both of you the next morning; Kimiko looking bright eyed and bushy-tailed while you were practically falling asleep from where you sat. It was a teasing point for you over the next two weeks

• Between you, there’s moments like that where, despite Kimiko’s silence and your habit to keep your thoughts to yourself, nothing ever goes unseen or unsaid. The two of you know each other like the back of your hands, and sometimes you wonder if you’d even need her sign to communicate

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲

• If the saying ‘this town ain't big enough for the both of us’ could apply here, it absolutely would

• It’s almost ironic how bad Soldier Boy handles another version of himself. You’ve got just as much snark and anger as him, and it pisses him the hell off. Constantly.

• Maybe it’s because you didn’t fan boy over him as soon as he flashed a few cheesy lines that keeps his disdain for you boiling, or that you didn’t keep your distance when he threatened to eradicate your entire bloodline if you didn’t stop running your mouth at him

• “Need help with that?” He cocks a brow at you one day, watching with poorly hidden annoyance as you struggle to tie a knot in your shoes for the fifth time in a minute. The offer isn’t serious, and even if it was, he has no doubt you wouldn’t hesitate to kick him in the face if he bent down to tie your shoe for you

• “Need help taking my dick down your throat?” You parroted back at him while raising your voice in a false-happy tone. Finally you get the shoestrings to cooperate, completely missing the way Soldier Boy glows in a harsh warning at your attitude

• “Ladies, ladies, you’re both pretty.” Butcher calls from the room over, no doubt tired of the bickering between the two of you that had been nonstop for the past few days. “Let’s get a move on before one of you decides to claw the others bloody eyes out, yeah?”

• The fact that you’re not even a supe just ticks him off more. Only a few people have ever pushed his buttons like this, most of them being supes, and they always ended up being nothing but red paste in the next few minutes

• You make sure to point it out to him several times that you’re just acting like he always does, making sure to don a shit eating grin when he clenches his fist at your comment

• Please for the love of everything that’s holy tone it the fuck down. Some people may say that Soldier Boy has no self-control, but it sure is taking a whole lot of it not to kick you in the crotch as hard as possible

• “The feelings mutual.” You deadpan at him when he eventually shares that fantasy out loud. He knew full well that if you even so much as tried that, you’d end up with a broken ankle and your front pinned to the closest brick wall, but he had no doubts that you would go for it anyway

• Seriously. How has he not murdered you in your sleep yet

[wynnibee]

finished commission for @rinzydings

[id in alt and under the cut]

[id: a shaded and colored full body commission of Astral Orbit!Eclipse petting Dev's cat, Luca. Eclipse is in their "Cookies n' Cream" form, with only two arms, softer, more desaturated cream browns (compared to their usual umbers and reds), and only the rays on the side of their face. Their eyes are yellow with a pale yellow sclera on their crescent side, and soft blue with a dark brown sclera. He's wearing a gray hoodie with various white celestial patterns on it, including suns, crescent moons, eclipses, stars, comets and constellations. Their pants are their usual blue to red ombre with matching stripes and yellow stars, though the colors are slightly paler. Instead of their jester shoes, they wear a single white sock on the foot we can see. Luca is a patchy black and white chubby tuxedo cat. His head, back and tail is mostly black, with small, individual white hairs at the base of his tail. His white patches are on his shoulders, legs, and cheeks. Eclipse is sitting reclined on a white two cushion couch with their legs stretched out to the far side of it. He's leaning on one elbow and resting his face on his hand. Their other arm is resting against their side, but their hand is lifted to gently scritch at Luca's head, who's sitting on the arm of the couch in front of them, looking up at Eclipse's face. Eclipse has a soft expression on their face, with half-lidded eyes and a wide, sharp toothed smile. Star shaped fairy lights hang in the background along the wall behind them both. End id.]

[cherry-pop-elf]

What their Amortentia would smell like: Weasley Edition

All you did was something so harmless. You entered the WWW shop, and explored. Found yourself by the love potions, uncorked it for shits and giggles, and the smell sends you down a rabbit hole

Writing Commissions Open

William ‘Bill’

The beach. You smell the beach. The warm sand, the cool salt air, and the distant wind of beach flowers. It’s so warm, and inviting. The more you inhale, you smell something else. Marble. You smell cold stone, as if you were in Gringotts. A cooling scent to keep you grounded. A giggle leaves you, as you knew you smelled wet dog in there. You were going to keep that last detail to yourself. But, it did solidify something. He did smell like wet dog after his showers. You damn well knew it. Your Billy Boy.

Charlie

A smack to the face it was. This intense campfire. Very specifically a camp fire. Not a wood stove, not a fire place. It was a campfire. With those blends of nature, and burning of dried leaves. The smell of a campfire in the dead of night. When your eyes stopped watering from the smoke stench, you could smell something else. It’s almost like berries. Wild berries. A sweet, almost tart, against all that fire. Along with leather. Oh the leather clings to your throat. It stays with you, and hangs. That’s your Charlie alright.

Percy

Parchment. Parchment, and books. A rather bland scent. You swore you could even smell a freshly corked ink bottle as well. Amongst the paper, you smelled something else. Earth. You smelled earth. Specifically earth that had been freshly rained on. It’s such a soothing scent. Despite its blandness, it was comforting. It’s very familiar, and soothing. Just because it was simple, did not mean it was boring. It was his scent after all. It’s a simplistic, homey, scent. Simple, but never boring. Oh Percy. Your sweet little Percy.

Fred

Grape. That surprised you. Yes there was the expected. There was the scent of fire, gun powder, everything that defined a fire work. Yet, grape was a surprise. Grape, and tea. Specifically grape tea. There was also this distant taste of night air on the back of your tongue. As if you were enjoying a cup of cold grape tea, during a rainy night time sit on the porch. It was an almost mature scent. Fred? Mature? You were speechless. Yet, you couldn’t deny it. It’s him. It’s him to the smallest accent. Your Freddie.

George

Oranges. Oranges, and freshly made pastries. Yes, there was that familiar fire work scent, but you also smelled oranges. As if someone made orange cupcakes, and served it with an overly sugary coffee. It very much was a scent of someone waking up early in the morning. Fixing a cup of sugary coffee, with some freshly peeled oranges, while enjoying a freshly baked cookie. It’s so warm, and cozy. As if entering a kitchen, after the Fourth of July party. It’s so homey. Yep, that’s your Georgie.

Ron

Very fresh, funny enough. Like cut grass, and fresh laundry. It’s just a very homey scent. Like you were home sick, and you finally got to walk in through the front door again. It’s such a soft embrace. Like being hugged, after a rough day. You swear you even smell wool. Like of an old sweater, that’s been loved to death. Very musky, but in a good way. Like someone’s been working hard on a garden all day, and came inside to cool off. It’s such a warm scent. It makes you smile, and feel almost refreshed in a way. It was just right. It was home. Ron was your home, and he can make your day turn out for the better. Even if it’s just a few words. Your Ronnie.

Ginny

Wind. That’s the first thing that comes to mind. Just that scent of a windy day, where nature is carried through. The soft scents of floral undertones, mixed with fresh grass. There is also the scent of wood. Specifically freshly cut wood. Like someone had been whittling away, and was working hard on a project. Such earthy undertones, amongst the familiar scent of her favorite perfume. She wasn’t much of a girly girl, but that didn’t mean she hated femininity as a whole. Besides, her brother got it for her. That’s when you smiled. This was a scent of a little sister, that was loved so much, and strong in her independence. Oh that Gin Gin.

[luveline]

maybe like a couple weeks after their first date he runs into r again & roan gets excited

thank you for your request! eddie and roan —single dad!eddie and his daughter roan bump into you at the store and make your intentions clear to one another. fem!reader, 2k

Eddie has biceps of steel from the last few years of constant carrying. Roan doesn't tire him out quickly anymore; he can carry her from the car to the store and back again without aching. It's the lack of hands for lifting things that pose a problem. 

Every time he comes to the store he swears he's just gonna grab the one thing he came in for, and every time he ends up with a basket full of stuff he's been meaning to get for the last week or two, bandaids and dish detergent, Roan's favourite cookies because she's been a sweetheart this week even if they're three times as expensive as the okay ones, and even if it all makes the basket heavy as a bowling ball.

"You'll have to go down, you're slipping," he says to her. 

Roan is regretfully exhausted today, and doesn't like the sound of this at all. "I don't want to walk," she mumbles. 

"I know, sweetheart. Just for a bit." He plops her down on two feet, the burn in his arms mitigating slightly. "There we go. If you be a good girl for me we can get a big bag of candy, okay?" 

"You promise?" she asks. 

Her little voice makes it impossible to disappoint her. "I promise. You can still hold my hand if you need to." 

She holds his hand for a little while. The last things on Eddie's list are actually the first things, the only things he'd come in for —socks for both of them. He noticed that pretty much all of his are out of commission, and Roan's get lost in the washer every other day. 

Roan chooses to roam free, but she's learned her lesson since his last heart attack and doesn't wander. Eddie refuses to give her an opportunity, watching her like a hawk. It's why he doesn't notice you at first standing in front of the pyjamas feeling the soft fabrics between your fingers. 

Roan skips back to his side. "Daddy, look," she implores, pointing. 

Eddie picks up a packet of socks. "Two seconds." 

"Look! Look!" she insists. 

Eddie tosses the socks in the basket with all the enthusiasm of someone who's been in work for seven and a half hours. "What, babe?" 

You've stepped a couple of paces closer, waving at him when he notices you with your endearing, awkward smile. 

"Hello, Munsons," you say, in a way that Eddie takes for the shyness of going out with someone and an obvious delight to see them. 

"Hey," he says, in the same shy-delighted combo. 

Roan giggles infectiously and bounds forward to your legs. You hold your shopping basket out of the way. "Hey, princess! Wow, look at you! This is a pretty dress. Purple's your colour." 

Roan rubs her cheek into your thigh. "Hi," she drags out. 

"I'd pick you up, but my hands are full," you say. Basket in one hand, keys in the other, you've done the same as Eddie by the looks of things, come in for a quick stop and got distracted. "It's so nice to see you, it's been a whole week!" 

Eddie tucks his hair behind his ear. "I meant to call you back last night, I'm sorry. I put her to bed and totally forgot." 

Thankfully, you don't hold it against him. If anything, his apology brings an even bigger smile to your face. 

"That's okay, handsome." Eddie has to physically hide his pleasure, hand behind his head to scratch at his neck bashfully. "That's just fine, I wasn't worried. I mean, unless I should be worried?" 

"Definitely don't be worried," he begs. 

Five dates, one of which at his trailer, and a countless number of phone calls between, Eddie's confident that this might go someplace good. He's a wuss, though, for not having kissed you yet. He's trying to be a gentleman (he's scared shitless that he's forgotten how to do it right, and he likes you so much, he really wants to do it right). 

"Then I'm not worried," you say, rubbing Roan's little shoulders with your pinky and marriage finger, careful not to rake your keys over her shoulder blade. 

"We're getting, uh– the big candy," Roan says. 

"Yeah? The movie size bags? Your dad is so nice, every time we talk he's bought you something." 

"He's so nice," Roan agrees clumsily. 

Eddie shakes his head, "No, it's just my job." 

You send him a fond look. "I can't pretend that I know how to do it, but if you asked me, I'd say you were, like, creme of the crop, you know? It's amazing." 

Eddie takes that for encouragement. While Roan is busy pressed to your thighs adoringly, he juggles his basket into the other arm for want of something to do while he says, "Wayne offered to take Roan for the night this Friday if I wanted to make plans. Do you– would you be free? We could see a movie." 

"I would be, and if I wasn't I'd make myself free," you say. 

Eddie really, really likes that about you —you're honest. You don't play mind games. He figures it wouldn't work in your favour anyhow, considering you'd asked him out first, but he still appreciates it. It's nice to feel wanted. 

