#to cover the salt completely I do not taste it at all

[fruitless-vain]

Switching to a larger water bottle has been the best decision yet.

I am drinking the same amount of fluid in a day, as prescribed, but because I only have to drink 3 of this bottle to hit that dose it’s easier to do? The other bottle I had to drink 5 of and it was such a weird scheduling brain problem?

Like I have to drink 1 by bird time, 2 by the dog walk, 3 by lunch, 4 by end of second bird time, and the fifth by dinner was so overwhelming to cram in and if I didn’t get it done by that schedule my head was like Nope You Can’t Get It Done Now

But 3 big ones? Is just drink one casually and slowly throughout the morning. Oop I finished it pretty quick and am thirsty now I’ll fill the second and sip on that throughout the day. oh dang it’s evening bird time already I’ll fill the third time oh dang bird time isn’t even done yet and it’s empty? Shit how’d that happen.

There being that much liquid just sitting there makes it so easy to just Drink When Thirsty instead of “ah crap it’s empty I don’t want to get up right now and fill it I’ll just wait it out” and forget I was thirsty or fall behind schedule.

Plus I cram 2 grams of salt per cup, can’t taste it with a little bit of juice crystals, I could probably stick a third in and not notice? And that would be nearly my whole dose in that case! Insane. No more feeling nauseous bc of the sheer quantity of salt pills every couple hours. Wild.

[ontologicalmoki]

easy pan chicken! (soft, edible, tasty, not at all rubbery or chewy, you’ll wow your guests but also just like. Have some chicken, which is a cheap and easy and delicious protein)

this works best with about as much raw chicken as you can fit in the bottom of the pan you’re using. I really do cram it in there. If you’re only cooking for yourself, you can use a small pan, or just have leftovers, or just only put one piece of chicken in there, but I find it’s easier to burn it or make it too dry that way.

Also I like using boneless skinless thighs best, but it does work with any cut of chicken, bones or no bones. You can dice it before you start, stirring instead of flipping when you get there, but I find it easier to dice afterwards.

(your pan should be cast iron or enamelled or non stick. If you’re using one that isn’t, you will basically need to turn the chicken into a soup base to keep your pan from being a nightmare to wash.)

once you have obtained suitable chicken and a pan to put it in!:

Heat the pan over medium heat and put in enough butter to cover the bottom of the pan. Wait till the butter melts.

over the melted butter, put a layer of salt. You’re unlikely to do too much, meat needs a lot of salt.

add the chicken. You want it to sizzle when you put it in, but it’ll turn out fine if it doesn’t.

to each piece of chicken add a splash of vinegar. I like rice wine vinegar, but literally any works. So does vodka.

layer of seasoning. My favorite is a bottle of pre mixed “garlic butter and white wine” seasoning, but anything works. Chicken is not picky. Options include:

Paprika and garlic powder

Italian seasoning and garlic powder

tarragon, coriander, and garlic powder (noticing a theme here?)

curry powder

just garlic powder

garlic powder and parsley

whatever you feel like today

then put a lid on it. If you don’t have any lids that approximate your pan, a sheet of tinfoil works. Heck a plate works. Just cover the chickies loosely. then forget about them until they start to brown on the bottom. This takes like 5-10 min depending on how much chicken is in there and how thick your pan is. You’ll be able to smell it before it burns irreparably (it’s artistically blackened, thank you very much) and it’s fine if it fails to actually brown, so don’t worry too much about this step. Just leave the lid on for a little while while you do other stuff (boil noodles, make veggies, stuff like that.)

Flip the chickens over. Add butter or vinegar if the pan is for some reason completely dry, but this should not happen. Turn the heat down if it does. Cover it back up.

when you come back to it, again 5-10 minutes later, check if it’s done. Do this by cutting into the two biggest pieces and making sure the inside is white like cooked chicken and not at all pink like raw chicken. No pink is allowed. This is not burgers. Put the lid back on if there’s any thing that looks raw. If you’re paranoid about this and unsure, you can just like. Dice the chicken up in the pan. Or use a thermometer I guess.

your chicken is edible! If there’s seasoning stuck to the pan add a tablespoon of water or lemon juice or wine if you’re feeling fancy (do not use rice wine it caramelises. Which actually tastes ok) while it’s still hot and scrape the seasoning up. You can then mix it back into the chicken. This chicken can be served like this, or you can dice it up, or you can turn the heat down a little, cook it a little longer, and then shred it with a fork for shredded chicken.

tldr!:

medium heat

In order:

butter

salt

chicken

Splash vinegar

seasoning (whatever)

cover it

cool till brown, flip, cook till done.

voila, you can pan fry chicken! I have never yet made it inedible doing it this way, you really won’t mess it up.

[bigwishes]

I’m back. I can’t help it, I’m completely addicted to your magic. Watching you grant so many wishes and transform so many people is incredible.

Work recently has been driving me crazy. All I want is to forget all about it and become a big dumb bodybuilder. So big and stupid that I won’t even be capable of stressing over work. I’ll only know how to big bigger.

Please grant me my wish, oh great one!

Sure! sorry it took so long, a lot of things get lost in the request pile so hopefully this will be a great surprise.

You want to be a big dumb bodybuilder? easy! you only want to know how to get bigger? well I can definitely arrange that for you.

You are at home laying in bed when you start to feel a strange and sudden sensation as your biceps suddenly begin to inflate with size and muscle. Veins on your arms stick out as they visible pump blood around your body. You sit up feeling the slight sting of your stretching and widening body, feeling the trembling sensation of rapidly expanding bone, muscle and sinew.

You can't help but let out a slight moan as you hear your shirt rip around your back. You look down at your legs and see your expanding thighs tightly hug your shorts before starting to slit them.

You flex you bicep and watch it tear through your shirt like it was nothing. You pull of the tattered strands of fabric from your body and go stand in front of you mirror admiring your new form.

You hear a small voice in your head

"work out now" it whispers deep into your mind

You ignore it, focusing on your new size and strength, looking at yourself you get turned on feeling as your pants tighten and you dick gets harder. You pull your pants down and ready yourself for a wild time of pleasure and flexing when a potent tingling pulses out from your pelvis. As you grab your manhood it begins to rapidly shrink, you let out a shriek and begin to panic, desperately trying to stop it but there is nothing you can do as it shrinks out of your grip.

the voice returns, now booming in your head

"WORK OUT NOW"

You drop to the ground as if you were commanded by an army drill sergeant and begin to pump out as many push ups as you can.

up and down, up and down, up and down,

you don't even know how long you've been doing this, why you are doing this.

you stop, sitting up on your knees feeling your body painfully pumped up almost like it was pushing you out from the inside, every pulse of blood forcing you to get bigger. You look at your reflecting panting like a rabid dog so sweaty and out of breath you dont even notice the carpet beneath you soaked from your sweat and starting to change colour.

You cant help yourself but flex, as you lift up your arm you can smell the stench of your sweat flood out from you like nothing you've ever smelt before. Desperate for some form of pleasure you lick you arm and taste and salt from your sweat covered arm.

Its starting to get hard to move your bulky frame, letting out a large grunting breath as you drop your arm back to your side the voice begins again.

A echoing howl in your bing

"get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, no purpose, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, just a machine, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, be a machine, get bigger, get bigger, get bigger, no purpose, get bigger, get bigger"

You grit your teeth and grab your temples with your palms, trying to ease the sensation, but you cant stop it. You drop to the ground and begin pumping out push ups once again, as fast and as hard as you can.

You look up into your bedroom mirror as you continue to force yourself to do more, you see you face dripping with sweat and can see the stench radiating off your back, your neck is getting harder to make out from your ever swelling body. You don't even remember it getting dark out. You think about stopping, for just a minute to catch your breath.

but no

you cant stop

you need to get bigger, bigger, nothing else matters, you only need to be bigger, as big as possible, you wont be satisfied until you are too big to move.

that's it, you can't stop yourself, you can't let yourself stop, not until you are a muscle bound freak.

[thesamoanqueen]

Bimini Dream

A/N: When I wrote it the mood was completely different, it was an inspiration born from a friend suggestion, but seemed correct to me wait before posting it. It has nothing to do with what happened and I won't write anything about it for the same reason I haven't published this story until today, Roman is a character/Joe a real human being and there's a big difference for me. Breaks are useful to understand what our priorities are, unfortunately life is not always a dream or a vacation, but we all should appreciate what we have.

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, 18+ Inspired by Naked - Doja Cat

Giving up his spot hadn't been what he imagined, what he had prepared himself for. It had been difficult, exhausting, even more so after the first few weeks. Four years had the ability to make everything a habit and when the time for big projects had arrived, the impulse had still been to be present no matter what had happened. Your relationship had been put to the test. Roman had seen you angry, frustrated, disappointed even, troubles in paradise that Roman didn't want and risked taking away more than a belt from him. You wanted the best for him, the best for the new chapter of his, your, life together and he couldn't get it with old habits, you were right, as always. So he had learned to control from afar, focusing on the next project, without answering every call or request that didn't personally concern the work he had pending. Months had passed, a time in his mind that was confused, short and even endless, but the well-deserved vacation had finally arrived. Not a one-day break between filming, interviews and meetings for new projects, a real vacation with his woman.

A paradise for the two of you. Made of palm trees and crystal water, fresh sheets and feet sinking into the damp sand of a private club in Bimini. Days spent away from chaos getting drunk and kissing, caresses and massages to take away the memory of punches and bruises, your laugh in his ears at all hours. You were happy and carefree like a lil girl again and Roman was unable to take his eyes off you in those moments, sure of wanting this for your entire life together.

His eyes scanned you, as you slipped out of the sundress just beyond the threshold of the private area, your thong bikini to greet him provocatively between soft curves dirty with sand and salt. The sound of a song hummed all the way to the dining room table to grab some fruit and disappear onto the balcony overlooking the beach. Just the time to get a drink for himself and attracted like a sailor by his mermaid, Roman followed you out, sitting on the sofa to enjoy the show you were delighting him with. The wavy movement of your hips is hypnotic, the water sliding between your barely covered breasts is an invitation as dangerous as your fingers, busy washing a day of snorkeling off your skin. The taste of fruit and alcohol on his tongue unable to wash away his thrist and your eyes finally finding him, as bright as the familiar smile forming on your lips.

- "Why are you looking at me like that?" – he hears you ask, continuing to massage your thighs.

- "You' enjoying yourself"

It wasn't a question, but pure pride, the reward for his efforts. He would have given you anything if you had only asked, spoiling to the point of forcing you to say enough, his absolute priority was you, the pulsating engine of his continuous success. He couldn't have looked at you any other way than with adoration, gratitude. Always there for him, always ready to support and push him.

- "I’d have more fun if you came to keep me company" – you mutter, a playful pout and a hand reaching out to call him.

And how could Roman say no to you? He didn't want to, he had never been capable of doing so, and putting down the drink, he freed himself from his tank top to join you under the cool water of the shower, his hands quickly finding your body, those curves where his muscles fit like a puzzle to reveal the rough skin under his fingers.

- "You're still covered in sand" – he notices, cleaning you carefully, while you lean forward, filling the space between you two until your breaths mix.

- "Nope, it's brown sugar scrub, you wanna taste it?"

A whispered offer, almost a secret, even though you already knew his answer. He had always been a hungry man, but you awoke a feverish need in him, the urgency to consume you and be consumed furiously as soon as your eyes met in a complicit silence.

- "Mmh you keep testing me" – he noted, placing an innocent kiss on your nose, already feeling your fingers free him from the bun and copy with a real kiss.

Flavor of mango and dragonfruit surrounds him, an inviting aftertaste when your teeth bite into him slowly, eliciting a dangerous moan from him that makes you smile devilishly, drawing Roman even further under the water. His hands stop you, gripping your round hips, dark locks dripping onto your breasts. The silence of the empty beach not far from you two, now filled by the sound of close breaths, growing tension making Roman’s muscles tense and your core soften.

- "‘cause you’re too good" – fingers caressing his broad chest, running your nails over the shiny tattoo up to his broad shoulders, to lock behind his neck – "now can we get naked?" – you finally ask.

The new offer is not a secret nor whisper, there was nothing playful about it, just pure desire and Roman is a good man, but sure not a saint, so he grabs you by the back of your neck, forcing you to tilt your head, watching in admiration as your breathing stops for a moment already, a silent moan for his sudden commanding behavior leaving your honey lips.

- "Strip for me babygirl, slow, show me first" – he orders against your ear, licking away his own words before taking a step back, just one and enjoying the show.

Your hands leave him sadly, but you obey, moving your wet hair from your shoulder to play with the thin string holding up your colorful bikini top. You pull it down, slowly, stretching the fabric until the bow comes undone and Roman watches it fall at your feet like anyone should have. He follows your fingers caress from your collarbones to your breasts, full and perfect for his hands and passes one over his face, moving away his hair, while yours slide down the belly he loves to kiss down to what he loves to eat. Bimini had its own fountain of eternal youth, Roman's was there between your soft thighs, always ready to welcome him, juicy and tasty like the fruit you wrapped your lips around every day for breakfast. He watches you turn, eye over your shoulder and crouch down to take off your thong, leaving it to keep company to the top. When you get up Roman can't hold back a sound of approval, eyes glued to the two brown hills that you rub on his already hard boner, and then turn around and caress him.

