#welcome to my crispy mind

[lady-ashfade]

Hi I would like a slice of blueberry pie with Alicent Hightower please? ✨

Sworn To Me

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Yandere!Alicent HighTower x Fem!Reader

Bakery Event is closed

╰･ﾟ✧☽ summary: the queen is caught between the whispers of her favorite lady in waiting.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 969

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: Yandere behaviors, Possessive, Crispy cole is not with her, This set before Viserys dies, I struggled with this one, manipulation, me loving women. 

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ 🥧 ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

“Excuse me,” you mumbled and moved around the crowded hall, a pair of chatting ladies blocking your path. They sent you a strange look but moved non the less, so you continued with your way.

Life at the keep has been wonderful and very welcoming. The opportunity became clear when your father moved to kingsland at the request of the hand, you followed him in hopes of a better future. Maybe a handsome suitor will fall at your feet for your hand in marriage, yet you were offered something else in the mean time. A chance to be a Lady-In-Waiting for The Queen herself.

Alicent couldn’t keep her eyes off of you since she first laid eyes upon you at the way you carried yourself like sunshine. How beautiful your hair curled, how intoxicating the smile on your lips made her feel. The world seemed to not have touched you yet as you still sang of happiness and innocents. Something the gods must have wished for her — to keep you safe from harm and the cruelties that plague the realm.

As you made your way down the halls you made yourself walk a little faster, trying not to trip down the stairs with your skirts lifted in your hands. You nodded to every lord you passed by, never noticing the lingering eyes flicker down your frame. Once down with the steps you make your way to the old chambers were Your Queen resides. You smile at the guard beside the door. He stepped aside and opened the chamber door with you close behind him.

“My Queen,” you bond your knees and nod your head towards her. She turns from her gaze from out the window to you, your dress matching the same shade of hers.

The knight walks out and shuts the door behind him. Placing your hands together you walk closer and a bright smile forms. Around the queen sat a large selection of sweets that aways called your name and delicious wine made from peach’s, always making you feel good.

Alicent looked between the pastries you laid eyes upon and then back at you, and courageous smile appearing on her face before grabbing a plate herself. “Good morrow, Lady Y/n.” she twisted her tongue while trailing herself closer to the silver trays.

“Good Morrow, Your Grace. I hope the night was kind to you,” you asked sweetly.

Once she gathered a few small cakes she took a seat on the cushions and watched you while you did the same. How comfortable you seemed to always be in her presences. Or the bounce in your steps when you saw sweets, no matter the occasion.

“Fair enough I suppose, as it can be as of late,” she sighed and swirled the cup of wine to her lips. Taking a set across from her you begin to devour the sweets on the plate, your eyes brightening with eat taste.

Alicent kept her eyes on you and continued to watch you eat while something rooted inside her chest and made it sting. Rumors. Horrible whispers have spread to her ears about you — About a betrothal — something she couldn’t let happen. Having you married to someone else, it simply wouldn’t do. A man would crush your spirits, never show you the love you deserved nor treat you like she did.

“Tell me, have you anything important as of late to share?” Alicent questioned while the light made shades on her face and her eyes piercing into you.

Nothing of importance come to mind as you spent most of your time at her side, so not much has happened since the hours of leaving her to rest. “Nothing of note, Your Grace.” she only hummed in reply to think of something you could know.

“You’d never leave my side, would you?” Alicents voice stayed calm and honeyed with her words, and eyes curious above the cup now leaning into her lips.

You rushed to shake your head to deny, jumping almost at the edge of your seat to convince her otherwise.

“No Your Grace. I would never dream of leaving your side as long as you wish as such.”

“Then there has been no indication of a lord asking for your hand?” Alicent questioned you. Nothing to her words spoke to you, nor held any truth to them.

“There has been no word of any engagement of mine, My Queen I assure you. Whoever told you these lies simply must have misheard or played the feddle of lies.” You asserted. The next second you watch her rise to her feet, her dress falling off her lap and a beautiful shade of green you always recognize with comfort and warmth. Alicent stood just before you, and right above you and her difference in height now forced you to look up at her.

Alicent took her fingers and grabbed ahold of your chin. The mood shifted in the air as her presences changed to a unrecognized one, and slight fear dwelled within you. “I couldn’t have someone steal you away, your sworn to be by my side. No man can have you,” she harshly tightened her fingers. A darkness filled her eyes as she stared down at you, and the pain of her hold made you flinch — you had no choice but to obey.

“Yes, My Queen.” You quiver.

She let go and made a cooing sound and dropped a few inches downwards to take you into her arms in acts to comfort you. She rubbed your back with her warm hands and tried to soothe your state.

“My sweet girl, I appreciate your loyalty. I only want what’s best for you. As I am the only one who understands what you need.” She whispers before placing a kiss onto your temple.

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Guess, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Summary: Rafe knows that Y/N can easily change her mind about what she eats and he can plan for it easily.

A/N: This is inspired by this post.

Masterlist

One of Y/N’s favourite things about Rafe is that he understands her inner workings perfectly and he is so considerate with her. He learned earlier on in their relationship that she can be indecisive about what she wants to eat or how hungry she really is. He thinks it might be a women's thing because his sisters are the exact same way. It’s why it didn’t take long to learn that fact about his girlfriend. “Angel. I’m going to get some sushi and ramen to eat. Do you want anything?” he offers, coming to lie down beside her on his bed. She looks up from her textbook with a shake of her head, “No. I ate lunch with Daisy before I came over.” Rafe tilts his head at her and raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You know I don’t mind getting you something, Angel,” he verifies. She nods her head, “Yep, I’m all full and ready to study.” “Okay. I’m gonna order my food and wait for it downstairs. Kelce needs to talk to me about something,” Rafe informs her, getting up from the bed with a kiss on her forehead and heading downstairs.

———

Around ten minutes later, Y/N’s stomach starts to rumble and her mouth starts to salivate at the thought of crispy karaage chicken and the tender ramen noodles. Her mind can no longer focus on the words she is reading as it becomes consumed by the need to eat. She hopes that Rafe hasn’t ordered the food yet even though he said that he would. Maybe Kelce distracted him so he forgot. “Rafe,” she calls to him. “Rafe.” This time a little louder so it garnishes a response. She hears his footsteps slap against the staircase, being able to recognize the way he walks after months of dating. Once she sees him at the front door, she gives him a sheepish smile, which she hides behind her book. “Is everything okay?” he worries and goes over to her side. He drops to a squat beside her. She gives him a hopeful look, “Did you order your food yet?” A massive grin grows on his face and he brushes her hair back with his fingers. “Let me guess, Angel. You want something to eat now.” She gives a small nod and her smile drops because based on his reaction, she assumes he already ordered it. If he didn’t, then he would’ve asked her what she wanted to get immediately. He confirms her suspicion. “I did,” he states with a small frown. “But I guess it’s a good thing that I already got you something to eat.”

She looks up at him with a grin, “You did? What did you get me?” Her voice is so soft that it warms Rafe’s heart. “I got you karaage chicken ramen and some of the sushi that you like,” he tells her. Excitement floods her and she wraps his arms around his neck. “Thank you. Thank you so much. You know me so well. That is exactly what I wanted,” she exclaims, pressing her lips all over his face. He chuckles at her reaction and kisses her lips, “You’re welcome, Angel. Why don’t you take a break from studying and wait with me downstairs? I think our food should be here soon.” With Rafe, Y/N’s every want and need will be anticipated by him. She’ll never have to worry about anything. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[watchmegetobsessed]

UNOFFICIAL

A/N: i know, it's still not the 3rd part of one summer BUT at least it's something new! it is also based on a dream i had about my work crush lol

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

SUMMARY: You and Harry are in a temporary phase of bein unofficial, but you don't mind it, especially the tiny moments you share when no one is looking.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

The pub is buzzing as always, the atmosphere is lively, warm, loud but not too much, most of the tables are occupied by the same usual people, glasses, ful, half full and empty are scattered all over every surface. The bartenders are working relentlessly behind the bar, one drink after the other lands on the counter.  It’s not exactly the hottest spot in town, but there’s a core circle that knows and loves the personality of this place and it brings them back every week.

Your group is part of those people, you’ve been spending Friday nights here for as long as you’ve been working at the university, which has been for over two years now. You were fresh out of your PHD studies, very excited to start teaching as a professor finally and who you are lucky enough to call your friends now welcomed you at the school with open arms. 

Sarah was the first one you connected with, women in STEM have a deep, instant bond, especially in a male dominant field such as physics. She invited you out for lunch on your first day and introduced you to the rest of the group. Mitch, the quiet but loving husband, Jeff who speaks enough for Mitch and himself as well, Pauli, the energy bomb and then there’s Harry.

It still makes you smile when you think of the first few months of knowing Harry. You were convinced he didn’t like you, because he seemed timid and tense in your presence, almost avoiding having even the simplest conversation with you. One night when the two of you ended up sharing a cab home from the pub and you had just one too many beers you questioned if you’d done anything to upset him.

He looked shocked and explained that he’s just a bit slow to open up to new people and he was also a bit taken aback by you and how extroverted and bubbly you were. He apologized if it all came off wrong, you laughed about it and it was already forgotten.

Since then, you’ve gotten the closest to him. In every way. 

Sarah is telling you about a funny encounter she had with a student this week, she always has the weirdest stories, you’re listening to her, but your sixth sense also kicks in and as the door of the pub opens you know it’s Harry even before looking there. 

He runs a hand through his hair as he looks around, his glasses fogging up a bit in the hot air of the place after the crispy, chilly october evening he has walked through. He was supposed to leave with all of you but he had to do a last minute consultation with a student, so he just told you to go ahead and he would join you later. 

You’re already smiling when he finally spots you and slaloming between the groups of people he finally reaches your table.

“Man, I thought we would have to go back and drag you out of your office,” Jeff teases him as he shrugs his coat off and takes the last empty seat by the table that’s right next to yours. His knee bumps against yours, your eyes meet and you force yourself not to turn into a giggling mess.

You and Harry have been dancing in a kind of a gray, unofficial zone for a while now. After the rocky start your friendship bloomed easily, but since last semester it’s been more than that. You have no idea when or how, but slowly, you just knew you were more than friends. It started with meeting without the rest of the group, having lunch or dinner, making plans, just the two of you, endless conversations, building a connection you’ve probably never had with anyone before. Secret glances, small touches, you fell for him without even realizing. 

The past month it’s been intensifying, but you still haven’t talked about it, not even after you kissed a few weeks ago. It happened at your place, so naturally and smoothly, you were cooking together, he had opened a bottle of wine and you were just having a good time, moving around each other in your small kitchen until you ended up pressed up together, noses brushing and he just leaned in and kissed you. It was soft and tender, warm and familiar even though it was a first. Like you were meant to be kissing all along. 

Then you just went back to cooking, had dinner and later that night when he left he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth and that was it. Neither of you felt the need to talk about it, but it’s been definitely hanging there between the two of you, you just haven’t had that last nudge to finally fall over the edge and right into this new adventure.

“Sorry, tried to be as quick as possible,” Harry chuckles as he looks around, his eyes settling on you last and you see a bit of sparkle in his eyes that definitely has your heart skipping a beat. 

With Harry’s arrival the group is finally complete and another fun Friday evening starts. You ventilate about work and students, then the boys play darts for a bit, Pauli wins as always and then Jeff challenges Sarah and Mitch to play foosball and see who’s the better player and the rest of you are watching their battle. The place is pretty packed, you’re standing by the foosball table and Harry is right behind you, nursing his second beer of the night. People are passing by towards the toilets and back to the bar, it’s noisy in there, but not too much. Harry’s presence behind you is warm and calming, his chest touches your back whenever someone walks past behind him, but he always pulls back, though you wish he would just stay. 

A guy chooses to squeeze past between you and the table, making you move back, bumping against Harry and his hand gently grabs onto your waist, the touch of his palm instantly spreading a buzzing warmth in your body. You fit his front so perfectly and you want to stay like this, but you can already feel his hand moving away, but you grab it and pull it back.

There’s just a split moment of hesitation in him before his whole presence softens and he melts against you, his hand resting on your hip as if it belongs there. 

You can’t help the smile that tugs on your lips, especially when he shuffles a bit behind you, his nose brushing into your hair and maybe you’re imagining it, but you swear you feel him kiss the back of your head.

Across the table Pauli just smirks as he catches what’s happening while the Rowlands are playing so determinedly like never before, but he keeps his mouth shut and returns to the game without a word. 

Harry’s fingers are gently moving, stroking you as you stay like that, until the end of the game, which Sarah wins. You want to pout when Harry lets go of you because you all move back to your table, but you swallow it back. After the ruthless game Sarah offers to buy a drink for Mitch so they head over to the bar and Pauli soon stands up as well.

“Jeff, come out for a smoke with me,” Pauli pats his shoulders.

