#romantic hideaway

[cottagelvx]

Tucked away in a secret corner of the forest, this enchanting stone cottage looks like it was plucked straight from the pages of a fairytale. With ivy trailing up the weathered walls and sunlight dancing on the tiled roof, this charming retreat invites you to unwind and enjoy a tranquil moment in the quaint courtyard. The rustic wooden table, set for outdoor dining, is perfect for an afternoon tea or an intimate dinner surrounded by nature. Every detail, from the arched doorways to the flower-filled window boxes, whispers of timeless European charm, offering a peaceful escape into a storybook world where life moves at a slower, more magical pace.

[goodnightnobodyspecial]

Oregon. 35mm. Romantic lovely sunny beautiful divine blessed. Mud in my toes. Cold currents. Boy family.

@gabriellenarcisse

[allthedesiredusernamesaretaken]

... table for two ...

[random-senpai]

Dynasty Warriors Origins better let me have my nameless warrior be a cute girl because the BEST part of the mess that was Dynasty Warriors 9 was playing as a female officer and using the Hideaway to turn the game into a bootleg otome game with a buffet of hot dudes.

[kaustubh-wankhede]

Embark on an enchanting journey with our curated list of the Top Romantic Beach Resorts in Sri Lanka. Indulge in idyllic sunsets, pristine shores, and unparalleled luxury. Each resort offers a unique blend of romance and relaxation, from secluded hideaways to opulent retreats. Immerse yourself in the soothing waves, savour delectable cuisine, and create lasting memories with your loved one. Explore the magic of Sri Lanka's coastal paradise, where love meets the gentle caress of the ocean.

[sunniepoo]

I NEED more of the obx/reader love islane PLEEK 😭😭😭 jj next pls pls pls

love island!jj

jj is an og boy through and through, i have no clue why but something about him screams being in the original line up. the public love him from the moment he comes on, from his looks to his personality he already becomes a bit of a fan favourite

i feel like you would also be in the original line up however you wouldn’t be coupled together, i think it’d be a situation where the public chooses who should go together and honestly he’s gutted. his eyeballs nearly popped out when he saw you and in his head he’s praying that the public chose you to be with him but to his dismay it was not the case

but that doesn’t stop either of you, it was easy to fall for him with his jokey, playful manor but still that masculine presence that follows him - i think the moment where the two of you’d click is when your playing a game around the fire pit and you mention something about the ocean or surfing and it just clicks for him that he needs to get you in his bed as soon as possible

i think it’s only a matter of time before he’s pulling you for chats and slowly flirting his way into your heart, during one of the first recouplings he picks you and honestly that’s only the beginning for the two of you, it’s really sweet and romantic from there on and you become a public favourite quite quickly (sort of like lana and ron s9)

the main major stump between the two of you is when bombshells come in and neither of you have communicated well about that situation so when you see him cracking on with another girl that’s not you, it genuinely shatters your heart into a million

i feel like we see this in obx and i can see it translate into this very well is jj’s fear of intimacy and closeness, for him he could care less about the bombshell but it’s the idea that you and him have been getting so close it’s causing him to freak out and that’s how he finds himself flirting with someone’s name he can barely remember

and before he can even explain himself or even talk to you, everyone’s gathering around the fire pit and he’s being chosen leaving you single - he couldn’t hate himself more in that moment because the idea of you going home genuinely makes him want to leave with you but production comes through and you’re being sent on a date ( really pulling a mimii on this one s11)

following that it’s just a bit of back and forth of arguing and getting back at each other before he sits you down and just breaks, he starts pouring his heart out and you start to realise that whatever anger you have is not worth it

not to say it doesn’t cause a stump in your relationship but your connection with him is stronger than the anger you have. truly once you guys get over that it’s so so sweet and heartwarming

you’d 100% be the very loud, active couple like everyone else is complaining at how your going at it and he genuinely has no shame and doesn’t care - he’s eating you out under those covers with no shame

you guys going to the hideaway would go so viral just cause of how fucked out you look after (lowk like in love island usa when kenny and jaNa came out) hair is a mess and everyone is making memes about how he gives it good

casa amour is such a realisation for him at how much he needs you to keep his mood up because for the first time he is just so out of it and it’s solely because he misses you - the casa recoupling is so cute because you literally run to him and he’s looking at you so in love

like i said casa is such a realisation for him that it doesn’t take long for him to make you his girlfriend and drop the l bomb and if people though you were loud before, god were they not prepared

people have been rooting for you since like day one, when they saw his face when you’d strutted in so it was a very clear and obvious win, and all hell breaks loose when you announce your first kid a couple years later and all you can think is how this started from a silly show you went on for fun

[faithshouseofchaos]

Blanket fort — Lando Norris x reader

Fluff

Word count

Tagging - @astraeaworld @ashy-kit @alwayzbeenale @67-angelofthelordme-67 @amatswimming @a-casual-romantic @bblouifford @badassturtle13 @bbtoni i @barcelonaloverf1life e @charlesf1leclerc @charlesgirl16 @crashingwavesofeuphoria @dreamyreveriie @clowngirlsstuff @dark-night-sky-99 @dudenhaaa27 @eugene-emt-roe @embrosegraves @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @llando4norris @hangmandruigandmav @hollie911 @jeffs77 @ironcowboycopnickel @lipringlrh @lightdragonrayne @lollypop90907 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @moss-on-tmblr @natailiatulls07 @omgsuperstarg g @oconswrld @otako5811 @purplephantomwolf @scotlynaurora @toasttt11 1 @uluvjay @vellicora @venusisnothere @anedpev @thenerdysimp

Lando opened the door to his apartment, letting out a tired sigh as he set down his keys. He was expecting a quiet evening with Y/N after a long day, but as he glanced around, he immediately noticed something unusual.

The lights were dimmed, casting a warm glow throughout the room, and in the middle of the living room was a makeshift fort—complete with blankets draped over chairs and pillows piled inside. Twinkling fairy lights were woven into the blankets, making it look like a cozy, magical hideaway. A projector was set up in front of the fort, aimed at the blank wall where an old favorite movie of his was paused, ready to start.

