#otherwise he says only coffee ingredients
Text
— COOKIES
order #6 of the coffee shop series: a cookie
ingredients. y/n x barista!felix. he’s never had a gf before. hopeless pining on felix’s end. mostly fluff with some angst. also the boys keep trying to play shitty wingmen again.
allergies. making out and felix being awkward
size. 3.2k
special add ons. felix is a sociable, confident, kind barista at yellow wood café. but once you show up on one rainy day, you turn him into a mess.
you hadn’t prepared for the rain to come so quickly.
the forecast had said that it would only pick up in the afternoon, and you figured that you would be home by then. so of course, you had left your umbrella at home.
you decided to run into the nearest building, hoping to stay there until the rain had died down a little.
it was a coffee shop, one that you hadn’t been to before. you had no clue how you didn’t know the place existed. it seemed like just your type of hang-out spot.
the difference between the café and outside was stark. looking through the windows, it was gloomy and intense, while inside, the atmosphere was warm and cozy. the smell of coffee brewing and people chatting filled your senses.
“can i help you?” you had been staring off for a minute now, your entire body drenched in rain.
“sorry,” you apologized, “i was just looking for somewhere to be until the rain stopped.”
“you’re alright! could i get anything for you while you wait?”
your eyes stared the barista up and down. he was around your age— and was the epitome of sunshine. his features were gentle and strikingly beautiful.
his name tag read “felix.”
then, you drifted towards the menu on the counter, written in chalk, slightly smudged.
“are the cookies any good?” you questioned, staring at the cute plastic containers full of baked goods, specifically the heart-shaped chocolate chip cookies.
“well, i baked them myself, so they better be good.” felix’s shy smile told you that he was proud of his baking.
“i’ll buy one and see for myself.”
usually, the freckled barista wasn’t nervous at comments like these, but your gentle eyes made his heart flip in ways that he didn’t quite understand. “will that be all?”
“for now.”
he rang you up, handing you the cookies straight out of the container.
without waiting to sit down, you bit into the cookie.
two of felix’s fingers met his neck, checking his pulse quickly— a nervous habit of his.
but his nerves turned into excitement as your eyes lit up.
“i’ll take two more cookies and a mocha, please!”
felix couldn’t help but smile widely, “our muffins are really good too. we have blueberry and chocolate chip right now, but i’m working on a recipe for a cappuccino muffin.”
you cut his ramble short, “i’ll try both. and a brownie.”
“got a sweet tooth?” he rolled up the sleeves of his baby blue cardigan to begin making your mocha, “i don’t want you to get any cavities.”
“i’ll have just one bite of each and bring it home with me,” you reasoned, taking a stool at the bar, “i have nothing better to do, anyway. the rain says it’ll last for another hour.”
“so you’re gonna spend that hour taste-testing the treats?”
“i’ve never been here before, i better start working on my regular order.”
“will you be a new regular?”
“if the mocha is good. otherwise i think i’ll just go back out into the rain, i’m already drenched anyway.”
there you go again. causing felix to worry about how good his barista skills were in a way that nobody does.
he couldn’t help but drizzle a chocolate heart on top before handing it to you.
immediately felix jumped back. “your hands are freezing!”
“that’s what happens when you’re in the rain.”
you couldn’t help but chuckle at felix’s concern. it wasn’t bad at all.
“i think this goes against every rule we have here,” felix shrugged off his cardigan, throwing it across the counter.
immediately your quiet laugh died down, your stomach twisting with butterflies. mostly at how kind the freckled boy was, but you couldn’t ignore the way that the white shirt under it clung to him tighter.
“thank you.” you wrapped yourself in the cardigan, breathing in a faint scent of a fruity perfume, almost masked by the overwhelming smell of coffee.
“felix,” chan, his boss, nudged him with a grin, “did you just do what i think you did?”
if it were any other barista, they would’ve been scolded. but felix had taken up a large spot in chan’s heart, one that meant that he refused to rebuke the boy.
“she was cold! right, y/n?” he defended, “she just came in from the rain outside.”
“so you’re just gonna give every customer your clothes if they’re cold?”
you could see a faint red tint forming on felix’s ears, “well no! but she’s new, i wanted to give her a warm welcome.”
there was a familiar look in chan’s eyes, one that felix could spot from miles away. one of knowing.
“alright then. i’m glad you were able to earn us a new customer. even if it meant giving up your clothes.”
“do you have any paper?” you interrupted with a mouthful of muffin, “and maybe a pen too?”
felix was thankful that you saved him from chan. “yeah! i’ll get it for you. hold on.”
thirty minutes later, once a spot of sunlight through the clouds had appeared, you were gone.
felix glanced over at your spot, sadness pulling on his heart, full of what if’s.
what if you didn’t come back? what if that was the last time he would see you?
he noticed the piece of paper left behind.
the title read, “felix’s bakery ranking.”
first place was the cookies. second was the brownies. then the chocolate chip muffin, then the blueberry.
“she must love chocolate,” felix jumped at jeongin’s voice from behind him, “she also got a mocha, right?”
“how do you know? you weren’t even here.”
“chan was telling the group chat.”
“he was doing what?” felix reached for the phone in his back pocket to confirm his words.
“talking about how you were mesmerized by that girl.”
“was not!”
“you totally were,” chan patted his back, “i’ve never seen you smile that wide.”
“says a lot for how much he smiles.”
felix groaned as jeongin flipped over the scrap paper.
“see you at 3 tomorrow,” he read out, looking up at felix whose eyes widened, turning to chan.
“i don’t work tomorrow! can i work tomorrow?”
“so it isn’t just you being kind?”
“i need to get my cardigan back.”
“you’re a terrible liar. just admit that you want to see her again.”
“just schedule me to work tomorrow!”
the next day, felix was walking on clouds.
the boy normally walked with a pep in his step, serving customers with a comfortable kindness that nobody else could replicate, but today there was an extra hint of sweetness to everything that he did. even some of the most unobservant customers had pointed it out.
but each of the boys knew exactly why he was acting the way that he was, thanks to the messages that chan had sent.
as the vintage clock on the wall inched closer and closer to 3, felix became more dazed, clumsy even.
“are you sure that he should be working right now?” minho shot chan a questioning look.
“just let him get it out of his system.”
“but we’re cleaning up his spill messes all for a girl that he had one conversation with. he’s hopeless.”
“i don’t even think he’s had a girlfriend before.”
“really?” minho’s eyebrows raised, “with how all of the girls stick to him like glue?”
“i don’t think he knows how much of a heartthrob he is.”
chan glanced towards felix, who was busy chatting with two girls who had stopped by just a few minutes ago, “he’s clueless sometimes.”
the bell on the door rang as you stepped in, blue sweater in hand, eyes darting across the room to find the blonde boy who immediately abandoned his conversation.
“i came to return this,” you slid it across the counter, just as felix had done the previous day, “and get a cookie as well.”
“just the cookie?”
“and a mocha.”
“your total will be—“
“just give it to her for free,” chan whispered from behind, trying to help the frantic boy.
“it’ll be free today,” felix stumbled on his words, “and maybe i could heat the cookies for you too? they’re better warm.”
“that would be great,” you took a seat at the same spot as before, “your customer service is top tier. free service and a cardigan on a rainy day?”
“we try.” felix couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face, or take his eyes off of you.
even when you weren’t paying attention to him, typing on your laptop and munching on a cookie, he would stare at you, just barely hiding behind the espresso machine.
“why don’t you ask for her number?”
felix jumped as yet another barista appeared from behind him— something that had been happening too much recently. or perhaps he was just less focused on his surroundings.
“i can’t do that. what if she rejects me?”
“she would’ve let you down by now, do you know how obvious you’re making it?” hyunjin tried to reason with him.
“i guess that’s true, but i’m nervous. she’s really pretty.”
“so? you’re pretty too.”
felix gave the compliment a light laugh, “but she’s intimidatingly pretty.”
he kept an eye on the way your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, your finger tapping to the rhythm of the café’s record player on the table.
“you’re such a hopeless romantic. just get her number. she’s gonna leave again and you’re gonna be upset that you didn’t.”
“maybe.”
with those words in mind, felix shyly approached you, hands fumbling with the hem of his shirt.
“hey,” he started, almost chickening out just from your eye contact.
his fingers went to his throat, checking his pulse, “do you think i could get your number?”
when you stared at him in silent shock for a moment, he continued, “not as, like, a weird thing! i just want to be your friend.”
he could see hyunjin out of the corner of his eye, ready to pull out his hair in frustration.
your smile faltered, but you still took the phone from his hand, saving your name as y/n.
“text me later.” there was a hint of sadness in your voice that felix didn’t fail to pick up on, but he didn’t dare to comment on it.
he ran off into the back room, ready to scream over the most embarrassing, disappointing moment in his entire life.
hyunjin followed close behind, “felix! what the hell?”
“i got nervous!”
“so you decided to friend-zone her?”
“she could’ve friend zoned me first!”
“she obviously wasn’t going to!”
“but if she did then i think i’d die!”
hyunjin was close to slamming his head against the nearest wall. “i’m gonna die right now if you don’t walk back out there and tell her that you’ve spent the whole day thinking about how pretty she is!”
“she’ll think i’m weird!”
“then i’ll do it!” felix tried to hold him back but failed as hyunjin opened the door, only to be met with an empty spot where you used to be.
felix let go, his shoulders dropping.
“where is she?”
“i guess she left,” hyunjin turned to see his devastated friend.
“did i fuck up that badly?”
hyunjin bit his lip, trying not to make it worse for him than it already was. but the truth was that, yeah, he did.
“maybe she’ll be back.”
felix texted you that night while he sat in bed, deciding on, “hi it’s felix! :)”
he kept his cardigan next to him.
perhaps it was a little creepy, but he decided to sniff it. it smelled different than usual. perhaps that’s what you smelled like.
perhaps he would never even get to know what you smelled like.
tears brimmed his eyes as he shut off his phone, staring up at the fan on his ceiling, letting the noise drown out the eerie silence.
felix wanted to slap himself for being such an idiot. he had no problem talking to people, he was the most extroverted extrovert that an extrovert could get. but he couldn’t help but question everything he did in front of you, even if he had just met you.
you didn’t respond.
when felix showed up to work the next day, it was like the sunshine was hidden behind a rainy cloud.
he knew that it shouldn’t have affected him as much as it did. he knew that checking to see if he got a text every minute wasn’t normal, or whip his head toward the door every time a customer came in.
so felix spent another night in his bed, phone in hand, staring at the text that he sent.
would it just be easier to forget about you? it’s not like he had anything going with you anyway.
it was only when he set it down for the night and closed his eyes that it began to ring, and he sprang right back up, eyes widening as he stared at the caller ID.
it was minho.
“hello?” felix answered, voice filled with sleep.
“you were upset at work today,” he stated, “is it because of that girl?”
“you could see it?”
“everyone could. like we always do.”
“i’m just gonna try to forget about it.”
“don’t.”
“what do you mean?”
“you have her number, right? come clean, text her that you were nervous. ask to meet up.”
“like a date?”
“exactly. ask her on a date.”
felix chewed on his lip, anxiety clouding his judgment once again. would he have the courage to even do that?
“chan said that you’re not allowed to work until you sort out your sadness. and nobody wants to cover your shifts, man.”
when minho hung up the phone, felix laid back against his pillows, letting out a breath of air that he didn’t know he was holding. then he checked his pulse.
opening your texts, he began typing. ‘i lied. it was something weird. you’re really pretty. you can block me if you want.’
he deleted the message.
‘actually,’
no.
‘i meant to ask for your number in a not-friend-way,’
no.
‘sorry for the other day. i was anxious and said the wrong thing, but i really wanted your number because i think you’re gorgeous. do you want to go out sometime?’
he sent the message and resisted the urge to chuck his phone across the room. instead, he threw it back down onto the bed, grabbing the nearest pillow and squeezing it as hard as he could.
minutes later, felix heard his phone buzz. he scrambled to pick it up.
‘that’s ok. i was a little disappointed, you’re rly cute :)’
it buzzed again.
‘wanna come over tomorrow and watch a movie or something?’
his fingers shook, trying to type back, ‘sounds great! does 5 work?’
you reacted to his text with a thumbs up, and then he was back to squeezing the pillow.
felix didn’t work the next day. instead, he spent the day showering, squealing, spam-texting friends, and preparing for his first-ever date.
when you opened the doorbell, you were met with quite possibly the cutest sight in the entire world.
there felix was, holding a box of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies in his shaky hands. “i baked these for you, kind of as an apology, kind of because i wanted to impress you. and i know you like the cookies.”
you giggled at his honesty, letting him inside as you took the box, “thank you felix, you’re such a sweetheart.”
he checked his pulse.
“sorry for the mess. i tried to clean a little, but i don’t have people over often.”
“it’s okay,” he was quick to reassure you, “my house doesn’t look all that clean either. kind of comes with being a human.”
you laughed, taking a seat on the couch. he followed your actions.
“so, about the whole number thing,” he toyed with the rip on his black jeans.
“i thought you were really really beautiful.”
suddenly, he was way too aware of how close you were to him. but he wouldn’t let himself get nervous again.
“one of my coworkers was telling me to ask for your number and i was nervous and thought that you wouldn’t like me like that.”
felix sighed, “so i ended up saying the wrong thing and giving you the wrong idea.”
when he looked back up, you were smiling, holding in laughter. “that’s honestly adorable.”
“really?”
“i got sad, i thought you were just that kind to everyone and that i was developing some crazy ego thinking that a boy as attractive as you would like me.”
“you think i’m attractive?” his ears were on fire by now, completely stiff as you leaned in to look him in the eyes.
“i don’t understand how you don’t know how attractive you are.”
“what do you mean?”
“do i have to spell it out for you?”
“probably.”
“i think you’re gorgeous.”
“i also think the same about you. you looked so cute eating all happily, and when you smile, it makes me want to kiss you.” he chewed his lip, trying to not regret his bold words.
something tense was in the air, something that made felix’s heart pound a thousand times faster.
“then do it.”
felix froze. was he supposed to tell you that he had never kissed a girl before, much less sat this close to one?
“well, are you going to? or are you getting shy again?”
“i’ve never kissed anyone.” he let his heart thud out of his chest at the confession.
your eyes visibly widened, “you? you haven’t had your first kiss?”
“or held hands with a girl. and i’ve never had a girlfriend.”
“that’s impossible.”
“i don’t know how to prove it.”
“your awkwardness does the job.”
you decided to make a move, “but i can show you how if you’d like.”
felix’s mouth went dry, unsure of what to do or say.
“it’ll come naturally. just let it happen,” you smiled reassuringly as he nodded.
climbing onto his open lap, your hands carded through his blonde hair.
you leaned in to meet his lips briefly, his eyes burning into your own.
it was a soft and gentle kiss, just like him. but his eyes were full of desire for more.
“can i have another?” his hands met your back, pulling you into him.
this time, the kiss lasted longer, so much longer that he began craving more of you, so he did what he saw in all the movies.
he slipped his tongue into your mouth, grinning against your lips in pride at his actions.
felix’s hands traveled to your waist as took your word, letting go of his anxieties and doing what came naturally.
and without even realizing it, he began to take the lead.
all of the feelings were overwhelming. the way that you tugged on his hair, how close your bodies were, the way your tongue felt against his own.
he never wanted to stop.
until his phone began ringing.
you pulled away and he let out a shaky breath, slowly opening his eyes to stare at your features up close.
“felix, your phone,” you reminded him.
he jolted out of the daze, reaching for it.
chan.
he was about to just cancel the call when he saw the spam texts, asking where he was.
with a heavy sigh, he answered with you still on his lap.
“did you make up with y/n?”
“be quiet! i’m with her right now!”
you let out a laugh.
“oh! tell her hi!”
felix hung up on his friend with a groan, turning the ringer off.
“can we go back to kissing again?”
“after he’s done blowing you up,” you pointed at the buzzing phone.
#skz#stray kids#lee felix#lee felix smut#stray kids reactions#stray kids imagine#stray kids scenarios#stray kids fanfic#stray kids blurbs#stray kids imagines#felix fluff#felix imagines#felix#skz fanfiction#skz scenarios#skz fluff#skz x reader#skz masterlist#skz stay#skz fanfic#skz imagines#skz smut#stray kids fluff#stray kids lee yongbok#lee yongbok#yongbok x y/n#felix x y/n#felix x reader#skz x y/n#stray kids x y/n
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waittt so, in your opinion, how would poly!141 start? that poly!141/reader drabble you posted earlier has me curious!
I think it starts as an accident
I think it starts with the team already being close, with you working alongside them for some time. There's a deep seated bond that runs through you all, a well oiled machine with many parts that works in sync. You trust them with your life without even having to ask, and they in turn trust you. You've seem their blood on your hands, they've hauled you by the straps of your vest to safety, you know the sounds of their voices like they belong in your bones.
It's entirely coincidental. It starts as something that just happens. A purely whimsical indulgence that is the result of just the right ingredients. With you all exhausted post mission, inhibitions lowered by a few drinks, shooting the shit with bantering words until someone slips and says what they're really thinking, what they're all thinking. That they want you.
It's no secret Soap and Ghost have an arrangement by this point, it's hard not to notice with them (They think they're subtle but they aren't) and you've long suspected there's more to Gaz and Price's relationship that meets the eye. The evening that follows doesn't just confirm your suspicions, it suffocates any other potential otherwise. It works only because it's them, because they already know you and can tell exactly what you need, understand even the flutter of your eyes as they wind their bare bodies around you.
The next morning is...different. You expect them to pull away, to pretend like it was just a one time fling. You see they are expecting the same, tiptoeing around you like you're ready to say something blunt, some along the lines of 'This never happened.'
You find the words dying in your chest as Price pushes a mug of coffee into your hands, the boys lingering around the kitchen and communicating silently amongst themselves with darting gazes and levied stares.
"So." You say at last, watching the steam curl from your cup, feeling yourself draw their collective stare.
"...Us?"
There's a pause, the air taut, and you think it might snap, might send you hurtling down into disappointment and regret.
Then, Price finally lets out a long, steady breath of relief.
"Us." He confirms quietly, and when you look up the smiles of the four men around you wash away any doubts inside your heart.
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Humans have the tendency to put poisonous plants in their mout and enjoy eating it ( coffee and anything that has effects of being spicy like chili peppers and weirdly we have the habit to eat things that are not good for us )
Like imagine anyone seeing the local human eating grapes out in the open or trying to make coffee?
Better yet eating chili peppers they found and make it part of their lunch
It'll be wild
If it looks edible, humans will put it in their mouth. That’s a fact of life—but not exactly a good idea sometimes! :V
Put a human in a world full of humanoid monsters where certain foods are toxic or can give them really bad tummy aches? You’ll either get a human complaining about a craving for something not readily available, or you’ll get this:
Yuu: *glancing around before sneakily eating bag of grapes*
Sebek: “Human! What are you eating?!”
Yuu: *freezes, shoving the grapes in their mouth before taking off at top speed*
Sebek: “HUMAN!! Get back here!!!”
*two hours later*
Ace: “Did you have to chase them up a tree?”
Sebek: “It’s not as if I intended to do so! The human shouldn’t have been hiding what they were eating in the first place. They are not a chipmunk!”
Yuu: *sitting on a branch high up, eating more grapes* “This is fine.”
Jack: “Wait, where did that bag come from?”
//----//
Granted, moments like these will calm down quite a bit once it’s clear that Yuu is—in fact—safe. But if the local human happens to be allergic to certain ingredients or foods, they’d better be prepared for quick hands swiping their food or getting tackled and rushed to the nurse’s office/the researchers. When the discovery that some monster students possess human DNA, this opens up a whole new world of food possibilities for them to try! In a supervised environment of course, and more on a volunteer basis just to ensure student safety.
Otherwise, Yuu will gain some snack buddies! 😃
Now, when it comes to mini!Yuu, as all little kids do, it’s highly likely that the toddler will try to put random things in their mouth.
//----//
Mini!Yuu: *playing in Jade and Floyd’s room, climbing up on Jade’s desk while Floyd isn’t looking and picking up a mushroom* “Oooh.” *goes to put it in mouth*
Floyd: “Eh, Shrimpy, what’s—Shrimpy, no!!” *bolts over and grabs the mushroom, holding it high over his head* “Don’t eat that!”
Mini!Yuu: “Why?”
Floyd: “Because mushrooms are disgusting. Bleck!”
Jade: *walks in carrying a small terrarium* “I thought I heard a commotion. Did something happen while I was away for a moment?”
Floyd: “Jade, little Shrimpy almost ate one of your mushrooms! Didn’t Azul tell you to keep your stuff away from them?”
Jade: “They did, did they? Oh my…I was only gone for a minute. Fufufu…well, it’s wonderful knowing that you were watching out for them, though I assure you that this particular mushroom is perfectly safe. It is a pearl oyster mushroom, one of the most commonly used in cooking. I had hoped to make a small terrarium of perfectly safe and non-toxic mushrooms for our dear little Yuu.”
Mini!Yuu: “I wanna try the mushy!”
Jade: “Of course, little one. Would you like to help me build your terrarium?”
Mini!Yuu: “Yes!”
Floyd: *groans*
//----//
And thus began the tiny toddler’s first part of the collection of terrariums and Floyd suffering. Jade’s just happy to have someone who will listen to him talk about mushrooms and plants he finds in the mountains, even if they don’t understand half of what he says! X’D
Anyway, as you can imagine, taking care of a child who doesn’t know what’s good and safe for them is difficult. Especially since—as any parent would tell you—it’s when you look away for just one split second that things can happen to a kid. Hence, why for some of them (Jamil, Vil, Rook, Trey, Jack, Crewel, and Trein), they’re able to just calmly reach over and snatch the dangerous food or object and replace it with something safer.
Then there are those who might end up freaking out/panicking. Funny to reminisce over, but not so funny in the moment 😂
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland monster au#twst monster au#sebek zigvolt#ace trappola#jack howl#twisted wonderland mini!yuu#twst mini!yuu#twisted wonderland yuu#twst yuu
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Napkin
[Coffee AU] Scaramouche x gn!smoker!reader
cw: smoking, it's not a constant theme but mentioned at the start and end.
The first time Scaramouche saw you at the café, he barely bats an eye. You're just another customer, nothing new. The usual order isn't something out of the ordinary either, a simple drink from the menu and food with barely any additions.
Your usual seat is far from the counter he usually works at, preferring to sit at the outside area to smoke a few sticks of cigarettes before pouring your focus on typing away on your laptop.
The one time he really paid attention to your presence is when he realised you've been here for hours, typing away on your computer. Only sparing the second floor view a few times whilst puffing out the smoke of your dimly lit cigarette.
He only scoffs, wanting there to be no ashes on the table.
The second time he acknowledged you was when a customer yelled at him for getting his order wrong. Usually when this type of altercation happens, Nahida takes care of the situation as Scaramouche is still improving his temper.
Irritatingly, Nahida is out to buy ingredients, trusting Scaramouche enough to let him take over the establishment for the day.
Alas, the entire café's attention is solely on the yelling customer and the employee taking the hit trying his best to not smackdown him into the ground.
Scaramouche can barely say a single word before he continued shouting at him.
The customer's rant went into a halt when he felt someone tapping his shoulder. "Is your name... Azar?"
He scoffs much like a child would, acting all superior to everyone around him. "That would be me, yes."
You sighed, really not in the mood for an asshole to waste your time. “Then this must be yours,” you held the coffee cup, the name “Azar” clearly written on it with a black sharpie.
Azar, with a combination of anger and embarrassment clearly written on his face, took the cup from your hands. He can see the name Azar on it, whilst the cup that he’s holding before has (y/n) written on it.