- "Why you keep standing there? Don't you want to slip into something more pleasant?" – your body presses against his, breasts tickling his muscles - "… maybe me?" – you invite him and his mouth finds yours without waiting a second more.

Neither of you tries to go easy, you kiss without haste, but consuming each other, cool water sliding on your heated bodies like Roman's tongue on yours. You suck on his lips as he maneuvers you to have total control and you let him do it, abandoning yourself against the wall to free him from the swimsuit he kept on for your day together. Roman kicks it away without care, growling hoarsely into your mouth as he feel you gripping his dick in your hands, torturing the head with a soft thumb until he break the kiss with a heated moan. He presses his forehead to yours, letting you prepare him, your mouth trailing kisses down his neck and shoulders, biting into sun-tanned skin and licking away water drop by drop.

- "There's no where else I'd rather be" – he squeezes your hip, smashing his other hand against the wall, your nipples rubbing against his chest and you smile.

- "I love how you look at me… makes me feel so special" - you meow against his mouth and it's enough to make him snap.

Oh, special would be an understatement to describe you.

Roman lifts you up effortlessly, his large hands on your round ass, letting your legs wrap around his hips like a belt. He would have gladly worn you for the rest of his days, anywhere, without shame if only it were possible, sinking into your soft folds sweeter than any victory. He watches as you throw your head back, shaken by the pleasure that hits both of you in finding each other and he takes the opportunity to suck your neck, giving a couple of lazy thrusts, to spread you and savor the spasms of your center that gets used to the presence of him. Your arms hold him, lips ready to cover him with soft kisses on his temples and freckles, fingers laced in the dark locks of his hair to pull them, make him growl and guide him to you.

His attentions will leave a mark on you, but neither of you cares. You have nothing to hide, you belong to each other and you both show it with pride. No one will pass by that beach, Roman had paid good money for your paradise and he didn't regret it at all. Everything to make you smile.

- " nhm… you're getting wet as fuck" – he hums, adjusting his posture to increase the pace.

His hips become more commanding as he feels you give in and with his face buried between your breasts, he works you without going all the way, spending his time playing your nipples, devouring and licking the sensitive flesh to reduce you to a gorgeous panting mess. Your nails dig into the back of his neck, onto his shoulders, your head resting on him, almost a hug, bodies impossible to separate and on his tongue that aftertaste of brown sugar.

- "R-Ro… ahn, keep doing that" – you moan, holding him against you.

His name belongs in your throat like a jewel, the kind of gift no one else could give you because only Roman knows what you need to satiate your thirst, what touch makes your body shivers and what is needed for a lovely bow. He grins, he knows not going deep makes you even more needy, he feels your heart hammering like the water falling at his feet, your moods dirtying his hard cock. Then he stops torturing your breasts, letting your body slide a little further down and the moan with which you delight his ears feeling him entirely Roman swallows it as he kisses you. Squeezed between the wall and his massive body, with no chance of escaping him, he moves an arm under your thigh to a new angle that makes you scream with the first thrust.

- "Hm, it's so g-good… God… more- more-" you beg, your gaze liquid, lips swollen.

- "I own this pretty pussy, hmm is mine. I know how to make her sing…" - he growls, pushing himself between your folds until you throb.

A satisfied smile spreads uncontrollably on his face, pride, possession, desire, love, a mixture in his guts that burns where your bodies are united and from which Roman cannot take his eyes off, mesmerized by the sight of your honey spread all over his flesh now that you are stretched to perfection. He watches your walls suck him in, clinging to the veins on his skin, hips moving incessantly, while your pleas become louder in his ears increasingly dizzy with growing pleasure.

- "P-please… Ro… there" – he knows where you want it, he knows what he has to do to see you faint in to his arms.

And he hits that spot, without mercy, giving you what you want, focusing on that weak point able of making you breathless and driving him to madness. The spasms of your body, soaked and panting, are shocks inducting him into a sort of competitive trance, his hands hooked at your side, at that thigh bent almost to his shoulder to have complete access to your core. You tremble, his flesh swelling your center every time he pushes into you, making him growl excitedly, sight matching the furious sensation of the now imminent climax. Your moans become strangled cries and then Roman shifts his gaze to your face, to intercept your almost desperate expression, the one that always anticipates your orgasm. When it finally arrives, he feels your nails digging into the flesh of his forearms and your voice fades into a delicious cry, he kisses you, hammering your sweetest spot without stopping for a second and he watches with pleasure the violent tremors of your body.

- "My precious girl… cum, you're so f-fuckin gorgeous" – he growls obscenely against your lips, seeing you open your eyes again with a lost expression, your hips swinging to meet his thrusts and please him too.

- "G-give it to-to me" – you beg, but it wouldn't even be necessary.

He finally puts you down, still holding you by the hips to avoid your legs playing a nasty trick and he enters you from behind, this time sinking completely, one hand on your ass to spread your soft buttocks. You meow, your sensitive center trembles from his intrusion and Roman throws his head back smugly, licking his lips, feeling the water run over his face and your hot folds around his flesh. He slides deep, his cock covered by your white nectar and energies gathering at the bottom of his abdomen ready at any moment to explode inside you. You are soft, familiar, holding you in his arms is a sensation capable of making him feel at peace with the world. Your hips roll tiredly, giving him everything you have and Roman thrust to take it, pounding deep inside you, the furious ecstasy of heat building every time his balls slap you making your back arch against the wall. He gave you what you wanted, always before himself, but now it's his turn. It's a violent, rough ride during which your sweet whispered words mix with his hoarse moans, legs burn, while he lowers his head and finally abandons himself to the wave that suddenly hits, dragging him inside you. The climax is overwhelming, Roman gasps, everything in him seems to empty inside your core, his hips fit into the beautiful curves of your body, mind blank and body unable of wasting a single drop of himself outside.

One of your hands finds him, resting on his forearm in a silent caress and when the hot wave it's finally over, Roman lowers himself onto you, placing a kiss on your back as you smile tiredly. You’re the one who breaks away from him, because for Roman it's an impossible feat he never tries to accomplish.

- "Such a hard working man" – you joke, wrapping your arms around him again.

Water slides against his back, washing away sweat and moisture from both your bodies, while he cradles you, your face pressed against his chest. Roman places a kiss in your head, a satisfied and soft smile on his face as he feels you hold him, so precious and for a moment the two of you stay there, until he’s again stable enough and he drags you out of the shower. You folllow, already knowing what he has in mind, fingers agreeing to leave him just long enough to wrap both of your bodies in white towels before walking back inside. Another refreshing glass to rehydrate and you and him collapse on the bed, hugging each other between the scented sheets, lulled by the sound of water and your breathing.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @expert-texpert @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @sortudademais @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @darqchilddaydreamz @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @joannasteez @reignsx @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @333creolelady @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @dreamsinfocus @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318 @headoftheetable @wrestlingprincess80 @tribalauthor

[throwmethroughawindow]

“Come on Zoro, please?”

The hulking form of said man seemed to sag in annoyance at your persistent begging, slowly whittling away at his resolve with each ask but the bottle of sake next to you was a huge bargaining chip for you.

“What the fuck is a body shot anyways?” You had to ebb away the sliver of excitement at his question, already tasting the tequila on your tongue.

“All you have to do is hold a lime in your mouth. I’ll do the rest! And if you let me do this,” you held up the bottle of sake so Zoro could see it “you get this sake i brought specifically for you.”

“Fine.” He grunted and snatched the sake bottle out of your hand before you could react “but I’m taking this now.”

You shrug, not really caring as you take in the expanse of his chiseled chest. His body was perfectly honed and looked like it was made out of marble, felt like it too. Reaching over, you pour a shot of tequila and grab the salt and turn to face Zoro. His gaze was enough to make you want to sink to your knees and worship the ground he walks on, licking and sucking as much as he lets yo-

“Well?” His gaze cut down on you like a blade, shaking you out of your thoughts and making your heart and pussy throb “are you going to do this body shot so i can go back to drinking or what?”

“Well… there’s one tiny little detail I didn’t tell you. I need to lick a part of your body to put salt on for the tequila.”

A red blush dusted Zoro’s tanned cheeks as he seemed to falter for words, stammering “w-what the hell? Are you some kind of pervert? Why the hell do you wanna lick me?! Just take some out of the shaker!” You rolled your eyes at him, pushing closer to him as you grab tug on his open button up shirt playfully.

“That’s what a body shot is! It’ll be quick I promise. One little lick and some salt and we’re done!” You trailed your fingers over his abdomen, marveling at his solid body and the slight twitch it did at your soft touches.

“Fine! But hurry up, okay pervert!? Acting like that damn lovesick cook, wanting to lick-“

Zoro couldn’t help the loud moan as the feeling of a wet tongue licking across his very sensitive nipple. Glancing down, he caught your look of surprise at his reaction

“Why the hell are you licking my nipple!? You really are a fucking pervert!” His yelling didn’t really phase you because the only sound in your head was the sound of his pretty moan, how guttural and deep it was… not to mention how the sound went straight to your pussy.

“I’m done playing your stupid-“ Before Zoro could finish you latched your mouth around his nipple, nipping at it and sucking; doing anything to hear him moan again. To hear this huge Herculean man groan above because you licked his nipple was mind-blowing and completely erotic.

Sucking a little harder, you let out a small whimper as he panted and moaned above you; wrapping his hands in your hair to wrench your head away from his nipple as he set you with a hard glare. You whimpered again when you looked down and caught sight of his hard cock, trying to press closer to him to feel it against you.

“God you’re acting like a slut. Didn’t know you wanted my cock so bad,” Zoro had a mean smirk on his blush covered face, trailing his tongue over his sharp canines as he took in your blown out pupils and jutted bottom lip. “Makes me want to fuck you right here in the stupid cooks kitchen to show you who holds the power in this relationship.”

Thank you @terarria-sunflower for encouraging me to expand on this bc u said I could change u into a Zoro girly😭😭😫😫😫🩷 love you pookie

[taisgf]

can you write about reader rescuing abby and lev after sb ^^

AGAINST THE TIDE.

A/N: gn!reader. violence, soft!abby, established abby x reader, reader is quite sarcastic.. fluff, hurt/comfort. In this fic she doesn’t get on the boat to the island, she’s just chillin on the beach ig?? First req yayayay!!! ily anon

SUMMARY: After weeks of grueling torture at the hands of the rattlers and a brutal encounter with Ellie, Abby couldn’t be happier to hear your voice. AKA: saving Abby and Lev after Santa Barbara

The air is thick with the ocean’s salt, though it does little to cleanse the taste of metallic blood in Abby’s mouth that lingers after the fight with Ellie. She was long gone- disappeared, her figure vanished into the seemingly endless night.

Abby can feel the sand against her palms, Lev’s head suspended on her lap. She had been able to relocate maybe 150 meters up the beach before collapsing near a mound of sand and weeds, her legs numb, her whole body weak. Abby looks up at the sky- a thick haze of cloud covering everything. No sun. No sky. Just.. grey. She rests her head against the sand, sighing as she looks down at Lev, a hand weakly stroking his forehead.

She can hear the sound of footsteps against the sand, soft, tentative. A pit forms in her gut- maybe Ellie had changed her mind. Maybe it was a Rattler. Maybe-

“Abby?” She hears you call.

Her head whips in your direction, scanning your face. Her eyes meet yours. All she can do is say your name, weakly trying to stand, holding Lev in her arms.

“Hey. Hey.” You assure, immediately jogging over to Abby and placing a hand on her shoulder, scanning her and Lev’s injuries.

“I’ve got you. It’s okay. Christ, Abby-“ You sigh, a mix of relief, longing and pain.

“(Y/N).” Abby says again, her voice hoarse and raspy. She leans to press her forehead against yours, her stance wobbly at best. You let it linger for a second- a hand coming to hold her jaw and press a kiss to her dry, chapped lips. You look down at Lev, running a hand over his head soothingly. The kid's out- cold.

You take Lev into your arms, and wrapping one around Abby’s shoulder to support her. “Come on,” you coax. Abby nods, resting her weight against you as you walk. You think back to when you were separated nearly a month ago- what Abby had said to you.

“Go. We’ll meet you at Catalina, okay? Don’t worry. We can handle ourselves.”

You remember getting there maybe a week and a half ago- no Abby, no Lev. A week at Catalina, still nothing. Two weeks. Now you’re here- finding her washed up on some beach, completely wrecked after days of searching.

You look them over again as you walk, and give Abby a half-smile. "You two look rough."

Abby huffs a weak laugh, leaning heavily on you as you drag her and Lev towards the shack you found earlier—a shabby fisherman's hut, long abandoned but still standing strong. You had prepared it as best as you could in the short time you had, but it would have to do.

You guide them to the old hut, flicking on a lantern and lighting a candle. Abby collapses onto the makeshift bed with a groan, scanning the place. “You really know how to spoil a girl, don’t you?”

“I try,” you quip, grabbing your med kit as you sit on the edge of Abby's bed. You don't miss the way her hand subconsciously grips your thigh, a familiar act of comfort for the two of you. "-And I like the new hair. Really frames your face."

"Shut up." She rasps, hissing as she fully relaxes into the old mattress.

As you start cleaning Abby’s wounds, you can’t help but smirk. “You know, I was expecting some sort of big, romantic reunion. Maybe some flowers, even a ‘missed you, babe,’ or something.”