“I’m good,” Jeff nods at him, oblivious to the fact that Pauli is trying to give you and Harry some alone time.

“No, you need to come. I wanna talk to you about something.”

You just laugh under your breath as you hear Jeff asking Pauli what’s so important as they make their way outside, leaving you and Harry alone at the table. Neither of you dares to look at the other, not because it would be weird but because you know the pull would be way too strong. 

Instead, Harry reaches over, his hand finds yours in your lap and he laces his fingers through yours, resting your intertwined hands on your thigh. For some reason you feel the urge to finally try to address it for the first time.

“Is it still something unofficial?” you ask and dare to look at him. 

“We can make it official,” he shrugs with a tiny smirk and you just want to climb over and kiss him stupid when he is being so cheesy.

“I kind of like it being unofficial. Because… it’s just ours for now,” you admit. 

There’s nothing you want more than to explore whatever it is that’s between you and Harry, but this phase is so comfortable and only yours, you want to be selfish just for a little bit more and keep it to yourself.

Keep Harry to yourself.

“Unofficial it is,” he chuckles and ignoring the buzzing crowd around, he pulls your hand to his lips and kisses the back of it before letting go of it as Sarah and Mitch approach the table. 

For the rest of the night, it’s all just stolen glances, tiny touches underneath the table and no one comments on just how close the two of you are sitting. It’s kind of funny how obvious it is to all of your friends, but they let you stay in your little unofficial bubble just a little longer. 

You share a cab home and Harry kisses you on your doorstep before getting back into the car. In the morning he texts you if you want to have dinner together and of course you do. You spend the weekend in your bubble, but soon enough, you slowly dance out of the unofficial phase and by the end of the semester everyone knows that you’re a couple.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[the-duchess-of-domination]

Pizza Delivery Boy

i’ve always loved classic porn tropes with a feedism twist.

imagine ordering five pizzas for delivery—a margarita, a Hawaiian, a pepperoni, a sausage and bacon, and a cheese. its late into the evening and your trap has been set. you wait patiently to strike.

within 30 minutes you hear a knock at your door. you open it, and standing before you on the welcome mat is a pudgy twenty-something wearing a backwards hat and a tight t-shirt donning the logo of your local pizza joint. he’s balancing all five pizzas in his arms, and he seems hasty to dump them onto you and get his tip.

“thank you,” you say, taking the pizzas. “i can’t believe nobody showed. what am i going to do with all this pizza?”

though apathetic and moody, he asks what you mean.

“i was supposed to be having a party tonight so i ordered all this pizza. nobody showed, so now i’m stuck with it. i hardly have any room in my fridge!”

he doesn’t take this bait, and instead tells you the total. you pull out your wallet and give him two twenties. while he’s calculating the change, you have a suggestion.

“hey, tell you what. do you want some of this pizza? i’d hate to see it go to waste.”

he shakes his head. “thanks but no thanks. im sick of pizza.”

“how could anyone be sick of pizza?”

“i eat it on my breaks. i go home smelling like pizza. i get dough under my fingernails. it’s lost its appeal.”

“oh…i see. well, if you change your mind…”

he drops the change into your open palm, pondering. it’s a slow night after all, and admittedly he’s feeling a little peckish. someone called off, forcing him to work twice as hard. maybe eating something isn’t such a bad idea.

reluctantly, he takes you up on your offer. once he’s entered the threshold you invite him to make himself comfortable and have as much pizza as he likes. he rolls his eyes a little at your incessant kindness. some people are just too nice. he peeks into the boxes on the counter to see what he wants. he decides that pepperoni sounds the most appealing.

the cheese pull is sublime. the pepperoni is curled and crispy. there’s just enough sauce. for whatever reason, it’s hitting the spot. he decides another slice couldn’t hurt.

as he’s grubbing, you drag a chair to the center of the kitchen.

“sit down if you like. im sure you’re exhausted.”

he nods. doing deliveries and making the pizzas has given him weak Bambi legs and quite the appetite. he takes a load off and opens the box of Hawaiian.

“a lot of people don’t like Hawaiian.” you say. “what are your thoughts? do you think fruit belongs on pizza?”

he shrugs. “i dunno. it’s my favorite, but i guess it’s weird when you think of it that way.”

he gobbles the slice and wipes his greasy fingers down his pant leg. he looks like he’s about to get up, but you stop him.

“well, i for one don’t like Hawaiian at all. you should have some more, since it’s your favorite. here—“ you round the counter and give him the entire box. “go ahead. it’s all yours.”

score, he thinks. he is warming up to your hospitality. he downs three more slices before deciding he is on the verge of uncomfortably full.

“what’s the matter? not hungry?” you ask.

“uhm. starting to get full. y’know i should head out, my boss is going to wonder where i am—“

“nonsense, you just need a little help—here, why don’t i feed it to you?”

you pick up a piece of Hawaiian. you hover it in front of his mouth. he looks stunned.

“what?”

“go on then. i can’t eat all this by myself.”

looking unsure of himself, he bites into the slice you’re offering. you gently coax the entire slice into his mouth.

“there you go. you don’t even need to use your hands. tell you what, why don’t i tie those up for you?”

you ambush him and bind his arms behind his back. his feet come next.

“comfortable?” you muse.

he squirms in the chair. “hey! what’s going on?”

“don’t worry. just relax.” you open the box of Hawaiian. “you’ve still got four slices here. open wide!”

you stuff his cheeks full of pineapple and ham. his cheeks are so full his groans are muffled

“good, isn’t it?” he thrashes and turns his head away when you hover another slice in front of him. “now, that’s no way to treat your host. keep still.”

you force him to finish the Hawaiian pizza. by the end he’s left panting, his already tight shirt riding up his pale belly.

“ohh, no more!” he begs. “i can’t take anymore. my belly hurts.”

you smile and laugh. “well, what next? margarita or sausage and bacon?”

looks like he’s going to have to call into work tomorrow.

[the-universal-sun]

owww, can we get Little Ford crying about Stan too? Could be pre portal or post weirdmaggedon guilt!

(if you want to ofc)

Sorry this one is so short! My minds been places today, but I wanted to work through my ask box. Sorry everyone for taking so long, by the way! It’s just been a long couple of weeks!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Space Junk is any Human-made object orbiting Earth that no longer serves a useful purpose…” Ford read aloud to Dr. Mittens from his “Fun Fact About Space!” book that Stan gave him earlier. He doesn’t know if his brother stole it or paid for it, but he didn’t really care, he likes the book either way, and Dr. Mittens did, too. He turned the page, starting to read about comet make up, when Stan walked in with lunch. Ford immediately perked up with a big smile as Stan put down his plate. Stan always knows how to make lunch that he’ll eat, this one was an extra crispy grilled cheese, cut into squares, he doesn’t like triangle sandwiches, not anymore.

“Thank you, Buddy,” Ford says, nodding Dr. Mittens’ head along with his words, setting his book down, he doesn’t want his soon-to-be greasy fingers to mess up the pages.

“You’re welcome, Buddy, thanks for using your manners.” Stan says, tweaking Ford’s glasses with his usual slight smirk. Stan’s dressed super casually today, just a new tank top and his boxers, staying cool in this hot summer. Ford’s still wearing a turtle neck, just thinner than his usual one, the heat even getting to him on some level.

Stan turned around and Ford saw it. That mark on Stan’s shoulder. The burn. The Brand. The brand that he did, that he pushed his brother into all those years ago. There on his shoulder was the evidence that Ford hurt him, hurt his Buddy, his Stan. Ford’s breath hitches, loud enough he guesses for Stan to look at him. He can’t read the look his brothers face, but he thinks he might be worried. But how could he be worried when Ford was worried!? He frantically pats the space next to him-after moving Dr. Mittens to the table-motioning for Stan to sit down.

“Poindexter, are you alright, there? You-ah- just kind of stopped. Was it the grilled cheese? Did I mess it up? Man, I’m sor-Whoa!” He barely listened to Stan, pushing his shoulder until he had a clear vision of the burn in his shoulder. It looks so bad, so dark. He did that. He feels feels his eyes prick with wet hot tears, he’s such a bad brother. He’s supposed to be a big brother, but here he is, reading childrens book books to a stuffed animal! He feels his chest feels tight, his throat feels dry and all he wants right now is curl up in Stan’s arms and listen to Bill Nye! But how can he do that, knowing how badly he’s hurt his brother!

Ford can feel his chest stutter in-in-in something! But he can’t name what he’s feeling because he can’t think hardly! He’s aware enough to know that he’s sobbing into Stan’s back, against his scar. He feels Stan turn around and wrap his arms around him, hauling him into his lap and speaking against his ear.

“Shh, Sixer, it’s okay, I’m okay. The scar’s fine, it’s healed and it doesn’t hurt. I’m not mad about it, I’m not mad at you. I could never be mad at you, you’re my Smartypants, huh?” Stan whispered in his ear, slightly bouncing his knee in an attempt to calm him.

Ford didn’t even realize he mentioned the scar. Did he? Stan probably guessed why he was crying, his brother was good at reading people like that, Ford never could. Stan was such a cool brother, Ford was lucky to have him. He sniffles, trying to subtly wipe his eyes on Stan’s shoulder, but guessing by the chuckle, he was caught. He swallowed his spit, but his throat still felt dry.

“B-but it’s m-my fault. The hurt on your shoulder, I did it.” His ears feels hot, embarrassed of his higher pitched tone and bad grammar. He can’t help it when he’s little, and Stan’s never made fun of him, but he’ll still feel that shame on occasion, the shame of going against societal acceptance.

“Hey now, what did we agree when we talked about that? We both fu-uh messed up. I mean-Stanford, I pushed you through-“ Stan pauses and winces, not wanting to bring up the portal incident, not when Ford’s little, and not when he’s already upset. Man, he’s really messing this up. “Th-the point is that we both have made mistakes, we have both Burt each other. But most importantly, we have said sorry to each other, okay. So it’s literally no harm and no foul. So please, Buddy, dry those tears, and let’s eat that grilled cheese, hm? I’ll even feed you so you can read without greasy fingers!”

Ford giggles as Stanley tickles his chin, his words calming him a bit. Stan always knows how to cheer Ford up, he loves his brother so much. Ford knows he’ll still be down for the rest of the rest of the day, and he’s sure Stan will know too. Usually, when Ford gets upset like this, Stan will let him cling, let Ford follow him around. He’ll wrap Ford up in his weighted blanket, and just sit with him, let Ford just exist with no words needed.

Stan sets Ford aside, plops Dr. Mittens and Ford’s book on his lap, and opens it back to Space Junk, and picks up the plate with the grilled cheese.

“So, tell me about Space Junk, Poindexter. Whatzit? I’m a assumin, Junk in Space?” Stan jokes as he holds up one half of the sandwich to Ford’s mouth.

“No! Well, yes! But, Buddy, it’s more than that, right Dr. Mittens?” Ford laughs as he looks at his stuffed animal, taking a bite from the sandwich poking his mouth. He chews and swallows before beginning to read the page again.

“Space Junk is any Human-made object orbiting Earth that no longer serves a useful purpose…”

[diejager]

Saw your requests are open.😊😊

Can you please do some fluff for my boys Alejandro and Rudy (I just need some fluff right now). They can be together or separate,(don't matter to me).

Please and thank you. 🙇🏼‍♀️🙇🏼‍♀️

Cw: fluff, tell me if I missed any.

The house was loud and lively, bustling and full of life despite being the only one home, but you weren’t truly alone. You never were. You had a chatty parrot, a pretty thing with blue and green plumage that loved to sing and purr around the house. She hopped and jumped from one perch to the next, occasionally returning to her nest or resting on your shoulder. And you had a ball of sunshine running around, barking and huffing with flappy ears and golden fur that glowed under sunlight. Lola and Milo were your sweet companions when you were home alone. 

They were bright, Milo keeping watch over you while Lola flew and helped you pick things from spoons to pots. She was your little helper and him, your protector, but they never got in your way. Especially when you were busy, mixing and stirring, preparing a meal for a family under the warmth of the setting sun, it’s golden ray lighting you up in an ethereal hue. It made your house feel so welcoming. 

“Lola, spoons on the table, please!” You called out to the blue-headed parrot, sliding the drawer open for her and returning to the steaming pot.

“Spoon! Spoon!”

“Thank you, Lola.”

You let her set the table, spoons and forks beside the plates and bowls you’d placed while you finished up the broth. You wanted it done by the time they were home, a warm, homemade meal after a tiring day at work was the best welcome. You had everything done and ready, desert cooling in the fridge, cups cleaned and dried for drinks, bread still warm and a salad fresh and crispy. All that was missing was supper and your hardworking lovers. 