The older man then pointed to Scaramouche, not willing to admit fault. “Your writing is horrible, what kind of employee are you?!”
Before Scaramouche could give a piece of his mind, you interrupted first, "maybe you should fix your eyesight." Azar turned his head towards you in disbelief.
"How dare you...--" it was then that Azar realized the commotion that had gathered around his outburst. A mother even closed her son's ear from his shouting. Clearly embarassed by the situation the old man grabbed his drink, almost spilling the coffee, and left with his face red with anger.
Scaramouche couldn't help but let out a sigh, the one time Nahida went out is right when a customer had an outburst. "You okay?" a voice called out, yours.
"The longer you work here, the more you'll get used to it," it was a lie. This is the first time someone had yelled at him for a mistake he didn't even made, usually Nahida would take care of any inconveniences.
You hummed, taking away the cup of coffee that 'Azar' had been saying was his. Scaramouche thought you were going to throw it out and ask for another drink; Azar's mouth had already touched that one after all.
But with the way you walked at opposite direction of the trash can made him think otherwise. Scaramouche raised his eyebrow, "surely, you're not going to drink that...?"
"Why not?" you shrugged, not seeing the big deal. Yes, a portion of it was drunk by the yelling customer, but it's still drinkable with the lid off.
Scaramouche scoffed, "place that in the counter, I'll make you another one. Free of charge."
You didn't move for a moment, slightly stunlocked. You've noticed the barista multiple times; he's quiet, does his job well, and any loud altercations would be dealt by a small child with green hair, as strange as that might be.
"What, cat got your tongue?"
Your train of thought came into a halt as he said that. Not wanting to share a cup with an old man anyway, you placed it on the counter. "Same order, please."
Scaramouche took the cup and chuckled; it sounded degrading, but certainly doesn't feel like it.
As Scaramouche began to re-do your order, he feels you staring directly at him. It's not the first time a customer stared at him while he's making their drink, and it most likely won't be the last.
It's you specifically that interests him. A regular that usually sits near the balcony to smoke and work on their laptop; kept to yourself and never brought anyone with you here. It was the first time that you were staring at him.
And it definitely won't be the only time.
What started as a customer helping out their favorite café's barista ended as a blooming friendship. The two of you grew close as conversations began when Scaramouche is preparing your drink. Some days it's a short exchange, some days it even continued until his next break.
What she finds most fascinating is his spike in interest for a regular. Nahida knows who you are, you've talked before when she asked about any critisism on beverages you ordered that day.
Nahida noticed a significant improvement in his... less than amazing social skills. Scaramouche still dislike talking to people, but when he does it lasts about 30% longer than before! He can hold a decent conversation well, what matters is how long it'll take before he throws an insult at them.
It was a gradual bond between you two. Both of your personalities matched, even if Scaramouche throws his own batch of less than endearing terms at you, he never really meant it; usually you would throw your own remarks at him back anyway.
There was a moment where her interest truly reached the peak, though.
Scaramouche wiped the counter in front of him clean. The usually white napkin had turned brown and dirty, though smelling deliciously.
A customer had spilled their coffee all over it, and since it's in the middle of the week; most of the college part-timers are in their classes, only coming to work for their afternoon shifts.
The bell at the door jingled as usual, ringing loud for the employees to greet the next customer. Scaramouche didn't went along with the habit that other employees have, he never did and therefore he didn't have to.
"The usual," a familiar voice said, not even bothering to look at the list of food and beverages available, already pushing the exact amount of cash on the table.
Scaramouche recognized the voice easily, placing the dirty napkin on the side and your money inside the cash register. "It's as if picking other things would kill you," he scoffed, but already started making your usual either way.
You leaned against the counter, playing along his usual words. "I'm not even sure you're used to making things new," Scaramouche scoffed at that.
"Oh, please lower your ego, since when am I a [y/n]-only barista," he laughs mockingly, pouring the ingredients needed for the order.
You're already used to him at this point, even finding it amusingat times. Playing along once more, you took the laminated menu from the counter, "then something new..."
"... is 'Scaramouche's heart' available?"
Scaramouche almost overspilled the carton as he heard that. You've insulted him back many times, but that? You've never done that.
It's a cheesy line, he already heard it from multiple people that he served. Scaramouche usually doesn't care, he shuts them down because he's not interested in them; wether or not they take it well is none of his concern. One thing is for certain, they usually leave him alone not long after.
To you though, he doesn't feel like he wants to reject your advances. It was a strange... feeling, to somehow become stunlocked when you're doing something you've been doing for a long time. His hand feels as warm as the liquid inside the cup, everytime his eyes closed to blink he feels them getting warmer.
Realizing quickly you were still watching and wiating for his response, he continued finishing your drink. "Use your eyes and read something from the menu for once," he scoffed.
You smiled along, unaware of his internal dilemma just few short seconds ago. Scaramouche quickly finishes your drink, muscle memory from all the times you came here coming in handy.
He grabbed the nearest napkin he saw and placed in on the counter in front of you, alongside the drink. His heat earlier had already dissipated, but his breathing feels heavier than usual.
"Here," he said, somehow sounding gentler than usual.
You laughed at the drop of bitterness that came last, but it's fine; you never mind bittersweet tastes after all. "Thanks, Scara," you smiled, walking away from the counter to your usual spot.
Not far from the counter, Nahida watches closely. Improvements have been incredibly significant, she observed, drinking the tea on her table. She smiled, happy that Scaramouche feels safe enough to let his guards down.
You placed your cup down on the table, though separating it from the napkin that Scaramouche gave you as well. A simple laugh couldn't help but escape.
It's a dirty napkin, coffee stains and the delicious smell on it.
'Must've been distracted,' you thought, not really minding the mistake. Maybe you'll finally gather the courage and ask him to hang out outside the café. Pulling out the match and cigarette pack from your pockets, you placed one of it in your mouth and lit it easily.
Looking back at the counter with a cigarette in mouth, you see a glimpse of his figure; making the drink of another customer.
Pulling out the stick to exhale the smoke and feel the numbing heat on your tongue, a thought that has been repeating in your head on multiple occasions appeared again.
'God, he is so cute.'
#Scaramouche#scaraboobs#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x male reader#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin#scara is short n cute lolol#Scaramouche x gn reader#genshin x male reader#self inserting that smoking bit 😛#☆works
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I have a new (I think) take on the coffee theory.
Now first off, I don't think the coffee theory is needed to make Aziraphale's actions make sense in terms of his motivation, his hopes for Heaven, or his desire to be with Crowley safely. I think the Aziraphale we know could absolutely get there on his own, for all the reasons that have already been examined very eloquently in other posts.
No, I think there's something to a coffee theory of some sort just because SUCH a big deal was made out of something that would otherwise be minor. They didn't have to show the Metatron getting it at all; we know there's a coffee shop right there across the street. The only reason I can think of that they needed to show it was to highlight the fact that what the Metatron ordered and what he told Aziraphale was in the drink were different: a dash of almond versus a jigger of it. That is a HUGE distinction. Adding a dash means you take your flavoring, your bitters, whatever liquid you're working with, and do a quick, tiny splash. A WHOLE JIGGER OF ALMOND IS SO MUCH ALMOND. That's anywhere from an ounce to 2 ounces of liquid depending on the jigger you're using. A drink containing a whole jigger of almond is going to taste STRONGLY of almond.
They drew our attention to that fact. Not only was it a point of discussion twice, there was a significant difference in the ingredients mentioned. If they just wanted to paint the Metatron as using all of Aziraphale's sweet spots to manipulate him, all they had to do was have him bringing coffee -- or whatever -- as that gesture.
I don't think for a second Metatron mind-wiped Aziraphale, but I absolutely think he put something in that coffee. The level of attention brought to it and the discrepancy don't make any sense if we're weren't supposed to notice it.
But to what end?
I1¹ understand the jump to cyanide -- strange almond taste you say? And we have a canon example of poison affecting celestial beings very differently than humans, what with Crowley shotgunning a whole bottle of laudanum and getting high as a kite.
But. There's also the "almonds for purity" symbolism. And that's the one I'm particularly interested in. Not for the possibility of Aziraphale's mind being made "pure" and supernaturally suggest able. But as some kind of deterrent against *impurity.* Against demons.
Against Crowley.
Because while I think Aziraphale is absolutely in a place where he would have been vulnerable to the idea of ruling Heaven with Crowley, the part of their scene together that does seem like it could have gone differently in Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss.
Watch that scene again and tell me it couldn't read as Aziraphale being in pain. Watch him touch his lips afterwards. Shock at the kiss? Sure. But doesn't it also kind of look like he's been hurt? Or burned?
This is Aziraphale getting kissed by Crowley. When they were just dancing hours before, and he was gushing about how much Crowley loves rescuing him. Fight or not, conflicting beliefs or not, I still feel like Aziraphale would react to being kissed by his Crowley with pure joy.
And the "I forgive you" then reads TOTALLY differently.
I think the Metatron poisoned Aziraphale against Crowley specifically.
#good omens#good omens spoilers#ineffable husbands#the coffee theory#good omens 2#metatron is a dick
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Okay, so I saw a post on Twitter a couple days ago by @leonisloresmith, where basically the idea is that the Ancients used to look different before they got their Soul Jams, and I liked the idea a lot. Cut to 24 hours later and it’s still on my mind, and so I’m like “screw it I’m stealing the idea” and so we got this
So yeah, pre-Soul Jam Ancients. I guess it’s sort of an AU, since as far as I can tell, in actual canon the Ancients have always looked the way they do
It’s only Hollyberry, Dark Cacao and Golden Cheese because they were the only ones I had thought about things for. I had drawn Pure Vanilla, but I realized that I wasn’t working with any real ideas, I was just drawing him for the sake of drawing them all, so I decided to just finish up these three for now and save Vanilla and Lily for another day
The original post didn’t specify changing the ingredients, but I wanted to because to be honest, there’s not a whole lot you can do to change their appearances while keeping their original names in my opinion. But I thought I should keep their core flavors similar, still being vanilla, berries, cacao/chocolate, cheese and flower (though I stuck with lilies to be consistent)
I have names for all of them, though tbh I’m still debating White Lily’s
Juniper Berry -> Hollyberry
Cacao Nib -> Dark Cacao
Cheese Dust -> Golden Cheese
Vanilla Bean -> Pure Vanilla
Wood Lily -> White Lily
It isn’t the names for the other two I’m particularly stuck on, rather it’s their backstories. Speaking of which, let’s get to what I have
So first, Juniper Berry. Juniper here I’m thinking came from a family that runs an inn or tavern, mostly just because of the whole berry juice thing. I imagine that despite the likely rowdy nature of her upbringing, it was a pretty good one. Truth be told that’s all I think I have to say on the matter, a lot less than I thought
I made her juniper berries because I wanted something in a different color, maybe something blue. And also because I randomly saw that juniper berries are apparently used in gin, and again, berry juice. I apologize to the Hollyberry fans, I really just focus on the berry juice aspect of her character when I know she has more going on. I was debating if I should make her skinnier, with the idea that she would have grown physically after getting her Soul Jam, but then I thought that’d be a really bad idea so I kept her as is. She can still be a strong girl and have Cacao be the one with the large physical change. Also I made her eyebrows round because that’s what Royal Berry has
Speaking of Cacao Nib, let’s get to him. So I imagine that Cacao grew up somewhere around the coast of the region and that generally, what family he had wasn’t very well off, and that he had to take on a lot of responsibility at a young age to help out. He’s also very small, even for his age. He also might be mute, or otherwise just very quiet
Okay this is one of my hyperfixation characters so I have more to say on him. I was struggling with his flavor since there’s not a lot you can do while keeping him cacao, but someone suggested to me cacao nibs and I went with that. As for his eyes, well they’re red because of Dark Choco. As for why the eye lines are dark, if you recall a previous post, I said I’m now headcanoning him as having some ancestry from the Licorice Tribe due to having sea salt in his dough (though not like his parents or anything, grandparents at least), and so I wanted to reference that here, as well as with his pin. It’s also why I’m putting him at the coast. Now granted, I recognize it makes more sense to make him related to the Coffee Tribe, with cacao having caffeine in it and his dilated pupil thing, but shush, let me do what I want. I wanted to make him the shortest so that basically, when he gets his Soul Jam, he magically shoots up to being the tallest, or maybe second tallest behind Hollyberry. Also him being short fits in with my headcanon that he’s the youngest Ancient
Next up and our final one for today, we have Cheese Dust. So Cheese was technically an orphan Cookie, but she was taken in and raised by a flock of Cheesebirds. She likes gold and shiny things, and also she does a lot of inventing, making small gadgets in her spare time, and trying to figure out if she can make functional wings for herself
I went with cheese dust for her because I think her original book description talked about cheese dust in it. And it sounds a little better than Cheese Powder to me. I know I made her eyes completely different than canon, but in part it was inspired by the other non-Golden Cheese Kingdom Cookies like Cheesecake and Roguefort, and also her eyes being triangle shaped in old concept art. And I just wanted to. The hair’s inspired by other pieces of concept art with her hair down, though I was struggling with what color to make it, eventually going with this. I wanted to make her the second shortest, being a bit taller than Cacao (though the difference is a lot smaller in the final picture), with the idea that while Cacao grows after getting her Soul Jam, she doesn’t, and so now she’s the shortest of the group
And I think that’s it for now, hopefully I’ll be able to get ideas for Vanilla and Lily done soon, I hope you find this enjoyable
#also disregard that I’ve used some of these names for previous fankids and OCs#I’m personally choosing to ignore that#cookie run#cookie run kingdom#cookie run au#pre soul jam ancients#hollyberry cookie#dark cacao cookie#golden cheese cookie#my art#what else do I tag this
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Banchetto: Primo Piatto
Papa Emeritus III x Reader NSFW/MDNI
AO3 | Antipasto
Planning, preparation and patience were the key ingredients for this dish. Mise un place the French called it and you weren’t sure if the Italians had a similar concept but if they did risotto was the dish that needed it most. You run through the ingredient list once more before you begin because once you start you must commit.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
As you set down your basket, creaking from the weight of its contents, you almost regret not taking Terzo’s help when he had offered it. He had been awake earlier than usual this morning, sat at the table steaming cup of coffee in front of him as you arrived to check what you would need for the day.
‘Buongiorno Sorella,’ he yawned at you, leaning back in his chair and into an exaggerated stretch.
‘Good Morning Papa,’ You tried not to look, you really did but ever since that evening you found your eyes drawn to him more and more often. His clothing looked soft and comfortable, his t-shirt clinging to his torso as he moved and stretched. A glimpse of skin was visible where he had leaned back from the table, his now soft stomach peppered with dark hair protruding from his waistband. Turning back to the cupboard you had already opened you squeeze your eyes closed in an attempt to suppress the urge to crawl under the table and press your face to him. He moans as his joints realign from the stretch and your grip on the handle tightens.
‘I am starved Sorella, what is for breakfast today?’ His question breaks you from your reverie and you shake yourself back to reality to address him properly. He is smiling at you almost knowingly, his hands clasped together and resting on his stomach. This has to stop. He is Papa and you are here to do a job. If you thought telling Primo and Secondo you weren’t a good enough cook to get him to eat would have been bad, telling them you had to stop because you watched him pleasure himself and couldn’t stop thinking about it would be infinitely worse.
‘Nothing very interesting today Papa I am afraid. The pantry is looking a bit bare so I will need to go down to the greenhouses. Otherwise dinner will be very boring this evening as well.’ You can do this, you have to. Forcing a light smile on your face you ramble about the food instead.
‘No Sorella with your skill, no meal will ever be boring.’ If only he knew how these compliments affected you. You needed to get away as soon as possible before your will power dissolved.
‘That is kind of you to say Papa but I don’t think even I would be able to do much with almost stale bread and condiments.’ You busy your hands putting something quick together for him so you can hasten your exit.
‘You are right that doesn’t sound appetising at all. If you are getting so much perhaps you need help with carrying?’ No no no no no no. You needed to be away from him not have him join you on a trip to the greenhouse. No you couldn’t.
‘No that’s ok Papa,’ you say probably too quickly if you were to judge by the disappointed look he tries to hide. ‘You enjoy your breakfast.’ Quickly placing a plate of fresh toast in front of him, the last of the aforementioned bread along with his preferred honey and sliced banana.
‘Grazie Sorella.’ You almost regret refusing him as he thanks you as always but you are already half out the door.
He must have heard you return because he pops his head into the kitchen, taking in the bags and baskets you had had to carry back and giving you an unimpressed look.
‘No help needed eh?’ He comes over, taking the last bag you were struggling with, and sets it on the table beginning to empty the contents. He inspects each item as he pulls it out clearly going through some internal monologue if his facial expression was anything to go by as he turned the item back and forth before setting it on the table and moving on to the next.
‘I couldn’t say no to Papa Primo, he just kept giving me more and more.’ You explained as the two of you survey the mass of fruit and vegetables along the surfaces.
‘Ah the old coote.’ You had heard him call his brothers names many times in the past but this was the first time you noticed the deep affection seeping into his voice. ‘This is his, what do they say? Love language? Vegetables be upon you.’ You hope he is closer to forgiving his brothers now it would be good for him to see them again. As the realisation hits you feel almost overwhelmed with guilt. You are an idiot. In all your thoughts of getting a break from him you hadn’t even thought that he might have wanted the excuse to get out and see someone other than you. You had done exactly what you wanted to avoid and allowed your attraction to negatively impact your role and it needed to stop.
‘There is one more thing I need for tonight if you still fancy a trip out?’ You ask after all the food is put away, your nerves almost getting the better of you.
‘Oh si I do fancy, Sorella, and where are we going?’ You pick up the now empty basket and rummage through the draw for a small sharp knife before beckoning him to follow you.
‘We need to go foraging.’
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
It all begins and ends with the stock. If your stock is bland and flavourless there is very little that can save the dish. You reheat it slowly until it simmers gently, the herby fragrance rising as it begins to steam. You had started this process the previous day when clearing through the leftovers. Primo was always generous with his gifts but now you were cooking for Terzo he never let you leave unladen with produce. It was a struggle not to waste any but you had been presented with the perfect recipe when you had next opened the book.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
The sunlight dappled along the well trodden path moving back and forth like a kaleidoscope as the canopy was shifted by the breeze. You loved coming here when you needed to recharge. It was always quiet, the sounds of the Abbey muted by the dense trees and the rich smell of rotting leaves and moss overpowering everything. As you glance at him as you amble along the winding path that leads to your intended destination you hope he will find the same joy in it as you do.
He had changed to accompany you on this little outing, light linen trousers and a perfectly coordinating shirt leaving it untucked and half unbuttoned the loose fit obscuring the shape of his torso to your relief. He hadn’t bothered to slick back his hair but the slight natural wave kept it from falling too far into his face but as it was tousled by the breeze you could see the shine of silver roots growing out. At the last minute he had grabbed a pair of comically large sunglasses and joked about needing a disguise to avoid his fans.
‘I see why you like it here so much Sorella. It is peaceful,’ he breaks your comfortable silence, knocking a stick off the path with his foot.
‘I think this is my favourite place in the whole Abbey.’ You do feel calmer here away from his quarters, your feelings are less oppressive. He is an attractive man who you are spending a significant amount of time with, it’s not unexpected that you might feel something. You just needed to remind yourself that you have a job to do and that he is a person and you should not treat him poorly just because you had some kind of crush on him.
‘You like your time to yourself si? You need the peace to let that mind of yours be quiet.’ It surprises you that he has observed you that closely but before you can dwell on it too much you spot some growth on a tree up ahead and rush forward to inspect it. This was exactly what you were looking for and exactly the distraction you needed. He catches up and you hand him the basket to hold, taking the knife and carefully cutting away at the trunk.
‘Mushrooms?’ he asks sceptically looking down at you crouched at the base of the tree.
‘Not just mushrooms, wild mushrooms.’ You have hit the jackpot here with two edible varieties in one spot and you can’t hide your excitement.
‘You are sure these are not the poisonous mushrooms, si? This is not the way I plan to be meeting our Dark Lord.’ You laugh as he moves to lean against the tree next to you and you give him a reassuring smile.
‘Don’t worry Papa, I know what I am doing.’ He looks over glasses at you eyebrows raised, bringing a laugh from you again. ‘I promise. My grandmother taught me how to tell the good ones from the bad.’ Having finished cutting away all that you need you stand quickly and try not to show how taken aback you are by how close you are standing now you are level. He leans even closer as you point out the characteristics that show these are safe to eat.
‘You see here this is how you know it is safe to eat,’ you explain as you point out the distinctive marks in the head of one mushroom and the coloured gills on the other.
‘I see I see. And what are you planning to make with these?’ He had pushed his glasses up into his hairline so he could see properly and as he turns to you to ask his question you almost get lost in the open look in his eyes, the green one more vibrant for once.
‘Risotto ai funghi Papa.’ He pulls a face as soon as you say it. ‘What? Don’t you like it?’
‘No I like it just fine but your accent, Sorella? We must work on that. Nonna would turn in her grave knowing someone could cook her food so well but butcher the name so.’ You are speechless for a second. The stern look on his face not helping you to judge if he was being serious. But then his facade breaks into a wide smile as he laughs at your reaction.
‘Your face! I joke I joke, well not about your cooking skills of course now come on we will need more mushrooms than this for a good risotto ai funghi.’ And off he marches still holding your basket looking this way and that to spot more clusters of mushrooms among the trees.
‘And Sorella?’ He calls back to you.
‘Yes Papa?’ You allow yourself a moment more of watching him dart among the trees.
‘Did your grandmother ever teach you how to find the magic mushrooms?’
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
Everything is diced, chopped, pressed, measured and you are ready to begin. Mushrooms first using melted butter as well as oil until the edges crisp and caramelise locking in their earthy flavour. You remove them but not the cooking juices now ready to be added back at a later stage. The now heated oil crackles and spits as you add the shallots and garlic to soften first, watching carefully but leaving it be until it begins to turn translucent and fragrant. Once ready the rice is stirred through making sure it is coated with the remaining oil before allowing it to toast for just a few minutes. An often forgotten step but so important to aid the liquid absorption.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
With his help you had made short work of your mushroom collecting so after dropping them back off at his kitchen he told you to take some time to yourself until dinner. It was early afternoon and as you meandered through the halls you wondered what you should do with your unexpected leisure time. Your feet seemed to decide for you as you found yourself outside the main kitchens and double checking the time you knew your friends would be inside, likely also taking a short break before starting preparation for the next meal. Your new role with Papa had kept you so busy you had barely seen them. Approaching the door you knock firmly before pushing it open and smiling at the sight. Your timing was perfect as you see them preparing their afternoon tea in the spotless kitchen.
‘Well look who it is!’ Mona spots you first rushing towards you and enveloping you in a tight hug. ‘What are you doing here? Not busy making Papa’s lunch today?’
‘I had some spare time this afternoon and I thought I might come and spend it with my favourite people.’ You squeezed her tight, she had been one of your first friends and probably the only one you could open up to about what had happened. But not today though.
‘We are still your favourite people?’ Rich teased patting your shoulder and steering you towards the tea tray. ‘Papa hasn’t taken that title? He can be very charming, I am told.’ You just roll your eyes in response having anticipated this. You had acknowledged in the past that you wouldn’t mind the undivided attention of the then reigning Papa but almost everyone at the Abbey would say the same.
‘Ignore him,’ Lily interjected. ‘But do tell us about Papa! What is he like?’ Lilly’s curiosity you could understand being the newest to the Abbey having arrived during the Ghost Projects last tour.
‘And did you really go for a walk in the woods with him this morning?’ Rich added. The questions were fired at you from all directions and you laughed knowing how they must have been dying to ask you for a while to be this over excited. You made a mental note to visit them more often.
