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#the man with a voice like honey and chocolate and coffee all at once
falenminds-blog · 9 months
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are yall really still sleeping on the mistholme museum of mystery morbidity and mortality?????? really????!!?!?!? we're on the last season and you still haven't even heard anything about a man with a voice like honey and chocolate and coffee all at once?!?!??!?!?!?!??!?!!!! yall....
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chickncasserol · 5 months
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todays gender is the man with a voice like honey and chocolate and coffee all at once <3
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ceboplacebo · 1 year
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[image description: a digital poster in a minimalistic art style. four square isometric rooms with a red and a yellow wall and a white floor are arranged across the white canvas. parts of the rooms are cut out in a way that together they result in the silhouette of a man. cut out from old photographs, each of the rooms contains one object: an old blues guitar, a ceiling light, a ring of keys and an old flute. red text that is arranged in line with the isometric perspective if the rooms reads "the man with a voice like honey & chocolate & coffee all at once." at the bottom left is the logo of the mistholme museum with the colours changed to match the red and yellow of the illustration.
we had to make posters in 1930s style in class so i made one for the man with the voice :) exhibits are s1/2 centric but it works timelessly i think
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ultimatefraudpoll · 2 years
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nvr-pass · 1 year
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the man with a voice like sugar, spice and everything nice
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0-sunstranger-0 · 4 months
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ahhhhh the man with a voice like chocolate and coffee and honey all at once my love you fuckass
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starswallowingsea · 10 months
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You guys should listen to the Mistholme Museum. They even have transcripts on their website.
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januaryembrs · 3 months
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Any fluffy sweet Drabble about the moon boys 🫡
SWEET MORNINGS | Marc Spector x reader
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description: the boys wake up to their girlfriend making breakfast, too bad she has no clue which boy is fronting that morning
length: 1.1k
warnings: representation of DID, Marc's slight self loathing (it's Marc idk what to say). Writer has never experienced DID so I am going off the show
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He woke up peacefully, which had once been a fleeting dream in itself for a man like him. He’d spent years jumping at the smallest sounds, flinching at voices and footsteps, ready to be up and out of bed within a moment’s notice. Yet, when his eyes slowly blinked out of the reverie of sleep, he heard her humming along to the radio, already half way through the song, heard her socks sliding against the kitchen floor as she whirled around the stove, and the smell of pancakes and coffee hit him with full force. 
His lips drew into a smile before he even knew it, and he was drawing the covers back, her side of the bed not entirely freezing which told him she’d been up about twenty minutes. Marc grabbed his shirt off the floor, the same one Steven used to sprinkle with sand when he had no idea about their coexistence, only two years later, it was scrubbed clean, even with a pretty, knit rug you’d bought from your apartment when you moved in. 
Tugging it over his head, he padded into the living room, where he could already see your form where you danced around the kitchen, entirely unaware of his approach. He’d been trying to teach you self defence, said you needed to learn to have a sixth sense when it came to people on your tail, because he had a tendency to worry about you more than Steven and Jake did. But maybe it was the fact he had naturally light footsteps, or maybe it was the fact you knew in the comfort of your home he would always be there to protect you, either way your guard was entirely down by the time he swooped behind you, grabbing you in a warm, soft hug, pressing kisses down the side of your bare neck and onto your shoulder. 
“Morning,” His voice was muddied with sleep, and he cleared his throat, hoping to take some of the husk out of it despite the fact you whirled around to look at him with something that told him just what you thought of his rumbling voice. 
“Morning, honey,” You said, pressing a small kiss to his lips, your hand still on the frying pan that he now realised had been filled with mini-chocolate pancakes, the batter sizzling and cracking in the oil, “You hungry?” 
Marc wasn’t really listening as he gave a ‘mhm’, too busy burying his nose in the crook of your neck and jaw, kissing lazily there as he tightened his grip on your waist. 
His gaze fell on the counter after a moment, the blueberry porridge Steven went crazy for already dished up in the little purple bowl you’d painted for him for their birthday, whirled of steam coming off the breakfast that was slowly turning a cornflour colour with the chopped fruit swirling in the centre. 
“Sorry, baby, I think Steven’s still sleeping, I can try ask him-” He started as you used a spatula to quickly flip the pancakes, their underside a golden brown that made his mouth water.
“Oh, don’t worry. I wasn’t sure who was joining me for breakfast, or if all of you wanted something, so I made a bit of everything,” You said, smiling at him as you turned the gas down and spun in his arms, batting your eyes at him with an innocent smile, “Chocolate pancakes for you, blueberry oatmeal for Steven and a black coffee for Jake since I know you guys got mad last time we had bacon together,”
“What a woman,” Jake’s voice was a growl of appreciation that Marc couldn’t help but agree with, and he was quick to lean in to steal a handful of long kisses, grabbing the soft plush of your hips with feather light fingers and pulling you towards him, “Ay, Romeo, your pancakes are burning.”
You sprung away from him like you’d heard the alter yourself, your eyes wide in surprise, “Your pancakes are burning!” 
He heard Jake chuckle and a smile made it’s way onto his face as you fretted over whether the brown was where the chocolate had melted or if the mix had singed, but Marc thought he might just eat anything you gave him because you poured so much love and affection into it he couldn't help but think it tasted divine. 
“Marc, I’m sorry, I know we have the no hogging the body rule and I got to have her all last night, but please let me have just a few bites- o-or atleast ask her to save it for me, that stuff smells delicious,” Steven seemed to be wide awake and kicking at the sight of food, and Marc sighed, reaching out with one hand to swoop your hair off your neck as he kissed the very top of your spine. 
“Steven asks if we could save him the blueberry oatmeal since it’s my turn to spend time with you,” He said gently, and he feels you smile before he sees it, the way your cheeks crinkle and pull tightly. 
“Of course I can, baby, I’ll put it in the fridge,” You said, despite the fact the man was inside the body, scooping the little circular goods onto two plates for both of you. Turning to set the plates on the table, Marc grabbed two glasses out of the cabinet, opening the fridge door with a rattle as the magnets clasped pictures of the two of you to the cooler. 
“Orange or apple juice?” He asked, pulling the former out of the side drawer for himself. 
“Orange, please,” You replied politely, grabbing some cutlery out and laying it beside his plate. 
The two of you sat down finally, Marc sliding the filled glass over to your half of the dinner table and allowing himself to just watch as you picked up your knife and fork, digging into the chocolatey breakfast before it went cold. 
He never deserved any of this, the light touches and the breakfasts and the devotion and the way you put him on a pedestal. But sitting in the slow hum of the radio, the most obscure top hundreds playlist he thinks you could have chosen, he bit into his pancake, his tongue exploding with sugary yumminess, as you told him the weird dream you’d had about him becoming some kind of half horse, centaur type man and how you wondered if he would wear jeans on the front legs, the back legs, or if you would have to have custom, four legged bottoms made for him. 
The two of you laughed, because he didn’t quite understand what had gotten him so lucky as to end up with you. He could get used to all this.