You often found yourself staring at the hanging picture around the house, eyes straying to stare at Rudy’s gentle grin and Ale’s smug smirk. Although you saw them every week, the simple thought of them made you melancholic. You called, you texted and you spoke, but you still missed them. It was always a busy night when they came home after a long week at base. Gone were the bland meals. Gone were the stressful and restless nights alone. Gone were the posturing and expectation of a leader. 

At home, Alejandro and Rudolfo were lovers, men whose hearts were given to each other as they gave it to you. There weren’t any expectation at home, only a warm welcome and loving kiss. Last week’s kisses still lingered in your mind, the soft pressure of their smooth lips pressing on yours, the taste of moss and lavender. The same fragrance that filled your home, a mix of cinnamon and moss, lavender and ocean, and your rosemary and lilac. It made home feel like home.

You thought so fondly of them as you stirred the last of the meat in the broth when you heard a car drive into the driveway, the rumbling of the engine cutting off and doors closing. Milo scrambled to the door, panting and tail excitedly wagging, and Lola flew off your shoulder with a happy “Home! Home!”. You turned off the stove, hands patting down your apron, smiling brightly on your way out the kitchen.

“Corazõn,” Rudy pressed himself against you, his arms wrapped around your waist, “I missed you.”

He kissed you softly, murmuring sweet words. You ran your fingers through his hair, sliding to caress his jaw and down to his nape to hold him firmly. You were unwilling to part ways with him just yet, kissing until you were both breathless, pulling away with gasps and pants. You both grinned dopily, drunk off each others.

“Where’s my kiss, Amor?” Alejandro mumbled against your shoulder, kissing it up until you turned your head and met his lips, arching your back to him.

He had both of you in his embrace, tugging you both into him in a steady cradle. You parted and he leaned over you to share the taste of your lips with Rudy, both groaning with you pressed between them. You missed this, you really missed being between them, spooned on both sides while they shared their love.

“I have supper ready, ” you sighed blissfully, hands grabbing their wrists.

You pulled them down the hall and into the kitchen, where a meal awaited you three —a love-filled and happy moment under the setting sun. 

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @haven-1307 @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

[velnna]

Hi! This may be self-intuitive but I wanted to ask, do you mind if people take inspo from your lineart? Like for example this... crispiness you have going on with the dot-like/pencil-ish shading? It looks like the perfect way to not leave a lot of empty space in a drawing.

No problem at all with that! The only thing I'm not super happy about is when people use my (non referenced) poses as direct references, or near traced work. Everything else you're welcome to play with ^^

[tea-moon-ster]

Warmer Hands

have some comfort, post-elections fluff. my mind and heart are with all people who voted for a better future.

the morning after the elections, everyone hangs out at Coops' house. characters belong to @lumosinlove.

Remus couldn’t stop scrolling through his phone. The news were all the same, the results wouldn’t change. He wasn’t even paying attention to what he was reading anymore. He sank deeper into the couch and into Sirius’ hoodie, not sure on what to do with himself.

“Mon Loup, stop looking at your phone,” Sirius called from the kitchen. “You know it won’t help.”

His tone was gentle, as were the hands that found his shoulders. Sirius left a peck on his head. “Come on. Our friends will be here soon.”

Sirius had thrown himself into productive mode. He’d cleaned the house, made breakfast—not that Remus had been hungry— and sent a text to the team’s group chat. Hang out at ours, everyone welcome.

Practice had been cancelled, a short email by Arthur saying they would meet for tomorrow’s afternoon practice, but that the stadium was open for whoever needed to skate and keep their mind off…well, off the whole thing.

The doorbell rang.

Sirius opened the door, and the Potters came in. Neither of them looked great, and James threw himself in a hug with Sirius.

“I’m gonna need a lot of hugs, today,” he informed.

Sirius smiled and returned the hug. “No problem, mon ami.”

Lily made a beeline to the couch and sat next to Remus without a word. Her hands were cold from the crispy morning outside, and she stuffed them inside Remus’ sweater. He groaned but let her do.

They were taking all the blankets out when the doorbell rang again. James peeked through the window. “Cubs!”

Remus opened the door to a Leo with closed eyes. And a little snore.

Logan nodded and led the goalie to the couch, sitting him down and taking his shoes off. Finn looked at them and then at Remus, shrugging. “He was up all night, couldn’t sleep. It’s not mixing well with, well, everything else.” He tilted his head to look at Leo again, now curled up in a cocoon on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and with his head on Logan’s legs. He was sleeping already. Finn smiled. “But he insisted to come. Said it would help.”

Finn deposited a tote bag on the kitchen counter. “Marshmallows, cream and hot chocolate mix. I’ll get started once everyone is here.”

James made an approving sound. “I knew we kept him around for a reason.”

Lily threw a pillow at him. “Leave my fellow ginger alone!”

The doorbell rang again, and in the atmosphere that had settled, Remus already felt lighter.

“We stressed baked,” Natalie announced as she went straight to the kitchen to leave a few hot trays. “Oh, hot cocoa!”

Kasey had a few trays of his own, and left one to Remus. “We have cinnamon rolls, cookies, pumpkin muffins and brownies.”

“God, I love you,” Logan sighed. “Hand me something. I’m on pillow duties, can’t move.”

Natalie brought a plate of pastries to the couch, and Logan immediately attacked a brownie. Even Remus felt like he could eat something now.

The house soon filled with chatters, more people and the incredible smell of hot cocoa. A marathon of comedy series and old cartoons started, perfect background for cuddles and naps.

“I can’t believe it’s happening,” Lily said suddenly. Natalie made a soft sound and hugged her.

“I can’t believe I know people who voted for him,” Logan muttered, keeping his voice down as he stroked Leo’s hair.

 “I can’t believe I have family members who voted for him,” Remus said. He snuggled closer to Sirius. “Like, am I a joke to you?”

“The important thing is that we’re here, and we have each other,” Sirius replied, in full captain mode. “We’re a family. We chose this family. We’ll stick together and stay safe.”

Finn nodded. “We can organize charity events. You know, to help who will not be safe or supported.”

Kasey nodded. “Yeah. we have the means to support and be listened. So we’ll do that.”

“Preach,” James raised his mug.

There would be time to organize that. There would be time for thinking of next steps, implications, and their future. But for now, this could be enough. Comforting each other and taking their time.

At the end of the day, Remus didn’t feel great. But he did feel better with the reassurance that, one way or another, he wouldn’t be alone in this.

[scintillasofbeomgyu]

ᯓ★ from me to you — chapter five: the island

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader. genres: slice of life, social media au, body swap, fluff, angst. wc: 2,2k. warnings: language, they’re talking about the bloody nose incident lmao, there are anxiety episodes, death and murder is used humorously, umm i can’t remember what else, lmk! an: these past few chapters have been a little dark, but bear with me!

“Happy moving day, (Y/n)!” Soobin and Taehyun cheer, raising their drinks with big smiles stretched across their faces.

“Welcome home, (Y/n)!” Yunjin joins in with a grin to match.

“Jjang!” you happily clink your cans together.

After spending the entire afternoon moving your things from your old apartment and into Yunjin’s, and then painting and furnishing your new room, you and your friends settled in the living room for a well-deserved dinner break.

You are gathered on the carpet around the round table where a feast befitting a king is prepared: crispy fried dumplings, soft fishcakes, spicy tteokbeoki, saucy black bean noodles, fresh pickled radish and ice cold cans of mountain dew. The delectable aroma wafts into your nose and makes your tummy rumble.

Taking a big slurp of your bowl of black bean noodles, you squeal in satisfaction with the warm, savoury taste. Soobin chuckles beside you, pushing the hair from your face as you take another cheek-filling mouthful. You can’t remember the last time you ate this well.

“Slowly,” Soobin says with an amused tone to his voice, grabbing a napkin to wipe the sauce from your chin. “You need space for everything else.”

You gulp the food down and poke your tongue out at him before taking another big bite. Soobin only laughs, nods and hums along with you, shifting the fishcake dish closer to you.

Taehyun takes a sip of his drink and sighs, his fondness of you making the corners of his lips pick up. “I would ask if you’re feeling okay, but from the looks of it you’re perfectly healthy.”

You give him an enthusiastic nod. “You know me. It’ll take more than a bloody nose to keep me out of commission.”

“That thought is not as comforting as you think,” Yunjin snorts.

You had been meaning to get new sneakers, but this pair had served you so well you were reluctant to do so – even with the new tear in the edge of the sole. You shrug. “At least I caught Taehyun on his break.”

“If anyone needed catching, it was you,” He laughs, popping a saucy rice cake into his mouth. “The nurses have had enough of you. Do you know they’ve nicknamed you Wonderwoman?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you shrug, feeling a pleased with yourself.

“And she did have someone to catch her. Didn’t you, (Y/n)?” Yunjin smirks, wiggling her eyebrows.

Your cheeks burn red and you hang your head in embarrassment.

Most people would have simply thought you were silly and walked away. And if there was a chance anyone did help you, your rambling would have pretty much done the trick of chasing them away with annoyed glares. But this person was different. He, as you presumed he was, had the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. They were a brown so dark and shiny they resembled tapioca pearls. His eyelashes were long and pretty, your absolute envy. And with those gorgeous eyes, that pushed up into little crescents when he smiled at you, he looked at you with a fascination that made your heart leap.

He was so handsome. “And I almost broke my nose in infront of him!” you cry in shame, smacking your head, the scene replaying over and over in your mind.

“Oh now the broken nose concerns you?” Taehyun wheezes, shaking his head.

“Oh my god,” Yunjin says suddenly, banging her soda on the table and grabbing your shoulders, her eyes wide. “What if this is the man of your destiny?”

“Destiny?” Soobin snorts. “What are we, five?”

“And I don’t have time for dating anyway,” you sigh, eyeing the last two dumplings, but thinking better of it. You sit up and consider her with a raised brow. “Were you not the one who convinced me that men are trash?”

“I mean – I’m not usually a male apologist, but since you’re the only one in this friendship attracted to the species – I’m just putting it out there. You’ve never dated anyone before. Plus you said he was kind and pretty. The only person you’ve said that about is—” Then she snaps her fingers and gasps. “What if it was Beomgyu?”

You become animated and your eyes sparkle with interest. You grab Yunjin’s shoulders. “You think so? Really?”

“Want me to ask the cards?” She grins, unsheathing a mystical-looking indigo tarot deck from her bag.

“For the love of God,” Taehyun sighs, flinging a chopstick at Yunjin’s head. She yelps in pain and glares at him. She tries to throw it back at him, but he dodges effortlessly. “She didn’t even see his face. And he was wearing a mask, now he’s suddenly a kpop idol? What if he’s a serial killer? Stop enabling her.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he freezes. But then he shakes it off and continues eating.

“You’re probably right,” you sigh, pouting in defeat.

Soobin knocks the side of your head gently and places the dumplings in your bowl. “Just eat your food, silly. We still have to finish getting your room ready.”

Yunjin rolls her eyes. “Disbelievers.”

The finishing touch to your new room is one of your most prized possessions: a photo of you, Soobin, Taehyun and Yunjin outside a club in Hongdae four years ago. It was the night of Yunjin’s first big crowd, the day Soobin’s uncle made him manager of the café, the day Taehyun passed his first year with flying colours, and the day you had quit medical school and moved out of the dorms.

It was the first time you had truly become best friends.

It was the first time you felt like you had a family.

You polish the glass and place the frame in the center of the vanity Soobin had gifted you for the move. The smiles on your faces fill your heart with warmth and pride.

“Can you believe it has been four years?” you ask, smiling.

When there is no reply, you turn around to find your friends fast asleep. You pull out your phone and snap a photo, trying as hard as you can not to laugh.

Taehyun is curled up like a kitten at the end of your bed, Yunjin is laying in the middle of your bed on her back with her limbs splayed in all directions, and Soobin is laying across the pillows, his shirt riding up, tangerine paint on the tip of his nose, snoring softly.

You pocket your phone with a soft chuckle and decide to leave them be. Carefully removing your thick brown cardigan from under Taehyun’s head, you step out into the apartment and close the door carefully behind you.

Without the commotion and company of your friends, Yunjin’s place, that you have been to many times before over the years, felt strange.

The big, open space that was the kitchen and the living room, with its high ceiling and white downlights, its shimmering tiled, marble and metal surfaces, felt cold and alien and a little overwhelming. And as you walk through to the tall floor-to-ceiling window, pulling your cardigan tightly over your arms, feeling quite out of place, you wonder if it is really okay for you to stay here.

You loved Yunjin, but the fact that she was letting you stay here paying less than half the rent made you uneasy. You knew her well enough to know she meant every word she said, and you would never doubt her or her intentions.

You just… felt incompetent.

In the four years since you dropped out of college, what had you accomplished?

You had a dream, a vision, you were determined to work hard towards. You were moving to Seoul to live life on your own terms and make the future you wanted with your own hands.