‘Well someone pour me a cup of tea and I will tell all,’ you say with a grin. You certainly wouldn’t be telling all but they didn’t need to know that.
With a warm cup in hand and once you were all settled in the office come break room you started working your way through their questions. You were happy to give certain details of your time so far but as with his brothers you still felt mindful of keeping Terzo’s confidence. What had happened had sent the Abbey into a frenzy of gossip and whispers and him being seen out and about for the first time since was bound to rile everything up again. People were going to talk regardless of what you shared but you didn’t want them to be talking about anything only you would have the privilege to know. If he were to find out all of the easy camaraderie you had built would be gone in an instant.
So you were careful, wording things delicately and taking your time to emit any details you felt were too personal. Mona and Lily were happy with anything you shared but Rich seemed to pick up on your reticence and like a dog with a bone started pursuing any line of questioning he sensed you were holding back on.
‘So what is The Papa Emeritus III really like? We have all heard the rumours and you glossed over it quite well but you have been spending all day every day with him.’ Even though he is on to you you still take your time to answer knowing that if he pushed too far the others would surely back you up.
‘He is quiet, more reserved than you might think, but he is friendly and warm when he gets used to you. He is very inquisitive and knows absolutely nothing about cooking. Which is why they needed me of course,’ you laugh trying to fight off the blush you know is growing on your cheeks because of what you really want to say.
Because he is charming, disarmingly so, but not in the put on version he used in his stage performance. It was in the way he listened so intently when you answered his questions, in his playful teasing and in the earnest way he thanks you. But you don’t wish to tell them all of that and perhaps they might not want to hear it anyway. His reputation was that of a lothario and you were not naïve enough to think they wouldn’t ask if he had made a pass at you yet. They certainly didn’t need to know what you had seen and how it had made you feel.
‘And has he tried it on yet? The two of you looked very cosy this morning.’ You know he is only teasing but you can’t help your reaction. Perhaps if you weren’t already so attracted to him you would be able to laugh it off but you feel your defences rising before you can take hold of yourself.
‘Is that all you can think about after everything he has gone through? I don’t think that is at the top of his priorities right now.’ You don’t know if that's true but you think back to how he was those first few weeks and know that it definitely wasn’t then. Now you weren’t so sure but you slam the breaks on that train of thought before it builds momentum.
‘I’m sorry I was only joking.’ He looks sheepish but genuinely apologetic and the others are quiet looking between you.
‘No I’m sorry I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s just been quite stressful is all,’ you sigh. You shouldn’t take your frustration out on him. He wasn’t to know the confused mess you had become over him.
‘Did you hear about the Cardinals rats?’ Mona asks when the silence goes on a little too long and you shoot her a grateful smile. ‘Lily tell her what happened.’ As Lily excitedly tells you the story Mona shoots you a look of concern. You try to give her one back that communicates you will tell her later before losing yourself in the conversation as Lily and Rich fill you in on all the shenanigans you had missed. You half listened, smiling and laughing at their stories as you sipped your tea but you couldn’t help your mind drifting back to him. You were there to do a job and you couldn’t let anything else distract you, not gossip, not the mysteries of the notebook and certainly not your ever growing attraction to him. The work you were doing was good, he was looking healthier by the day and that is all you needed.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
There was an extensive selection of wine for you to choose from but you settle on an already opened sauvignon blanc to lend a dry crisp acidity to what could become an overly rich dish. A small glass is all that is needed and tempted as you are, you put the bottle back in the fridge for later. Stirring slowly as the alcohol cooks off you wait patiently for the wine to be absorbed before beginning to add the stock. It has been simmering away while you had prepared and started cooking and was now ready to be added, a ladle at a time in a process that you would not be able to stop once you began.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
You had mostly grown accustomed to it now, answering his questions as he observed you move through the process of cooking. It had become an evening tradition, one you greatly enjoyed.
‘So you cannot move from here Sorella without ruining my dinner?’ His good mood had continued since your trip to the woods that morning and was infectious, helping you to ignore the worries that had been plaguing you.
‘Nope. I am committed now,’ you smile at him, self indulgently allowing yourself a moment of just looking at him. He looked younger now, the weight he had gained smoothing out some of the deeper lines on his face, not that you didn’t like them. Especially the creases at the corner of his eyes when he smiled at you. You find yourself looking at them often when trying to avoid his hypnotising gaze. You would never be able to hide how you felt then. Hoping he hadn't noticed your lapse you turn your attention back to the food.
‘Good,’ he whispers almost to himself as he comes up behind you grasping your waist with both hands.
‘Papa what …’ You turn your head to look at him but he stops you. The easy atmosphere that had filled the room a moment ago disappears as he reaches up and turns your head back towards the stove top and comes to rest his chin on your shoulder.
‘Shh Sorella you must concentrate. I am so looking forward to this meal, you must not make a mistake.’ The quiet murmur of his voice sends chills down your spine as you feel it as much as hear it.
‘Ok Papa.’ your breathing is so shaky you can hardly speak. It takes all the willpower you have not to push back against the length of his body emitting heat so close behind you. All the resolve you had built earlier slipping at his proximity.
‘This seems like the perfect time to get a little payback.’ You can hear the smirk in his tone and you aren’t sure if you like what it means for you now. What did he need payback for? ‘Sorella I saw you,’ he sing songs directly into your ear. A rush of heat through you chases away the shivers, shame burning hot as much as lust at the memory of what you saw. Close as he is he notices your reaction and hushes you once more.
‘It is ok, perhaps if I did not want to be watched I should not have left the door open but your face, Sorella, it was worth it I think.’ On autopilot you add some more stock to the pot, your subconscious registering that that rice had almost run dry and even more scared of disappointing him now. ‘Did you enjoy watching me?’
‘I’m so sorry papa please forgive me I …’ Being forced to confront what you did your shame wins out, you feel awful, awful for looking, for fantasising, for thinking about joining him.
‘No no answer my question por favore.’ He squeezes your waist more firmly communicating his wish through his touch as well as his words, halting your spiralling thoughts.
‘I .. I did um enjoy it I suppose, butimainlyfeltguilty!’ You had to rush it out. The need for him to know, forcing the jumbled words out of you before he could say anything else.
‘Well perhaps your Papa can help ease your guilt, Sorella? Would you like that?’ His hand moves from your waist to your stomach just the barest graze of his fingers, even through your clothing, leaving trails of fire under your skin. You freeze, breath caught in your lungs when his hand comes to a stop just below your breast. ‘Keep stirring,’ he chides and you begin again, adding more stock and continuing the rhythmic movement winding your anticipation higher with every pass.
‘H- how would you do that?’ You felt torn. You had just wanted to do your job but here he was potentially offering you exactly what you had fantasised.
‘I think seeing you in the midst of your pleasure would make us even Sorella. But you are busy of course so I could do it for you si?’ He could do it for you. He wanted to do it for you. Your mind went blissfully blank for a moment as his meaning registered.
‘Papa?’ You needed him to spell it out for you. If you are going to go against your common sense you need to know.
‘May I touch you Sorella, pleasure you? Would you enjoy that also?’ Even though it is what you wanted and expected it is still hard for you to believe what you are hearing. He wants to touch you, while you cook, to make things fair. You stare down into the pan as you stir, around and around and around as you try to comprehend what is happening. You want his touch, you can’t deny that but should you let him? His fingers flex against you where they are resting and the heat of his body where he is pressed against you feels so good the reasons for should or shouldn’t leave as soon as they cross your mind.
‘Yes, you can touch me,’ you whisper hoping even as you agree that you won’t come to regret it.
He hums in your ear and presses impossibly closer once he has your permission. The hand on your stomach inches lower and lower until he is able to hook his fingers under your shirt and up until they brush your bra, tracing along the hem until he reaches and unhooks the clasp. He doesn’t move to remove it fully but uses the newly gained room to cup your breasts in his hands massaging slowly. He places a kiss low on your neck as he squeezes his fingers together and catches your nipples between them forcing a moan from you for the first time.
‘Si let me hear you.’ Your eyes flutter closed and you drop your chin to your chest already feeling overwhelmed by him but a more aggressive squeeze has you gasping.
‘The risotto Sorella!’ His voice is hard as he reminds you of what you should be doing. You open your eyes in panic and see that it is ready for more stock so you steel yourself and try to keep your attention on the task at hand not on the touches stealing all of your concentration. His grip on you loosens as he smooths his hands up and over, grazing your sensitive nipples with his palms with each pass. The teasing makes them harder and harder until he pinches them between his fingers. His every pull and twist adds to the slick building between your legs. Your head tips back onto his shoulder as you get lost in the feeling but he abruptly pulls away forcibly straightening your head back to the stove top.
‘I won’t tell you again. You are not to spoil the risotto.’ A whine spills out of your mouth at the loss of his hands and the tight grip he has on your chin. You try to nod your head in understanding but he won’t let you move and you have to swallow thickly before you can answer.
‘I’m sorry Papa,’ you choke out, your mouth dry and he lets you go. Taking a firm hold of your spoon you pick up where you left off with the cooking but he does not return his attention to your breasts but instead straight down to the fastening of your trousers. Before you even register they are undone and you feel his hand against you, cupping you through your underwear.
‘Papa’ you gasp the hand not stirring the risotto gripping onto the stove for dear life. He hasn’t even moved, even touched your bare skin and your legs are trembling.
‘So wet already Sorella,’ he groans into your neck, pressing his hips into you and you feel the effect you have had on him, his cock hard against your back. ‘You are soaked for your Papa,’ he says as he rubs your clit, the barrier of your underwear a blessing and a curse. A few more torturous touches he gets tired of something between you pulling away abruptly before returning, his nimble fingers sliding between your folds. His palm grinds against your clit as his finger tips tease at your entrance threatening to dip inside but stroking around and around instead.
In a moment of clarity you add the last of the stock to the risotto keeping your stirring slow and steady so you could enjoy his ministrations with as little distraction as possible. So slowly he pushes one finger inside you pressing forward until he finds the spot that makes you shudder and stroking it over and over again. You can’t contain your moans as he teases you closer and closer to your climax, a second finger sliding in next to the first making you clench down around the intrusion.
‘You feel so good around me, Sorella,’ he growls in your ear as he starts to press his erection against your ass in time with the thrust of his fingers and you wonder if he isn’t going to give in and just bend you over the stove. But no you are too close, his perfect rhythm and steady pressure all you need to tip you over the edge and you come grinding against his hand.
His arm clamps down across your waist as your orgasm washes over you and your legs finally give out. Peppering your neck with kisses as he eases you through it waiting for the final waves to subside before easing his fingers out of you and stroking over your clit as he pulls away. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he sucks his fingers wet with your slick into his mouth with the same enthusiasm he had licked the taralli crumbs all those weeks ago.
You have to look away so you drop your eyes to the simmering risotto, the mixing spoon somehow still in your hand. You stir it a few more times before turning off the heat. It was ready for the last few steps but you are not. He makes you jump when he touches you again but he just helps you right your clothes. He does up the button and fly on your trousers, reaches under your top to resettle and fasten your bra and then smooths your top down until it was sitting properly, only a few wrinkles to show anything had happened.
‘There, all presentable. Now I think I will go freshen up before I eat, if I have the time Sorella?’ It’s like you are back where you started fully dressed his hands on your waist and him whispering into your ear.
‘You have time Papa, about five minutes,’ your voice sounds monotone even to you but you feel almost separate from your body. He slowly removes his hands from your waist and you feel the loss of his body heat as you try to take stock of what you need to do to finish this damn risotto.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
Once the rice is al dente it is time for the finishing touches. First to attend to the sauce, a knob of butter and some grated parmesan give the creamy texture. The already cooked mushrooms come next added back with all their flavourful standing juices adding even more depth to the taste and texture. Then the final seasoning, freshly prepared ingredients to cut through the rich flavours already ensured. Ground salt and pepper, lemon juice and herbs, for this you had chosen parsley and tarragon making sure to mix and combine thoroughly until every mouthful contains the full harmony of flavours.
• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
The aftershocks of your orgasm are still running through you as you finish off the dish. How you managed to make it you aren’t even sure. The last few minutes a blur of his touch and his voice but somehow you are able to dish up a perfectly creamy risotto. You barely register him returning, still floating in your pleasured high as he watches you from his seat at the table. It is perfect. Adding the finishing touches you season it to his liking and sprinkle a last handful of herbs on top before trying to convince your legs to work well enough to walk the short distance to the table.
‘Grazie Sorella,’ he says as you place the heaped bowl in front of him. ‘This smells like it will taste almost as good as you,’ he teases winking at you and you feel the ghost of his hands as you watch him take his first bite. It’s a generous heaped forkful and he holds you in his gaze as he pulls the fork out of his mouth starting to chew slowly, making sure to taste all the combined flavours. He lets out an obscene groan when it finally registers before diving back in for more. You are rapt watching him enjoy your food so enthusiastically but your exhaustion starts to set in as the adrenaline of the evening starts to wear off.
‘May I go Papa?’ He pauses his eating, letting his eyes rake over you before nodding.
‘You may go, Sorella.’ His smile is filled with satisfaction. ‘You have been so so good for me this evening.’
If you hadn’t already been holding onto the table his praise might have sent you to your knees. The power he had over you with just a few well chosen words should be concerning but all you could think about was earning his praise again.
‘Thank you Papa,’ is all you can say as you take your leave, returning to your room in a daze. As you lay in bed that evening the whirlwind of a day spins through your mind and even in your exhaustion you don’t sleep peacefully, images of him filling your dreams as much as they do your waking thoughts.
Thank you @ghostchems for your input as always and to @running-ace21 for giving me the prompt that started this whole thing. If you would like to be added to the tag list for this fic just let me know :)
#the band ghost fic#the band ghost fanfiction#papa emeritus iii x reader#terzo x reader#Papa Emeritus iii#terzo#my writing#banchetto
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𝕒𝕔𝕥 𝕧. 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕦𝕒𝕝 𝕟𝕠𝕟-𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕥
》 series mlist
》 lee minho
》 mature/explicit sexual content
》 7.5k
》 kink is negotiated off-screen, blanket consent, penetrative sex, no barrier method+creampie, consensual non-consent, infidelity roleplay, drugging roleplay, dirty talk, themes of free-use, themes of dominant/submissive powerplay, humiliation, oral sex (m+f), light face fucking, cum play, cum eating, spitting, themes of salirophilia, rough sex, light choking, light hair pulling, possession play, pet names, themes of degradation, safe word usage.
Waking in the morning, the apartment you notice still faintly smells of the dinner made from the evening prior: sautéed onions and a perfectly cooked garlic veggie — typically not something pleasant to rise to, but now serving as something of a reminder of all of the ways in which last night was magical.
The morning sunlight gently peeks in through the slanting of the blinds, but the text message sent to your boss about your inability to come in today after all has long since been sent hours ago.
Beside you, Minho stirs to flip over and face you, though you can tell he's been somewhat awake for a while now on account of how late in the morning it is and an impressively capable internal clock that keeps him very much in tuned with his own employment schedule.
Smiling gently, barely cracked eyes fall upon your face and matched only by the feathering of the back of his knuckles over your cheek.
"So then—" he starts, smile transforming into something you're all too familiar with. Pleasant defeat paired with his happy acceptance of being wrong in his initial understanding of how the arrangement between the two of you might play out in the end.
"Tell me what you want to do."
Breakfast is light. Minho insists he wants to take you out to some fancy lunch spot just down the street that has only recently opened and looks to have a promising assortment of bagels, but the better part of you wants to just stay inside and bask in the enjoyment of each other. Thankfully, he relents easily — he always sort of has, and now with most of the pieces having fallen together in such a way, you're beginning to understand exactly why that is.
It's not necessarily that Minho has always been in love with you — at least, not in the typical sense that people might assume upon being met with the details of the circumstances shared between you. You understand it well because you realize that you also reside in much of the same boat of only recently coming to any sort of reasoning in regards to it.
The other ingredients have always been there, but without the secret spice, it's simply never melded together like this before now.
To say it isn't about the sex would be somewhat flippant in deconstruction. Obviously it is somewhat about the sex, and to imply otherwise would be grossly underestimating how much of that has played a part in where the two of you stand with each other now. Still, Minho was seeking sexual exploration that offered him a sort of intimacy, trust and love that couldn't otherwise be traversed without as much. You granted it to him willingly, happily — perhaps even a bit more enthusiastically than he had ever truly anticipated. Maybe it was always meant to be once the pieces were finally allowed to fall into their respective, kinky places.
"Fine, we can stay in, but I do want to go to that place soon." Minho says with a disappointed sigh. You might think him to be truly upset about your unwillingness to leave if not for the fact that the man barely dressed even now, and obviously in no rush to up and leave his apartment, either.
"Of course, darling. Anything for you."
Coffee finishes brewing, and Minho turns only enough to vaguely wave an empty mug at you in some sort of pointing gesture.
"You keep saying that, but who knows what other crazy shit I have waiting up my sleeve."
Sprawled out on the couch just across the way from the kitchen, you smile to yourself.
"Says the guy who was absolutely beside himself at the mere mention of doing something that wasn't perfectly by the book as he saw it."
He sighs loudly, as if this chink in his armor meant to remain forever as a mark against his kinky ledger.
"Is this about the cutting you thing!? Seriously? It was fine! I did it, didn't I? You can't hold that against me forever, I'm about to tie you to my bedpost and not let you out for a week if you keep taunting me about my mixed bag of depravity."
"Ooh," you sing-song in response, not at all worried about such a thing. "And then what?"
"You are so annoying."
"And you love me for it, apparently."
Minho crosses the living room area to meet you then; two mugs in hand and setting both down on the table just in front. You sit yourself up to allow him space beside you and are met just as quickly with the press of his lips to your temple. The offering of affection outside of the realm of anything sexual is new — sending your chest and stomach into a whirlwind of effervescence and giddy delight in a way that you're not quite sure has ever existed prior, or if it has only cropped up now, in recent times.
His hand finds yours, and slotting his fingers between your own, he presses his forehead against the side of your head like a cat nudging his owner for attention. You turn to meet him, and with eyes matched, Minho's lips curl into a grin.
"So, I guess you're stuck with me now, and a bit more than wild sex and late night burrito runs after work, huh?"
The implications have your stomach doing summersaults, but you want to try to play it cool. As if you haven't been thinking about this since the night he had you tied up and at his whims, anyway.
"I guess so," you answer. "I imagine the relationship model is going to have to be a whole separate conversation, though. You don't mind me having sex with other people it seems like, but I don't know how I feel about you continuing to date from this moment forward if we're going to…like…do this."
Minho pulls back suddenly, evident confusion turning his expression.
"I'm not going to keep dating other people," he says, remedying the concern. "What we do together, with other people — like what we did with Hyunjin, for example — is just that; something that we do together. If you don't want to do that again then we don't have to, for all intents and purposes, the itch has been scratched for me, but as fun as that was, it has no bearing on my desire to continue seeking out and dating other women."
It makes sense, you're unsure why you assumed as much, anyway.
However, you are curious.
"What if I did want to see Hyunjin again?"
Minho dives forward, kissing you in what is ultimately a short, simple showing of affection. A peck on the lips — but his smile afterwards says everything, anyway.
"Then we see Hyunjin again."
"Okay," you nod. Minho's tall, handsome friend being far from what is intended to be on the agenda today, however. Holding his hand tightly and offering a gentle squeeze, the two of your gazes meet together once more, but this time, the look of mischief takes your features rather than his own.
"That's not what I wanna talk about, though."
Sighing dramatically, Minho falls backwards against the length of the couch, kicking his legs up and over your lap with his arm swinging over to cover his face.
"I know, tell me all of the ways in which you wish to use me, Your Highness. I live to serve you."
"I'm a little reluctant to believe that you can even handle it, especially after last night’s display."
You're being purposefully competitive with him, an attempt to playfully rile him up. It appears to be working with how his arm shifts upwards to allow him the ability to glance down and towards you after the trying words escape your lips.
"Oh, really?" he questions suspiciously. "I am humored by the fact that you think it'll be hard to get me to want to ravage you. Like I haven't been hopelessly addicted to your pussy for weeks now."
Cocking your head to the side, one eyebrow pops upwards similarly.
"But I've never told you 'no.'"
"Well then," he sighs, and you can't help but catch the light hint of reluctance in the sound.
"What do you have in mind?"
Minho's calling out of work doesn't go as easily as yours does, and as a result, you find yourself left to your devices in the welcoming comfort of the man's lavish apartment. Really, there's everything you could ever need here already: a full fridge, plenty to drink of the alcoholic as well as non-alcoholic assortment, as well as bookshelves and technology rife with entertainment for as long as you could possibly imagine.
Truth is, however, that you're bored, and it's only once you hear the telling click of the door being unlocked that that boredom falls to the wayside once more.
Thankfully, Minho was only requested to the office for a few hours to finish up some project tasks sitting heavily on a quickly upcoming deadline, so once he returns at just a bit after five in the afternoon, even his attire is telling of such: a button down shirt not entirely done up, no tie, and a pair of slacks that he didn't even bother grabbing a belt to accommodate before heading out.
"Miss me?" he says, shutting the door behind him. "Surely you were wasting away without my delightful presence."
You roll your eyes, still laid out across the couch and with television lowly playing in the background. "Truth be told, I forgot you were even gone."
"Don't be like that," he says with a frown, kicking his shoes off before making his way towards the kitchen. "Let me make it up to you. Drink?"
An exaggerated sigh escapes from between your lips, but of course, you relent. "Fine."
As Minho makes his way back over to you, you sit up in place and scoot just slightly to make space for him. He plops himself down, though cognizant of the glasses of liquid in hand as he does so, and gesturing one towards you, he sips carefully from his own with eyes glued to the rim of your own glass as you do the same.
"Just so you know, I might have to go back out tonight. There's a work thing downtown that, while not required of me, it looks good if I attend."
Your attention perks up, it's your first time hearing about this, and especially now on a night that was meant to be between the two of you and very much enjoying the rush of new relationship energy, you can't help but think it feels something…bizarre.
And intuition sure has its way about it.
"Sort of last minute," you dryly reply, not wanting to be too adamant yet but your unwillingness for him to go. "Can I come at least?"
Minho shifts somewhat awkwardly where he sits, you can tell he's trying not to let it show, but you know him too well to not catch onto it. He takes another sip from his glass before speaking.
"I don't think so, it's really just a thing between colleagues."
Eyes washing over him, taking in every hint of whatever it is that he is giving off in the moment, your aforementioned intuition eventually does land on something, though you're none too thrilled about what that thing is.
He's suspicious, and more than that, actively keeping something from you.
You take another sip, though you're not particularly in the mood for drinking right now and set the glass onto the table with finality before speaking once again.
"Why are you being so weird about this?" you ask. It's a question that under normal circumstances would have Minho playfully flying off the handle about how is it that he's acting any kind of way, but rather than that, he remains near idly in place — staring ahead as if never having heard the words from you at all.
A dead giveaway, whether he knows it or not.
"I'm not being weird about anything," he finally answers after many moments passing. Minho sets his glass on the table as well, then makes an effort to push closer towards you with one arm wrapping tightly around your waist as if intended to be a diversion tactic. "Come on, don't make tonight more difficult than it already has to be! I don't want to go either."
Nuzzling into your neck with his face, it's only then that you catch a hint of fragrance that you've never smelled before. Not belonging to him, and most certainly not belonging to you. Your heart sinks, and while your visceral, physical reaction is to recoil, you remain within his grasp all while considering what it is that you really wish to do now.
But you have to say something, and say something you shall.
"You smell like another woman," you say, words plain and lacking any emotional tell. It's not questioning or even accusatory but rather an insistence of a fact. "Is that where you've been? Where you're going?"
