#specially apple cinnamon is not my thing

[jjungkookislife]

try froot loops!

I forgot about froot loops tbh I like those too 👀

[bamfkeeper]

Autumn activities with Kurt~

I love fall, I'm a hugeee Halloween lover so I am feeling very excited that it's August. Anyway here's some fun things to do with Kurt for the fall. This might seem a little different from my usual writing, I wrote this over two days so I came back to it several times.

Warnings: Gender neutral reader, unedited lol

WC: 2.6k

"Come on, Kurt, I don't wanna miss out!" you exclaimed, tugging him along enthusiastically. Your smile widened as you both walked down the picturesque path towards the beloved local farm. You were absolutely thrilled because the farm had already set up the intricate corn maze, which was one of your favorite seasonal attractions. In addition to the maze, they were offering delightful hay rides that meandered through the scenic landscape of the farmland and offered fresh ciders brewed by the farmers.

The farm was also bustling with activity as they sold a variety of pumpkins, crisp apples, and other delicious fruits that were all locally grown and freshly harvested. The entire atmosphere was filled with the excitement of the fall season, and you couldn't wait to explore every bit of it.

"Ja, ja, I can teleport us there too, liebe!" Kurt said with a playful grin, stumbling along with your enthusiastic tug. He tried his best to keep up with your eagerness, his heart swelling with affection. Kurt loved seeing your smile, how it stretched over your entire face, lighting up your eyes as you got to experience something that genuinely made you happy. The joy you radiated was infectious, and he cherished every moment he got to share in your excitement. It was in these moments that he felt closest to you, connected by the pure happiness that seemed to envelop you both.

You arrived at the farm, and a wave of excitement washed over you. The farm's distinctive scent filled the air, perfectly capturing the essence of fall. It was a comforting and familiar smell that you had dearly missed since last year. As you took in the surroundings, vibrant autumn colors painted the landscape, leaves crunching beneath your feet. "Can you smell that, Kurt?" you asked, turning to your blue darling with a smile. You took a deep breath, savoring the crisp, earthy aroma and sighed blissfully, "It's fall, and everything feels just right again..." The moment was filled with a sense of nostalgia and anticipation for the seasonal activities ahead.

Kurt chuckled warmly, clearly happy to see you so thrilled, especially since you had seemed rather down lately. Anything he could do to help you feel happier, he'd do without hesitation. "Ja...they have a lot of things here, don't they?" he said, taking the time to glance around at the beautifully decorated farm. The owners must really go all out for their showings, he thought, noting the intricate details and festive touches that adorned the place. The vibrant colors, the cheerful atmosphere, and the meticulous care put into every corner of the farm made it a truly special experience.

Kurt felt a sense of admiration for the effort that went into creating such a delightful environment. It reminded him of the circus and how they did their very best to present the entire grounds for the public.

"This is beautiful, lots of...pumpkins and apples," Kurt commented, taking in the vibrant decorations and the festive atmosphere around him. You were practically raving beside him, barely able to stay in place, but you kept your excitement under control the best you could. The autumn air was crisp and cool, adding to the enchantment of the scene.

Your eyes immediately went to the snacks they had meticulously prepared for everyone. Caramel apples, popcorn, pies, pops, cider—everything you adored was laid out on beautifully decorated tables. The scent of cinnamon and baked goods filled the air, making it even harder to contain your joy. The laughter and chatter of people enjoying the season added to the warm, inviting ambiance of the gathering.

What surprised Kurt was that there were both humans and mutants freely roaming around the farm. This was not something he was accustomed to seeing; mutants who looked different, like him, usually attracted a lot of unwanted attention in public spaces. Here, however, they weren't given a second glance. He looked around in amazement, almost confused by the sight before him, and you noticed his bewilderment. Your elbow nudged him lightly as you explained, "The owners welcome everyone here. They tragically lost their son, who was a mutant, so…they actively display their farm as a safe haven for all of us."

"Ah...I see," he murmured thoughtfully. He then shifted his gaze back to the owners of the farm, an older couple who stood nearby. They looked like the quintessential image of typical farmers, with weathered faces that told tales of years spent working. Their eyes were kind, filled with a warmth that instantly put one at ease. Their gentle nature was evident in the way they carried themselves, moving with a calm and steady grace. Friendly smiles adorned their faces, radiating genuine hospitality and a sense of welcome that seemed to embrace everyone who came to their farm.

"Come on! Let's go on a hayride! We can get some hot apple cider too, and maybe even pet the horses!" you exclaimed excitedly, tugging him along towards the rustic wooden wagon. The crisp autumn air filled your lungs as you approached, and you saw the magnificent horses already harnessed and ready to pull the wagon for anyone eager for a ride. The horses were gorgeous. They had sleek, well-groomed coats, their manes flowed gently in the gentle breeze of the cloudy afternoon. The horse's ear flicked and it turned its head to look at you approaching.

You grinned widely, feeling a rush of joy, slowing your approach as to not spook the two horses. Reaching up, you gently pet the horse's strong, muscular neck, feeling the warmth of its body and the softness of its fur. The horse nickered softly, acknowledging your gentle touch. "I love horses...they're amazing animals." You commented softly.

"The circus had lots of horses. And zebras," Kurt commented, gently stroking the other horse's nose and then moving his hand up over its forehead. "They are very intelligent animals, more than most think." He paused for a moment, admiring the animal's calm demeanor.

You both climbed into the wagon, eager and excited to go on the hay ride around the expansive farm. The farm was a large patch of land, ensuring that the ride wouldn't be short and sweet but rather leisurely and an enjoyable experience. It reminded you of rides when you were a kid, so excited for the fall holidays to come without a worry in the world. As the wagon began to move, you sat closer to Kurt, feeling the warmth of his presence beside you.

You sipped on some delicious, warm cider, savoring the taste as you looked around the picturesque farm. The brilliant apple trees stood tall, their branches heavy with ripe fruit, and the vibrant pumpkin patch sprawled out before you, each pumpkin seemingly more perfect than the last. The horses wheeled around to see the intricate hay maze, its paths promising adventure and fun. The feeling of these happy things— the crisp autumn air, the vibrant colors, the laughter of families enjoying their day—made you feel so warm inside, a deep contentment settling over you. You were thrilled that Kurt was with you this year to experience all these wonderful moments.

"How do you like it so far? It's nice, right?" you asked, your voice filled with excitement and warmth while you were snuggled into his side, feeling his comforting presence beside you. He smiled in return, leaning his head over yours. "Ja...it's really nice."

"Just wait! We're gonna get pumpkins, and try the snacks, and go through the corn maze!" you said excitedly, smiling ear to ear. "There will be so many different kinds of pumpkins to choose from. We can get other stuff too if you want, like some apple cider or maybe even some fresh berries. And we can head back home and make pies together. It'll be so much fun to bake and fill the house with the smell of fresh pies...and we'll carve our pumpkins too!"

Kurt listened to you ramble excitedly about all the things you wanted to do with him, smiling at you the entire time. His eyes sparkled with amusement and affection as you listed off your plans. "Ja, ja, liebe...we can do all of it. I have not seen you so happy in a long time," he commented, his voice warm and full of love, not negatively but in a pleased way.

He chuckled softly at the end of your little rant when you mentioned the pumpkins, the sound rich and comforting, and he tilted his head thoughtfully, "Carving pumpkins, it is a little too early for that, ja? They will rot before Halloween if we carve them now!" His laughter was infectious, making you feel even more eager to spend time together, planning and enjoying each moment to the fullest.

"Well," you huffed and sat up straighter, playfully smirking at him, "It gives us a reason to come back here and get another pumpkin next time. We can even make it a little tradition of ours."

He rolled his eyes and smiled at you, clearly amused by your enthusiasm. "Alright, alright, schatz...if that's what you want," he said, his voice filled with affection. He leaned in and kissed your temple softly, then pulled back to grin at you warmly. "Who knows, maybe we'll find the perfect pumpkin next time."

"Both times!" You replied gleefully, savoring the joyous moment as the hayride continued its leisurely pace. After the hayride, you eagerly set off to explore the pumpkin patch, your eyes scanning the vast array of pumpkins laid out before you.

You were particularly picky, determined to find the most perfect pumpkin for you and Kurt to carve together later. Each pumpkin was a potential masterpiece in your eyes, and you examined them meticulously. Kurt watched you with a mixture of amusement and admiration, seeing how you scrutinized each pumpkin with a sharp, discerning eye. You carefully considered the color, ensuring it was the ideal shade of orange. The shape had to be just right – round with a flat bottom for stability when carving. Size was another crucial factor; it needed to be large enough to create an impressive design but not so big that it would be cumbersome to handle.

You hummed a cheerful tune as you eagerly picked up a perfect pumpkin from the patch. With a proud smile, you showed it to Kurt, "This one!" You walked over to him, carefully handing him the round, robust pumpkin. Kurt took it from you and looked at it, returning your smile. He didn’t know much about the nuances of picking the perfect pumpkin, having always assumed you just grabbed one that caught your eye. To him, it seemed like a simple task, but you made it sound so intricate and important, as if there was an art to selecting the very best one from the patch.

"Ah, ja, this one is very plump," he remarked, examining the pumpkin thoroughly before setting it aside. He observed you intently as you scampered off to find another one, admiring your playful giddiness. "Are we going to carry these all the way back?" he called out to you, his voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. He continued to watch you hop over pumpkins, not receiving an answer since you were too focused on your search.

After the farmers graciously let you borrow a small wagon to pull your proud pumpkins, you both wandered through the expansive and winding corn maze. The maze was a labyrinth of tall, rustling stalks that seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction. As you meandered through the maze, you found yourselves playing around joyfully.

He would chase you with playful determination, laughter echoing through the corn. "I will catch you, liebe!" Kurt called as you laughed happily and ran from him. He caught you eventually, without cheating and teleporting. You tumbled down carefully and giggled as he blew raspberries on your neck.

After you played chase, you hide behind the towering corn stalks and waited for your chance to jump out unexpectedly, scaring him for fun and eliciting delighted squeals from the both of you. "Liebe! Mein Gott, I almost had a heart attack!" he laughed playfully with you. "You are getting better at sneaking, have you been training in the Danger Room without telling me?" He poked his tongue out at you.

The corn maze was fun, with its winding paths and unexpected turns providing plenty of entertainment. However, after navigating the maze for a while, you both started to feel hungry. Deciding it was time for a break, you headed over to the snack area. There, you found a delightful variety of treats lovingly made by the farmers and decided to try just about everything. There were slices of pumpkin pie and pecan pie, fresh fruits like apples and berries, and delicious caramel apples with homemade caramel.

You were so incredibly excited and completely caught up in the moment, indulging in these delightful comfort foods with such passion that even the sin of gluttony would be envious. It wasn't all your fault...the farmers were so kind and they just kept giving you food like loving grandparents trying to feed their kin. Kurt playfully teased you, gently poking your nose as he affectionately called you, "My sweet little cavity," followed by a chuckle and a tender kiss on your cheek. "I think we've had enough sweets for today... I feel like I'm going to go into a sugar coma," he laughed, somewhat embarrassed. Kurt had eaten far more sugar than he was accustomed to.

By the time you got back to the mansion, you felt the weight of the sugar hit you like a ton of bricks, making you incredibly sleepy, and Kurt felt exactly the same way. After you both managed to carry in your respective pumpkin and bag of goodies, which were now feeling much heavier than they did earlier, the two of you trudged up to the bedroom. Without even needing to discuss it, you silently agreed that you both needed a well-deserved nap to recover from the day's activities and all the sugary treats you had consumed. The soft bed looked so inviting, and the thought of sinking into its comfort was too tempting to resist.

As you lay down on the soft, inviting bed, you felt a gentle wave of relaxation wash over you, knowing that this upcoming nap would rejuvenate you for the rest of the evening. You couldn't help but watch Kurt as he casually stripped his top off, your eyes tracing the way his well-defined abdomen flexed with each movement. The sight made your loins stir with excitement and need. However, it wasn't enough to distract you from the overwhelming desire for sleep. The need to rest and recharge was the dominating feeling right now.

As you snuggled into him, feeling the warmth and safety he provided, you sighed deeply, a sense of contentment washing over you. A soft, serene smile crept up your face, spreading slowly as you reveled in the moment. He could feel your smile against his fur, the gentle curve of your lips pressing into him, and it made him chuckle softly. "What is it, schatz... you are grinning ear to ear..." he murmured lovingly into your hair, his voice a tender whisper that sent shivers down your spine, his accent sounded thicker whenever he was tired.

"Oh, nothing..." you trailed off, your voice barely more than a whisper as you leaned into him. You buried your face in his chest, feeling the warmth and softness of his fur against your skin, and took a deep breath in, inhaling deeply. His fur tended to keep scents for longer than normal, making it feel like you were enveloped in a comforting aroma that lingered. The scent reminding you of autumn days, warm drinks, and cozy evenings by the fire. All of the wonderful scents you had from your eventful day imbedded in his velvety blue skin.

"You just smell like pumpkins," you murmured softly.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Cover Images: House of X #3 (2019)

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[homey-worshiper]

tiny devotional acts for lady hestia

putting effort into your food can be just cutting up an apple and sprinkling some cinnamon on it

buy yourself a nice sweet pastry

visit a bakery or your local shop that sells pastry

watch a cozy youtube video - cozy minecraft, stardew valley, autumn movie recommendations, daily vlog, whatever you find fitting

take a picture of a pretty thing - oh a chestnut, oh my cat is cute, oh my coffee cup looks pretty in this light

if you can buy your favourite food pre-made do it, invest in your comfort

use your favourite mug

don't be scared and wear this beautiful sweater you "save up for special occasions", you living is a special occasion

if you have a reusable cup/bottle that can handle hot beverages, make yourself something nice to drink and go for a walk - run errands, buy stickers, or just walk around your neighbourhood

[diremoone]

sweet dedication | g. satoru

a year after his fight with sukuna, satoru finally gets to enjoy his birthday in peace, with no one but his beloved wife.

w — fluff, post-canon, lots of food :3, i incorporated a doggo sue me, vv short but hopefully sweet 🥰

Happy Birthday, My Beloved Satoru ❤️❤️

[ line divider credit to @/saradika ]

The last thing Satoru expected to smell coming through the front door of his home was a mixture of cinnamon and cherries. He shrugged off the jacket from his shoulders and curiously stepped further into his home. Upon seeing the kitchen table and every counter, his eyes went wide and mouth fell open.

On the kitchen table was at least four boxes of pizza, chicken wings, fried chicken, and brisket. Towards the end of the table farther fell the front door were sides, like green bean casserole and corn. His mouth began to water, his inner food junkie rearing it’s hungry head.