Abby chuckles, wincing as you apply antiseptic to a nasty gash on her side. “Sorry to disappoint.”

"Forgiven, for now. I don't hate this, it makes me feel important. If I didn't know better, I'd say you and Lev need me right now. Maybe this could be our new thing.”

She leans back, closing her eyes for a moment. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You turn your gaze to Lev, who lies on the other mattress near Abby's; feeling his forehead with the back of your palm, a concerned gaze lingering in your eyes.

Abby watches you, her eyes soft. “I’m serious, though,” she says quietly. “I thought I wouldn't get to see you again for a second there.”

You glance at her, face softening. “Please, you’re not that easy to shake. I’ve tried.”

A small smile tugs at Abby’s lips. “Lucky me.”

"...You know I never would have stopped looking for you two, right? Not for a second. I'm serious, Abs. I love you. You two are everything to me." You affirm, this time with an audibly more serious yet tender tone.

"Yeah. I know," Abby says gently, her eyes scanning your face, taking in every single detail. "I love you too. As does Lev."

“Damn right,” you hum, finishing up the bandaging on her side. “Now, try not to get into any more fights for the next, I don’t know, twelve hours? Maybe even twenty-four? I hear it’s good for your health, or something.”

Abby groans, but there’s softness in her eyes and humor in her words as she looks up at you. “I’ll see what I can do.”

You plop down beside her with an exaggerated sigh, pulling her closer. “Good, because I’m not dragging your ass off another beach anytime soon.”

Abby lets out a real laugh this time, resting her head against your shoulder and pressing a few kisses to your skin. “Deal.”

And for now, that’s enough.

[eyesxxyou]

𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆 🏴‍☠️🐚

| i. one| pearly white eyes

🐚・・・pirate!Hobie x mute!siren!reader.

𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱: blood. death. decompostion. mentions of person being eaten. reader is caged. mention of selling reader.

↳ ❝ If only the sea would love him back. How unrequited his adoration was ❞

𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

“Da ocean is no’cha friend, ‘Obie. It’ll chew ya up ‘n spit’cha ou’ ‘n there won’ be a trace of ya left.” His mother would grab his chin when he was young and gazed at the ocean for too long, hypnotized by the lapping waves at the shore, like it was coaxing him toward it. He’d stand there, body swaying with the sea back and forth back and forth, its song luring him closer. She’d try to hurry him along as they made their way to the market from their little home.

But Hobie would linger, feet bare against the ground, toes digging into the sand. The salt of the sea carried by the wind across his nose. He closed his eyes and listened—listened to the song of the sea. The crash of the waves against the rocks below, the seagulls cawing in the distance, the ripple of the salty wind against his face. He could taste it if he stuck his tongue out.

He knew that this was what it felt like to be completely at peace.

He let his eyes flutter open slowly and suddenly he was on the beach, taller, dressed in clothing that didn’t feel like his own. The sun had barely begun to set over the horizon, painting the sky in broad strokes of lilly pink and tangerine orange. The sea was calm, gentle waves washing up on shore. It was foamy and white, wetting his leather boots. Then it was pink, then the unmistakable brown-ish color of old blood. He looked out at the sea. Red, all red.

“‘Obie.” The calming voice of his mother. Low and thickly accented. Hobie looked back down at his feet and there she was, his poor mother, lying in the wet sand almost as if she had been washed up onto shore. The sea had spit her out. Half decomposed, half eaten, with blood coming from her ears. Her eyes were open, milky white, not a single spark of life to be found within them. But she spoke, her half exposed jaw opening. “‘Obie.”

“Mama?” He couldn’t move. Why couldn’t he move? Why couldn’t he help her? Why was he so useless? Why couldn’t he save her?

“I’s time t’wake up, ‘Obie.” She crooned so softly, almost singing to him. 

Hobie stared down at her, unable to look away as her body slowly withered away and turned to seafoam. Unable to do anything to stop it. “Mama, ‘m sorry I couldn’ save ya. ‘M sorry. Please forgive me.” He wanted her to hold him, even if she was decaying before his eyes. He wanted to know her kindness, her warmth, her forgiveness, just one last time.

But she just looked at him vacantly, with those dead eyes of hers. Just before her face melted away into nothingness, she spoke one last time.

“Wake up.”

Hobie shot up in bed, his eyes vigorously searching about his surroundings– wide and wild with panic. He was no longer on that beach he had known so well in his youth. He sat in his cabin, aboard his ship, The Mary Jane. His mother was nowhere to be found. She hasn’t been for years. He knew that already.

He was layered in a thin film of cold sweat, his chest rose and fell with the sway of the ship. His skin glistened under the golden rays of dawn stretching her fingers across the sky to mark a new day. It caressed him, told him it would all be okay. But it offered no comfort. He reached up and wiped away a stray tear from his cheek. Hobie figured there was no use in going back to sleep. He didn’t want to go back to sleep, didn’t want to run the risk of another recurring nightmare.

Hobie left his bed, disheveled and disgruntled. He grabbed his billowy, off-white tunic shirt from off the floor and slid it on over his head before grabbing his boots to shove onto his feet on his way out of his cabin. Tossing the door open, Hobie used his arm to cover his eyes from the rising sun. His face scrunched, grimacing at the abrupt brightness that overtook him. His lip curled with distaste. He was not a morning person.

“‘mornin’, Cap’n. How’d you sleep?”

Hobie looked up at the crow’s nest where one of his crew sat happily perched, looking down at him with a smile almost brighter than the early-morning sun. His skin was a deep caramel and his dark brown hair fell over his face, only tied back by a blue scarf. Pavitr had been placed on look out and by the looks of it, he'd been up there all night. He looked tired but was trying to hide it by being energetic.

Hobie only grunted and that was all the answer Pav needed to know that he had another nightmare. Everyone on the crew knew he had them but no one had the gull to bring it up to him or try to talk to him about it. He wasn’t the type to want to talk about and no one wanted to upset him. He had given them all a home aboard The Mary Jane and asks for nothing in return besides that they never talk to him about the things they’ve heard coming from his cabin.

“Get down from there ‘n get some rest, Pav.” Hobie motioned him down as he walked away.

The rest of his crew roamed about on the deck, either preparing their swords and guns or cleaning. There wasn’t much to do between raids besides prepare for the next one to float along their path. Most delegated chores amongst themselves simply out of sheer boredom. They all nodded their heads respectfully or greeted Hobie with a quiet, “‘mornin’, Cap’n”. They must have all known. Either he had been yelling again or they could tell just by the way he carried himself with a heaviness they could all feel, he cared not for which.

Hobie made his way up to the forecastle deck where he could feel the sea wind the best. He leaned against the railing and closed his eyes as he always had when he was a child and took in the beauty of the sea through the rest of his senses. The smell of salt and fish burned his nose and the breeze kissed his slender cheeks. He could feel the coolness of his rings against his knuckles and the layered chains around his neck almost restricting him. And he loved it all.

If only he could close his eyes and make it last forever. If only the sea would love him back. How unrequited his adoration was. He’s learned to despise the ocean and her children for everything it has done to him. And he’s vowed to conquer it. In a way, that's how he loved it.

“Cap’n.” Hobie didn’t open his eyes nor did he answer but he knew who stood beside him. She tried again. “Hobie.” He opened his eyes and glanced to his side where stood Gwen, a small blonde with brilliant blue eyes and a fierce attitude. She looked up at him sympathetically, the only one willing to take the risk to talk to him about his nightmares. “How were things last night? You were talking rather loudly in your sleep.” Her fingers twiddled with each other in front of her but she never stopped looking at him.

Hobie turned his head away, his jaw tightening with discomfort. “There’s nothin’ t’say. Y’all heard i’.” He dragged his tongue along the soft inner flesh of his cheek. “I don’ think i’s something’ we need t’talk ‘bout.” He retracted. It was easy to pull away from others. No one on deck knew him like Gwen did though, but even she had limited knowledge about Hobie’s life before he took up a life at sea.

“I won’t force you to talk, I never do. But I want you to know I’m always here if you need to talk. I’m your friend before anything else.” She placed her hand on Hobie’s shoulder only for him to shrug her away. “‘M fine. Where’s ya boyfriend, Gwendy. Go bother him.” He didn’t mean for his words to come off as harsh as they had but it didn’t seem to deter her.

She leaned against the wooden railing beside Hobie and sighed, looking out at the open sea before them. The sun was rising quickly, still red. The sea was as red as freshly spilled blood. She opened her mouth to speak but paused. Her eyes narrowed into slits as she looked out into the distance. “Is that a ship?”

Hobie perked up and squinted his eyes as well. It was indeed a British royal navy ship, the sails only half unraveled, just wading through the shallow waters entirely directionless. There seemed to be no one on the deck. There was something off about it. If he could see them with just his bare eyes then they could certainly see The Mary Jane, so why weren’t they attacking? They were certainly within range.

“Prepare the cannons but don’ fire jus’ yet. Ge’ ready to board.”

Gwen gave one firm nod and marched off to direct the rest of the crew who jumped up with enthusiasm and began scuttling about the deck in preparation. Finally, some excitement.

Hobie took his place at the helm of the ship, steering closer to the navy ship with an air of caution settling over the deck. “Fire a warning shot.” He commanded with authority that everyone respected. Within minutes there was a fire shot at the ship and before they knew it a white flag was being flown over the navy ship. They had given up without so much as a fight.

He was sure it must be a trap, a farce to get him to lower his guard. Hobie grabbed his sword and gun and rounded up some of his crew to board the navy ship with him while the others stayed behind to protect the Mary Jane from attack. He gathered Pav, Gwen, Miles, as well as a handful of others and took them with him.

Hobie boarded the navy ship with a heavy thump of his boots, his saber unsheathed in preparation for an attack. His eyes shifted back and forth, ringed fingers gripping the handle of his sword with a hold so tight his knuckles paled. He was soon followed by the rest of his crew, all equally as cautious.

“Search the ship, bring me everyone you can find.”

His crew split up and began to scour the ship for any people or loot they could find. Most of the crew were still asleep and were summarily caught with their pants down. Quite literally, as some were brought to Hobie in only their underwear. Including the captain or the ship who was tied up and brought before Hobie, shoved to his knees.

Hobie held the tip of his sword to the captain’s throat. He was an older, pale man with graying hair, round and fat with lack of work. He looked cowardly, afraid of the fate that lay before him. “We surrendered, take whatever you please. But leave us our dignity.” The man pleaded dramatically and Hobie found himself wanting nothing more than to slit the man’s throat and be done with it. He was not in the mood for being merciful after the night he’s had.

“Why did y’surrender so easily?”

The captain trembled. “We were raided by pirates just a day ago. We were in no position to fight. Most of our men were lost. Please, I beg.” He laced his fingers together only for Hobie to press his sword to his throat and draw the slightest bit of blood. “I wonder why I don’ believe ya.” His eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“Cap’n.” Miles came from the hold below the deck and motioned Hobie to come. “You’ll want to see this.” He shifted with distress and urgency. His golden, brown eyes shifted between Hobie and the lower deck where he, Gwen, and Pav all resided.

“Watch all of ‘em.” Hobie commanded the rest of his crew. “Don’ hesitate to kill anyone who ge’s outta line.” He looked back down to the white man before him before marching past him in firm strides towards the hold. Hobie followed Miles down, his sword still drawn.

It was dark in the hold and the smell of stale ale and old fish stung in his nose. The dim light of a lanturn offered just enough light to see exactly what Miles had beckoned him down for. He had seen you.

You were the most hauntingly beautiful thing he had ever seen. Pav and Gwen stood around the cage you were in; Miles joined them, all of them staring with something of wonder or horror, it was hard to tell which. Maybe it was a bit of both. Maybe they were one in the same.

You had eyes like the freshest milk he's ever seen, eyes like pearls, white and sparkling, all wide and framed with long lashes that stuck together with the tears that ran down your cheeks and over quivering lips that undoubtedly hid the horror of your fanged teeth. Shimmering scales like iridescent pearls showed up in small patches over your skin, on your shoulders, your forearms and your calves. You were akin to a human, minus the scales, your finned ears, and the fins that stuck out of the backs of your forearms and legs. You were covered in strings of pearls that hung around your neck and over your hips, shells, and coverings made of seaweed. 

You were something divine, something not of this world, something so terrifyingly gorgeous. Hobie knew exactly what you were.

“I’s a fuckin’ siren.” Hobie marched forward, his face stone-like with dispassion. He grinded his teeth almost to dust. His lip curled with disgust and his eyes lit up with fury. “Open the cage so I can kill the tin’.” They all looked at him with something of fear and worry. They had never seen him so furious about anything.

“Shouldn’t we think about this?” Pav stood between you and Hobie, his brows furrowed. “It’s hurt.” He looked back at you and saw the dried blood caked onto your skin originating from a large wound in your shoulder. “Shouldn’t we ask more questions? Why do they have a siren locked up in the first place? We should all be dead right now but we’re not.”

“Plus, sirens are useful. They cost a lot on the market.” Gwen piped up.

They were right. Hobie didn’t want to admit it but they were right. Siren's blood was highly valuable and was used to heal illnesses and injuries. Their scales were used to make jewelry as well. They were highly sought after and would make a good bounty but hunting them was incredibly dangerous. It’s rare that anyone actually captures one. They're known to bring entire ships to the bottom of the sea where they’d eat their victims.