Pulling away from him only enough to get a visual on his reaction, he barely does at all, but the light and ever so slight annoyed fluttering of his eyelashes tells you everything it is that you need to know, regardless of what it is that falls from his deceitful lips.
"Do you really want to ruin this evening?" he asks first, holding onto you tightly still and closing the distance between your faces again to press a light kiss to your lips. "Ruin what we have going for us when it's so, so good?"
You hate how easy it is to fall into the routine with him, though you've never actually hated it until right now.
Nipping lightly at your bottom lip, Minho's mouth slots over your own and kisses you like you're the only other person in the entire world. Melting into him is simple, and it feels so right even with the newfound information of everything being entirely the opposite of the way that you're feeling with him right now. There's a shooting, stinging pain in your chest that serves as a reminder that everything leading up to these moments now has been, in some way, a lie — that this isn't real, and that none of the words shared between the two of you have been, either. Still, the desire to have and be had by him holds so strongly onto your being that as Minho motions for you to fall backwards against the cushioning of his sofa, you can't find it in yourself to deny him as much.
He tastes like the liquor shared between the both of you, but somewhere in there you try to locate the taste of whoever she is, as well.
A lazy t-shirt of his that you've been lounging in pulled up and over your head, discarded on the floor nearby with sweatpants pulled from your limbs to follow, Minho's movements are rushed and needy in a way that you're not quite used to. In ways, he feels something of a stranger, and you can't help but wonder if this is what she likes, and he just hasn't had the time to make the switch back to cater to you yet. The more you think about it, the more it makes your stomach turn; you love him — desperately and deeply — the thought of going on without him in your life and towards the life together that prior to now you had thought was agreed upon feeling like hands tightly wound along your throat.
He knew you weren't willing to share him with others, and he agreed as much. He couldn't even wait a day.
Quick to unbutton his pants as he sits knelt between your legs, lips that travel down your neck and settle harshly against your skin — you come to the sudden conclusion that as much as you want to have him, you can't. Not like this. Pressing palms up and against his shoulders, you gently push him up and off of you with a slight shake of your head.
"Don't, I can't."
The resistance seems to come as something of a shock, and he stops all movement entirely.
"What? Why?"
You can't help but scoff at the absurdity of the question, as if it isn't obvious. "You think I want to have sex with you knowing you've been with someone else today? You think I can't tell? It's written all over your face, your body language. You smell of her. I told you what I wanted out of a relationship with you and the second that you're out of my sight you go and do exactly that."
Minho's eyebrows knit together, though you can't quite parse whether it's confusion or anger. Maybe something in between, because he goes right back to his positioning atop you as before and carries on kissing, biting and sucking marks into the delicate flesh of your neck.
"She doesn't mean anything, it was a last time thing," he whispers against you in between nips of skin. "Now why don't you be good for me, like you always have been—"
His tone drops then, something far more dark and menacing laced into the words, but before you have much of a chance to think anything of it, his hand comes up to your mouth and forces two fingers between your lips. Nothing out of the ordinary as far as sexual play goes between you — but it's only when you catch the presence of a tiny capsule that your blood immediately begins to run cold beneath your skin.
You have no choice but to swallow it around the intrusion in your mouth, and Minho pulls away just as quickly to pull you upright by an arm and quickly usher you back into the bedroom.
"What the fuck was that!?" you spit, but you're met with little more than a harsh push from the man that has you stumbling further towards the destination.
"Don't worry about it," he says with little care as the both of you enter the doorway. Bringing a hand up and to the back of your neck, Minho brings you even further across the way and towards the bed, finalizing the effort with another swift push of your body towards the mattress below. Then, his fingers slowly work at the buttons of his work shirt as his eyes cast down towards your form. "You'll find out soon enough. See, if you could just cooperate then I wouldn't have to resort to such extreme measures."
"You drugged me?"
Minho shrugs. "It's really a last ditch effort. I like it a lot more when you're pliable, docile — my little toy for me to do with what I wish and when I wish to but I think I've given you a little bit too much room to be flexible, and I think as a result of that, you've forgotten who this little arrangement is really meant to serve."
Lying on the bed and looking up at him, you think to yourself how up until now, his acting left a lot to be desired. Not great at selling the cheating story, and not particularly great at selling the whole pushing himself onto you thing back in the living room, either — granted, you know he's never quite done this sort of thing before — but at least now, in this moment, he feels just a bit more in his element. Perhaps he's finally getting the hang of this whole roleplaying thing. You're thankful, because it was getting difficult to ignore his lacking in as much before.
His lustful, sinister gaze certainly helps move things along, paired with the perfect (albeit, ironic) delivery of the monologue just now. Give him an Oscar, the two of you might just get through this scene, after all.
As the remainder of Minho's garments fall to the floor, the elbows propping you up to look at him give way beneath your weight. "My limbs feel so heavy and numb, I can barely feel them."
"Yeah, that's the point," he says with a tone just as even as before. "If you're going to be difficult, then you leave me with no other option than to force you to be more malleable—"
Pulling your legs to be spread apart, Minho positions himself between them with a single finger gently prodding at your already slickened folds. His eyes then roll up to meet your own again.
"Just like you were always meant to be."
Squirming slightly beneath his touch, you try to bite back the moan that threatens to bubble up from your throat as he pushes two fingers inside of you — carefully pumping and curling at just the right spot to have your back arching off the bed. Your want for him makes it too easy, makes the game hard to play like this because it's so obvious to the both of you that you crave him, and in ways, no amount of playing pretend is going to offset that fact.
How are you meant to say no even as a lie, when you very, very much mean yes?
Removing his hand, Minho inches forward and closes the distance between both sets of your hips — one hand slowly caressing the soft skin of your torso on it's way up to settle at your neck. He grips you firmly there as his other hand clasps at the base of his cock, and lining himself up to enter you, you clasp your eyes shut and find it within yourself to attempt to wriggle out of his grasp just that much more.
As the blunt, wet tip of him pushes in and pries you apart for him, you manage to do it. Manage to get the word out after all. In spite of everything.
"No, stop!" you whine. "Minho, don't!"
The hand around your neck quickly comes up to cover your mouth as he sinks into you just that much harder, that much quicker after your protest against it. Despite being fully sheathed, you feel him dig his hips into you hard, as if doing everything in his power to fill your body with as much of his cock as you can possibly take. Whimpering around the palm of his hand, you sound and feel pathetic, but even more than that; you feel impossibly full and even beyond that, a kind of aroused that you've never fathomed ever experiencing with a sexual partner.
Pulling back to just the tip and snapping his hips forward against you, you whine out from under him again. This level of submissiveness — the willingness to relent all power to him — and even beyond that, his carnal desire to take it from you, has you reeling from below him. With eyes tightly shut, you take in the feeling of being had in such a way, wanted so desperately that he has no other option but to do whatever it takes to acquire it. Minho's need for your body.
"There you go," he grits out through clenched teeth. Staring down at your face as you have no other option but to take his cock however it is that he wishes to give it to you. "See? You're taking it so well. Isn't it better when you just do what you're meant to do and give in?"
Three, four more hard drives into you and you begin to feel the familiar coiling of release in your gut. You're truly allowing yourself to enjoy the fantasy — the moment of make believe perfectly orchestrated between two lovers — that is, until…
"Octopus."
Minho stills, and his hand falls away from your mouth just as suddenly. Eyes flashing open, you make quick work of focusing in on his face; he doesn't appear to be particularly distressed, or displeased about the goings on.
Granted, you knew this would be hard for him to play out without a single hitch.
"What's wrong?" you ask, arms suddenly finding life in the aftermath of the scene and allowing your hands to trace up the length of his own biceps. "Too much?"
"Uh, checking in?" he says, though there's questioning to his tone as if not entirely sure, himself. "You know, hand over your mouth so, it's not like you could say the safe word if you wanted."
Part of you wants to chuckle, because there's a particular charm to the whole thing. You fight it back in favor of approaching it productively, however. "I know babe, but we have the three taps for that, remember? Three taps on the bed or on you to let you know to stop when I can't talk?"
"Yeah, yeah you're right. I know. I just wanted to like—" Minho pauses, squinting as if cycling through his own thoughts in real time to try to figure out how it is that the both of you arrived at this particular set of circumstances. "Make sure."
He doesn't say it, not explicitly, but you suppose that being such close friends up until now has given you very particular insight into the man's brain. Minho begins to settle back into position to carry on with the scene, but before he does, you extend a hand out to cup his face. The gentle affection has his attention turning back towards you, and when your eyes meet once more, it's really that moment that you're able to see the true reluctance that rests so heavily on his mind through every second and every motion of this particular fictional instance.
You smile with the slightest of curls to the corners of your lips, and bringing that same hand up to card through wavy black hair, you sigh with acceptance.
"You don't like it, do you?" you ask simply. "Hearing the 'no.' You can't get past it, can you?"
Minho's head falls weightlessly in defeat, and a breathy chuckle falls from his lips.
"It's honestly a miracle that I'm even still hard right now. The willpower it has taken to manifest this erection…you may never really know."
"We don't have to, don't force it just for me."
He sighs heavily again.
"I want to, like I want to be able to get there someday, but yeah, it's a lot. A lot right off the bat, at least."
Hand slipping to the back of his head, you pull his face down and towards your own for a kiss that is all things in one; passionate, compassionate, loving, thankful, and everything else in between. You know that deep down, Minho wants nothing more than to grant you the same gift that you've granted him through all of these other instances. He wants to be able to perform, to be with you and take you on a journey much the same as how he has been able to through you.
But sexuality and kink isn't transactional, and can't be treated as such, either. Minho's desire to be everything for you just as you have for him can never be at the expense of himself, or his own comforts. You know this, and deep down, you know that he does, also. Perhaps it's something that the two of you can work towards in the future — through more communication and probably some baby steps towards it. The mental block towards hearing someone’s reluctance to engage in sex with you far from a shocking turn-off for many people.
Some things simply make it feel far too real for people. Your mileage may vary.
Once satisfied with the taste of him, your fingers curl into the soft, black tresses and pull him back away from your face once more. Minho winces into the touch, though the spirit of his arousal seems to be ever so slightly reignited as a result of it, as well, and through narrow, devilish eyes he glares down at you as if awaiting your further command.
"Then why don't we just have things your way?"
The wanting throb of his cock can be felt at that, still pressed snug between your walls before pulling back and sending another hard drive of himself into your tight, wet heat. Sitting up proper between your legs and with knees firmly planted into the mattress below, Minho positions each of your legs on either side of him before slipping hands down to settle at the dips of your waist and fastening firm purchase there for pulling you down hard along his length with every forward press of his hips in time.
Groaning at the feeling of having you like this, it feels reminiscent in all of the right ways: still feeling something powerless in the grasp of him as he pulls you down to be pried apart on his cock, the drag of him so thick and firm feels like it's scratching an itch that you've never quite encountered before, and with the budding resurrection of your orgasm on the horizon, you whimper out for him to fuck you harder, faster — with more of himself and as much as he can possibly give you — and he is all too happy to oblige.
"Look how well you take my dick," he says, and this time with much more conviction than the time prior. "You're so fucking wet, bet if I wanted to fuck you in the ass I'd slip right in, huh?"
Gripping into the sheets below, you think back to being fucked full of both Minho and Hyunjin at the same time — a memory that you've kept with you late into the hours of private nights alone and will most certainly continue to recall — you whimper out at the thought of it only for your mouth to be stuffed full of Minho's fingers once more. Gently fucking them into your mouth, you close your lips around him whilst offering the intended glide and swirl of your tongue against the tips of his fingers.
"That's right baby, pretend it's my cock," Minho whispers, eyes glued to the way your lips wrap around him as he slowly fucks your mouth with his hand. "Gonna fill up this pretty little pussy with my cum, and then when I'm finished you're going to be real good for me and clean it up, aren't you?"
You nod as best you can, an affirmative moan slipping out from around the intrusion before Minho leans forward as much as he can given the positioning, offering one, simple demand from you.
"Open your mouth."
Finger hooking into your bottom row of teeth to pry your jaw apart, Minho slowly allows for a small collection of saliva pooled in his mouth to fall the short distance into your own, and instead of demanding of you to close just after, his fingers go back to work in fucking themselves between your lips that have already lazily tightened back around them for the lewd, pseudo-blowjob as previously partaken in.
Mildly distracted before, Minho focuses once again at the matter at hand and delivers hard, quick snaps of his hips onto you — every drive of his cock along your walls bringing you closer and closer to the edge of coming around him. He must feel it too, every drag of himself inside of you feeling ever so slightly faltered compared to the last, with hands far too busy impaling you onto himself, Minho tucks his lip up tightly between his lips before making his next demand of you.
"Wanna watch you touch yourself," he says, breathy and nearly wholly fucked out himself. "Make yourself come on my cock, lemmie see how bad you want it."
Well, don't have to ask you twice.
Quick to bring a hand between your legs and barely after he even finishes the sentence, you quickly rub against yourself and just above where he buries himself inside of your body. He feels impossibly thick like this, just as you do full of him, and you barely have to put any extra work into the motion at all before Minho is chuckling at how pathetically desperate you are to bring yourself over the edge despite teetering so closely along it.
But when you finally manage to do so, it feels as though every muscle in your body clamps down in preparation for the full-body, shaking orgasm to rushes through every nerve ending beneath your skin. Minho diligently fucks you through it to the best of his ability, though unable to stave off his own release for much longer in the aftermath of your own as he groans loudly and hardly bitten back at all through the initial wave of his finishing — riding out the feeling of your cunt milking him as you come clamped down around him and unloading deeply inside of you with every last drop.
Much to your surprise, Minho very much intends on following through with his version of the events as they should play out. He only allows himself to bask in the moment for a short while before carefully pulling himself from your soiled folds and slipping himself down to a knelt position onto the floor at the edge of the bed. Strong hand fastening at the backs of your knees and pulling you towards his face, he's quick to press the flat of his tongue right where his cock just had been, lapping and sucking at the mixture of fluids shared and mingling between the two of you as you whine at the overstimulation of him doing so.
"You taste perfect like this," he utters in between, right back at work for what feels like an eternity before finally pulling away with finality. He looks over your wet, cum soaked pussy — the flat of his fingers gliding over the milky clear drip of your vulva with ease. "This is how you should always look, fucked full of my cum, drenched in me."
Reeling at the thought, the words — much in typical Lee Minho fashion when he's in his sexual element like this, you aren't given much time to think over a reasonable response before the man is on the move towards his next endeavor, and standing himself to his feet, he reaches down to pull you up into a seated position with semi-erect cock in hand as he languidly strokes over himself just in front of your face with the remaining essence of the debauchery taken part in just before.
Looking up at him, he looks far from sated with dark, narrow eyes that tell a story of a man who is far from finished with you — you couldn't be happier with the fact, either.
"Now do your job," he says sternly, thumb and middle finger holding the base of his length in position for your lips to part to take the tip of him. "How about you show me how thankful you are for how much of a good job I've done at making a mess of you?"
Lips parting, you happily take him into your mouth before he even has the chance to find purchase in the hair atop your head. His fingers grip tightly, smoothly but purposefully dragging your lips along the length of him, and moaning around the heavy girth that weighs along your tongue, you can feel his cock once more come to full hardness as a result of the diligent, warm offering of your mouth around him.
Hands coming up along the smooth of his muscular thighs, your palms settle flat against his hips as he gently begins to fuck into your mouth as if you're silently urging him to do so. You can't take it all, the both of you know this, but Minho makes no effort to attempt to force you to do so — no, the scene is already perfectly set as it is, and your ability, whatever that may be, always sitting perfectly plentiful and in line with any and everything he could ever possibly want from you.
To feel powerless while wholly being in power. Minho only ever really wants to play pretend, knowing full and well that the onus always and entirely lie with you.
One hand coming around to take his cock into your hand, the other continues its travels upwards to feel the subtle definition of his abdomen and the muscle that lie beneath, and pulling off of him by mouth, you instead replace the feeling with the tight and deliberate stroke of your fist along him — wet, head of his length placed just atop your extended tongue with mouth hanging open as if awaiting your next prize.
"God, fuck—" he whispers at the sight, and it feels something like a break in the tough, dominating façade. You've never quite broken him, though you've never exactly tried, either. The scene ends when it's over and then everything goes back to normal. Perhaps you've stumbled upon something previously unexplored.
You wonder how far you can take it, but the two of you have a long journey and much exploration together to look forward to. There's no rush to check all of the boxes now.
Minho's fingers tighten just that much more into your hair, and you feel the muscles under your touch tighten. You wonder if you can get him to come again with such quick succession. A large feat, but seemingly entirely in your grasp as of now.
Breaths getting more ragged and moans fighting to choke out from his throat, Minho's head falls backwards briefly before being forced back up to look down towards you. A mixture of amazement and disbelief in his expression as he sits on what you think to be the precipice of his second orgasm, Minho shifts his hips backwards suddenly but only so that he can bend down to kiss you deeply, hungrily. Thumb catching in your mouth again to spit into it once more — messier, far less controlled than the first time — and then quickly standing tall and pushing his cock back between your lips to fuck himself into the warmth offered there.
"Gonna make me come again," he nearly whimpers, and you've never seen him quite this lacking in restraint. "Fuck, yeah baby, don't stop—"
Hand stroking in time with the bobbing of your head along his cock, Minho drags his free hand down to cup at the underside of your jaw as if needing to hold your face still to adequate drive into.
"Can you take it? Can you take it for me?" he all but babbles helplessly as he desperately chases his second release, nearly begging for your ability to handle him in his uninhibited mission to achieve it. You hum around him in an attempt to signify your enthusiastic willingness, and you suppose that to be all of the help that he needs; a loud, strong, and nearly pained sounding groan ripping from some place deeply nestled in his chest just before, Minho delivers two, three more drives of his thick, heavy cock into your mouth before stilling just near the very back of your throat and holding your head tightly in place along him for him to empty himself into.
The load isn't particularly full on account of it being the second in such a short amount of time, but for that you are thankful on account of how far back he is in your mouth when he comes. He must know it too, perhaps getting a little carried away with himself and realizing immediately upon releasing, because he pulls from between your lips rather quickly instead of basking in the moment as he might typically in other such circumstances.
Looking up towards him from where you remain, his chest heaves in an effort to catch his breath, and carding a hand through sweaty, dampened hair, his eyes drop down towards you once again only to find your head craned back, and the whitish-transluscent remainder of his cum pooled on your tongue and lightly running down the sides of your mouth.
You think that if there were ever to be a moment where you could see something snap in his brain, this would be the one.
Falling to his knees like a man utterly destroyed by the sights before him, Minho cradles your face in both of his hands before pulling your filthy mouth in for an even messier, filthier kiss. A man desperate to taste every inch of your insides, kissing you like the last breath of oxygen reside in you and you alone, when he pulls back and your eyes meet once more — the erotic, lustful disposition has seemingly long since left him, and all that remains instead is the idyllic adoration of you.
"You're disgusting," he says first, though it causes the both of you to laugh before he continues on with the thought. "And amazing, and perfect, and I'll do anything it takes to give you every gift that you've given me, just please don't make me pretend to cheat on you, I hate that so much."
Unable to contain your laughter at his confession, you wrap your arms around his head and pull him tightly against you for a loving embrace.
"Okay, deal." you relent, melting into the feeling of his arms coming up and fastening snugly around your body in turn. "Where did you get that perfume, anyway? It was rancid."
"I just sprayed something from the little corner store along the way, I didn't exactly have a lot of time. Was I meant to stop into the department store and put on some Dior?"
You huff out another laugh, forgoing any verbal reply. Minho pulls back only enough to be able to glance up towards you once more.
"What an incredible waste of time it's been, hasn't it?" he says, and though vague, you understand precisely what it is that he's referring to.
Time spent, time lost. Time existing around each other yet wholly oblivious to the signs.
"We still managed to come around though, didn't we? If you'd asked me three months ago over a regular hook up if you could spit in my mouth I probably would have punched you."
"I never did ask."
Rolling your eyes and ignoring the obvious, you gently push him back to fall onto his behind, Minho lazily following through with it and allowing himself to be laid out entirely across his bedroom floor, still entirely spent in the aftermath of the sex had.
"Are you going to feed me or have I killed you and now must fend for myself?"
"Just don't eat the cats, they don't deserve that," he answer back, arm lazily slung up and over his face in his feigned-deceased display. "But I guess it's the least I can do for you sucking my soul out of my body through my dick."
You stand with intent to head towards the bathroom for a shower, but Minho reaches out to grasp at your ankle before you're able to escape.
"Hey."
You pause, looking down at the ridiculous display beside you.
"I meant what I said yesterday," he admits, a firmness to his voice not before present in the playfulness of the tone of conversation. Your heart beats a particular way at the words, but you try not to make it too obvious that you've been hopeful and waiting.
"We've wasted a lot of time being friends, I've got some serious making up to do—"
There's silence then, you wait for him to finish only for the man to dramatically roll his eyes and abruptly sit himself up once more.
"God, you're really gonna make me say it again? I'm in love with you! There! It's not a big deal."
"You're cute when you're not trying to act so tough, how you manage to play so domineering during sex, I'll never understand."
"Deep inner strength," he cheerfully says, standing once more and slinging an arm up around your shoulders to pull you close. "Now say you love me back or I won't tell you to suck my cock anymore, maybe I'll just start asking if everything I do is okay. 'Would it be alright if you gave me head—'"
"Dear God," you whine, already somewhat regretful of your life choices going forward. "You are so annoying."
"Say it!" he chimes back cutely.
And maybe if you weren't so sure of the fact, it would be easier to withhold from him, but unfortunately for you and very much fortunately for the man in question — there is at least one thing that you know without a shadow of a doubt.
Him.
"I love you, okay? Now can we please get cleaned up, I have cum and spit all over me."
"Just how I like you."
If the words weren't annoying enough, then him punctuating them with a playful slap to your bare ass certainly serves to be.
Little does he know, all of his habits serve as precisely the collection of reasoning for why you've fallen so irrevocably for him. Never a project, and not in need of fixing.
Lee Minho is perfect just as he is.
#lee know smut#lee minho smut#stray kids smut#skz smut#lee know x reader#lee know x you#lee know x y/n#lee minho x reader#lee minho x you#lee minho x y/n#stray kids x reader#stray kids x you#stray kids x y/n#skz x reader#skz x you#skz x y/n
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~Caramel Eyes, Mocha Paws~ Chapter 3
Summary: As you grow closer to your new werewolf friend, tranquility is disrupted in your small town as rumors of strange creatures begin sprouting.
wolf!yoongi x fem!reader
Word Count: 11,635
#1 | | #2 | | #3 | |
In the last couple of weeks or so, you’ve come to develop a routine. During your shifts, Yoongi usually stops by late in the afternoon for the same cup of coffee before finding a secluded table to sit and work on his music. He claims the calm atmosphere is one of the best places for finding concentration. Something about giving him inspiration when writing lyrics.
Today, he sits in the far corner near the windows as he types away on his laptop. You see the waning sun shine through the glass, casting his dark brown hair into a lighter hazelnut glow. Bringing the steaming mug to him, he glances up at your approach and tugs the ear buds from his ears.
“One hot pistachio latte,” you say, setting the cup down beside him.
His gaze shifts between you and the steaming coffee. “Are you sure you’re not just using me as a taste tester for your strange concoctions before testing it out on the general public?” He wonders as he tentatively picks it up.
You can’t stop the incredulous laugh at his speculation. “No, it’s an actual drink. And how many times have I said don’t knock it until you try it? Besides I even put slightly less pistachio syrup than recommended so it’s not as sweet.”
“With salted brown butter or something nutty related I presume,” he notes after taking a sniff. He carefully sips it, letting the flavor rest against his tongue.