He really needs to kiss you, he thinks. If the moments right, at the movies, maybe he can hit you with the classic yawning faux play and wrap an arm around your shoulders. 

"You know I don't mind if Roan comes, right?" you ask. 

"I know, but– I kind of wanna focus on you, yeah? It drives me crazy wanting to get to know everything about you and having to wait until the next time we see each other." 

"Well," —you look down at Roan, shyness cropping up once more— "I'm not seeing anybody else. It's only you. I really love telling you things, and I'd love to go out with you, just us." You give Roan a blinding smile. "But I'll miss you, princess." 

Roan whines with her arms raised. You put your basket down on the ground and crouch to accept a hug that turns to a clinging, Roan's legs wrapping around your waist as you perch your head over her shoulder. 

"I'm not seeing anybody else, either," Eddie says. 

You pat Roan's back. "Awesome." 

Are you exclusive? Just like that? Eddie doesn't think that's how being someone's boyfriend goes, but it's a start. He'll ask you properly just as soon as he knows you enjoy being kissed by him, he decides. 

"Ice cream?" Roan asks you desperately. 

"Oh, sweetheart, I wish I could. We'll go again soon, okay? That was really fun, watching them scoop the ice cream together. I loved that." 

"Please?" Roan asks. 

You throw Eddie a save-me look. 

"Big candy tonight, and then maybe we can get ice cream another day," he suggests. "We gotta go home to make sure Rufus ate his chicken, remember?" 

"Will you come?" Roan asks you. Her voice wavers with a hopefulness that breaks Eddie's heart, honest to God. 

She just wants to be loved by you. She adores you. She has from the very moment you met, how you'd fawned at her, called her pretty, she chases that feeling almost like Eddie chases your attentions. 

He looks at you and he thinks, Fuck, she's good. Pretty, absolutely. Earnest? To a fault. His track record for reading people's intentions is awful, but he believes without a shadow of a doubt that you're someone worth fighting for. 

He decides to lay it on thick. More is more with you. 

"Y/N can't come with us tonight, baby, she has things to do. See how pretty she looks? She has somewhere she needs to go tonight." 

You fluster visibly, managing to follow his white lie by the skin of your teeth. "I'm sorry, I do have somewhere I need to go. But I'm just so excited to hang out with you and daddy again like we did last week, I had lots of fun."

"And she'll dress like a princess again next time, yeah?" Eddie adds encouragingly. 

"I will," you say.

He was supposed to meet you at a nice restaurant for dinner when his sitter cancelled on him last minute. Without qualm, you'd grabbed a bag of Chinese takeout and arrived at the trailer, everything about you working to drop his jaw clean out. Your hair, your split skirt, the way you'd taken Roan into your lap and fanned her face with a fabric fan and cood as her baby hairs blew in the breeze. Princess is the exact right word for how you'd been. 

Eddie has more than a crush's worth of affection for you. He's kind of crazy about you, actually. Roan is the same. 

"A princess?" she asks. 

You nod slowly. "I swear. If you want, I can bring over a little bit of my makeup and we can match. Does that sound okay, dad?" 

He's thankful for you turning the authority over to him. It makes it much easier to convince Roan to do as he asks tonight without a tantrum. 

"Sounds perfect." 

"Okay. Can I give you a kiss on the cheek to say goodbye?" you ask an ecstatic Roan. 

She lifts her head for kissing. You brush her hair from her face and peck her round cheek as she begins the process of detangling herself from your torso. 

You groan as you stand from a crouch and pick your basket up again. His jaw tenses of its own accord, your perfume sudden and encompassing as you step forward to say goodbye to him. 

"I'll see you on Friday, yes?" you ask, face craned upward ever so slightly. 

He's not sure he can wait that long. "Yeah, I'll call you?" 

"Tonight?" you ask. 

"Yeah, tonight. Whenever you want." 

"I want tonight, if that's okay," you say.

Eddie squeezes your arm. He thinks it's a lame move until your smile somehow grows. "I'll call you as soon as I get home." 

You nod, pleased. With a sweet goodbye wave to Roan, and a kiss so quick to his cheek that he's left wondering if he dreamed it, you and your basket dissappear around the corner toward the checkout. 

Roan looks up at him. Eddie grins. "She's nice, right?" 

"I love her," Roan says sagely. It's the same way that she says she loves cinnamon crunch cereal or her Dotty Dolly dolls, Eddie thinks, but it could easily turn to the same love she shows her Aunt Robin or numerous Uncles.

Hell, if you're as golden as you seem, Eddie would want her to love you as she loves Wayne, even as she loves Eddie himself. But that's miles down the line and much too much to be thinking about before a first kiss. (A proper one, and not a goodbye one, that is.) 

His cheek warm from your lips, Eddie feels suddenly reinvigorated. He shifts the basket into the crook of his elbow and swoops Roan into his arms with the gusto of a stronger man. 

"I like her, too," Eddie says. "I love you most of all. Forget one bag of candy, bubby, let's get three." 

Roan pulls at his shirt collar mindlessly, "Three of the– of the big ones, daddy?" 

"Yep. Three big ones all for me and you." 

His love for her is a whole lot bigger than three bags of candy, but it's a start. 

They make their way to the candy aisle. Roan recounts your appearance in clumsy wording, though lately she seems to be learning at a pace he can't keep up with. Every day she uses words he didn't know she knew, and better than that, her sentences have begun to stretch. Talking to her is the best way to move that along, so when she asks Eddie what he likes most about you, he talks for twenty whole minutes. 

[baby-stay92]

In Between Stages

Pairing: Idol!Seungmin x Idol!Reader

18+, MDNI.

Warnings: kissing, semi-public sex, P in V (wrap before you tap), unprotected sex, let me know if I've missed any.

WC: 958

Credit: Baby-stay92 & commissioned by @c0m3t143

Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @adestayskz @kpop---scenarios

@chanchansgirly @seochangbins-wife @lixies-favorite-cookie

@dwaekkicidal @hanjsquokka

You and Seungmin had always felt a connection towards each other, but never had it been as strong as in this very moment. You were both backstage, waiting to go on stage, his group would go first, but until then you both sent longing looks to each other. At one point, you found yourself alone with him in one of the rooms set up for people to relax in, between stages. You were sitting on each end of the couch, constantly glancing at each other, fighting the urge to meet in the middle. Soon enough the urge won and you both launched for each other, meeting in the middle of the couch. Hands were everywhere, lips were entangled in a messy make out session and soft moans filled the room. You never wanted this moment to end but soon it did as none other than Bang Chan cleared his throat, sending the two of you back to reality. You both quickly pulled away and Minnie got off the couch as Chan told him it was time for them to go on stage. You watched him walk out the room, sadness clinging to him like a dark cloud. Chan sent you a look filled with warnings and you knew that it wasn’t because he was against you and Seungmin, no he was simply worried about the potential dating rumours that could cause problems for both his group and yours. You turned around and faced the monitor that was set up for people backstage, to see the stage and the various groups performing. You saw Seungmin and the others come on stage and on pure instinct you moved from the couch to the coffee table, to be closer to the monitor, wanting  to not miss a thing. You didn’t realise just how big of an effect he had on you, you were glued to the monitor, your eyes were big and following his every move not realising that you slowly, but surely, grew more and more wet. How was it possible for a human being to be this cute, sexy and talented? It hardly seemed fair to the rest of the world, that one person held all those qualities. The stage ended and you got up, walking to the hallway and then towards the door where Seungmin soon would appear. Of Course literally every other member came through the door first, testing your patience. Finally Minnie walks through the door and before he’s even fully through it, you grab him by his hand and pull him down the hall to the nearest bathroom. He gasps in shock and you think you hear him question your actions along the way, but you simply didn’t care. You pushed him inside the bathroom, before joining him and closing the door behind you, making sure it was locked. 

“I don’t care about the risk of rumours starting! All I care about is you, Kim Seungmin.” You pant and kiss him before he can answer. He eagerly kisses you back and soon he grabs you and bends you over the counter, making you face yourself in the mirror. You smirk at him, as he quickly pushes your little skirt up over your ass before he pulls his pants down, just enough for his hard dick to spring free. “Better make this quick, baby, you have a stage soon” He groans and pushes your panties aside.

“Let’s see what you got, big boy” You giggle but you soon stop, as he mercilessly slams into you, with full force. He doesn’t give you as much as a second to adjust to him before he starts railing you fast and hard. You’re unable to control your moans, and so he reaches down to cover your mouth, not wanting people to hear the two of you. You placed your hands on the mirror, stopping yourself from slamming your head against it as you were bouncing from his brute force. He moved his free hand to your ass where he violently slaps you over and over again, not stopping till your cheek is red and sore for him. You had no idea how long the two of you had been in this position but you soon felt that recognisable knot tighten in your stomach, telling you that you were close to your orgasm. Somehow he seemed to know this, cause he suddenly moved his hand from your ass, down around you to your clit, where he aggressively started to rub circles. You felt the knot in your stomach snap after no time and an earth shattering orgasm washed over you, making your legs shake like leaves in a hurricane. He didn’t slow down at all, rather he picked up his pace and force, not caring that you were now feeling oversensitive - all he wanted was to make the both of you feel amazing. And god did he manage just that, you’d never felt anything like this before and all you could do was just take it, moaning louder and louder against his hand. Soon you felt him fill you up causing you to come again, your eyes screwed closed from pleasure. He stayed inside you for a moment but as a voice announced over the loudspeaker that you had to move to the stage door, he pulled out and fixed your clothes for you, before fixing his own.

“That was…” You trail off, standing up, fixing your hair.

“Amazing” He finished your sentence and kissed your clothed shoulder. You smile as you turn to him and kiss his cheek before leaving the bathroom, to go meet up with your group, so you could go perform, though you had no idea how you’d manage it with your legs feeling like jelly.

[sidewinder30k]

"Come on Sheriff, you can catch the »Crazy Moa Gang« members!!!"

It's another time travel paradox commission from @soft--cookie , this time with Marshal Dunestrider. I absolutely love the emotions in this one. They are all so happy.

[meltedbluecaterpillar]

Leona's Lemon Cookies

A/N: Here it is again. I will post the commissioned ones as well. Happy birthday Leona. Even though this is a repost.

tags: fem!reader, aphrodisiacs, garden sex wc: 6.7k+

You looked yourself over in the mirror with sparkling eyes and a smile pulling at the corners of your lips. You swiftly buttoned up your crisp uniform shirt while tucking the hem into your skirt. As you did so, you tugged the skirt up a few extra inches than what the dress code would usually allow. The soft skin of your thighs were exposed since you decided not to wear your uniform’s tights due to today’s special holiday. It was officially Valentine’s Day in Twisted Wonderland.

You had stayed up late the night before. Baking cookies with Grims’ vocal encouragement and willingness to eat any leftover dough without the additional lemon extract. When you had grabbed the golden vial of lemon extract from Sam’s shop earlier that week, he had warned you that under no circumstances should Grim consume any of it. It should only be eaten by the person you want to get closer to.

And that person was already so far out of your reach. At least that’s how you felt. 

You made Grim a few sugary, heart shaped cookies as a thank you for ‘helping’ and pushed through an extra batch of lemony cookies for tomorrow’s babysitters, and finished off the entire vial of lemon extract. You left Ramshackle that morning with Grim in tow, making sure that you would be early to campus in hopes of seeing the student who plagued your thoughts. You clutched the bag of heart shaped lemon cookies tightly with the spare bag hidden in the pocket of your blazer. Relaxing at the sound of neat, clear plastic crinkling in your fingers. The yellow ribbon sealing the bag tickled your knuckles as if they were encouraging you into being more confident. “Are you sure he’ll even eat them? He doesn’t look like the type to sink his teeth into cutesy cookies.” Grim sounded unsure of your plan to present something sweet to the person you wished to become closer to. Well, beastman you wished to become closer to. “Even if he eats just one and tosses them out, I think I’ll be happy.” You hummed with a wide smile. The day was yours to be seized, nothing could possibly go wrong.