But it was pure luck that you managed to find the old, small flat going for the rent it was. You had to beg for every job you had and had worked yourself to the bone every day for four years, only to receive setback after setback.

The space between you and your dreams seemed to become greater and greater with each passing day, until they were now faintly watching you in the distance from the far away shores of an island you’d never reach, across the dark waters of an ocean that continued to drag you further and further into its depths no matter how hard you resisted and fought.

What comes next, after this? Should you go back to school? Were you going to work part-time jobs until the end? Or were you going to keep mooching off your friends? Were you going to end up having to move back home, admitting absolute defeat?

Why is whatever I do not enough?

More and more thoughts and insecurities cleave into your brain and drive a hollowness into your chest until you can’t breathe and tears are burning in the corners of your eyes.

But before your anxiety can best you any further, you pull your earphones from your pocket and plug them in. You fight the trembling in your hands and force your eyes to focus on your screen. Maze in the Mirror begins to play in your ears, the song and its lyrics soothing your pain until you can breathe again.

My shoulders are only here

So you can rest

So that you can rest

You hum along, pulling your legs into your chest on the living room floor. You close your eyes and lean against the window, allowing its coolness to bring you comfort.

The dream you’re having, the one where you’re being consoled by the man with the beautiful brown boba eyes, who’s arms feel strong and soft and warm and safe, fills and mends the cracks in your heart until it is stolen from you as the song comes to an abrupt stop and your phone rings.

You read the caller ID and your throat dries.

You watch the phone ring and ring, until it stops and rings again.

A text pops up on the screen, and you feel the long, sharp, needle-like fingers of darkness latch onto you once more, eager to haul you off the cliff into inescapable torment.

But you won’t let it. You are not who you were four years ago.

You step out into the apartment building and make sure to hear the door lock before you continue down the hall to the elevator. A walk is good. A walk is what you need to clear your head. Maybe a cold red bean ice cream, too.

In the middle of typing a text to your friends to let them know you’re going to the convenience store at the end of the street, your phone rings again. Your nails dig into the palms of your hands, and for a split second when the elevator doors open, you consider picking it up.

At that same second, you step out into the lobby and bump into a hard body and your phone is sent clattering to the floor.

“Sorry!” you exclaim quickly, picking it up and bowing your head in apology. But when you look up, no one is there.

You spin on your heel and find the person standing in the corner of the elevator in dark clothing, with not a single sign of remorse. He grumbles, “Look where you’re walking.”

You glare at him. Before the doors can close, you stick your foot in and give him the most loaded smile you can muster. “You should take your own advice.”

Shaking his head, he starts toward you. You do not budge, until it appears he is not coming to you but for you. You shriek and close your eyes, jumping back. When you open your eyes again, the elevator doors are closing and he is back in the far corner with the same unbothered look about him. You scoff. “You jackass!”

You flip him off through the doors and stomp through the lobby angrily, growling in frustration when you get out onto the street.

“Who the hell does he think he is! I mean, we bumped into each other!” you yell, to yourself mostly, as you start toward the convenience store, making other pedestrians steer clear of your path. “And that face mask? Does he think he’s an idol? He could never compare to my kind Beomgyu,” you declare, pulling out your phone to take a look at the sweet, handsome man that was your lock- and homescreen.

Upon retrieving the device, however, you gasp and the shock causes your body to freeze.

There is a long crack from one corner of your phone to the next, small little fissure cracks meandering off from it to the rest of the screen. You jam the on button repeatedly, but it does not budge.

Your eye twitches.

“That damn jerk! You better hope we never cross paths again, idol wannabe, because if we do,” you laugh manically, “you’re so fucking dead!”

***

Beomgyu bangs the door behind him and doesn’t even bother to kick off his shoes before he enters the apartment.

He pulls off his mask, his jacket and his hat and throws them to the floor.

He slams open the bathroom door and climbs into the shower, turning on the cold water and letting it run over his head.

His breathing is heavy and labored.

His chest is numb and his heart, shattered.

He falls to his knees on the floor and sobs into his hands.

Why is nothing I do enough?

***

prev. | mlist | next

life is rough for (y/n). after dropping out of college and moving away from her family to live life on her own terms, she struggles to keep up with the fast-paced city life in Seoul. she becomes a fan of the kpop idol, choi beomgyu. while his content keeps her motivated to strive for her dreams, she can’t help but wish she had the same luck he has had. but not everything is as it seems.

taglist: @yoonzinoswife @ameliesaysshoo @bgomtori @woncheecks @seodami @thing89 @stormy1408 @boba-beom @binluvsu @lillynval @nothingwithoutgyu @gyuville @tinhq @soobnuuy @031323o @damn-u-min-yoongi (send an ask to be added!)

scintillasofbeomgyu © all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, alter, or repost in any way.

[avanatural]

I Don’t Mind

Summary: Four different hunts. Four shared motel rooms, four shared bathrooms, four shared beds. And four times that Y/N doesn’t mind getting closer to Dean.

Pairing: Dean x female Reader

Category: Fluff, comfort, angst

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: Mentions of blood, stitches, nudity, cursing

A/N: Here’s some Dean fluff sprinkled with comfort and angst. I hope you enjoy! Wanna be added to my Dean Winchester tag list? Send me an ask! ❤️

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Hunt number 1

Dean exited the bathroom in a pair of boxers and an AC/DC t-shirt, his hair still damp. Waves of steam followed him, curling into the dusty motel room air. “There’s nothin’ like a hot shower after a hunt.”

Y/N looked up from the book in her lap. Her hair was still damp, too, leaving a few wet spots on her tank top and shorts. She’d gotten comfortable on the bed while her hunting partner had taken his turn in the bathroom. “Hm-mh. I’m glad it was just a regular salt-and-burn.”

“Yeah. Same ‘ere.” Dean’s subtle glance dropped to her bare legs for a second. It had been years since he’d shared a motel room with a woman. It was different from what he was used to, but in a good way. Her company was kinda fun. She was easygoing, gorgeous to look at, and he swore she smelled like cotton candy and rainbows. Tearing his gaze away from her soft skin, he cleared his throat, and with a raised eyebrow, gestured toward the bed that Y/N was resting on. “So, uh… Sleeping arrangements?”

They had one bed and one couch. The plan was to go for twin beds, but the Sleepyhead Inn was the only motel in town, and of course, all the other rooms were taken.

Y/N’s eyes went back to her novel. She put the bookmark in place and closed the book while she suggested, “Just join me.”

“You sure?”, he wondered out loud, squinting at his hunting partner.

“You’re never gonna fit on that couch. And my back still hurts, so I don’t want it, either,” she said, placing her novel on the nightstand. She stared back at him when she added, “I think the mattress is big enough for two.”

Dean strolled to the free side of the bed, taking his time, giving her a chance to withdraw her offer. But even as he pulled back the cover, she kept quiet. “You got about…” He tilted his spiky-haired head. “Three seconds to change your mind. ‘Cause once my head hits that pillow, I ain’t moving.”

“I don’t mind,” she assured him, lips jerking with a smile, “Besides… I like a good cuddle.”  

“Huh. Would you look at that.” He broke into a surprised grin, emerald orbs sparkling playfully as he climbed into bed, “A bloodthirsty hunter, who just fried two ghosts extra crispy, asking for a snuggle.” Dean might have been joking around, but on the inside, he kind of admired her open approach to affection.  

If there was one thing that hunters didn’t get to do a lot, it was to share tenderness with someone else. It was too dangerous. Scarier than the monsters that prowled the streets. Proximity and affection could get you attached. And attachment was a curse. Dean had been cursed one too many times throughout his life. Still, he couldn’t deny that Y/N’s lighthearted ways tempted him.

She let her head drop back against the headboard. “Don’t judge me,” she retorted through her slightly embarrassed smile, “It’s a lonely life.”

A layer of melancholy draped itself over Dean’s heart, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. “It is, isn’t it?”, he breathed while his back sank into the mattress.

“Yeah,” she sighed and wiggled down the bed, lying down next to her hunting partner.

“So, uh…,” Dean trailed off and lifted his arm. It hung in the air awkwardly as he created space for Y/N against his torso. “You wanna… Or…?” God, he sounded like a fourteen-year-old making his first move at the movies. He had no idea how to initiate cuddling unless it was a follow-up to sex.

She snuck toward him with her sheet. Her body met his, and she curled up against his side. His skin radiated a welcoming heat through his t-shirt, providing a homey sensation.

With slow and careful movements, Dean closed his arm around her. By day, the huntress was so fiery and fierce, but now, by night, she was tame and trusting. In his embrace, she almost felt like a little dove whose wings could easily be broken. “This okay?”

“Hmm,” she hummed, her cheek meeting his shoulder, “Perfect.”

The two of them went against the general hunter code and ate up each other’s warmth. Soft breaths were passed back and forth. After a few minutes of relishing Dean’s clean scent, Y/N asked, “Hey, did you use my body wash?”

“Uh… Yeah.” The hunter used his brother’s stuff on a regular basis, without needing to ask. Old habits died hard, apparently. “Forgot mine. The motel’s body wash smells like a toilet rim block.”

A chuckle left her lips, her rib cage bouncing slightly against his side. “It does!”

“Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t worry. I’d much rather my cuddle buddy smells like cotton candy than a lemongrass toilet.”

He laughed along with his new friend, setting fire to Y/N’s heart with those warm, rumbling tunes.

“Do you wanna grab some breakfast in the morning?”, Dean wondered out loud. His breath got stuck in his throat when she suddenly looked up, her eyes peering at him through her lashes. His free hand acted of its own accord and gently brushed some hair away from her forehead. “Like, proper breakfast?”

“I’d love that.” The corners of her mouth jumped up for a second. Then, her nose wrinkled apologetically. “But I gotta leave first thing.”

“Oh.” Dean’s stomach took an insecure little leap. He didn’t want to part ways with Y/N just yet. Attachment was a curse, but she was too great of a spellcaster for him to resist.

“A friend of mine called and told me about another case in Michigan,” she explained, her palm finding his firm chest. “Looks like it’s a shifter. I promised him I’d take it.” Absentmindedly, she let her fingernails scrape across the red letters on his worn-out t-shirt.

“You need backup?”, Dean found himself asking, “Shifters are sneaky sons of bitches.”

A heart-stirring smile appeared on her face, emerging from deep within her soul. “You wanna tag along? Fight another monster with me?”

He shrugged his shoulders with feigned nonchalance, making her body move along with his. “Yeah, why not?”

Hunt number 2

“Y/N, I’m just gonna grab-“ Before Dean could finish his sentence, his voice faded in his throat. He stopped in his tracks abruptly, his feet rooted to the floor. His chest expanded with a huge bashful breath.

He‘d entered the bathroom to get his phone, to slip in and then slip back out just as fast.

Instead, he was met with the sight of Y/N’s oh-so-smooth skin. She’d just stepped out of the shower, fully nude, about to grab her towel. Yes, it had definitely been a while since he’d shared a motel room with a woman.

“Oh, shit, sorry.“ Dean averted his gaze, studying the white tiles on the floor. But the sight of her bare body haunted him, still flashing before his eyes. “I was just gonna get my phone…” With his cell phone raised as evidence, he stepped back, about to leave the bathroom.

The two hunters had arrived in Michigan to hunt the shapeshifter. New hunt, new motel. Y/N’s earlier words still ghosted through Dean’s ears. “One room, please. With a queen.” She’d deliberately booked a motel room with a single bed for them to share. To say that he was thrilled was an understatement.

The muscles in Y/N’s abdomen contracted as she released a melody of hushed laughter. “I don’t mind,” she said, her tone every bit as earnest as it was casual, and wrapped her towel around herself.

Dean took a discreet peek at her body to make sure she was covered, then met her gaze with a questioning glint in his own. “You sure?”

“It’s fine,” she insisted and brushed past him, “I’m sure you’ve seen your fair share of naked women.” Mischievously, she glanced at him over her shoulder as she snuck back into their room, about to grab some clothes.

“Well, yeah…” His short nails scraped against his scalp as he followed her out of the bathroom. “But that usually plays out a little different.”

She stopped rummaging through her duffel bag and quirked an eyebrow. “You mean you don’t walk in on them while they’re taking showers?”, she teased.

“I’m not some creep…,” he declared, partly joking, partly defensive, “God, please tell me you don’t think I’m some creep.”

“No, I don’t,” she chuckled, softly shaking her head, “Seriously, don’t worry about it. I’m used to sharing these rooms. Happens all the time. Let’s just get ready to hunt that shapeshifter.”

Dean nodded to himself and repressed the flirty urges that were daring him to compliment her body. “Yes, ma’am,” he quipped, lips pulling back to reveal a grin.  

Hunt number 3

"Hey..." Y/N extended her hand across the motel bed, her fingers reaching for Dean's biceps. "You okay?"