Hobie sighed. He’d save himself a lot of trouble if he just killed you before you drowned the whole lot of them. “Keep them in the cage for now.” He turned on his booted heels and made his way back onto the upper deck. Everyone was just where they had been. He stood before the captain of the ship once more and glowered at him. “Wha’s with the siren? Y’should all be dead righ’ now.”

“I- We captured it for his majesty…he wants to make a zoo of the things, but it’s broken. Can’t sing. Figured…we jus’ might sell it on the market for parts. You– you can have it. Just leave us.” He smiled as he offered you to him, wearily and desperately. Something about the offer disgusted Hobie. The selling of flesh, even if it wasn’t that of a human, was morally reprehensible in his book.

With one swift motion of his sword, Hobie slit the captain’s throat and watched as he fell to the deck, choking and gurgling on his own blood. Blood splattered onto Hobie’s face at the initial spray and down the rest of his body as the captain collapsed.

He stepped on the captain’s body as he made his way back down to the hold to figure out if he should do just the same with you. Your kind killed hundreds in your lifetime, thousands even. Your kind lured people to their deaths by way of seducing them with everything they desired in life. There was something quite despicably sinister about it.

Hobie came back and stood before you, your frail, injured body. You looked up at him with those milky white eyes that almost made him flinch. He couldn’t bear to look at you, the way you wept, as if you were crying for your life. How could such a thing look so perfect while crying? He cursed his feelings, his empathy, his humanity. Would a being like you even understand something like that? Something as complex and beyond comprehension as human emotion? He barely understood it himself.

“Let it go.”

Gwen and Miles fiddled with the lock until they managed to break it open and let you free. You didn’t move for a bit, your eyes flicking from side to side at all of them to see what they would do. You trembled with fear, you sobbed in choking gasps. Hobie knew that sirens were meant to be alluring, that’s how they captured their victims, but he didn’t know one could look so pretty while crying.

After a while of stillness, you finally began to move. You crawled out of the small cage you had been locked in, wincing at the pressure put upon your injured shoulder until you stood up. You were a fragile thing, looking between the four of them as they all stood back and watched you. They were waiting for the moment you’d flip, the moment you’d sing your hypnotizing song and convince them to all jump ship.

“You’re free.” Hobie moved out of the way, sheathing his sword to show he meant no harm. He did it despite all signals in his mind telling him this was a terrible idea. “No one will kill ya, no one will sell ya. Yer probably gonna die from ya injuries anyway. Jus’ go.” If you remained in his presence any longer, he may just lose it. Your kind stole innocent people from their families. Monsters, the whole lot of you.

But you didn’t move, you just stared at him, blankly, blinking with those pretty lashes of yours. Your lips formed into the smallest pout.

Hobie sighed. “Don’cha understand me?” Sirens were meant to understand all languages.

You nodded, tears still streaking your pretty face.

“Then go, go now, before I change my min’.” He gritted his teeth and pointed towards the door, moving further out of the way to give you more room to leave. You hesitated just for a moment before beginning to walk on shaky legs and bare feet. You look at them all as you pass them but you stop in front of Hobie and stare– just stare for a long, drawn out moment. You stare even when he turns his face away from yours because he can’t bear to look into those eyes.

That’s when you begin to run. You scramble off up the stairs, soon followed by Hobie, Miles, Gwen, and Pav, and they all watch as you climb and stand on the edge of the boat. You look back one last time at Hobie before turning back towards the sea and diving overboard.

They all rush to watch you swim away. All except Hobie, who can’t stop thinking about those pearl white eyes.

[outerrimhours]

Brahms Heelshire X Fem!Reader

{Part One} / {Part Two} / {Part Three} / {Masterlist}

Notes: I most certainly sat in the dark by candlelight listening to dark classical music when I wrote this.

Warnings: Smut, needy virgin Brahms, sub Brahms, 

Song: Ghost Song - Max Ablitzer

Without the candlelight, the guest room is crepuscular. Shapes of the furniture almost discernable in the flickering ivory gleam. The silk of your nightgown glowing with the kiss of a fire’s light. It had been too many nights alone, but you knew Brahms was okay when the new book you had bought him from the store disappeared. Your perfect ink penmanship written along the opening, “Even in the darkest nights, your spirit lingers. Mine ever waiting for its presence.” 

As you leaned down to blow out the first candle, a shadow crept and elongated against the floorboards. The Hillshire phantom lingered in the doorway of your room, peering at you through porcelain eyes. 

“Brahms”, you whispered, eyes fluttering at the sight of him in front of you once more. 

He studied you with soft, observant eyes like an artist in the Louvre, drifting and lingering over the shadows in the candlelight. A shift in the atmosphere, like drifting weightless through water. 

No matter how many times he laid his eyes upon you, you stayed the most intricate thing, blessed by an absolute delicacy that he so craved and desired. 

Your eyes lingered by his throat, watching him swallow, down until your gaze met the dip in his chest, fingertips aching at the fascination to touch him. 

You stepped forward, reaching tentatively out to grasp his wounded hand. Pink, angry scars littered the pallid stretch of skin and you pulled it towards your eager lips, placing the softest kiss against the flesh. 

You swore you could hear the faintest gasp when you guided it to your chest, allowing the warm, claminess of his palm to rest against your beating heart. Wild and eager against his own pulse. His eyes drifted, gazing under hooded eyes at the low cut edge of the gown. 

Too many nights Brahms dreamed of how you would feel. Heart raging with ragged breaths, he stepped closer. Electricity prickled his fingertips at the smoothness of your arm, dragging long, eager fingers down the flesh. Goosebumps rising. 

“I would never leave you”, you proclaimed quietly, guiding him to the oversized bed. 

You guided him to sit, the anticipation in his stomach almost making him sick. 

Slow, deliberate fingers guiding the cardigan from his shoulders, suspenders along with it. You loved the curves and veins that adorned his shoulders, arms, over his hands. Hair darkening over the milky skin. 

You laid him back, candlelight catching the edges of your lashes in liquid gold, bathing you in an almost angelic glow, casting shadows on the wall. You couldn’t look away from his eyes, they moved with every movement you made. 

“Let me kiss you”, you asked, fingers gripping the edge of his mask, begging for permission. 

Brahms  would do anything you asked for in that moment, all you had to do was utter the word. 

At the nod of his head, you released the cover, allowing your eyes to bask in the gloriousness of who he was. Beautiful, anomalous. At the stroke of your thumb against the scarred skin of his left side, his eyes closed briefly in a moment of peace. 

You hadn’t even kissed him yet, and yet he was already achingly hard beneath you. 

You leaned down to kiss his eyelids, the bridge of his nose, the angular sharpness of his jaw and the stubble that sat against it. 

“Be a good boy for me and be so still”, you breathed, ghosting your lips over his own.

Brahms eyes were so blown out, needy and lustful as they looked up at you. The darkened pupils almost swallowing the pale blueness completely. And when you finally met his eager lips, he whimpered against you. Everything in him screamed to reach out and grab you, kiss you harder, but he obeyed your command. 

You tasted like the salt air of the English sea. Like fire to gunpowder, he consumed your mouth against his own, head swimming with desire. When your lips left to wet his throat, Brahms propped himself up on his elbows, head tilting back to allow you full access. Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with each swallow of saliva. Cold hands reached to lift the fabric of his wife beater, knuckles grazing against the hardness of his stomach, the soft pillowy hair that sat against it. Brahms couldn’t help when his hips bucked slightly to meet your center. Ever so satisfied when you allowed the faintest gasp to slip through. 

At the sight of his bare chest, you allowed the straps of your gown to fall ever so slowly down your arms, the tops of your breasts so perfectly teasing his line of sight.  

You hovered over him, thumb brushing against the swollen, pouty flesh of his lip commanding him to open his mouth for you. His mouth sucked softly against the thumb of your hand, needy, desperate huffs escaping his throat when your other hand reached down to unbutton the top of his trousers. 

He was already soaked when you released him from the confines of his clothes, precum leaking from the tip. When your hand wraps around his cock, he can’t help the boyish, guttural whine that builds from his chest. Gently shushing him, you move to kiss his chest, soft pillowy lips lingering over every inch of skin. The soft hair of his chest tickles your nose with every further movement. Your touches ignite a fire against his skin, and he’s shaking at the anticipation, eyes wide and waiting. 

You savor the way his stomach heaves with every nervous breath, your eyes never leave his the further you trail, saliva now cold against the places your lips had been. 

When your tongue finally found its place on his cock, ever so slightly licking the precum, Brahms cried out, fingers gripping through your hair, desperate to thrust into you. 

“You’re being so good”, you praised tenderly, igniting a flame so deep in his belly drool couldn’t help but drip slightly from his parted lips. 

Feeling the warm wetness of your mouth sink down upon him was the most intoxicating feeling Brahms had ever felt. He almost wanted to cry, the way his chest felt so heavy and breathless. 

Soft, little gasps left his lips every time you moved against him. Brahms was being so, so good for you and as a reward you slipped the dress from your body, letting his eyes take in every exposed inch of your bare skin. 

Hand wrapped ever so softly around his cock, you leaned up to lick the saliva dripping down from his lip and onto his exposed neck. 

“Please”, he cried out, one of the first words he had spoken all night. “More, I’ll be good, I swear.” 

Your hand teased him, slowly pumping up and down, fascinated by every whimper and cry until you felt him harden even more in your hand. 

Cum spilled over at every praise of your words,

“Such a good, sweet boy.”

He was gasping, desperate for air. The wetness between your thighs dripped down onto his leg, hair falling over your eyes, lips parted and mesmerized by him. He couldn’t help the arousal that quickly returned. 

“Be so, so still for me Brahmsy.”

You straddled his waist, cunt warm and eager to feel him inside of you. Brahms was so overstimulated, face flushed and feverish. Ragged, guttural breathes and moans at the sight of you on top of him. He wanted to reach out and feel your breasts between wanting fingers. You sunk down on to his cock, cum warm against the innerness of your thighs, tangled in the hair at the base of his cock. 

Brahms growled at the feeling of your cunt squeezing and constricting around him, hands gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles were white. Sweat beaded over his skin, eyes so innocent and wide watching you ride him. He whimpered so helplessly, and when your hand reached to massage your clit, he choked on the babbles that he cried out. The most you had ever heard him talk. You hiccupped and gulped at the building pressure, reaching around to the softness of his hair to guide him into a sitting position. You allowed his arms to wrap around you tightly, forehead pressed against your own to peer into your eyes as you came. Crying his name over and over and over. Encouraging him to cum for you once more, tears brimming his eyes and threatening to spill over.

“There you are, cum for me, just like that. Such a good boy”, you cooed, his own cum coating your insides.

You were both heaving and shaking, holding each other tightly against sweat glistened bodies.

“I love you, truely, dearly, forever”, you said, kissing the tears that managed to slip down his reddened cheeks.

[milliesfishes]

how about one with Billy and shy!female reader who is sensitive to the heat, maybe

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂'𝓼 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵 𝓲𝓼 𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓽𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

Summers in Lincoln County were hotter than Hades.

Billy spent those months with his sleeves rolled up and his hat pulled low over his eyes so the sun wouldn’t beat down on his face. He was permanently sweating, wiping his brow every few seconds. He tried to stay clean though, keeping his girl in mind.

But you didn’t seem to mind one bit, smoothing your hands over his sweaty chest and kissing his cheeks, not minding the taste of salt on his skin. Whenever he came home, he’d try and nudge you away, protesting, “Baby I smell like heat ‘n horses, I gotta wash up f’ my girl.”

But you’d shake your head, burying your face in his unbuttoned collar. “Don’t care. I missed you.” It always made him chuckle, and he’d press a sweaty kiss to your hair.

Your story with the heat was completely different.

He’d learned quickly that you had a tendency to overwork yourself no matter the weather. Sometimes he’d find you at home with an arm flung over your eyes, resting on the chaise, only in your chemise.

Kneeling at your side, he’d rove a finger over your forehead, kissing your cheek. “Sweetie, ya feelin’ alright?”

“Think I was outside for too long,” you mumbled, and he sighed.

“Honey you gotta learn to take breaks,” he murmured. “‘N you’re not drinkin’ ‘nough water either sweet girl.”

“‘m okay,” you breathed, and he shook his head, standing and going into the kitchen to get you some water.

But one day it all came to a head when he was in the garden with you one day. It’d been several hours, and he’d been pestering you to stop and breath for awhile now. Always his stubborn girl, you insisted you were fine, that you could take ten more minutes.

Well, now he was standing, reaching out a hand for you. “Angel. Would ya please come with me? Don’t want ya not to be feelin’ well.”

You pursed your lips, reluctantly giving in and getting to your feet. But the second you were upright, he saw your eyes roll back and your knees buckle. “Baby-“

Billy managed to catch you before you hit the ground, hoisting you into his arms and hurrying into the house, abandoning the garden tools. He brought you to the bedroom, stripping the covers back and resting you there. Making quick work of removing your dress, he noticed you stirring.

He breathed in relief, tossing the dress aside and untying his bandana, tugging it from around his neck and mopping your brow. “Hey, baby. ‘M gonna getcha some water, okay? Water’ll make ya feel better, honey.”

You reached out for him, eyes hazy. “I didn’t listen to you.”

“‘s okay, baby,” he cooed, stroking your cheeks. Billy would never dream of being upset at you for any reason. “All that matter’s you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay honey.”