-♡- 

“Leona? Who’s lookin’ for him? If it’s the Headmage, then I can’t say,” Ruggie shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, leaning back against a wall while sorting through a handful of Madol with a smug expression. Of course the hyena wouldn’t sell Leona out so easily. And Grim was already being toted away to the Mostro Lounge by the Tweels now that classes had ended. You were on your own for the rest of today’s mission. “Come on Ruggie, what about an I.O.U for next time you need help with something?” You suggested hopefully, noticing his big round eyes marveling over the bag of cookies poking out of your blazer pocket. His expression turned mischievous and you started to scowl. “Oh? Is that why you were looking for him?” He swiped the bag of cookies away from your pocket with a soft snicker. You quickly shot your hands out to snatch them back to no avail. “Let me have a cookie, and I’ll tell you where he went.” Ruggie purred as you, again, attempted to steal the treats back. No luck.

His hands were far quicker than yours, bouncing the bag between his palms with a smile. You were running on a short fuse already. “They aren’t for you!” You growled as Ruggie continued to tease you with the bag gliding against your fingertips, only to have it snatched away again. “I only want one. Leona won’t even notice. Just say it grew legs and ran away. Besides, you need to find him right? Giving me a snack is a perfect payment.” The hyena giggled, a familiar and snarky sound. He was now holding the bag out to you in cupped palms. You hesitated, before quickly taking the bag of cookies back. Just one… Then he’ll tell you where Leona is hiding. “Fine.” You murmured and carefully unwrapped the bag's yellow ribbon. The plastic crinkled under your fingers as you pulled out a lemony heart shaped cookie. The hyena’s eyes glittered with excitement at the sight of the yellow tinted treat. “Feed it to me?” He asked with a wide smile. His large fangs were exposed and his eyes were half lidded. You only grimaced in response. You held out the cookie for him to take with the bag clutched tightly in your spare hand. “In your dreams.” You growled with your eyes now narrowed at the beastman. 

Ruggie shook his head slowly, his smile still there as he took the cookie from you. “Oh, to be fed cookies by a pretty girl. I will dream, like most guys here will.” He threw his hands up in dramatic defeat as you quickly re-tied the yellow ribbon around the bag. As he took a small bite he pointed down the hall with a swipe of his tongue over his lips. “He’s in the Botanical Gardens, you’ll find him hiding somewhere in the subtropical zone. Probably still sleeping.” Ruggie instructed as he chewed away at the lemon flavored heart, sliding his tongue over the soft dough with a smirk. “Don’t snitch on me for telling you where he is.” He hummed as you turned away from Ruggie, sneaking the bag back into your pocket. “I’ll mention an annoying little cat told me.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the soft ‘meow’ from behind. You didn’t have time to mess around with an underling. 

You needed to speak with the person in charge.

-♡- 

The walk to the Botanical Gardens wasn’t as long as you imagined. Maybe it was the excitement of giving the sweet gift to Leona that made your steps much faster. Maybe it was the scenario of him thanking you with a smile that made time pass much quicker. Maybe it was the dreamy wish of getting something back for the upcoming White Day. You stepped into the large garden, looking around for a pair of long legs hidden among the shrubs or underneath a table with exotic flowers perched on top. But nothing yet. Ruggie said he was in the ‘subtropical zone’ today. You would have to go much deeper into the garden.

Your steps were light as you admired the plants you passed. Bright red strawberries, violet colored blueberries, pale green succulents in terracotta pots, and even pink flowers you had never seen before. As you trekked deeper into the lush greenhouse, the temperature began to rise. You shucked off your blazer to drape it over your arm, holding the cookies in your cupped palms as if they were made of thin glass. The air was hot, but your hands were becoming sweaty from the anxiety swelling up in your chest. As you passed a large tree slathered in thick green moss, you spotted a thin brown tail with a chocolate brown tuft of fur on the end. It was poking out from beneath a bush littered in small white flowers. 

Your heart jumped with excitement as you slowly crept over to the large bush. It was nestled in a small patch of grass, a few thin trees were planted there as well with vines draping over the branches. You gave Leona silent props for this new hiding place. Had his tail been hidden, you would’ve had no idea there was enough space behind that bush for one lion. You shifted the cookies into one hand and moved the ropey vines from out of your way, seeing Leona lying on his back. He was sleeping. Of course he was.

An open book was laid over his face, it was thick and appeared aged from both time and affection. The spine was cracked and there were tears along the rounded corners of its yellow leatherette. The light brown cardboard beneath was exposed from beneath. The book title stated that it contained the study of different exotic wild flowers. You never pegged Leona as the ‘flower’ type. Maybe he’s just using it to look productive in case one of the staff finally found him. And what a lucky feline he was today that it would be you instead. “Um… Leona?” You called out to him in a soft voice, kneeling beside him as you did so. He was unmoving. Meaning; he’s ignoring you, or he’s actually sleeping. With a hand now outstretched, you reached towards the book laying over the beastman’s face. As you lifted the book, you choked back a gasp as your eyes grew wide. Leona was staring at you. His sharp summer green eyes were half lidded from waking up and he appeared ornery already. “What?” He growled and grabbed the book. Your hand reflexively curled away as you stared at him in shock. 

“Oh! Sorry! Ruggie told me you were here, so… Here I am!” Your tone was awkward as you smoothed your skirt underneath your butt before sitting on the soft grass beneath you. Leona sat up, carefully closing the book with an annoyed expression as you looked down at the cookies in your hand. “Also… Your tail was sticking out…” You whispered as you listened to Leona set the book aside and sigh. “Are you here to tell me something? If you planned to snitch on me, you wouldn’t have sat your ass down. Spit it out Herbivore.” Leona’s eyes slowly scanned over your perched form, and moved over to the cookies in your sweaty palm. You could see them widen for a split second before he gazed into your eyes. The sound of silence filled the space between you as your face began to grow hot. Right. The cookies. He’s waiting for an explanation. “I made these, just… Cause I did,” you awkwardly shifted from where you sat and held out the plastic bag of heart shaped cookies to Leona. “And… ‘Cause it’s Valentine’s Day… Today… So…” The plastic bag was transferred carefully into Leona’s palms as he hummed in response. His brown tail swishing slowly across the grass patch ground with content from the sight. He silently admired the bag and pulled gently at the ribbon. “I don’t really eat cookies, Herbivore. If you wanted to give me something like this, it could’ve been meat. Not that you can afford it.” He huffed, not meeting your eyes as he pulled a cookie out of its plastic confines. Although he openly complained, Leona clearly intends to eat them for you. Since you worked so hard to make them on his behalf. “I guess since it’s Valentine’s Day I’ll have to eat them.” He held one of the heart shaped cookies in his fingers, then looked up at you. 

You attempted to mask your excitement, seeing him lick over the rounded edge of the lemony heart. His tongue was lined with papillae and you could hear the gentle scrape of the keratin over the baked dough. Leona’s eyes were processing your expression, and seeing him lick the heart shaped cookie felt intimate.

It shouldn’t feel intimate. It’s just a cookie.

The beastman pulled the pastry away from his lips, his cuspids now visible as he smiled. You felt the electric excitement shoot up your back and send you into an ice-cold sweat as the lemony treat was now pressed against your lips. The spot he licked was wet and warm, and you could taste the mint in his leftover saliva. “Well? I don’t like cookies. I can’t eat them all alone. Have a bite too.” He instructed as your face began to burn. You said nothing as you shyly bit into the edge of the cookie, chewing slowly as your eyes broke away from Leona’s intensifying stare. “Is it good?” Leona’s voice was soft and husky with sleep, the question a little too gentle from what you were used to. You nodded slowly as he pulled the cookie away from your mouth. Leaving you to chew and savor the scenario you were in from the magical lemon extract. You savored the soft lemony dough, the way it crumbled, and the hint of mint from Leona’s mouth. Your mind blocked out the bitter sweetness of the lemon. 

You looked up just as Leona took another bite from the once heart-shaped cookie. Of course, from the same spot. “Get another cookie already.” He grumbled and lightly tossed the bag upwards. A micrometer as the plastic crinkled in his palm. “I actually can’t eat all of this sweet shit.” He muttered as you grabbed another cookie. The silence was replaced with chewing and plastic crinkling. Leona commented once how sweet the cookies were, although he still ate them without hesitation. Once he finished one, the beastman was already grabbing another. You took care to nibble at each cookie slowly, wanting desperately for Leona to eat the majority of the cookies infused with the magical lemon extract. 

And it wasn’t long before the plastic bag was empty. The bag laid crinkled and flattened on the grassy ground, empty of sweetness with its delicate ribbon tossed aside. All that remained were yellowish crumbs left behind from the heart shaped treats. 

“Not bad Herbivore. Not bad at all… Very Valentine’s worthy.” Leona complimented softly with a laugh that vibrated through your body. His long tail swiped across the ground and bumped into your thigh, a playful touch that ignited that electrical excitement from before. You struggled to subdue the smile stretching across your face from his words and the ticklish texture of his tail against your skin. The magic was working. It had to be! “Thank you, I was up all night making them!” Your face began to grow hot as the smile you struggled to fight back was now dancing across your features. Your heart was slowly starting to pick up speed as his tail rubbed against the bare skin of your thigh. Something about that delicate touch was making you hotter. 

And hotter. 

You set your blazer on the ground beside you, cautiously loosening your tie with your other hand. The sweat building on your palms was much more pronounced as you refused to look anywhere but the rounded bones in your knees. Was this a side effect of the cookies? It’s not exactly unbearable, but it isn’t comfortable either. You felt as though sweat was beading at your temple as you struggled to remain still where you sat. The instincts arising within you begged to seek friction. To roll your hips shamelessly against the cool ground beneath you. 

You heard a quick pair of sniffs from Leona as you awkwardly shifted where you sat. Maybe he was starting to feel hot like you do? Leona’s tail slipped up your thigh and curled around your waist. Then, the beastman moved closer. You held in a gasp as his hand slipped around the back of your neck. “Don’t move.” His voice was stern and gravelly, making you obedient to his command. Leona brought his nose to your scalp, and sniffed at your hair. You were stiller than stone as he took in short and sharp inhales. Your hands nervously folded together with your eyes even wider than before, refusing to look anywhere except at the rounded bones in your knees. Leona pulled away with a frown and a low growl that sent a strong pulse straight to your core. “Why do you smell like that?” He sounded suspicious, his grip on the back of your neck tightened. Smell? “Smell like what? Is it the lemon?” You asked sheepishly, your legs trembling with adrenaline. You refused to look up at him. 

Leona was now kneeling in front of you. His knee dug into the earth below, right between your parted and sweating thighs. With how quickly you were becoming aroused, you had a feeling the scent of lemon wasn’t what he was referring to. He was hesitant before he took another inhale of your scent. His nose was buried into your hair, and slowly trailed downwards to your ear. His body was now pressed into yours as his nose pressed against your neck. A deep and lustful sniff this time as you shuddered with contained excitement. “Nah,” Leona’s gloved hand left the back of your neck and he pulled his face away from the sensitive skin on your neck. You flinched when Leona cupped your chin, his patent-leather encased fingers pressed into your cheeks and tilted your head so you would be forced to look up at him. The beastman’s thumb rubbed over your lower lip slowly as he observed your expression. His bright summer green eyes were burning into you now and his frown remained. “It's like you’re in heat.” His pearl colored cuspids were visible. A low growl rumbled through him as his thumb pushed itself into your mouth. 