He didn't respond. The older Winchester brother was propped up against the headboard, his stare attached to his hands, which were resting in his lap. His arm shrugged itself out of her reach.

She crawled back to her side of the bed, mumbling, "I'm sorry." Her heart thumped against her chest one, two, three times until she finally made a move to get up.

"What are you doing?", Dean inquired, removing his gaze from his hands. His green eyes narrowed, getting used to the lights in the room, slowly breaking free from tunnel vision.

"I'm giving you space." She took her sheet between her fingers and pulled it off the bed. Her feet pattered across the room, headed for the couch, which she was intending to prepare for herself.

"I thought you didn't like sleeping on the couch,” he muttered.

When Y/N looked back at Dean, she found a riddle. An enigma of a man. The muscles in his body were tight. His hands were balled into fists. His jaw was locked, the key to unclench it nowhere in sight. His eyes and lips, however, told a different story. His eyes were enlarged with a tinge of soft worry. His lips were parted by a silent plea.

"It's okay, Dean," she said, "I don't mind."

"You never do,” he grunted out, teeth suddenly gritted.

"What?”

Dean got up from the bed, scoffing, shaking his head. "You don't mind sharing a room. You don’t mind cuddling. Or sharing your body wash. You don't mind if I see you naked.” With each sentence, he took a step closer to her. “You don't mind sleeping on the couch. Tell me, Y/N, what do you mind?" With each passing word, his voice took a step higher on the ladder of tones.

By now, he was close enough that she could see a bluish vein bulge in his forehead, as well as the slight tremble of his chin. “I- Dean, what brought this on?”

"You’re just gonna act normal?”, he demanded, “You don't mind that another victim died? Because of… Because I didn’t-” His rough voice died, losing all its strength. His hand started to reach up to point at his own chest, but it crashed back down, snapping against his leg, defeated.

Y/N’s face fell, the tension escaping from her muscles as she realized what exactly his issue was. “That wasn’t your fault,” she spoke, pained by the raw sorrow he radiated. “You couldn’t have known that there was another wolf.” Her hand met the curve of his t-shirt-clad shoulder. “You did everything you could, Dean.”

A prominent line settled between his shuddering brows. His nostrils flared softly. Tears shimmered in his beautiful eyes. “Then why do I feel so bad?”, he croaked, the noises that spilled from his throat sounding broken.

“Because what you saw back there is beyond most people’s imagination.” She squeezed his shoulder and closed the distance between them. “Even if you’ve been hunting all your life, it doesn’t get easier. It doesn’t get less painful. Especially not with a heart as kind as yours.”

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. Not because he thought she was lying. No, quite the opposite. He knew she truly believed her own words. But he would never be able to agree with her, and that hurt more than anything.

His body startled when he suddenly felt a caring pair of arms around his waist. In return, one of his own arms folded around Y/N. Her cheek pressed against his chest, her body melting effortlessly against his figure.

“You’re a good man, Dean,” she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. She applied pressure to his back, pushing him against her.

His eyes snapped shut and a single tear escaped his hold, burning down his cheek. His mouth quivered as he circled both his arms around her. Through their embrace, he realized just how much he wanted Y/N by his side. She could always tell what he needed. And she gave it to him unconditionally.

He placed his chin on top of her head and took a deep inhale, breathing in the compassion she was providing. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

“Anytime.”                    

They held each other for a few more seconds, lost in their very own world. When they broke apart, Dean cleared his throat before speaking up. “I don’t mind. If you… You know, wanna…” He pointed his thumb at the motel bed, blabbering out an incomplete offer that didn’t need much more explaining.

As their heads hit the pillows that night, a strange combination of sadness and comfort drifted through the undusted motel room atmosphere.

While Dean curled into a ball on his side of the bed, Y/N slid forward in the dark, inching closer and closer until her front pressed into his back. Her arm looped around his waist, her hand coming to rest on his chest.

Almost immediately, his palm covered the back of her hand. For once, Dean allowed himself to give away control. He let her hold him all night. He let her presence soothe his aching soul as she slept soundly against his back.

Hunt number four

“Ah, fuck,” Y/N whimpered as she stepped out of her blood-stained pants. She gasped at the pool of blood that seeped from the stab wound in her left thigh. With a troubled grimace, she clawed at one of the chairs in the motel room, steadying herself.

It had been a damn long day for Y/N and Dean. She’d called him for backup on a demon case. The black-eyed bastard had possessed innocent people, ruined their lives, and even taken a few.

“How’s it look?”, Dean asked, hurrying back and forth across their room, grabbing different supplies to stitch up Y/N. His breathing was labored, torso moving fast with concern.

“Peachy,” she hissed through bared teeth.

As he passed her, he caught a glimpse of her wound. Truth be told, it was messy. There was no way to sugarcoat it. Her entire upper leg was smeared with blood.

Dean put down a towel and spread the supplies across their mattress. “Come on, sweetheart.” Sneaking his arm around her waist, he escorted her to the bed.

With his support, she hobbled forward and sat down on the towel. Her leg was stinging with sharp waves of agony.

Dean sat down on his knees in front of his hunting partner. He took the warm washcloth he’d prepared and started wiping it along her unscathed skin, taking away the blood stains surrounding her wound.

Y/N’s eyelids fluttered. She felt dizzy. The washcloth left a warm sensation on her skin, but it did little to soothe the harsh pinches that were shooting through her leg.

Dean’s hand, hardened from years of hunting, gently held the back of her knee. “You know, my little brother,” he told her, focused on her thigh as he cleaned it, “He’s a pro at this. He could stitch you up in no time.”

She gulped down the lump in her dry throat, making way to express her gratitude for his presence. “I think I’m in good hands.” There was no other person whom she trusted as much as Dean to take care of her.

His gaze hiked up her face. The corners of his mouth rose in a tight-lipped smile. Y/N was covered in blood, sweat, and exhaustion, and yet, she still radiated hope and trust. She still shone bright. “What did the janitor say when he jumped outta the closet?”, Dean suddenly inquired.

“Wha-“ Before she could finish her question, he pressed the alcohol wipe to her wound. She groaned out a bunch of profanities.

“Supplies!”, the kneeling hunter called out, finishing his bad joke.

Y/N’s groan turned into an amused chortle. Her scowl broke into an annoyed little grin. “You’re the worst.”

“Ha-ha, I know. Don’t you worry, I got enough stupid jokes to get you through this.”

“Oh, thank God,” she taunted, sarcasm dripping from her voice. Secretly, though, she didn’t want him to stop lifting her spirits.

Once her wound was cleaned, Dean reached for the needle he’d prepared. “Alright, next step his is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

Every muscle and bone in Dean’s body told him not to continue. Causing Y/N pain went against his very nature. He knew he was going to feel every pinch and every slide of the needle just as much as she would. But it had to be done.  

He took a deep breath, one that Y/N subconsciously copied, and went on, “What did Blackbeard say when he turned 80?”

“I don’t know, what?” As she was speaking, he planted the first stitch, pushing the needle through her skin. She closed her eyes and pushed her teeth together.

“Aye, mayte,” Dean imitated what he thought to be a pirate’s voice. Instead, he sounded like a combination of an old grandpa and a demon being exorcised.

She snorted through her suffering. With every stitch, every push of the needle, the joking hunter coaxed another chortle, snort or laugh from her. He was her distraction. Her anchor. He was everything she could have asked for.

“Alright, last one,” he announced finally, yearning to be done with the stitches. His bloodied fingers trembled slightly. Honestly, his knowledge of flat jokes did not just serve to comfort the ones he had to stitch up. It was a coping mechanism he’d developed primarily for himself. To keep himself calm when his loved ones got hurt. ”How do you make holy water?”

“I know how,” she murmured, “But I’m pretty sure that’s not the answer to your joke.”

For the last time, Dean pushed the needle through Y/N’s tender skin. His heart clenched at the throaty wince that she released. “You boil the hell out of it,” he revealed, eager to lift some weight from her shoulders.

And for the last time, Y/N was guided through the pain by his humor. Her voice was weak, but the chuckle that spilled from her throat was clearly audible.

“There you go. Good job, sweetheart.” Dean lifted his head to smile warmly at his hunting partner. Then he grabbed the scissors and cut the thread, relieved to jump past the finish line of his gruesome task. “All done.”

“Thank you.” Placing her pointer and middle finger under his chin, she tipped up his head to make him look up at her again. “Really,” she added, her Y/E/C eyes threatening to suck him in. She’d called him for backup on this hunt. And Dean had driven for hours to meet up with her, when he could easily have sent someone else.

“We’re partners,” he declared, honest jade-colored orbs staring up at her, “I’d never leave you hanging, you know that.”

She flashed her teeth at him, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Right back at you, Winchester.”

Spurred on by the bubbly feeling in his chest, Dean opened his mouth, but no words came out, and so he shut it again. Instead of speaking, the two of them opted for exchanging a smile with each other.

When Dean sat up, about to grab the bandages that were scattered across the bed, Y/N took the initiative.

“It’s okay, I got it from here,” she said, turning her upper body to get the bandages instead. She didn’t like leaving the entire responsibility to others, even if they were kind enough to offer.

“Y/N, Iet me finish-“ he began to protest.  

When he leaned forward, she suddenly turned to face him again, prompting their mouths to bump into each other. Two sets of lips grazed each other clumsily, tempted yet refusing to pucker – a sweet accident.

Dean pulled back, instinctively giving her some space. She glanced down at her thigh, dragging her lower lip through her teeth.

“Sorry,” he apologized. The softness of her lips still danced across his mouth, poking his plump flesh with delicious tingles.  

“I don’t mind,” she repeated her signature line, the smile reaching her eyes despite the dull ache that was still vibrating through her leg.

For a split second, Dean’s eyebrows wrinkled. Then, reassured by Y/N’s beaming face, his cheeks dimpled with a grin of his own. His hand settled on her unharmed leg and gave a squeeze.  

The pads of her fingers reached out to trail along the side of his jaw. She got distracted by his boyish smirk. By his plump parted lips. By the faint freckles that lined them. By his pearly white teeth. “I, uh…” Her voice dropped. Her common sense had long since left the building when she confessed, “Fuck, I think I’m catching feelings.”

“I don’t mind.”

Now, it was Y/N’s turn to wrinkle her brows. “You don’t?” Her confession had been more of a warning. More of a ‘you might want to stay away from me.’ She expected Dean to shy away. But when he didn’t, her heart both dropped and blossomed simultaneously.

“No.” Dean’s irises bounced from side to side, observing her reaction, hoping he was doing this whole thing right. “‘Cause I’m catching feelings, too.”

Y/N glanced Dean’s hand on her good leg. There were some cuts and bumps on the back from fighting off the demon. His palm sent a surge of comfort through her body. “Damn, this shit it nerve-wrecking,” she blurted, speaking out exactly what he was feeling. Romantic feelings were everything but a hunter’s average small talk topic.

“Yeah,” he laughed shakily, shortly blinking at the floor, “Tell me about it. So-“ Before he could say any more, he felt a pair of soft lips on his mouth and a warm palm on either side of his jaw. A low hum rumbled through his throat. He tilted his head to gently rub his mouth against Y/N’s.

Their kiss was short but sugared with sweet affection. It scratched an itch that had been building up for weeks. The two hunters broke apart with a quiet smacking sound and bashful little smirks on their mouths. “Awesome,” they whispered simultaneously against each other’s faces.

Dean pressed another lasting kiss to Y/N’s alluring lips. Then, while his fidgety fingers retrieved the bandages, he simply asked, “Pizza or burgers?”

“What? Ohh, I get it.” She held still as her hunting partner lifted the back of her knee to wrap up her wound. “No chick-flick moments, huh?”

The Winchester bobbed his head up and down, showing his agreement. “Pick your poison,” he said while he carefully looped the bandage around her thigh, “I need to get you more painkillers. Might as well get some food.”

“Burgers,” Y/N decided, head spinning due to blood loss and rushes of dopamine, “And when you get back, I think we should choose our next destination.”

Dean bit the inside of his cheek, the corner of his mouth curving upward at the prospect of another shared hunt. “Yes, ma’am.”

Tag list: @eevvvaa @waynes-multiverse @myloversgone @deandreamernp @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @flamencodiva @alagalaska @libre1rose8 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @woodworthti666 @deanwanddamons​ @awkward-and-indecisive @snowlovespie @desimarie12 @golden-hoax @leigh70 @mimzy1994 @impalaslytherin @globetrotter28 @spnwoman​ @mrsjenniferwinchester @may85 @100percentserenity @tmb510 @roseblue373​ 

[thereceptioniststyles]

Wandering Hands

We walked into Sonny's diner together, our hands intertwined. My heart was racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness, as I couldn't believe that this moment was finally happening. It was like a dream come true, yet at the same time, it felt almost too good to be true.