Y/N popped her head out of the fort, grinning at his surprised expression. “Happy Birthday, Lando!” she called, waving him over.

A smile spread across his face as he took it all in. “No way… Did you build this?”

“Yep!” She looked a little too proud of herself as she scooted back, patting the space beside her. “I figured you could use a night to relax, so I brought back the ultimate childhood comfort: blanket fort, movies, and snacks.”

Lando laughed, kicking off his shoes and crawling into the fort beside her. “I haven’t done this since I was a kid. This is amazing!”

Y/N leaned forward, handing him a bowl of popcorn. “Thought you might like it. I even brought all your favorites: popcorn, brownies, gummy bears, and….” She reached over, pulling out a bottle of soda, “the super sugary stuff you pretend not to drink anymore.”

Lando grinned, taking the soda from her. “You know me too well.”

They settled in, blankets piled high around them as the movie started playing. Y/N kept glancing at Lando out of the corner of her eye, watching as he got lost in the movie, his face lighting up with every funny or nostalgic moment.

At one point, he caught her watching him and nudged her with his elbow. “You’re staring,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes, chuckling. “Can you blame me? You look like a little kid right now.”

“Well, I have you to thank for that,” he said, leaning in to plant a kiss on her cheek. “Best birthday ever, by the way.”

As the night went on, they stayed curled up in the fort, sharing stories about their childhoods. Lando recounted wild tales of go-kart races gone wrong, and Y/N told him about her misadventures building forts with her siblings.

Lando looked at her, smiling softly. “You really went all out with this, didn’t you?”

She shrugged, a little bashfully. “I just wanted to make you happy.”

“You did.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “And I mean it—you seriously outdid yourself. I didn’t even know you could make a fort this sturdy.”

“Oh, please. This is an engineering marvel,” she joked, feigning pride. “We could probably live in here if we wanted to.”

He chuckled, resting his head against hers. “Well, let’s at least stay here a bit longer.”

They settled back into a comfortable silence, watching the movie as the twinkling lights cast a warm glow around them. By the time the credits rolled, Y/N had dozed off, her head resting on Lando’s shoulder. He looked down at her, feeling a warmth he couldn’t quite put into words.

Not wanting to wake her, he stayed put, perfectly content, thinking that if he could freeze time, this would be the moment he’d choose to stay in forever. With a soft smile, he whispered, “Thanks for making today special.”

Y/N stirred, smiling sleepily up at him. “Anything for you, birthday boy.”

[luxeacademia]

Brindleton Bay Taylors Version Pt. 01: Wildest Dreams Jewelry & Style Clothing Boutique by luxeacademia

So I am a big Swiftie and recently had this idea of making Brindleton Bay builds inspired by 1989 TV. Here is the first build. I have a few more planned and I am super excited about it! I also chose to photograph this build during the winter because it gave "snow on the beach' vibes. Hope you like it! -

Presenting "Wildest Dreams" and "Style" – where retail therapy meets Hamptons charm.

"Wildest Dreams" Jewelry: Discover an array of sparkling gems and accessories that will make your Sims' wildest dreams come true. From delicate necklaces to shimmering rings, this boutique is a haven for those who appreciate the finer things.

"Style" Clothing: Dive into the world of fashion at "Style," where coastal Hamptons aesthetics blend seamlessly with Taylor's 1989 era. Explore racks of chic outfits and timeless ensembles that exude sophistication and style.

Come explore our retail paradise, where Sims can indulge in shopping sprees that capture the essence of coastal luxury.

Lot Details:

Name: Wildest Dreams & Style Boutique

Value: 1,275,717

Type: Retail

Size: 20x20

World: Brindleton Bay

Location: Ragdoll Refurb

Other Info:

Thank you to all CC creators!

Enable BB.MoveObjects before placing

Please do not reupload or claim as your own

Feel free to tag me if you use it. I would love to see it!

CC list:

@pixelglam: Coastal Art | Ralph Lauren Folded Sweaters

@pinkbox-anye: Coffeeshop | Magorna | Senna | Sophie

@awingedllama: Nostalgia Living

@bbygyal123: Minimal Prints

@bergdorfverse Bags: 1- 2- 3- 4- 5 - 6

@charlypancakes: Lavish

@felixandresims: Chateau Part I. | Chateau Part. VI. | Colonial Part III. | Georgian | Grove Part II. | Paris Part I. | Paris Part II. | Paris Part III.

House of Harlix: Baysic | Orjanic Part II.

@harrie-cc: Coastal Part I. | Coastal Part II. | Coastal Part III. | Coastal Part IV. | Coastal Part VII. | Coastal Part VIII. | Spoons Part I. | Spoons Part II.

@joyceisfox: Hamptons Bar Counter | Simple Live Part II. | Summer Garden Part II.

@lilaccreative : LC Jewelers

@littledica: Letters

Max20: Poolside Lounge Pack

@peacemaker-icemaker: Seema Living | Adirondack Love Part I. | Elsie | Moroccan Cement Tiles | Hamptons Getaway | Hamptons Hideaway | Painted Brick | Splendid Narrow Paneling

@pierisimm : Davids Apartment The Bedroom | Domaine du Clos Part II. | Domaine du Clos Part III. | MCM Part I. | MCM Part II. | Oak House Part I. | The Office | Woodland Part I.

platinumluxesimsx :Dior Wicker Basket Bag | P-Luxe Stiletto Court Shoe

PralineSims: Concrete Floor

Ravasheen: Watt's Not To Love

Sims4Luxury: The Hamptons Collection

Simplistic: RH sink | RH Barstool | Luxe Dining Chair

@somik-severinkaSeverinka : Functional Champagne | Drink Tray

@sooky88: Hydrangea

@syboubou:  Sleek | Shopping | Rideaux | Paradis | Laundry | Hortensia

Ruby Red: Romantic Gazebo | Glam Bathroom

Gallery ID: luxeacademia Download on my Patreon here.