After you’d drained two glasses at his insistence, he stripped his clothes, holding you close at your insistence. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he murmured, “We’re takin’ more breaks from now on, ‘kay? Don’t needa be workin’ as hard as ya do.”

You nodded, sleepy from the heat. He cared for you more than you did yourself, and you loved him more than anything for it. He was always conscious of your health, determined to keep you around for as long as possible.

[jaidens]

I Could See You In Your Suit And Your Necktie – Pass Me A Note Saying, "Meet me tonight"

pairing [s] : aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warning [s] : smutttyyyy | he's my daddy idec | just absolutely disgusting and unholy | younger reader with salt and pepper hotchy | I don't even know.. all I know is it's big | wrap it before you tap it irl! | some of this stuff Hotch does is illegal on the road, don't do it in real life queens. | i didn't know how to finish it tbh 😭

a/n [s] : for all my hotch girlies.. me too girls. (requests are open)

It was extremely and completely unprofessional for the current actions that were happening. That was all that was running through Aaron's mind whenever he watches the way you tug off the tight button up t-shirt. If anyone found out about the relationship with his team member and the unit-chief he would surely have been fired. However the way you slowly unbuttoned his pants and bit your lip, he would have been gladly fired for you.

It's down right awful the way he lets you pull him apart with your manicured nails and messy hair. It all started with a singular look and a “Yes sir, I'm coming” when he called you into his office. He only needed to ask you a couple questions about a recent incident on the field whenever you grabbed his thigh by accident. However when you walked in, all was left out the door as you flapped your eyelashes.

The professionalism of the situation was wrong, and he could be easily kicked out for taking advantage of his power. The way your lips taste and feel against his makes everything fall apart. He knows nothing further can happen in the office, but he knows that his bedroom and a glass of wine can finish everything.

“Didn’t you have a question for me, sir?” Is all you say when you pull away from his lips. His tie is pulled loose and his lips are a dark pink. “When you—god, touched my thigh on the Craner case. What did that mean? I've been thinking about you since that day. It's like, fuck, I'm an addict for you, baby.” The way the curse and pet name slides out of his mouth like he's always called you that is addicting for you.

“I’ve been thinking about you too sir. Every night before bed.” You whisper in his ear, rilling him up further. Your hips grind against his as you connect his lips to yours again. His hands fall to your ass, massaging gently. “Well. I still have paperwork sir. I'll see you tomorrow.” You push off of him and he writes something on a piece of paper, rips it off, and hands it to you. “Goodbye agent.”

You can't help but smile at him and wave your fingers at him. The strong and broody man grips his own once further and slams his fist against the wooden desk. His tie is loose and you can see the soft mark of your lipstick that rubbed against the white collar. Aaron's normally slicked hair is messy and fluffed against his face.

The paper sits in your hand and you can feel it burning in your back pocket of your black slacks. Whenever you get to your desk, you sit down and you can feel Emily's eyes staring a hole in your head. You turn to look at her and she leans in, “Your lipstick is all over your mouth, and you just went into Hotch’s office. What happened? Are you guys.. y'know...” She makes a motion with her hands that makes you laugh. “Oh my gosh, Em, I just ran my hand down my face. Me and Hotch are not doing anything.” You wink at her and see her mouth drop open. “I totally knew y'all were doing something. Don't think I haven't seen you guys under the tables.”

You shake her off and continue your work as Aaron emerges from his office. He fixed himself up and somehow covered his pink marked collar. “Agents,” He addresses all of you, “You are being allowed to go home early.” You hear a couple cheers and you smile at him and grab your stuff. “I need to get to the station earlier. Recently, the subways have been coming so much earlier.”

You give a hug to Jennifer and Emily before walking away with Spencer. “How has your mom been, Spence?” You ask, holding small talk with him. “Thank you for asking. I called yesterday and the nurses said she's been improving.” He tells you as he presses the elevator button, suddenly Aaron appears behind you, hand slightly touching your lower back.

“That’s great Spencer. I'm glad she's doing better.” Aaron is standing in front of your Spencer as he presses the floor to the parking garage. “Me and Spencer are going to the main entrance. Level one please.” He presses the ‘1’ button and he turns around and stares at you and Spencer. Aaron leans into your ear and tells you dangerously: “Agent Reid is going to the entrance. I'm taking you home tonight.”

It makes you swallow the anxious feeling in your throat and you nod. Aaron straightens back up, fixing his tie. Spencer has subconsciously pushed away into the wall whenever you and Aaron walk out of the elevator and leave him alone. “Bye Spencer! I'll see you tomorrow.” You wave at him and he waves back and gives you a ‘good luck’ look. Spencer had been the only one to find out about your relationship.

He found out after he accidentally walked in the wrong hallway at the wrong time. Spencer was sworn to secrecy by him after you threatened to tell people about his Star Trek boxers. You and Spencer were considered the best friends of the team, other than him and Derek. You had been around the same age and both grew up in California.

“Why the hell would you do that in front of Spencer?” You push away from Aaron’s hands. His eyebrows furrow and he raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me? Get in the car.” His arms cross over his chest and you see the way his suit tightens around his thick arms and the way he can't be bothered with you. It's enthralling and you almost jump into the car.

Aaron's car is sleek with black leather seats and a clean brown etching throughout. He has some soccer stuff in the back seats for Jack, but if anything it's extremely clean for a single father and a five-year old son. Your hand caresses the slick marble look of the Cadillac. Aaron opens the door to the car and turns it on. He puts his case in the back of the car. His head throws back to the seat and he adjusts his hips. Aaron's thick hands pull at his tie and loosen it. You're admiring the older man and the way he looks heavenly in the lights of the car.

Your hands fall to your thighs and you slowly squeeze them to let out your feelings from your face. His hand goes to your thigh and slides into your inner thigh and his thumb rubs gently. He can't dare to turn the radio on to take away the thick silence that wraps around your heads. You're desperately trying not to look at where his hand is as you feel his pinky finger slowly inch to just where you want him.

His name falls from your lips like poison, and Aaron wants all of it.

“Stop teasing Aaron— please touch me..” You stare up at him when his fingers caress the seam on your tight slacks. You open your legs further, and you look over and he doesn't even dare to rip his eyes from the road. His hand pushes away to the waistband of your pants. You unbutton and tug down your pants. He looks over for a second and sees the soft pink underwear you decided to wear that day.

Aaron plays with the small bow on the panties, his hand running across the waistband once more. Eventually, his hand slides in, and he falls to the most sensitive part. Small figure eights he draws on your clit as you mewl out to him. Your hips slide to the feeling and you grab onto his other hand. You can't understand how he has no reaction, and continues stares with a straight face at the empty road in front of him.

Aaron begins to finger you, only one finger inside before he adds another. Your hips grind against his hand and the pleasure almost becomes overwhelming, with the movement in your clit and him fingering you. The thick coil in your stomach is on the edge of snapping as your hips start to push instead of grinding against his hand. “I—I’m gonna cum!” You mumble out and before you know it, you cum with a snap of your hits and a cry.

“Good girl.” Hotch tells you, that voice that can make you cum just from the sound coming out. It's gravely and makes you feel warm everywhere, if you weren't already. Eventually, he pulls into his first class neighborhood, something he had worked for. The neighborhoods where houses have fountains and decorative trees surrounding.

The sleek black car pulls into his house, the garage door opening and letting him in. He shuts the car off and opens your door. Aaron lifts you in his arms, wedding bride style, and takes you inside his house. It's extravagant with huge chandeliers and tall walls and ceilings. He sets you down in the large kitchen island, your ass hitting the cold marble.

His hands reach up your white button and slowly massage your breasts through the lacy draw you decided to wear that day. Your head drops against his shoulder and you kiss gently against his neck. “I want you to fuck me, Aaron.” You tell him staring into his eyes through your eyelashes, pulling on his tie. Aaron lets out a groan and he picks you up on your thighs.

Aaron takes you to his bedroom and you swear it's bigger than your apartment. The bed is king-sized, and only takes up a small part of the room. He practically throws you against the bed, and you bounce on it, before he throws your thighs open. God, you may be strong, but he's making your muscles soft and your thighs shake.

You sit up and unbuckle the belt on his pants and unbuttone his pants and shrug them down. He's big, the tent in his pants is bigger than anything else you've seen. Maybe the 20 year olds you've hooked up before are just not the right ones, but Aaron was girthy. You pull his underwear down and his cock flings out, and you can't help but let your mouth open up.

You let your hand run up and down on his dick, rubbing his tip with your thumb. You spit in your hand, and jerk him off more, sucking softly on his top once more and licking off the precum. Aaron's hand goes to the back of your head, holding you against his dick. You mumble out once more whenever you fly up to kiss his lips and say: “I need you to fuck me now, I've already said it.”

He pushes you down against the pillows and jerks himself off a little more before opening your thighs. Aaron puts his dick in the right place and slides into you, and you cry out as he bottoms out against you. Your arms go around his neck and grab on before he slowly moves in and out. You cry out his name once he starts moving quicker, finding the pace that made you cry out the most and scratch your nails against his back.

“So good! Please Aaron, harder!” You and Aaron are clashing hips, the sound of your body hitting against each other is all you hear. He pulls your legs up on your shoulders, readjusting you until it's comfortable, and he fucks you harder than he already was. You're crying out his name as you cum and the stickiness falls throughout your body and hits the bed, but rubs against your hips and ass.

Aaron cums a few minutes later, with a groan into your neck. You're holding onto each other while your chests fall up and down in an attempt to catch your breath. “Fuck— that was amazing.” Is all you can say, and Aaron agrees. He clasps his lips against yours and you clash lips dangerously. He falls against you and you hold onto each other. Your eyes become heavy with sleep after the wild night and you fall asleep against his shoulder.

[milkbreadtoast]

Hey guys random but I wanna share this spinach pasta recipe I improvised the other day bc it's really east and tasty and a nice way to eat my greens... I've eaten it for the last several meals lol

sauce recipe (1 serving)

fresh spinach several(3?) handfuls (blended with sauce)

oat milk ~1/3 c (or a diff unsweetened milk)

small pat of butter(flavor) + 3 spoonfuls olive oil

lots of black pepper + couple shakes garlic powder (or minced garlic)

tiny pat of miso/deonjang (if u dont have it, just add more cheese, or some salt to taste)

Lots of pecorino romano or parmesan cheese (or both)

+

more handfuls spinach to eat w pasta whole, opt (several/3 handfuls; keep in mind spinach shrinks a lot when cooked) (cooked in microwave, with sauce liquid)

more cheese, black pepper, parsley etc for serving

Note: need a blender to make the spinach sauce green. I used a small bullet blender. If you don't have a blender, just cook and eat the spinach pieces whole alongside the pasta instead of blending it w the sauce, like an alfredo cream sauce.

With whole spinach pieces:

>combine sauce ingred in tall, microwave safe bowl except spinach & cheese; microwave 30 sec to melt butter/miso and mix thoroughly

>add several handfuls of spinach to the sauce liquid; this is the whole spinach pieces.

>cover + microwave for 1 min /until the spinach leaves are completely wilted and tender but still green

if u dont have a blender you'd be done here (microwave longer to reduce, add more cheese/oil to make it thicker, etc)

>add 2-3 handfuls fresh spinach into bullet blender and pour in most of the sauce liquid; Blend until fully broken down into a creamy green sauce. (add a splash more milk if it's not blending)

>combine w rest of sauce in the bowl; add cheese and microwave 30+ sec more uncovered (*i add cheese at the end bc it's harder to blend with the spinach)

Without whole spinach pieces (just green sauce): combine all sauce ingred Including spinach into bullet blender; blend until fully combined; transfer to bowl & microwave 1 min + longer as needed to reduce (uncovered)

Pasta:

> boil pasta in salted water according to directions (go a min under and test if its cooked, for al dente pasta)

> drain + return to pot, add the sauce + stir

note: if doing this method u can also make the sauce in the same pot instead of using a microwave; after draining the pasta, leave it in strainer, and make the sauce in the same pot and simmer... turn up the heat to boil + reduce as desired, then add the pasta back in and stir until hot. (If i was making a bigger portion for multiple ppl i'd prob do this)

USING LEFTOVER COOKED PASTA (this is what i did, bc i had made a lot of pasta a few days ago, and had the leftovers stored in fridge):

> microwave pasta by itself in a bowl/plate for 1 min, covered

> add the hot sauce on top of hot pasta (microwave first if it's not hot enough)

(^i microwave sauce + pasta separately to ensure the pasta stays al dente btw... if u microwave sauce with pasta it gets soft)

(If making large batches ahead I'd store the pasta and sauce separately for the same reason... I'd prob do the same thing I did, make a large batch of pasta and then make the sauce right before eating... I just hate soft pasta tho so if u dont then dw abt it🫡 lol)

> Top w extra cheese, black pepper, parsley and serve/eat immediately!!

[arcanesea]

chocolate-covered love | lee felix x reader | 496 w. GENRE: established relationship, pure fluff WARNINGS: none !!

"What kind of chocolate should I get?" you speak to the phone. You're in the middle of buying all the ingredients to make brownies with Felix. He told you to wait until he got home, but you insisted to go first and reduce the preparation time.

"We can work with any kind of chocolate, babe. Just don't get the flavored one in case it'll taste weird," Felix answered. You're always so eager when he offers to cook you something and he finds it adorable. It's not like you can't cook, hell, you're a better cook than him, but dessert? That's his specialty and you humbly admit your defeat in that specific area.