His correct assumption catches you by surprise. It’s even hard for you to smell each individual ingredient despite making it yourself. “Yeah, salted brown butter. You could tell that easily?”
Swallowing, he nods and sets the mug down, steam curling up beside his laptop. “I cook on occasion so I’ve made it before,” he explains.
Nodding, you make note of that piece of information before looking at him expectantly to which he blinks in return up at you. “So what’d you think?”
He shrugs. “Not bad. I like it not as sweet.”
“That’s good. Is it enough to want to get it again perhaps?”
“Only if you’re the one making it, otherwise I’ll stick to my usual,” he answers, already expecting your question as you’ve asked it after every new drink you’ve given him.
It’s a similar response to all the other times, not minding each flavor with the only condition being you have to be the one to prepare it. “Nothing beats that plain coffee does it?”
He props his head in the palm of his hand, eyes watching you with a gleam of mirth in his irises. “Simple is nice. I don’t need all that fancy syrup and flavorings.”
Your face pinches at the thought of such strong coffee, tastebuds immediately reacting to the unappealing memory. “I have to have some flavor with mine or else it’s just too bitter for me.”
“Try adding a splash of milk with a little sugar, nothing else. That should be enough to give it some sweetness,” he recommends, thoughtfully nodding to himself. “Or just a pinch of salt will also do the trick too.”
“Salt?” You eye him dubiously before breaking out into a small grin. “Actually, that makes sense. My parents and I sometimes add salt to fruit so it makes it sweeter.”
“Exactly. It’s the same with coffee,” he says.
“Thanks, I’ll have to keep it in mind. Enjoy the rest of your coffee,” you tell him before heading back to the counter.
While you’re rearranging the desserts in the display case the door bangs open while the poor bell above clangs harshly as two women walk inside. Donning burgundy colored cardigans, their sunglasses cover their eyes while they briefly survey the place. With black hair tied tightly behind her, the first is followed by a shorter blonde who’s on the phone, seemingly arguing about some reservations while her friend in front goes straight to the counter.
You finish putting the treats away and ease your way up to the cash register. “Hi, can I help you?” You politely ask, ensuring your customer service voice is extra chipper.
She shoves her sunglasses above her forehead and gives you a once over before staring up at the chalkboard menu with disinterest. “Yeah, I want a venti hot mocha with two shots of espresso, one pump of vanilla syrup, only almond milk, and add chocolate drizzle and whipped cream.”
Well, it’s not the worst complicated order you’ve ever heard. Scribbling down her drink, you type it up in the system as you carefully read it back. “Anything else?”
She looks behind her. “Diane, what do you want?”
Her friend lowers her phone, keeping her palm over the screen. “I want my usual iced drink,” is all she says before going back to arguing with the unfortunate soul that’s on the other end.
The lady turns back to you. “We’ll do a venti iced vanilla macchiato with soy milk, an extra shot of espresso, six ice cubes,” she emphasizes, “no whipped cream.”
Again, you’re frantically writing it down and transferring it to the computer while repeating it back to her. “Would you like anything else?” Your question filling with dread at the possibility of another ridiculously specific order.
“Yeah, we’ll take two pumpkin scones,” she says though her upper lip curls in disdain as she observes the desserts.
“Actually, can I get the blueberry scone?” Her friend chimes in.
The lady rolls her eyes, not that she notices. “Fine, one pumpkin and one blueberry scone,” she amends.
You read back the orders and tell her the total as she gives you her credit card. Swiping the card, the machine spits out her receipt and you hand it to her to which she crumples it up before tossing it in the trash. “Here or to go?”
“To go, we’re in a bit of a hurry,” she snaps, painted ruby nails tapping against the marble countertop.
Glancing at Elanor who’s still working on the drinks from the previous large order, you figure you’ll just handle these complex ones on your own. Starting on the hot drink, you sift through the fridge only to find a near empty bottle of almond milk. Not enough for any drink let alone hers. Cringing at the upcoming confrontation, you walk to the counter where the women are still standing. “I’m sorry but we don’t have enough almond milk. Would soy or oat be okay?”
“Are you serious?” She scoffs, a hand going to her hip. “The flavor isn’t the same. What kind of coffee shop are you that you don’t have enough inventory?” The woman isn’t necessarily yelling but her voice is loud enough that most people seated nearby can easily hear her complaints as they continuously glance over at the pair. Even Yoongi’s silently observing from his spot in the back corner, eyebrow raised. The woman huffs. “Did you check the back?”
Rather than bothering to argue, you release a sigh yet your customer service smile still remains as you go to the back and open the fridge. Standing there for a moment, your eyes scan the various bottles of ingredients, obviously finding no almond milk before slamming the door shut. You return to the counter empty-handed and do your best sympathetic expression while you set your palms on the counter. “Sorry, ma’am, there’s none.”
“You don’t have another store nearby to borrow some from?” It’s not so much a question but more so an apparent suggestion, as if the tiny shop with homemade decorations and limited space somehow resembles a multi-chain business.
Beside you, Elanor is doing her best not to roughly shake the coffee as she mixes its contents before setting it in the drink carrier and calls out the order.
“No, we’re a local business not a chain,” you tell her.
Crossing her arms, she answers, “Fine, I’ll substitute it with soy milk. If you have enough that is.”
The people with the large order collect their drinks and wince uncomfortably as they head for the door. One drops a couple of extra coins in the tip jar before leaving. Ignoring her snarky response, you snatch a cup and get to work. “We’ll get that ready for you then.”
“Seriously, what is with her?” You hear her mutter not so quietly to her friend. “Could she be any less accommodating? They should be prepared for in-demand items, even if this is a small town.”
“Quit talking before someone kicks us out again and I die of thirst,” her friend complains, having finished her phone call. “You’ll get over it by tomorrow.”
Glancing over your shoulder, the two women are oblivious to the annoyed glares sent their way from the other patrons, most who also happen to be locals here. Even Yoongi watches from his seat, his leg casually propped on the chair in front of him, looking none too pleased at their comments though the only hint is the slight narrowing of his eyes.
You give a small grin when his attention shifts toward you and the corner of his lips quirk up with another slight cock of a brow. Shrugging to him, you’re distracted by the tap on your shoulder as Elanor stands beside you to begin making the iced coffee.
“I’ll beat them with the blender if you help with hiding the bodies,” she mumbles beneath her breath.
A chuckle sounds from you while continuing to prep the coffee. “I think I know a few places in the woods,” you tell her. “Though they’ll throw first punch if you don’t add those six ice cubes.”
She snorts lowly with a roll of her eyes. “We’d still have the upper hand what with all this equipment.”
“True.”
Once the coffees are made, you both set them on the counter to which the ladies take them and leave while complaining how this is nowhere near what the positive reviews people boasted about online. Well, one gripes while the blonde silently listens adjusting her brown-rimmed glasses while carrying the bag of snacks after having slipped a bill into the tip jar. Sharing a look with your coworker, you carry on as usual, thankful they at least left.
Towards the end of your shift, you’re busy sweeping the floors as you finish closing for the night. Elanor already left early as she needed to go to the grocery store before it closed as well. It’s just you with Yoongi as your quiet company who remains seated in his spot.
At least he was, until there’s the distinct clanging of coins hitting the glass tip jar. “Oh my gosh, you’ve got to stop paying for the extra drinks I keep giving you,” you reprimand, setting the broom aside to go fish out his change, earning you a light slap on the wrist.
Yoongi pries your hand away with ease and shoves the container aside before it’s blocked by his arm that he props against the counter. “Consider it a tip for the great service. And for dealing with those rude customers,” he adds with a shrug, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag.
Curling your upper lip at the reminder of those two, you opt to just leaving the jar alone. Both you and Elanor deserve a little something after that. “Yeah, Karens aren’t uncommon unfortunately, especially if they’re not locals. But thank you, that’s really kind of you to do. You heading out for the night?” You guess after glancing up at the clock.
He nods. “Yeah, I need to get going. Do you want help with anything?” He gestures to the chairs though his table already has the seats overturned on top.
You wave him off in reassurance. “No, but thanks. You didn’t have to set your table though again, that’s nice of you to do.”
He tsks at that. “Just being a decent patron. Have a good night,” he says, flicking his hoodie over his head while you wave and respond in return before he ducks outside.
As you finish locking up for the night, you glance around the quiet street, only seeing a few people milling about. Zipping up your jacket, you stuff your hands into the pockets while you head for the forest path to begin your trek home. You listen to the crunching leaves beneath your feet while keeping your attention on the tree line spread out around you. The crickets add to the quiet ambience with the occasional rustling from the wind until a snort sounds on your left. Staring into the darkness, you find familiar amber eyes peeking through the branches, observing you intently.
“Hi Wolfy,” you greet to the lupine who takes that as his queue to step out into the open path in all his seven foot glory. The slight vibrations of his footsteps briefly shake the ground beneath you as he approaches until he’s standing right in front. You raise your hand, palm forward while he bends low and presses his nose against the skin in your usual greeting. “How was your day?” You ask.
Wolfy barks softly, jerking his head in a nod while his tail wags slightly from behind.
“Seems like a pretty good day,” you guess with a smile.
He nods again before bumping his snout against the side of your head with a huff.
“My day was also pretty good. Wasn’t too busy with customers except for some annoying people, but it’s fine,” you laugh.
The wolf grumbles before staring at you expectantly.
“What? That’s really all that happened, just a normal day,” you say as you begin walking again.
He follows after you, staying beside you as the two of you continue towards your home before he leans over to snuff the side of your neck, still remaining focused on you.
Giggling, you rub at the spot to get rid of the tickling sensation. “How are my days so entertaining to you?” You wonder. “Surely you have more interesting adventures than me.”
His response is to silently shrug while he merely blinks.
You smile before proceeding to go into more detail about how you spent your day, even including some of the menial tasks you fulfill at the shop. The wolf listens intently to every word, interest keeping his entire focus remaining on you.
“So after Karen One and Two left, I got a nice tip from Yoongi who always insists on paying for the drinks I keep having him try even though I tell him it’s on the house. Now I’m thinking about how I’m going to use it. Maybe I’ll get a new sweater,” you note.
When you glance over at Wolfy he nods in understanding and barks with approval.
“You think that’s a good idea?” You ask, receiving the same response. “I’ll keep that in mind then.”
The walk home goes faster than you expect as you arrive at the edge of the trail. After you both do the same greeting, bumping snout to hand, you step through the grass all while the werewolf keeps watch from among the trees. Every time you turn around to look back once you reach the door, he’s not in direct line of sight but you still feel those golden eyes observing from afar.
~*~
The next morning you opt for thicker clothes as fall begins bringing in cooler days in preparation for winter. Despite washing your face and performing your usual morning routine, you can’t resist the constant urge to yawn as you rub tears from your eyes while your feet shuffle along the hardwood floor. Heading downstairs, the worn steps creak beneath you while family pictures from a range of outings greet you as you pass by.
In the kitchen, you find your dad sitting at the dinner table eating breakfast while reading the morning paper. “Someone’s up early,” he notes before taking a bite of his eggs. Hearing your approach, Biscuit abandons scarfing down his food as he trots over to you. He bumps into the back of your dad’s chair until eventually finding you, tongue lolling out from his mouth while his blue eyes stare up at you with one being slightly more cloudy than the other.
You hum in affirmation, petting your golden retriever on the head as he keeps knocking against your legs. “One of Juliette’s kids is sick so I offered to cover,” you explain as you go around the counter with the dog at your heels. “Mom already left for work,” you guess upon seeing no sign of her.
“Yep, they needed her again,” he answers without looking up.
Glancing at the clock on the microwave, you see it’s barely past five. “This early in the morning?” You question, fetching a glass from the cupboard and filling it with tap water before drinking.
“Apparently her team is still working on that conservation project. They’re pulling extra hours since the deadline’s coming up. And that’s why I stick with the night shift,” your dad responds, the crinkle of paper sounding as he turns the page.
“Because you can sneak away to the break room and get extra sleep without anyone noticing?”
He clears his throat, the chair creaking as he shifts his weight. “I can do whatever I want for that half hour and they won’t care. But the best part is there isn’t another soul in that part of the building. No interruptions, just a quiet space.”
“That does sound pretty nice,” you agree, taking another sip of your water. Even though he’s only worked at Keaton Enterprises, a technological security software company that’s recently expanded to this area, for less than a year it’s been a nice change for him despite the longer drive. While rifling through the pantry you can hear him muttering under his breath. “What are you mumbling about over there? Which sports team lost this time?” You ask, eventually plucking a granola bar out from the various snacks it’s hidden behind.
Your dad grumbles, taking a swig of his coffee before answering. “None of mine, thankfully. But GlamOrg is building another condo place, except this one will be near the town square. After just putting one near the lake last year,” he scowls.
His news causes your face to pinch, already preparing for the inevitable loud construction and overall nuisance to come. It also makes you wonder why they’re still building more properties in this area. Glamour Organization mostly gets its income from the various high-end boutiques and clothing shops from the major cities but has recently begun expanding into some of the more local towns to supposedly offer better opportunities for people. With the increase in the upscale stores, the surge of tourists who come for the “aesthetic wilderness and authentic small town vibes” that piques their interest, it’s helped the town’s businesses overall but the consensus isn’t exactly positive. The locals aren’t going to be as lenient if the expansion doesn’t actually slow down soon.
“Maybe it won’t be too bad,” you say, attempting to sound cheerful if not at least hopeful.
It’s met by him snorting sarcastically. “Hm, you and I both know it just means more traffic and higher taxes,” he gripes. “Next thing you know there’s a fancy, overpriced mall and then things will never be the same.”
You wince, remembering how mom’s hometown eventually went from vast fields to large concrete warehouses for the expanding plant facilities. At least shopping malls are more attractive than chemical plants, but still not quite sustainable either. Already you can hear your mother’s rants about it.
“Don’t jinx it,” you complain, petting Biscuit one more time before heading for the door with your breakfast.
“Tell that to them. Hey, be careful coming back tonight. They’re reporting a possibly dangerous creature in the area. I know you like taking the trails home so just keep an eye out,” your dad warns.
That catches your attention as you stare at him incredulously, fingers about to tear at the wrapper. “Dangerous creature?”
He nods. “Eh, some tourist got attacked by a wild animal, nothing too serious. You’re probably fine, but you can never be too careful. Just stay alert for anything suspicious.”
While you do tend to be vigilant, your new friend can probably take care of it no problem, not that your parents need to know. “Of course, dad, I always pay attention on my walks,” you reassure him as you open the snack and take a bite of the crunchy granola bar before heading outside.
~*~
At work, you’re making multiple hot chocolates and coffees as people seek shelter from the chilling air that seeps across the town. Despite it being a sunny afternoon it has barely thawed away the icy weather from this morning. Though the heater is working overtime, the warmth doesn’t last between the cold windows and entrance door opening every couple of minutes.
Even as you remain busy and constantly preparing drinks, you can’t avoid the recent news that’s spreading like wildfire. Nearly everyone is either reading from the free stack of newspapers or murmuring to each other about the attack. You catch a glimpse of the headline that reads ‘Wild Animal Attacks Hiking Tourist.’ Weird.
When there’s a break in the rush, you head to the back and find Elanor reorganizing and updating the inventory on the computer while you proceed with mopping the floor. “So what have you heard about this supposed animal attack?” You ask her.
Elanor groans with a roll of her eyes. “Ugh, enough to know that I’m tired of hearing about it,” she complains. “But as far as I know it’s just some lady insisting this town is haunted or cursed just because a random animal attacked her.”
“Was it maybe a coyote or bear? I don’t know how bad her injuries are.”
Her eyes remain focused on the iPad while she types in the count for each item, switching between that and the wooden shelves. “I don’t know. According to the paper, it said she wasn’t seriously hurt besides heavy bruising and some lacerations but she’s hellbent on suing the city for not having proper signs that this area has dangerous animals.” She shakes her head. “I think she’s making it worse than it actually is.”
Was all that from the animal or did she fall? Unless she got lucky and somehow didn’t need stitches. As you continue moving the mop across the floor, you consider these possibilities while trying to piece all the information together. “That’s weird though because we don’t really have animal attacks. Not that I can remember.”
“Yeah, I know which makes her whole story suspicious,” she notes, raising her head to face you while her eyebrows quirk up knowingly. “She probably just fell and injured herself that way.”
Before you can come up with a retort to her pointed remark about your own injury, the entrance bell chimes open, signaling the arrival of more customers and Elanor jerks her head in its direction. “You mind taking care of that? I still have to go through all the beans and syrup still.”
“Of course,” you tell her, rounding the corner to find a group of college students coming inside. They give you a long list of to-go orders but at least it mostly consists of caramel macchiatos and hot chocolates along with a few others. As you begin prepping all the drinks, you can’t help but listen in on their conversations as they’re not exactly quiet.
“I’m serious!” One of the guys claims as he shows another girl his phone. “This lady says she was attacked by some monster last night.”
Her face pinches in mild disgust at whatever she sees on the screen before directing her gaze towards him. “You think it was just a predator with rabies?” She asks.
“Maybe,” he agrees, “it seems serious enough that the police are investigating the trail where she was attacked.”
“They’re probably just making sure it’s not a threat to the public instead of some random encounter,” another of the girls chimes in.
The guy standing beside her decides to also provide his own thoughts on the matter. “She could be telling the truth though. Maybe this thing wasn’t normal.” His admittance is only countered with eye rolling and looks of disbelief.
“Oh be serious,” the girl scoffs. “It’s not like she ran into big foot or something.”
“You never know. No one’s been able to find definitive proof yet,” he insists.
While you’re blending, the noise drowns out their conversation yet you don’t miss the distinct chiming of the bell above the door. Turning your head slightly, you see a familiar dark hoodie approaching the counter.
You wave as you head to the cash register. “Hey Yoongi,” you yell above the noise, your greeting drawing his attention away from his phone as he glances up.
He stuffs the device in his pocket while nodding his head at you in return. “Y/N. Long time no see,” he says.
“I know, I can’t believe it,” you laugh. “Just your usual for here?” You’re already ringing it up as he nods and pays. “Okay, it’ll be just a minute.”
Returning to the blender, you shut it off and begin pouring the coffees into cups. Setting all the drinks in two separate cardboard carriers, you hand them to the group of college students which the girl in front takes with a quick thanks. The others each grab their own, leaving a couple in place while they begin drinking. As they head towards the door, you begin pouring the still steaming plain coffee into the mug for Yoongi.
“You and your conspiracy theories, Thomas,” one of the guys jokes with the guy beside him by slapping him on the back. “If only you put this much research into your essays.” The others laugh at his response while Thomas shakes his head.
“She literally told them that if she didn’t know better that it was a werewolf of some kind. That’s probably why they’ll just write it off as a coyote or wild dog,” he interjects.
That causes your head to shoot up in their retreating direction as you’re passing the cup to Yoongi who you barely register stiffening in response. Werewolf? But Wolfy indicated he was a protector of sorts. He wouldn’t harm a human, right? Could it be a rogue werewolf then?
You don’t hear the rest of what they say as the door clangs shut behind them. Frowning to yourself while you’re lost in thought, you jump slightly when the warm touch of fingers meet your own as Yoongi takes the mug.
“Still thinking about that supernatural research of yours?” He muses with a faint quirk of his lips and tilt of his head, brown hair shifting across his forehead.
“What?” The question sounds more concerned than you mean for it to be as you reflexively panic upon hearing the word supernatural.
He lifts his chin toward you. “You were pretty lost in thought for a minute.”
Going around to the counter with all the straws and other coffee fixings the customers use for their drinks, you busy yourself by wiping it down with a rag. “Just surprised by the news I guess. This is usually a pretty quiet place,” you note, roughly wiping away the few granules of sugar and minute drops of syrup. Out of all the days for it to be relatively clean.
“Yeah, weird,” he eventually agrees, leaning his shoulder against the wall beside you much to your surprise. With his other hand, he takes a sip of coffee while casually watching you begin reorganizing the variety of multicolored sugar packets.
Putting the packets into the proper containers, you keep focused while he continues drinking beside you. “New hangout spot?” You inquire, righting the coffee stoppers that haphazardly stick out like a chaotic bouquet of sticks.
His response is to shrug, switching the mug to his other hand near the wall while shoving the now vacant one into his pocket. “Not exactly. More so just wondering why you seem on edge.”
“I’m not on edge,” is your automatic response while you lightly scoff at the idea. The expectant stare you receive has you amending your statement to, “At least not as much as everyone else around here is.”
“The dramatic headlines and hushed rumors aren’t shocking enough for you. But you’re worried about something,” he discerns, taking another swig while keeping his gaze fixated on you.
Crouching down, you open the bottom cabinets to restock the napkin dispensers and buy yourself some time while you think of a response that veers far away from a certain wolf of yours. “Mostly that this town is about to be the next haunted tourist attraction overrun with ghost hunters and people looking for trouble that’s not actually here.” Not exactly pressing matters to you at the moment but it’s also not a lie either. As if GlamOrg or any other corporations need another reason to build more crap here.
“Interesting,” Yoongi hums, a gleam flickering in his brown eyes as he continues sipping his coffee. “Fair point, though why the hostility to ghost hunters of all things?”
“They’re annoying,” you randomly assert. Truth be told you actually don’t give a shit but they’d get old quick if they suddenly decided to explore every inch of town looking for evidence of the supernatural. Not to mention what would happen if they did find something or someone. “Tourists are fine overall but not if it turns Rustic Hallow into some main attraction.”
He ponders this for a moment before saying, “It’d help business at first before bigger companies get the same idea.”
“Yep, and I’m not giving up our parks and hiking trails for stupid blocks of concrete,” you insist, shoving the napkins a bit more viciously inside the container than intended, the thin paper crinkling beneath the force.
From your peripherals, you see him nod in understanding. “True, then the wildlife would be in disarray from the deforestation and you won’t be able to go looking for wolves.”
“Exactly,” you agree, instantly catching yourself but not before you scowl at your mistake. And Yoongi’s smug grin isn’t helping either. “Will you cut it out with the wolf shit,” you complain, throwing a blue sugar packet at him.
It smacks the front of his hoodie and he easily grabs it before stuffing it back into the container. “But it’s so much fun. Nice flags by the way,” he remarks.
“Huh? Oh, yeah that was Elanor,” you say upon recognizing the pink, yellow, and blue sugar packets taped to the wall in a vertical line. “She made the pan flag while I did the trans one,” you explain, indicating to the other one. “We were just messing around but our manager doesn’t mind.”
“That’s pretty cool,” he muses, staring off ahead towards the windows before pushing away from the wall. “Anyway, I’ll let you get to work. Good luck.”
Your face pinches in confusion though it doesn’t take long until realization dawns upon hearing the bell chime as you see yet another large group of people enter. Yoongi gets situated at his usual spot while you return to taking orders and making drinks.
~*~
Later that night you’re walking with Wolfy who seems more on edge. Even though he continues listening to your ramblings, the lupine keeps his eyes trained towards the surrounding forest. When you finish talking, he remains concentrated on the trees, ears twitching every time the wind so much as whistles in between the branches.
“Wolfy?” The call of his nickname has him jerking in your direction with a cock of his head. “Everything okay?”
He nods with an assured bark.
“I guess you know about the attack too?” You tentatively ask.
Another nod.
“Yeah, it’s all everyone’s been talking about today.” Most people have been discussing the news practically all day yet some are rather nonchalant, believing it to be just an unfortunate encounter with a wild animal. The locals carried on about their day with the added gossip, leaving only the tourists and visitors to whisper amongst themselves about whether or not they should cancel their nature hike or skip fishing down at the lake. Though a few of the residents did joke about the idea of a possible werewolf wandering in the woods which just made the tourists more paranoid at the mere thought. Like that one college student.