Enjoy ♡

[stxrbxrn]

claws and kisses …

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader tw: none, just fluffy word count: 1.5k ( give or take ) a/n: i have watched and rewatched deadpool & wolverine like 4 times. i love my boys ( but mostly logan )

you sighed contentedly as you nestled deeper into logan's warm embrace. the two of you were lounging on the worn leather couch in his cabin, a crackling fire casting a cozy glow over the rustic living room. outside, a gentle snow was falling, blanketing the wilderness surrounding the remote hideaway in pristine white.

it had been logan's idea to get away for the weekend, to escape the chaos of the x-mansion and have some uninterrupted time together. you'd jumped at the chance for a romantic getaway with the gruff but lovable mutant who had stolen your heart.

logan's strong arms were wrapped securely around you as you leaned back against his broad chest. one of his hands was lazily tracing patterns on your arm while the other cradled a bottle of beer. you held a steaming mug of hot cocoa, savoring the rich chocolatey aroma.

"this is nice," you murmured, tilting your head back to look up at logan. his rugged features were softened in the firelight, a rare contentment evident in his warm hazel eyes.

"mmm," he agreed, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "should've done this sooner."

you nodded in agreement, thinking back on how long it had taken the two of you to admit your feelings for each other. logan had been reluctant to pursue a relationship at first, worried about the dangers that came with his lifestyle. but you'd worn down his defenses, showing him that you could handle yourself and that the connection between you was worth taking a chance on.

a sudden gust of wind rattled the cabin windows, making you shiver slightly despite the cozy warmth inside. logan's arms tightened around you protectively.

"cold, darlin'?" he asked, a note of concern in his gruff voice.

you shook your head. "no, i'm perfect right here."

logan's chest rumbled with a low chuckle. he set his beer bottle down on the side table and brought his now-free hand up to gently stroke your hair. the tender gesture made your heart swell with affection.

you closed your eyes, relishing the feeling of logan's fingers running through your locks. he was always so careful with you, tempering his incredible strength to show a gentleness that few got to witness.

a stray strand of hair fell across your face, tickling your nose. before you could brush it away, logan's hand was there, calloused fingertips delicately sweeping the errant strands back.

you blinked your eyes open, gazing up at him with a soft smile. "my hero," you teased lightly.

logan rolled his eyes good-naturedly, but you caught the pleased glint in them. "can't have anything obstructing that pretty face of yours," he rumbled.

a warm blush spread across your cheeks at the compliment. even after months together, logan still had the ability to make you feel giddy with just a few gruff words of affection.

you set your cocoa mug down and shifted in logan's arms, turning to face him. reaching up, you traced the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the scratch of stubble beneath your fingertips. logan's eyes fluttered closed at your touch, a contented sigh escaping him.

"i love seeing you like this," you murmured. "so relaxed, guard down."

logan's eyes opened, meeting your gaze with an intensity that made your breath catch. "only with you, darlin'," he said softly.

your heart swelled at his words. you knew how rare it was for the battle-hardened wolverine to let anyone past his gruff exterior. the fact that he trusted you enough to be vulnerable meant everything.

unable to resist any longer, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his in a tender kiss. logan responded immediately, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he deepened the kiss. you melted into him, reveling in the feeling of safety and belonging you always felt in his arms.

when you finally parted for air, logan rested his forehead against yours. "what did i do to deserve you?" he murmured, voice husky with emotion.

you smiled, running your fingers through his wild hair. "you're you," you said simply. "that's more than enough."

logan's arms tightened around you, pulling you more firmly against his broad chest. you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, breathing in his masculine scent of leather, pine, and bourbon

for a long while, the two of you simply held each other, basking in the intimacy of the moment. the crackling of the fire and the soft whisper of snow against the windows were the only sounds breaking the peaceful quiet.

eventually, logan shifted slightly, prompting you to lift your head and meet his gaze questioningly.

"your hair's a mess," he said with a fond smirk, reaching up to smooth down your tousled locks.

you laughed softly. "i wonder whose fault that is?"

logan's smirk widened as he continued to run his fingers through your hair, gently working out any tangles. his touch was so tender, such a contrast to the deadly weapons normally concealed beneath his skin.

you hummed in contentment, practically purring under his ministrations. logan chuckled lowly.

"if i'd known playing with your hair would make you this happy, i'd have done it much sooner," he teased.

you opened your eyes, not having realized you'd closed them. "mmm, well now you know for next time," you said with a cheeky grin.

logan's expression softened, his hazel eyes warm with affection. "there's gonna be a lot of next times, darlin'," he said.

your breath caught at the implications of his words. logan wasn't one for flowery declarations or grand gestures, but in his own way, he was promising you a future together.

"i like the sound of that," you whispered, voice thick with emotion.

logan's hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. you leaned into his touch, overcome with love for this complex, incredible man.

a myriad of emotions flickered across logan's face - vulnerability, hope, and a fierce protectiveness that made your heart race. then he was pulling you close, claiming your lips in a kiss that left you breathless.

when you parted, logan rested his forehead against yours once more. "i love you," he whispered roughly. "more than i ever thought possible."

tears of joy pricked at your eyes. logan didn't say those words often, making them all the more precious when he did.

"i love you too," you replied, pouring all of your emotion into those four simple words. "so much."

logan's answering smile was radiant, chasing away the last lingering shadows in his eyes. in that moment, you knew without a doubt that no matter what challenges lay ahead, the two of you would face them together.

as if to seal that unspoken promise, logan leaned in for another kiss. this one was slower, deeper, filled with all the words left unsaid between you. you wound your arms around his neck, pressing yourself as close to him as possible.

a sudden gust of wind caused the fire to flare, sending shadows dancing across the walls of the cabin. but wrapped in each other's arms, lost in the taste and feel of one another, you and logan were oblivious to anything beyond your own little world.

when you finally came up for air, you were both breathing heavily. logan's pupils were dilated, a look of hunger in his eyes that sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine. but there was tenderness there too, a depth of emotion that never failed to take your breath away.

"what do you say we take this somewhere more comfortable?" logan growled, voice low and husky.

you bit your lip, pretending to consider. "i don't know... i'm pretty comfy right here," you teased.

logan's eyes narrowed playfully. "that so?"

before you could react, he was standing, scooping you up into his arms as if you weighed nothing. you let out a surprised squeal, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"logan!" you laughed as he carried you towards the bedroom.

he smirked down at you, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "still comfy?"

you nodded, nestling closer to his broad chest. "always, when i'm with you."

logan's expression softened at your words. he paused in the doorway of the bedroom, gazing down at you with such love and tenderness that it made your heart ache.