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lillysdreaminnn · 3 months
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Labyrinth.
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Labyrinth; introduction.
Pairing; aaron hotchner x fem!oc
Words; 2.2k
Summary; Ivy got accepted to fill the empty place in the behavioural analysis unit - what she's been after her whole life - and meets her boss and colleagues for the first time.
Warnings; swearing, Derek being Derek, JJ being a little shit here and there (but we love her 🫶🏻), not proofread, i suck at warnings that's all ive got :)
A/n; hi! I decided to post my fic on here too! You can also find it on wattpad under the name Oceanbringerr (my dad picked it out 💀). It's my first fic 🫢 comments and reblogs are heavily appreciated and I hope you enjoy 🫶🏻🫶🏻
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"So, do you think I'm hired?" Ivy muttered, fixing her blazer for what seemed to be the fifteenth time. April just shot her a glare, basically scolding her.
 "Okay babe; relax. You've been after this your whole life. You got this, I promise you honey." April tried to reassure her sister once again, watching her mess with her outfit more - messing it up even more.
 "Ivy, I swear to fucking God if you mess with your blazer one more time I will murder you." Violet, the eldest of the family, yelled as she shot up from her spot on Ivy's bed. She stormed over to her sister, forcefully fixing the blazer and top.
 "You're beautiful, honey." She said, a lot calmer this time. "I don't want him to employ me just because I'm beautiful." Ivy scoffed at her two sisters, putting her hair up in a slick ponytail, wanting to seem as serious as she felt about all this.
"So you haven't even met your boss yet?" Violet asked, popping a piece of chocolate in her mouth after she sat back down on Ivy's - once - perfectly made bed.
 "No, not yet. I only met section chief Erin Strauss... She seemed... Fine?" Ivy said with a soft laugh, turning back to her sisters who shot her a thumbs up. "Anyway, I have to go. Don't eat all of these, your date will go perfectly fine, plus you have seven more hours to stress about it." The girl snatched the chocolate away from her sister, smiling as Violet whined like a child.
 "Fine. Have fun!" The oldest sister called out after the youngling - in Violet's very words - as she ran out the door.
 Blasting some music in her car, Ivy was quick to arrive at the bureau. She took a moment to herself, staring at the building in complete and utter awe, telling herself that she finally made it. After all those years of pure blood, sweat and tears - maybe even literally - she was finally there.
 Taking a deep breath, she put her name-tag on and walked inside the huge building with a box of her stuff. She was greeted by the usual lovely agents she always passed as she made her way to the elevators, pressing the number eight.
 "Hold the doors!" A voice called out, making Ivy put her hand between the doors to keep them from shutting. Once the sensor got her hand, the doors re-opened, revealing a tall, strong man.
 He's handsome. Ivy thought to herself, smiling politely at him.
 "Thank you." He smiled at her, holding a cup of coffee in his left hand. "You're new here?" He asked Ivy, making her look up at him. "Uh, not exactly. I've just been promoted to the behavioural analysis unit." She said with a smile.
 She thought she was bragging, but she had every right to; she had been chasing after this her entire life.
 The man smiled, making Ivy smile a little wider too. "So you're the new recruit, huh? Nice to meet you, I'm Derek Morgan." He introduced himself, making Ivy almost drop her stuff. Of course she had heard of Derek Morgan. Who hadn't?
 The specialist on obsessional crimes.
 "It's very nice to meet you, Derek." Ivy offered him another friendly smile, since she was holding a pretty heavy box in her arms. "I take it you're meeting Hotch today." He laughed a little at Ivy's worried expression.
 "Yup." She nodded, her polite smile never faltering. "He's not as scary as he seems. He likes to play it tough, but he's very nice." Derek said as the two walked out of the elevators and into the bullpen.
"Good luck and welcome to the team, agent." Derek said with a small smile as he walked to his desk, leaving Ivy lost.
 "Staircase, first door to your right." A girly voice called from next to her, making her head snap towards the blonde woman next to her. Finally a familiar face.
 "Hi JJ." Ivy smiled, wrapping her free arm around the girls waist, as she hugged Ivy back with a similar smile. "Hi honey. Let me take you to Hotch, he's been quite stressed as well." JJ said with a laugh, leading Ivy to their boss's office.
 She knocked on the door and waited for the green light, so they could walk inside. When they did get the green light, JJ opened the door, Ivy standing behind her like a lost child.
 "Hey, Hotch. Look who's here." JJ said, making the man look up from his papers, a subtle scowl on his face. The scowl disappeared when his eyes landed on the terrified girl behind JJ.
 Jesus Christ, man up Ivy. You're a full blown FBI agent, for fuck's sake.
 "You must be agent Monroe." Said Hotch, as he got up from his chair, stretching his hand out to Ivy, who gladly gave him a handshake with a smile.
 "It's very nice to meet you, sir." She said, using both hands to hold her box again. JJ had left the two be, shutting the door behind her as well. Hotch motioned for Ivy to sit, which she did after putting her box next to her feet.
 "Strauss told me all about you and your achievements and I have to admit; I'm surprised. In the best way, of course." Hotch said looking down at some files and then back up at Ivy.
 He's stressed.
 The files on his desk had nothing to do with Ivy and she knew it. He looked down because of the awkwardness in the room, which didn't take a profiler to notice.
 "Thank you, sir. I'm very honoured to be here." She said, a small smile on her face as well. Derek told her Hotch looked - and she quotes - 'scary' but to her he seemed just fine. Maybe a little intimidating, but that's about it.
 After a very in depth talk about the job and some of Ivy's accomplishments, Ivy was cleared to go set up. With a polite handshake, she picked up her box and started heading out, when Hotch's voice stopped her.
 "Oh and please; call me Hotch. We're collegues now."
 Ivy smiled and nodded, mumbling a soft 'bye' as she shut the door behind herself. She made her way down to the bullpen and found the desk Hotch had told her about, placing her box on it and sighing. She took a moment to look around, smiling to herself.
 "Meeting with the boss went well?" Derek's voice rang out of nowhere, making Ivy slightly jump. "You're jumpy for an FBI agent." He joked, making Ivy laugh. "I'm not gonna fight that." She chuckled, staring to set up on her desk.
 "Need any help?" Derek offered and before a woman scoffed with a laugh, "Let the poor girl set up her stuff before you start flirting." A woman with raven black hair said, laughing a little.
 Damn, why's everyone so fine in here?
 "Hey, I wasn't flirting! I was just... offering a helping hand to the newbie." Derek defended himself, making the woman laugh again as she shook her head. "Don't mind him, he's a flirt but a really nice guy. Hi, I'm Emily Prentiss." Emily stretched a hand out to Ivy.
 Ivy gladly shook her hand while politely smiling at her. "Nice to meet you, Emily, I'm Ivy." She said, making Emily smile as well.
 "Very pretty name." Emily chuckled, making Ivy's cheeks turn a dusty pink. "Thank you." Ivy said with a smile, staring to set up her stuff on her desk.