Across the counters and clearly in the oven were desserts, desserts, and more desserts — apple and cherry pie, cheesecake, fruit kebabs, crepes, mochi, brownies, kikufuku from Sendai. Gosh, what was the occasion?

And then the man sees above the hallway entrance that leads to the other rooms: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Satoru gapes.

Was it really December 7th?

He checks his phone and his brows raise in surprise. How in the world did he forget?

But you didn’t. You would’ve been the only one available to have made such a feast for him (even if it was mostly sweets), since everyone else was out on missions, still trying to tidy up Japan after the Culling Games’ toll.

He feels his heart swell with love and happiness, happy that you’ve remembered a date that he’s thrown to the side for so many years. He’s happy that you’ve done so much here for him, a genuine showcase of how much you really loved him and knew him by cooking all of his favorites. This must’ve taken you hours and hours to do; this being a clear proclamation of how much you’ve dedicated yourself to him and to knowing him.

“Babe?” he calls out to open air. No response. He’s smart by checking the kitchen first; you’d never leave cooking food unattended.

Satoru’s mouth quirks up into a sweet smile at the sight of passed out, sitting on the kitchen floor with your inseparable corgi Maple snoozing away right next to you. Although he squints at the sight of your neck lolled to the side in the corner of the cabinets. That didn’t look comfortable at all.

He’s not sure if he should take you to bed or wake you up right now. After a moment, he decides the former. But as soon as you’re scooped up and secured against his broad chest, your eyes flutter open. Maple wakes up too, barking and wiggling her butt, happy to see her dad.

“Oh, my god. Satoru!”

He winks. “The one and only baby.”

Your brain has always been fast about remembering all of the events prior to any sort of sleep or nap you’ve had. This time was no different, and he chuckles when you begin to groan and complain about your surprise being ruined.

“God, I can’t believe I fell asleep! How does one even sleep on the kitchen floor. My ass hurts, Jesus,” you complain. You burrow your head into the crook of his neck in embarrassment as he carries you to the couch and sits down with you on his lap. Maple bounds up behind him and miraculously uses her little legs to hop up on the couch. Satoru chuckles and takes a moment to briefly give her belly rubs.

“Thank you for trying to make this day special for me,” your ‘Toru says. It’s sweet, the tone of his voice, filled with love and adoration. “Don’t feel bad. That looks like a lot of cooking you did, so it’s only natural you’d fall asleep at some point. So don’t beat yourself up over it, okay?”

You grumble but nod anyway. It was true. You’d been awake ever since he’d left earlier this morning, putting the pedal to the floor on your attempt to swamp the love of your life with all of his favorite foods made by hand.

“I love you, Satoru,” you mumble, still tired and sleepy from overextending yourself.

“I love you, too, baby.” His lips press a long kiss to the side of your temple. He pulls away to gaze down into your eyes, chuckles escaping him again at seeing the sleepy haze in them. “Thank you for trying to make my special day special.”

“But I still didn’t get to surprise you,” you complain.

“I wasn’t expecting it when I came home, especially now with everything going on. I think that’s a big enough surprise for me,” he argues. “So come on, cheer up! We have some delicious delicious food to eat made by my sweet, adorable, wonderful wifey-poo! Except the pizza of course!”

You deadpan. “Call me that again and I’ll smash the strawberry shortcake I made as your birthday cake in that expensive jacket you bought last week.”

Satoru gasps dramatically in horror.

“You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”

“Not if I eat it first!”

taglist:

@vagabond-umlaut @heresan @4sat0ruu and @/all my satoru lovers also i shouldn’t have taken that nap otherwise this taglist would be longer lmaoo

let’s raise a glass to this man who deserves the entire fucking world

[chrisevansonly]

𝑨𝒑𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝑪𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔 (𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒄2)

☁︎lando norris x female reader

☁︎there is one thing that lando loves more than you, and it’s your famous apple cider

☁︎fluff and very cute lando<3

☁︎fic number 2 for my fall celebration! thank you everyone for your love and support, it means the world to me<3

Pitchy singing and the occasional yell could be heard from Lando’s gaming room as you stirred your fresh apple cider gently around the steel pot. October was your favourite time because you were able to get fresh apples from the markets, and lots of cinnamon sticks fresh and locally sourced. Though if there was anyone else on this planet who loved your apple cider more than anyone: that award would go to your boyfriend.

Lando turned towards the door to the sound of knocking, a smile on his face when he saw you, and then an even bigger excitement moved in noticing the special mug you had in your hands.

“Is that what I think it is?”

You shrugged

“It could be…”

Meanwhile the chat was blowing up on twitch, questions pouring in on what had captured the brit’s attention so quickly, Lando turning back only momentarily

“One second chat, y/n’s just brought me something delicious!”

You laughed walking over

“Just finished it now, should still be hot so be careful”

“It smells so fucking good”

He was never apologetic about how honest his reviews of your apple cider were, it didn’t matter who was around, there was no stopping what came out of his mouth.

“I’m glad you think so babe”

Leaning down to kiss his cheek gently you waved at the camera, it wasn’t your first time on stream so by now most people knew who you were. You slid a chair over, placing your own mug of cider down and pulled your legs up to your chest.

“Someone is asking why you have such a hyper reaction to this lan”

“Well excuse them.”

Lando crossed his arms a look of disgust on his face, he was quite literally the definition of sassy, and you loved it.

“Not that any of you deserve to know, but y/n’s apple cider is by far THE best on the planet, it’s sweet, it’s cinnamony-”

“Cinnamony…?”

He glanced at you

“It’s my word okay? Anyway as I was saying”

You had to cover your mouth from laughing, not wanting to pause his rant again

“This tastes like fall in a cup, it’s october in a cup okay? this tastes like nothing any of you will ever know because it’s special,all for me, it is the bomb.com”

When he was finished he took a sip, closing his eyes as you shook your head at his antics, leaning forward to check the chat

“Someone said ‘y/n’s apple cider is lando’s roman empire’ why thank you, i take great pride in it”

“It’s better than the roman empire”

Scooting his chair over he smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips, the taste of cinnamon and apples on your lips

“Thank you, it’s delicious as always”

“You’re welcome baby, there’s a whole big pot of it downstairs if you want more at anytime.”

Standing up you gave him one last kiss, waving to the screen to say goodbye to all his streamers before going back downstairs to get ready to bottle the leftover batch sitting on the stove still. Lando would speak to anyone and everyone about your skill of fall drinks, from hot ones to cold ones, but nothing would ever come close to the special cider you made for him every October for him to enjoy.

You’d almost considered selling some at your local farmers market but your boyfriends look of betrayal and disgust was enough for you to hold off on that venture for a while. The cup hitting the sink had you snapping out of your daze, Lando smiling in your direction.

“All done streaming my love?”

“Yeah, kept smelling how good the kitchen smelt, couldn’t be up there any longer”

You reached your hand up to brush some of his curls away from his face

“I’m just getting ready to bottle the rest of the cider, want to help?”

He nodded, always eager to lend a hand when he could

“Bottling them for me right?”

“Honestly I was thinking about taking some to the markets”

There was a noticeable silence that fell over the room, biting back a laugh you watched as Lando narrowed his eyes at you

“Unfortunately that’s not gonna work”

“Oh it isn’t?”

He shook his head

“No because you see this is my special cider, and if you start selling it, I will die of dehydration.”

The snort that escaped you tossed you into a fit of laughter, your hand holding your chest

“You are so dramatic baby”

“This isn’t a joke to me darling”

When you calmed down you looked up at him and smiled

“No markets, got it, this is Lando’s cider only”

“That’s more like it”

You pulled away from him, sliding some bottles in his direction

“Well then get to bottling babe, we’ve got a lot to do”

Lando may be dramatic sometimes but he would die for that cider of yours, he didn’t care who he needed to beat out for fresh apples, who he’d cut off on the highway to make it to the one farm that had the best cinnamon sticks, if it meant getting his cider all to himself he would do it in a heartbeat.

Although he loves you like no other, you’re starting to think this little fall drink is now Lando’s greatest love…and you’re okay with that.

[evvyyypeters-fics]

Tricks and Treats🎃

A Halloween Special!

Alive!Kyle Spencer x f!reader Headcanons

Warnings! Headcanons (may be OOC, hopefully not), some smut/ nsfw, f!gering, oral (f!recieving), períod sėx, mentions of p n v, mainly fluff, not proofread

Requested by @vi0l3tgard3ns

I really wanted to do this, but bc I’m having issues rn with my laptop, I decided to write some quick headcannons instead. I tried to an even amount of SFW and NSFW. Also, Happy Halloween everyone! Hope you had/ have a great time!

Sfw

• Kyle loves hanging out with his frat boy friends, but holidays are different. You’re the most important thing to him, so he’ll choose to spend the night with you any day. But especially a holiday, and Halloween is definitely no exception

• Kyle would immediately come up with wacky ideas for matching costumes if you brought up the topic

• He wouldn’t mind trick or treating with you if that’s what you wanted, going around confidently in your costumes and picking up candy at each house like you’re kids again (despite being college students :p)

• He’d prefer most to stay home with you and either hand out candy or snuggle up and watch scary movies in matching Halloween pajamas, munching on candy and popcorn. Possibly both at the same time.

• He’ll pretend he’s not as scared of the movie than he actually is. But you can tell when he fidgets a bit and smoothly holds you tighter, usually sliding his hand into yours and squeezing. He’d brush it off as him trying to comfort you instead.

• If you’re scared of the movie, he’d cover your eyes and ears until the scene is over and you can continue watching the less bothersome parts. Maybe giving you a few head rubs/ pets and soothing kisses along your face until your heartbeat stopped racing and your anxiety calmed.

• If you’re not into scary movies, he’d put on Tim Burton and Charlie Brown with you. Again, he’ll pretend that he’s a little more tough and that he doesn’t enjoy it as much as he does. But he’s too gentle and sweet to be the image he tries to mimic of his friends. (He’s working on coming out of it though and being more authentic, especially because he wants to be fully comfortable being himself around you).

• He’d make sure that Halloween night isn’t the only time you celebrate. The whole month he’ll take you on small dates to the pumpkin patch, the orchard, a fall fest, some cafes to buy all their halloween specials. You’ll carve pumpkins at home and decorate your houses, you’ll definitely go shopping together for your costumes. Matching or not.

• He’d tease you and goof around, trying on all the stupid and scary items hanging in Spirit Halloween or whatever costume shop. He’ll try to scare you on some occasion, but it’s purposely corny, and of course, you’ll try and get him back and he just has the biggest grin on his face.

• Kyle jokes about the pumpkin spice craze, but secretly he’s part of the hype. I think his favorite flavor for fall would be Apple Cinnamon though.

• If you had a pet together, he’d convince you to dress them up in a costume too, and if you were matching—of course your pet would too.

• If you’re on your period that week, he’d buy lots of chocolate from the store for you, and some to hand out, letting you eat any of the leftovers. He’d have a heating pad ready for you when you snuggle and watch movies, having you laying back against his chest as his hands rest over the heating pad on your abdomen.

Nsfw

• If you bought a skimpy costume, one that showed any amount of your curves and body flauntingly, he’d lose his mind. He’d be focused on it all night and his mind might trail a little when he’s around you or you walk by. He’s definitely checking you out very obviously, even though he’s trying to hide it. Sometimes.

• If you teased him any amount in costume, even if you were at a Halloween party with his friends, he’d find a place to fuck the shit out of you until neither of you can think.

• His favorite sexy costumes would probably be (not in order): Playboy Bunny/ Bunny costume, sexy cop, sexy lifeguard, sexy angel or devil, sexy cheerleader.

• Since it’s Halloween, he’d subtly ask to involve candy during sexy. Like rubbing your lips and tongue with a lollipop so he can lick the sugar off when you kiss. Or covering your skin in a little chocolate sauce or whipped cream. He’d go crazy if you wore a skimpy costume and let him lick whip cream off your nipples (he’d more like inhale it, but y’know. Same difference.)

• If you decide not to dress up and stay home, he’d find a way to finger you or eat you out on the couch while you’re watching a movie. Oh, you’re too scared while watching the movie? Well here, let’s distract you with some mind numbing, knuckle deep massaging in your pussy while we watch, so you don’t have to worry. You’re bored? Why don’t you lay back while I let you grind yourself on my tongue and nose.

• It’d most likely eventually lead to the both of discarding the movie marathon and just fucking on the couch for the rest of the night until you fall asleep. The movie still playing in the background. Talk about Netflix and Chill.

• If he was feeling really frisky, he might ask you to try some spiked aphrodisiac candy with him to see how long you can last before one of you finally caves. Of course, the first one to cave is punished, but you’ll worry about that tomorrow.

• If you’re on your period, he’ll dress up as a vampire and beg to eat you out and fuck you. It’s ridiculous, but strangely hot. He says that it’s to “help with cramps” and that it would be the perfect opportunity, but it’s obvious that’s just an excuse because he wanted to try it with you after regularly helping you on your period (and doing some research) and was too embarrassed to ask until now. (You end up caving and it’s the best and strangest experience you’ll ever have. And of course you’ll want to do it again. Even after Halloween.)

Tag list (you can be added or removed at any time):

@fear-is-truth @xkaisxjazzxsingerx @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @marchsfreakshow @colinzabelswife @dearlizzies @americanwh0rerstory @xrag-dollx @lacucarachapisser @alittleobsessedbitch @n0tonlin3 @bellalove69420 @songbird-garden

[nauticallyhypnotical]

can i request sebastian teaching a shy f!farmer how to touch herself after learning that he's her first serious boyfriend (with a bit of a praise kink sprinkled in?)

Even though you and Sebastian had been dating for a few weeks, the two of you hadn’t really had a whole lot of time to yourselves as a couple. You were going to remedy that—tonight, you had made special reservations for a new sushi restaurant in Zuzu City. After that, you were going to take him on a romantic moonlit walk through your favorite park, and then bring him back home to your farm. You were quite nervous, as you were still a virgin and wanted to impress Sebastian. You neglected to mention to him on the ride into the city how long you spent getting ready, mulling over various outfit choices in front of your wardrobe and rhetorically asking your dog, Clover, for advice on what to wear. Eventually, you settled on a skin-tight purple dress adorned with little gold stars, the sleeves drooping loosely down your arms. 

You’d wanted him to think you were pretty. Needed it, more than you needed the air you breathe. Your heart just about burst out of your chest when he picked you up from the farm, his chocolate brown eyes lighting up when he saw you, his voice gravely and low as he says, “hey, sweetheart, aren’t you just perfect?” 