"i'm the luckiest man alive," he murmured, pushing a few stray strands of hair out of your face.

you leaned up to press a soft kiss to his lips. "we're both lucky," you whispered against his mouth.

logan smiled - a real, genuine smile that lit up his entire face. then he was carrying you into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind you.

as logan laid you gently on the bed, gazing down at you with a mixture of hunger and adoration, you sent up a silent prayer of thanks. for the moment, this man, this love that you'd found against all odds.

whatever the future held, you knew that as long as you had logan by your side, you could face anything.

[raylamars]

Two vacation villas in Selvadorada 🌴

Honeymoon Villa:

The perfect villa for a honeymoon or romantic getaway. Stunning views and a cozy atmosphere guarantee an unforgettable stay for a couple.

location: Selvadorada (”Hillview Hideaway” lot)

lot size: 20x15

lot type: Rental

1 bedroom, 2 bathrooms

price: 55 864 §

DOWNLOAD Honeymoon Villa:

| Patreon (free) | SFS |

🌴🌴🌴

2. Selvadorada Villa:

A cozy villa in the heart of Selvadorada, perfect for a large family. Located near the local market, it offers an authentic atmosphere, a pool, and all the amenities for a comfortable stay.

location: Selvadorada (”Selvadorada Villa” lot)

lot size: 30x20

lot type: Rental

4 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms

price: 147 609 §

DOWNLOAD Selvadorada Villa:

| Patreon (free) | SFS |

GalleryID: raylamars

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Drabble request for winged MC extending their wings and covering their beloved, like a hug but with wings. Maybe when theyre cuddling or something came up in public and their beloved doesn't wanna be seen, the MC just makes them disappear under their feathers lmao

The Arcana Mini-HCs: Winged!MC hugging the M6

~ since it featured all 6, I figured a mini would work better! hope you like these friend ^.^ ~

Julian: not used to hugging someone with this kind of capacity for making him feel so small and safe and started sniffling the first time you did this for him. requests it when he's overwhelmed and sad

Asra: loves that you do this because it's the opportune moment to kiss you. has started keeping soft, feathery blankets/scarves/clothes in their travel bag so they can feel you when they're stressed out

Nadia: thinks it's very romantic and delightful and loves requesting it during tiresome public events for a quick breather. she doesn't know how she used to get through them anymore, you're a lifesaver

Muriel: took a while to warm up to the idea at first because it felt a little too constricting. now he loves it as an emergency hideaway in public because people see your wings instead of him and he sees you

Portia: loves hugging you like this but will get distracted running her hands all over the soft insides of your wings. will initiate this when she's having a hard time regulating her emotions and needs a reset

Lucio: got way too excited the first time you did it and nearly bruised a wing in his enthusiasm. now he'll mush his face into all the feathers and do his best to keep his sharp gauntlet armor from poking them

[munsonluhvr]

EDDIE MUNSON’S ♡ LOVE GUIDE ♡

contents: this is a little guide/headcannon on what it’s like for our beloved eddie munson to have a crush or date someone. this is somewhat similar to the a-z sfw/nsfw lists i did a little while ago but a little more detailed and strung together. word count - 782

⟡ what it's like for eddie to have a crush ⟡

eddie is the type of guy to be boldly flirty with someone that he’s interested, having no fear to compliment you or make suggestive comments. however, when you approach him or make flirty comments to him, eddie shuts down not knowing how to respond/function.

eddie believes in chivalry still, so he wants to make the first move but he never knows how. he’ll overthink to his friends, day after day, trying to navigate how to ask you out without being weird. his friends get annoyed with him, often rolling their eyes as he talks about you for the thousandth time that day. they wish either of you would just make a move so they can stop hearing your name being mentioned by eddie.

eddie also hates when he has a crush because he can physically feel himself become obsessed, taking any opportunity to spot you across the hallways in school or stare at the back of your head or profile of your face while he sits in class. he feels himself go from being the nerd, or the freak as people refer to him, to being a lovesick puppy, ready to serve you at any moment. he also becomes flirty and nervous, blushing like crazy as you make eye contact with him or flirt. god, he has such a love hate relationship with having a crush. can’t you just be his already?

when eddie asks you out, finally, he’s flustered and jumbles his words as he speaks quickly. “would you want to go out with me sometime? like on a date?” he asks, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. his stomach is knots, full of angst, as he exposes his deep admiration for you. when you smile, nodding eagerly, he feels instant relief and his mind is quick to beginning planning how he’ll create the best date you could ever go on.

⟡ what it's like for eddie to date someone ⟡

when eddie dates someone, he is the most sweetest bf in the entire world. he’s so concerned with gf, making it obvious that he cares for you deeply. he’ll always ask if you’ve eaten or if you’re hungry. he’ll let you play your “girly pop” music as he refers to the music you listen to, even though he can’t stand it because he loves you so much.

eddie loves giving you affection; in public, he’ll hold your hand or put his arm around you, make even a little kiss on the cheek. he isn’t the biggest fan of public affection but he also likes to make it known that you’re his. in private, however, he’s awfully romantic and cheeky. he loves to make out with you, letting time pass by as you engage with each other’s mouths, his hands roaming around your body.

eddie feels so safe with you as his girlfriend, knowing he can be vulnerable and nerdy in front of you. he know’s you’ll listen to him nerd out about his d&d trials and updates on how the hellfire is dealing with the watch of vecna.

eddie also nicknames you early on in your relationship, wiping your name from his mouth. you’re “baby” or “princess” to eddie, the affectionate names rolling off his tongue with ease. occasionally, eddie says “my sweet girl,” loving how your face relaxes and a smile appears when he calls you that. he knows it’s your favorite nickname but he saves it for rainy days when you’re feeling extra low and need a pick up.

our precious eddie also likes to include you in things he likes. eddie is quick to introduce you to his hellfire club friends, making sure you are well aquatinted with them and know they’re now your friends too. eddie also introduces you to the members in his band; making it clear that he requests your presence, every week, when they perform at the hideaway. you always go, of course. the biggest deal of all, though, is that he lets you mess around on his most prized possession - his guitar.

to be the best bf possible, eddie is sure to spoil you relentlessly. he brings you things that reminds him of you, or make you little birdhouses while he’s in wood shop class. he’ll make mixtapes of songs he hears and thinks you’ll like or bring you to your favorite restaurant after school. eddie will even risk his life, aka climbing up the short trellis that’s against your house up to your window, to visit you when your parents won’t let you go out. eddie will do anything and everything - you’re his princess after all.