But Wolfy isn’t feral. Yet you’ve seen him in action, that Halloween night when he decimated those goblins attacking you. He’s powerful but not evil. He wouldn’t do something like that. Right?
A light pat of a bushy tail hitting against your back has you jumping in surprise, inner turmoil immediately dispersing while the werewolf beside you hums in concern. “Sorry, I got lost in thought. People have been getting a little freaked out by it, letting their imaginations get ahead of themselves,” you explain.
He quietly watches you and you’re quick to divert your eyes away. Letting out a soft rumble, he leans close while you keep your gaze fixated on the ground. A huff of air hits the side of your face causing you to eventually look up at the wolf who’s still staring.
You release a sigh before blurting out, “You don’t know anything about what happened, do you?”
There’s a short pause as the lupine processes your words. He shakes his head, scrutinizing you carefully while you do the same, your eyes meeting shining gold.
Your footsteps slow, uncomfortable dread pulling down on your legs, the atmosphere becoming awkward. The heavy steps next to you matches your pace, eventually stopping when you do. “I mean, you wouldn’t, you didn’t hurt anyone, right?” Wincing at what you’re basically implying, you try refraining from spewing out any rambling thoughts, instead adding, “Of course accidents happen, and we haven’t known each other long so I’m still learning, you know?” So much for keeping your prattling in check. Why not just accuse him while you’re at it? Piss off the supernatural creature that can crush bone with hardly any effort.
Despite the cold air, your palms are warm and you wipe them against your pants before you clutch onto the soft fabric of your jacket, holding them still. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound accusing, it’s just the victim described the creature as a werewolf and you’re the only one I know. Not that I think you did anything,” you rush, “I just wanted to ask.” Your words wander off when a cold snout presses against your forehead, putting a little pressure that slightly pushes your head up.
It draws your attention toward the werewolf that bends to match your height while you blink in rapid succession. A huff of warm air fans across your face while he stares directly at you with an intensity that’s not scary but instead unwavering.
Blowing out a gentle breath, you conclude, “I’m blowing things out of proportion, aren’t I?” Your assumption is met with a shake of his head. A claw gently taps against your temple as your friend gives a short nod of approval. “So you like when I interrogate you is what I’m getting at if you don’t mind my questions then,” you jokingly respond.
He sends you a dull stare before rolling his eyes with a shake of his head as he resumes walking, his receding shadow leaving you directly beneath the light of the moon and lampposts.
You rush after him, feet moving rapidly so you can keep up with his long strides while you do your best to follow along. “Could there be a rogue werewolf possibly out here?” You quietly wonder.
Again, he denies the idea with another shake of his head, his eyes narrowing to the ground as he thinks about it.
Pursing your lips, you mutter, “Was it a supernatural creature too?” Your fingers involuntarily lift to twine and untwine together while the wolf contemplates for a moment before his shoulders barely lift in a shrug.
Wolfy shakes his head as he snorts, a growl rumbling low in his chest, shutting his eyes though you catch a glimpse of scarlet that bleeds into his irises. He grumbles in dissatisfaction, frustrated with something before heaving a deep breath and calms himself.
“Everything okay?” You ask, readjusting the jacket you’re wearing, pulling it closer to retain the heat.
He nods, lips pulling back and revealing those sharp canines as he smiles in reassurance. Always being nothing but kind to you and yet you feel a little bad for asking if he did it. Whatever, it’s fine. Everything’s okay.
Silence descends upon your walk home, weighing you down in your own awkwardness as you walk before you can’t take it any longer. “I figured it wasn’t you, just to clarify,” you blurt out, stopping yet again in your own tracks. “We barely know each other but still you’re not—what I mean is,” while you struggle for words he reaches out and carefully lets his hand rest on top of your head.
He pats it once causing your head to bob slightly from the force even if he’s being careful as his eyes remain on yours. Ever so slowly, his hand moves down the side of your face until eventually coming to a stop where he cups your cheek. The side of your face is engulfed in thick fur that carries such warmth yet it’s not overwhelming but rather comforting. Yet beneath the soothing gesture, there’s a faint tremor within the hand that touches you. It radiates up to his forearm, barely noticeable.
You almost miss the scarlet flecks that pulsate within the golden irises as you wrestle for words amidst the intimate hold you’re experiencing. Lips mouthing incoherent words, your brain eventually reconnects as you begin talking again. “I guess what I mean to say is you’re the one that actually protects us from the monsters,” you say after a minute. “I just hope people don’t get the wrong idea and you get hurt because they got scared and reacted.”
In response, Wolfy blinks once then yawns, his jaw opening wide to showcase his fangs yet again before casually licking his lips with a smack.
“Okay well excuse me for worrying about your safety,” you scoff though you’re also smiling. “I know how strong you are.”
He gives a pleased grunt before removing his hand, mindful of his claws as he does and he slightly shakes his head with a snort in return. Then he’s nudging you with a tender push as he guides you forward with a hand against your back.
The chorus of singing crickets is your only consistent background music while you both continue walking. It’s accompanied by you asking, “So did you do anything fun or interesting today?”
His response is to shrug with a short sniff.
“Oh come on, you always say that,” you joke, giving him a huff of your own.
He merely rolls his eyes yet he’s grinning as well.
You happen to look down at your feet just as you catch movement right in front of where you’re stepping. Gasping with a slight yelp, you jerk to an abrupt stop only to suddenly be yanked back and into a strong embrace. Wolfy keeps a tight grip with one arm while his other remains outstretched, his body taut and defensive as he checks for any unexpected attacks. A deep growl sounds from him, reverberating from his chest into your own, bones shivering in response. Your heart pounds rapidly in your ribcage, not just from the surprise but also from his sheer quickness, and you feel his own thrumming against your back as well.
When nothing happens and the forest remains still, you watch the ground as a gray snake slithers across in front. The dim lamppost provides just enough light to shine on the little creature while it carries on its way.
Breathing a sigh of relief, you release the tension from your muscles as you slump against him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so startled. It’s probably just a garden or rat snake,” you tell the werewolf who’s still apprehensive.
At your words, you feel him slowly ease up as he lets you down. Your shoes barely brush against the forest floor before you’re pulled back and pressed firmly against his torso, his hold remaining steadfast. The tip of his snout bumps the crown of your head before he begins walking forward with you still held tightly against him.
“Wait,” you realize, “are you seriously going to carry me all the way back home like this?” You can’t help but laugh when he grumbles from above in response. Tilting your head up, your eyes meet full crimson that catches you by surprise. “Wolfy, I’m okay,” you gently reassure him. Even if your arms are stuck, you manage in raising your hand to pat his forearm. It somewhat helps, the scarlet draining as a deep gold pools within his irises in return.
Regardless, he still proceeds in carrying you the rest of the way, which isn’t much further and you’re eventually set down on your feet right at the edge of the tree line. “Thank you for the free ride,” you tell him to which he responds with yet another snort and bump of his nose to your head. “I’ll see you soon I guess?”
He nods with an affirmed grunt.
Reaching up, you hold your hand out for him to tap his snout against your palm in your usual greeting and then scratch the side of his head just below his maw. Your lips quirk up as his eyes slide shut while he emits a low rumble of contentment that vibrates within the bones of your arm. Once you lean away, he pulls back and shakes his head. “Take care,” you tell him while he huffs in affirmation, nodding for you to do the same.
Backing away, you watch him delve further into the forest before you continue towards home.
~*~
On your day off, you’re curled up in the lounge chair at the bakery while munching on a strawberry roll cake. While still rather cool inside, it at least provides protection from the chilly air outdoors. You take another bite of the pastry while sifting through the books you got from the library. Most of them just talk about the usual myths relating to werewolves in general or depict folk stories from around the world. Nothing quite useful as they don’t seem to match your particular werewolf friend. Again, not some mindless, bloodthirsty monster.
You pick up the Fables or Folklore: What’s in Your City? book and read the back. Cities with various legends that could possibly be true. Finding the table of contents, you skim through the listed cities, bypassing most of the larger ones only to stop short at the sight of Rustic Hallow. How did your small town end up making the list?
Flipping over to the correct page, you see an introduction along with one bolded section. Quaint town home to magic barrier of darkness?
A peaceful place with bountiful forests and wildlife, this small town may possibly be hiding a dark secret. Though no evidence has been confirmed, sources say a barrier lies within the deep recesses of woods where evil creatures lie in wait for unsuspecting victims.
Believed to be a failed ritual by an alleged cult, it’s said that a hole was opened and darkness spread like an infection before eventually being contained by some unknown entity. No one has definitive proof this exists as no one has yet to find it, but what’s better than taking a hike in these trails to find out?
Cringy writing aside, the author isn’t exactly wrong. Yet you also didn’t expect anyone to actually know about the forest of monsters. Checking the sources, it doesn’t list much except for databases and local papers. Nothing about individual people. Even this book itself is written by someone who just compiled all these stories together. Not to mention, what cult are they talking about?
“How’s the food?”
The sudden question breaks you from your reverie as Seokjin slips into the chair across from you. He has a couple of tiny cookies tucked into a napkin while he chews on some more.
“It’s really good as always,” you confirm, wiping up the leftover whipped cream with a berry and pop it in your mouth.
Seokjin grins with a satisfied nod. “Of course, only the best is made here,” he reassures yet the tips of his ears turn a shade of red upon hearing your compliment. “Good book?” He asks, motioning to the splayed open pages.
“Yeah, it’s just about supposed supernatural stories in different cities and apparently we’re in it,” you say with faux surprise.
He reaches across for the little paperback and skims through it before giving an unimpressed scoff. “Sounds fake,” is his response as he slides it back towards you. “Is this for an assignment or some class?”
You tentatively shake your head. “Just for fun,” you admit. “I got curious about our town’s history and now I’m even more intrigued about this cult that’s mentioned.”
“Ayy, don’t be trying to summon demons or make any deals with them,” he warns with a scowl.
“I’m not,” you groan. As if this town needs another creature wreaking havoc along with whatever’s already lurking about. But if you can find out something about this cult, then maybe there’ll be more information about the dark forest and whatever attacked that tourist. If that’s where it even came from.
Glancing at the clock hanging above the decorative potted plants, you chew on your lower lip before letting out a resigned sigh. “I’ll probably get going before it gets too late.” Despite it only being 5:30, the overcast clouds further descend the streets into night. Burrowing beneath your blankets and catching up on your mystery show will have to wait it seems. You can feel yourself recoil upon seeing the condensation forming on the bakery’s windows. “Thanks for the food,” you say smiling as you collect your things.
At that moment, a timer trills from the back, the sound causing you both to jump before Seokjin gets to his feet. “Thanks for delivering the coffee yesterday,” he responds, slipping his apron on while retrieving the bread from the oven. “I was finishing a wedding cake along with a three-dozen order of donuts for someone’s business meeting that they needed last minute and tea wasn’t doing it.” The fresh scent of baked bread wafts throughout the space and it has your stomach wanting to stay for seconds.
“Yeah, I don’t mind. It’s not like your place is far. Though I’m surprised you don’t have a coffee machine for emergencies,” you note.
“Because your coffee is better. Just like our tea is better, no offense,” he adds, setting the tray aside so he can insert another one loaded with red bean buns into the oven.
You shrug in agreement, adjusting the strap of your bag as it nearly slides off your shoulder. “That’s accurate. But so are your baked goods, luncheon meals, and plants,” you continue, pointing out the variety of items for sale.
“Hey,” the baker chides, “just because both of our stores somewhat overlap on desserts doesn’t mean only one deserves all the praise. A café and tearoom slash garden shop aren’t the same.” He restocks the display cases with the fresh bread then proceeds to wash his hands. Drying his hands with a towel, he tosses it over his shoulder before turning back to you. “So please keep telling people we’re not merging,” he wearily sighs with upturned lips.
“Are the elders still insisting on it?” You wonder though you already know the answer even before he nods. “I mean you could just sell regular coffee to appease them.”
Seokjin rolls his eyes. “The book club members and everyone else that keeps asking can go without it. I’m not encroaching on someone else’s business. Besides, Cindy worked hard to get that place up and running. Plus,” he jams a finger at the tall display case full of gorgeous porcelain tea sets, “we’re a tearoom.”
“True. No one says anything to us, they just get their drink and either stay or leave,” you smugly tell him while he scowls in return.
“Because it’s a café and they accept that but for some reason the tearoom needs coffee,” he complains, offended at the mere thought. “It doesn’t even make sense. Why come here when the café is close by? Even the regulars, albeit not always locals, will recommend adding some as it will help improve business. Serving coffee will help the tea shop, seriously?”
Resisting the urge to smile, you instead keep your face neutral, eyes softening in sympathy while he finishes his rant with a frustrated huff. “There’s always compromising,” you reiterate before letting out a laugh as he painfully grimaces. “I’m just saying. And I highly doubt it’ll hurt the café.”
He situates himself to rest his palms on the granite counter, leaning forward until he’s hunching his shoulders and loudly whispers, “Get out. Or I’ll ban you for soliciting,” he threatens.
You gape at the warning, dramatically pressing a hand to your chest. “The audacity,” you complain. “But then your sales for your blue orangeade tea would drop and that’d be a shame.”
“My blueberry and orange fusion would still do well,” he counters. “Now go, off with you.” Seokjin flicks his hands, shooing you away while you wave in return.
“Tell Hobi I said hi. And I’ll probably see you again soon,” you say, exiting the warm store only to shudder at the cool air. The library thankfully isn’t too far, sitting just on the outer edge of the square and you walk quickly to get away from the frigid weather. As you approach the entrance, a guy is also heading that way and he holds the door open for you while you quietly thank him.
Once inside, you return some of the books but keep a few to continue reading. You head down to the archives and begin searching for history about this town, specifically anything regarding an apparent cult. After poring through the old computers, it does spit out a possible book reference and you jot the number down. Going down the rows, you eventually come to the right shelf, counting each one before peering up. You stretch an arm up but grumble lowly at the shelf that’s two rows too high. Checking the other sections for a step stool or even one of those stick grabbers, you find neither but instead see the guy who held the door open for you earlier. He stands by a shelf, skimming through one of the books before putting it back and reaching for another.
Not wanting to have a near miss like before, you decide on asking for help this time. “Excuse me, I don’t mean to bother you but could you help me grab a book please?” You ask as you approach causing him to glance up from the book summary he’s reading.
“Yeah, sure thing,” he says with an easy smile.
Leading him back around to your particular shelf, you point up to the tan book in the middle. “It’s just up there. The number is H318.” Using his long arms, he retrieves the hardback book with ease and hands it to you. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Anything else I can get you?” He asks and it’s then that you detect the Australian accent.
“No that’s everything, thanks again,” you say, wrapping your arms around the thick tome and holding it tightly. “Doing some research of your own?”
He glances down at his own book with a chuckle. “Yeah, something like that. My brothers and I came to get some fresh air since we’re on break. I wanted to see what landmarks and unique places we could go exploring,” he explains, indicating to the book he’s holding. “Guidebooks can only tell you so much, you know?”
“I get that. We have plenty of places to go but the town square is where you’ll find most of the shops and some of the fields nearby are really pretty. Is there something in particular you’re wanting to see?”
“What about hiking trails? Any good ones worth checking out?”
Please don’t let him be one of those thrill seekers. Judging from his athletic build, he surely seems active enough. Maybe he just likes working out and exercising a lot. You hesitate slightly before answering, “There’s definitely a lot to choose from but I’d recommend the magnolia orchard. It’s usually nice during this time of year. But maybe stick to the daytime rather than late afternoon or evening, just to be on the safe side,” you advise.
This causes him to tilt his head in confusion. “Oh, are you talking about the recent attack?”
“Kind of hard to miss, right,” you note to which he gives a nod of agreement. “But I wouldn’t worry too much, the woods are normally safe.”
His lips turn up into a smile, dimples peeking out as he does so. “Nah, it’s all good. We’re not worried about it. But thanks for the tip.”
“Of course. Thanks for helping me out,” you reply, motioning to your book. “Hope you enjoy your stay here.”
“Definitely plan on it. I’m Chan, by the way,” he says.
You introduce yourself as well and he extends his hand out for you to shake. When your hands touch, you can’t help the involuntarily flinch upon feeling the coldness of his skin.
“Sorry, still a bit chilly from the weather,” he apologizes with a grimace.
“I get it. And it’ll only get colder from here on out. But if you ever need a place to warm up, the coffee shop is pretty good if I do say so myself,” you suggest.
He grins at that, perfect white teeth on full display. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” Before either one of you can say more, the grandfather clock from nearby chimes, the sound echoing in the space as it marks the time. Chan winces and rubs the side of his neck. “That’s probably my queue to head back. But it was great meeting you,” he quickly adds.
You nod in return. “Yeah, nice meeting you too. Stay warm.”
“For sure,” he reassures before adding, “you too.”
Waving one last time, you watch as he silently disappears around the corner.
~*~
The next day, it’s just you and Yoongi at the coffee shop where you’re going through the task of cleaning up before closing time. Since he offered to help with sweeping the front area despite you insisting that you can manage, you finish at the counter before moving to the next chore. You head to the back and ensure everything’s put away correctly. But as you turn the corner of one of the shelves, you nearly run straight into a floating yellow dust cloud. Yelping, you lurch into the shelf behind you, knocking over a few coffee bags while a blender clangs loudly to the floor. The will o’ wisp flies back as it shimmers into a pale shade, almost translucent.
Before you can utter a word, the employee door bashes open, slamming harshly against the wall, causing the creature to hide in a flurry. Yoongi stands right at the entrance, body poised in a defensive stance as he frantically scans the room before his bloodred eyes find your own.
“Are you okay?” He gruffly asks, immediately coming over to help you up.
You quietly nod, face burning upon feeling his hands touch your arm and hip as you keep a tight grip on the shelf. “Yeah. Um, are you?”
Panic flits across his face, ruby eyes widening momentarily before he looks away. When his gaze returns to meet your confused expression, those chocolate eyes are back with flecks of amber. “Yeah, just making sure you’re okay,” he answers, giving you a strange look, “heard a lot of loud noises back here.” He glances around the small space and you take the opportunity to do the same but find no trace of the shimmering creature.
Clearing your throat, you mutter, “Sorry, I got startled.”
He looks at you again, slightly perplexed even as his eyes narrow. “By what?”
“A lightening bug,” you mumble, hoping it’s inaudible enough yet he hears no problem judging from the odd stare he’s currently giving you.
It’s silent for a beat too long. “A lightening bug,” he deadpans. The harsh skepticism in his tone only further emphasizes how ridiculous you know you sound.
Still, you’re keeping that alibi as you nod with false affirmation. “Yep.”
“In the fall?”
Shit. “Yeah, that’s why it was so surprising. But it might’ve been something else, maybe like a…moth?” Your question at the end sounds painfully like you’re seeking confirmation from him and you internally cringe. Why didn’t you start with that in the first place?
Yoongi continues blankly staring at you while you’re standing there self-consciously shifting awkwardly. This carries on for several seconds, still much too long for you, so you preoccupy yourself with retrieving all the things you knocked over. Keeping your focus on what you’re doing, you reset the coffee bean bags as well as the sugar and other ingredients all while you can feel him burning a hole into the side of your head.
A blender appears beside you on the shelf, causing you to jump in surprise while he steps closer to help put things away. He picks up an old coffee pot that had also fallen over and sets that on the higher shelf. “Why so uneasy, Y/N?” He inquires, catching your eyes in an immobile hold when you happen to glance over at him.
Scratching the side of your face, you check the floor for anymore fallen objects while also looking for the creature before answering, “I’m not uneasy.”
“You keep scanning the room as if you’re looking for something.”
“I am?” He shoots you a look, causing you to backtrack. “No, you’re right,” you sigh. “I just want to make sure I got everything that was knocked over. It’s been an off few days since people started talking about the animal attack so I guess I’ve just been a little jumpy.”
From over his shoulder, you see the will o’ wisp peeping out from behind some stacked boxes and your eyes widen before you can think to stop yourself. Though you quickly relax your expression, Yoongi immediately notices and begins looking behind him. So you do the only thing that comes to mind and rush forward, throwing your arms around him.
Caught in your sudden embrace, he freezes beneath you going so still that you don’t even think he’s breathing. The ends of his long brown hair tickles the backside of your hands and you have the sudden urge to run your fingers through the strands. And then you become painfully aware of the awkward situation, secretly hoping the floor will open up and swallow you whole before you have to attempt explaining yourself. But of course that doesn’t happen and as the seconds grow longer, you gulp before squeezing your arms tighter around him. He inhales sharply at the movement and you feel a warmth building in your chest where a soft humming seems to resonate from him.
“It’s a cockroach.”
“What?” Whatever mood had been previously developing in that moment dissolves in an instant.
Inhaling deeply, the strong scent of pine that permeates from his hoodie nearly distracts you yet you rush in explaining yourself. “The thing that scared me. It’s a cockroach. A really big, nasty, cockroach that also flies.”
The will o’ wisp shifts into a deep shade of cherry as it quietly seethes at your description. You wave a hand at it and put a finger over your lips before it can begin bubbling in fury. It flits angrily in place and you point to the back door then the shelf next to it. The ghost understands, flying up to the shelf before ducking behind the stacked mugs.
“Could you help get rid of the cockroach? I think it went somewhere back there,” you say, reluctantly leaning away from him as you point in the opposite direction to the cabinets.
“Are you seriously that afraid of a bug?” He sighs.
Still gripping his shoulders, your fingers clench the fabric of his clothes as you peer directly into his eyes where the caramel flecks have gotten slightly bigger within the mocha of his dark irises. “Very,” you whisper. “Please?” You plead with a pathetic pout.
The scowl almost seems to melt before your very eyes as his features soften only for the dry expression to return. “Fine. Didn’t know wolf girl was such a scaredy cat,” he mutters to himself before easing his arms from around you as he begins sifting through the drawers and cabinets.
While his back faces you, you make your way to the backdoor and check for the creature who silently floats down towards the exit. It wraps itself around your hand and you feel its heat warm against your skin.
Once it releases you, you shove the door open where it shoots out into the night. Slamming it shut, you turn back and find Yoongi already facing you. “Got it. It ended up by the door so I just let it go free,” you explain, desperately hoping he didn’t see anything.
Cocking his head, his eyes shift between you and the door. “Thought you were too scared to get near it,” he notes.
Shrugging, you head towards the front of the shop so you can finish up in there. “It was right above the door frame so I just threw it open and it went out.”
You feel him watching you as he follows from behind and you peek over your shoulder to see his lips quirking up. “You’re something else, you know that?” He scoffs.
“That’s fair,” you admit with a smile of your own. Almost everything is put away for the night except for the chairs, so you quickly begin setting them on top of the tables.
From the opposite side of the room, Yoongi does the same, flipping the seats two at a time with such ease. Showoff. It’s quiet as you both silently work, finishing the outer tables before meeting in the middle at the last one.
When the final one is complete, you thank him for the help while he nods, calling your name just before you turn. “Hey, uh, do you want me to walk you home? I mean, so that terrifying cockroach doesn’t come back for you,” he says with a smirk.
You pause, hesitating for a moment to think because what if Wolfy decides to show up? He doesn’t come every night but there’s a chance he could. At your hesitation, his grin falters but before he can immediately retract his offer, you awkwardly shrug. “Yeah, why not? I wouldn’t mind the company honestly,” you admit.
After closing up shop, the two of you begin walking through the forest trail accompanied by the music of rustling trees and crunching leaves in the background. You’ve been keeping an eye out for him, but Wolfy is nowhere in sight, no trace of golden eyes whatsoever. Maybe he’s busy tonight.
“So what do you think about the attack?” You finally ask.