Embracing him on his motorcycle as you rode the highway into the city made your skin feel as though it were on fire, or frozen solid, or maybe both at the same time. You felt electric as you clung to him, arms wrapped tightly around his chest. Even with a helmet on, the smell of his cologne wafted into your nose, and you inhaled deeply. He smelled like the embodiment of autumn, with notes of apples and cinnamon, and it drove you crazy with desire. You almost laughed at yourself, the fact that you waited so long to have him and now that you did, you were too scared to do anything about it.  

Sebastian noticed your apprehension during dinner after about the third time of you blushing and looking away the second you two made eye contact. He looked at you endearingly with a smile on his face as you acted as shy as when you first met him, and he reached a hand across the table and encompassed it around yours. You nearly jumped out of your skin from the unexpected contact, and you timidly raise your eyes to meet his.  

“What’s got you so worked up, doll?” he asked, his husky voice sending a shiver down your spine. You pondered for a moment on what to say. 

“I just...I just wanted this night to be nice, but I can’t seem to get my nerves under control...” the vulnerability was making your heart pound, and your whole face felt like it was on fire.  

“You’re my first boyfriend, I'm basically just winging it over here because I don’t know what to do,” you looked away at that, unsure of what Sebastian must think now that he knows how inexperienced you are. Instead of pulling away, he just rubbed circles on your hand with his thumb. 

“Who said this wasn’t nice?” he finally said after a moment of silence. You met his gaze. 

“I’m eating my favorite food with the world’s most beautiful girl; how could this not be a nice night?” He let go of your hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.  

“And if I'm your first boyfriend,” he murmured, a rosy blush dusting across his cheeks as he stares longingly into your eyes, “I have to make this a night you won’t forget.”  

After paying for your meal, Sebastian took your hand and the two of you walked down the still bustling streets of Zuzu, the city that apparently doesn’t sleep. You took the opportunity away from your shared friends, as much as you loved them, to really talk with Sebastian about things you really couldn’t say in your tiny little village. You talked about why you really left your old life behind to start over in a town so small no one really knows about it, and he opened up to you about his troubled family life. By the end of the conversation, your dislike for Demetrius grew stronger. 

As the cool crisp air chilled further and conversation slowed naturally, you began to really focus on the sounds of the city. You were intrigued to hear the faint thumping of music coming from what should be an abandoned Joja Co warehouse. Outside the door, a big man was standing by, arms crossed over his broad chest as he watched any passersby.  

“Wanna check it out?” Sebastian asked you, matching your curiosity. You nodded, and he led you over to the door. You assumed the big man was eyeing you down as you approached, if his eyes weren’t obscured by black sunglasses. You wondered how he even saw anything, wearing sunglasses at night. 

“Password?” the man said gruffly. Sebastian made a point of briefly checking his surroundings before leaning in and whispering “midnight serenade”. The bouncer rapped on the door twice before stepping to the side, allowing whoever was on the other side to open it for them.  

“How did you-?” you asked. Sebastian just shrugged and gave you a mischievous grin. 

“Lucky guess,” he said. Inside the warehouse, they were immediately enveloped in a world of dimly lit ambiance and pulsating music. There was a surprising number of people, some of which were very engaged with the party lifestyle. Sebastian led you to a corner of the warehouse that was less crowded and invited you to dance with him. You had two left feet, but that didn’t stop you from accepting his proposal. The two of you laughed as you allowed the pulse of the music to fill your veins, fueling your movements. For the first time in a long time, you felt uninhibited, and you wondered how long the feeling would last.  

Yoba, it seemed, had other plans.  

The party was rushed by the ZPD, or Zuzu Police Department. Apparently, Joja Co did not appreciate occupants in its unused warehouse, even if they had no plans to do anything with it.  

With hearts pounding and adrenaline rushing through your veins, you find yourselves swept up in the chaos, frantically weaving your way through the crowd as you try to evade the authorities. You swiftly exit the warehouse through a side door and race through dimly lit alleyways to get as far away from there as possible. 

You’re still laughing when you finally reach Sebastian’s motorcycle, still parked in front of the sushi restaurant, now long closed.  

When you finally reach your farm, you ask him if he wants to spend the night, and it makes your heart flutter when he doesn’t hesitate to say yes.  

You get inside, and you both collapse on your sofa, tired from the day’s events. You instruct Sebastian to pick out a movie to play on your old box television while you toss some wood into the fireplace and get it lit, quickly returning to cozy up to his side.  

As the movie plays, and the fire crackles in the background, he lets his fingers trace idly along your arms, causing goosebumps to rise to the surface of your flesh. You nuzzle into him, and a gasp escapes your lips as his hand roams upwards, caressing your neck and threading through your hair. You can barely concentrate on the movie as Sebastian lightly scratches your head, and you grasp at his shirt when those slender fingers of his wrap around a lock of your hair and gently tug. He pulls your head back and exposes your open mouth to him, and with the movie now forgotten in the back, his tongue is sliding against your own. He brings his other hand up to cup your face, and a heat blooms deep within you. You maneuver your body until you’re straddling his hips, and with his hands now free he uses them to slide up your dress until they rest on your hips, his thumbs massaging in slow circles.  

The moment you pull away from him to catch your breath, Sebastian looks at you with lust in his half-lidded eyes.  

“How far do you want to take this, tonight?” he asks you, his voice low and full of desire. You blush and shy away from his gaze, now noticing the abundantly clear hardness forming underneath you. You bite your lip and slowly roll your hips against his, relishing in the way Sebastian inhales sharply at your motion.  

“Well,” you begin to say, “I’ve never done this sort of stuff before...Maybe you can show me what to do?” Sebastian groans when he hears you say that, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck, licking and sucking on a spot that made you feel ticklish. He grips you harder as you writhe around on his lap, arching your back so your chest presses against his. He detaches himself from your neck just long enough to pull your dress up and over your head, and he takes a moment to admire your beauty. You felt self-conscious under his gaze, so you instinctively moved to cover your chest with your arms, but his grip on your wrist halts your movements.  

“Don’t hide yourself from me, princess,” he commands, his authoritative tone making you drop your arms. You allow him to unclasp your bra, spilling your breasts out. He grabs them with both hands and begins to massage them while pinching your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. You’re moaning at his touch, and he watches you with amazement. 

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” he asks, leaning forward to place a kiss on your chest. He grinds his erection into you with his words.  

“You’re so, so perfect, baby,” he says between kisses. You squirm delightfully with his praise, needing it more than life. You realize that all you want to do is make Sebastian proud as you bring your hands up to card your fingers through his soft, dark hair. He looks up at you with a soft look before taking your lips in his own, releasing your nipples to grab your thighs and reposition you with your back on the couch. His fingers hook under the waistline of your panties, and he fervently removes them.  

Sebastian pulls away from you to stare at your fully exposed body, your face flushed and chest heaving as you pant for air. Your legs are spread with him in between them, one dangling off the couch, and he takes one of his fingers and drags it slowly along your slit. 

“Shit,” he hisses, bringing it up to his mouth to taste. “You’re so fucking wet for me.” 

“Is that good?” you ask shyly, and he chuckles. 

“Oh, sweet girl, yes. You’re so good for me,” he coos. His words of affirmation are so important to you, your hips twitch upwards in response. You spread your legs wider, allowing him to get a better look. 

“I want you to stick a finger inside, can you do that for me?” he instructs. You nod, sliding your hands down your body and using your left hand, you spread your lower lips wide. With your right middle finger, you tease at your entrance and push inwards, gasping lightly as you curl upwards.  

“I want to hear you, baby girl,” Sebastian says. You begin to whine as you pump your finger in and out of you at a slow pace; he doesn’t take his eyes off you for a second as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers, pulling them off his body leaving him in only a t-shirt and boxers. He finally releases his hardened cock from its pitched tent, its tip dribbling a small amount of precum. He wraps his hand around his member and begins to masturbate, nearly choking on his words as he manages to sputter out, “p-put another finger in.”  

You do as you’re told, slipping in your ring finger, while using the digits on your left hand to rub your clit in circles. You feel pressure building up inside you, like a thread waiting to snap, the heat in your body feeling as though you were set aflame. You’re rubbing on a spot inside that has you seeing stars and feeling high. You chase that feeling, hoping Sebastian knows how hard you’re trying for him, and soon that thread finally snaps with your climax as you cry out your performance.  

“Good girl,” he says with a predatory tone, and when you pull your fingers out of your twitching vagina, he’s lining himself up at your entrance. He grabs your wrist and makes sure you’re paying attention as he cleans your release off your appendages. He’s pushing into you as he licks you at the same time, the lewdness of it all causing your already flushed cheeks to deepen in color; you felt hot, everywhere, and the overstimulation of your senses was causing your peak to rapidly build back up. Sebastian clutches one of your breasts with his free hand like you might slip away if he doesn’t keep hold of you. 

“Can you cum again for me, sweetheart?” he asks once he releases your fingers with a wet pop! You whimper as you shake your head. 

“I-I don’t know if I can, Seb,” you manage. Sebastian flashes one of his crooked, toothy grins that made you fall for him.  

“Aw, course you can, sweetheart. I'll get you there,” he purrs, and he cradles your head while leaning down to slip his tongue in between your parted lips. He’s massaging the muscle against your own in tune with his thrusts, and the hand playing with your boob now grips onto your fleshy hip. You’ve never felt closer to Sebastian, but still, it’s not enough. You need him deeper; you need him to never leave your side again. 

This time, your orgasm crashes down like a wave, an ecstasy like you’ve never felt flooding your whole body. You tremble and shake against him as all you can do is whimper into his mouth. He swallows up every last sound, his own moans better than any song he and Sam could produce. It doesn’t take long for him to follow, and he pulls out to finish on your chest. He rests for a moment, catching his breath. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he finally says. 

“I’ll grab a towel, get you cleaned up,” he’d been to your house countless times with Sam and Abigail, so he was quite familiar with the layout already. It didn’t take long for him to return with a rag, but it was enough time for you to doze off. Sebastian looked down at you fondly, and cleaned you up slowly, admiring his handiwork. When he was satisfied, he grabbed a blanket from your bedroom and crawled into the sofa behind you, draping an arm over your waist and holding you through the night. 

[talesofesther]

sweet like cinnamon

Jenna Ortega x Reader

Summary: The small coffee shop became Jenna's favorite place in town, more so when she meets someone special there.

Requested by anon

A/N: The classic coffee shop story, we love to see. <3

Masterlist

When one is working on a movie, spending most of their day in a busy set surrounded by ten things happening all at once; it's inevitable to crave some peace now and then.

Jenna considers herself a little lucky. For the time of the filming, she's settled in a smaller town, and, all on her own, she found a small place to hide away sometimes.

It was the consequence of a wrong turn that brought her to the simple cafe; it was all warm colored, tones of brown and orange, overflowing coziness. Its back wall was brick, with multiple order options written on black boards; there were fairy lights all around, they were the main source of light, giving the place a dimmer look; the seats were 80s styled, insanely comfortable, and all around there were vintage decorations, from vinyls to an old arcade machine; not to mention they served one of the best coffees she's ever had.

Jenna fell in love with the place. It was her little secret spot.

She visits at least twice a week.

Today, she walked in hugging her hoodie closer to herself, feeling the cold air from outside dissipate into warmth and a fresh scent of cinnamon as the glass doors closed behind her. Jenna breathed in the calming atmosphere, smelling something sweet in the air. Maybe she'd have more than just a coffee today.

"Hello, sweetheart," the old lady who usually took the orders greeted Jenna, already used to her weekly visits, "the usual?"

Jenna nodded happily, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her hoodie; "and a piece of whatever this sweet smell comes from."

The lady smiled knowingly, writing down Jenna's order, "that would be my classic apple pie, you'll love it."

"I know I will."

Jenna sat by her usual spot by the window, it was a smaller table with just two seats and gave a view of the whole coffee shop whilst still being reserved enough. The actress slumped on her chair, feeling the weight of the week down on her shoulders — there was no better feeling than putting on her biggest and most comfy hoodie and sweatpants and finally taking a moment for herself away from the commotion; Jenna loves her job, but she's still human. The fairy lights in the ceiling were easy on the eyes, and the low tune of a 70s song was like gentle waves rocking her body. It felt like recharging.

"Jenny!"

The resemblance with her name got Jenna involuntarily looking up, and sure enough, a girl she's never seen before was placing her coffee and pie down on the counter. A rather cute girl, Jenna noticed.

She got up, walking over with a grin teasing at her lips. Her manicured hands closed around the coffee cup, feeling the warmth of it seeping into her skin; "it's Jenna, actually," she grinned, glancing up at the girl who now looked at her with comically large eyes.

"Shit," you mumbled, "that does not look like an 'a'." You gestured to Jenna's name written on the coffee cup.

Jenna turned the cup around, and sure enough, the calligraphy there wasn't the best.

"I'm sorry, I'm new."

Came your voice again and Jenna returned her gaze up, only to catch you pursing your lips, face growing hotter by the second as you shifted on your feet.

Surprisingly, Jenna felt her own cheeks warming up. "That's alright," her glance darted down to the tag in your uniform so she could catch your name, "gives me an excuse to properly introduce myself."

That was the first time Jenna saw you.

Her visits evolved to three times a week.

———

The small bell above the door dinged, and you looked up from the cappuccino you were making. It was just a young man looking rather tired. You cursed under your breath for the involuntary expectation.

It's not like you were waiting for her. Or maybe you were. Thing is, she only showed up once this week, and it's already Friday.

And when, for the last two weeks, she's been showing up at least trice without failure, your heart tends to jump to your throat every time you hear the doorbell.

You remember the first order you gave to her, a latte and an apple pie; simple, yet delicious.

She usually asks the same, the coffee at least. You know it by heart.

She was also the prettiest girl you've ever seen; touche, you knew who she was, but you liked to think that her social status didn't influence your relationship — could you call it a relationship? — she certainly doesn't seem to care.

The bell dinged again but you refrained from looking up this time, keeping your eyes on the filled-to-the-brim mug you were carrying to the old lady on the table nearest the door.

"Fancy seeing you here."

You flinched at the sudden sweetness of her voice right beside you, feeling a drop of warm coffee spill on your thumb.

"Christ, Jenna," you mumbled, glancing up at Jenna only to see that dazzling smile of hers being directed at you; her shoulder-length hair half up and half down; cheeks a little pink from the cold outside; black headphones hanging from her neck. She took your breath away so easily these days.

"Missed me?" She teased, getting your stomach all fluttery.

With a chuckle, you indulged her; "you could say that," before turning around to deliver the old lady's order.