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 31: Cabin Fic

Crystal Clear | @envydean Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1,981 Main Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Modern AU, Anniversary, Blowjobs, lakeside cabin vacation, Dean's not a fan of lake water Summary: Dean and Cas are at the lakeside cabin for a long weekend. It's their 15th anniversary and Cas finds a cunning way to get him to swim in the lake.

Touching Perfection | @anyreiart Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,439 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Canon Universe, Smut, Friends to Lovers Vacation, Feel-good, human!Cas Summary: Dean is finally ready to make a move on Cas. So he takes him on a vacation.

Cabin In The Woods | @anyreiart Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6,894 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Canon Universe, Bottom Castiel, Top Dean Winchester, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Somnophilia, BDSM Undertones Summary: Dean takes Cas on a vacation. Confessions happen.

Cabin Fever | @eyesofatragedy67 & @punk-is-notdead Rating: Explicit Word Count: 14,519 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Jody Mills, Jo Harvelle, Ellen Harvelle, Enemies to Lovers, There Was Only One Bed, Miscommunication is the Real Villain, Angst, Smut, Fluff, Humor, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time Having Sex, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Gay Sex, Anal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex, Spit As Lube, Dirty Talk, Castiel Loves Bees, Dean Loves Dr. Sexy Summary: Following a booking mixup for a remote hideaway, two strangers agree to share. Nothing quite goes according to plan, and it looks like a misunderstanding will kill any chance of a friendship, but does "fate" have other plans?

The Impetuous Engagement | @thefandomsinhalor Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 27,207 Main Tags/Warnings: Modern Setting AU, Snowed In, Sharing a Bed, Engaged Castiel, No Cheating Summary: It’s early December and Castiel Novak, quite unlike him, is on a plane to Fairbanks, Alaska, at the other end of his world, after the man he met online, Michael Milton, proposed to him. Michael is sensitive, gallant, and romantic, and after months of daily, intense correspondence, Castiel believes he’s the only one who he ever truly connected with. On his way there, however, due to a series of bad luck and Mother Nature, Castiel somehow finds himself stuck in a small village, in the middle of nowhere, cut off from the rest of the world and with no way of reaching Michael. Indefinitely. To make matters worse, Dean Winchester, Castiel’s fellow passenger—who asks way too many invasive questions, doesn’t have an ounce of subtlety, and isn’t as charming as he thinks he is—seems to be the only option for Castiel to find shelter in the meantime. And Dean, being acquainted with the fiancé in question, and aware that he is not to be trusted, is very eager to help Castiel with housing, and perhaps something more as well…

The Places We Hide | @therighteousmanlovesanangel Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 39,827 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Crowley, Lee Webb/Dean Winchester, Past Character Death, Gunshot Wounds, Show level violence, Divorce, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Grief/Mourning, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, Human Castiel, (Supernatural)hunting au, Hermit Dean, Hurt/Comfort, Imagine there's no Heaven(ly influence), John died in this AU instead of Mary, Wendigo, Undine OFC, Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Bisexual Dean Winchester, Dean/Cas Big Bang 2022 (Supernatural) Summary: Castiel is going through it. He’s been dumped by his husband and demoted at work. A walk in the woods to clear his head makes it all horrifically worse. Luckily, he is saved by a bearded stranger. Through his recovery Castiel searches for the man in the woods. When he finds Dean, an unlikely friendship grows. As Cas comes to terms with the way his life is changing, Dean opens up a whole new world to him.

A Midwinter's Dream | @li-izumi Rating: Mature Word Count: 53,245 Main Tags/Warnings: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Season/Series 09, Season/Series 10, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Mark of Cain (Supernatural), Minor Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester, Dreams and Nightmares, Christmas, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: Christmas is fast approaching, but Dean doesn’t feel like celebrating--he’s too busy hunting for that sort of thing. Though he promises to get Cas back in time for the epic Christmas party Sam’s been planning, Dean has no intention of staying himself. That may be another promise Dean can’t keep when the hunt goes wrong, trapping Dean and Cas far from civilization. Worse, Dean is plagued by unrelenting nightmares of his time with the Mark of Cain and is gripped by a lingering anger that he can’t seem to escape. Back at the Bunker, Sam and the others are working a little Christmas magic they hope will show Dean the light in the dark—and prove to him that the holiday spirit isn’t something he needs to hunt.

Alpha Seeking Omega | @samanddean76 Rating: Mature Word Count: 66,666 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Castiel, Alpha Jimmy Novak, Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha Lucifer, Canon-Typical Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Past Abuse (but not really as the treatment is part of the societal structure), Past Malnourishment, Mystery To Be Solved, Mating, Knotting, True Mates, Slow Burn, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Revenge, Or Justice, Castiel and Jimmy Novak are Twins, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Mpreg, Eventual Happy Ending, Cabin Fic Summary: Omega Dean has lived a harsh life prior to being selected to be a demonstration model at a party unveiling the latest product that Morningstar Enterprises is set to produce. Alphas Castiel and Jimmy Novak are guests of honor at the event, but when they lay eyes on the Omega that is clearly at the center of something that was not a part of the party, the twins leap into action. Unfortunately, they are separated. Now Jimmy must keep Dean safe until Castiel can be rescued. But the more that Jimmy learns about this very well-trained Omega, the more he questions what was really going on that night. The problem is will he be able to figure out the puzzle and still rescue his brother?

[yanderecookierunkingdom]

Hey sorry if this is really not how this love letter thing goes. But could I be receiving a yandere romantic (or platonic) from shadow milk cookie. Preferably before they were sealed, but it’s ok if you don’t want to do that. The reasoning because the backstory heavily tied back to a older era of time when the beasts went corrupt and raged apon the cookies, well except for the reader that is.