 Derek was sat in his spinny chair while Emily was standing, both watching the younger agent set up her office. "Do you need anything?" Ivy laughed awkwardly, as the two agents basically ogled at her. "Sorry, you just look so much like JJ..." Derek said, sounding as confused as he looked.
 "We're second cousins." Ivy laughed, stopping her movements so she could look at the two with an amused smile. "Oh my God! You're the Ivy she talks about!" Emily realised, pointing a finger at Ivy, who was horribly trying to hold back her laughter.
 "That's me" She said, motioning to herself.
 "I pictured you a redhead." Emily mumbled, mainly to herself, but Ivy heard and chuckled.
 "It's the name."
 "It's the DC villain."
 "Maybe both."
 "Both." Both women nodded, a similar grin on their faces.
 Derek just sat confused, watching the two women talk as if they had known each other for ages. "I'm very confused." He commented, mumbling to himself, "You look confused." Emily pointed out as Derek scoffed jokingly.
 "I do not." He defended himself.
 "Why's Derek confused?" A tall, scrawny boy asked as he walked by, sitting across Ivy's desk. God damnit, he's cute too.
 "Oh fuck you."
 Ivy could only laugh at the sibling-like interaction between Emily, Derek and the boy - who seemed awfully young to be witnessing such horrors the BAU saw daily. "Because; Spencer, this is Ivy. The cousin JJ always talks about." Emily introduced, making Spencer nod with a side smile.
 "JJ talks about you very often. I always pictured you a redhead, though." Spencer said with a chuckle, making Ivy smile. He was indeed very cute.
 "Well, I'm obviously a blonde. But I've been thinking about changing it up a li-"
 "Don't even finish that sentence missy." JJ's voice called out suddenly, making Ivy groan. "Why do you always spawn so randomly? Does the universe put money in the slot or something?" Ivy mumbled, making Derek laugh subtly.
 "Ivy, you remember how it went last time you tried to dye your hair." JJ laughed, sitting on her cousin's desk with a smile eerily identical to Ivy's, who just smiled softly and looked down to her feet.
 "How'd it go?" Emily asked with a curious smile.
 "Miss Monroe here had greenish hair for like a month." Ivy shot her cousin a glare, trying to hold back her own laughter. Eventually she gave in and started laughing as well, shaking her head a little.
 "Yeah okay, it was a disaster. Something went wrong with the dye and I ended up with green hair." Ivy explained, everyone laughing at the mental picture of their new friend with green hair.
 Ivy continued setting up her desk while chatting with the rest of the team, getting to know them better. Ny the end of their shifts, they had done their work and even tried to help Ivy but she wouldn't let them.
 "Go home, Emily." Ivy said with a laugh as Emily sighed in defeat. "Fine. But text me when you get home." The raven haired woman said, patting Ivy's shoulder as a goodbye gesture.
 It was nine when Emily left, leaving Hotch and Ivy alone.
 Two hours later, Hotch exited his office, seeking some caffeine to keep him up for the ridiculous amount of paperwork he had for some reason, when he spotted his new agent. "She's still here?" He mumbled to himself, surprised that Ivy was there.
 He shrugged it off and made his way to the coffee machiene, deciding to leave the girl be for now. That was all out the window when he saw the exhaustion in her face when she lifted her head from her paperwork to sip her own coffee.
 So he decided to be a good boos and check on her.
 "Hey, Monroe. You alright?" He asked, reaching her desk.
 Ivy looked up from her files and smiled at Hotch, nodding her head. "Yeah, I just want to get these out of the way so I have less for tomorrow." She said with a soft smile, making Hotch smile too.
 She's interesting.
 "What are you still doing here?" Ivy asked back, as Hotch sighed and rubbed his eyes, "Chief duties." He said with a faint smile, making Ivy giggle. "It's eleven at night." Ivy pointed out, a soft smile on her face.
 "Your point?"
 "It's too late to work."
 "You're working too."
 "Not for long." Ivy smirked, tapping her pen shut and putting her hair up, "I'm officially done with these, plus if I stay an other minute awake I actually think I'll go crazy." She chuckled, taking the thick stack of files in her arms.
 "I'll take them to my office, don't worry about it; go home." Hotch said, putting the full coffee mug down on Ivy's desk as he reached for the papers. "It's fine, Hotch, honestly." Ivy tried to stop him, but he insisted.
 "You look exhausted, Monroe. Leave those to me and go rest." Ivy gave up and sighed with a smile, "Fine." She passed the files over to Hotch, who easily held them up with one hand while Ivy needed both.
 Damn.
 Ivy sighed and put her coat on, placing her bag over her shoulder. She finished off her coffee and threw away the papercup, while making sure she got everything she needed. Once she gathered the last of her things, she walked to the doors about to leave when a voice called out to her.
 "Goodnight Monroe." Hotch's voice called out, not even looking at her as he opened the door to his office.
 "Goodnight Hotch." Ivy chuckled, shaking her head as she walked to the elevators, calling it a day finally.
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judasgot-it · 2 months
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Happy Birthday
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I'm throwing almonds at him in my mind <3 Also, idgaf if it's not August 3rd, it's August 3rd somewhere in the world....
Also, this was going to be part of an arranged marriage au but I've kinda scrapped it. so this is just kinda there now lol.
It's been twenty-seven years since Kaldo was born. Today, you were planning on making him a cake he would actually enjoy, and not one he would shovel into his face in front of his family and guests as he pretended to enjoy it.
The man was born powerful and wealthy. He had everything.
What he didn't have, was the free choice over his own birthday cake.
He was almost thirty, and he never even had a choice in it. He didn't even have a choice in being engaged to you, or his job - honestly, the only thing he seemed to have a choice over might have been his strange love of honey.
Maybe you were born lucky with your low status. You had chosen to climb to the top, and got to marry a wealthy man mostly by choice.
Now you got to spoil him with a birthday cake - by your own choice.
He had once mentioned once to you before, offhandedly, that he had really loved gelatinous fish cake - of course, topped with honey. One of the stranger combinations he had made, and one cake that he had always wanted to try again, but was banned from bringing into his family home.
For good reason, you supposed. It seemed a little...gross. Honestly, it was one of the first times you had ever disliked one of his strange food tastes.
But it was a cake. And it was his birthday.
He would get to eat that damn cake. Social rules be damned.
It wasn't really easy finding a place that even made the cake. The man must have visited hell itself in order to try the delicacy, because you had only found one cook in the local area who even knew what it was.
It frankly looked disgusting when you laid eyes on it, and it looked horrible as it sat on your breakfast table. But it wasn't for you - it was for the man sitting in front of you, staring at you as if you were as strange as the cake itself.
And really, is it even a cake? There's no frosting, and it's fucking fish for god's sake. In gelatin. Who would even think of such a thing?
"Is this for me?"
Kaldo's voice was weak, his usual airy tone nearly lost in the shock that was slapped across his face. His crimson eyes were boring holes at you, and it was frankly a little disturbing.