Jenna made herself comfortable on her usual table, keeping her gaze aimlessly out the window as she soaked up the cozy atmosphere. The smell of freshly baked goods hang in the air; there was no music playing today, just the sound of the coffee machine and cutlery clinking together.

A mug was suddenly placed in front of her, catching Jenna's attention. A perfectly made latte macchiato. She bit back a smile.

"Can I get you anything else?" You asked, standing beside her with your hands behind your back and the ghost of a smile on your own lips.

"Maybe a bit of your time?" Jenna raised a brow, bringing the mug to her lips and taking a sip, she hummed approvingly at the taste.

Taking a deep breath in, you take a glance behind the counter to where your manager stays. You wonder if you'll get in trouble for getting too cozy with a customer.

Jenna does that sometimes; ask for more of your presence, flirt — at least you think that's what it is. Most of the time, you don't know what to do with yourself when it happens. You don't know what she wants. She has the habit of making your heartbeat skyrocket.

"It's your fault if I get fired," you said as you sat down on the chair in front of her.

And then Jenna scrunched her nose, almost closing her eyes as she said something about five minutes not killing anyone; and your heart just about melted.

"Did you always live here?" Jenna was itching to know more about you.

"Not really, I visited before" you hummed, leaning your arms on the table, "but I've moved here recently, wanted a change of scenery I guess."

You could feel her eyes on you as she twirled her coffee, spoon clinking against the porcelain. "It's a pretty little town," you shrugged.

"It is pretty," Jenna agreed, her eyes not leaving you once.

Conversation flowed quite easily between you both, she felt comfortable around you, something that doesn't happen often. It didn't help with the natural attachment she was already developing for you.

Frost was collecting on the corner of the windows yet Jenna could feel her hands slick with perspiration. Nervousness is creeping up on her more than she thought it would, the words she rehearsed this morning are shuffled in her mind.

Eventually, she cleared her throat, feigning calmness the best she could; "I was thinking, maybe we could go out sometime, explore the town together?" She finally averted her gaze from yours, "I don't have any filming to do this weekend."

You panicked, "Oh, uh-" unable to form a coherent sentence for a second, so you blurted the first thing you thought of; "I'm working this weekend."

It was the wrong thing to say because Jenna deflated a little, she pursed her lips and curled in on her herself; "that's okay, I was- it was," she shook her head, forcing a smile, "it was a stupid idea."

No. You wanted to say. It's not stupid at all. But you didn't have the courage yet, you just mumbled you had to get back to work and left her table.

Jenna watched you leave with her heart in her hands, sure she'd ruined whatever you two were or could be.

———

Jenna didn't show up for a week.

It felt like a part of your day was missing.

———

It was late at night when Jenna finally managed to walk out of the set — or more so, drag herself out. Her feet were heavy to lift off the floor with each step, her posture not as straight as it usually is.

She didn't register where she was walking until she came face to face with the glass doors of the familiar café; its fairy lights, comfy seats, and general warmth were calling out her name.

Given the time, there were only a few people inside, already finishing their drinks. Jenna spotted you through the window, her breath got a little stuck; you were cleaning the counter, swaying gently from side to side, no doubt following the tune of whatever old song was playing inside.

Jenna pushed open the door. You looked up instantly, almost as if feeling her presence.

She raised her hand in a timid wave, unsure of what to say.

You regarded her for a while and Jenna felt some kind of vulnerable under your eyes, until you simply motioned with your head toward her usual table.

Jenna understood quickly, thankful for the way you read her. She sat down, and not long after, her coffee order was being placed in front of her.

There was no need for her to ask you to stay today, you did so willingly, making yourself comfortable in front of her.

"Hi," you said softly.

Both her hands closed around the warm mug, Jenna blinked slowly, managing a smile; "hi."

"Are you okay?" The look in your eyes didn't mask your worry, her sudden fragility was tugging at your heartstrings.

Jenna nodded slowly, becoming hyper-aware of her hanging eyelids, darker eyes, and tousled hair. "Yeah, just tired."

You smiled something melancholic, "you look the part."

Jenna chuckled humourlessly, brushing away strands of hair that had fallen into her eyes, "I know you're closing soon, I won't stay long."

"I'm the one closing today," you explained quickly, leaning on the table so your hands were just short of brushing Jenna's, "so you can stay as long as you need."

Jenna tapped her mug with her nails, her eyes focused on your hands. She wondered if you could hear her heart and its frantic beating, if you could tell how much she wanted to drown in your warmth.

"Please, your company is my favorite." The tip of your fingers brushed her knuckles and you hoped she understood what you couldn't say.

Jenna took your hand. You felt gratitude, relief, and something else lingering on her touch; unaware that you had become part of Jenna's safe haven.

———

The next time Jenna walked into the café, it was because you had asked her to.

She sat down on her table, butterflies going wild on her stomach and her knee bobbing up and down as she waited for you to appear.

You came to her with two to-go coffee cups in hand, a scarf snug around your neck, and a beanie pushing your hair down, with a smile reserved only for her; "I thought we could take a walk around town."

Jenna took one of the cups from you, her hand touching yours just a tad too long, and she knew her cheeks were as red as a tomato. She didn't care.

She didn't care, because you intertwined your fingers with hers on the way out. While the coffee kept one hand warm, you kept the other.

Jenna is one of those people who just happen in your life. She shows up on your first day at work and invades your dreams on the same night.

She's the one who makes a walk around town feel like the best date ever.

She's the one who kisses you when you're in the park, with brown leaves beneath your feet and cold wind on your cheeks. Her lips warm and tasting like brown sugar and something spiced, all cinnamon and coffee. 

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Jenna’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @thenextdawn @alexkolax @aahdiieb @mindingmybidness12 @melthedwarf @smugchorizo @the-lazy-turtle

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐏𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚 𝐃𝐚𝐲 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre!outbreak joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn

word count: 3.1k

summary: Months after the move you're trying to paint again. But you lack the motivation to do so. Thankfully, Sarah comes over and keeps you company until Tommy and Joel come over to pick her up.

warnings: brief themes of grief, tommy radiating younger sibling energy and being a menace, fluff

a/n: thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed the prologue and a special thank you to @pedrito-friskito who edited the chapter, love you! 💜💜💜

prologue || chapter two

The dust lingers in the air, a constant reminder of what once was. You see flecks of it dancing in the beams of light that pour through the window, illuminating the room with a hazy glow. The smell of dust permeates every corner, fills your lungs. There are still boxes stacked in your room. Some of them waiting to be unpacked and some of them waiting to be filled. 

Looking through your grandfather’s old knick-knacks had been a harder task than you thought. You found pictures, lots of them. From his past, from his now. You even found a picture of yourself from when you were a kid; laughing in the sun with mud all over your face. You had promised him the perfect garden. At the end of the day, it was far from it but he still said that it was. 

Your fingers clench around the brush you’re holding. An hour ago you decided to use the grief to make something of it. You had a heaping amount of black and red paint poured onto the pallete, untouched. 

You shake your head, agitated. You really shouldn’t be wasting paint. It’s not like you can afford to continuously buy supplies. 

You’re staring deeply into the blank canvas when a loud knock jars you back to reality. You can feel a burn in your eyes, taunting you for the wasted hour spent sitting idly without so much as a brushstroke to show for it.

“For fuck’s sake,” you grumble under your breath while heading to the door. Your eyes linger on the window, it’s a clear day out, which now you decide to point all your anger at. If it was raining, it would be different. You would have the proper ambiance to be inspired. 

Without looking, you open the door, your eyes immediately dropping to the girl standing on your porch. “Sarah?” 

“Sorry for barging in,” she says with a sheepish grin. “I forgot my keys and dad isn’t home yet. Can I come inside?” 

Dad. Joel. 

You blink before smiling. You take a step to the side as a wordless invite. She steps inside with grace, her shoes blinking pink and purple. It’s hard to stifle a giggle, which earns you a quizzical look from her. 

You point to her feet, “Nice kicks,” 

“Oh,” her eyes lit up, leaving her heel glued to the hardwood floors, she lifted her foot. “Aren’t they cool? Azra offered we trade shoes for the day.” 

"Veeery nice," you nod, but as Sarah turns to head further inside, you clear your throat. "Shoes off," you remind her.

“Right, sorry.” 

You make your way to the kitchen, Sarah follows closely behind, taking off her blinking shoes as she goes. You stretch up on your toes and open the cupboard, searching for Sarah's preferred brand of tea. 

Since you moved in and formed close bonds with the Miller family, both Tommy and Sarah have been regular visitors to your home. You enjoy their company. It was nice to talk to people instead of obsessing over your muses that had clearly abandoned you.

You pull out the box of apple cinnamon tea and place it on the counter. Joel never stops by. You only see him whenever he comes over to pick up Sarah and that’s pretty much it. Sometimes you send cookies via Sarah and the next day she would tell you he enjoyed them. You aren’t quite sure if Joel is just reserved or if he just didn’t like you that much, but no matter what it is, the rest of the family seems to enjoy your presence. Which is all a neighbor could ask for. 

The staccato drumming of Sarah’s fingers against the wooden table pulls you back. You turn on the kettle, a soft steam filling the kitchen. 

“Your uncle Tommy is going to stop by too,” you say, leaning back and crossing your arms. “I’m assuming you’re dad is with him?” 

“Yeah, but it’s pizza day today so my dad will probably force them to stop by the supermarket to grab some stuff,” she lets her head fall onto her hands and adds. “If he doesn’t forget, that is. You should join us,” 

The water comes to a boil, forcing you to turn away from her. You place two tea bags into comically large mugs (the ones that make both Tommy and Sarah giggle, which brightens up your day) and pour the steaming water into them. You place one of the mugs in front of Sarah and slide into the chair beside her, watching as she wraps her nimble fingers around the purple mug. 

“I’m a busy woman,” you tease. “I need to work and stuff,” 

“Coffee shop?” 

“I’m off for the day,” 

A mischievous glint glimmered in her eyes, her smile widening into a cheeky grin. “Date?” 

You snort into your tea, waving your hand dismissively. Sarah raises an eyebrow at that. The girl has quite a sharp intuition. If you were being completely honest, it made you nervous some days.

“Nah, I just need to work on my paintings. I haven’t managed to paint a single stroke. It’s frustrating,” you stop and take a sip, the fruity flavor makes your taste buds come alive. “Very annoying,” 

“Maybe just paint something else or sketch something you like,” she states nonchalantly. “Take a break from the main thing, do a side quest,” 

“Sometimes I do that, but I really need to get a grip. I’m gonna end up working at the coffee house forever, or I’m just going to have to risk starvation,” 

“Don’t worry. We’ll take you in, feed you,” 

Teenagers. You shake your head with an amused smile, “What am I? A dog?” 

“A friend.” 

You still at that, fingers curling around the hot mug, it burns to the touch. Sarah starts to look around your house as if what she just said just now wasn’t ridiculously sweet. 

She hops off the chair and starts to wander with her mug nestled between her palms. Taking a sip, you smile into the porcelain rim, your heart beating fast. 

When you first moved here, you were scared to be alone. That you wouldn’t be able to make any friends. After your grandfather died and left you the house, you had half a mind to not make the move. It was nerve-wracking at the time. But ironically enough it was your grief that spurred you to take the leap forward. 

Sarah slows down, reaching the bookshelf. The one you have in the living room isn’t really that impressive, mostly put there for decor. She pushes a succulent out of the way and allows her fingers to trace the smooth spines. “You have a lot of children’s books,” 

“What can I say, I’m a kid at heart,” you observe the bookshelf next to her. She isn’t wrong. A lot of Roald Dahl books, which are followed by a series of Nicholas and the Gang books. “If you want to see my more serious stuff, we can check the one upstairs.” 

“I’m good,” Hooking her fingers around Matilda, she pulls the paperback out of its home. She flips it over and scans the back. “Can I borrow this one?” 

“Sure, be my guest. That’s one of my favorites,” 

“Living in a house full of dumb-dumbs sounds like my life story,” 

“Oh, believe me, your dad is much smarter than he looks,” the sigh you let out attracts her attention, eyes flitting back to you. “And so is your uncle. Also, Matilda’s parents are kind of assholes,” 

“Woah, spoilers.” 

Another knock at the door. Compared to Sarah’s slow, more careful ones. These knocks sound eccentric, hitting the wood as if the person behind it is out to break it. 

“Uncle Tommy,” Sarah guesses, rolling her eyes but smiling. “My dad’s probably with him,” 

She’s spot on with her guess. Sarah peers from your side, looking over both her uncle and dad. Tommy shoots you a wide grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Joel stands tall right behind him, his arms crossed, he greets you with a small smile and a signature head tilt. 

“Hello boys,” you say, returning the nod and smile. “Do you guys wanna come in?” 

Joel lifts a bag of groceries, “Pizza day,” 

Sarah’s ears perk up at that, her eyes wide with disbelief, “You didn’t forget!” then she narrows her eyes, sticking her bottom lip out. “Who are you and what did you with to my dad?” 

“I had to remind him,” Tommy chuckles, nudging his shoulder into Joel’s. He holds your gaze. “But I’m here for you, beautiful,” 

“My hero.” 

Joel scoffs with a half grin and gestures his head towards Sarah, “Get your things. Let’s get going.” 

All Sarah has to do is lean to the side and grab her backpack from behind the door. Joel waits for her below the short set of stairs, one hand in his pocket, eyes flicking between you and Tommy. He seems impatient, almost. 

Tommy brushes past you while Sarah takes her first step over the threshold. At that very moment you feel suspended in time, your eyes finding Joel’s for a brief moment until Sarah comes into view. He slaps a hand over her shoulder and smiles at you. Sarah is still holding the book as she waves you both off. 

When you close the door, Tommy is already in the kitchen, rummaging through your fridge. “You have nothin’ to eat,” 

“I thought we could order out,” you offer, your gaze falling to the blank canvas. Tommy moves his entire upper body out of the fridge and slams it shut. 

“You have anything in mind?” 

You don’t have to think long for an answer. 

“You know what? I think I’m craving pizza.” 

The thing about Tommy Miller is that he’s a good listener, paired with quite the mouth. 

He can talk for hours. You always comment on how that was his superpower; there RE no awkward silences when Tommy İs near. He’s also ridiculously intuitive, which makes you think Sarah got it from him. 

You two are sitting on the couch with crossed legs and facing each other. Your knees press together as he tells you about his day, munching on the last slice. He’s telling you how the concrete deliveries got delayed, which meant that the rest of their schedule got fucked. His words, not yours. Joel was furious, apparently. You never would’ve guessed. He just looks tired all the time.