This is for the love letter event

Feel free to ignore if you are not willing or do not want to do this ask

[While screams and fear rage on from outside your little hideaway, a shadow drops off a letter.]

My Muse,

It's been so long since I've seen your lovely face! I know that times are volatile, yes, but I promise it's all worth it! These commonfolk Cookie don't even realize the power we've held until now, and now it's time they realized it!

I want you to join me. Join me in tearing down and using anyone we want in our plans! Cut down those who thought they could love you when only I could. Cut them all down, piece by piece, until not even the bird can pick away at their crumbs.

Forever yours,

Shadow Milk Cookie

[diana-bluewolf]

Don’t complain, Mominis, it’s YOUR influence. 

When Chris realised his feelings towards Ominis had evolved beyond platonic, he self-isolated, burying himself with work more than usual. Work made him think, and it was something familiar and simple, which cannot be said about feelings, especially romantic ones, that were entirely new to him. 

Nevertheless, he missed Ominis so much that he left his hideaway to peek at him one day. But when he watched the blond (a judge of the Council of Magical Law at that point) leave his work, Chris noticed something was wrong, so he followed Ominis to make sure his concerns were justified.

Ominis was always sensitive to the weather due to his blindness, which made him feel any temperature changes acutely, so he usually would dress accordingly - not too cold or warm. But he also was the one who struggled with a strong sense of guilt. When they were students, as often as it got worse, Ominis would neglect his needs as if punishing himself. He would skip meal times or not bother to dress warmly when the weather was freezing. The older they got, the rarer it happened — Chris and Sebastian did ensure it — and it was hard to recollect when the last time was.

Apparently, today was different. Despite the snow and low temperature, the blond wore a shirt and a thin vest. Chris didn’t intend to interact with Ominis today - The Hero of Hogwarts wasn’t ready, and he frankly didn’t know if he would ever be, but something was obviously torturing Ominis (someone, Chris corrected himself, and that someone was The Heir of Slytherin himself), and Chris couldn't ignore that.

[50cal-fullauto-astarion]

☈ your bones singing into mine ii

one - two

nikto x gen!bio-weapons engineer reader (no use of y/n) 3.4k words cw: honestly just the relationship being dysfunctional, also like warlord sugar daddy overtones, but that's just how this cookie is gonna crumble Nikto has swept you out of the darkness, and into an intact world burning full of ugly lights. He meets your every need as you work to create weapons to supply him an armory of shock and awe. He buys for you a place in Bruges, a rowhouse right on the water, and your only desire is a romantic dinner with him. He does not have it within himself to deny you.

Nikto brings you out into a world that is bright and burning, but mostly whole. He tells you that things are tied on a shoestring of balance, that any strong enough blow of breeze could tip the whole house of cards, and he has a look in his eyes that names himself typhoon. 

He is one of the most complex and deeply locked men you have ever met in your life, and you have met a great many men with secrets that could turn cities into subatomic particles in a blinding flash of a second. He wants to father a new world, a savage paradise, and, yet, he holds you in the palm of his velvet-covered iron fist as his finest treasure.

Penthouses are cleared out for you–places high in the sky, in any number of cities, so far away from the ground and the dark. He pours money into your comfort like hemorrhaging, and he cares not that his funds bleed, because he can always dump more into the wound. 

It’s a wound he wants to sustain, because he likes to see you clean, and comfortable, and sparking electricity as you work. He provides makeshift, mobile labs for you. Thousands upon thousands of dollars for computers, and programs, and security. Though he lifts you into the light, he makes you a small space of darkness, allowing you to run and return to your work.

He begins to call you Spider, or Pauk, depending on whether his English is dropping your name like a threat, or if his Russian is soft and trying to entreat you.

There is a place in Bruges, right on the water, that he pulls together for you. It is smaller than your other hideaways, cozier. Bulb-lit with warm wooden flooring and tall walls. He walks stiffly through the halls, watching for your reaction, and his shoulders relax when you turn from the window watching boats on the water to give him your cracked grin. 

“It’s out of a book,” you say, “the buildings are such bright colors. How is this real?”

“It’s always been this way here,” he tells you. He shuffles a moment, bringing his clasped hands from his back to his front, before he adds quietly, “We’re glad that you…find it acceptable here.”

Surely he is remembering the blocs he grew up on, all the colorless brutalist construction from the Soviet era. Houses for workers, starvation in the streets. You wonder if his place had heriz rugs all over the floors, to insulate sound and cushion steps and provide color. 

You press your fingertips into the cool glass, looking at him, wondering about him. You’d like to see his face, though he’s told you that it is a nightmare. You’d like to kiss him. You know he loves you, just as you love him.

“It’s perfect. I’m going to like it here,” you tell him, and your heart swells and patters when his shoulders raise a little bit, proud of himself for his pick. With his hidden face, you’ve become an expert in his body language. All his little tells become clear to you, the more time you spend with him.

He is slow with you, cautious. Not as if approaching a wild animal, he would never treat you with such base suspicion and wariness, but as if he is the animal, well-aware of exactly how powerful his bite is. He treasures you too much to damage you. 

Such brutality is held within this many-faceted man, vast and damning. He is a gentleman though, through accident or practice, and he puts that hardwork into effect with you.

It causes you to make the first move most of the time. 

“I want you to have dinner with me tonight,” you say, tapping your fingers against the glass, feeling the condensation cling to your fingerprints. 

He shakes his head. “Your value is too high for us to allow you out of the flat, Pauk,” he says gently, misunderstanding, as if reminding you. There are so many beautiful homes he has carved out for you, but you’ve never stepped foot outside of them. 

He thinks you want to, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. The reality is that you are brimming with hatred at the fact it still stands. That your suffering was for nothing, and the apocalypse still lies dormant but rumbling, a stalled birth. You love your closed spaces and your blackout curtains that hide the world and your tall walls and bright lights.

“We can have something ordered and brought to you,” he continues, trying to soothe the blow that never landed.