"...Yes. You said you had liked it before, and I thought it would be nice to get it for you. I know you don't like regular cake that much."
He was a freak, really. The man would rather put his sweet honey on anything that didn't go with it. Cake would be a reasonable match, but instead, coffee and raw fish were his preferred mixups.
How strange.
"I did. I did mention that, didn't I." The man took the fork set out just for him, taking a bite of the cake as if it were a delicacy. His face was practically spread open in a wide grin, ear to ear as he slowly chewed on it.
This was the most you had ever seen him enjoy a cake. The one at his last birthday party had him in near tears from how much he had hated the flavor - chocolate, without any honey to subside the pain of putting it in his mouth.
But Kaldo was practically drooling as he dug into his sad little cake. He had taken to pouring a rich honey on it, as if it would make a difference in the texture of fish and gelatin.
"Do you," It was stupid to ask, given that he was nearly done destroying the disgusting dish. His face was smeared with honey and pieces of fish, and you only smiled back as a stupid grin spread across his face. "Do you like it? Sorry if it's not the gift you expected."
You made him walk all the way to your home for it. On his birthday as well.
Frankly, you were a rather horrible wife-to-be.
"If I were to be honest..." Kaldo put down his fork, looking down at the remaining pieces of his cake. It was more like a soup now, as his took the prongs of his tool and played with the pieces that remained.
"...I think this is the best birthday gift I've ever received."
"Is it really?"
The lily-haired man nodded, his bangs somehow spared from the mess that was spread across his face. He looked like a bear that had found a beehive, and with the smile he wore, it was obvious that he felt like a winner.
"You know? We need this at our wedding. It's a really good cake."
"What?"
This was the first time Kaldo had ever mentioned something like that. The man was rather silent about those things - as far as you knew, he had only agreed to marry you because it was a good tax write-off for the both of you.
"If you want it, sure. We'll have two cakes." You wanted to be a good wife, really.
"...Really?"
"Why not? It's your wedding too."
It was subtle, a barely noticeable detail in the character he portrayed to you. But his shoulders relaxed, his spine deflating from the stiff posture he kept at all times. His arms leaned against the table, and his neck rolled around to lean to the side.
It looked as if he truly relaxed for once in his life.
"...Yeah. Why not indeed."
I'm lowkey just writing whatever the fuck I want rn, Kaldo is just my muse rn.
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rogersideup · 1 year
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Nice to be Kneaded
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Chapter one:
Welcome to Greenwood
Series Masterlist
Next Part: Inhale, Exhale.
Word Count: 4,893
Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.
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The sound of the bell rattling on the front door pulled your mind away from the cake on the rotating stand in front of you and the piping bag in your hand. Coincidentally, you had just sent your cashier to break so you moved your work station to the decorating desk visible to the doorframe into the kitchen of your bakery, allowing you to see the customers as they walked in.
"Hey there, honey! I'll be right with ya'." You greeted the customer as you piped out the final details on the custom ordered cake you had spent the last half an hour perfecting.
"No worries, take your time." A polite voice responded.
Your head immediately turned at the sound of the deep and slightly raspy voice you had never heard before. In a scanty little town like Greenwood, you swore just about every friendly face within thirty miles of your bakery had stopped by for a treat at least once. You could recognize just about anyone with a blindfold on and nothing but the sound of a friendly greeting, but that charming bass was one you'd be sure to recognize if you've heard it before.
It belonged to a face you'd also be sure to recognize. An over six-foot stunner with blue eyes, a nicely groomed beard, and what looked like dirty blonde hair hidden behind a baseball cap.
You grinned before looking back at your cake, trying to process the new specimen in the lobby. It only took a few seconds before placing the piping bag down and ripping off your gloves, curiously walking out to behind the counter to help him out.
"Sorry about that, what can I get'cha?" Since you closed most of the distance, nothing but the bake case between you two, you got to notice more detail.
There was some serious muscle happening underneath the black long sleeved shirt he was wearing. Also, he was really good at picking out jeans that fit him perfectly in all the right places. Oh, and there was just a dash of green in the blue of his eyes.
"Just a chocolate chip cookie please." He asked timidly. You could tell he felt a little out of place, rocking back and forth on his heels in attempts to sooth his unsettled energy.
"Anything else?" You grinned.
"No thank you." He gently shook his head and walked over to the register as you put his cookie in a pastry bag.
"Okay but I'm giving you two cookies, because I think anyone who only gets one cookie is lying to themselves." You called out with a friendly smile, earning a chuckle from the man.
It allowed you to get a good look at his smile. He had pretty pink lips and perfect pearly whites.
Now, it was time for the investigative process you perfected to the tee. It usually started with an extra cookie and a big sparkling smile, followed by some friendly questions, and ending with a 'hope to see you again sometime soon'. You didn't mean to be invasive, really, you just needed to have all the answers when your neighbor, Georgia, asks for more information once you inevitably ask her if she knows anything about the new stunner in town.
"Well thank you, I appreciate that." He grinned, pulling the wallet out of his jeans.
"I don't think I've seen you around before, are you driving through?" You asked.
Steve shifted once more as he thought about how to answer this question. Almost every news station in the country was covering the chase for the missing superheroes post-raft-escape following the Civil War. His face had been plastered on every the cover of every news paper, fliers stapled to street lamps, posted on bulletin boards in what felt like every coffee shop in the country. If he was still in the 40's he was sure his face would take the place of the missing persons on the sides of milk cartons.
It had been just a few long months shy of a year , just long enough to grow out his hair and beard to make himself as unrecognizable as he could manage. Though he was still the poster boy of disorder within the states, it had calmed down enough for him to feel comfortable trying to settle down for as long as he safely could.
He finally found someone to rent him a house in a town quaint enough for his liking that was willing to accept under the table cash payments in rent, no proof of income, and didn't ask too many questions.
"I'm actually moving to Greenwood in the next couple days, I just picked up the keys to my new place. Saw the bakery sign and decided to stop by, figured a new start is grounds for a little celebrating." Steve explained, convincing enough.
All he could do was cross his fingers in hopes you didn't care about politics or the news enough to recognize his face.
"Really? What made you want to move here?"
He shrugged, and his lips stretched into a straight line. "Just wanted to go somewhere quiet and relaxing I guess. You know, the simple life."
"Well, most people here spend their days chasing something a bit more exciting and busy. I think you're in for exactly what you hoped for" You reassured him. "I'm sorry, honey, I didn't catch your name?"
The pet name that seemed to run off your tongue without a second thought felt warm and welcoming to him. In the big city, a sentiment like that was a title that was typically earned, but here it was given with almost an immediate understanding that everyone around was inherently good and trustworthy. He almost didn't want to tell you his name so he could keep hearing the word slip passed your lips.
"Oh, sorry!" He apologized. "I'm Steven."
Steven? Really? Already off to a bad start. He told himself when he settled down for a bit he'd be distant to the people around him. Never get too close, never tell the truth, go by an alias. But for some reason, he just couldn't get himself to lie to you. You just seemed too sweet for that.