“By the way,” he says, swallowing and reaching for the glass of bubbling coke. “If you were cravin’ pizza so much, we could’ve gone over to Joel’s. Eat some of that good homemade shit,” 

Picking up the empty pizza box, you place it on the coffee table and push it with the tips of your fingers. You don’t know how to answer him. Your brows furrow, and when he sees it, worry crosses his face. 

A bitter chuckle drops abruptly from your lips, “I don’t think Joel likes me very much,��� 

“What?” Tommy sounds positively horrified. If anyone heard, they would’ve thought you said something along the lines of your mother dying. “Nonsense. He adores you. Why would you even think that?” 

Your eyes drop to the cushions you sit on. You feel the brush of his knuckles ghosting over your cheek, prompting you to meet his gaze. His eyes are a soft brown, a shade lighter than Joel’s. 

“Hey, you can talk to me. Did he do something to make you feel like that?” 

“N-No,” you slowly shake your head, your pulse throbs under your skin. “I just…I don’t know. It seems like he’s wary of me, like I did something wrong once and he’s expecting it to happen again,” 

He sighs, his palm now fully cradling your cheek. You can’t help but lean into his touch. “That’s just Joel for you. He’s got a fair share of weight on them shoulders—I’m also probably not a big help to him. Always getting into trouble,” 

“I know for a fact that Sarah and Joel love you very much,” you have the need to remind him, and his eyes light up at your words. The skin under his hand burns. “Besides young siblings are always trouble, I would know since I’m the younger one as well. It’s character.” 

He blows a raspberry into the air. His hand falls from your cheek and takes refuge over his lap. “Some character,” he utters under his breath, shooting you a playful gaze. “You want me to talk to him?” 

“Please no,” you laugh, slapping him on the shoulder as you get up. “That would be super embarrassing,” 

“Sometimes you need to tell that stubborn dog to behave,” his voice reaches you in waves, his socked feet following you to the kitchen. You dispose of the boxes, start to prepare him, and you some late-night tea. 

“He is behaving,” you reply, feeling his presence behind you. “I just get into my own head sometimes. Don’t worry about it.” 

Your hands are still above the kitchen counter when you feel his warm breath fanning the back of your neck. You watch his fingers curl around the edge, his chin not quite pressing but lingering a couple of centimeters above your shoulder. 

“Anyone who doesn’t like you is a grade-A idiot, just sayin’” his voice is a low echo in your ear. He’s not physically touching you, but it feels as if his entire being is consuming you by just being so close. The click of the kettle parts the silence. “The water’s done.” 

You’re surprised when you turn and find that there’s actually quite a bit of space between you still. You could’ve sworn that his body was only a breath away. 

Tommy steps closer, caging you between his arms and the kitchen counter. He has a lazy, yet adoring, smile on his face. Your legs start to tremble, a habit you found you did whenever you were in any kind of confrontation. 

Now, there isn’t really anything to confront, so you blame the crackling of tension between you and him. You take a breath and your chest heaves.

You hold your breath when you notice he’s starting to inch closer, gorgeous browns dropping to the flush of your lips. You don’t pull away. But you don’t lean in either. You’re like a deer in headlights, shocked by the sudden beam of brightness. 

“Is this okay?” he asks in a whisper. You swallow, your muddled mind finding it difficult to string the words that might or might not form a coherent sentence. 

Tommy has always been a close friend. A confidant. Someone you can call in the middle of the night with noquestions asked. You know for a fact that he can be a flirt. And this quality of his cheered you up from time to time—like when he calls you beautiful or praises you in any shape or form. But you’re quite not sure you want to breach the limitations of a platonic relationship. 

Suddenly you feel his lips on your cheek, pulling back as quickly as he leaned in, he releases you from the cage and grins at you. 

“Gotcha.” 

“Excuse me?” Your mouth feels like sandpaper and your throat dry. You swallow and watch him sit on a stool across from you. His fingers grip the peaking part of the stool head between his legs, he looks like a toddler. 

“I’m just doing my thing, being a troublemaker. Just like you said,” he hunches forward, eyes looking up to you between dark lashes. “It’s character, right?” 

“Oh fuck off, Tommy Miller,” 

“You know I’m not above accepting that offer, right? It’s been a while.” 

You roll your eyes and turn on the kettle again, the steaming water now probably tepid. 

“What would you do if I actually kissed you?” 

The question lingers in the air and uncomfortably presses into your skin, you lack the air to take a breath. You don’t dare to look at him. Gaze stubbornly watching the button of the kettle to pop, signaling you that the water is boiling. 

“I don’t know Tommy,” you answer honestly and press a palm against the heating surface of the kettle. “I don’t know.” 

You hate taking out the thrash. 

You don’t know why. When you were a kid, it was your dad who took it out and that would always be accompanied by a series of complaints. His habit of talking to himself and to the inanimate objects around him had passed on to you. The night air chills your skin, a shiver shuddering up your spine while you struggle to keep the trash bag in the air with one hand. Your nails begin to tear the plastic and you start to walk faster. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter, arm cramping. “Come on, just a little further,” 

When you reach the container, you lift the bag with a heave and do a small little hip wiggle at the small victory. 

Turning around you see Joel watching you with a wide smile. 

You’re stunned into silence, arms and legs tingling at the thought of how stupid you must’ve looked. He’s holding a trashbag of his own. Red flannel accentuating his narrowing hips perfectly. He cocks his head to the side when you continue to stare. 

“Are you always this excited after throwin’ out the thrash?” he asks, humored by your reaction. 

While you think of an answer, he takes wide steps and throws out his own trash. Joel then turns to you, the only thing separating your bodies being the white picket fence. 

“Let’s just say that I was happy it didn’t rip while making the trip,” 

He nods while pressing his hands into his thighs, “A worthy thing to celebrate.” 

You shift from one leg to another. The conversation you had with Tommy the night before echoes in your head worry clouding your chest with the question ‘did Tommy say anything?’.  But you assume not when Joel takes a step back, palms sliding down his jeans like a nervous tick. 

“Well then,” he clears his throat. “See you later neighbor,” 

You lift your hand to wave, an early smile starts to curl over your lips. However, your half-uttered goodbye is cut short by the absurdly loud growl of your stomach. 

Ah fuck. 

Joel stills. Your cheeks and the tips of your ears burn. His eyes drop to your arms that are now wrapped tight around your stomach, then he lifts his gaze back up to meet yours. 

“You wanna join us for dinner?” he asks, he pronounces every word slowly, reminding you of the way you whisper to animals that you don’t want to scare away. “Sarah’s makin’ her special burgers,” 

“Special?” you ask back, ignoring the fact that you’ve become a charity case in a blink of an eye. “What makes them special?” 

Hand sliding into his pockets, Joel gestures with his head for you to come over. 

“Why don’t you come over and see for yourself?” 

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Apple Pie

summary: you and hotch spend the first of many christmases together.

pairing: fem!reader x college!aaron hotchner

contents: explicit language, best friends to lovers, mention of a deceased parent, internal angst/sadness, food mention, fluff, kissing

wc: 1,756

A/N: me writing a hotch fic? more likely than you think! merry christmas to my hotchgirls (and everyone else of course) who celebrates ❤️

cm masterlist

He doesn’t understand why he misses it. There was never anything special about his home on Christmas. No expected pile of presents under the tiny tree that was always falling apart– is probably falling apart in his mother’s living room right now. No extended family gathering together around a table. No Sunday mass, or other family tradition.

His father was never there and for that he was grateful. The haul was always modest, a few present for him, a few for Sean. Sometimes there would be a can of cinnamon rolls popped open, filling the house with spiced warmth, eaten with chocolate milk. Other times he would just scavenge, always making sure to share whatever he found with Sean. Oatmeal or some cereal with raisins in it, sprinkled with sugar.

It was never much but it was home. It was Hotchner Christmas.

He makes the decision early to not go home. There’s nothing there for him— Sean is in juvie, his mom is working herself to the bone to keep up with bills. His father is dead. So he stays on campus.

And for once in his life, Aaron feels lucky because you stay in town too.

“Why aren’t you going home again?” He asks a couple days before the break starts. The two of you are sitting on the couch in your apartment after dinner, one of the classic Christmas claymations playing on the tv.

You shrug, taking a sip from the warm mug of hot chocolate in your hands, “Christmas is their anniversary, they’re taking a trip and we’ll do all the family stuff when they get back.”

He hums in response, turning his eyes back to the screen though his mind drifts elsewhere.

Aaron can’t think about how different your experiences with the holiday are. How much love filled your home when the season rolled around. Jealousy would bubble up inside of him if he didn’t care for you so much. You’ve become the most important person on the planet to him in the short time that you’ve known one another and he only wishes good things for you.

As if you can hear his thoughts you lean your head on his shoulder and ask, “What’s Christmas like at your house?”

“Even when my father was alive he wouldn’t be there…he was off…doesn’t matter. My mom tried. She did the best that she could with what we had, what my father gave her,” His voice is somber, and you can’t tell if its because he misses it or never wants it to happen again.

Regardless you nod, deciding to leave any of the other questions that popped up in your head from that description alone to fade away. Aaron always has this melancholy that surrounds him and you’d never want to contribute to it. In fact, you do everything you can to always make him smile, an expression that is almost reserved just for you.

“Since we’re both staying here, what do you think about me coming over for Christmas?”

“What could we possibly do in my miniscule dorm room for Christmas?”

“Alright, then you come over to mine,” You suggest easily.

—

He’s standing in the parking lot of your apartment building near his car like a nervous idiot and he’s not quite sure why. That’s not entirely true, any time he’s alone with you he’s nervous because you’re…well you’re you. Bright and sweet, always reminding him that there are things and people worth enduring this life for. But, this is different– you don’t share Christmas with anyone, especially not you. With how you’ve talked about your Christmas traditions, this is a big deal.

You’re sharing a piece of your home with him, something he’d never do because his home for as long as he can remember has been broken.

When you open the door, you’re in Christmas in pajamas, green with a Christmas lights pattern all over it just like the tree. He couldn’t keep a straight face if he tried, not with the way your eyes light up when they drop to the plain green sweater he has on.

“You’re here and you’re festive!”

He looks down at the sweater skeptically, “I tried.”

“It’s perfect,” You insist, pulling him inside.

Your apartment is cozy— all the main lights are off because you’ve covered the space in soft white Christmas lights. There’s Christmas music playing low in the background, a tree much too large for the space nestled in the corner of the living room. There are trinkets and knick knacks everywhere. Christmas has effectively exploded in your apartment.

He raises an eyebrow at you as he sheds his coat, “You’ve gone all out I see.”

“It’s your first Christmas away from home, it should be special.”

“Trust me, I didn’t expect all of this,” He gestures around loosely.

“Well, its the first Christmas that we’ve ever spent together. So it’s extra special. C’mon.”

You grab his hand leading him into the kitchen and his heart jumps in his chest. The warmth of your hand is gone quickly as you reach for two martini glasses rimmed with sugar and filled with a deep burgundy liquid. That smile is still on your face as you hold them up near your cheeks, looking proud of yourself.

“What’s this?”

“A cranberry spritz.” You hold it out to him and when he eyes it cautiously you add, “Non-alcoholic just how you like. I also have eggnog if you’d prefer it.”

That furrow between his eyebrows smooths out, a small smile on his lips as he takes it, “This is good, thanks.”

Your returning smile is bright as always as you gesture to the stool at the island, “Sit, dinner’s almost ready.”

Dinner is intricate by his standards; a roast chicken with a sauce that’s light and garlicky, mashed potatoes, and a mixed vegetable dish that he could easily eat every day for the rest of life. Ignoring his protests and grumbles, you plate dinner not only for yourself and him, turning on The Grinch before sliding into the island stool next to him.

“Didn’t know you could cook this well, you’ve been feeding us grilled cheeses all semester.”

“Cooking like this is expensive, Aaron,” You remind him teasingly.

“I know, I appreciate it— really, you didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Should we take a shot of eggnog every time you say something like that tonight?”

He gives you a scolding look that makes you giggle. You stand, bumping his shoulder playfully and he tries to join you, reaching for his plate but you quickly snatch it, hand coming down on his shoulder.

“Stay put, I’ll take that. There’s dessert too.”

“Dessert?”

“You expected Christmas dinner without dessert? What’s next, you don’t think I got you anything?”

“I knew you’d be stubborn and not listen so I didn’t waste my breath.”

“Good,” You say with a smile on your face, happy that he’ll accept the gifts you got him, but also because it feels good to be known by him.

With your hands tucked safely into bright red oven mitts, you retrieve the apple pie from the oven, steam escaping from the intricate design you carved into the crust.

Aaron blinks, something soft stirring deep in his chest, “Apple pie.”

“It’s your favorite,” You simply, not noticing the way his voice changes as you continue to examine the pie.

“You know you didn’t have to do all this for me.”

“We’re at two shots of eggnog now. Who said I did it just for you?” You tease softly, before turning towards him, your expression growing serious. “You deserve it, Aaron. Thorough holidays, your favorite dessert, every reason to smile. You deserve it all.”

That feeling that’s been sitting in his chest, bubbling softly turns into a rolling boil, one he can no longer ignore. He reaches for your hand and pulls you close, a soft sound of surprise leaving you as he presses his lips to yours. You melt immediately, clutching at his shoulders as he licks into your mouth. While the kiss is overall gentle, there’s an undercurrent of hunger that’s obvious in the strength of his grip and insistence of his tongue. I’m the desperate whimper that slips from his throat and echoes into yours. He breaks the kiss eventually, resting his forehead against your own as your breaths mingle.

“The mistletoe is actually over there,” You whisper against his lips stupidly.

He looks at you with disbelief, mouth agape before determination materializes in his eyes. Moving you both to the mistletoe, he kisses you again, this time it’s softer and less heated.

“Better?”

“Honestly, I think I liked the one over there a—“

He cuts you off with another kiss, cupping your face in his hands. He kisses you. Kisses you and kisses you and kisses you, like it’s his job. Like it’s his dying wish and the grim reaper has come for you.

“As much as I love losing air in the name of sucking face, the pie’s gonna get cold and I made it just for you,” You mumble, running your hands up and down his chest.

“Don’t call it sucking face,” He grumbles, cheeks going pink as he lets you go.

You move towards your baked masterpiece, inhaling its sweet, cinnamon-y scent. “Snogging?”

He gives you an exasperated look, but you can see the way his lips twitch, the fondness in his gaze as he moves towards you.

“Kiss-a-rama? Lip Olympics? Lip-lock-a-doodle?” You muse, cutting a piece of pie for him and sliding him the plate.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And all yours,” You murmur with a smug smile, cutting a piece of pie for yourself.