You ended up getting a pack of dark chocolate (Felix said it works well to complement the coffee, making it richer in taste), a pack of sea salt chocolate for the same reason, and also a pack of rainbow choco chips.

You were just cooking the spaghetti when he walked inside your apartment. He called your name before locating you in the kitchen with your duck apron.

"Hi," you greeted him. Trying to focus on mincing the onion and keeping an eye out for the pasta. He walked over to you before placing his hands on your waist and urging a kiss on your cheek.

"How can I help, babe?" he asked before washing his hands in the sink.

"I'm all set, lix, thank you." You said as you put aside the cooked spaghetti.

"Okay," he said before getting to his things.

Every week, in this exact space, you and Felix have your own stuff to handle. It's never silence because the both of you do a little catching up on each other's lives while cooking for dinner. You enjoy cooking for him, and in the meantime, you also enjoy watching him cook for you. After all, you completed each other's full course menu.

"Oh, you get the sea salt chocolate," Felix announced. "This is the best one."

He chopped them up, before taking one and feeding it to you.

To your surprise, it already tastes so good by itself.

"Babe." Felix laughed at your expression. "It tastes good, right?" You agree. It's probably the best chocolate, and it's addicting.

By the time Felix's brownies get into the oven, you are already plating out the spaghetti.

"Perfect timing," Felix said, helping you to tidy up the kitchen a bit before walking to the dining table.

Both of you eat slowly, exchanging words here and there, and suddenly you're left with empty plates.

"I love you," you said suddenly, seconds before the timer went off. Felix stood up with his sweetest smile, cupping your face and planting a kiss. You smile at the kiss, feeling unbelievably cheesy.

"I love you more," Felix said, pecking you once again before walking to take the brownies out.

Love, you think. Though it's not always tooth-achingly sweet, it gives you the nicest treat, making life a little more bearable.

a/n. you don't know how much i love sea-salt chocolate bar like that shit is the best out there also idk what is this i just need the sweet

[nescaveckwriter]

Lighthouse

A/N: 🐞... Okayz my dearest love bugs, 💕 another one done for @jacklesversebingo 🥰 yayaness, I know its been a while though, But I hope y'all are gonna enjoy this one, I must say I'm super proud and, a little terrified as this is 'Supernatural' based 🫣🤭, so let me know what y'all think.🥰 Okayz much love🥰❤️🩷

Warnings: *18+ Only* Horror, Thriller, Mentions of blood, violence, angsty, little fluff, heartbreaking, drama.

Line: Tree, Clock, Rope

Characters: Dean x Fem Reader, Sam, Benny, Cas, Crowley

Words: 6700 😱🫣 I know I'm sorry.

Cover & Pictures: Pinterest, Canva, Google

Side Note: Please check out my Masterlist for more, epic stories🐞💕

The sky has turned into grey, dark clouds threatening too cover the earth with its darkness, the smell of rain is everywhere as it nourishes the earth, as you stand under the pouring rain, listening too him say, goodbye, letting the rain mix with the tears on your cheeks. Not being able too move a muscle, you just stood there unable to make a single sound, unable to ask him why, why after this long, did he want to break up with you, did he want to throw away the life you built. Weren't you enough for him no more,? Is there someone else? Why Now?

The way he said goodbye wasn't with a voice filled with anger, no, his emerald green eyes was sad, his voice almost breaking when he said "I need too let you go sweetheart" and his lips found yours instinctively, it was a soft, kiss, mixed with the taste of him, salt and rain. You didn't want him too leave, you wanted to grab ahold of him, and beg him too stay, but before you could, he got in that Chevy Impala, the engine roared and the tires screeched, as he drove off into the darkness, not a single star in the sky, its almost as if the magic of the moonlight left with him.

Its been a little over three months since he left you standing in the rain, like some dumb country song, but you somehow found a way too move through your everyday life, you were a hunter before you met Dean, and you still are, well in all honesty saving people is the only thing that got you through the days.

It isn't really a job you tell everyone about, oh heck no!, its more a work you keep too yourself, letting your family believe, your just a traveling failure, well you always did kind of feel like you lost your way over the years, but these days your numb. Your best friend Sam doesn't even talk too you anymore, you don't really have a lot of folks who you could call, and say "hey, ya know I'm not really doing well, I need a pick me up or a damn hug" no you always kept too yourself, not trusting anyone, but the day you met Dean and Sam on a hunt it changed.! Sam quickly became your best friend and well Dean soon became the only man you'll ever love, even though he had his issues. And then there was Castiel the angel, he has always felt like a beacon of hope, making you laugh with his "I don't understand that reference" sayings. But the day Dean walked out they all left, leaving you completely alone in this damn scary world. It's not the monsters that scares you, no that you get, but it's the people. Every single person you have met in your life has a hidden agenda, why can't they just be good people.

Sitting at the diner in the small town, were you were investigating strange disappearances, ordering a black coffee, the display with the different pies catching your eye. Your mind wanders off to Dean's birthday... You prepared all his favorite foods, burgers, bacon, fries, the greaser the better, and then you started with the making of his favorite pies. But somewhere along the way you forgot about the pie's in the oven, letting them burn to a crisp, after you rushed in, trying to save what's left of the charred goods, seeing it was disaster, you wouldn't be able to save it, you burst into tears, cussing yourself for messing up what's supposed to be the perfect day, you felt his strong arms pulling you towards his chest, staining his shirt with the wetness of your cheeks. He's breathe hot as he kissed you, in a loving, comforting way, reassuring you everything will be okay, it's just pie's not the end off the world.

He always did know how too comfort you, how too chase the darkness away, he was your lighthouse, so to say, showing you the way, back too the light. And now, now there's no more light too go home. No more home, just nothing.

Taking a sip of the now cold bitter coffee, that kind of taste like, old shoes, not that you'll know how that would taste like, but betting its something like this. Placing the cup down, sliding the dollar's underneath the half full cup on the diner table, you get up, throwing your ball cap on, hair hanging loose on your shoulders, taking your leather jacket and phone, you start too head out of the small town diner.  Walking towards your Harley Davidson, you've always liked the way, that bunch of metal, felt roaring as you sat on that leather seat, the wind rushing through your hair, the way those gas fumes, flowed through your veins, not even to talk about the adrenaline that went with it, oh damn, you felt about your Harley like Dean felt about his impala. Seeing a giant creep checking out your bike, leaning on it, irritation in your voice "excuse, what are you doing?"

His voice rough and unpleasant "why do you care, little missy"

Walking closer, your eyes darker than usual "that's my bike"

The bald man, with his long beard, hiding his tatted neck, started to laugh "No way such a small little thing can handle that sort of horse power"

"I'm only going to ask you nicely one more time, get off my damn bike!"

Crossing his arms in front of him, "Or what? You gonna call the little cops"

"No! I'm going to make you get off my bike"

"I'd like to see you try missy"

She really wasn't in the mood for this. So she tried to shove him off, but he was on the larger side and didn't really move a single damn inch. It just made him irritated "hey come here missy" he said as he grabbed a hold of your arm, you smiled, that made him look at you all confused, but he soon realized, he should not have messed with you, as you took his fingers, and started bending them backwards, bringing the big guy down to your size. With your free hand, you punched the sucker in the face. Got up on your bike, and drove down the road too the nearest bar you could find, for information and while you where there you might as well get something to drink.

The Black Chevy Impala roared as it parked in front of the diner, Dean and Sam got out, a big guy, with a black eye, just got off the ground as they started making their way towards the door, Dean looked at the guy a smirk on his face "What happened to you buddy?"

The man mumbled "crazy biker chick"

Dean just laughed, as he figured this chick was probably part of his gang, as the beaten up guy had a biker jacket with their logo on. He still smiled but he felt stabbing pains in his heart. His sweetheart was a 'biker chick' a swell, she could handle that roaring horsepower better than most men, and man!, was she tough, so fierce and fiery, so passionate and yet so gentle, vulnerable at times, so fragile, she cared more than most, people, and beautiful, so freaking beautiful, her smile could light up a room, he fell hard for her the first time he saw her, and it just grew from there he loved her , he still loved her, but he just had too walk away, for her own safety, everyone close too him get hurt or dies. And especially with everything going on, he couldn't risk it, if someone found out, that she wasn't just another hunter, no she was the love of his life, he'd never forgive himself if something would happen too her. Sam calling his name for the fourth time pulled him out of his deep thoughts, "Hey man, you with me?"

"Yeah, yeah, just thinking I need a drink not coffee"

Sam gave him a sympathetic smile, knowing his brother probably thought of her again, he just nods and says "okay sure let's go"

The only information she got was that, some of the missing folks were last seen close too a pig farm , on the outskirts of this town.

And now, now she just sat here swallowing the vodka, it was easier than too think that Dean aren't coming back, hating how she felt , how alone and miserable, how heartbroken, she really thought that she was stronger than this, but no, she's weak and pathetic, sobbing about a man, a damn man who left her in the pouring rain. What the hell was wrong with her, she never was the kind, to be good little wife material, who would cook for her husband and bake brownies for her children's school, but the sad truth was she wanted too be all that with Dean, she would've gave up hunting, too be his wife and the mother of his children. But clearly he didn't feel the same. Thumbing away a stray tear, she gestures to the bartender , for another. The music was loud and the alcohol made her slightly lightheaded, she knew she needed some air, sliding off the barstool, walking towards the exit, fumbling in her pockets for a packet of cigarettes, she only smokes when she drinks. Some guy, lit her cigarette, she just nods, thanking him with a smile as she stood in the crisp evening air, the air mixed with nicotine hit her lungs, letting a little cough escapes her lips. As she blows out the smoke, she heard that damn Chevy pull in, she couldn't miss it , Dean had a certain way if driving and it was him for sure. She just stood there, frozen in the darkness. "What the hell is he doing here" whispering underneath her breath. Hoping that he doesn't see her, knowing that she will burst out in tears the moment she tried to speak too him.

He wales past a couple of bikes, that's when he saw it, her bike, hard too miss it, on the rear bumper the lyrics of her favorite Bon Jovi song. He elbows his brother "Sam, she's here"

Sam looked at him shocked, "What? Are you sure"

Running his hand over his face "Of course I'm damn sure" clearing his throat "I can't see her, man, I just can't, I've missed her so much, it was hard enough too walk away from her that night, I won't be able to do it again"

Sam places his hand on his big brother shoulder "Don't you think, this whole protection thing your trying is dumb"

Dean's jaw clenched, "No, Everybody around me dies, and there's nothing I can do about it, I have to let her go"

Sam just shook his head, his known his brother felt like this for a while now, but it's gotten worse, his unsure why, but he will try and get through too him, Dean's only been happy, whenever he was with her. "Okay let's go"

Dean and Sam made their way towards the car, they're about to get in when they heard a spine chilling scream , Dean recognized her voice. He searches in the darkness, when he catches a glimpse of four men, throwing her in a black van. He didn't even realized it but he started running towards the van, as the last of them jumped in, he saw a glimpse of her, the last thing he heard, was her screaming his name and a gun shot, which brought him to a stop as he fell to the ground, chanting her name over and over, until his eyes fell closed.

Sam fired his gun towards the van, but couldn't get decent shots from that angle. He fell to his knees next to his brother, glancing at the bullet wound in his chest, the blood gushing out, he applied pressure on the wound, he could feel the life draining from his brother as he begged Castiel to come. Sam's eyes damp with tears, his heart pounding in his throat, a silent scream escaping his lip "Cas, please man, I need you Dean need's you"

You could hear the flutter of wings, when the celestial being landed, his face struck with concern "What happened?"

Sam glanced at the man in the trench coat, holding his brother in arms, "please, just help him Cas"

The angel approached his best friend, there was nothing quite as bad, as seeing him, in pain, placing his hand on Dean's shoulder and Sam's, the three men found themselves in a motel, Dean was still unconscious but breathing, Sam glanced at the angel, mouthing a "thank you"

Traces of the tears still evident on her cheeks as she recalled Dean getting shot, he was there, running towards her, he stilled cared. The four men watched her like a hawk, she cradled her legs in the corner, as if she's a animal trying too hide herself from the prey.

The van came to a stop, she knew something had to be done, so she took the knife she hid in her boots, covered it in her hand, she knew taking all four men was asking to much, so she'll have to isolate them. Take them one by one. The men double, maybe triple her size, but she aren't going down this way, without a fight.

As the two men , opened the door, she saw what looked like a barn, there where cages, with other people inside, seeing she's not the only one that needed saving, she slid the knife back in her boot. She needed more information than this, so she went with it. The man held her by her hair, threw her into a cage which had two other girls probably about round about 16 and 18, and much older man, in his late 60's maybe. Hitting the the floor, scraping her palms.

The older man helped her up, "you okay?"

"Yeah thanks never been better" the sarcasm rolled over her pressed lips.

A big guy, came standing against the cage, with a stupid smug on his round face. "When Ricky there told me about this little woman, who punched him, just for leaning against her bike, I knew I had too throw you in the ring"

She got to a standing position, striding closer, too this gigantic man, "What are you? A human trafficker , organ? What"

He laughed "None of the above, just a business man," he started walking away.

"What is he talking about?" Her eyes intensified "Does anyone know why we are here?"