A grunt of annoyance snaps out of your throat, hand pressing flat to the glass. “Nooo,” you draw out, turning to face him in full. “I want you all to eat here, with me. Only us, none of the guards making all that fucking noise with their heavy boots. And I want to pretend that we’re all just having a nice night. And there are no contagions or stadiums or belt-fed guns.”

In shame, his head drops a degree, arms tightening in front of him. The supple leather of his gloves creak. “Apologies, Pauk.” His head remains that one slice lower, but his eyes flicker up like a bird’s from beneath his rippy lashes. “We…” he pauses, trying to formulate the words, “we will put that together. For you. What do you want to eat?”

Your hand comes away from the glass, and you press your palms together like a prayer, holding the sides of your hands to your lips. “I want something bloody and buttery. Something good made by someone that doesn’t love me.”

A small noise like a laugh sounds behind his heavy mask, and his neck relaxes. It puts together a picture of thought: it’s a good thing we do not cook for you, then. “We will find something.”

+

Neither of you cook. It’s a sad reality. You were too built up for epidemiology and plague-practitioning to have the room or time to learn the skill, and Nikto readily admits that he’d long ago lost his sense of smell. “Nova gas,” he explained, funnily enough. “That was your grandfather’s work, yes?” It was. He and his team. You are a legacy leper-making, just like God and all of his followers.

The sun has settled fully in the city of Bruges, and the light of street lamps, the running lights of boats on the water, and fairy lights around shopfronts make the water glitter. It is warm here, with all the brick and cobblestone soaking up the yellow light, and for once you are fine with the curtains open.

Nikto has spoiled you rotten with clothing, all of it fine and soft and rich. You dress comfortably, beautifully, and wander the flat, looking over things leftover from past tenants, waiting on his return. He always leaves you with a guard when he is gone, and tonight it is a short but sturdy woman from Montenegro who does not speak. She sits on the small leather couch in the living room, reading a book with horses on the cover, rifle across her lap. You do not bother her, but you cannot wait for her to leave.

When Nikto arrives, it’s with yet another guard, this one in plainclothes, carrying two large paper bags in their arms. It’s always seemed funny to you that he just goes out in the mask, nightmare beneath it or not, and that people must have reactions in public. But, you don’t think Nikto travels anywhere that people would dare comment on it. He has lackeys for embarrassing, mundane duties. 

He takes the bags from the second guard, and dismisses the woman on the couch, letting you approach to lock the deadbolts on the back of the door when they’re out. It is your comfort and your right, he will not interfere with it.

Meeting his eyes, you grin a cracked grin at him. “Smells good. What is it? What was the restaurant called?”

He makes another laugh-noise, looking skin-close to bashful. “We do not know. We sent Dejanović to get it, he knows the city.” He peers into the bag. “He said foreign dignitaries enjoyed the place. We don’t feel like that always speaks well to quality.”

You try to take the bag into your hands, but his arm tightens. He does not like you doing menial tasks. He likes it only when you are free to tend to your work and whims. It is much preferable to him that your needs are met, and he is glad to tend to those tasks when he is with you.

“If it’s all rot and garbage, we can make zakuski instead, and wash it down with vodka,” you tell him, swaying a little, hoping the promise pleases him. “Tahumi brought me a can of caviar, and even found a mother-of-pearl spoon for it.”

His eyes grow hard at the mention of Tahumi giving you a gift. That is another thing that heckles him. He does not like others knowing about you, much less providing for you. That is his honor, and an honor he thinks it is.

Your mouth starts to curl. “Don’t eat yourself with knots,” you instruct him, but his eyes only grow harder, his posture stiffer. “I wanted it, and Tahumi saw it, and he bought it. He did it to please you, because you are so here-and-there with your underlings. Your favor can’t be curried because it doesn’t exist.”

“They are warm, walking corpses, and nothing more,” he says, stone-solid, cold. “We don’t need them for anything more than catching bullets and carrying out orders. You are not a tool to buy their way into security. There is none, and you–you’re–” 

He turns his head and breathes out hard. His body is held so tightly it paints pain on the walls behind him. His molars squeak as they grind together, trying to collect himself, but he is upset.

“Andryu,” you say, pulling his diminutives, trying to pluck the chords that will bring him back to you. You bend your body to swerve, attempting to capture his eyes. “Andryusha.”

There is a little break in the armor, a crack where you can push your fingers in, to find contact with him. There is a little light in his eyes. “We cannot allow you to be taken advantage of. Your wholeness is…” he trails off, struggling, and you provide him the territory to prowl, find his words. He turns and meets your eyes, and there is his passion. “Our last shred of warmth is you. If you are pained, or used, or discarded–it is a blow that would destroy the last human thing in us.”

And, here, your scant humanity answers his. You fold, slope, ease. You nod in agreement. “I know, Andryu, I do. But all of you know where my loyalties lie. You know I wouldn’t hesitate to find you if I felt targeted.” You want so horrendously to reach out and touch him, but you don’t. You have to allow him to initiate, otherwise he cannot handle it. “My lot is in your lot. I go where you go. Everyone else is a corpse that forgot to lie down and die.”

Using his language in ways that he understands it unlocks him to you. His gloved hand comes up, hovering just to the side of your jaw. But he doesn’t touch, he only traces the air in a line down the bone structure. 

+

He allows—or, rather, you give him no in allowing you to stand in the kitchen as he unpacks your meals to plate. It could be call an awkward affair, if either of you had the social graces to register that feeling in your minds. 

He’s taken his gloves off and swatted at your hand trying to take the paper bag for recycling, giving you a sharp look borne of the love he holds. Again, not allowed to lift a finger. 

There are faded Cyrillic characters tattooed across his knuckles, the black ink bloated and faded to blue. SOS across three fingers: either spasi, otets, syna or Suki Otnyali Svobodu. Save me, father, your son. Bitches robbed my freedom. 

He’s never told you which in specific, though he’s offered both as options. Tattoos are carved into so much of his skin, and he’s given you brief walking tours of them when he’s stripped down enough for them to appear. A warping on Russian prison tattoos, repurposed for the Spetsnaz. 