Aaron’s flush deepens as he takes his place at the counter again. When you join him, he pulls your stool closer to his, wrapping his arm around you as the two of you eat and talk and kiss. The warm domesticity and soft excitement in the air has him feeling like this could be home. You could be home. A tradition he could look forward to.

Further into the night, the two of you are curled up on your couch as always— yet another Christmas movie playing— instead this time you’re firmly planted in Aaron’s lap with his arms wrapped tightly around you.

“Aaron?”

“Hmm?” He hums, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Let’s spend every Christmas together,” You suggest, as if you’d been reading his mind earlier.

He grins, raising his hand to your chin to pull you into a gentle kiss. “Yeah, let’s.”

cm taglist: @ssamorganhotchner, @hotchsdoormat, @lefthandedhotch, @heliotropehotch, @zetasaturno99, @ssa-montgomery, @moonshine-evelyn, @emlynblack, @wheelsupkels, @jaspxr, @gspenc, @sadgirlml, @hotchs-bitch, @wilbur-rabbit, @hotched, @greg-montgomery, @reidselle, @fightingdragonswithwho , @rousethemouse, @eternal-silvertongued-prince, @lesbianhotch

[take-everything-you-can]

Put Your Head On My Shoulder

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

A/N: This Fandom has given me the most inspiration I've had in years and this is a thank you to every single one of you. This idea spurred from one too many drinks and unhinged DMs and I'm so excited to share it with you guys. So here goes nothing lol. A special thanks to my lady loves @lesservillain , @ghost-proofbaby , @bettyfrommars , and @bimbobaggins69 for beta reading and letting me fill your inboxes with all my little thots for our little gremlin man !

P.S : BEFORE I GET INTO ANYTHING THIS STORY IS 18+ MINORS NEED TO GTFO PLEASE AND THANK YOU !!!!! Also please remember to like and reblog from your creators It keeps the fandom alive !!! ( honestly don't know what I would do without ya'll )

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader ( Pumpkin )

Summary: A 1950's daydream of malt shop kisses and doo wop singles far behind closed doors. Dreamboat Eddie Munson picks up more than just an extra route. A love that makes you weak in the knees... but how long can you go on loving a man that isn't the one your married to.

TW: Angst- mentions of an affair (adultery), verbal abuse mentions, mentions of weight ( mentions of food within the story throughout), disordered eating, feeling unloved, self deprecation slightly, staying with toxic partner Fluff- pet names, domestic bliss, mutual pining Smut- fingering, soft touches, overstimulation slightly very slight, unprotected PIV, cream pie, spanking,..... tbh i can't think of anymore but if you see any please let me know ... Thank you all so much. ( every chapter will get updated tw)

WC: 4.1K

Flour covers the countertop in your kitchen, and a rolling pin is set to the side while you knead the soft pastry ingredients together. Apples sit freshly peeled in a separate dish. Sliced and added to sugar and cinnamon. Picking up the rolling pin, you do your best to flatten the dough to a thin sheet and mold it to the glass dish before you. 

“Well, this dough is much better than the first,” you say aloud to yourself. Your husband once told you that speaking out loud to yourself was a sign of a weak mind, you never put much stock in that. But here you were doing exactly that as your days consist of waiting for your husband to return home from work. 

You splash a bit of vanilla into the apple mixture to complete your pie filling. Once it is all tucked neatly beneath the fluffy dough, you take a knife and leave four little holes within the surface and crimp the edges together, sealing the flavors within. A touch of sugar is added to the top along with an egg wash before placing the pie on a rack in the oven. A timer is set for twenty minutes, a reminder to lower the temperature and to add your special ingredient.

Soft music plays throughout the house, Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald keep you company on these long lonely days. Lonely but only for such a short time. Your husband works for the state doing something he thinks you're too dumb to understand so why talk about it? If anyone ever asks you simply say ‘Oh please you think a woman wants to know such things’. That usually earns you a laugh at cocktail parties and a warm smile from your man. If you could even call him that. 

Yes, he is your man in the sense that your last names are the same and you had shared the same bed. Where is the love though? It isn’t tangible and hasn’t been for quite some time now. Your day begins and ends with a few words apart from an I love you. You served him still, acted to the prying eyes, as a doting Wife. Four years and Everyone still thought you had a perfect life. 

That dream of white picket fences and shared milkshakes. That love of never-ending kisses and satisfying sex. Everyone around you wanted all that you had. Would they still want your life if they could see past those closed doors and shut curtains? 

Would they want to spend their mornings hiding the bags under their eyes from nights of restless sleep? Would they want to have a constant monologue of the flaws seen in the mirror? Ones that your oh-so-loving husband pointed out to you time and time again. Would they want to cook and clean knowing they would never receive a thank you? No, you knew they wouldn’t. All the small things that build and grow until it becomes a monotonous routine. Walking through days as if the next would be the exact same and then doing it all again and again, Until one day something changed. 

Two months prior A knock on the door, one that started to come once a week. The company of CC & Drums Dairy was paid to bring you a gallon of milk, A necessity your husband called it. A man with long dark locks that flowed over his shoulder and curls that dipped across his forehead under his cap. Deep Brown eyes that sparkled with flecks of amber as the sun hit him just right. Dressed in white overalls to comply with his company uniform and sleek black shoes that shine just as brightly as his smile. His name tag reads Eddie in a sweet embroidered cursive. Eddie, a name that would soon become something you would never forget. 

Your timer goes off as you check the pie, squeezing a lemon over the crust for that citrus tang. Slipping the dessert back into the oven, for another half hour or so, a knock sounds through the house, sending the butterflies in your stomach in a tizzy. Eddie had arrived.

A quick task of undoing the strings to your apron and a fast fix of hair in the mirror you had hung in the hall. A hand to your abdomen as you intake a breath and let it stagger out between your lips, hesitating to open the door. The second you see him you can feel the way the tops of your cheeks heat and plump with a smile. One that matches his.

 You take a second and wonder if he knows how handsome he is. The way the small lines beside his eyes crinkle with years of use. You wonder if he knows that the instant you see him, your heart stops beating. But most of all you wonder if you're the only one those soft eyes and long lashes catch in his gaze. 

“Afternoon darling, I must say this heat wave has got to be breaking records. Ought not keep these out here too long.” as he lifts the small crate of glass bottles holding the product out.

 You knew better than to take it from him, even if every bone in your body screamed too. The last time you tried you nearly flipped the whole crate, underestimating the weight. From that day on you always stood to the side as you let Eddie into your home to set the dairy in your kitchen. It was another thing you wondered about him. Did he do this for everyone else too?

“ Well let's not keep them then sir.” standing to the side he slides past you brushing a hand across the elbow you held to the door. His way of saying hello. Small touches here and there as he could never keep his hands to himself for too long in your presence.

“ Something smells awful delicious in her ma’am.”

“An Apple pie is in the oven, maybe you’ll stay and have a slice. For your troubles of course.” 

“Mhmm, my troubles.” Eddie sat the crate on the counter next to the ice box and turned his body towards you and enveloped you in his stronghold. An intoxicating embrace as he pulled you flush to his body. 

“ I missed you, you know that pretty girl?” soft tone, almost a whisper. A small smile he couldn't see but could feel made its way to your face. 

“I bet you say that to all the girls on your route.” he lets out a small chuckle.

“Only the breathtaking ones.” a falter to your features as your mind reeled with all the possibilities.

 Does he miss Mrs.Cunningham the way he misses you? Does he miss Ms.Buckley the same? That sick green monster finds its way under your skin as you think of all the girls he must have at his beck and call. But today that monster wasn’t going to ruin the few fleeting moments you could spend with him. You needed Eddie in the most carnal of ways.

“Do you want to know what I missed? “ Your fingers trail their way from the small of his back and up over his shoulder, landing on his neck just below his ear. Cupping his face you bring it down and catch his lips as they meet yours. 

“Oh yeah? you missed me too Pumpkin?” a second crash of your lips to his, makes him hum from the back of his throat. His nose nudges yours to the left so his teeth can catch your bottom lip, pulling back slightly to hear the small whine you emit.

“I always miss you, Eddie.”  His hands travel down over your figure as he starts to ruffle the hem of your dress up. Thankful for its length to hide how wet you had become just from him being in the home you share with your spouse. A topic you and Eddie tried to steer clear of, but the wrongness of the act just felt so right. 

Over a year your husband hadn’t touched you, barely talked to you and some days you were even sure he hadn't even looked in your direction. Eddie though, In the last two months, Eddie had made you feel seen. He made you feel heard, and most of all he made you feel desired.  

As his hand finds the thin cotton that covers your cunt he glides his digits over the wet patch that had grown by just the thought of him. A deep hum and a small huff of breath from Eddie against your neck as he kissed his way to your shoulder. 

“So wet for me and I've barely even touched you. Are you that starved for affection?” The words forming in that sweet small surrender to him were all but cut off as he slid a finger through your folds and teased your entrance. A gasp was the response he got, one he loved to hear in protest every time he had you. 

“C’mon honey tell me what you want.” how could you respond to him with words if you couldn't even think of them? The man before you had spent the last few months discovering just how to make you melt in his arms.

 He knew that the spot behind your knee was his best friend for when he had you on your back. He knew the way your hips stutter when you're close to your peak, and he knew that if your eyes found that they couldn't stay open that you were in utter bliss.

 His favorite thing he had learned throughout your time together though was that even when he knew you had your doubts, you still trusted him in every sense of the word. 

After only two months Eddie knew you better than you know yourself. Better than your husband had ever cared to know you.

“ Please, Eddie.” He smiled down at you 

“ Please What Honey?” 

“ Dip in Eddie, Fuck me please.”  He could feel the slackening of your legs as his assault on your clit had made you a bit sensitive, in his focus on making you feel as good as he possibly could, in what little time he had with you. He slid two of his thick fingers into your dripping heat as his thumb stayed in a rhythm that matched his wrist as he curled in and let the sounds of his efforts echo off the small kitchen walls. 

Moaning into Eddie's ear as his finger worked in and out of you making that heat inside of you grow higher and higher. Clutching the strap of his overalls, a small pull leaning back, as the pleasure he was giving you kept climbing. 

“ Come on now baby, let go.” A final intake of air, hold on to the breath that led you to your walls squeezing eddies fingers tight. That coil snapped as you let your body fall slack against him a loud moan from the farthest depths within you found its way out of your lungs. 

When your eyes land on Eddie after your come down all you can see is that smile. The dimple-creasing smile that kept haunting your dreams at night. 

“I need more.” You didn’t know how but his smile grew even wider and more sinister as his tone began to deepen. A kiss is pressed to your lips, not urgent, understanding. 

“ You need more? Well, it's a damn good thing that what you're asking for is in stock then Pumpkin.” He turned you around to face the small table that sat in your kitchen, knowing what he wanted from you. He wasn’t the only one taking notes from your time together. 

You braced yourself against the worn wood and clutched the sides of it as you heard the familiar clinks of metal as his rings fumbled with the buckle of his belt.  

The wait, though it is small, is brutal. Anticipation makes your stomach flip and cunt flutter. A shuffle out of his overalls gives Eddie a moment to just admire the way you listen so well. These small moments have him thanking every bad decision that got him here. To this small town, with this small job, on this small route. A route he picked up as a last resort. Yeah, he doesn't know who he's praying to but whoever is listening, he's singing grace. 

A grip in the slight pudge of your hips to keep himself steady, Eddie is gentle as he slips his cock through your folds gathering your slick over his length and breaching your desire. A deep moan and a few choice words fall from Eddie as he fills you and meets the small wavering gasp you let out, a breath you didn't know you had been holding.  A whine of impatience, his sign to move. 

A soft speed turns ravenous as his dick uses your walls to curve his hooks into you deeper and deeper. A sigh of his name and you can feel the stutter in his thrust. He slows his pace if only to keep himself from having to leave your presence all too soon.  

"Fuck darling, so good to me, taking me so well like this pussy was made for me."  You mewl from beneath him, dropping your forehead to the wood that is holding you up. You fear that if it had not been here your legs would have given up the second he started talking. "Isn't that right pumpkin? Made just for me? " A sharp thrust and you know he wants an answer in the way his grip turns bruising. A trip through your mind as you try and collect the words from thin air. 

"YES! God yes, I was made just for you." 

"Such a good girl for me baby. That's right, isn't it? You're all mine aren't you?"  Another squeeze to your hip and a smack that lands hard on your ass. Eddie's palm kneads the sting as you answer him. 

" All yours, all yours, no one else, just you baby." A grunt hum from the back of his throat as he grips your shoulder and leans so his body is flush with yours. His breath is on your neck as he leans to your ear. 

"Not even your husband, just you and me baby?" 

"Just you and me Ed's" Your eyes tunnel and you see white as your orgasm rushes through you, Eddie's own a thrust away as he moans deep against your skin. His body weight and yours against the kitchen table as you both find your way down from the clouds. 

Small kisses he leaves to your spine and the back of your neck. You turn your head and he places another small one to the upturned corner of your mouth. A bell chimes and you sit for a few seconds letting Eddie gather his own bearings. A small pat to the curve of your pussy as Eddie pulls the cotton back in place. A shock to your sensitivity.

"Keep that in there baby, that way you have a part of me while I'm gone." A heat to your cheeks as the thought of Eddie's cum dripping out of you while your husband sat across from you and read the paper over dinner. A sly smirk from the man you just let defile the small space, one you would let do ungodly things to you. 

You put on oven mitts as Eddie finds a few glasses in the cabinet. You slice into the flakey crust and slip through the filling as you place the large piece on a plate for you to share. Eddie pours milk as you find some silverware, he places the bottles in your fridge so they keep.

Turning with a smile, he is the definition of adoration. In your eyes he is everything. 

Why is it that when his time with you is coming to an end you almost wish it would end as soon as possible? Almost as if you would wish he would part with some harsh words to make you not want him in the most beautiful ways. You have to make yourself believe these things before he leaves because if you don’t, it would just shatter you. So you take a different route, you don’t shatter yourself, instead, you splinter and crack all the things that hold you until you see him again. The times where he glues those little shards back in place if only for you to break them off again and again. A scared thought and a small shake of your head trying to rid yourself of it. A married woman. What would he possibly want from you other than a good lay? 

He sees that doubt within your mind as if reading it. He takes your hand in his as he laces your fingers together. 

“ Penny for your thoughts Pumpkin?” You glance finally meeting his eyes as you clear your throat. 

“ Nothing important hun.” You slide a fork to his side of the table as your eyes dart to the clock.  He squeezes your hand once more, lowering his eyes in search of yours again. 