Your face was even hotter as he pressed the digit against the flat of your tongue. The salt of the patent-leather made you even more excited, your panties were becoming stickier as you fought the urge to suck on Leona’s thumb. Yet, your willpower could only be focused in one area at a time. Your hips were starting to sway, rocking back and forth towards Leona’s thigh. You weren’t sure how to respond to such a statement, but that was simply because you couldn’t come up with anything. You did feel worried that maybe the plan went wrong with the lemon cookies. Did the two of you eat too many? You did use the entire vial of lemon extract. There wasn’t anything in the instructions saying not to. But there wasn’t anything saying that if you did use the magical extract, you would be trying to hump someone’s thigh after consumption. “Herbivore…” His deep voice had lowered another octave as his other hand grabbed your forearm tightly. Beneath his dark skin was a warm red glow of blush from the apples of his cheeks. “What was in those cookies?” Leona asked as his round, fluffy ears flattened against his head. You could smell the salt of his sweat. You could hear the soft hitch in his breath. You could taste the patent-leather from his glove. You could see how his expression went from confused and melted into desperate. And you could feel his erection now pressing against you. Something must’ve gone wrong when you were making those cookies. Sam said you would ‘get closer’ to the student out of your reach. But he never mentioned that this would be the way that you achieved said result.

You whimpered as his thumb pressed deeper into your mouth. You gagged around the digit as his hips rolled languidly against your body. You could feel how hard he was. How big he was. Leona’s tail was flicking around wildly as you raised your hands to press against the beastman’s chest. Too fast. He was moving too fast. His thumb slipped out of your mouth with a soft squish sound following. There was a silvery string of drool connecting you to the second-borne prince as you forced your rutting hips into stillness. “Lemon extract… I think… Maybe it was bad?” Your voice was barely audible as a sense of guilt settled in your heart. You knew it had something to do with the lemon extract. But you can’t actually tell Leona that. The reaction he gives might be one that ends with you possibly being expelled. Or worse.

The lion shook his head in disbelief of the suggestion. But you felt his heart skip with excitement beneath your burning palms. “Something like that wouldn’t have caused this.” He grumbled under his breath with his jaw now clenched. He was starting to sweat as he let go of your forearm, inching away from you with another shake of his head. Your hands curled into small fists as you felt your brain fill with a cottony fog. It was hard to form coherent thoughts without looking over the beastman in front of you like he was nothing but meat. Waiting for you to sink your teeth in. Your eyes couldn’t help but wander over the large twitching erection buried under his uniform slacks. You couldn’t help watching the way his chest rose and fell, and how his chest called to you and begged to be marked with both bites and kisses. You couldn’t help how the magical lemon extract made the great, and usually very aggressive Leona Kingscholar so submissive and in dire need of help finding relief. 

And who were you to deny him of what he clearly wanted? 

The space between you and Leona was eliminated as you lifted yourself from a sitting position to rest on your hands and knees. You crawled over to Leona, moving on top of him with your hands resting on his shoulders. You straddled his thighs, pressing against him as he began to growl again. “Herbivore..?” His voice was strained and confused by your actions. You could feel him throbbing against you. The only thing keeping him from being inside of you was your sticky cotton panties, and his linen uniform pants. His fingers were nimble as they tugged at the hemline of your skirt. “Off.” Leona growled, his mouth opening and his eyes half lidded. He then nipped at your chin. The bite was playful, a light nip and ghostly scratch of his cuspids dragging against your skin. You swallowed back a giggle, feeling ticklish when Leona licked the soft skin in an apologetic fashion. His gloved hands slipped themselves beneath the soft skirt and reached for the thin elastic band of your panties. Your thighs were sticky, only getting stickier as the two of you awkwardly squirmed around to peel off your skirt and now soiled undergarment. The hurried and desperate action left you both laying down. Your much shorter body lay on top of Leona’s as he tugged your panties down your raised hips and allowed you to pull them off with your skirt. Now exposed, you felt the air graze over your scorching skin. It was like a teasing kiss for what was soon to come next. Leona’s gloved hands gripped the soft fat of your thighs once the clothing was discarded near your blazer. Your hips were raised as you sat up on your knees, hovering cautiously over the large bulge that was starving for your attention. For your touch. You steadied yourself with your hands resting on Leona’s chest. Your fingers slid down to his yellow uniform vest and slowly undid the buttons. You said nothing, all you could do was tremble with delight from the positive response.

Did you want this? Part of you did, but part of you wished for more of a fairytale romance. One where this magical lemon flavored syrup would make Leona see you as more than just… A Herbivore. But this situation turned into you playing the role of the hungry predator, with Leona as your shivering prey. With his vest now undone, you slipped your hands under the thin white fabric of his uniform shirt. Your fingers slipped over his pectoral muscles, right before testing the waters by rubbing over his nipples. His eyes went wide and he reached up to snatch the collar of your shirt. He was scowling with his teeth bared and eyebrows furrowed. “The hell are you doing?” He growled, his expression agitated. But it didn’t last long.

You seated yourself onto his crotch, rolling against his erection as you rubbed his nipples in delicate circles. You did your best not to be affected by his reaction, watching the agitated expression melt away into one of pleasure. Leona bucked his hips up towards you, slowly letting go of your collar as you teased his chest with your fingers. He attempted to speak again, but was silenced with a soft groan as you took one of your hands to pull at the buttons on his shirt. With more of his chest now exposed, you could see the dark colored peaks of his nipples. How they called to you with the hypnotic rise and fall of his chest. You brought your face closer, only to be stopped by Leona’s hand. His palm was pressed against your forehead, you could see his arm trembling. Almost as if he was silently begging you not to get any closer. His eyes looked watery, his face was burnt with hot blood, and Leona’s teeth were digging into his lower lip. “No?” You whispered curiously as your eyes met his. When they locked, he said nothing. Instead, he removed his hand from your head and threw his arm over his face. With his head now buried into the crook of his elbow, you took the chance to rub your tongue over his swollen bud.

A much higher pitched whine left his mouth, pressed deep into his elbow as you rolled your hips faster and teased his chocolate colored nipples. His tail was flicking excitedly as you dug your teeth into the sensitive bud with a soft hum. Licking. Sucking. Biting. It would soon be too much for the beastman as he wailed quietly into his elbow with his hips thrusting up into yours. His hand gripping your thigh squeezed harder and harder until that too crossed a line of unbearable. You winced in pain, digging your teeth into his skin and roughly pinching his nipple between your fingers. Leona yelped and pulled his hand away from your thigh and moved his arm away from his face. He looked at you with teary eyes and parted lips. You pulled your mouth away with your hands relaxing on his chest. You apologized with a sheepish smile. “Sorry.” You whispered and looked down at what you had done. His nipple that you sucked on was even more swollen, and now there was a ‘Herbivore’ sized bite mark surrounding his dark colored areola. His other nipple had been pinched, rubbed and teased into stiffening up like the other. Leona was silent and turned his face away from yours, his eyes shut with disapproval. “Are you pouting?” You spoke hardly above your whisper as Leona popped open an eye to look at you, before closing it and ignoring you again. 

You pressed a delicate kiss against his collarbone as an apology. His breath hitched as you lifted your head higher. This time, you bit him. Your teeth nipped and tugged at the skin along his jawline, soon after you would pepper soft kisses. Your hips raised themselves off of Leona, feeling the slick film from your wet folds coating his pants and possibly even staining them with a wet patch. You would have to properly apologize after this. 

Leona grumbled something as his hands slipped back over your thighs. His ears were flat as he turned his head towards you. You could see that Leona was still pouting, but him bucking his hips up to nudge his erection against your exposed pussy told you he was just ready to keep going. “At least kiss me.” He muttered under his breath with a sigh following. A kiss. The request was so innocent coming from someone as bold as Leona Kingscholar. It stunned you. A smile curled over your lips as you leaned over to kiss him, per his royal request. It was gentle, the feeling of your lips connecting and meshing together left a burning ache deep in your sex. The gentleness isn't permanent. And you were silently grateful for that. Leona’s hands left your thighs, his tongue pushed its way between your teeth and rubbed against yours. You could feel the scratchy texture of the papillae lining the muscle. How it scraped against your own much softer tongue and left you with clouded thoughts. You could taste the mint and lemon in his saliva. How it mixed with yours left you wanting to sit back down on his clothed crotch. But when you lowered your hips, something else greeted you. 

You pulled away from the kiss with wide eyes locked with Leona’s wet watery ones. He looked frustrated with you pulling away from the kiss and his hand again, grabbing the back of your neck. “What?” He growled in confusion as you tried lowering your hips again, only to feel a large mushroomy tip nudge against your labia. A soft ‘um’ left your lips as Leona peeked over your shoulder. His eyes scanned around before settling on his own hand and the ‘thing’ that was stopping you. A quiet hum filled the silence and then, Leona chuckled. “What? Scared of a lil’ dick Herbivore? With the way you pounced on me? I’m shocked.” His frown was twisted into a smug smile from the realization. You were intimidated and he knew it. You scowled and lifted a hand from Leona’s chest to reach between your thighs. “Not scared… Just surprised.” You mumbled as your fingertips brushed over Leona’s pelvic bones. You lowered your head into Leona’s chest with your cheek pressed comfortably against his heart. Listening to the steady beat as you felt around for where his dick began, and where it ended. You found the peach fuzz of his pubes, then his wrist, then his fingers, and then the soft velvety skin at the base of his cock. It was in fact: NOT a ‘lil’ dick’. It was big and felt heavy, just as when it was locked away behind its zipper and brief prison. Maybe bigger than what you assumed from rubbing against him. Your fingers slid over the skin, flinching away momentarily when your fingers trekked higher along his penis. There were barbs. Hard and small, lining his cock and the thick veins in a uniform pattern. All the way up his shaft until you reached the round, wet, mushroom shaped tip. 

Before you made it this far, you thought that there was no way you would want to stop. Leona is a beastman, of course his anatomy would be a little different. But this isn’t what came to mind. “Leona?” Your voice was smaller than what you would have liked, but it did catch the lion’s attention. “What? … It’s not that scary.” Leona could tell you were anxious about the differences in anatomy and one of his gloved hands slid over the plush fat of your ass. “Lower yourself a little more.” He instructed and you hesitated before doing what he asked. You lowered your hips slowly, feeling the burn in your thighs from having to hold the position. You were close enough now that Leona could slip the crown of his cock against the plush meat of your pussy. You struggled to swallow down a string of soft groans as he massaged his tip against the sensitive nerves in your swollen clit. “Do… Do they..?” You were struggling to speak as you felt him squeeze your ass in his palm. He had you lower your hips even more as the tip was engulfed in the burning depths of your cunt. “Does it hurt?” You asked in a meek and nearly breathless voice, trying to lift your head from his chest as Leona slowly pushed in the tip, then pulled it out.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

The rhythm was slow, almost as if he was trying to work you open without anyone’s fingers being involved. It left you dizzy and craving more. “Sex? It shouldn’t hurt.” Leona’s voice was quiet, like he was struggling to breathe. But with him only giving you the tip until you felt ready, the struggle to hold back was understood. “Not that. I mean… The spikes?” Your voice trailed off as you lacked the vocabulary to explain what you were worried about. Hopefully he understood your usage of ‘spikes’. He was quiet, thrusting the tip in and out with a low growl rumbling in his chest. “Spikes? The spines? No, they won’t hurt you.” He assured and slowed his shallow thrusts to a halt. He chuckled and pushed the tip inside, his other hand now resting on the other cheek. “They feel really, really good actually. You wanna feel it?” His voice was much softer, deep and husky as he lowered you onto his cock until you felt the dull drag of the barbs against your inner walls. A loud whine was pulled out of you from the new feeling. He held you there, hardly inside as your body trembled excitedly around his cock. With every breath you took and the longer he stayed inside, the closer you felt to an orgasm. That was until Leona lifted you off of him, and lowered you back onto his tip. The barbs dragging out of you caused a small gush of slick to pour from your pussy. The stimulation against your walls was like nothing you could imagine previously. The shallow thrusting of only the tip continued as you felt yourself clench hungrily at the tip of his cock.