As we entered the cozy diner, everything suddenly became real and hit me like a jolt. The smell of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee filled the air, tempting my senses. Our tired waitress greeted us with a weak smile before leading us to a small, secluded booth in the corner.

As we settled into our seats, the comforting warmth of the diner enveloped me like a hug. Harry's deep green eyes bore into mine, his concern noticeable. He could sense my nerves and reached across the table to take my hand in his, providing me with a sense of comfort and support.

I took a deep breath and tried to play it cool, but deep down I couldn't shake off the guilt of breaking up with Beck just to be sitting here at this table with Harry. Was I making the right decision?

"I actually dumped my boyfriend," I finally confessed, unable to keep it inside any longer. Harry's eyebrows furrowed in surprise as he listened intently.

"That's tough," he sympathized, shaking his head slightly as his curly hair fell out of place. "But listen, come over to my place. I have a collection of records and we can just chill if you're into that sort of thing."

Part of me just wanted to crawl into bed and forget about everything, but I had broken up with Beck for Harry so I should at least try to enjoy it, right? And who knows, maybe spending time with him would help me forget about my worries.

"Yeah," I reluctantly agreed. "I think that would be nice. Just to get my mind off things for a bit." Harry nodded in understanding, his hand still holding mine.

Our conversation was interrupted by the waitress taking our order. As Harry quickly scanned through the menu, his emerald eyes flickering back and forth between options, I couldn't help but watch him intently. He settled on pancakes with bacon and without even looking, I ordered the same. Nothing sounded more comforting than a stack of warm, fluffy pancakes.

When our food arrived, it was even better than I could have imagined. The pancakes were perfectly golden brown and the bacon was crispy - a perfect combination of sweet and savory. Despite my protests, Harry insisted on paying for both of us before we left the diner in his SUV.

As we drove the short distance to his apartment, we made small talk but my mind couldn't help but wander to what his place would look like. I had always been curious about where he lived and now I was finally going to see it. My heart skipped a beat as we pulled up to a charming brick building with a "Welcome Home" sign hanging above the door.

We walked into the building and took the stairs up to Harry's apartment on the second floor. As he unlocked the door and let me in, I couldn't help but take in every detail of the space. It was filled with an eclectic mix of records and vintage decor, giving it a cozy yet cool vibe.

I couldn't stifle a smile as Harry showed me around, proud of the space he had created for himself. We settled in on his couch to listen to some music, surrounded by shelves stacked with old records from various artists.

As the evening went on, we talked and laughed while listening to some of our favorite songs. The initial nervousness had faded away and being with Harry felt so natural and effortless. I couldn't believe how much fun I was having just chilling at his apartment.

Harry turned to me, his green eyes curious and inquisitive. "You never told me why you broke up with your boyfriend," he said, his voice laced with concern as he walked in from the kitchen with a glass of water. I stood up to meet his eyes.

I hesitated, unsure if I should reveal the truth. But something about Harry's sincerity and genuine interest pushed me to open up. "The truth is, I felt guilty for dating someone else if I was falling for you," I admitted, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

His brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean, falling for me?"

I took a deep breath. "I don't know. I-it didn't feel right to continue dating someone else. But it's not serious."

He leaned in closer, his cologne filling my senses and making me feel dizzy. "Do you want it to be serious between us?" he asked, his gaze intense.

I nodded eagerly, unable to find the words to express how much I wanted him.

Silence filled the room as we both stood there, our hearts racing with unspoken desire. The soft crackling of the vinyl record added to the tension in the air.

Harry's hand reached out, gently tracing the curve of my cheek with his fingertips. My eyes fluttered shut at his touch. My body responded with a thrill of excitement. I pressed a kiss to his collarbone, savoring the feeling of his warm skin against my lips.

I looked up and our gazes locked, the tension between us thick and heavy. Harry's body pressed against mine, his lips hovering just millimeters away from mine as he traced a line of fire down my neck with his tongue. My breath hitched as desire pulsed through me, our chemistry igniting into a passionate embrace.

My body ignited with desire, my hands gripping his neck as I passionately devoured his lips, completely consumed by the intoxicating sensation of our mouths locked together.

Our bodies entwined in a frenzy of desire, our heavy breaths mixing with the sound of our lips smacking and tongues tangling. Harry's hands gripped me firmly, exploring every inch of my body with insatiable hunger. His touch ignited a fire within me, making me crave more and more of him.

I responded with a thirst, my fingers digging into his flesh as I pressed myself against his body. Our kisses were a fierce battle of desire, igniting a fiery inferno within us both.

Without pause, Harry sat and hoisted me onto his lap, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as we devoured each other's mouths. Our bodies moved in perfect unison, our hearts pounding wildly in sync with our primal desires.

Harry's hands, rough and calloused, gently grasp the strands of my hair as he leans in closer. The dim light catches the edges of his fingers, casting a glimmer on his skin.

The minutes dragged on like an eternity as Harry's breaths grew ragged and deep. As he finally pulled away, our eyes locked in a heated gaze that sent shivers down my spine. I knew then, without a doubt, that this was only the start of something wild and uncontrollable. My mind raced with conflicting emotions, unsure if it was sheer bliss or impending chaos. But for now, I chose to embrace the unknown and savor every moment of this intense journey.

The night came to a sudden end after our shared kisses, and as we exchanged bittersweet goodbyes, my heart swelled with conflicting emotions. Grateful for the unexpected turn of events, but also filled with a deep sadness at the thought of leaving Harry's side. With every fiber of my being, I wanted to stay in his protective embrace forever. But practicality dictated otherwise - he had work in the morning and I didn't want to be a burden. As I called for an uber, we stood in his kitchen, our bodies tense with unspoken feelings. In a moment of pure vulnerability, Harry pulled me into his arms and planted a tender kiss on my forehead. Little did I know, this one act would mark the beginning of a tumultuous and intoxicating journey ahead.

All Parts

[denim-devil]

Valentine | S.H

Summary - You present a promiscuous gift as a thank you, for your first Valentines, Steve decides to use that very gift…

A/N - So like- a fleshlight inspired this fic, you are welcome- fr though please enjoy this fic, I totally think Steve would be into this and a sweetheart about it- BIG SOFITE- also this is for my boys who love boneless chicken cause-

- NOT PROOF READ -

──────. • ☆:*.☽ .* :☆ﾟ• . ──────

It’s the thought that count, right?

The same sentence replayed on your mind, watching Steve nibble away at one of the crispy chicken wings he brought along. His smile whilst chewing away distracted you from the growing butterflies that swarmed your stomach.

The flowers he purchased not long ago sat in a beautiful glass vase, the very dining room light above the two of you bouncing from every ridge it occupied. The roses were a vibrant red, almost reflecting the love that grew strong daily between the two of you.

“It’s finger lickin’ good-“ Steve mumbled encouraging a soft chuckle from you. Riddled with anxiety a soft red blossomed across your cheeks which in turn had Steve glaring at you whilst licking away at the loose chicken left in his mouth.

The red box placed beside one of your quaking legs left unopened, the same soft pastel maroon ribbon left knotted, secreting the inappropriate gift. For a first Valentines gift indeed it would seem to forward? Right?

“Are you okay, can’t help but notice the- uh” Steve pointed to his cheek bones, the soft red now turning vibrant, closer to a tomato. Knowing how shy you got when something was up Steve decided to question the timidness that now strained you from refraining the truth.

You nod with a smile, one that could seem un-phased by the very question that ran through the canyons of your ears, swallowed up by the rocky sea of regret swirling around your head.

“Are you sure? Is it the chicken- fuck, I shoulda bought boneless I know you’re not a fan of…all of that”

Again you chuckle to yourself, letting a huffy sigh pass your open lips. Steve was clueless but he was smart, he would easily catch on.

“I…bought you something”

Eagerly reaching down for the hefty box, you manage to place it down close toward Steve. With an eyebrow raise, he sets down the napkin he previously used to clean the shimmery grease from the tips of his fingers before reaching over for the box, curiosity taking over.

“So this is what has you blushing?…huh”

The bow was slowly untied, the thicker parts pulled until the knot unformed, breaking the secret that incased you in a casket of burden.

“I’m sure it’s gonna be amazing, whatever it is”

The anticipation kicked in, each heart beat gaining speed until you physically couldn’t look at him anymore. The light clack of the cardboard lid slipped from the bottom of the box, presenting the elongated tan silicone fake hole, wrapped in a thick black plastic encasing easier for leverage.

Each passing moment of realisation had you hiding away in your oversized hoodie, the butterflies that once settled in the pit of your stomach growing like a swarm which infested your gullet, forcing the little amount of food you had managed to sneak in before passing the box over.

“Baby…you bought me this?”

The heat that flooded you still leaked up into Steve’s own face, a light dusting of pink journeying into his cheeks once he picked up the card with his name eloquently written in cursive.

Flicking the neatly folded piece up, his eyes landed on the short message. It was quick, to quick, almost as if you had the same hurriedness you were now acquainted with writing it.

It wasn’t sloppy, infact it perfectly captured the thought behind the very object he now gripped onto, pulling it from the crinckly, cerise tissue paper. The silence was loud, loud enough to disrupt any singular thought that could possibly ruin any kind of forgiveness.

“I- If it’s not- I can take it back”

You mumbled innocently. But Steve, Steve couldn’t help but feel how he began to plump up in his denim pants, his boxer’s incredibly tight, tight enough for discomfort.

“Are you kidding, it’s perfect…”

To focused on the new addition to the bedroom to realise the change in your posture, your face visible to the slightly older boy. He was stunned for sure but in ways that had his temptation skyrocketing, every single improper thought plaguing his mind.

“But why would I need this, when I have you?”

It takes a couple of seconds for his words to settle in, once they do, you look over catching his eye. They had changed from a soft light hazel to a unfathomable darkness as if every ounce of innocence drained from his body, questioning your limits.

“I just thought, something new, I can still return it before it’s-“

He coughs forcing you to stumble into nothing but a slight murmur of your lips which contorted until falling flat once more.

“Maybe we can try it out-“

Gathering yourself together, watching as Steve stood practically looming over the oak-vanished tabled top, holding the foreign object in his hands.

Capturing the exact moment your eyes target the fully grown mound at the front of his jeans, a breathy chuckle breaks the spell he managed to put on you, your legs working somewhat normally pushing you upwards.

“C’mere”

His free hand flaps you over, following his signal you do just so, slotting into his side. Still the timidness was pungent, it invested in your veins at Steve’s new found immaculacy, the bulge he sported still strong.

Walking you both into his bedroom, he sits, in turn you follow like a lost puppy, watching as he shuffled back into the pillows, splaying his body out, in due time he set the toy aside gently before reaching into his bedside cabinet, fetching out the clear bottle containing copious amounts of lube, thick and clear.

You took it in, not just the way Steve seemed to eager to unravel the toys usage and what potentially caused you to buy it, but also the way he accepted it so quickly, as if he had been waiting for something new.

“Mind helping me out a little baby?”

The nickname helped force you back into the moment, forgetting the same thoughts which clogged up your already full head. You felt hazy but with the lack of judgement it was easy to forget just why you were so nervous to share the gift with him.

“Yeah- sure, sorry”

Immediately Steve pulled you in for a kiss helping you slump into his side, now laying beside one another, the tension grew thick, thicker then fabric keeping his thick appendage from sight.

Wondering hands soon find the cold metal of his golden zip, swiftly you make work of it, the soft purr rattled through the lewd smacking sounds your lips created, distracting you both if only for a mere second.

Success had arrived like a knight in shining armour once you managed to wriggle a hand in, fetching out the unmissable fully grown muscle he produced. Hissing, Steve broke the kiss, his cock laying flat against his abdomen with a heavy thud.

It was almost overbearing at first, the tip a pastel pink with a twinge of red which grew with each twitch, a girthy vein running along the underside which split into a fork-like shape, invading the pale skin.

The pop of the cap startled you enough to watch the clear jelly like substance fall into his palm. Using it to his advantage, he lathers it across the entirety of his girth, two strokes to full soak the skin.

A soft “Fuck-“ escapes his open mouth, head falling back into the plush pillows now supporting his neck. Sneakily, you replace his hand with your own, a desperately broken Steve reaches over for the toy placing the intruding hole at his tip.

“Gotta watch okay, you might need the next size up, if that’s a thing”

Agreeing with the jock, his girth with the added length, it almost looked impossible to fit. His confidence never seemed to phase you, generally speaking, it was a fact, one you had beared witness to a plethora of times.

Biting your lip his tip sinks past the tight ring of silicone, the lube helping with the pressure.

“Oh shit- fuck”

It felt fresh, like a field littered with flowers, light yet so fucking realistic, he couldn’t tell the difference it felt that good, almost too good.