“It is important if it bothers you.” Your heart stops. The breath you were going to take gets caught in your throat and you turn on that winning smile you had trained yourself to hold in uncomfortable circumstances. One you wish he couldn't see through.

“ It’s nothing Eds, really.” 

“Do you promise?” you take a hand and cup his cheek.

 How do you tell him that he is your first thought in the morning and the last thought before falling asleep? How instead of counting sheep you try and count the freckles on his face by sheer memory?  How could you tell him you wish you were his one and only? That you have never felt about another human soul the way you feel about his. Instead, you stuff it down, apple pie soon to follow. 

“I Promise.”  

You know he doesn’t believe you but he would rather set out to sea and die of starvation as the sharks feed from him than to make the last moments he has with you tainted with fights and tears. God when you cry it absolutely destroys him. 

The first time you had ever let him take you in his arms you had just gotten off the phone with your husband. He had heard hushed words while he waited for you to grab the weekly tip your husband left for him. Your husband had informed you that he would not be coming home, as the fight from the night before had lingered into the morning and would now follow you well into the night. The first time you had opened the door Eddie studied the angelic features of your face, and they had plagued his dreams for such a long time at this point.

When you rounded the corner with a smudge of mascara beneath your eyes, he instantly without thinking took you in, pushing your face to his chest as his hand rested on the back of your head. Slight comfort made the tears begin again as he wiped the remainder of the smudge and irritation from your face. No man had ever done something as small as comforting you before.  In the two months since he had started this route, he knew he had instantly fallen head over heels in love with you.

You had taken two bites from the plate that sat in front of you and Eddie had finished the slice. He even went as far as to slide a finger in the crumbs on the plate and lick them off in an attempt to show you how much he had enjoyed it. His time with you. 

A gathering of glasses you brought to the sink as he brought the other dishes and sat them in the deep well while wrapping his arms around your waist and you stood eyes closed relishing in the last little bit of affection he could offer to you. 

A kiss to your shoulder as you turn your head resting it on his.

“I’ll be by in a week Pumpkin.” A nod to the fact you already knew. “ Seven days.” Another nod, not risking the crumble in your voice. “ Not long at all.”  Another small kiss to your cheek as you turned into his chest and rested your forehead on his. 

“Seven days?” 

“ Seven days Pumpkin. Do you think you can wait for me? Just seven days? “

“I think I could wait a lifetime for you Eddie.” 

“I’ll see you in a week, Mrs.Carver.”

“ A week Mr.Munson.” 

A kiss to your lips and a parting gift of his very own pie before he snuck out through the back door, so as to not raise suspicion. A slow walk from the kitchen to the door and to turn a lock, on your mind. On your hope. You could do this. You could wait seven days.

Your husband comes through the door late as he had been doing for the last year or so. You had expected it from him at this point. You had started to make his dinner later and later knowing that if you had made it too early he would tell you all the ways he couldn't eat it. If it had gone too cold he would refuse and the hard work would go directly into the trash. 

He walked in as you took his dinner off the stove and placed it on a dish for him.

“Right on time doll.”

“ I don’t know how on time it is, It’s Nearly eight in the evening, Jason!”     

“ I’m not doing this with you tonight.”  

He always did this. He would come home and you would ask him where he had been, and he’d always end the conversation before it could even begin. You sat his plate in front of him as you sat across the table from him. Times where you could really take him in and see that the feelings you had once long ago were snuffed out like a flame to a candle.

“ Are you not eating dear?” 

“ I ate a bit earlier in the day.”

“Thanks for waiting .”  He rolled his eyes and you returned the gesture. 

“ I wouldn’t have had to wait if you had just picked up the phone and told me when you were going to be on your way home. I’m not waiting until we hit a new day to eat Jason I’m not going hungry just so you-”

“ Wouldn’t harm you any though would it.” 

You left the table. Your weight had started to become a key focus as he knew it bothered you more than anything else. You had gained some weight and your mother and friends had commented on it from time to time. For your husband to tho, it made you furious. You ate when you were unhappy, it was something you had done since you were a child. The only person who thought you could stand to eat a little more had been Eddie. 

It happened slowly, you would make him food now and then, and the majority of the time He would offer you a bit. It started with a bite and progressed into cutting his sandwiches in half just so you could have something to eat. Unlike your husband, Eddie had a suspicion that you weren’t eating enough. Like you weren’t giving your body what it needed to survive so he would constantly ask for you to eat with him. At least then he would know you had something of substance within your day.  

You had gone to your bedroom and gotten out of your daily’s slowly separating them into their hampers waiting to hear the stomping footsteps of Jason as he made his way to the spare bedroom. He had taken residency there about a month before Eddie came into your life and you were thankful for the times that Eddie left you yearning for more. To call out another man's name while with your significant other no matter how insignificant they were would still bring you shame like no other.

Slipping into your nightgown as Jason shuts the door to his room you wait a few minutes to take the walk back down the stairs to stand in front of the sink. Looking up at the sky through the window above the stars seem to shine brightly. You attempt to find the little dipper and look for its companion not far from where it lays, the version of a larger size. Constellations begin to blur as you let the silent tears fall. Hoping that somewhere out there in this little old town, Eddie too is looking up at the moon and wishing you were by his side as you wished upon all the stars in the sky. What a long time seven days would be.

[shadesoflsk]

A glimpse in Leon's life.

PAIRING: Basically just DI!Leon with few mentions of GN!Reader but nothing much.

NOTES: This is just a little drabble I had on my mind for some days. This is my first work so please forgive if this is so shitty. :P

WARNINGS: Mentions of alcohol, blood. But mostly slice of life!

Leon is a simple man, really. No matter how horrendous his missions could be, how bloody and gruesome the scenario might be — his mind and lifestyle remained the same.

Given the nature of his career he couldn't stick to a specific routine. "We need your help." That simple sentence would wake him up almost immediately (not a difficult task since poor guy is a light sleeper) and drop everything that he had planned for the day ahead — not that he minded, though. For almost twenty years of his life, he's only known that.

Yet, the comfort of coming back to his home, to his sacred place made up for every gunshot he had to fire and for every bloodshed he had to witness. Heavy footsteps echoed through the vast living room filled with cinnamon candle lights — not his but theirs. A nice reminder that he wasn’t alone. At least not anymore. Years made him a sappy man, reminiscing about his younger self. Bright eyes with a noble future. The latter has never changed no matter the situation.  He loves helping people — he loves people.

That’s why he always indulges in conversation with the same old lady at the supermarket, just like he’s doing right now. “How have you been young guy?” The lady would always ask even though Leon wasn’t young in the slightest sense of the word, but hey, he gratefully takes the compliment. “Nothing much.” He lies; his back was hurting as hell. Being thrown around was bearable when he was 27. Now, he worries he might not be able to crouch and pick up his cellphone whenever he drops it (which it's a rather common occurrence for him.)

He walks through the alcohol aisle. His eyes gazed along the wide-ranged options of booze. He was proud of himself since he grew out of that deadly addiction of his. He used to drown on it whenever he could, morning, afternoon and specially on nights when his own mind would play dirty tricks on him and display the various scenarios where he would blow the brains out of a zombie. Or when he was taken away from a normal life that dreadful night of September.

Now, instead of reeking of alcohol and sweat, he much prefers to smell like home. His partner loves candles — so does he. He picked up on a habit which he would take a quick sniff from the scented candle. He is a simple man; he likes what his darling likes. Cinnamon and apple was his favorite. “Jesus… the prices these days.” He muttered under his breath as he looked at the price. Life as an agent was tough, but well rewarding. A black card was always in his wallet, yet he barely used it. He could basically buy the whole supermarket in the blink of an eye, but he decided to follow a humble life. Too humble.

Leon was a simple man, he loved cleaning things. A cleaning freak some would say but he paid no mind. He likes tidying up his house — apron and everything. “Kiss the cooker.” “Housewife.” He had many of them, too many of them. Dad’s jokes were a daily thing throughout his life. Even when he was fresh out of college, he would drop some jokes expecting everyone to laugh at them. No one did. But he never stopped, it wasn’t in his nature to give up on his personality or something so essential about himself. And maybe that’s why he's a living proof of his everlasting identity.

[prncssie]

ONE ⎯⎯ ★ m. list

you’d think when you’re all moved out of your childhood home and sitting on the cool wooden flooring of your own apartment, you’d feel all grown up. granted, you are grown up. however, there’s just something so different, so special and sacred, about enjoying a glass of cheap red wine and listening to the soft sounds of frank ocean, pinkpantheress, and other various artists humming from your red beats pill. this space is entirely yours. it’s your space, filled with the scent of toasted vanilla beans and marshmallows roasting over a fire.

it’s as neat and cluttered as you want it, polaroids of your old life plastered against the walls, floors freshly mopped, dishes cleaned and put away. the air practically buzzes with opportunity, with optimism and hope for the future. you can see it now, your name credited at the end of the newest blockbuster, only after successfully landing a lead role and hitting it off with your co-actors. you can taste it, your dream come true. sweet like syrup, dancing across your tongue with a honeyed sapor. it’s everything you could have asked for and here, in this new city, it’s just within reach. of course, first, you’d have to land a role.

still, that isn’t exactly you’re biggest focus right now. in just a couple hours, you’ll be starting your new job at the local diner. it isn’t something you’re nervous about perse, but there’s nothing particularly enjoyable about a fresh start. your new uniform hangs in your makeshift closet. the stone gray curtains are pulled back to reveal the crisp edges of the baby pink retro-style dress. it’s a cute, little thing. pinstripes from top to bottom, a flare skirt lined with soft tulle, a quaint white apron to match. you’d think it’s something you’d get out of the sexy costume section of spirit halloween. yet, it’s something you’ll be putting on for almost seven days out the week. it’s position in your closet symbolizes something to you. a glowing emblem of promise. it may not be the best item you own, or even the most practical but it means the most and that’s something that matters.

a single corner of your mouth twitches upwards. your brown eyes find themselves wandering towards the simplistic blinking clock on your desk. it’s 12:30. it’s late enough, you think, for you to crawl beneath the thousand count thread sheets stretched across your bed. you toss your head back, downing the rest of the savory wine in a couple of gulps. you practice your newfound freedom by leaving the glass right there on the coffee table and make your way towards your bed. your muscles strain and tremble after minutes of sitting in the same position for far too long. they sing their praises once you reach your plush mattress and bury yourself beneath the sheets. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ★

“oh my gosh, hello!” the sing-songy voice spouts from a gorgeous dark haired girl, tinted a shade of red resembling a plum. she looks sweet, sharp eyes, a cute round nose. she smells sweet, like a ripe apple spiced with cinnamon on a nice autumn day. she grins at you with glossed pink lips while shoving a notepad within her apron pocket. “you must be the new girl. welcome to bop and bite, darlin’. my name is cherry. braxton told me we’d be gettin’ a new hire today.”

her infectious glee is enough to bring a pleased look to the surface of your face. there’s a bit of a southern twang that weaves through her words. it makes you tilt your head in curiosity but you don’t ask. instead, you run your hands along the skirt of your pressed uniform and grin back. “oh, i’m ⭐︎. it’s so nice to meet you. are you going to be training me?”

“oh, no. mrs. glen’s gone’ be trainin’ you. she’s super sweet. a real sugar pie. there’s this whole seniority thing and she has really good scores so,” cherry turns away from you, facing her distorted  reflection in the mint green countertops. they’re shiny enough to strain your eyes, reflecting the bright yellow lighting directly into your face. she bends over the open space and, what you’d soon learn as classic cherry fashion, rakes her fingers through her hair with a black elastic held tight within her teeth. “don’t worry, honey. you’ll be in great hands.”

you watch her tie her hair back, looking over the countertops at the empty booths and unoccupied bar stools. perhaps you’ve gotten far too dressed up compared to everyone else but really, can you be blamed for that? you half-assed makeup routine usually consisted of a light layer of a light layer of concealer,  a smooth line of eyeliner on the lower lids, blush, highlight, all the works. you just thought, since it is your first day, why not leave a good impression with a sugared face and an even sugared smile. there’s a second, just one, where you wonder if you went a little overboard, but those thoughts are dissolved the moment cherry looks up at you, placing a soft hand on your forearm.

“you know, you’re as pretty as a peach. you’ll make some real good tips workin’ here, i think. they love a real doll face.” she squeezes your arm before turning and leaving you to your own devices.

you stand there for a moment, glancing around the colorful room. that’s the thing with new places. it’s fun, it’s cool, it’s a change of pace and exciting, but it ends there. you don’t have roots, not yet at least. it causes more breaks in your productivity then you’d like. it’s occupied with nothing but silence and conversation where you can. like any other person, you fill that silence by pulling your phone out of your pocket. the plastic case is cool against your hand and you tap the tempered glass to display your lock screen. it blurs and shifts upon the sight of your face and you’re welcome, unfortunately, by a text message. not one you’re looking forward to.

mom: When are you coming back home? This is a waste of time and you know it

you roll your eyes the moment the words register in your brain. it doesn’t come as a shock to you, not really. if you were going to be honest with yourself, you knew it was going to come soon. the arguments about your decision, their displeasure at your desire to pursue an acting career, them insisting you couldn’t afford to live on their own. of course, they’re right. you can’t. that’s why you’re pulling doubles at bop and bite in hopes of having enough for rent and spare time to make it to casting calls, even if it’s for another mundane background character.

you click your tongue against the tip of your mouth, deciding it’s better off not to respond back than informing her that you are, still, very serious about your commitment. even if it meant you had to live in a somewhat cramped studio apartment until you could afford something better — which will probably be never. at least, not any time in the future that you can see. your thumb swipes against the glass, clearing the message from your screen and hopefully, your brain.

you drop your phone back into your apron pocket by the time the presumed mrs. glen makes her appearance. she looks sweet, as cherry said. a smile, salt and pepper hair, seasoned wrinkles. she wears her uniform all the same, thin frilly socks and little heeled mary ones clicking against the hard floor tiles. her thin gold bracelets dangle as she keys herself in to the register. her hair is pulled tight, flipped ponytail swinging as she saunters.

mrs. glen glances at you, eyes scanning along your frame. you pique her interest. you and you’re . . . smallness. your small personality, the small amount of space you take up. perhaps it’s because you’re in an unfamiliar place but you don’t stand as bold as someone who would need to work here. “you move here from somewhere? ⭐︎, right? you have that newcomer thing about you.”

you are a bit more jittery than you realize or even care to admit. it’s embarrassing how you stumble to turn towards her, hands interlaced in front of your body and palms facing up. “oh, yes ma’am. i moved here from a small town. i actually just settled and everything yesterday.” your curls, tied back neatly in two, spring and bounce in place. you’ve taken great care to wash, detangle, moisturize, and stretch them to have the prettiest impression you possibly could.