“Again?” Leona whispered curiously and you nodded vigorously against his chest. With a soft groan of his own, you were lowered onto his barbed shaft, this time it was deeper. The feeling of the spines dragging against your walls made you want to scream in pleasure. To bounce on and ride him until you were given the gift of an orgasm. He was still, pulsing and throbbing inside of you as you struggled to stifle the sounds leaving your lips. Babbling and struggling to remain coherent as Leona swayed his hips. Right before pulling out of you. 

You were once the predator with Leona as your prey. And how the tables have turned.

“Leona.” Your voice was strangled as you tried to forcibly seat yourself on his lap. But you had forgotten how strong Leona was. The beastman held you in place as the tip nudged, kissed, and teased your pussy. The rhythmic thrusts made your stomach twist with excitement at what was bound to come next. “What? Something wrong?” Leona’s voice was airy, but still had the smug playfulness that would make begging him for more of his cock; extra embarrassing. “Please, please, please, please, please, please?” You begged in a pathetic voice, feeling the familiar scrape of the barbs against your labia. Scratching and teasing the folds until you were the one with watery eyes and a pouting expression. “Such a polite little Herbivore. You want it all then? All of my cock nice and deep inside you?” He asked with a low whisper and you nodded. Your hips shaking with sweat beading at your forehead. “Yeah? You do? Toldja it felt good. Didn’t I say that? Tell me.” He purred softly as he slowly lowered you onto his barbed shaft a final time. “You did. You said it- ah- won’t hurt.” You choked out a response with your hands clutching Leona’s white button up in your fists. “You believe me now?” The beastman asked as you let out a soft sob, feeling Leona push deeper. And deeper. His cock stretched you out in ways you could never achieve on your own. Better than any toy. Better than any human. “Believe you.” You groaned as he raised his hips this time. With a loud smack, he was fully sheathed inside of you. 

Throbbing. Pulsing. Twitching. 

You cried out with your hands flying to grip Leona’s shoulders as he remained deep inside of you. With each flex of his cock the barbs would press against your silky walls. This alone pushed you to the edge. You grit your teeth as you came, slick coated Leona’s pelvis, his pubes, and his heavy balls twitching against you. You struggled to speak, your head was spinning as your nails dug into his shoulders. Your walls twitched and squeezed around him as you fell limp against his body beneath you. “Already?” Leona sounded smug as his hand swatted at your butt once, twice, three times. A love tap as he shifted beneath you. “You’ll be addicted after this. I know it.” A growl vibrated in his chest as he held onto you with a firm grip and began to thrust. It was both rough and fast. Overstimulating you to tears and eyes rolling into your head. You had no time to collect yourself or even try to come down from the high of your orgasm. The moans and sobs that left you were that of ecstasy as Leona used you. The punch of his fat tip against the soft wall of your cervix left you squealing for more. The quick drag of his barbs against your inner walls felt as though the second-borne prince was demanding another orgasm from you. 

You cried out a jumbled mess of words that sounded something like ‘Leona’ and ‘Please’ but they were only music to fuzzy ears. The loud smacks of the beastmans hips connecting with yours made your mind fuzzy. Your body was weak and overstimulated from the previous orgasm. And soon to be second arriving. Was this a punishment for tricking him into eating those cookies? Did Leona secretly figure you out? And now you were being brutalized by the swift dragging of his spines in and out of you. “Cumming. Cumming- Gonna cum.” You whined as Leona nodded from beneath you. His thrusts were even deeper as your head started to spin. “S-Slow-” You begged, but that too was nothing more than music to fuzzy ears. “Leona I-” You gasped and felt his hands leave your ass. He was hugging you close to his body. He fucked roughly into you, leaving you a crying mess as something new was introduced. “Knot.” Leona growled and shifted beneath you again. Knot? What knot? The feeling of something round and thick appeared where the patch of velvet skin was vacant of barbs. Knot? Was that the knot?! You didn’t have enough energy or coherent ability to panic nor ask trivia questions about his anatomy. The ‘knot’ smacked against your folds as you struggled to breathe. You were going to cum, and thankfully so was Leona. Leona forced the muscle at the base inside as the two of you came undone together. 

A soft roar left Leona’s throat as you screamed into his chest from the second intrusion. Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the thick gush of sperm coating your insides an opalescent white, his tip pressed snug against your cervix. The thick seed mixed with your own juices, a lust cocktail that wanted to spill out of you if not for Leona’s knot in the way. The two of you were now boneless and spent with Leona still holding you tightly. “Herbivore?” Leona called out to you, but speaking was impossible. You shuddered and attempted to part your lips, but only an exhausted huff was given. Leona called your name this time, sounding concerned and you weakly nodded your head as proof you heard him. The beastman was quiet now, a hand rubbed gently over your sweaty back as he shook his head. “It can wait.” He whispered.

-♡- 

“Penile spines… Felines, especially domesticated cats are well-known for having them. Upon withdrawal of a cat's penis, the spines rake the walls of the female's vagina, which may serve as a trigger for ovulation…” You mumbled under your breath into the pages of the book with furrowed brows. You sat against the bookshelf with a book labeled ‘The Anatomy of Beasts’. It told you everything you would need to know about every beast and their evolved counterparts. After the lemon cookie fiasco two days ago, it was hard to look Leona in the eye. All that came to mind upon seeing him was the way he rearranged your guts and their functions. When he carried you back to Ramshackle, it took a solid thirty minutes to clean the sperm out of you and to have Ruggie bring him something to change into. You wanted to see him more. You wanted to speak with him more. 

You didn’t want to think about that being your only sexual encounter. And thankfully Leona seemed to feel the same way. Especially since he was sitting next to you napping as you read the book next to him.

[blue--ingenue]

soft!sebastian headcannons - Christmas edition

Author's Note: happy holidays to all who celebrate! i've been making decorations and gathering gifts for my friends, and these thoughts have been floating around and demanding that i write them down :)

when he was little his parents told him that Santa Claus put coal into the stockings of naughty children. a few days before Christmas he and Anne were playing gobstones when she beat him in record time, and he swears she cheated. his twin denied this, of course, but he decided to take justice into this own hands. after everyone had gone to bed, little Seb had toddled downstairs to the fireplace. his magic was beginning to come in spurts; there wasn’t enough of it to channel through a wand, but his power sensed what he was trying to do and obliged. he watched as a still-smoldering chunk of coal floated over to Anne’s stocking, plopped inside, and promptly set it ablaze. nobody was harmed in the incident, but his parents later dedicated hours charming every inch of the house to be fireproof

once, before he began officially courting you, he felt incredibly jealous on Christmas eve. the annual Slytherin holiday party had been raging for hours, and would continue for many more. you, Ominis, and Sebastian had settled onto a plush carpet before the fireplace with three mugs of eggnog spiked with cheap firewhiskey. Ominis drained half his mug in one go, and emerged with a sizeable foam mustache. he was either too drunk to notice, or didn’t care, but either way Sebastian teased him for it. his laughter quickly died off as you gently wiped the foam from his top lip and licked it from your finger. Ominis had the sense to blush profusely, but Sebastian had seethed

by the next Christmas you are several months along into your courtship. he works nightly shifts for Sirona for weeks to save up for your gift. it’s a beautiful locket made of goblin metal (he commissioned it from a goblin artisan Sirona had told him about. after fifth-year he felt ashamed of his prejudices against goblins and has been trying to better himself). he’s pasted a picture of himself inside, and the exterior has an intricate carving of the Sallow family crest

he is absolutely the type of guy to kiss you under every mistletoe within a five-foot radius. if there are none in sight, he’ll simply conjure some on the spot

he never wears a hat when it’s snowing. despite the fact that the Scottish winters are brutal and he runs the risk of catching a cold, he refuses. Ominis scolds him every time, but he thinks it’s worth it when you take the time to brush the snowflakes from his curls on your walks to Hogsmeade

he has a love-hate relationship with baking gingerbread cookies. the whole process feels too much like being in potions. his patience isn’t long enough for all the measuring, mixing, and waiting for the biscuits to bake. he’d much rather pilfer treats from the kitchens, but when he sees how excited you are he makes it his mission to like the infernal process. you’ve conjured a lovely little kitchen in the room of requirement, and he’s all too happy to enchant the piano in the corner to play Christmas melodies

he absolutely makes a mess and then chases you around the table with flour-covered hands

his favorite part is cutting the dough into shapes. your cookies are impeccable, an army of gingerbread mooncalves, snowmen, and nifflers waiting to be slid into the oven. he tries to shape his into hearts. they look alright at first, but after baking they’ve melded into a series of blobs. he’s about to tell you to throw them out when you delightedly exclaim that they look just like the little puffskeins you’ve been caring for. he calls the night a success and you fall asleep together in front of the fireplace with a now-empty cookie plate beside you

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.

.

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Taglist:@mlktea13, @mrsbrookesallow, @ithinkweallsing, @snickette, @crispywiz

[soft--cookie]

I'm offering holiday YCH comms! 🍪option A-couple $60 🍪options B & C $40 🍪paypal only! 🍪 human / humanoid / anthro characters! 🍪Open for these until December 13th! If interested please feel free to contact at softcookie.commissions@gmail.com!

[finniestoncrane]

🩷🍿 Finnie's 2k Follower Event 🍿💚

🩷💚🩷 EVENT NOW CLOSED 🩷💚🩷 hello and welcome to my silly little cinema 🩷💚🩷💚 this time around i've got options for moodboards, mini playlists, character pairings, and as always, ficlets and headcanons!! as always my little beloveds, read my rules, & send your requests in (and include reader's gender/pronoun/genital info where needed!) i don't know how many requests i'll do (edit: i'll be doing 50 requests for this event, there are still plenty of spaces!!) and i'll try to avoid similar prompts!! (normal requests are still open just now but i won't be writing them or posting them until after the event) along with the drabbles and headcanons, i'll also do a little giveaway of sorts with some commissions, so anyone who asks off anon will be included into a little draw for a free 500 word commission, and i'll pick some winners just to express how much love i have for you all ;-;💚 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2k (to follow or to block)

hi welcome to the cinema!! are you ready to purchase your tickets?

i'll let my date decide [tell me a bit about yourself for a character pairing!]

yes!! [please scroll for options and prompts!]

if you're not here for a date, please choose from the options below and let me know which character you want!! (pick literally any character from my "will write" list! 1 for x reader, 2 for ships)

no more requests for btaa!scarecrow or zero year!riddler, please! their egos will explode lmao

where would you like to be seated? (pick 1 option)

right in the middle [movie soundtrack - mini playlist based on the character]

aisle seat [movie poster - i'll make a little moodboard based on the character]

front rows [short fic/drabble - scroll for the next options!]

back rows [headcanons/short form - scroll for the next options!]

which genre of movie would you like to see? (pick 1)

science-fiction [smut/pwp]

horror [dead dove/something dark]

action [hurt/comfort - physical]

drama [hurt/comfort - emotional]

romantic comedy [tooth rotting fluff]

thriller [angst]

and what would you like in your snack box? (pick up to 3, also yeah whatever my theatre serves fries and burgers!!)