His eyes close once you begin a gentle pace, the trudging of his cock with the suction of each ridge inside dragged against every single sensitive, pumped vein scurrying across the very muscle creating the slick lewd sounds that bounced from wall to wall.

Each tug yanked harsh groans from the occupied man, your pace matched his eagerness in ways he couldn’t explain which he accepted, greedily taking up your energy whilst sucking the life out of him.

“I…I didn’t think it would be so, fuck, keep going, like that”

It had been a while for Steve, between work and your clashing schedules, the lack of privacy each evening grew thin but tonight he was in your very hands, ones which worked him for everything he had to offer.

Even the silicone had taken notes of his size, not being able to swallow him whole like you could do so easily showed the limits of the toy proving Steve’s ideology, it was good, but it wasn’t you.

“I think it likes you Steve…”

Each remark slipping past your lips had the coil in his stomach rattle with urgency, he was close, each pull, from his angry tip to the vein residing at his base ushered that very same coil to snap simultaneously.

“Gonna cum- holy shit baby”

Watching closely, small beads of thick, white load began to spill from the hole he managed to stretch soaking the neatly trimmed patch of hair surrounding his novelty.

His thighs shook with each small thrust he had left in him. Quickly your pulled into a wet kiss full of tongue and saliva shushing his fastened pants, a wave of bliss controlling his eager movements.

As deep as the kiss intended to be, he shifted away, not much, his breath still fanning over your pink cheeks, eyes, doe-eyed once more still trained on your own

“You know, I’m starting to think you’re onto something…”

[liminalpebble]

Stray: Part 6

Masterlist link

Stray: Part 6

Loki waited patiently in the sepia and golden glow of the cozy little café, then jumped to his feet as he saw you walk in. He stood up, waving and smiling eagerly, welcoming you to a little table for two where candles had been lit and the steaming food had just arrived.

He kissed your hand and pulled your chair out in a bafflingly archaic display of chivalry.

“Th...thank you, Mr...I actually don't think I got your name.”

“Ah! Of course. I'm Henry. Thank you so much for joining me. I hope you don't mind, but I know you don't have much time so I ordered for us in advance.”

“Wow! This looks incredible!” you exclaimed. Your eyes lit up like a child on Christmas as you saw the most scrumptious-looking grilled cheese and tomato soup. “You must have read my mind. I love a grilled cheese and tomato soup on a dreary day.”

Henry gave a wry grin, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “Good intuition, I suppose.”

An effervescent giggled escaped your lips. You couldn't believe the absurdity of this situation; sitting here in your uniform, a threadbare sweater over you shoulders, opposite a modern prince charming eating in a cafe far beyond anything you could afford.

“Please,” he said, delighted by your delight, “Dig in.”

You hummed in pleasure as you took a crispy bite of the golden sandwich dipped in the silky soup. You had no idea such a simple meal could be a gourmet cuisine with the right preparation.

Loki's heart fluttered as he looked up to see your doe eyes go wide. “This...this is the best soup I've ever had in my life! Thank you Mr....Thank you, Henry.”

'Henry' nodded his his lovely blond head as he replied, “My pleasure.”

“So,” you began uncertainly, “You seem to have a few accurate impressions of me. May I know a bit more about you?”

“I would venture to say that I don't know nearly enough about you, darling.”

you could feel the blood warming in your cheeks. “I really don't know that there's much to say. Frankly, I'm pretty confused by your attention. You're handsome and suave and...well, I'm sure you know all that. Men like you usually know very well where they stand in those matters. I'd like to know about you beyond that.”

There are no men like me. He thought; a faint hint of his dormant arrogance rearing up. However, he did feel the slightest prick of a wound, not because you mistook him for a simple human, but because you said it with so much suspicion. Although Loki was dying for you to trust him, he couldn't blame you really. He was literally deceiving you right now. You were certainly intelligent enough to be weary of the intentions of attractive men. It was actually admirable. Not everyone could keep their wits about them when the silver-tongued god of charm engaged them.

“I don't think you give yourself enough credit, but I can also see that you don't enjoy talking about yourself.”

“Correct,” you confirmed with a laugh, deflecting. “So...with a lovely accent like that, I'm guessing you aren't from around here?”

“Uh...no,” he said dabbing his face with a napkin. “In my youth I spent a good deal of time in Norway with my family. The people there were very hospitable. Eventually, we migrated to England. Our Scandinavian friends took us with them, in a sense, but that was all a very long time ago and I've traveled around since then. What about you? I'm sure you have an interesting story of your own.”

Hmm. You thought, Undeterred, are you?

Unable to meet his penetrating gaze, you stared into your soup. “Not particularly. I'm from a big city in the Midwest. Came to the coast to get my degrees and I've been here ever since, hoping I could get a career as an academic but clearly...”, you gestured down to your uniform, “that hasn't exactly worked out.”

When you met his eyes again he seemed so sad. “It really is terrible, isn't it? That women face so many barriers. But I do hope things are changing...especially for you.”

You smiled with a tired sort of hope. “Me too. I just keep trying...trying to stay brave and stay kind.”

“Yes...I can see that.” he said with a warm expression. “Don't you miss it? Your hometown. Your friends, family?” After a beat and a quizzical raise of his eyebrows... “Boyfriend?”

You took a sip of your water to delay answering. “No...heh. No boyfriend, and I...don't really have any close friends. The other girls, my coworkers, they invite me out and they're very sweet. Sometimes I go, but I just don't...I don't know...fit in. My family doesn't speak to me. See, I wasn't supposed to go off and get diplomas. I was supposed to get married and make babies, according to them. That wasn't what I wanted, so...”

“Ah,” he said knowingly, “It's never easy when families make us feel like a disappointment for simply following our own compass. Mine does the same.”

Your eyebrows peaked in surprise, “You? A disappointment? Those must be some very odd standards your family has if they consider you a disappointment. I can't wrap my head around that.”

“Nor can I in your situation, dear lady.” He tilted his head thoughtfully, a sadness behind his pretty eyes. “I suppose we're both strays then?”

You nodded pensively. Your itching curiosity finally got the better of you as you asked, “Henry, this will probably sound like a pretty selfish questions, but...What is it about me that you could possibly notice that impressed you enough to do this for me? I just can't understand.”

He took a deep breath and swirled his wine, searching for a way to say something deeply true but wrapped in a lie of omission. Then he said sincerely, “I noticed, on several occasions, that you were kind, and clever, and unique, and funny. Even working in a soulless place that wants to crush that out of you. It takes a quiet kind of strength to remain yourself, and that's a much more challenging feat of strength than the more obvious sorts. Persisting like that is hard. It's one of the hardest things in the universe.”

“Thank you. That's extremely flattering of you to say, and so poetically too, but it can't be that unusual.”

“Believe me, darling. I've been everywhere. I'm older than you'd think. I assure you that it is very very rare.” He leaned closer, those bright eyes never leaving you. “You are very very rare. The only one of your kind,” he said, almost whispering as he gently took your hand.

“Oh! Your poor hands are freezing,” you said cradling his in both of yours and rubbing gently.

Loki chuckled hard with amusement. “Oh sorry darling. It's nothing, I promise. I just tend to run cool. I assure you, it doesn't bother me. I actually quite like crisp weather.”

You kept your palms pressed against his beautiful hand, feeling utterly unable to let go now that you'd had the chance to touch him. To your surprise and delight, his lovely fingers curled around yours.

You were speechless under his spell, only able to think, Say something say something say something goddamn it say something!

“Ah well, you're in the right place then. Chilly and rainy seems to be what this city specializes in. I hate it though,” you added shivering into your ratty sweater. “I get cold so easily.”

You cringed a little, feeling like you'd settled on the dullest kind of small talk. You stared down at your now-empty plates but you could feel his perceptive gaze boring into you. Suddenly, the clock chimed one and you jumped up.

“Oh! I'm so sorry to run off but I really need to clock back in now. Thank you so much, Henry. This was so lovely. Um...can I leave some cash for my part?”

He shook his head in abject confusion. “No! No no. My treat, darling, remember?” he said softly as he rose, helping your into your coat. He was so close. You could smell his fresh cologne again, the press of his large hands as he draped your coat gently over your shoulders. “But, in return, might I be so bold as to ask for your phone number?”

He brought out a little note pad of luxurious green paper and a pen, and you gladly scribbled your name and number on it, hands almost shaking too much to make it legible.

He purred out the syllables of your name with satisfaction, then said, “I'll call you soon?”

You gasped out a breathy, “Yes! Yes please. Thank you for everything.”

He nodded to you as you backed out through the door waving your hand (and bumping into a table). You hustled back to punch the clock, a couple minutes late but still on cloud 9.

----

Loki was feeling equally blissful, sitting for a long moment after you'd left, enjoying the scent of your perfume lingering behind you; violets and lavender. His hand still felt warm from your touch. He had only had one glass of wine, but he was already feeling tipsy from this lovely little time with you. Lost in his thoughts, he hatched another plan to make you smile, and jumped up to complete it before he would have to go back to your shared home and his feline form.

------

As you slid your punch card into the clock the next morning you felt a strange mix of emotions; still high off of your incredible little date and Henry's company, but hesitant to put too much into it. You felt the strain of uncertainty and a very familiar reluctance towards trust. It felt like that long moment of tension when the cart has finished climbing the first hill of a rollercoaster and has yet to plunge. Waiting for either a thrilling or terrifying drop was eating at your usually strong patience.

You weren't sure if he would call that evening. You assumed he wouldn't that night since it had only been a few hours and...what was the etiquette anyway? To wait a few days? You had no idea. Dating was far outside your area of expertise. But you did take comfort in how extra affectionate your little black feline companion was being.

Loki was anxious for you to come home that evening, noticing you were a bit later than usual. You swung in the door all blushing cheeks and smiling, raindrops clinging to your hair and making it glitter, those adorable apples of your cheeks rising in glee. He began to purr you stroked his fur, thrilled to see you again though it had only been a few hours.

“Sorry I'm late, Loki,” you soothed as he meowed pitifully. “I didn't mean to make you nervous. I had to stop at the library.” Looking over to where you had set two thick volumes on the counter, he noted the titles. A History of Norway and Introductory Norwegian.

He grinned irrepressibly (as much as a cat can grin) at the sweet curiosity of his mortal. She wanted so much to learn and to see the world, and of course, also to know a bit more about her dashing stranger. Don't worry, little mortal, he thought, I'll show you such exquisite places over all the nine realms. Loki was actually rather proud of himself that he hadn't technically lied, and learning about Scandinavia would, in fact, teach her a good deal about him and where he had spent so much time on this planet before.

His heart sank, though, as he sat in her lap. His tail twitched anxiously as her eyes kept wondering towards her silent phone and her initial glee turned to frustration. Loki was dying to call her, to alleviate her worries that 'Henry' wasn't interested. She stroked and scritched his shiny coat as she confided in him with a sigh.

“He was so so sweet, Loki. I want to believe him. He seemed sincere, but a man like that? Going for a girl like me? I'm sure he's already forgotten about me and moved on to one of the other hundred names in his little black book.”

“Meow!”

“Yeah, I guess your right. It's not fair for me to judge a book by its cover. He certainly must not be judging me by mine.”

“Merorow!” How can you say that? You're so beautiful...and the more I know about you the more and more beautiful you become.

You smirked and said, “You know, you always holler like that when I'm putting myself down. Thanks for putting a stop to it. Maybe someday I'll get out of the habit.”

-------

Your mind drifted to all of these moments of the day before while you tried your best to pay attention behind your counter, or taking inventory, but you found yourself scattered and day dreaming. You were doing just that when Janet called your name, and you snapped back to the present.

“Janet! Sorry about that.”

Janet chuckled, knowing what lovestruck looked like when she saw it. “Jesus, I was calling your name like four times!”

“Sorry!” you chuckled out, embarrassed. “What's the matter, kid?”

“Well, there's a gift box delivered at reception for you.” She smirked and elbowed you conspiratorially, “seems like you got an admirer.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, but you couldn't deny the swell of anticipation you felt as your feet carried you swiftly to the desk.

Waiting for you was a package wrapped in elaborate green and gold paper and tied with a golden bow. A small note with your name written in elegant calligraphy graced the top. You read it with a smile so wide your cheeks began to ache.

Darling,

Thank you for a lovely little meal together. My apologies for not calling. I've been unfortunately terribly occupied with a project and haven't found a private moment. Please know that I think about your lovely voice, and eyes, and demeanor constantly, though. And please accept this small token of my affection. I hate to think of you shivering, and I'd love to help you keep warm.

Sincerely,

Henry

Digging through the tissue paper, you discovered a lusciously soft violet-hued sweater. It was new and perfectly tailored to your size. All you could do for a time was stare at it, mouth agape for a long moment.

Finally Janet made her way up to you, too curious to stay behind for long. She tapped your arm lightly and goaded, “Well! Try it on, princess! I'm swooning for you.”