She heard a man's voice coming from another cage, he was beaten pretty bad, "We are here too fight against each other, like the movie Condemned, apparently it happens in really life" he let out a defeated laugh. The whole barn filled with chatter, people gasping for air, as the initial shock took over. Those who haven't seen the movie, quickly got enlighten by those who have, the rich of the rich, places bets on the person, who they think will survive and it gets streamed on the dark web for everyone to watch.

There's a clock with a timer and the one who have killed all the other 'players' in that amount of time, gets to live another round. Some just cried, the others just quietly, sat in the corners of their cages, holding on too their knees, as if that's going to help, everywhere in that barn there's cages filled with silence and then those with chatter.

Then in the cage she's in, the two young teenage girls just hold on too each other, clinging for dear Life. The grey old guy, just kept mumbling too himself, "I can't kill these people" over and over.

Probably not the most polite thing in this situation but damn, it worked on her nerves, she's trying think of a solution, a plan something to save these people. But she was all out of ideas, to be honest, except maybe one, her back was against the cage, she silently started to talk to Cas, asking him to come and find her, but nothing, he didn't hear or he didn't want too, either way it was up too her.

Glancing down at the ground, then her leather boots she remembered the knife, she could use that too unlock the cage door, then start freeing the others, she took the last bit of hope in her hand, starting to put the blade in, turning and wiggling it, until she heard the click sound, she was overjoyed, she slowly opened the screeching steel door, every noise sounded as loud as thunder.

She could see the different keys, close to the barn entrance, almost walking on the balls of her feet, so that she didn't make a single sound, reaching for the keys, her fingertips barely touching it, she jumped into the air, grabbing ahold if it, she started making her way towards the first cage. Searching for the key that fits, the barn doors flung open, she recognized the guy, Ricky from earlier, and some other dude, who made her skin crawl , "Hey how'd you get out?" Ricky shouted.

"What you can see me?" She joked, something she always did, when she was very nervous.

The other guy ran to her, but she kicked him before he even could touch her, she still had the knife in hand, this big fella didn't say, much, he charged towards her, when that silver blade touched his arm, it made him squirm, "Oh that's just freaking lovely, what are you, a vamp? A wolfie?" She sneered

The moment he showed his, teeth she knew it was a werewolf, the other folks in the cages screamed, as they never saw such a creature.

"So this games rigged? Normal human being and creatures from the night, joining the game"

Surprised the wolf looked at her , a growl "your a hunter?"

Mischievous smile on her lips "why would you say that?" The wolf growled once again, as he charged towards your position, clawing your back, as he flung you against a cage, everything is swimming before her eyes, all you could make out was that she was flung against the beaten up man, he had the bluest eyes, which kind of reminded her about Castiel's eyes.

The wolf like creature came closer, looking for your blood, that's when the man stood up, black coat drenched in blood, unsure if it was his own, or some of the creature's his killed, the last time, his blue orbs, illuminated, bloodshot veins stretched like a roadmap in his eyes , his fangs came out revealing that his a vampire.

Laying there, you where left at the mercy of these two, but you were surprised when the vamp, took ahold of the wolf, smashing his head against the bars, he had this deep old time southern voice "leave her alone"

The man, glared at her and the vamp, picking her up, letting her sway like a sack of potatoes in the air. Ricky quickly came to open the cage, throwing her in by the vampire, "You can have her".

Knowing the open wounds made the situation worse, as it was like a magnet for the vamp, she tried too get up, too defend herself but, in that moment she was too weak.

The vamp, came closer towards her, his features returned to those of a man, his voice kind "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm Benny"

Shocked "Benny, like in Benny Lafitte? Dean's friend?"

He smiled, "I thought I recognized you, saw you once on his lock screen, asked him about this new women in his life, he told me you are the love of his life"

Smirking, "Yeah that's awhile ago I guess"

Confusion written all over his face, but before he could ask, the barn filled with gas, hearing Benny say "its to knock us out so they can take us to the next location" before you could find out more, the knock out gas started taking its toll.

His eyes flutter open, Sam and Cas both sharing the same concerned facial expressions, his voice croaky "what did something happen? Is.." struggling to form the words "is she gone?"

Sam spoke quickly, trying to reassure his big brother "No! We don't know, Cas can't pick up her location"

 Cas spoke "Wherever she's at, must be warded off with sigils"

Dean groaned when he sat up, "we have to save her, I can't loose her"

The three of them turned their heads when they heard the familiar phrase from Crowley "Hello Boys"

Dean immediately got up, pointing a finger at him, "Do you have something to do with her disappearance, tell me now!"

 Crowley gave him a sympathetic look, that lasted about an second "Squirrel I had nothing to do with her, but I know where you can find her"

Dean could not control the anger that intensified in his chest, he smashed Crowley against the nearest wall, his arm pressing against his throat his forest green eyes pierced the black ones, his voice low, and stern "Crowley if your messing with me, I will kill you, I swear I'll kill"

 With the flick of Crowley's fingers Dean flew across the room, he shouts, this whole situation clearly upsetting him as well. "She saved my damn life, why would I want something to happen to her, she cared enough to save me, ME!!!" Crowley shouted.

Sam hurried to help Dean up, recalling the saving Crowley is talking about, he was stuck in a devils trap, bounded with chains around his hands and neck, as some other hunter took out all his anger on Crowley, stabbing him over and over, when she came in, tried talking the man down, but he didn't see any reason as he thought Crowley was to blame for the death of his family, but he wasn't, he had nothing to do with it. As she was talking to this guy, she slowly started  to scratch the round red chalked circle on the floor with the heel of her boots, so that Crowley can break free, the line was finally broken, by clicking his fingers the chains shook loose and fell into a thousand pieces, the other hunter saw what she did, ran towards her, pushed the blade right through her upper torso. That's when Dean and Sam ran into, her for the first time, they where hunting the hunter who they thought was possessed but turns out he had such an amount of rage inside him, that whom ever got in his way, he'd kill.

Dean's harsh voice pulled Sam out of his thoughts, "Where is she Crowley"

"Well not only her , but other people as well, even Werewolves and vampires, you named it they have it, I know the location, but we have to go now," he clears his throat, "there's only one snag, neither can I nor Cass get in their, the damn sigils on the barns wall, wont let us through"

Dean's already halfway across the room, towards the door, "what are we waiting for"

In a matter of seconds the four of them stood In front of the barn on the pig farm, Sam is busy discussing a plan of action but Dean, already pushed the barn doors open, "what the hell Dean" the loudness in Sam's voice makes Dean face him, but he just shakes him off, not answering, too determined to safe her, he walks in, gun in hand, ready for anything, everywhere you look, all the cage doors stands open, not a single trace of anyone, something glistening on the floor catches his eye, its a rose gold chain with a heart shaped locket, he didn't need to turn it around, to see the engraved 'love you always D.W' to know its hers, he opens it anyways, glaring at the picture, both off them laughing, the way they looked at each other, you could feel the electricity, the love they shared, he folds it closed in his fisted hand, his eyes damp with emotion. He runs outside, punches Crowley straight in the face. Cas takes ahold of Dean's arm's demanding him to stop. The defeated look on his face is too much too bare for the three men looking at Dean, disappointed and unsure where to look next they start looking around the farm for clues, for something that can give him a glimpse of hope.

The strong sunrays, burning her eyes, as she opens them, the pain from last night's fight, let's her realize what's happening, she tries too move, but can't, searching for the reason, she sees the rope wrapped around her arms, and waist, too a tree, she tries too wiggle, to get out off the tight grip, that's when she hears a ticking of a clock tick-tock, tick-tock, it sounded incredibly loud, looking up to where the sounds came from, seeing giant speakers blaring the sound of a clock. A rough unpleasant voice spoke, game rules: "Everything goes, you can use any weapon you can find, to kill your opponent, and also remember the last one standing gets too live" he lets out a snotty laugh. "Oh yes, and contestants, we made the first kill very easy, if you can find contestant five, she's tied up and ready to kill, oh and give us a show" he laughs harder, then all of the sudden its dead silence, figuring she's contestant no: five, she'd better think of something to get out if this situation. Her words barely a whisper, "I don't even know why I try, but Cas are you there, Crowley, can someone hear me? Please I need someone"

The rustling of the leaves, let's her know there's someone, maybe it's Cas or Crowley, maybe its someone's who wants to take her as their first kill.

The large man with his black coat walks towards her.

He's voice hushed, "let me get you outta here"

"Oh darn, I'm so thankful its you Benny"

As he unties her, they hear rustling in the bushes, he hands her a knife, and they stand ready for action, back against back, three people came closer, it's the three she shared the cage with, she and Benny suggested they walk behind them, so that the two of them can protect them.

The further they walk the more danger they seem too run into, Benny takes the most werewolves, windigos and Leviathan's , as for you, you take most of the other human beings, who wants to attack the two teenage girls and old man.

You are bruised, beaten and torn up, unsure if your body is covered in your own blood or those of the enemies, you keep on going, grateful, that you had these people to protect, because if you had to be honest, if it weren't for them, you wouldn't fight so hard to survive, every now and then you get flashbacks of how Dean got shot, knowing it was fatal, you don't want to allow yourself to think that he could be really gone, there's this glimmer of hope that he might still be alive, maybe Sam helped him, maybe Cas or Crowley.

 Resting against a tree to catch your breath, you see the blood gushing down your arm, one of the men came at you with a damn axe, and in the fight he threw the axe towards you, pinning you against a tree, it must've been the adrenaline but you wiggled that axe, out of you arm, screaming while throwing it back at him, which ended up between his eyes.  You fell too your knees, the emotion welling up behind your eyes, you get caught off guard when someone or something picks you up in the air. A little weak, and confused all you can see is that your draped over the large man, with multiple tattoos shoulder, it didn't take long, too lose consciousness.

Dean could not believe what he just heard, both Cas and Crowley told him, that they heard you call out too them, they knew where you were, you where caught in Purgatory, damn Purgatory. What the hell is going on. It felt like someone took his very last breath. His been too Purgatory, It's no joke for sure, it changed him, the only person who made him whole was her, his sweetheart and now, now she's going through all of that.

Crowley spoke with his people, which revealed, that the one and only Dick Roman sits behind it all, with a connection in the real world, who takes normal people, of all ages just to make money, and feed his obsession of killing people.

His quiet, as he drives too the place where the portal opens to Purgatory, thinking about all the things there, so many monsters, dangers around every corner. He just hopes, his going to make it in time, she just has too be okay, has to be alive, squinting his eyes as he recalls what he had too do, too survive.

"Sweetheart you awake?" Rolling over too the right side of the bed, emerald green eyes looking back at you, "Baby?"

"Why do you look so surprised sweetheart"

"Uhmmm I'm not really sure, it feels so right yet so wrong" she smiled

Without a single word, Dean cups your face, places his lips on yours, its sweet, it's sensual, yet filled with passion. Breaking the kiss, you look at him, studying his face, the speck of hazel around the black pupil, the way, his freckles runs across his nose, almost like the milky way, the corners of his mouth, that is slightly curled in a smile, his plumps lips, that's slightly swollen from the kiss, the little stubble on his chin and cheeks, the way his jawline just kind of frames his picture perfect face, the way his deep smoky voice fills the air, and your body with a exhilarating energy, "Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked.

Your voice barely audible and brittle, "I just love you, I love you more than life itself"

 His voice calm, but certain "Marry Me"

Your jaw dropped, "What?"

He started to kiss your lips softly, his breathe hot as he said "Yes babe, I want you to be my wife?"

Searching his eyes your lips crept upwards into a smile, your voice sounded more brittle than you intended "Yes, yes Dean Winchester, I'll marry you"

The joy dancing in his green eyes, made you happy, even though a few stray tears rolled over your cheeks.

Feeling like your walking on cloud nine, then all of the sudden, you get this sharp pain in you ribs, unwillingly your eyes flutter open, gasping for air "what the hell?"

Looking around you, seeing your in some kind of room, chains around your wrists, hanging from what looks like the ceiling, clothing blood-soaked. Hair sticking to your face, sweat mixed with blood. Your feet barely touching the floor, it feels as if your arms is getting pulled out of their sockets if you move to much, your throat dry, realizing you must've been passed out, it wasn't really a dream, more like a memory, Dean did ask you too marry him, and then outta nowhere, two days later, you where left standing in the rain, the tears streaming down your face, unsure if it's about the way Dean left things, or the situation your currently thrown in.

Sighing, whispering to no one really "I'm tired, I'm so tired, I can't anymore and I don't want to anymore" head hanging down, looking at the floor, closing your eyes, wishing all this could be over, you heard heavy footsteps, laughter filling the dark air.

His voice smooth "All this turned out better than I could've imagined"

Confused you glare at him "okay, fine you win, get it over with"

Walking closer towards you, big smug on his face, "see, I can't deal with you yet, I know who you are" getting angrier now "I'll finally get my revenge, Dean will watch you die, he wanted to send me here, now I will take something precious from him"

Shocked to hear that he thinks Dean is still alive , she plays along maybe, it's her way out, Scoffing "Well sorry to hear you think he'd be coming to look for me, because we aren't together no more"

He laughs, "oh no, he is already here, searching for you, my men left him a little bread trail, as to where you are"

Furious now, you shake, trying to get loose, shouting "You leave Dean alone, kill me , but let him go please"

Clapping his hands together, "Ah, young love" he laughs harder "I am going to kill you, but Dean needs to watch, then I'll kill Sam, Cas and even Crowley, all while Dean has to watch"

Eyes wide, barely audible "They're all here"

His smug smile never leaving his face "oh yes, all of them, clearly they care, its so pathetic, you humans, you know that?"