🥤 soda [praise kink]

🧋 bubble tea [posessiveness]

🧃 fruit juice [touch starved, tensing up when shown affection]

🍹 cocktail [acts of care]

🍷 wine [confessing feelings]

🍺 beer ["i didn't mean it... it was an accident"]

🍕 pizza slice [dry humping]

🍔 slider [begging]

🌭 hotdog ["they'd/you'd never feel that way about me"]

🌶️ nachos [comforting through a breakup while pining]

🍟 fries [pet play]

🥓 jerky [oral sex/rimming]

🍿 sweet popcorn [sex as a tension release]

🧂 salted popcorn [watching a movie together]

🧈 butter popcorn ["look at you, you're dripping all over yourself"]

🧀 cheese popcorn [rough sex]

🥨 pretzel [roleplaying]

🍩 donut ["i think i love you"]

🍪 chocolate cookie [biting/licking/sucking]

🌈 rainbow cookie [clumsy first kisses]

🧁 cupcake [cnc/noncon/dubcon]

🍎 fruit cup ["you're going to ruin me"]

🍫 chocolate bar [voyeurism]

🍬 candy ["keep your eyes open, i want you to look at me"]

🍭 lollipop [choking]

🍧 frozen yoghurt [blushing in front of your crush, who finds it cute]

🍨 sundae [blind date]

🍦 vanilla ice cream ["that feels nice... it feels right"]

🍌 banana ice cream [sitting in their lap]

🍑 peach ice cream [spanking/impact play]

🍒 cherry ice cream [a kiss, then a slap, then a returned kiss]

🍓 strawberry ice cream ["your hands are so soft"]

🌰 trail mix [facefucking/face riding]

🥜 peanuts ["you're doing such a good job"]

🧅 grilled onions ["i want to smell myself on you"]

🥒 pickles [humiliation/degradation]

🥬 slaw [memorising the scars/marks on their body]

🔴 ketchup ["you said you'd never be caught dead doing something like this"]

🟡 mustard [piss]

🟢 ranch [feeling safe enough to fall asleep in each others' arms]

🥛 sour cream [cockwarming]

🥚 mayo ["let me show you"]

[pastanest]

Daryl Dixon x she/her!reader

A/N: look at me going back to my roots! thank you ever so much to the lovely @noldorinpainter for giving me my first commission!! I really hope you love it! ♡

info on my commissions can be found here, or you can always drop me a message if you’re unsure of anything! :) 

Fateful Night

The smile on your face would be considered contagious, were anyone else roaming the streets of Alexandria at this time of night. There’s a spring in your step as your hands tap idly against the strap of your satchel across your front, excitement bursting at the seams just a little more with every step you take towards your destination. The path you walk and your intended plans for the rest of the night are both routine practices for you by now, you’re almost certain you could walk this route with your eyes closed.

Though he isn’t close enough to you yet for you to hear him speak, the words you know he’d say if he were close enough to hear your thoughts float through your mind like a soft gust of wind.

“Try walkin’ anywhere with yer eyes closed ‘n’ ya’ll slam into yer own front door, ‘n’ then I’ll be the one carryin’ yer ass to the infirmary.”

Suddenly, you are walking even faster.

By the time your hand reaches to push the hatch above you at the very top of the watchtower, you’re convinced the smile on your face is a permanent fixture.The hand that reaches for yours to help you climb the last rungs of the ladder enters your vision first, then the stubbled cheeks either side of a shy smile that its holder is trying his very best to hide under the shadow of his shaggy hair, before his other hand reaches to steady you at your waist as you stand in front of him.

Beaming up at your heart’s destination, stationed very coincidentally in your duty’s destination, you breathe a deep sigh of relief at the sight of him. “Evenin’ handsome!”

Scoffing bashfully, Daryl drops your hand and waist, strolling over to the edge of the tower and slumping down to dangle his legs in the night sky. “Yer late.”

You roll your eyes at the perfect waves at the back of his head. “Yeah, yeah, I know, but for good reason!”

Practically skipping over to him, you drop to the floor and kick your legs over the edge beside his, bringing your satchel to your lap. Feeling his infamous side-eye on you, you open the bag slowly for dramatic effect, taking your time in revealing the tupperware filled with chocolate chip cookies. Continuing your theatrics, you make a grand gesture of dropping the box onto Daryl’s lap.

“Special delivery from Carol!” 

Daryl huffs, feigning disapproval at your peace offering and already coming up with his next sassy remarks as he pops the lid of the tupperware and stuffs the first cookie in his mouth.

“Jus’ ‘cause I’m eatin’ this don’t mean I forgibe you.” He comments, crumbs flying from his lips with his slurred words.

At first, when you reach for a cookie, Daryl pretends to snatch the box from you, but the pretend-shock on your face brings that same soft smile back to his face as he offers you the tupperware.

Taking a cookie, your gaze stays locked with his, and you nudge his shoulder with yours. “Oh, little bird, I know you do.”

“...Shut up.” He grumbles shyly, voice gruff as ever but laced with a tenderness only you can detect.

Settling into the silence, the two of you stare out into the night, at the tree tops that neither of you can ever truly reach, but daydream about flying over together. Though it is yet to be determined whether Daryl Dixon truly is telepathic,, you are convinced that the moment you are close enough for him to see you, he can read your thoughts clearer than you can read the words behind his eyes that he never quite knows how to say. 

Absentmindedly, your head falls against his shoulder. An echo of the grin that was previously on your face lingers between warm cheeks, unable to withhold the simultaneous giddiness and inner peace that your best friend’s presence provides. So often you find yourself itching to probe his mind, ask him what he thinks about anything and everything, the most random things in the world that don’t matter at all, but his opinion on them and the further insight into him that provides is worth its weight in gold to you. 

Consequently, it’s never long before you break any silence you share.

“Do you ever think about the day we met?” You ask him, smile already widening at the thought. Despite how terrifying certain aspects of the ordeal were, his involvement covers even the worst in sugar. 

“Sometimes.” Daryl answers. “D’you?”

You nod, brushing his shoulder. “Yeah, sometimes.” Hearing his gentle, unspoken question to elaborate, you continue. “I think about how crazy it is that you saved my life that day, a total stranger, and how that has led to moments like this. I can never wrap my head around that.”

Daryl laughs softly. “Is pretty crazy.”

You chuckle with him. “Yeah.” Another second of comfortable silence passes before you speak up again. “What do you think, when you think about the day we met?”

Daryl considers this question and his answer carefully. He debates whether to give a heartfelt, sincere response, or whether to poke the bear. Considering the smirk on his face that is just out of your line of sight, he already knows the answer.

“That yer the same short ass now as ya were then.”

Lifting your head from his shoulder, you meet his gaze with an expression that he treasures. Jaw dropped, pure mischief and shock etched in your every feature. You let it linger, lull him into a false sense of security, and then you strike. Tickling him mercilessly until he’s giggling like a schoolgirl, you end up leaning over him as he falls to his back on the watchtower floor, your legs and his still dangling in the open air, the tupperware of cookies safely pushed out of the warzone. 

“Alright, alright- damn, woman! I surrender!” He pleads for his life in between gasps and the loudest laughs anyone could hope to bring from a man like Daryl Dixon.

Settling back into a calm, seated position, like you had not just offloaded a truly brutal attack on your favorite person, you clasp your hands out in front of you to click your fingers in a boastful gesture of your victory over a man that could kick your ass if he was blindfolded, handcuffed, shirtless, and- wait, where was this train of thought going?

“What’re you thinkin’ about, crazy girl?” Daryl asks as he catches his breath and sits up beside you.

And you have never been more grateful that he is not actually telepathic. “Tell me the truth: what do you really think, when you think about the day we met?”

He clears his throat, sitting up a little straighter and considering his answer carefully again. This time, he decides to be a little more honest with you, and himself.

“Guess I think most about bein’ glad I was there when I was.”

You nod slowly, understanding his sentiment and agreeing with him wholeheartedly. Had he not been there, you have no idea what would have happened to you that night.

Staring out at the trees ahead and below you, your mind so easily slots into the panicked memory of that very night, when you’d been on the ground in the dark just like this, running through forests that looked as dense and impossible to navigate as the ones the walls - and your favorite person - keep you safe from, now. 

You were alone, had been for longer than you could remember. Too much time had passed since the world ended, you felt you were living borrowed time and something like guilt tugged at you for not being able to keep track of it. Birthdays were a thing forgotten, but so were the simpler guides that weekdays and weekends provided, the routine of mornings and evenings; you slept when you could and never had time to check whether the sun was rising or setting. Your complete lack of survival skills left you surprised to have lived as long as you had, but you knew how to run; something that the dead could not match you on, no matter their numbers. In the world before, being on the shorter side gifted you with playful - and overplayed - taunts, but in the decaying world you ran through, your very existence was discrete. Being alone was better, having nothing to lose was easy, and surviving was all you had.

You didn’t have time to eat full meals, to maintain a sleep schedule, or to think about what you were living such a life for; the person you were and the purposes your life had were ghosts that followed you wherever you went, much like the dead.

Despite the fact that interacting with the living would have, possibly, improved your quality of life, you avoided people more than you did the reanimated ones. If ever you heard someone speaking a single word, you would turn and run in the opposite direction as fast as you could, even if it meant going back the way you came. People without rules to keep them from doing what they wanted in an empty world were far scarier than sluggish corpses.

That night, you had stopped running to catch your breath, tiptoeing as best you could and using your hands to feel the trees as your guide. Drawing attention to yourself with any form of light was not an option. Unfortunately at the time, but fortunately in the long run, you crossed paths with a tracker skilled enough to feel the indents of your boots in the soil and know a living person was not far ahead. Aware of the group he was with and the rules they had enforced amongst themselves, the tracker distanced himself from the group to catch up with whoever was creating an individual trail through the woods at night. 

Eventually, he caught up with you, managing to sneak around you to shine a torch in your face and stun you momentarily. If you had been able to focus, you would have seen the strangest expression flash across his features, before he looked behind you to the rest of the group that was fast approaching. Not wanting to partake in their way of doing things, but fearing your fate if he didn’t, he yelled out a single word.

“CLAIMED!”

While the others approached, he took a slow step towards you and lowered his torch slightly, holding your gaze. Something in his eyes calmed you, keeping you in place.

“‘m sorry, I had to, you don’ wanna know what they’d do if I didn’t. Jus’ stick with me, I’ll get you some place safe.” He whispered to you, and you nodded frantically, moving to his side before the rest of the group reached you.

To your horror, every other member of the group was a seedy looking man that shone their torches on you and stared at you with animalistic hunger in their eyes on discovering you were, in fact, a woman. You shrunk behind the one man that wasn’t treating you like a creature in a zoo with no means of hiding away from their greedy eyes, pressing their ugly faces against the glass that you wished truly stood between you and them, even if the barrier added very little protection for you, in reality. 

“Damn, you got yourself a fine piece of ass there, new guy.” One of the men snickered, licking his lips as he tried to peak around the wall of a man that stood between you. 

“Well, as she’s been claimed, we’d best find a place to set up camp for the night, give Daryl the time alone with his prize!” A grey haired man, who presented himself as the leader of the group, motioned around and the men split off in different directions, all laughing amongst themselves as they searched for a structure of some kind to spend the night in.

All, except for the man you had come to know as Daryl, who stood firmly in front of you. He stayed there, silent and motionless, eyes fixed on the leader of the group, who just grinned back at him.

Eventually, one of the group called out to the rest to alert them of an empty barn he’d found in a clearing that connected to some abandoned farm on the outskirts of the forest. You and Daryl trailed behind the rest as they headed inside, but the leader refused to enter unless you two went ahead. His breath on your neck still haunts your nightmares.

The men settled amongst themselves and didn’t bother you as much as you expected, as long as you tuned out their lines of sight, which burnt holes through every part of your body. You knew nothing of the group or the individuals, but you could read the dynamic clear as day: none of the men wanted to test Daryl, and you were certain you would be in a far worse position had one of them “claimed” you before he could. On that basis, and considering your instincts, you trusted him from the get go.

You didn’t know how long you would be stuck with that group, or with Daryl, so you absorbed every piece of information you could. Daryl was the silent type, that much was clear; you didn’t want to bother him with questions, so instead you just watched him. Watched as he “claimed” some bails of hay and placed them down in a corner and gestured for you to sit on them, before telling you that you could sleep, and you realized quite suddenly that despite his obvious disliking towards having to “claim” things and people to get by, he did so to provide you with a bed. A courtesy he did not stretch to himself as he stood in front of you, with his back to you.

Not wanting to come across as ungrateful and not knowing what else to do, you settled onto the bail of hay and made yourself as comfortable as you could, curling into yourself to conceal as much of your body as possible. Just as you closed your eyes, a man called over to you from the other side of the barn.

“HEY, PRETTY LADY, WANT A DRINK?”

Jumping out of your skin, you salt bolt upright and cleared your throat, managing a small, awkward smile. “N-No, thank you, I dont drink.”