As he took another look around his new surroundings, he chalked it up to be the homey atmosphere of the bakery. The walls were covered in tasteful art installations, celebrating the very pastries that were being perfectly displayed in the illuminated case. Although the color schemes of earth tones, contrasting yet complementary wood colors and grains, and mixed metals seemed like it wouldn't work for a bakery, it worked for this bakery. It was warm and inviting; the polished concrete floors reminded him of the home he once knew. The wall-full of jarred sprinkles in all sorts of different blends and colors to match with the bakery and playfully pull the interests of customers eyes made him feel a sense of child like wonder again.
The booths were built into cozy corners, there were lounge areas with low to the floor tables with alternate seating, a tasteful shelf full of board games for families and friends alike to play together while enjoying a coffee and a treat.
It smelled like browning butter and vanilla beans. There were throw pillows on the booths and lounges. On the main wall behind the bake case and above the beautiful espresso machines read the name of the shop, 'Nice to be kneaded' in a warm golden neon glow.
Steven it is.
"Well, Steven," You handed him the bag of cookies, he hesitated to take them from you. "Everyone who decides to make a home out of Greenwood deserves a warm welcome. Here's to a quiet and relaxing new start."
"Thanks I appreciate it" He smiled. "How much for the cooki-"
"They're on me today" You insisted.
"I couldn't possibly do that" he declined the offer. He was used to the generous hand outs as Steve Rogers, but never just as Steven. "Please let me pa-"
"Nope." You stepped back from the register. "Take them and go before I force you to take a third one!"
"So threatening!" He smiled and put his hands up in defense. "Thank you so much"
"Of course, have a good day! Hope to see you again soon." You waved, walking back into the kitchen to finish off the cake that was almost near perfect.
"Have a good one"
After finishing up the cake, you tagged the board with the invoice of the correct customer, then walked it back into the front to the cake display fridge to pop it in so it would be perfect and ready for pickup later that day.
You started tidying up the lobby of the store by re-organizing all of your retail items. Cute candy bars, greeting cards made by local artists, birthday candles, and the wall shelves full of sprinkles. You had a knack for making sure your store looked perfect and pristine at all times. It took a lot of blood, sweat and tears to get to where you were now, so you'd be damned if you let it be anything less than perfect.
You tidied up the bake case one last time and straightened up the register before the tip jar caught your eye, inside of it was a crisp $20 bill that definitely wasn't there before Steven.
Though there were a few customers in the store, all of them were students looking for a calm place to study. Headphones over their ears, their noses dug into their laptops. None of them had even moved in the last twenty minutes.
The smile and eye roll that took over your face was almost invasive, and you instantly knew the polite man would have no issue fitting in here in Greenwood.
Though you let your precious employees keep their well earned tip, you did take a $20 bill out from your own wallet and vowed to keep it with you every day until you hopefully found Steven again.
Just like every other day, you stayed at work until it was far too late before locking up and going home. You didn't even get passed your open car door in the driveway before your beloved neighbor Georgia was exiting her front door and running out of her house to greet you.
"It's about damn time, sweet cheeks, I was near ready to file a missing persons report!" She enthused.
Georgia never failed to be your best friend, gossip buddy, and the honorary mother you always wished you had. She'd send her husband to bed alone all night just to stay up and make sure you got home okay if she knew you were out late.
"Sorry" you giggled, grabbing the box of pastries you brought home with you and handing them to her. "Busy day! Treats for your troubles?"
She happily took the box from you knowing that whenever she was given one, there was always something mind-meltingly delicious on the inside. "You know Michael and I have put on a good five pounds in the last few months, and I fully blame you for it."
"Hey! I know you love a big boy, I'm doing you nothing but favors." You denied the blame. "Plus, you're pretty as a peach. A sweet thing like you deserves a sweet treat at least once a day."
"I ran over here to tell ya, we're hosting game night for the block on Saturday. If you don't come I'm going to keep rescheduling it until you do." She insisted.
"Saturday sounds lovely." You accepted the invitation. "What can I bring?"
"Just your pretty face"
"Okay, I'll bring salted caramel bars" You smiled.
"Bring a date" Georgia insisted.
"Now now, watch yourself..." You scolded, pointing your finger at her.
"You've been living in this beautiful house all by your lonesome for three years now. You know all I want is for you to be happy"
"I'm happy all on my own." You insisted with a smile you really had to force yourself to smear across your face. "I don't need a man to make me happy, I've got everything I need."
"You've got no one to prove that to but yourself, sweet cheeks." Georgia reached out and pinched your cheek between her fingers lovingly once she saw how deflated you became..
"Believe it or not, it's kind've hard to find someone worth your time in greenwood when your only options are guys you've already tried your hand at" You defended yourself.
"And what's wrong with that?" Georgia sassed.
"All the good ones are married, and all the bad ones are still bad. So if you don't mind, I'll be bringing some salted caramel bars on Saturday." You smiled.
"I haven't given up hope, and you shouldn't either!"
"Who said anything about giving up hope?" You furrowed your brows together and cocked your head to the side.
"...you have a good night now darlin'" Georgia smiled with a slight chuckle before waving and starting to walk away.
"Mmmmhmmm" You sassed. "Enjoy those pastries."
"I always do!"
The moment you walked into your humble abode, you could feel the weight of your day fall off your shoulders. Even more so as you put down your bag, kicked off your shoes, and dragged your feet up the stars with a heavy thunk on each step just to get yourself into the warm shower you had been dreaming of since waking up at 3:30am. 
Just like a responsible adult, you cooked and fed yourself dinner then ate it on the couch with a thick faux fur blanket over your lap while watching The Great British Baking Show. Georgia liked to yell at you when she invasively yet also somehow welcomely showed up at your house with no warning and caught you using your time away from baking to, well, watch a show about baking?
Your defense was that their recipes are just so different over there! The difference in American and British flavor palettes was immense, and you loved getting new ideas for fun new pastries and flavors to implement onto the rotating menu.
After scolding you, you'd point to the Television above your fireplace to show her how they were doing a technical challenge to bake the perfect Victoria sponge cake, a quintessential and uniquely british dessert, and how that was so much different than your typical vanilla sponge in the States. Then, it would peak her interest.
You were never really sure if she was actually interested, or if she only payed attention because she desperately thought you needed someone to listen to you. Sometimes when you babbled on about baking, she would slow blink at your before gently saying, "Baby, you might as well be speaking a whole other language to me right now, but I'm just so happy you're doing what you love."
She'd get comfortable on your couch as you made her a cup of tea, the end up staying until her husband Michael called and reminded her that she had a husband at home.
But tonight you were happy to just be shoving some pesto pasta in your face with the company of no one but Netflix in complete peace. The small sensation of an almost distant ache in the back of your head also had you thankful that they had finally either finished, or were taking a break from construction on the little house next door to yours.