“mm, i can tell,” it’s meant to be nothing, words just tossed out into the air but mrs. glen misses the slight twitch of your eyebrow, “anyway, you’ll be following me around today as my shadow. once you get the hang of it, you’ll be taking drink orders and making them. it’s a slow process. customers are picky; they want a particular service. we open in five minutes so stay close. yes?” this time, she faces you. her eyes, dark like sweetened chocolate chips, hold you where you are.

she’s stern, you can tell by the way she just stares at you, expectantly. cherry said she’s “a real sugar pie” but in this moment, you feel more like she’s firmer than a pine knot. “yes ma’am. i’ll be right beside you.”

[lou-struck]

Just Take One

Mammon x reader

Flufftober Day 1- Candy Bowl

WC: 1.6k

~ You take Mammon out Trick or Treating for the first time and his Greed catches up with him in the sweetest way possible.

Your time as an exchange student in the Devildom has made the unusual, a usual occurrence in your life. You have grown accustomed to Witches, Wizards, Vampires, Angels, Demons, and other creatures passing you in the streets of the Devildom.

But now, you are back in the human world on Hallows Eve. 

The Devildom celebrates Halloween, of course, but Trick or Treating isn’t really a thing; instead of going door to door accepting treats from Demons and Incubi, everyone dons their favorite costumes and parties till dawn.

But when Mammon heard that in the human world, you go door to door getting free candy from Humans, The Avatar of Greed got a special kind of glint in his sapphire eyes, the kind that he gets when he comes up with a Get rich quick scheme. and begged you to take him out Trick Or Treating. 

Although his intentions were not exactly noble, you found yourself unable to say no to the Great Mammon’s pleading gaze.

So now you find yourself wearing a witch costume belonging to one of Asmodeus’s past lovers as Mammon shifts into his Demon form. The green light from the portal shines on both your faces, glowing brighter and brighter as it swallows the two of you whole.

~

The portal pops the two of you to a human world suburb. Each and every house on the street is covered in decorative cobwebs, lights, and ghoulish decorations. 

The air is crisp and smells like apples and cinnamon as you walk down the street. “Are ya sure it’s alright for me to be out like this?” Mammon asks, catching a look at his horned reflection staring back at him. 

“Don’t worry, Mammon, Halloween is the night of the year that demons can blend in with the rest of the Human world. People will just think that you are wearing a really good costume.” You explain passing a group of teenage girls who cannot keep their eyes off of the handsome Demon. 

The sun has hardly set, but trick-or-treaters are out and about too focused on the prospect of free candy to notice the subtle magic happening right in front of them.

A little group of superheroes passes the two of you with their pumpkin buckets half full of candy.

“Do we need those to get our candy?” Mammon asks, his little wings twitching in anticipation; maybe it’s not just the grimm he’s excited for.

 “We will need something, but those buckets don’t hold a lot of candy.” you say, “and I hope you’ll give some to Beel when you get back; he’d be heartbroken if you didn’t.”

“Yeah, yeah, but then I’ll really need something bigger,” he says dejectedly, furrowing his brows in thought. 

“No worries, I got us covered,” you say happily, reaching out into your bag and pulling out two large pillowcases.

“That’s smart,” the Demon says. Most likely imagining how much candy he could fit inside the sheet. “I’ll make a killing on these human world treats when we get back to the Devildom, just like that Kitkat you had in your…” Mammon tries to cut himself off, but the damage has been done.”

“My Kitkat?” you say sharply, knowing the king-sized bar you thought you brought back from the Human world the last time you visited. But when the time came to unpack, it wasn’t in your bag.” You sold my KitKat?”

His eyes go wide as he frantically tries to come up with an excuse. But he can’t. Not when it’s you.” S-sorry Mc. I meant to tell ya, but I forgot.”

You roll your eyes and give him a hard yet playful flick to the forehead. “It’s fine, but you owe me,” 

I’ll give ya all the KitKats in my bag.” He offers as if he hasn’t just confessed to stealing your treat moments before. 

“That, and I get to pick from whatever king-size bars you get tonight.” you counter; he opens his mouth to counter but can’t seem to disagree with you.

“Fine, ya win. But don’t tell anyone the Great Mammon has gone soft.” he huffs, twisting the empty off-white pillowcase in his tanned hands. 

We’ll come on then; we have a lot of houses to hit if we want to fill our bags. You grin, reaching your free hand over to grab his other hand that is not holding a pillowcase, and drag the now-blushing Demon towards the first of many houses.

~

The two of you have been at it for an hour now and, despite your age, have amassed quite a large amount of candy. A few homes actually gave the two of you bigger handfuls since your costumes were so ‘authentic.’ Elderly ladies, especially, thought Mammon was the sweetest young man they had ever seen and poured a big portion of their bowl into his pillowcase with a giggle and a wink.

In the back of your mind, you wonder how quickly those little smiles would disappear if they were to discover it was a real demon on their doorsteps, not a costumed one.

He hasn’t noticed it yet, but the pillowcase you gave him was enchanted by Solomon to never fill completely. As you watch a teenager boredly dump some candy into the pillowcase, you bite the inside of your cheek. The pillowcase would’ve been great to have when you were younger, for sure.

Forty or so houses down the line, the two of you come across a sparsely decorated porch with a large bowl of candy left out on the welcome mat. 

Two things capture your attention. The first being a simply penned sign taped to the front of the dark plastic. 

‘Please Take One

The second is the mechanical candy arm that looms ominous over the bowl of sweets, threatening to clamp down on whatever crosses its path. You remember these from Halloween’s past; they are motion-activated and grab hands that move past them as a harmless little Halloween trick.

It’s obviously there to protect the bowl. But Mammon’s greed has him incapable of focusing on anything but the bowl of candy in front of him.

“Mc, we can empty this whole thing, and no one would know.” He grins, taking a step on the wooden porch. The boards creak slightly under his boots as he strides over to the bowl.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Mammon,” you warn, reaching into the back pocket of your costume to take out your DDD. If this thing is going to go down the way you think it will, you are sure Lucifer and the others would love to see it caught on video.

He turns and looks back at you confidently, “Ya worry too much, Mc.” he beams, puffing out his chest. “Silly Humans knew what was we’re gonna do the minute they chose to leave the candy out here.”

“Alright, Mammon, if that’s really what you wanna do, then I won’t stop you.” you sigh, shrugging your shoulders in mock surrender, making sure to hide the camera lens sneakily behind the pillowcase to capture all the action. 

Mammon reaches for the edge of the candy bowl, his fingers carelessly knocking over the little sign. 

All of a sudden, a ghoulish, shrinking sound erupts from the bowl, and the mechanical arm swats down into the bowl. Mammon yelps in fright, dropping the bowl and his pillowcase of candy onto the porch. Candy goes flying everywhere, landing on the wood with a thud. A look of fear in his eyes as he turns tail and runs toward you, his wings flapping frantically as he reaches for you. “Mc, we gotta go; that thing is possessed or somethin.”

He grabs you firmly by the arm and tries to pull you to safety, but your feet stay firmly planted on the ground. You end the recording and laugh, “Mammon, look, it’s okay; it was only a prank.” you say, pointing back at the bowl that continues its mechanical movements. The little hand flailing around robotically. 

“What kind of prank was that?” he breathes out exasperatedly as you guide him back to the front porch. “The thing almost killed me.”

“Nope, you’re fine,” you respond, grinning at his over-the-top exaggeration. Knowing he has been subjected to harsher punishments back in the Devildom than just a mechanical slap on the wrist. 

Mammon’s cheeks are pink as he sheepishly walks back up to the porch to get his pillowcase, picking up the fallen candy bars from the bowl along the way. “Ya could’ve warned me.” He huffs, setting the candy bowl upright and replacing the collected candy inside it. The mechanical hand goes off again, causing Mammon to flinch slightly. But when the little hand barely taps him, he lets out a laugh. 

“See, that wasn’t terrible now, was it?” you tease, ruffling the snow-white hair between his curly horns. “Should we get going to the next house, or are you too scared?”

“That was nothin,” he laughs, taking two pieces of candy from the bowl and tossing one over to you. “The Chiuauuah hits harder than that thing. Let’s go, Mc. We got a big night ahead of us.” He steps off the porch and looks eagerly at the rows and rows of houses beyond. Each one promises candy and future riches for the both of you.

“Sounds good to me,” you say, taking his hand and letting him lead you towards the next house. In the back of your mind, you wonder what other funny little videos you can take of Mammon to show everyone once you get back. 

Tagging: @eussstasss @enchantedforest-network

[pilot-boi]

What are everyone’s favourite cereals in RRAYENNBOW? And you can include Qrow and mercury if you want to

And I SHALL include them

Ruby: Special K. She doesn’t actually have that much of a sweet tooth, and she’s gotta stay fit. Plus it has strawberries and turns the milk pink

Weiss: Doesn’t really eat cereal (coffee or death) but if she has to choose, probably Chex. She just thinks they’re neat

Blake: Gonna go with Honey Bunches of Oats. First of all, bees. Second of all, they remind her of the good times on the road with granola bars and what not

Yang: Kix. I know she’s the punch girl, but come on. Tell me she wouldn’t love Kix. Wish I had more to say about this one, but I just feel it in my bones

Jaune: Used to be Pumpkin Pete’s, but then ya know. Also he never really liked it that much, he just wanted the hoodie really badly. So i don’t know why but i really see him liking Cinnamon Toast Crunch

Pyrrha: Life (jkjk) Health nut that she is, it’s not one of the super sugary ones. But it’s also not like… bran flakes. Unironically think she’d really love Honey Nut Cheerios

Nora: Fucking Sugar Blast Supremes or something, let’s be real. She hoards the cereals from Halloween time, Count Chocula, and Boo Berry, and Frankenberry. Just the most synthetic shit you’ve ever seen

Ren: Raisin Bran. Because he’s a monster. He actually really likes it, but he hates the texture of the raisins in the milk, so he painstakingly removes every raisin, eats all the cereal, and then eats all the raisins

Oscar: He didn’t get a lot of cereal brands out on the farm, lots of morning oatmeal and eggs and whatnot. But once he made it to the big city, he absolutely fell in love with Froot Loops. And yes, he gets teased relentlessly for liking the most kiddy cereal ever

Emerald: Think she’d really like Apple Cinnamon Cheerios. Or just normal Cheerios. In milk, or just plain, she loves those things. They were cheap to buy (or steal) so they were one of the few cereals she actually had

Mercury: Reese’s Puffs. With his dad, it was only healthy food, or nothing at all. But he’d see the commercials on TV. So after killing Marcus, I kid you not, Mercury ate nothing but Reese’s Puffs for like a week. And then he was sick. But it was worth it. And yes, he knows the entire rap

Qrow: Again, like Weiss, coffee or death. But I feel like he’d also like Honey Nut Cheerios. I really don’t know why, they’re so un-Qrow. But maybe that’s exactly why he’d like them

[dullgecko]

I always forget about Adaine so have a big list

Adaine's favourite food is pancakes because she'd never had them with her parents and Jawbone's are to DIE for

She gets migraines because of her visions

Sometimes she has nightmares of visions of every time something her friends have done could have gone horribly wrong (usually where it would have resulted in death)

Adaine used to get night terrors before starting her meds

Adaine makes very good scones

She is pen pals with Ayda, even when they're in the same room

She carries around extra food because once she did research into Orcs and discovered how (unintentionally) underfed Gorgug is. She began holding even more when Fabian collapsed during Junior Year bc he couldn't find any fried rice for a couple days and was too stressed and busy to ask anyone for food

She is the classic worrywart. Her and Kristen (the only member of the Bad Kids you should trust with children besides Gorgug) bring extra supplies when they go on adventures

Her favourite time of day is midnight because of the constellations

Adaine's favourite food is pancakes because she'd never had them with her parents and Jawbone's are to DIE for

Its the love, she can TASTE it. Honestly she loves anything Jawbone cooks for them, but pancakes were the first and hold a special place in her heart.

She gets migraines because of her visions

She knows a vision is coming because she'll start getting migraine auras first, then once the vision has passed she'll often get the full blown 'someone just shoot me and put me out of my misery' headaches. Not every time though, Jawbone takes her to a doctor to get some decent painkillers which she takes when she starts getting coloured blobs floating around in her vision and it usually helps. Sometimes though it might as well have been nothing. Her and Riz are often migraine misery buddies, but she's not small enough to zip herself into a dark backpack and ride them out most of the time.

Sometimes she has nightmares of visions of every time something her friends have done could have gone horribly wrong (usually where it would have resulted in death)

Weird side effect of being able to gaze down the possible paths of the future. Sometimes while trancing she'll jump tracks and accidentally look at the future of a different timeline where things have gone horribly wrong. Her least favorite one so far was a vision of the night on Laviathan where Fabian was possessed, he skipped over the Hangman and stabbed Riz, and by the time anyone got into the room it was too late and they lost two friends.

Adaine used to get night terrors before starting her meds

She still does, in a way, but at least she can distinguish them as visions and not reality anymore. Elves arent even SUPPOSED to dream so her parents probably clocked on that some oracle schenanigans were going on before the previous one even died if she had them as a small kid.

Adaine makes very good scones

Baking, Wizardry. Same thing. She grates up apples into them and puts cinnamon sugar on top.

She is pen pals with Ayda, even when they're in the same room

They sometimes write letters to eachother while sitting next to eachother. They get sealed up in envelopes, exchanged, but they're not allowed to read them until later. Thats just how it goes.

She carries around extra food because once she did research into Orcs and discovered how (unintentionally) underfed Gorgug is. She began holding even more when Fabian collapsed during Junior Year bc he couldn't find any fried rice for a couple days and was too stressed and busy to ask anyone for food

If she hasnt used her jacket much that day, she'll spend a couple charges every night pulling out high-calorie ration bars. Gorgug gets one every morning as a second breakfast and he's bemused somewhat the first time. Its to the point where his stomach growls every time he see's Adaine now which the whole group finds hilarious.

She is the classic worrywart. Her and Kristen (the only member of the Bad Kids you should trust with children besides Gorgug) bring extra supplies when they go on adventures

She has anxiety, its a coping mechanism. If your brain is constantly telling you of all the bad things that could possibly happen you try to shut it up by being /prepared/.

Her favourite time of day is midnight because of the constellations

She loves the stars, thats how she got into divination in the first place. The view of the sky isnt so great in Elmville because of light polution, but after her four hours of trancing she'll usually spend a couple hours stareing at the sky.