“Odd,” Yoongi plainly answers. It’s a fair way to describe it and he says it so matter-of-factly compared to the hushed whispers and excited gossiping from everyone else. There’s no concern or even slight hint of interest, just his usual straightforward demeanor.
Staring off into the forest, you think for another minute before continuing. “What do you think about what people are saying? That it’s some kind of supernatural creature?”
“You mean like the other day when those college kids said it was a werewolf?” He chuckles dryly.
Returning your gaze to him, you nod. “Yeah, like that.”
He tilts his head in your direction and gives you an easy smile. “Do you actually believe that or are you just desperately wanting proof that your werewolves exist?”
Will he ever let that go? Instead you merely roll your eyes at the mention of your personal studies. “Hey, just because I’m interested in the supernatural doesn’t mean I’m an investigator or hunter of some kind.”
That just causes him to let out a snort that he muffles by covering his mouth with his hand. “Oh, I know. You’re just a fan.”
“You make it seem like I’m obsessed,” you complain, crossing your arms across your chest defensively, “I just think they’re cool.”
From beneath his fingers, you still catch the evident grin peeking out. “Pretty sure you raided the library’s entire catalogue of werewolf books that night.”
“I did not!”
“Did too,” he retorts with a shake of his head. He uncovers his mouth and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Seriously, what would you even do if you met a werewolf in real life?”
“I’d kiss it,” is your immediate response.
Yoongi coughs to himself and his cheeks burn bright pink as he stares at you in disbelief. “What?”
It’s your turn to grin at him. “Mmhmm, I’d smother them in kisses because aren’t werewolves just oversized dogs?”
His face morphs into a confused, almost offended expression at your declaration. “Sure, if you think they’re like Twilight.” He glances away for a second before giving you a sideways look, searching your face for something before heaving a sigh. “Don’t tell me that’s what your basing it off of.”
Surely he could give you a bit more credit than that. Judging from the disappointed groan he lets out that sounds unlikely. “Well then what are they supposed to be like, Mr. Expert?” You sarcastically wonder, your eyes widening with fake curiosity.
Again the expression of disgust is back, his upper lip curling. “How would I know? They’d have to actually be real first.”
Despite masking it as a cough, the small giggle that slips passed your lips instantly catches his attention as he sends you a dubious glare.
“What? Something I said funny?” He asks, raising a brow.
Actually. “No, but,” while you’re staring forward you can still see him from your peripherals as he keeps his gaze fixated on you, “who says they’re not?”
He rolls his eyes. “Considering no one has any solid proof, I’d say they weren’t. Unless you know something I don’t,” he implies.
If only he knew. As if Wolfy would be interested in a meet-and-greet anyway. Of course, you almost wish you could have the chance to prove him wrong but you instead swallow that irresistible urge of satisfaction by answering, “Nope.”
“Shame,” he sighs with mock despair. “And here I thought you were about to drag me to your complete slideshow with all your evidence and theories.”
“Oh, come on, I’m not that invested in all this.”
“I don’t know,” he hums, “you seem pretty passionate about it to me. Especially considering you read a bunch of books for research,” he says with air quotes, “and your first reaction would be to kiss one. Sounds obsessive to me.”
The breeze picks up at that moment as the wind blows through the trees and sends dried leaves cascading into the air. A handful smack against your body with a few probably sticking to the back of your jacket while a rather large orange one lands right on top of Yoongi’s head. Yet he doesn’t seem to notice it so you reach up to casually pluck it loose.
He flinches, leaning away as he scowls at you while you show him the dead leaf before flicking it right back at him to which he smacks it in return. “I’m not obsessed, just curious,” you emphasize.
It doesn’t faze him as he shrugs once more. “Whatever you say.”
Muttering under your breath, you look forward and see the break in the trees that lead right to your house. “Thanks for the walk home,” you tell him once you reach the edge of the path.
“It’s no problem. Have a good night, Y/N,” he says. Turning on his heel he starts heading back before you’re snatching the fabric of his cotton hoodie. Yoongi glances over his shoulder at you, silently waiting expectantly.
“Are you actually going to walk back home? I mean, the bus stop isn’t too far away from here,” you note, finger also pointing out its direction.
He shakes his head. “I’ll be fine, it’s not that long of a walk.”
But there’s only the main square with shops and open forest that stretches miles in some directions. “Wait, how far away do you live?”
“Not too far. I take the Old Shaw Trail so it’s fine.”
“Oh,” your brows furrow at that, “I haven’t been down that way before. There’s so many different pathways.”
An owl hoots from nearby just as it flies overhead where you watch it disappear into the branches while he takes a step back to free his clothes from your grip. “Yeah, but they’re fun to explore. Anyway, see you around,” he says with a wave.
“Yoongi,” you call and he turns to look back, “stay safe,” you softly murmur.
He grins in return. “You too.”
Once he disappears from view, you continue towards your house. As you dig in your little purse for your keys, you feel something stiff and crumpled inside. Quizzically, you pull free the large brown leaf where you notice writing scribbled on one side. You hold it beneath the porch light, squinting to read the tiny font.
Full moon, talk soon -WW
— — —
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A/N: Yet another chapter update posted in the same month, in the same year?? It surprised me too, but I’m doing my best to actually stay on top of my stories and post them in a somewhat timely manner. Again, thank you everyone for patiently waiting and I hope y’all enjoy!
#yoongi scenarios#suga scenarios#bts scenarios#bts fanfic#bts imagines#wolf!au#fanfic#my writing#Caramel Eyes Mocha Paws
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🐶 Please be kind to our fp, Some of them bite but most are very silly! They've shown nothing but safety and support so we're excited to see them join the mod team. They're extremely yippie 🎉🎊 for us. They're the best people to exist /hj and will make sure to keep this blog safer because some of you randos are.. something else. I added onto this introduction draft since we needed to fit our daily validation somewhere :) - Joei
NEW SYSTEM ALERT NEW SYSTEM ALERT WOO WOO WOO
Helllll-o!! Nice to meet you! We're the new system on the block and we're here to keep up with repairs and wall painting! (Read: We're moderation staff, so we probably won't be posting much, but we will be monitoring our inbox and any messages sent to this account! No touchey touchey! Didn't your CGs teach you if you have nothing nice to say don't say it at all?)
I'm Sun, and the system I'm part of is known as Planetary Solar! (get it? planetary solar system? aren't we clever) We as a system are in a trans, Māori body! 18 and fresh on the adulting scene! (Drinking capri-suns and eating pizza rolls, obviously!) We're known for our dinosaur capsule parties and amazing mac and cheese recipe, and we'd love to meet ya!
Me personally? Well, I'm a caregiver, daycare attendant (go figure!), part time drummer and full time cuddlebug! I like eating rice at 3am with my comfort lamps and putting glitter glue in Moon's morning coffee, (He's a robot, it doesn't hurt him, just tastes bad) and showing off the fact I'm able to fold fitted sheets! Did I mention I train service dogs? No? Well, that's because I don't, I'm supposed to but I mainly feed them snacks and cry about the puppies, but technically that's part of my job description!
Some of the fronters you can expect to see are, drumroll please...
Leo! Otherwise known as Neon Leon, this gay little turtle is known for skateboarding, sending the bee movie script at 3am to his twin brother, and being an outright river goblin that'll rob you of your left socks and spraypaint your rights so they stick to themselves. Thanks for that Leo.
Donnie! Otherwise known as... Knows way too much about uranium, or Dontron, he's best known for his keen intellect, complete lack of social cues, and his inability to wear scarves that have "too much itch".
Sans! You. You know him. He doesn't need an introduction.
Shara! The wonderful rainbow-haired menace that carves holes through your drywall to screech words forgotten by man only known by eldritch abominations affectionately if you bring up his favourite games!
Will! He's mentally ill and will tell you mean things if you're a troll.
And... Well, we'll update as we go along! For now I think that's quite a long enough explanation of us and you've probably already scrolled at least 6 posts down after seeing the length of this introduction, but hey! If you're still around, at least you know what to expect! Have a cookie, or, maybe a... Like, an apple pie if you can't have cookies. Actually apple pies and cookies have pretty similar "no-no" ingredients. Googly eyes?
#soft rambles from above#new staff introduction#new staff#introductions#long posts#sun posting#system introduction
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•Morning pancakes ♥️•
• Is there anything more delicious than pancakes with honey for breakfast? Well there is something more delicious but you have to read to see it •
Notes: consider this as a christmas fanfic,even though it's a week until christmas 😅 i wish you guys a merry christmas or happy holidays!
Eugene wakes up to the addictive smell of pancakes wafting into the room, he looks to the side and sees you're not in bed he quickly assumes you're in the kitchen,He stayed a few minutes in bed until he got up wearing only his underwear as it was just the two of you alone in the house that week as Abraham and Rosita had gone on a two week run and. he goes into the room and sees you only in your bathrobe maneuvering the frying pan,He smells the beautiful scent again he gives a slight smile and feels.
- Good morning..- he says monotonously
You startle slightly at his husky voice behind you, you thought he was going to sleep late and surprise him like coffee you turn your head to him and give him a gentle smile
- Good morning handsome- Your mouth curves into a smile as you turn your attention back to the fridge.- I didn't think you'd wake up so early, you don't want to go back to bed, I'll bring you breakfast in bed..
- No need, you made my favorite breakfast I would feel bad for you to spoil me like that - leans on his arms.
you smile as you take the five pancakes and put them on the plate while you get a jar of honey, you put the pancakes in front of him you give him a light kiss on the cheek as you serve them he blushes and gives a disconcerted smile.
- thanks... I'm glad Abraham and Rosita aren't here otherwise those pancakes would have been gone a long time ago.- he picks up the jar of honey and puts a big dollop on the pancakes as he devours them.
you stop him as he shoves them into his mouth he looks like he really wanted to eat, he looked like a kid with cheeks sticky with honey his mouth full of pancakes you laugh when you see this,He stops for a moment then looks at you he wipes his mouth and says:
- this is the most delicious thing you've ever made, have you always cooked this well? - He puts more honey on the pancake.
- My grandma made me pancakes when I was a kid, she used to say that cooking for someone you love is the best ingredient.- you snatch the pot of honey from his hand before he's done with it.
He blushes at your words he knew you loved him but every time you spoke he felt his heart beat faster.
- Hahaha you look cute when you blush, now eat because it's going to be a while before I make pancakes again- You blow him a kiss as you turn your attention back to your plate.
he pouts but he goes back to devouring the pancakes,when he was done he offered to wash the dishes since you had cooked.You hadn't even realized it but when you saw his ass in those tight briefs you felt a twinge in your core,You had nothing on under your robe you look down and see the pot of honey on the table until an idea comes to him, when he has finished he looks back and sees you spilling the honey over your bare shoulder.
- so you like things with honey right? - you feel the honey spill over your skin, he looks at you with wide eyes- Oops! How clumsy that I am can you help me clean up?- you smirk at him
Eugene stood like a statue for about 2 minutes trying to process if that was really happening, he quickly walked towards you sitting next to you.
- you're going to end up making me diabetic...- he licks your shoulder taking the sweet liquid out of him- you are already sweet and want to stay even more?
He takes the pot of honey and pours it over her breasts he licks the trail down to her nipples, you moaned feeling his mouth sucking in all the liquid you took some of the honey that was left on your body and rubbed it on your lips making it clear that you wanted to be kissed,he stopped sucking you and looked at you and smiled before licking your lips and kissing you.
While he was kissing you, you took off your robe. and began to rub honey on other parts of her body, Eugene seized and licked every part.
- You look so sweet y/n- He slowly licks your honey-smeared thigh while looking at you slyly.
- Eat me then Eugene! Eat me like you ate those pancakes..- you stroke his head trying not to get honey on his mullet.
he rubbed the honey between his folds and licked,you squirm in the chair as he sucks your honey-slick clit you relaxed while feeling the pleasure he gave,he tasted every part of you while you moaned and gasped,eugene's mouth was so calm and delicious that you couldn't hold back he stuck a finger in you,it felt so good you would come in record time.
- ahhhh Eugene dear I'm going to come!.. - you bring his head closer to your intimacy while he licks you fervently
when you cum he licks all your juices he runs his tongue all over your pussy looking at you while you were rolling your eyes. when he pulls away you see his mouth all sticky mixed with your juice and honey.
- this is better than honey- he licks his lips sensually.
you lose control this time you lay him on the wooden floor, while taking off his shirt you get on top of him and kiss him urgently,he didn't know why but you turned him on too much.
- now i want to taste you...- You say between his lips.
- not this time..- he squeezes your ass tightly-I want to satisfy myself inside you..
You gasped looks like the shy Eugene was gone, you liked that Eugene who said sexy things to you that made you wet just listening to it.
Eugene flipped you onto your back on the hardwood floor,caressing your beautiful back he took the pot of honey and poured it over them.
You felt a shiver as you felt the viscous, sticky liquid slide over your back and heading towards between your legs,
- This is going to be hard to clean up later...- you blush you felt indecent being in that position in the kitchen.
He presses your ass over his erection it looks like he's taken off his underwear- I'll help you clean it up later... especially the parts you can't reach...- He leans over you putting his mouth to your ear biting it as he whispers - like deep inside..
he saw that you shivered at his words,he ran his hands over your skin he took his member and placed it between your legs watching every reaction of your body,you loved him and loved the way he satisfied you..he entered you and you moaned out loud,he put his hand on your waist and the other hand went towards her sticky breast because of the honey and going towards your clitoris.you had just come it gave you goosebumps to feel his fingers again on your clit as he entered you slowly.you tried to hold yourself steady with your arms but all the sensations you felt made you soft as jello, your arms ached as you tried to get your ass up.
he leaned over you putting all the weight on your back, which made his mission to stay in the position more difficult he lifted you up and placed you sitting behind him doing the reverse cowgirl position, he lifted your legs leaving you even more exposed you felt his heavy breathing in your ear until he whispered in your ear:
- talk dirty to me my dear- his voice was deep
You couldn't speak he was hitting spots you didn't even know existed as he stimulated your clit.
- Come on, you can do it my dear..- he asks again while biting your ear.
you noticed that he had lost his shyness from before, leaving you in this position and saying those things, he squeezed your nipples with one hand while he squeezed your thigh with the other.
- what do you want me to say? - your body was getting hot with his every thrust you were close again.
- how much do you like having me inside you...- Eugene whispered in a warm voice
He lunged hard he had both hands on your legs now, and was starting to accelerate he wanted you to talk if you didn't talk he was going to make you talk..
- I LIKE- you scream when he reaches your "sweet spot"- I like it when you fuck me..- you look back and see that he had a serious expression but his eyes were shining with lust.
- tell me why my sweetie?- He laughs in your ear.
- because your body is so sensual and your voice with its beautiful accent makes me so excited- you gasped as you spoke you were seeing stars the more he hit that spot.
- Do you like it when i go deep like that?- He kisses your back and then your shoulder as he sank deeper into you.
- Yes!- you bow your head that feeling was giving you so much pleasure.
- Do you like it too? - he massages your clitoris lightly.
- yes a lot! - you were about to fall apart on that floor, you were feeling your orgasm again it looked like eugene was reaching the limit too.
- how do you want me to do it? - he accelerates the movements more he also wanted to come it was being great to feel your pussy squeeze every part of his penis.
- FAST!! FUCK ME QUICK - you feel tears of pleasure spill over your face.
- Anything you want babe! - he sinks deeper into you several times as he feels the knot in his stomach - don't you dare waste I want to feel my seed inside you...
as you squeezed his cock you felt his warm liquid inside you, you turned your head back and kissed him as you both reached your climax,You stayed a few more seconds in that position until he took you in his arms.
- Looks like we're going to have to do a long cleanup in this kitchen..- you chuckle
He chuckles as he wipes some honey off your cheek- But first let's clean you up baby
You two showered together and then with a lot of effort cleaned the floor later Abraham and rosita arrived, you were with Eugene on the porch talking until you hear Abraham scream.
- WHO WAS THE SON OF A BITCH THAT ATE ALL THE HONEY?!- Looks like he was running towards the porch
You and Eugene look at each other until you speak.
- We better run!
You take his hand and run to Glenn and Maggie's house.
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XIX-THE SUN CH.9
CH.9 Bake me a heart of gold
Fëanorians x GN Modern Reader Sub pairing CH9: Caranthir x reader x Amrod
wordcount: 2,6k
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People say that love goes through the stomach, and in a way it does. When we love someone we make them food and give them our peeled oranges. We want them to feel happy and be healthy. Making something with your hands is and always has been a love language.
Especially for those with soft, ruddy and freckled faces.
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(Y/N POV)
Many people have head canons about Caranthir enjoying baking. Including me. And I’m hell bent on finding out today. The weather forecast said that today would be a rainy and cool day. So it won’t be excruciating to stand in the kitchen baking things.
I’m thinking about baking something with cherries and chocolate. The cherry harvest has been fantastic lately so there’s plenty to eat and work with. I wonder if Caranthir also likes cherries? Maybe something with coffee…. Now that I think about it, I should invite Amrod as well. He’s been quiet for a while. Perhaps more than usual.
I’ve been sitting in a daze on the couch for quite some time now. The rain on the windows and rooftop isn’t helping with keeping me awake. Instead it’s lulling me to sleep. I decide to force myself to get up despite the onsetting sleepiness. I don’t want to miss out on an opportunity to get to know them better.
I walk towards the kitchen to prep the ingredients. Cherries, dark cacao powder, sugar, butter , eggs etc. I’ve placed most things on the counter. Eggs and butter need to be room temperature to get the best results. Otherwise you’ll waste too much energy trying to force the ingredients together. Now all I need to do is get Caranthir and Amrod to agree with baking something together. I walk off towards their rooms quickly. Excited about the prospect of being able to see Caranthir’s baking skills. If the head canons turn out to be true that is….
I knock on the door and open it slowly. Giving the elves enough time to acknowledge my presence. I find Caranthir working at his desk, he doesn’t look up when I enter. He only grunts and continues to scribble away at his notes. I get greeted by a warm smile from Curufin instead. He seems to have gotten more comfortable with me the past few days. I remember the first day we met crystal clear. We butt heads pretty fast. He tried to disassemble my grandfather’s antique clockworks. I would’ve been in some serious trouble if he had succeeded. I’m glad we seem to be roughly on the same page now.
Celegorm and I though…..I sometimes think that we aren’t even reading the same book, so no chance of being on the same page here. Not at all times though, sometimes we actually seem to come to a natural understanding of each other. It surprises me how he is so gentle, with wildlife and others he cares for, it’s a stark contrast to the predominating “Lúthien stealing and cocky snob” elf I perceived him as before.
My train of thought was soon enough lost on all the ways I connected to these elves. It made me feel warm inside. Not a moment later my attention was brought back to reality by an arguing Caranthir and Curufin. I entirely missed the point of their discussion. So I kind of just stood there like a piece of misplaced décor. I really should be asking Cara about whether or not he’d like to join me… otherwise the butter will end up melting before we even get to it… I thought to myself.
I muster up some courage before I decide to jump straight into the lion’s mouth.
“Caranthir? I was wondering if you’d maybe like to join me and maybe Amrod to bake something? I heard that you enjoy baking so I thought that we’d try something with cherries and chocolate.” I said.
He fell silent for a moment, pondering whether to join or not. “Will there be coffee involved?” he asked. His face seemed to dance right past the line of ‘either there be coffee or no me.’ Does he really like coffee that much….
“Ah, yes sure! We can add some into the baked goods or just have a cup on the side if you’d like.” I said, aware of the sheepish expression on my face. He nodded, seemingly content with the knowledge of getting a few cups of coffee out of it.
He turned back to his desk, cleaning off and putting away any papers he still had on his desk. Neatly stacking them in a drawer. He turned to Curufin saying something along the lines of ‘we’ll finish this discussion later’. I wasn’t paying much attention to things today. It must be something in the rain.
I smile at Curvo and excuse myself from their room, walking towards the twins’ bedroom. Hopeful to catch Amrod on time. Again knocking on the door to their room I wait for a ‘come in’. Though as soon as I knocked Amras had opened the door. “Hey y/n, what brings you here?” he asks. “I was looking for Amrod, I was hoping he’d join me and Caranthir for a bit of baking.” told him, looking over his shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of his brother. Amrod has not only been fairly quiet but also hasn’t left his shared room much at all as of late. It worried me a little.
Amras turned back towards his brother and talked to him for a bit about whether or not he felt up to it. Turning back to where I stood, Amras told me Amrod would join us in the kitchen in a little while. So I smiled and left for the kitchen. Hopefully the butter hasn’t gotten too soft yet…..
---------------
When I arrived in the kitchen Caranthir was already there. He had his hair in a thick braid, no longer wearing the layers upon layers of coverings to hide his reddened skin. Instead favoring something lighter, still modest, but not as suffocating as what he wore when I asked him to come downstairs. He looked nice, it seemed to help him cool down as well.
“What are you waiting for? For the butter to finally melt so far it drips off the counter?” he bit at me. I notice a small smidge of blush on his face. He might’ve thought I was judging his skin…. He’s always been made fun of it by his brothers. I avert my gaze towards the poor, nearly melted clump of butter on the counter. I guess the rain doesn’t cool down enough for butter to stay solid.
“Ah…you’re right, we’d better hurry then! Would you mind mixing the sugar, eggs and butter together while I pit the cherries?” I laughed some, renewing my motivation to bake. Those cherries look so amazing, I can’t wait to eat them. Caranthir grunted in reply and went on to combining some ingredients together quietly. A faint blush on his face that just wouldn’t leave.
I knew cherries stained but this was ridiculous. My hands looked like I spilled a litre of reddish purple ink all over my hands. Luckily I didn’t get any juice on my clothes. There’s no way I would’ve been able to get that out. My train of thought gets interrupted by a snort to my right. I turn to look and see Caranthir openly laughing at the “dyed” state of my hands. As if he could do it without creating any less messiness in the process. I give him a pointed look. He only smirks and continues combining the damned eggs with the rest of the equally damned butter-sugar mixture.
Whatever for was I feeling so salty? I have no idea. As if he were the very answer to my prayers, Amrod walked into the kitchen. Interrupting my séance of saltiness.
“I see you already started. Anything I could help with?” He said while staring at my hands with a strange look. As soon as it had passed through his eyes it had already disappeared. He turned his gaze away from my hands to look at anything other than the red stains which adorned them.
I asked him to heat up the oven. This turned out to be a challenge since he had no idea how ovens here work. After explaining how the oven worked he managed just fine. I mashed up the cherries into a jam like consistency and strained some of the juice into a cup to use in the cake.
Caranthir was eyeing the coffee machine for a while now. So I took that as a que for a coffee break. As soon as the three of us had settled for a moment it seemed that it wouldn’t be for long, Amrod had sneaked his hand into the bag of flour and kept it close to him as if he had nothing in his hand. Within seconds all hell broke loose. Amrod had thrown a generous helping of flour in Caranthir’s face, I wasn’t spared of his trickery either. This led to an all out flour war between the three of us. The whole kitchen was covered in a fine helping of flour within a few moments.
Caranthir’s face grew redder and redder with each second to pass by. He was no better than his youngest brother, fully engaging in the flour fight himself. At some point I had hidden under the kitchen table trying to catch a break from getting white pasty dust stuffed up my nose. This didn’t last long as Amrod had found me under the table and not so graciously dragged me by the ankle from under it as a ‘war-prisoner’.
At some point we finally stopped our flour-fight in favor of finishing the cake we were planning on baking. Each one of us having cherry juice smeared on their limbs and flour in our hair and clothes. At least we all had some form of a smile on our faces, having somewhat enjoyed pummelling each other with flour.