You giggled. You couldn't help it. You shrugged your ratty gray cardigan off and slid your arms into the softest cashmere you had ever felt. It was perfect, everything about it was perfect; the color exactly suited to your skin tone and preference, the shape tastefully flattering your every curve. You were overwhelmed by a storm of every good feeling; gratitude, affection, glee, excitement. Janet thought to herself that she'd never seen you so glad before, and she was happy for you, deciding that if anyone deserved to be doted on by a dashing prince it really was you.

“Wow. Honey, if he has a brother, promise you'll let me know?” the younger lady asked, and you both giggled.

@averagetmblrusser @primrosesposts @fruityfucker @arunabrak @mischief2sarawr @ladyofthestayingpower @acidcasualties @unlucky-number-13 @goblingirlsarah @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokihiddleston @chokeanddagger @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @marcotheflychair @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @littlespaceyelf @little-wormwood @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @eleniblue @loz-3 @the-haven-of-fiction @sweetsigyn @muddyorbs @icytrickster17 @holdmytesseract @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration @sailorholly @coldnique @sarahscribbles @peaches1958 @infinitystoner @peachyjinx @mischiefmaker615 @jennyggggrrr @tripleyeeet @itsybitchylittlewitchy @mochie85 @huntress-artemiss @madi0987 @buttercupcookies-blog @annoyingsweetsstranger

[texas-gothic]

Dracula Daily - May 3: Chicken Paprikash!

Welcome boils and ghouls to another year of Dracula Daily. It is the 3rd of May, and as our dear friend Jonathan treks his way across Central Europe, bound for ominous castle of Count Dracula, we encounter the first real star of this most foundational gothic novel: a spicy chicken dish fixed up with paprika. That's right, everyone! It's time for Chicken Paprikash!

Earlier this week, most of you (or at least I'm assuming most of you, because holy cow did a lot of y'all pile in after I posted it) will recall my guide to gathering the ingredients for this most essential of Dracula Daily Dinners. Tonight, we will discuss it's preparation, and whether or not the deviations I have made from the previous cycles rendition will pay off or not. So, if you've got those pots and pans ready, let's go!

Lets begin with the equipment you'll need for preparing Chicken Paprikash.

All the usual suspects are here. Knives, cutting board, some whisks and woodem spoons, a couple of bowls for ingredients. But the real stars of this show are going to be a large dutch oven, and a large building pot. Examples of these can be see in the photo above.

Once you have all your equipment ready, it's time to move on to the most annoying part of every dinner. It's time for...

Part One: Mise En Place

Cooking can be hard, or cooking can be easy. It all depends on how well prepared you are. If you have everything you need ready beforehand, actually cooking the meal can be a breeze. Sadly, this process will usually take up most of the time you spend making dinner. Is it worth the peace of mind later on? Probably, but I've never passed up a chance to gripe.

So, what all must we prepare for our Chicken Paprikash. Let's make a list:

Roughly 2 Pounds of Chicken Thights (salted preferably 1-4 hours beforehand)

2 Cups of Chicken Broth (or Stock)

2 Medium Yellow Onions (Chopped or Diced, to your preference)

2 Roma Tomatoes (Diced this time, with their seeds removed)

2 Hungarian Wax Peppers (Diced as well, be sure to remove those seeds unless you want to go for a ride like dear Jonathan)

2 Cloves of Garlic (Minced) (Don't let your desire to protect yourself from the undead lead you to add more, garlic is one of those flavors that can radically alter a dish in only small quantities)

About half a stick of butter (Though for this task you could substitute with some kind of oil or lard. Lard will make this dish even more rich, but butter is the easier option.)

3/4 Cup of Full Fat Sour Cream

1/4 Cup of Heavy Whipping Cream (make sure to shake your carton beforehand, this stuff gets clumpy if it's left undisturbed)

3 Tablespoons of All Purpose Flour

4 Tablespoons of Sweet Hungarian Paprika + 1 Tablespoon of Hot Hungarian Paprika (Stirred together for ease later on)

Salt + Pepper (To your liking)

1 Bag of Spaetzle

With all this completed, it's time to get started in earnest

Part Two - Get Cooking

Alright, with all our ingredients in hand, its finally time to start cooking.

The very first thing we're going to do is brown our chicken thighs. Set your dutch oven over a large burner, and get the heat up high. When ready, turn the heat down to medium or medium-high. This change is important, unless you want to smoke out your kitchen. Remember, smoky paprika is great, but nobody likes smoky dry wall.

Once you've prepared your pot, and lightly brushed your thighs with a high heat cooking oil (I prefer avocado) begin to brown them. Lay your thighs skin-side down for 45 seconds to 1 minute. Any longer than this risks burning the skin. Repeat in batches until all your chicken thighs have a nice crispy exterior.

(Sadly, this is where the demonstration photos stop. Turns out, a breezier cooking schedule doesn't leave much time for snappy pictures.)

Once you've brown your thighs, remove them and set them aside. Now, it's time for the real corner stones of this dish. Take that half a stick of butter you have sitting around, and give it a good swirl around the bottom of the Dutch oven. As the butter melts (this will be very quick, so you must act accordingly) do everything you can to scrape up the delicious fond left over from browning your chicken. This residue will add flavor to our dish.

The moment your butter has fully liquified, and coated the whole bottom of your dutch oven, add in your onions. These we will stur around and fry until they are a nice golden brown. You can use this time as well to keep scraping up that fond on the bottom of the pot. Make sure to keep the heat on medium throughout.

Once your onions are nice golden brown, add your tomatoes and hungarian wax peppers. Stir these around with the onions and allow to cook for 2-3 minutes. When you begin to approach the last 45-30 seconds, add in your garlic, and cook until fragrant, but not a moment longer.

This next step is crucial. Remove your dutch oven from the heated burner, and allow to cool for roughly 3 minutes. Paprika is something of a tender spice, and it scorches very easily when heat is applied to it. Once the pot is no longer smoking hot, stir in the combined Paprika, and give it a good mix around all the ingredients in the pot. When you have finished, return the dutch oven to the heated burner.

Return your chicken thighs to the pot, and pour in the 2 cups of chicken broth. The thighs should not be entirely covered, but mostly. Bring the pot to a boil, and once boiling, cover, reduce the heat to medium-low, and allow to simmer for a little under an hour, about 40 minutes.

Now, while this is happening, we will prepare our dairy thickener. In a bowl, mix the sour cream, heavy whipping cream, and flower. I prefer to use a tiny whisk for this task, as it does a very good job of moving through every part of the mixture, and combating any clumps from forming. A normal whisk should still work.

While you wait, you're going to pour about a quart of water into that steel pot, and bring to a boil. About 28 minutes from the completion of the paprikash, stir in your spaetzle to the boiling water. Allow to sit, undisturbed for roughly half an hour.

Once the 40 minutes are up, once again remove your chicken from the pot, and remove the dutch oven from the heat. Allow to cool once more, which will prevent your dairy mixture from curdling. Once cool, mix in the cream. Return the chicken to the Dutch oven, place the cover back on, and allow to heat through. About another 5-10 minutes.

And just like that, we're done! Now, let's find out how we did, shall we?

Part Three - Paprikash

This is how mine turned out. And I'm happy to report that my experimentation payed off! The heat really comes through this time, creating that good warming feeling you should get from chicken paprikash. The paprika is warm and smoky, and the chicken is tender and delicious. I'd never had spaetzel before, but I really liked it. It's still not as spicy as our good friend Jonathan described, but I think it's time that I stop differing to the opinions of a 22 year-old English orphan when it comes to any kind of cuisine.

The August Kessler Spatburgunder (Pinot Noir) proved to be an excellent pairing. The wine possesses a splendid earthiness, and it makes a beautiful partner for that smoky paprika flavor.

Well, that about does it for this year's Chicken Paprikash. Did you make Paprikash this year? How did it turn out? Anyway, I'll be making a dedicated effort to make more conversational posts with the program this year, and I cannot wait to discover what rocks we'll turn over this time around.

Join me on Sunday when we'll be diving into Tokaji, the Hungarian desert wine Dracula serves to Jonathan Harker at the end of his, if I may, strange journey.

Happy Dracula Daily, Everyone!

[nekoannie-chan]

Surprise not given

Surprise not given

Title: Surprise not given.

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Steve Rogers X Reader.

Word count: 455 words.

Rating: Teen.

Summary: You couldn't tell Steve what you've been waiting for.

Major Tags: Mention of pregnancy, death of character.

A/N: This is my entry to @the-slumberparty Winds of Autumn Challenge with the prompt and theme:

 Prompt 5.- Crispy leaves 🍁 walking home alone 

Theme: Melancholy ☁️ as the trees shed and the flowers wilt, we feel a sense of loss. Write a tragic tale. 

Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate my work myself) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. Please let me know if you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

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The sun's rays streamed through the window, illuminating the room you and Steve shared. You crept up to him, leaned in, and kissed him on the lips. Steve smiled as he opened his eyes; his hands slid around your waist and yours across his chest.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Steve whispered as he slid his hands up under your shirt to reach your breasts.

However, the moment was interrupted by cell phones ringing, a sign of an urgent mission. Steve frowned somewhat annoyed at the interruption.

“It seems the quiet didn't last long,” he said, standing up and getting dressed.

“Steve, the mission is at a Hydra facility,” you explained.

Although they had the mission in the same place, they were going to take care of different things.

While he was getting ready, you sat on the bed, feeling nervous. You had planned to tell him you were pregnant after his morning session, but you hadn't expected to have been called on a mission. While he was getting ready, you approached him, eager to make the most of the remaining time.

“Wait a moment... “I need to tell you something important,” you said, approaching him with your heart beating fast.

“What is it?

But before you could answer, the cell phone rang again; they had already come for you. Steve sighed, realizing there was no time.

“I'm sorry, we have to go. But I promise you'll tell me everything later,” he said, giving you one last kiss before they left the room.

“Be careful,” you whispered as they reached the mission site. You felt a knot in your stomach.

The mission began. The team gathered in the operations room, where the details were explained to them. The plan was simple: disable security and obtain key information. But your mind kept going back to the moment you had shared with Steve, to what you were going to tell him but could not.

Out of nowhere and unexpectedly, Thanos appeared, and before you could react, he launched an attack, but it was too late. In the middle of the chaos, you found yourself paralyzed. Watching Steve fight, you knew you couldn't take any more risks.

“No!” you shouted, trying to advance towards him, but something stopped you.

You managed to get away; Thanos was gone. Only you were left, kneeling beside his body, mourning his loss and feeling the world crumbling around you. The grief was coursing through you, but there was something else; the news that you were about to become parents would never be shared.

Finally, you got up and went home, feeling the weight of grief and loneliness. The walls seemed to scream his absence, and the void he left in your life was indescribable.

[eveandtheturtles]

Breakfast time

I am making up for the yesterday's angst lol. Enjoy. Also Raph requests are open!! Reblogs and comments are so very much welcomed!

@pheradream15 @thelaundrybitch @leosgirl82 @madammuffins @turtle-babe83 @m1dnyt3-w0lf @sharpwindow

Ship: Raph X Reader

It was still early in the morning and you were deep asleep. Raph checked the time as he snuck back inside. It was almost an hour before you'd have to wake up. An idea sprung into his mind.

The alarm clock blared aggressively at you, tearing you away from your dreams. How dare it. You groaned, debating whether you needed to go to work after all and unfortunately your bills stated that yes, you did.

Rubbing your eyes you got up and noticed that the bed on Raph's side was untouched. Most definitely stayed up late on patrol. You assumed he decided to sleep over at the lair.

With a yawn, you made your way to the kitchen. Half way to it though you paused. The scent of toast, eggs and most importantly coffee hit your nostrils. Your stomach grumbled. Mouth watered.

You opened the kitchen door and was greeted by Raph's smug face.

"Took you long enough," he said.

"Good morning to you too," you snorted a reply and zeroed in on the plate of food right in front of you. "Did you make this?"

There were toasts, sunny side up egg, butter, jam and freshly squeezed OJ. The toasts look a bit on the too crispy side but not burned. The egg had a lil char on the edges and you could almost see an orange peel in the glass.

"Yup, dig in," he offered, proud of himself.

You sat down, unable to stop grinning. The toast crunched loudly. You spread some butter and dipped it in the egg.

"How is it?" Raph asked, a bit nervous.

"It's definitely made with love." You leaned over the table to give him a chaste smooch.

"But no skill?" He snorted kissing you back.

"Love," you accentuated. You ate all of it. "Thank you." You hugged him nuzzling his bicep.

"No problem babe," he squeezed you around your waist. "I am going to hit the hay as soon as you are out."

"My hero," you hummed, kissing him a bit longer.

"Dontcha forget that!" He muttered against your lips.

Just like that Raph breakfast services were all yours for the years to follow.