The man on the other side of the barn laughed and rolled his eyes. “Oh, c’mon, everybody drinks these days!”

Before you could answer, Daryl stepped forward. “She said she dont. Leave it, man.” 

Though he didn’t raise his voice, his tone was firm enough to shut the man up where he stood, and you watched as he avoided Daryl’s scowling eyes. His words weren’t objectively a threat, but everything about the strength he radiated and his obvious lack of care towards whether a fight happened or not, could seemingly make any man opposite him shrink in their boots. 

The small smile on your face changed then, fixing on the waves at the back of his head as you settled back into the hay.

“Thank you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, you wondered if he had even heard you, until he replied a few seconds later.

“Don’ mention it.”

And for the rest of the night, he stood there in front of you, with his back to you. A human shield.

Chuckling lightly to yourself, you shake your head in disbelief, looking at the man beside you who hasn’t changed in the years you’ve known him, you just know him beyond that intimidating surface level by now. 

“You defended me so fiercely when we’d only just met, I always wondered why.”

Daryl frowns down at you. “Ya never asked.”

You shrug. “I didn’t want to pry.”

Daryl scoffs, rolling his eyes at you. “Never stopped ya before.”

Gasping in mock-offence, you nudge his shoulder with yours again. “Shut up!” 

The two of you share a lighthearted laugh at that, something that you would have thought was lost to the world before, had you never met Daryl. 

“Seriously, though, why did you stick up for me so much on the drinking thing?” You question

“Ya tol’ me ya’d had a bad first experience drinkin’...”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know that then. Plus, you’re not exactly the type to jump to defend someone you’ve just met on something that was so minor- especially back then, before you’d grown into the softie you are now!” That last comment is a lighthearted one, one that you expect to bring another scoff or chuckle from the gruff sweetheart at your side, and usually it would.

Tonight, though, he stays silent, staring off into the night. You start to wonder if he even heard you, and his next question does little to reassure you on that.

“How old were you, firs’ time ya got drunk?”

You blink rapidly, processing a question you had definitely not been expecting.“19, why?”

At that, Daryl closes his eyes in a pained blink, lowering his head in shame and holding the edge of the platform with both hands. “‘m sorry.”

You frown, unable to decode your favourite person for the first time in longer than you can remember. “What for?”

His hair hangs over his eyes, hiding them from you and keeping the unsaid out of reach from you. “Not tellin’ you before.”

Trying to keep the conversation lighthearted, not wanting Daryl to get upset over something that you are certain is not worth feeling this bad about, you laugh airily. “Can you stop the cryptic-brooding shit for a second? What are you talking about?!”

Daryl sighs, lifting his head and tipping his nose up to the stars. You can see them reflecting in the stormy Georgia skies within his eyes, and he parts his lips to speak.

Alcohol had not been kind to you, that was what you had thought that night. On reflection, when out with a group of school friends, all of you having purchased fake ID’s and arrived at a bar outside of town to avoid being recognised as the 19 year olds you were, eight shots deep of straight vodka was, perhaps, not the best idea for your first experience with alcohol. 

No building had ever felt more cramped in your life, all of your senses were completely overwhelmed. You couldn’t hear yourself think, not that you were capable of a coherent thought at the time, but everyone was talking so loudly and it was like your ears couldn’t understand your own language anymore. The song playing was one you recognised, but when you tried to bob your head to the beat, you were horribly out of time, your brain delayed because it was swimming in vodka. It was all too much, so to the best of your ability, you took hold of a friend’s shoulder and told her you were going outside to get some air. Whether you actually managed to speak a word of that is yet to be confirmed, none of your friends were sober enough to even notice you’d left the bar. 

You didn’t see anyone else as you stumbled out into the parking lot, you were focussing all of your energy on the ground beneath you, because your shoes were not reaching it in the speed you expected and you were determined not to trip over your own feet. Only a few paces from the door, a man’s voice called out to you.

“Hey there, pretty lady, you comin’ my way?” He had asked sleazily, but the time it took for you 

to process his question was apparently long enough for him to assume your answer.

He swaggered over to you and swung an arm around your waist, tugging you to his side. Frowning in confusion and discomfort, you conjured every ounce of strength you had and smacked your palms against his chest in an effort to get away from him. His grip on your waist tightened.

“‘EY, THE HELL YOU DOIN’?” Another voice reached your ears then, sounding miles away and possibly underwater at first, but eventually making sense as you pieced together his words.

“Easy, man, I’m just taking my girl home.” The grip on your waist replied, and you frowned harder, lifting your hand to point accusingly.

“I am NOT yours, sunshine! I, am a FREE WOMAN!” You declared, words slurring together, but you hoped you got your point across regardless.

Much to your relief, the voice in front of you seemed to understand the situation perfectly. “Like she said, she aint yers, and she’s barely standin’, so the hell you think yer doin’ with ‘er?” His accent was thicker than the grip on your waist’s was, you noticed.

You couldn’t process what happened next, it was all too quick. The grip on your waist was gone and the two men argued, raising their voices at each other, until suddenly one of them punched the other, forcing him to the ground. Without the grip on your waist, you collapsed onto the tarmac, landing on your side and smacking your head against the ground, hard. 

The accent reached your ears again, but it was much more difficult to understand.

“Hey, hey, ya alright? C’mon, we gotta get you sittin’ up at least.” 

One hand held yours, while the other steadied you at the small of your back, both of them were so gentle you could hardly feel them, but they were strong enough to catch you if you were to fall again.

He led you over to a bench outside the bar and sat you down on it, then crouched down in front of you. The pain in your head suddenly pulsed. 

“Ow!”

The accent, much softer then, was quick to apologize for touching the wound on your head too harshly when checking it. “Sorry, didnt mean t’ hurt you. Anyone inside that knows you, can take ya home?”

Everything was spinning and nodding in response to his question made it a lot worse. “My friends are in there, I think.”

The accent spoke again, you tried as hard as you could to retain his words and piece together the sentence. “Alrigh’, I’m gonna go get ‘em, wha’s yer name?”

You had to think about it for a second. “(Y/N)...who’re you?”

The gentle hand was on your shoulder for just a second. “Don’ matter. You stay here, I’ll be back in jus’-”

A third voice entered the conversation, not the one belonging to the grip on your waist from before, which made the whole ordeal far too confusing for you to comprehend.

“THE FUCK YOU THINK YER DOIN’?” His accent was the thickest of all.

And then, it was another blur. All you remember is the man turning his back to you, acting as your huma shield while another man fought the grip on your waist.

Police sirens and lights overwhelmed your senses after that.

The accents yelled at each other, before the softer voice turned back to you.

“I gotta go, but you take care o’ yerself, alright?”

With that, he was gone. Your friends had to fill in the blank of the rest of the night for you the next day, explaining that they had grabbed you before the cops came and you all got out of there before they arrived, narrowly avoiding being caught out with your fake ID’s, but completely losing track of the man that had saved you in the process.

“Merle ‘n’ me were movin’ from place to place then, had a habit of pullin’ up to any bars we could find an’ I’d sit outside while he went in and stole bottles from anyone too drunk to notice ‘em disappearin. He’d bring ‘em back outside, we’d drink ‘em, then do it again ‘til he got drunk an’ sloppy an’ I’d have to pull him out of some fight with whoever caught him stealin’.” Daryl explains. “I was standin’ outside that bar, watchin’ that door, waitin’ for ‘im when you stumbled out, an’ I could see you were too drunk to be by yerself. When that asshole tried t’...” He trails off, feeling his blood boil in his veins at the memory. “Merle came out o’ the bar right as that prick got up and was gonna come at me from behin’, so Merle tackled him, smashed the bottle in his hand against the guy’s head. Bar owner called the cops, there was blood everywhere- the guy lived, we saw him aroun’ a month or so later at the same bar- but Merle was wanted for a whole list o’ shit and couldn’t risk the cops catchin’ him again, so we had t’ run.”

You stare at him, eyes wide like a deer in headlights, or like they were the first night you thought you’d met when he shone a torch in your face.

“It was you.”

The words passing your lips sound impossible, even after he has perfectly recalled a story you never told him with details you couldn’t recall, a memory you never knew you shared.

“‘m sorry.” He mumbles, unable to look at you for fear of the betrayal on your face for keeping this a secret from you for so long.

But you are still in disbelief, trying to wrap your head around the fact that the end of the world brought you back to your hero. 

“This whole time, you never said.”

Daryl shrugs. “Always sorta hoped you’d forget the whole night. The guy, most of all.” He confesses, having thought of you a few times in between that night and the night he found you again, always hoping that you had forgotten and been able to move on. Whether you chose to drink again after that, he always hoped you were able to live without fear and enjoy each night as it came. He didn’t have any reason to consider that you deserved any less.

“Regrettably, that was the main part that stuck with me.” You admit, feeling your own shame consume you.

Daryl nods. “I know.”

You shake your head, swallowed by the guilt. “I’m so sorry I didn’t remember you, everything was such a blur that night- I can remember the guy grabbing me, but even his face I wouldn’t recognise if he was in front of me. By the time you spoke to me close enough for me to see and hear you, my head was pounding. God, I’m so sorry that I’ve never remembered you!”

Only then, can Daryl bring himself to look at you, and it’s to frown at you in total confusion.

“Don’ gotta apologize for nothin’, aint yer fault.”

You rub your face with your hands, knowing that he’s right but still feeling terrible about it and knowing that, in your own way, you’ll make it up to him. You have to. How many times has he wanted to tell you? How many times has he thought about that night? What does he think of, when he remembers it? Has he sat alone with his thoughts and felt sad that you haven’t ever recognised him, have never pieced that it was his face right in front of you that night? What if-

“‘ey, stop that.” Those same gentle hands, feeling more familiar than ever, take yours away from your face and bring them to your lap, but don’t let them go. 

Meeting your eyes, he calms the sea of overwhelming thoughts that had been swallowing your mind. In the midst of peace returning, a moment of clarity finds you, and you smile at him.

“Now that I know who my hero was that night, I can say what I always wanted to say!”

Seeing your spirits visibly left, Daryl smiles back at you. “Wha’s that?”

Leaning forward, you plant a soft kiss on his left cheek. Instead of pulling away immediately, you linger there to whisper the words your heart has been singing to him since the day you met, and the day you met again.

“Thank you.”

The moonlight prevents you from being able to see the dusting of pink that covers Daryl’s cheeks in the wake of your kiss, the first kiss you’ve ever given him.

“Sweet girl, ya’ve never gotta thank me for nothin’.”

Resting your head back on his shoulder and releasing a deep breath, you smile out into the night and squeeze his hands.

“You know as well as I do, that’ll never stop me.”