After a long time of prepping we finally got to sit down at the kitchen table. The rain was still pouring outside the window. Now that I’ve sat down I can actually feel the chill in the air from the cooling rain, even inside of the house. A cup of tea in front of all three, to warm us up a little. It’s an incredibly wet and cold day for summer. It feels more like autumn really. We sat in silence for a while, none of us sure of what to say or do to spark conversation. The silence between us was comfortable.
“Why did you invite us to come bake something with you?” Amrod’s question startled me from my daze. “Mostly because I heard about the both of you enjoying baking and doing things with your hands I suppose. No real rhyme or reason behind it other than this.” I said. I wasn’t aware of any ulterior motives of my own. The only idea that came to mind was wanting to spend time with them and not having a real excuse to do so. Even in my world they still seem to be busy with matters of their homeland. Either directly or indirectly. So I can’t just pop into their rooms to spend time with them whenever I wish to. It makes me a little sad.
“Say, have you ever wondered or known what your love languages are?” I asked, looking up at their confused faces I realize that might’ve been a strange thing to ask. Both were silent, I now feel stupid for even asking. I was about to open my mouth to backtrack but I get cut off by Amrod. “I think something that is predominantly a Fëanorian love language is making things by hand. All in our family do it to some extent. Curvo and Atar are most noticeable examples, since they craft for those they love.” He smiled remembering his home and family life.
“ Not to forget Moryo, he bakes things frequently as a sign of care.” He added. Caranthir scoffed and turned tomato red at his brother’s remark. He’s so emotionally constipated…… I thought while watching poor Moryo be teased by his younger brother. “Ah! I remember once when I was sick he spent hours in the kitchen concocting some soup and warm honey cake. He cares so much yet he only shows it through his hands. If he likes you enough that is.” Amrod laughed loudly about the steadily reddening face of his elder brother. What was once a tomato red was now a deep cherry red. I was tempted to hold my hand to his forehead to check for fever. It couldn’t possibly be healthy to turn that shade of red.
Once again our sweet moment was interrupted by the oven alarm going off to signal the cake being ready. Caranthir was the first to storm off towards the oven. Helplessly trying to get it to shut up. I got up quickly to make sure my oven didn’t get the angry- Moryo treatment like the door to the bathroom had gotten a week ago. If you look closely you’ll see it has a slight dent in it now. Nothing serious, but still there. Caranthir had calmed down some as soon as I turned the alarm off. No longer as irritated by the incessant beeping.
An hour had passed and the cake was finally put together. It was a bootleg black forest cake. With golden hearts and halved cherries on the tuffs of whipped cream. It looked lovely. We put it in the fridge to set until everyone could gather to enjoy it.
When I turned around to put my apron back I lost my footing, tripping over air like I’ve done many times before. Though this time I wasn’t met with the hard ground, but someone’s chest instead.
---------
Caranthir POV
I was going to walk off after cleaning the mess we made with the flour when I heard a yelp behind me. I turned around and saw y/n falling over, straight into my arms. Luckily I caught them in time. Otherwise they would’ve gotten hurt badly. I looked up to see Amrod’s worried face staring back at them and me. Y/n looked dishevelled, leaning against my chest. They were having trouble composing themselves it seemed. I don’t know what to do with the close proximity between us. I don’t want them to feel uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I’d want after all I’ve somehow come to feel for this Edain.
I let them rest against me for a few moments longer until they pull away themselves. Still holding them by their elbows. They seem to have come to their senses, suddenly their complexion looking a lot more akin to the one I see in the mirror everyday. The color blooming over their face like flowers in the morning sun. It makes me feel softer than I should have ever allowed myself to feel.
They lean further away from me, finally disconnecting at the elbow. I am suddenly aware of how cold the room is.
Was the room always this cold…..?
------------
Amrod POV
I saw y/n tripping over their feet straight into Moryo’s arms. They seemed to have twisted their ankle somehow. I’ll need to make them some ointment for that… I thought. They must be in pain. I’ll have to ask them if I can use some of the medicinal herbs from the garden for that. Seeing y/n so close to him makes me feel a strange type of unease in my fëa. Something has woken inside me. I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
I should be happy that Moryo caught them on time……right…?
#silmarillion#the silm#moryo#caranthir#amrod#amrod x reader#caranthir x reader#XIX-THESUN#sons of feanor#feanorians#elves#tolkien#curvo#gender neutral reader#curufin
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could i request something fluffy with tommi/aleksi? the picture of aleksi on tommi's lap has been living in my head rent free for the past few days, they're so cute
of course 😌😌 it's not inspired by that picture but it's still soft and fluffy 🥰🥰
When Tommi wakes up there's only subtle light coming through the window and shining through the blinds. It must be early. Aleksi next to him is still asleep, wrapped in the sheets up to his chin to shield himself from the crisp night air now that it's fall. Tommi can barely make out his features in the soft light: he's relaxed, breathing quietly through parted lips, his gentle face and soft edges almost, almost making him look naive and innocent.
(He's everything but. Tommi knows oh so well.)
If he still had had long hair, Tommi would've brushed it off his face. Sadly, he has no excuse to touch his visage now, so he just sighs and gets up.
Seeing Aleksi so beautiful and peaceful made Tommi soft, and it's their day off anyway, so Tommi decides to indulge his feelings. He's not a man of many words, much less a man of grand gestures; for him it's in the little things, in the meaningful moments. Tommi doesn't miss the way Aleksi smiles and blushes when he brings him coffee when he's been in their home studio for hours. Nor does he miss how his face lights up when Tommi lets him play his precious drum kit in said studio to his heart's content. Sometimes Aleksi even asks him to teach him some cool tricks with the drums, and Tommi is sure Aleksi already knows everything he tries to show him, but the way he smiles happily when Tommi tells him he did a good job afterwards… it just never fails to swell his heart.
Through the kitchen window, the trees are starting to lose their leaves, the landscape mostly brown against a pastel purple sky. It's silent except for maybe some wind. Tommi feels particularly alive.
He enjoys the moment for a few seconds then gets to work. Pancakes. That's what he wanted to make. He vaguely remembers the recipe and the procedure but hasn't made them in a hot minute, and his phone is in the bedroom (no way he'll go back there and risk waking Aleksi up), so all he can do is hope for the best.
The first one he makes is rather fucked up. Shapeless and slightly burnt. He lets out an annoyed grunt, stern eyes fixed on the offending sorry excuse of a pancake. When he takes a bite, he ascertains he didn't mess up the ingredients at least, which is great news. He keeps on going. The second pancake isn't much better looking than the first, but at least it's the yellow-light brown color a pancake is supposed to be. Progress.
He loves Aleksi, he really does. Because otherwise why would he be preparing breakfast for him at the break of dawn, reminding himself about just how clueless he is in the kitchen, losing his mind over one of the easiest things to bake, uttering fuck every once in a while out of frustration?
After a few more tries, the pancakes actually start to look decent (though they're still all different sizes. Alas, Tommi is sure this is the best he can do). He starts piling them up on a plate, finally at peace again, the sky outside now baby blue.
He feels two arms around his sides and two hands snaking from behind until they're resting on his stomach. Aleksi's body, so small yet so warm, is pressed against his back and Tommi's eyelashes flutter closed. He opens his eyes again, back to his senses, when the dough starts making weird sizzling noises in the pan. Tommi is quick to tend to it again.
"This smells delicious," Aleksi says, voice still rough with sleep. He holds on to Tommi's middle for a moment longer, leaving a kiss between his shoulder blades when he pulls away. "Can I help?"
"Lay the table, please?"
Tommi doesn't turn around, too focused on the pancakes (but he's mostly done!). Still, he can hear Aleksi moving around the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets and drawers, and thinks it's what makes this house his home.
#answered#my writing#blind channel fanfic#blind channel fanfiction#rpf#aleksi kaunisvesi x tommi lalli
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BIRTHDAYS!!! july is the best birthday month and everyone has to agree otherwise we’ll cry because we are Cancers. i’m requesting a super fluffy fluff fluff combo of #1 from list one and #1 & #7 from list two, ideally in a post-divorce pre-foyet era because that when emily has the best hair imo.
happy bday, almost birthday twin 💝🎂🥳
RIGHT BACK AT YOU, LOVE.
So, this kind of accidentally became chapter 2 of Maximum Gain, and I'm not sorry about it.
The prompts are:
“I thought you left” “Nope, just making pancakes”/“You look really good in my clothes”/“I could just stare at you forever” “Creep”
@sneetchestoo also requested the first one, and it is actually her birthday today!! So happy birthday, Bee :)
To send me a prompt, find the info here!
(Also, this makes me total word count on ao3 over 750k words…)
-x-
Maximum Gain - Chapter 2
Words: 1.6k
Warnings: None. Hella fluffy as requested!
Read over on AO3, or below the cut
Aaron wakes up alone, something unusual these days, the other side of the bed usually occupied by his sleeping girlfriend.
They’d been close to inseparable since Colorado, echoes of her cries of pain reverberating around his head when she wasn’t within his line of sight, panic clawing up his throat that she was in danger. She struggled with nightmares, memories of the beating she had taken haunting her in the middle of the night, Aaron’s calming presence, his soft touch, the only thing that could rid her of the ghost of Cyrus’s fists.
In the almost two months that had passed they’d stopped pretending they didn’t share a room on cases, made easier now that the team knew about them. Their fierce embrace outside of the compound giving away whatever hopes they had left of keeping their relationship a secret.
Aaron was grateful that they’d waited until most of Emily’s injuries had healed before they started teasing them, her brusies fading away completely within the first few weeks. He’d still find himself staring at cut on her arm, the scar still red and raised, guilt simmering under his skin. Her ribs still hurt her occasionally, her hand pressed into her side if she moved too quickly or in a certain direction, her pain subtle to everyone except him.
He stretches as he gets out of bed, seeking Emily out. It was rare she got out of bed before him, but it was especially rare on a weekend. Two days just the two of them stretched out in front of them, and a tiny, irrational, part of him wonders if he’ll walk out to find a note from her saying she had to pop home, that she’d let him carry on sleeping.
She was always telling him that he needs to relax more.
He walks into his kitchen, smiling at the sight of Emily at the kitchen counter, a bowl in front of her with the ingredients for pancakes spread out, a cookbook he’d forgotten he owned in her hands.
"Good morning," he says quietly, not wanting to startle her. She looks up at him, clearly already having heard him enter the room, a wide smile on her face. He walks over and briefly wraps his arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her temple as he walks past her to put the coffee machine on. “I thought you left.”
"Nope, just making pancakes," she replies, setting the book down as she pours the milk into the pancake batter, stirring it a little too enthusiastically making it splatter all over her pyjamas. Her old Yale t-shirt and sleep shorts get covered as she shrieks. She glares at him when he chuckles, sighing as she puts the spoon down, “or at least, I’m trying to make pancakes.”
He stands next to her, wiping a bit of batter off of her cheek with his thumb before he kisses her, stamping another in quick succession against her lips.
“It’s in your hair.” He says, smirking at her. “Go get changed,” he whispers, kissing her again, “I’ll get breakfast started.”
She smiles at him and nods, “Ok.”
“Put your stuff in the hamper, I need to do some laundry anyway,” He says as she walks away and she hums in agreement. He loved the domesticity of days like this, that they did each other's laundry, that the number of belongings they had at each other's apartments kept on growing.
He licks the pancake batter off his thumb and grimaces at the taste. He looks down at the bowl and wonders what on earth she could have put in there to make it taste so off, especially since she’d clearly been attempting to follow instructions. He throws the batter away, washes the bowl and starts again, already partway through cooking them when she re-emerges from his bedroom. Her hair is wet, curling at the ends, and she’s wearing one of his button-down shirts and a pair of his socks.
“Oh they smell good,” she says as she reaches him, leaning against his back as she wraps her arms around his waist.
“I added chocolate chips just for you.”
She groans, “You’re the best.” She presses a kiss to his shoulder before she moves away from him, reaching for plates from the cabinet, another moment that showed just how comfortable she was in his home making his heart seize in his chest. She turns around and catches him staring at her, and she raises an amused brow at him. “What?”
“You look really good in my clothes.” He says, watching as her skin flushes at his compliment, her alabaster skin tinged pink.
She smiles at him, handing him the plates so he could serve their breakfast. “Stop being a sap and feed me.”
“Yes, sweetheart.”
___
She’s so happy that the pancakes taste good, a proud smile she doesn’t even try to hide as she tells him she’s never made them before, that he can’t bring himself to tell her he remade the batter. Nothing but affection and what he knew was love for her spreading through his veins, the words he had pushed down for weeks threatening to break free.
They settle together on the couch after they’ve eaten, the tv on for nothing but background noise, the pair of them happy just be with each other. Emily eventually shifts so she isn’t sitting next to him anymore, and settles so her head is in his lap. He smiles down at her, one of his hands playing with her hair as the other falls to her bare thigh, her skin soft beneath his palm.
“You keep looking at me like that.” She says, her eyes meeting his, her bottom lip in between her teeth.
“Like what?” He asks, his hand still moving through her hair.
“Like you could stare at me forever.”
He smiles at her, his knuckles running down her cheeks. “I could just stare at you forever”
“Creep.” She replies, a fond smile on her face counteracting the false disgust she’d injected into her voice. She grabs his hand on her cheek and links their fingers, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.
Suddenly, all the reasons he’d had for not telling her exactly how he felt. Any concern that it was too fast, that she might not feel the same way melts away, and he needs her to know as soon as possible..
“I was thinking,” he starts, choosing his words carefully, “when I have Jack next weekend you should come over for dinner. I think it’s time for you to meet.”
It was the only time they were apart these days, when he spent time with his son. He wanted to ensure he handled it correctly, that the introduction wasn’t done too quickly for anyone involved. He’d mentioned it to Haley the last time he saw her, a tentative question that she answered positively. Their relationship was better than it had been in years, and she was genuinely happy for him, pleased that he had found someone who understood him better than she ever had.
Emily looks at him like he’s lost his mind, an amused smile on her face as she squeezes his hand in hers.
“I’ve already met him, honey.”
He smiles at the memory. Haley had brought a still very small Jack into the office shortly after Emily had started, the baby boy enamoured with her almost immediately, her knack with children clear from the start.
“I know,” he replies, taking in a steady breath as he carries on, “but I want him to meet you as the woman I love.”
She sits up suddenly, wincing as she does. Her hand flies to her side where her worst bruising had been weeks ago.
“Shit, sweetheart are you-”
She bats his hands away as they cover hers over her ribs, her eyes wide as she looks at him.
“What did you just say?” She asks, her voice shaky, a sheen to her eyes he knows she’d deny.
Aaron doesn’t try to cover his smile, his cheeks aching with it. “I love you, Emily.”
It takes a second, one of the longest of his life, but a smile spreads over her face too, a small laugh escaping her as she cups his face, her thumbs pressing into his dimples.
“I love you too.” She replies, almost in a whisper, before she leans forward to press her lips to his, pushing everything she felt for him into it, her arms curling around his neck as she settles into his lap. She pulls back and rests her forehead against his. “I love you,” she repeats, another kiss lost to their smiles, “so fucking much.”
He bands his arms around her a little tighter, and she curls into his embrace. Almost as if she was trying to crawl under his skin, take her place next to his heart, the place that could only ever be for her.
He isn’t sure how much time has passed when she talks, her words muffled against his t shirt.
“Whilst we’re making confessions,” she says, pulling back to look at him, her fingers playing with the hair at the base of his neck, “can I tell you something?”
“Anything, Em,” he replies, pressing his lips to her forehead, “you know that.”
She beams at him, and he doesn’t think she’s ever looked so beautiful. Wearing just his shirt, her hair frizzing from where it had dried naturally, curled up in his lap like she was meant to be there, like they’d been made for each other.
“I know you switched out the pancake batter.”
-x-
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#hotchniss#hotchniss fanfiction#hotchniss fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotchniss fan fic#emily prentiss fanfiction#aaron hotchner#emily prentiss#fluff
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My brain decided to go off on a weird tangent which led to this: my personal headcanons for all of the hermits cooking skills! I’m gonna put it under the cut so it doesn’t get too long. Hope you enjoy, and feel free to add your own ideas!
Bdubs: Is a surprisingly good cook! Just maybe don’t joke with him while he’s working, his wild gestures will get food everywhere.
Cub: In the past he’s been experimenting on the sly with coffee making, and he's finally revealed his skills in season nine. Probably one of the best drinks maker, and a decent enough chef as well.
Doc: He’s... not great? He’ll try to create super-heated instant cooking machines and while he's had some success, he has yet to get the flavor on par with the impressive machinery.
Etho: This man buys all of his food. He can do some cooking, but restaurants are another form of shopping and you know he loves shopping.
False: She’s alright. Not amazing, but not really bad either.
Scar: He’s always been great at making food look good. All of his meals are beautiful, but maybe not the best to eat? Though he’s been improving his flavors a lot since he started the cookie empire.
Grian: If he wants to, he can make a pretty nice meal, though he’s much more likely to break the oven just for the heck of it and make a simple sandwich instead.
Gem: While she isn’t a strict vegetarian, she definitely is one of the best and most creative creators of meatless dishes.
Hypno: Doesn’t usually make his own food, but he’s got an incredible bread recipe that no one has managed to replicate quite right.
Jevin: Slime and ovens don’t really get along, but he’s gotten pretty good at dishes that don’t require heating.
Impulse: Pretty good cook overall! He probably served as the main chef for boatem when they were tired of potatoes. Only issue is that he sometimes forgets that most people can’t digest crystals properly.
Iskall: Pretty alright cook, but he usually prefers instant or pre-heated stuff.
Joe Hills: He can and will cook any meal you tell him about. He won’t guarantee it’ll be great, but you’ll never know if you don’t try.
Keralis: He loves cooking. He’s not the best at it, but he always has a good time. The saying “too many cooks in the kitchen” never applies to him.
Mumbo: Do not trust this man with your stove.
Pearl: When she isn’t experimenting with weird ingredients, she’s pretty good! Though he has gotten kinda wild with new kinds of soup lately.
Ren: Honestly he’s a rather amazing chef! The only issue is that he might get a bit of his dog hair in the food, but otherwise his bakes are an easy 10/10.
Stress: Probably the primary baker on the server. Cupcakes, muffins, pies, if you can name it, she can bake it and it’ll be lovely.
Tango: He’s a nightmare in the kitchen, something always gets set on fire. Somehow, though, all the food he makes ends up looking and tasting pretty good. Doesn’t clean up very well.
TFC: Has the best tea, no one can compare. Otherwise he's pretty alright.
Beef: Makes amazing meat dishes and pastries, just doesn’t cook them very often. It’s a treat when he does though.
Wels: Knows a lot of medieval dishes and has an absolutely killer meat pie recipe. He’s been trying to figure out deep frying techniques, and while it’s been slow going, he’s making some progress.
xB: Doesn’t usually cook for himself, but he is one of the main people keeping Keralis from making a complete mess of the kitchen.
Xisuma: Do you think this man can cook? He can, actually. He isn’t that confident in his skills though, so he mostly just cooks for himself when he doesn’t want to go out.
Zedaph: If the definition of cooking is putting ingredients together and mixing them over heat, then he can cook technically! Though there is about an 80% chance that it’ll taste very strange.
Cleo: She’s a fantastic cook, makes a lot of her own food. Though, if you don’t share her undead diet, you probably don’t want to eat any of it.
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Time, Space, and Sweets: Chapter 1
Silver the Hedgehog and Blaze the Cat bake a surprise cake for Shadow the Hedgehog after he did a nice deed for Silver.
Note: In this fic, everyone's a year older (Silver and Blaze are 15, Shadow's physically and mentally 16, etc)
I made Silver a cinnamon roll but it makes sense in this fic for him to be a cinnamon roll.
~~~~~
Silver's apartment's living room, late morning:
A bright, fiery pillar appeared right in front of Silver. He flinched, thinking it would hurt him. Luckily, the fire didn't hurt, and only dusted him with soot.
From the fire stepped Blaze. The pillar of fire extinguished itself as she stepped out. Blaze looked at Silver and giggled. "Good thing those flames are harmless. You look like you just cleaned three chimneys!"
"Cough! ...Haha, I really do, don't I?" He dusted himself off and hugged Blaze.
Blaze wiped the rest of the soot off of his face. "Not anymore. C'mere, you!" She smiled and ruffled the quills on his forehead with her left hand. They weren't as sharp as they could be, since he knew she was just doing a bit of friendly teasing.
"Hey! Cut that out!" Silver laughed and pushed her hand away. He took her to his kitchen and explained his plan. "We're gonna make the best surprise cake for Shadow! It'll have hot sauce and coffee beans. He'll love it!"
"You know that hedgehog like a book, huh?" Blaze chuckled.
"Yep. And I want to do something nice for him since he helped me move into this apartment." He floated around excitedly.
Silver got the mixing bowls, baking utensils, cake pans, and ingredients out of his cupboards and refrigerator. He excitedly showed Blaze the food coloring he bought for the occasion.
"We're gonna dye the cakes black and red for him! Anyways, I got this recipe. We're going to make four cakes so we can–" He started to speak, but Blaze interrupted him.
"Do we have enough ingredients for four cakes?" She asked.
"Yeah, I– Oh..." Silver realized he was low on flour. He left the butter sticks out, but put the milk and eggs back into the fridge. "...I'll go to the store... Wanna come with me?"
"Sure." Blaze said.
"Should we walk or– Gyah!" Silver yelped as Blaze grabbed his hand. The two of them burst into flames and disappeared.
~~~~~
Grocery store, early afternoon:
A tall, fiery pillar appeared in the parking lot of the grocery store. People gathered around the fire pillar as it extinguished. The flames revealed Blaze and Silver. The latter of the two was covered from head to toe in soot.
"Cough! Cough! ...A warning would be nice next time so I don't inhale smoke..." Silver dusted himself off and groaned.
"Sorry! You're otherwise unharmed, right?" Blaze asked.
"Yeah. I'm honestly surprised those flames don't hurt." The hedgehog coughed up another puff of smoke, then smiled sheepishly.
"Years of practice, Silv. Years of practice."
Silver and Blaze walked into the Supermart and went to the aisle with the baking supplies.
"Okay, so we're gonna need a lot of flour to make all those cakes for Shadow." Silver muttered to himself.
"What was that?" A deep voice asked. Silver recognized the voice as Shadow's. Silver yelped and turned to the older hedgehog.
"N-nothing! Y-your future self just told me to say hi!" He stammered.
"Hmph. If you say so."
"Ahahaha... I do say so" Silver chuckled nervously. Blaze facepalmed and sighed.
"I'd love to stay and chat, but we really must be going." She interjected. She grabbed a few bags of flour and went to the front to check out.
The cashier, an orange lion, rang up the total and Blaze thanked them. Silver carried the bags with his psychokinesis and the two walked out of the store.
"Oh! Let's go to the flower shop!" Silver suggested. He beamed with delight.
"We have a mission, Silver. We can't just keep shopping." Blaze rejected.
"Blaze, I grew up in a fiery hellscape barren of plants. Can I please get another seed packet?" Silver pleaded. He made a really cute sad face and shed a single tear.
The cat sighed and shook her head. "That's not going to work on me."
"Dammit!" Silver exclaimed. He thought for a bit before a lightbulb went off in his head. "Maybe Shadow wants some flowers. It can't hurt to look."
"You really think he of all people would like flowers?" Blaze questioned.
"He's softer than he appears." Silver explained. "Besides, Amy and her mom work there and I think it would be nice to visit them."
"I guess you're right. Let's walk this time. I don't want to burn the plants on accident." Blaze chuckled as the two teenagers walked to the flower store.
#i listened to dreams of an absolution while writing this :)#toxic electricity#sonic fluff#cute interactions#time space and sweets#silver the hedgehog#blaze the cat#shadow the hedgehog
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