You didn't mind it much at first, you were gone for most of the day to miss the sounds of sawing and jackhammering, but sometimes the sounds would continue even after sunset and keep you awake past your geriatric bedtime. Sleep was very important when you had to wake up before the sun.
But your mama raised you to love thy neighbor and keep patience and grace close to your heart, so you bit your tongue for five long months and occasionally showered the construction workers in warm breakfast sandwiches and croissants. You hoped that their awareness to the neighbors occupation would keep them from working late into the night, but nope. You just continued biting your tongue a little harder.
Even worse than you was Andy and Phoebe that lived two doors down, the construction happened sandwiched between you two, and they had their new born baby girl at home through all of that banging and drilling. Apparently little Willow could now sleep through anything. Their dog barking at the sound of a door bell wasn't even an equal contender against the baby who had been subconsciously trained to stay calm in the midst of chaos.
You were in bed by 7 pm, up at 3am, back at work by 4am with $20 in your back pocket. A little part of you felt stupid while slipping the green bill into your denim jeans, it was quite delusional to assume the man would be back so soon, let alone at all, but a bigger part of you couldn't stand that his free cookies were not free.
The empty bake case was filled to the brim by 6:30am, all custom orders were done by 7. You barely even got a chance to wipe the sweat off your hairline from your face being in front of the oven before taking off your chefs coat and hair net and switching it to a front-of-house apron.
You had an excellent team of trained bakers, decorators, baristas, and a cashier, but that didn't stop you from getting your hands dirty by any means. Though your team was mighty, collectively you were tiny. Only 9 employees to hold the busiest bakery in the greater area down, you tended to step in wherever you were needed the most.
Today, you just happened to be taking orders and handing out latte's through morning rush before dedicating the rest of your day on getting a head start on custom orders for tomorrow.
Then tomorrow came around and all you did was start the dough for a few loaves of sourdough, your girls were going to take over after the first rise so you could focus on the payroll and product order placement that would be delivered on Friday. You got done all the boring stuff, responded to customer emails, printed out the invoices of all the orders through Friday, sorted through and organized the endless amounts of cookie cutters in the kitchen, then cleaned out the fridge to make sure all the ingredients were properly labeled and within date.
You worked one more day after that before having your first day off in 10 days. Yes, you made your own schedule. Yes, you worked far too much. No, that's not your fault.
You started by going on a short run, and taking a shower before going to the little diner 10 minutes down the road with Georgia for breakfast. The summer heat made your thighs stick to the leather booth beneath you, and the ceiling fans gently moved your hair around but you didn't seem to mind much. How could anything be a bother to your while you we're sneakily stealing a forkful of pancakes from your Neighbor's plate as her eyes were stuck on the news that was playing on an old TV in the upper corner of the diner.
You smiled as she peeled her eyes away just to glare at you while you stuck the syrupy goodness in your mouth. A bit of sticky maple caught on your lip, threatening to drip down your chin before you even got a chance to lick it off.
"Child, you are a mess." She shook her head at you and handed you a napkin. "How are they?"
"Heavenly." You giggled, wiping away the warm syrup on your face. "Hey, is it okay if I have a bite?" You questioned after stealing her food.
"You're like the child I never wanted." She insulted in good fun. Her being in her mid-fifties and you being late twenties- early thirty something, she loved to tease you because she knew you could take it in good fun. "See what you could've had if you didn't order... whatever that is?"
"An omelette?" You giggled. "I was in it for the side of hash-browns."
"Mmmm" Georgia tried to stay engaged, but her eyes kept wandering back to the news on the television.
You quickly looked up at the TV facing you in the opposite corner to the one she had her eyes on, but all you saw was pictures of Black Widow. She was beautiful, you always were jealous of her stunning fiery red hair and strength. You didn't pay much attention to why the bottom banner across the screen said 'Breaking News: Emergency Broadcast". Nothing Natasha Romanoff could've done was more important to the crispy shredded potatoes in front of you.
You didn't know much about the Civil War besides the basics. Most of what you knew came from Georgia and Michael. Politics was never your strong suit, you're pretty sure you almost failed government class back in high school. However, politics was something Michael was very... passionate about.
His political opinions were strong, and he wasn't shy to let you know about them. Whenever you were over at their house for dinner and the topic came up, you tended to just let him get it all out while you soaked it in and ate silently.
Though you didn't have an extensive knowledge on economics or how congressional issues worked, you did know how you felt about social issues. Most of the time; your opinions did not match up with Michael. And most of the time Georgia soaked in and inherited all of Michael's political stances.
Only a few times did you seek out information on the bombing of the United Nations meeting and the sokovia accords by your own means. Mostly because you felt like the information you were getting from Michael was probably influenced by his own stance on the matter. But from what you gathered, it was a complex issue you couldn't even begin to put your nose in. Especially since they were all superheroes arguing over what was the correct thing to do.
You grew up very much in the mindset of not judging people until you've walked a mile in their shoes, and walking in their shoes was impossible. Especially superhero shoes with jet blasters and and steel toes.
So as Georgia stated, "Miss Romanoff had so much potential, why she wasted it on protecting a brain washed assassin I will never understand." you stole another bite of her pancakes and shoved them into your mouth.
In turn, she stole some of your hash-browns and looked at you, waiting for feedback on her remark. "What did she do now?" You asked.
"She was found on American soil. The secretary tried detaining her considering she's a fugitive but she slipped passed his fingers." Georgia explained. "They're asking for tips trying to find her again."
You nodded your head in understanding of the urgency in the news broadcast, but you didn't exactly feel like having a passionate discussion about morals in the middle of a notoriously conservative small down.
"I guess I just don't understand why the government is treating Captain America's friends as criminals when they've all done so much to protect us... Aren't they just trying to do the right thing?" You questioned carefully as to not start an argument.
"Sweetheart it's not about what they used to do for us, it's about what they've done recently. They broke the law, destroyed public and private property, and broke out of the highest security prison in the world all because they didn't want to be controlled by the United Nations." Georgia explained.
"...but the issue was that they didn't want to be controlled, it was that they wanted to come up with a different solution because lives would be lost while waiting for the whole United Nations to decide what business they could stick their noses in, right?" You framed your opinion as a question once more as to appease any potential anger.
"Captain America and his whole team of friends became war criminals the moment they turned their backs on the government. It's really that simple." She insisted.
You looked back up to the TV to see the pictures of Captain America, Black Widow, Scarlet Witch, the Falcon, the Winter Soldier, Ant-Man, and Hawkeye all looking back at you. The atmosphere between you and Georgia had gone quiet allowing you to hear the broadcasters voice.
'... if you see any of these individuals, do not approach. They are dangerous. Call 911. Remember, failure to report these individuals will be considered a misdemeanor punishable by jail time and a hefty fine. Do not approach.'
You observed the picture of the winter soldier in much more detail than the others, then your eyes grazed over Captain America.
One more big mouthful of your breakfast before an invasive thought overtook your brain and caused you to laugh out loud.
"What's got you laughing over there?" Georgia smiled at your antics.