__________

taglist:

@ruinedbythehobbit @iamburdened @evilbabyelf @of-storms-and-sadness @crossbowking @spidergirla5 @jodiereedus22 @thanossexual @captain-shannon-becker @cordialgargoyle @romanoffs-bitch @daryldixonandfrogs @just-always-tired @pillowjj @the-musical-doodle @likeablevillain @irrelevantyettopicalusername @notquitecannon @alyisdead @polkadottedpillowcase @twdeadfanfic @wishingtobeforeveryoung1994 @sigynlokiem @courtnytrash04 @thatwrestlingfan91 @buttsology @prettylittleblog13 @milariskanavasi @whatanicepanohthatsjustme @your-new-mom @daryls-angell @lilzebub @amaroho @bakedcrispss @yes-sir-hotchner @wasted-years @kpopandharry @madshelily @datidixon @dumandbass @savageneversaw

[missamyrisa2]

"Aww ~ does it tickle so bad hun? You were such a tough guy when we started ~ what happened, huh? Did it tickle? Does it feel so good when I tickle you on your royal rod like this with my nice soft feather? Does that tiiiickle? Awww yeah it does. I know, I know. It tickles mmhmm. I think my feather tickles your ticklish parts and your belly bounces so sweet when I squeeze here oh yes it does~ Coochie coooo ~ you can't not laugh. You're so sexy like this cutie pie, I could just tease you all night and I think I miiight ~ do you feel my soft outfit on your ticklish skin? Yeahh? ~ where's my tough guy? Where's my I'm not ticklish that doesn't ticklish guy? All I see is a ticklish cutie crumbling like a sweet cookie now yes I dooo ooh yes I dooo ~ yes ticklish squirmy boy, ticklemama's got you mmhmm~ don't try to fight it, now that's just gonna make it worseee ~ ooh look at how hard that's getting ~ now now now don't get all dramatic. It's just tickles, babydoll. 'Ooh, oh my god' aww so sweeet. Ooh yes, oh nooo ~ uhh oh uh ohhhh ~ what's gonna happen what's gonna happen huh? Tickle, tickle, tickle ~ awww poor babehhh~ you just let it allll out for your Amy ticklemama we'll get all those giggles and big ticklish feelings out mmhmm ~<3"

Another commission from the amazing talented asiridraws/ @crimsonkingg22

And this one is kind of a big deal ~~~ I've had a lot of artwork commissioned over the years but I've never had one done with me as the tickler. Part of that is because though I teaseeee and tease so much, I am always a ticklee at heart. I probably deserve those tickles anyway ~ but also I've been waiting for an artist with the right style to really capture how I tickle~

Link to the deflowered version: Does it tickle so bad, hun (deflowered) by MissAmyRisa on DeviantArt

[xmalereader]

Simon Riley X Male Reader

-

|| Masterlist ||

-

Authors Note: Another Baker dad shot!! 😩 This is is full of fluff and possibly leaning more towards readers son and Simon bonding with each other. I might make more of these shots since I freakin love the idea of Simon falling in love with a sweet baker who’s a single father but also amazing and Simon would do anything for them.

Summary: Simon offered his help at the bakery, growing closer to the owner of the bakery along with his teen age son who’s grown fond of Simons presences.

Warnings: Fluff, pinning, slow burn, Simon wearing an apron, slight angst, mentions of abuse, trauma, childhood memories, mentions of death and war. Simon is slowly becoming a father himself.

Word count: 2k

—

—

Simon didn’t think he’d end up on the other side of the counter, wearing a black apron while helping out a young teenager with baking and drinks. After Y/n’s first wedding cake commission he started to get more, too many that he was booked for the whole month. The poor single father was busy waking up at early hours and getting ready to bake while his son woke up a few hours later and dealt with opening up the shop and taking orders from cranky college students.

Simon had noticed the struggle the two had been going through the last few days that Simon volunteered to continue helping. He’d helped Alex open up a few times and that was it. He didn’t do any baking or take any orders, he simply got his usual and left earlier than he usually did since he didn’t want to keep the two distracted from all the busy mornings and afternoons. He had told Y/n that he could help Alex for a bit until Y/n had gotten all of his orders completed and on time, the other man had broken down in tears of joy, hugging a surprised Simon. Y/n had been stressed for days that having Simon step in and help caused him to break down.

Y/n had offered to pay Simon for his help but Simon rejected his payments, telling him that he’d rather take his food and drinks as payment since he was doing this out of the kindness of his heart. The baker knew that he couldn’t force simon to take the money and agreed to his terms, smiling widely at the idea of getting extra help.

Simon was only suppose to help for a short period of time. That time extended for a week, then two, until he finally realized that he was there for almost two months, helping Alex with the shop while Y/n continued with his separate duties. After his last commission, more people began to recommend his bakery and goods. Which kept the man busy constantly.

During his time at the bakery he usually stayed in the back room, away from the public since he didn’t want to frighten any of the students or any other neighbors that came by the shop. Simon wasn’t a baker but, Y/n had taught him how to do simple pastries while Alex handled the much harder ones that took time and effort to make. His time alone with Alex gave him the advantage to know the teen a bit more, learning about his childhood and how Y/n came to adopt him. The both of them had a similar past, filled with abuse and loneliness.

Alex had told Simon that Y/n fought for custody, taking him away from his old home and into a new one. One that gave him a proper childhood that he lacked along with love that he never got as a child. Y/n had taken very good care of Alex and raising him on his own, even though he was very young for a parent that didn’t stop Y/n from spending time with Alex.

Simon had gained a soft spot for the kid, keeping a close eye on him each time the bakery got full and busy. He’s seen the kid deal with rude customers and didn’t hesitate to fight back, calling them out on their rudeness and the way they treated other customers. Alex had once blown up on an old cranky lady who’d snapped her fingers at him and yelling at him for being slow and how her drink was bitter or the fact that her cookie was cold.

Alex was ready to climb over the counter and tackle the lady, yelling at her that he owned the damn place when she requested to speak with someone in order to file a complaint. Simon had stepped in when things grew escalated, his presences had shut the women up, fear in her eyes when he stared down at her with cold eyes. Simon wasn’t polite when someone was treating the people he cared about poorly, he instead leaned down to the women and calmly tells her to leave the bakery and that she was holding up the line, blaming her for holding back orders and causing the food to go cold. His bluntness cashed the women to leave in a hurry without saying another word, she never showed her face again. Ever since Simon at

After helping the bakery, everyone knew not to mess with either Alex or Y/n or else they face the bigger man.

When the third month hit. The university students who’d visited every day had grown used to Simons presences, their sudden fear of the taller man vanished and would usually greet him with small voices before sitting down and focusing on their work.

Y/n enters the shop after returning back from another wedding that was hosted outside of town. When the bell of the front entrance rings, the two look up from their duties to see Y/n with a wide smile on his face. Alex is the first to jump over the counter, tackling Y/n into a hug. “You’re back! How was the wedding?”

Y/n chuckles. “Oh, this a wedding was wild.” He wiggles his brows as they approach the counter where Simon stood, cleaning a few mugs. “What kind of Wild?” Alex asks.

“Well,” Y/n removed his jacket and makes his way around the counter. “Turns out that the groom was actually cheating on the bride.” Alex’s eyes widen in disbelief. “What—?!”

“That’s not all.” Y/n continues, side stepping Simon as he takes one of the clean aprons and slips it on. “Not only was the groom cheating but he invited the mistress to his wedding.” He whispers.

Simon sets the clean mug down with the rest, looking over his shoulder as he listened to both father and son gossip about the wedding. He’d grown to listen into their conversations and neither of them minded his ease dropping.

“Holy shit!”

“Language!” Y/n scolds the teen. “Anyways, it was a mess. The bride knew and showed video proof to the entire party and things just got worse, the parents got involved and stuff was thrown until the police got involved. I didn’t stay much longer and quickly left before I got involved.” He shrugs his shoulders. “This wouldn’t be my first disaster wedding that I’ve witnessed.” Simon had handed him an empty mug, which he takes and used it to make his own coffee.

“Enough about me, what about you two? Did everything go well while I was gone?” Y/n leans against the counter as he waits for his coffee.

Simon speaks up first, cutting Alex off from rambling away. “Alex nearly lit the place on fire.”

“—I did not!” Alex shouts back, glaring at Simon. “In my defense I forgot about the cakes because it was busy, you were in the back all day and could’ve easily turned off the oven.” He shot back.

“I was busy finishing up the blackberry cakes that you requested since they ran out.” Simon smiles under his mask. “The place burning down would still be your fault.”

Alex groans in frustration, going over the counter again as he stands next to Simon. Y/n softly smiles to himself, listening to the two argue with each other as he focused on his coffee, taking a small sip before turning back around. “Alright, that’s enough. We should get back to work.” He orders the two.

“Yes, sir.” Simon responds back and makes his way to the back to continue with the rest of the baking while Y/n stays up front to help Alex. While the duo worked up front, Y/n with making drinks and Alex taking orders, it didn’t take long for the place to grow calm. Only a few students were around since the semester was ending majority of them were either back in their dorms studying or working in the library near campus.

“I’m going to check on Simon, think you’ll be alright with taking the orders?” Y/n questions his own son who laughs at him. “Hm, I took care of the place on my own for the last few days without you. I think I can handle a few hours on my own.”

Y/n rolls his eyes, flicking Alex on the forehead. “I know you can, still asking.” He shakes his head with a laugh before heading to the back to find Simon focusing on finishing the macaroons. Y/n stood quietly as he watched Simon work, tilting his head to the side as his chest is filled with warmth at the sight of the bigger man focusing on such small pastries. How can a man who looked so scary and intimating look adorable while baking?

“Is that a new batch?” Y/n asks, approaching Simon who looks up. “Alex wanted me to make more, they’ve been getting sold out very quickly.” His response is soft, eyeing the macaroons that he’s finished so far. Y/n smiles, shifting closer to Simon as he clears his throat. “I just want to let you know that I appreciate you helping me here…at the bakery. You’ve been here for three months, having to deal with Alex for awhile even though he can be a bit sarcastic and rude.” He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing up to Simon. “So, thank you for everything.”

Simon stares down at the baker. A soft smile on his lips as he too nods at him. “You are welcome, for everything.” He’d leaned closer to the baker, hand twitching on the table, antsy to reach up and touch his face and feel the smooth skin under his fingertips. Being around the baker had caused him to grow feelings that he’d never thought he’d ever get, not after everything he’s been through. How could a baker like Y/n like someone like him? His hands were covered in blood from all the people he’s killed when he was in the military, all the horror and death he saw during his time away stopped him from pushing his feelings. He didn’t know how the baker would react if he knew about his past life and work and so, he keeps his hand still and instead grips the counter.

“I should—probably put these to bake.” Y/n mumbled, pointing at the finished macaroons as Simon moves to give him space, taking the tray in hand and watching Y/n head further into the baker and towards the oven room. Simon sighs to himself and removes his gloves, tossing them in the trash and making his way to the front to check up on Alex. Before he can step outside he hears Alex talking to a young university student.

“—I took notice that it usually gets busy here, do you hire by any chance? I think you’re father would need the extra help.” The girl said to Alex as the teen focused on making a few coffee orders. “We’ve handled worse days.”

“Still, are you by any chance hiring?” The girl on the other side batted her lashes at Alex which he ignored. Too focused on his task as he responds back. “We aren’t hiring, it’s a family business by the way.”

The girl frowns. “Family business? Then why did you hire the tall guy with the creepy mask?”

Alex hands the girl her coffee, giving her a forced smiled. “Like I said, it’s a family business and he’s apart of it.” With that the girl takes her drink and leaves with a scoff.

Simon was standing on the other side of the door the whole time, listening into Alex’s conversation as he stood still. Even though Simon has only been helping for a few months he didn’t think that his bond with Alex depended enough for the teen to claim him as family. Simon didn’t have anyone else and to hear the kid say those words warmed his heart.

[mercy-love-joy]

Shrimp Har Gow Cookie

SPOILERS FOR THE ENDING OF "THE BURNS MELTED INTO GOLD" AND IN SICKNESS AND NEVER IN HEALTH AU

This little Haetae is a centaur of a rare kind! While she does still act as a guardian, her Papa says that she needs to finish her academics before she becomes a fearsome Haetae guardian of the Kingdom.

Shrimp Har Gow Cookie (or Shrimp Har Gow Dumpling Haetae Cookie) is the adopted daughter of the Pharaoh. She was created and born via the same methods used to create Cloud Haetae Cookie and the Dumpling Kings. But the only problem was that she was born sickly, the Pharaoh took her under his wing (literally) and nursed her back to health.

Upon seeing the Pharaoh, the little centaur Haetae called him "Papa" and it was sealed.

She is currently enrolled in her homeschooling thanks to her grand uncles and aunts but she has also been begging to attend Parafedia School of Magic for friends. You don't get to have a lot of friends as the Princess of the Kingdom of Soft Sun Rays. Maybe she'll get her wish granted if she uses her "Haetae puppy eyes"

(Original art was made by WereRaven in a commission. Thank you @the-wereraven