Epaulets on his shoulders—horses die from work. Devils just below those, oskals, hatred of authority. ‘I Fuck Poverty and Misfortune’ in Cyrillic, riding his Adonis belt. A lighthouse on his forearm, yearning for freedom. His skin tells his story, hard-lived, a language known to few. 

His plating skills are what cause him minor self-consciousness. He’s not an artistic man, and he has no eye for aesthetics. The blood-rare ribeyes are just placed and pushed to one side of the plate, crumbled blue cheese dumped artlessly on top. Creamed potatoes end up slopping over roasted asparagus, and he growls in his throat, frustrated. He is trying incredibly hard to make it pleasing. The more he moves it around, trying to be careful, the worse it looks. 

He wouldn’t care if it was solely for him. His frustration is because you will not be eating something pretty. In his mind, the only things you deserve are pretty and perfect. 

His hands stop fussing, resting on the edge of the counter, glaring down at the plates. “It looks like shit,” he renders his verdict. It sounds like he is considering throwing it away and ordering something else.

“Pelmeni look like shit. So does poutine. But it all tastes good, so we still eat it,” you push back. “No one eats shiny plastic or tinsel.”

He grunts again. “People eat shiny plastic and tinsel all the time, because they are fucking stupid.”

“If any of you are insinuating that any of us are fucking stupid, you’re being a fucking child.” Despite the content of your words, it is not said with heat. It is an olive branch, trying to reach him across the expanse of his dissatisfaction. You’re not sure you’ve made contact until his fingers start tapping on the counter, and he hums Krokodil Gena’s Birthday Song deep in his chest. He is calming, rectifying reality with himself. 

After a few, long moments, he picks up the plates, nodding at you, and carries them to the dining table outside the kitchen. It is situated in front of a set of big picture windows that he honestly does not like you standing near, ever, but it is for the sake of the evening. He sets your plate down, and pulls out your chair for you, before he seats himself. There are already sets of silverware and water on the table. A bottle of vodka, and two small glasses to drink from. 

You start by pouring two sips of vodka, offering him one. A toast falls out of your mouth, unthinking, and he clinks your glasses together in agreement. When you put your shot back, he hands you his glass, and you shoot that, as well. He has not removed his mask. He will not. But he overturns his glass next to yours.

It’s an odd affair, how the meal goes. Conversation picks up, on plans and your work, on the state of the world as it stands. That will run out, and you will both turn to other topics. Books, movies, cars. Oh, Nikto has such a soft spot for cars–he could talk about them from dusk until dawn. Luxury cars, supercars, performance and rally cars, working vehicles, even an astonishing breadth of consumer cars. He has opinions that stretch the globe, and you soak it up like a dry sponge. 

The oddest thing is that you eat, and he does not. He keeps his hands resting on either side of his plate, guarding it as if he was a prisoner, but he does not once touch his silverware. He won’t eat in front of anyone. He can’t, not without taking the mask off. It’s something he didn’t have to explain to you, you just understood it by studying his patterns. It’s something that made him even softer toward you. 

You finish, part of your steak left–you intend to slice it up and put it on some grilled crusty bread with piles of caramelized onions later–resting your fork and your knife on the edge of your plate. “That was good. Despite the dignitaries and dog shit. I want a copy of their menu, to tear up and eat bit by bit. I want all of you to have more dates with me, this one dripped romantic. All the seams were splitting up, and it went drop by drop by drop.”

“Date?” he queries, looking at you across the table as he reaches for your plate.

“Date.” You nod once, emphatically.

He shudders, smothering something that sounds like a sigh, averting his eyes. “We…will make sure there is a menu for you, next time,” he starts, unphased by your request. “Roses, if you like.”

You shake your head. “No use for roses, they wilt and die. Flowers all-wilted smell like the dark parts of the bunker, and my stomach eats and eats away at me because of that smell.”  You send an apologetic look across the table, thinking. “I’ll take tokens in trinkets. Whenever you bring me jewelry, I don’t take it off.”

As if in example, you pull up your sleeves, showing him the bracelets he’s brought you, left for your discovery on desktops and dressers. Next, you tug at your collar, showing him a pile of necklaces. 

His fingers twitch, looking at you helplessly. Not even he can prevent the swallow that goes down his throat, when he sees that you hoard the fine things he brings back for you.

Another long moment passes, and he is hoarse when he agrees, “Jewelry. We will bring you jewelry, then.”

In as much of a rush as you’ve ever seen him, he collects your dishes, and the bottle of vodka, storming back through the kitchen door. It doesn’t latch behind him, and you know he will be a while. It feels dirty, destructive and found and deceitful, but you sneak up to the crack, wanting to watch him.

His back is turned, his mask removed. Hair so deep in darkness it shines white under lights sticks up from his head at all angles, some of it missing from the side of his skull, along with an ear. He eats quickly, in clipped bites, gorging himself, stopping only to tip back the vodka bottle. It’s almost an ugly display, brutal necessity, and you know as well as you know the own pounding of your heart that he is uncomfortable, that he hates this. He hates to be bare.

You cannot see his face, and you would not try to see it. You want to see it someday, and that will only happen when he is ready to show you. You will not steal that freedom from him. You will not sneak looks when he is unawares. It is the same courtesy he has afforded you, and you are hellbent to pay it back in kind.

With that prickling your skin, you back away from the door, allowing him his needs. 

When he returns, sitting next to you on the couch, he is warmed-through and softened by the alcohol and food. He takes hold of your ankle, pulling it into his lap, rubbing the knob of your bone with his bare fingers. His masked head tips back, resting against the back of the couch, and he heaves a heavy sigh.

Your stomach clenches, and your heart races. There is so much love between the two of you, so impossibly massive that it cannot ever be feasibly dealt with, and that is something you are fine with when his eyes meet yours in a crinkled smile. 

Perhaps your union will kill the world as it stands, but you don’t particularly mind. His hands are warm against your bones, reaching deeper than any other human possibly could, and he looks at you as if you are his only purpose in life, even if that is not true.

“Andryusha,” you greet him quietly, turning your leg in his touch so he can have more skin.

Another small noise, pleasure, and he rubs deeper, followed by a soft, heartsick request, “Say it again, Paukya.”