"The winter soldier is so handsome, I think I'd become a war criminal trying to defend him too." You spat out between invasive laughter causing Georgia to laugh along with you no matter how hard she tried to contain it.
"I outta wash your mouth out with soap!" She laughed.
"Hey! No potty mouth here, just speaking the truth"
"This is why you need a boyfriend!" She smiled, pointing her pancake filled fork at you. "And a good one at that! I don't need to be seeing my baby girl all up in the news one day with the word 'wanted' written in bold red letters across her face."
"Hey, I've actually been meaning to ask you!" You started between bites. "A handsome fella came into the shop a few days ago. Said he was moving to greenwood in a few days, d'ya know anything about that?"
"What'd he look like, darlin'?" She questioned further. "I saw a stunner meet up with the owner of the house next door to yours while I was watering my peonies earlier this week. Watched him leave with a key in hand."
"He was tall, but I didn't get to see much to his face. It was blocked by a cap. I think his hair was dirty blonde from what I could see. He had really nice jeans on-"
"Full beard?" She asked.
"The most luscious and well groomed beard I've ever seen in this part of town." You confirmed with a giggle.
"I damn near blushed when I saw him from across the way! I bet he's moving in to that house then!" She enthused with a big smile. "Maybe this will be your escape from the Greenwood boys!"
"Are you kidding me? A man like that always comes a long with a wife and way too many children." You giggled.
"I bet that boy would make some beautiful babies" She kicked your leg underneath the table. "As would you."
"Not anytime soon" You shook your head with a blush in your cheeks.
"You know pregnancies over the age of 35 are considered geriatric?" She said backhandedly.
"Then consider me the oldest grandma in the nursing home." You denied once more
"I didn't see no ring on that man's finger, so he's single until proven married." Georgia smiled. "What did he get at the bakery?"
"One chocolate chip cookie" You hid your grin behind your hand holding your fork.
She raised her eyebrows mid pancake bite, chewing before speaking again as to not be impolite, but you already knew what she was thinking. "A married man would never get a cookie for just himself and not his wife. He's definitely single."
"Well he did say he drove into town for the key, so maybe he ate it before she even knew he had a cookie in the first place. Plus, I gave him two. You know how I feel about people who get one cookie..."
"So he's either single or the worst husband a girl could have. If Michael ever skipped out on getting me a cookie I'd divorce his ass on the spot." She shook her head.
"Why would you ever need Michael to bring you cookies when you have me, anyways?" You questioned, faking jealousy.
"Baby doll you're all I need" She smiled and reached over to squeeze your hand.
"That's more like it." You laughed.
Georgia smoothed over the pain of not being the only cookie provider in her life by paying the breakfast bill, even after you fought her over it for ten whole minutes because you invited her out to breakfast so you could treat her.
And when you two got home, you both immediately noticed all the construction on the house next to yours had been completely cleared out and it looked brand spankin' new.
What once was an older home with lots of rustic character looked more like all the surrounding houses with updated paint, new landscaping, fresh new features. It looked great without all of the dust and equipment blocking the view.
It was officially a home ready to be moved into, and any moment now you would have confirmation if your new neighbor was the same man you desperately owed $20.
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Next Part: Inhale, Exhale
Tag list: @patzammit @bemysugarbean
If you’d like to be added to the tag list for this series, don’t be shy to ask 🤍🧁
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c1tr1sfl0w3rs · 1 year
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Soft!dark!Ethan Landry x pastors!daughter!reader P2
18+ NSFW P1
Your father was a man of God. He taught you the bible and what was right and what was wrong. What happened between you and Ethan, went against everything he had ever taught you.
After it happened you were overwhelmed with guilt, you even took off your purity ring because you couldn't be a liar on top of a whore.
Ethan was a gentleman, which surprised you. The words of your father echoed in your head "Never give it up to a boy before marriage, because once they have what they want they'll leave you looking like a foolish whore." He wasn't like that, he went above and beyond for you, little gifts every day flowers, chocolates or coffee. Ethan reassured you, that what you did together was normal and there was nothing to be ashamed of. He even stayed when you found out you were pregnant. (Of course you didn't know this is what he had wanted.)
You were panicking, how were you going to tell your father? You couldn't get rid of the baby, and lord Ethan stood by you the whole time. He said he would support any choice you made but told you he wanted to keep it, and raise the baby together.
Both of you had made up your mind, you were keeping the baby, which means you had to tell your father. So you decided to soften the blow by calling your mother and arranging a dinner, you said it was so they could meet your boyfriend. The happy giggles from your mother lessened your anxiety, she would be more understanding than your dad, and she would calm him down, get him to forgive you when the time came.
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The dinner was surprisingly pleasant. Ethan and your mother were getting along good, your father was in a better mood than you thought he would be. As the dinner was wrapping up Ethan volunteered to help your mom with the dishes giving you room to talk to your father.
"So daddy, what do you think of him?" Your voice came out stronger than you expected. "He seems like a good kid, I'm just not sure about him yet." The whole dinner you had been very careful about not drawing attention to your hands, so no one would notice your absent ring.
"Dad, I have to tell you something very important. Please promise me you won't be mad?" He looked at you curiously. "Honey I could never stay mad at you, you can tell me anything." Liar, you knew he was lying but you couldn't avoid telling him the truth any longer. "I'm pregnant, and it's Ethan's." You said so quietly you didn't think he heard you, however the way his whole body became tense told you he did.
He put a hand over his eyes, sprt of squeezing his temples. He did some sort of chuckle, your anxiety heightened. You could feel this was about to get ugly. "So that son of a bitch inside made a liar and whore outta my daughter?" He asked so calmly and your tears began to fall. "I'm sorry dad, but he loves me and said he'd stick by me no matter what, he's a good guy."
"So if any guy told you that you'd just spread your legs for them, you're dumber than I thought." The tears turned into sobs at that point. He stood up and made his way into the kitchen. You could hear your father yelling obscenities at Ethan, and Ethan trying to calm him down. Your mother also began to raise her voice telling your dad to back down. All you could do was cry though. What had you expected? This was the consequences of your actions. As the yelling got worse you couldn't take it anymore and went to go sit on the porch.
The warm air felt freeing. The setting sun comforting you, the chirping birds song distracting you from your thoughts and the shouts from inside.
It was a while before your mother beckoned you back inside where she took a seat at the dining table next to you father and across from Ethan. Who you say next to, the second you were sat he took your hand and ran his calming thumb over the back of your hand.
"Sweetheart, your father and I were talking about it and he compromised on a solution. We'll support you both through this if you get married." Your father wouldn't look you in the eye and you knew he would probably disown you if you said no. The problem was you didn't know if that's what Ethan wanted. The both of you were so young and you didn't kno-
Ethan's voice cut you out of your thoughts. "I want to, I'll do it if you want to baby." His attention now turned to you.
Those pesky tears came back and you fell into his arms. He held you so tight but not on a suffocating way, in a way that the ache in your heart lessened.