Squinting her eyes, trying too fight the tears threatening to spill over, you care about all of them, more than you care to admit.  He just simply walks out of sight. The silence is deafening, the only thing she can hear is her heart racing, Dean's alive, he came looking for her. Somewhere between the excitement of hearing Dean's alive and the spine chilling silence, she lost consciousness.

 They hardly had too beat the crap out of some of the men, on their road to this half torn down, factory like building, all of them agreed, it felt like a trap, but Dean didn't give a damn, he needed to find her, save her and bring her home, he has been cursing himself internally, the whole damn way, if only he didn't freak out, but the moment he realized he wanted to marry her, be her husband, wishing he never said that, went on that hunt, saw how that ghost threw her against the wall, the pain she must've felt, he couldn't bear the thought of her getting hurt or worst getting killed, just because that's what he did, so saying goodbye, felt like the best thing to do, hoping she'll give up hunting, but he should've known better. He should have stayed by her side, he should have discussed his fears, the way he felt, but instead he went and broke her heart.

The four of them split up, there's to many halls, and doors too search, mostly the halls are filled with darkness, its filthy and disgusting, dried splattered blood on the walls, scattered human bones on the cement floors. There's scratching sounds coming from one of the rooms, the gun in Dean's hand is loaded, opening the door, unsure of what he's going to find, he's skin crawling as a bunch of rats, runs past him, some over his feet, slapping against his legs, whispering underneath his breath, "damn filth". He's heart, beating out of his chest, the more he walks in the darkness the more he can feel the darkness entering his mind, his heart, every grain of his very being.

He stopped in his tracks, the moment he saw her, hanging by chain's, her whole body is slumped over, hair covering her face, he can't make out if she's still breathing, for what felt like an eternity, he froze, almost too afraid to take a closer look. Striding closer till he's right in front of her, he gently takes her face in his hands, concern painted on his face, a burning pain in his chest, her beautiful face is bruised, and bloodied, her breathing faint, but still there, his voice hushed "Sweetheart, can you hear me"

Watching her open her eyes, was a beautiful site, she looked tired, a smile across her busted lips, "Dean,"

"Yes sweetheart I'm here, I'm sorry, I love you" he declared.

Sobbing now, "I... I thought I lost you forever"

"Baby, you'll always have me, always you hear me" he pleaded

Before she could answer a couple of men appeared out of the shadows. There were maybe six or seven, Dean got up, in a fighting stance ready to beat the crap out of them, he started punching and kicking his way, through the men, it wasn't until the last one hit the ground that he'd stop, blood splatters across his face, glancing over at her, he hears the familiar voice of Dick Roman "crashing the party are we?"

"Yeah well I didn't receive an invite so thought I'll invite myself" Dean smirked. He drew his gun, knowing it won't really help, but it's more a habit, "What do you want?" He questioned

Crude laughter fills the air, "I want you to pay Dean" he snapped his fingers, more men came running towards Dean, he tried his best, but he was one against, all of them, they over powered him, one clocked him against the head, in his unconscious state, they were tying him to a chair with chains, facing you.

It didn't take long before they were beating you, biting your lower lip, not wanting to give them the pleasure of seeing you in so much pain, you could taste the blood on the tip on your lip.

Dick Roman came walking towards you, dagger in hand, hoping he couldn't see the pain, and fear in your eyes, your eyes pierced his, he didn't say a single word, he pushed that dagger, through the skin and bone, wedging it between your ribs. Your scream filling the dark room.

Dean's eyes flung open, he's jaw clenched, he's voice angered and defeated "NO BABE" he shouted.

"Ah poor Dean Winchester" he laughed

Dean's green eyes, now almost black, "I'm going to kill, I promise you that"

Laughter filled the air, once again, it didn't last long though, surprised he glanced at them, Sam, Cas, Crowley and Benny, all four off them stood their bloodied and beaten, but ready to fight. All four of them started fighting and killing their way towards Dean and you, Crowley was the first one to stand next too Dean, his British voice almost inaudible "This belongs to you" he's face lit up with a sly smile.

Dean looked at him all confused, "I thought you threw this in the sea somewhere"

Crowley just shrugs his shoulders. The moment he placed that blade in Dean's hands he could feel the mark, turning a fiery red, the power pulsing through his veins, it didn't take long for the effects to take control of him, breaking loose out of the chain's, he faces Dick Roman, a smirk on his lips, he's features darkens. Taking that blade right too his chest, he kept going over and over, not stopping for a second, driving the blade further and deeper into his now lifeless body.

Sam tried to make him stop, even Cas, Benny and Crowley, but it didn't work.

Your voice brittle, revealing the pain, "Dean stop, please Baby"

Immediately stopping, he threw the blade down, running towards you, his eyes pleading, his voice soft "Sweetheart I'm so sorry" cupping your face, kissing your lips, holding you close to him, as Cas and Sam unlocks the chains, your body went limb, all you could feel is his hands holding you upright. Staring into his emerald green eyes, mouthing "I love you" the last thing you catches a glimpse off, was the light in his eyes as he replied "I love you too, Sweetheart, come back to me, come home please"

 It's been almost three years since that dreadful day, smiling now, if it weren't for Dean begging Cas to save you, you wouldn't be here baking your husband his birthday pie, getting ready for the barbeque, with your good friends Sam, Cas, Benny and yes even dear old Crowley.

Did you and the Winchester Brothers stop hunting, no, of course not, but the two of you have each other and that's all you'll ever need, whenever your lost, knowing Dean's your lighthouse showing you the way home, with those beautiful green eyes.

[minjisluvr]

salt | kang haerin

Flour shifted around the bowl like a sandstorm with no direction, a whirlwind of white powder gracefully cascading and unfurling. Haerin's clothes were covered in the white powder and her fingers were covered in a sticky mixture of butter and sugar.

Haerin wiped her sticky fingers on her apron and took a moment to survey the chaos in the kitchen. Flour covered every surface and utensil, and the sink was overflowing with dishes waiting to be cleaned.

You padded through the kitchen doorway, your eyes widening at the sight of the mess, your girlfriend in the centre of it all. Haerin looked up at you like she had just been caught at the scene of a crime.

"Who let you in the kitchen?" You chuckled lightly and moved towards her, attempting to give her a hug but stopping just short of the flour storm she was creating. "I heard some commotion in here and I got worried," you said teasingly.

"you weren't meant to see this," Haerin chuckled nervously, trying to brush the flour off her apron. You couldn't help but find her adorable, covered in flour and looking flustered.

"What are you making?" you asked, peering over at the mixing bowl.

"Chocolate chip cookies," she replied, her cheeks turning pink. "I was trying to surprise you."

"Well, you certainly succeeded in surprising me," you said with a grin as you moved closer, the flour crunching under your feet,  sticking to your socks. "But it looks like you could use a little help here. Mind if I pitch in?" You ask, grimacing at the thought of the cake she made you and forgetting the eggs.

Haerin nodded eagerly, smiling at your offer of help. "I would love that," she said, stepping back so you could take a closer look at the mixing bowl.

You took a spoon and scooped up some of the dough, rolling it between your fingers before popping it into your mouth. "Did you put salt in this?"

Haerin rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Of course I did, I'm not a complete amateur," she replied with a grin.

You spit the dough into the sink "How much?"

Haerin thought for a moment before responding, "Just a pinch, why?"

"Taste it." Haerin took a spoonful of the dough and tasted it. Her eyes widened as she immediately spat it out. "What did you do?" you asked as you watched her spit out the dough.

"I think I accidentally put in salt instead of sugar," Haerin replied, looking completely mortified at her mistake.

You took a deep breath and smiled at her, trying to hide your amusement. "Hey, no big deal," you said comfortingly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Everyone makes mistakes in the kitchen. Let's just start over and try again, okay?"

Haerin nodded, still looking a bit embarrassed. You take her hand and pull her towards you, leaning in close to her. She shied away, trying to cover the blush on her cheeks, but the flour sticking to her face was doing that for her.

You reach up and gently wipe the flour off her face with your thumb, admiring the way her skin felt beneath your touch. "You've got a little something," you said with a smile, before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss against her cheek.

Haerin's breath hitched at the sudden touch of your lips on her cheek. She could feel the heat rising from her chest to her face. "Yeah, you too," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach as she wiped flour that had transferred from her cheek to the corner of your mouth.

You couldn't help but chuckle at Haerin's response. She was just too adorable, with the way she blushed so easily. "Thanks," you said, placing a kiss on her forehead.

[sunshine-for-serotonin]

ashdjskfjk book!erik with someone who loves petting his hair and kissing his forehead (despite the height difference..)

Of course, anon! Both a Drabble and headcannons included!

Novel!Erik:

Are you trying to put him into cardiac arrest?

In all seriousness, Erik is completely melting at your affection. Kissing his face and petting his head is the same type of maternal affection Erik was completely and utterly starved of, so by doing this, it’s a guarantee he will start to cry.

It should also be noted that your actions will trigger Erik’s vulnerability to an extreme degree, and in turn may trigger him into using the title mommy when referring to you, so if you are uncomfortable with him using the title ���mommy’ or the French translation ‘maman’ outside the bedroom, make sure to set boundaries once he’s in a more stable state of mind.

Honestly if Erik is feeling particularly needy, he’ll make grabby hands at you and say something along the lines of “Maman, please! Erik needs kisses, Erik needs your love! Please mommy, Erik’s been so good!”

Besides kisses on his lips, Erik loves it more than anything when you kiss him on his nose bridge before it cuts off, there’s just something so soft about you kissing him there that makes him fold like a deck of cards.

Erik honestly loves the height difference between you two, he takes pleasure in knowing that he could hide you away from the world with his frame alone, and on top of that you taking control of him and marking every intimate inch of him despite being so much smaller than Erik? He enjoys it much more than he probably should.

One of the reasons Erik likes to lay on top of you so much is so that he can feel every part of you against him, he can cover you like a blanket without any part of you not touching him! Plus it’s much harder for you to escape that way The minute you press your lips to his unmasked face, Erik immediately cradles you in his arms and settles you on the nearest comfortable surface with himself on top of you, blubbering like a child as he seeks out more of your touch, desperation for your love and attention leaking out of every part of his body. It takes only a few seconds for Erik to start shifting around again, still wailing, before he sits up briefly to remove the clothing around his torso until his chest is bare. Wasting no time, Erik immediately burrows himself underneath your top, relishing in the feeling of your warmth against his cold skin as the material stretches to fit both of your figures, yet compresses and pushes him closer to you all the same. He needs more, Erik needs more! Erik needs more kisses! You can taste the salt on Erik’s face as you continue to trail kisses all over his disfigured flesh, paying special attention to his cheeks and the bone right above where his nose should have been. Cradling his face in your hands, your thumb rubs over Erik’s lips, a small whine leaving him as he takes the digit into his mouth to suckle on. And so, after stealing a few kisses from your lips, Erik drifts off, both exhausted from his emotional outburst and comforted by your presence and body heat, a small whisper of ‘I love you’ making itself known to your ears.

———————————————————————————

@sloppyzengarden

[therealvinelle]

I can't justify it, but I feel like you have at least one really good recipes for soup!

My recipe is: Sautee half an onion, diced, in a pot with a tablespoon of butter and a tablespoon or so of thinly sliced celery until it all starts to sweat. Add three large peeled and diced potatoes. Cover with water and boil until the potatoes are soft and then smash with a big spoon or a potato smasher. Add salt and pepper to taste, reduce heat to a medium, chop in some kind of white fish (halibut is best but so pricey), and wait until fish is falling apart and fully cooked (about 20 minutes). Garnish with whatever you'd like, but heavy cream and little bits of bacon can both kick this up a notch. This is anon's fish chowder recipe!

Oh I have many, it depends on what you want.

How about, to celebrate Norway's Minister of Health and Care Services being found guilty of plaguarism a few minutes ago (I'm STOKED), we do a celebratory recipe.

Minor warnings for awkward language as I rarely read English cooking recipes and am not familiar with the linguistic conventions.

Mussels in saffron soup

You need:

2 kg mussels

2 dl dry white wine/apple juice

1 finely chopped clove of garlic

1 finely chopped shallot

Saffron

Parsley (optional)

Thyme

3 dl cream (the creamy kind! Not sure what product that would be in English. The kind you whip to get whipped cream.)

2 tbsp finely chopped chives (for decor)

All the quantities are optional, consider them guidelines.

Wash and scrub the shells. Steam them in white wine, remove from heat once they open. Keep the broth, and let simmer with the garlic, shallot, parsley, and thyme. Add cream, then saffron. Let thicken.

For the sake of not driving your guests to sticky fingered homicide: separate the mussels from their shells (if the shell is closed, very broken, or the flesh is so yielding it feels uncooked, discard the shell. White or pale color is completely fine, as are very small or very large mussels) and serve in a bowl with the soup, keeping a few empty shells for decoration and scatter the chives across the top for a finish. You then print a photo of Ingvild Kjerkol standing outside her house saying "It's not plaguarism, it's text similarities! That's what happens when you use similar methodology." to the entire country, and love life.

God appetitt!