"We want to get married." Your voice finally spoke, it was shaky and scratchy from crying but it was there.
"Oh honey" your mom came over and hugged you tight. "It'll have to be a quick wedding, but this is so amazing, welcome to the family Ethan."
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The wedding was indeed fast, before you started showing. It was simple but beautiful, your side of the family was surprised but supporting.
Your father had been practically silent since that dinner. At least towards you, but when he walked you down the aisle he gave you a quick hug before letting you go and you knew he had forgiven you.
The ceremony was short and sweet, Ethan's vows were breathtaking, they made you cry. You felt your vows were enough but nothing compared to his. You had your first kiss as wife and husband. Ethan was an aweful dancer, he almost made you fall multiple times. His warm hands over yours as you cut the cake together and fed it to eachother.
You were over the moon and after the wedding was over Ethan took you back to your shared apartment. As you both took off layers of your complex yet beautiful outfits he began to speak.
"Bunny you were so pretty today, had to hold myself back from bending you over and splitting you open on my cock in front of everyone." He came up behind you massaging your shoulders then he leaned real close to your ear "Do you want me to split you open? Make you cry and come until you're all dumb in the head?" His tone was so condescending but the way his breath tickled your cheek. You felt warmth spreading through you, the kind only he knows how to pull from you. "Please Ethan, please please plea-" He laughed, hands that were once massaging your shoulders now pulling down the straps of your gown. Letting it fall to the floor. "Begging already and I haven't even done anything, it's ok I know how desperate you get. Go wait on the bed for me wifey."
You say on the bed patiently waiting for your husband to come take care of you, like he always did. The hormones from the baby made you need him so much it almost hurt.
He finally came in. Only wearing his dress pants. He looked so good, his exposed upper half. His chocolate curls and that mischievous look in those puppy eyes.
"Look at you baby. God you're so pretty."
He walked towards you until he stood between your open legs. Ethan leaned down and you met his lips in a hungry kiss. His tongue lead yours and you moaned into his mouth.
He broke the kiss and gave you the most sinful smile. He fell to his knees, his head leaned against your pillow like thighs. He kissed up and down your legs. Sucking a mark right next to your core.
"Bunny you're so wet." He said as he pulled your panties to the side, your slit dripping for him. He licked a stripe up your folds and you let out a broken moan.
He started to suck on your clit as his fingers teased your opening. It felt so good, there was no way this could be a sin. The man has to be an angel.
His long thick fingers pushed into you and curled up, hitting that special spot. Your thighs tightened around his head as you moaned and moaned.
He ate you like a starved man, getting you closer to that edge. "Oh Ethan, I'm gonna-" You couldn't even say it. The wave of euphoria engulfed you. You clenched around him and he helped you ride it out, but he didn't stop after you came no he kept going at the same pace. He lapped at your clit and fucked you with his fingers. "It's too much, Ethan please." You tried to pull away but his hand on your hip kept you anchored. "I'm not done with you. You can take it." He said quickly then went back to devouring you. The second orgasm came embarrassingly quickly, and somewhat painfully. You were so overstimulated but he just kept going.
Your head was foggy, all you could do was moan. Ethan had been between your legs for what seemed like forever. You don't even know how many times you had come. "Etha- oh God please I can't" you said, voice scratchy as you tried to get away from his overwhelming touch. He didn't say anything, just sped up his efforts between your legs. You came again, except this time you squirted in his mouth. He made sure none of it went to waste, and finally he moved away from your sore pussy. He looked at you like you were the most precious thing ever, and to him you were. Legs shaking like a baby deer, tears down your face and a cute gushing pussy. You were his own paradise. He looked just as disheveled, your slick running down his chin, curls a mess from you tugging on them and his aching dick, bulging out of his dress pants.
He pulled his pants and boxers down, and held onto his aching cock. The tip flushed red leaking precum. Then he slid your sticky panties down your trembling legs. "Hope you didn't think I was done yet bunny. Need to feel your sweet pussy." You moaned at his words and knew you were gonna feel him for days after this.
He gave you no warning, he just pushed inside you, your previous orgasms making it easy. He let out a pathetic moan as he began to fuck you at a brutal pace. His hips pistoning into yours. His pubic bone hitting your sensitive clit and his balls slapping against your ass. You couldn't think or feel anything but him, not even noticing you were drooling all over your sheets. "Awh poor baby can't even take my cock without going dumb even though she was begging for it earlier." He felt you clenching on his dick and knew he wasn't gonna last with the way your pussy was sucking him in. He lifted your legs from around his waist and placed them on his shoulders. The new angle making you cry out. His brutal pace didn't stop as he circled your clit. You came hard and he fucked you through it, and finally he painted your inside with his cum. "You did so good for my bubby, I love you, now let's get you cleaned up." He said but as he saw his cum trickle out of you he pushed it back in with two fingers. "Gotta make sure my baby stays nice and full with my cum."
As he cleaned you with a wet rag he couldn't help but smile, his plan had went much better than he thought. You now had his last name, with a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly. He didn't think your parents would demand the two of you get married but it made keeping you so much easier. He was gonna make sure that after you gave birth to his first child that you were pregnant again. He was gonna keep you nice and filled with babies <3
AHSJSJSN Ethan brain rot, hope you enjoyed and let me know what you wanna see next.
Sunny out ✌️
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creedslove · 6 months
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Proving Dave York's marriage wasn't going that great - Equalizer 2
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First of all, I'd like to remind you all besties that I'm a Dave York apologist and I will forever defend this man no matter how many atrocities he's done (and were those really atrocities? Debatable) and I have also villainized Carol and I have zero regrets about it, so let's go:
• Exhibit A: The trip to Belgium
Susan and Dave are in a virtual meeting talking about the recent case, she knows shes gonna have to travel all the way to Belgium to investigate and invites Dave, who immediately goes like "and leaving this shitty office?"
But, what if the office isn't really his main problem? What if Dave was also looking forward to leaving the house for a little while? A trip to another country seems refreshing and also the belgium chocolate? Dave's excited... And as a husband and a father of two not once he thinks of bringing his family some chocolate? It's a sign of a stressed man who needs some time on his own
• Exhibit B: the hotel hall
Dave and Susan are going over the evidence they found in the crime scene, gathering hypothesis on what could've happened and Dave says there's no records of the victim cheating on his wife with anyone, not even flirty texts and Susan is like "come on, Dave women fuck around too"
And that's Dave's reaction:
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He's like: well....
(also, sorry for the horrible quality of the pic but you besties get the point and also his tummy 🤤)
And then Susan asks him when was the last time Dave sent his wife flowers and all Dave says is: "noted, noted"
So that indicates it has been a long time since Dave has sent her flowers... So the romance is dead, and if the romance is dead so is their sexual life. Was Dave thinking about the possibility of Carol herself fucking around? And let's face it, she probably is
• Exhibit C: the kitchen scene
Commonly used to prove the point that no matter if Dave's an assassin, he's also a good father, the kitchen scene reveals more about his marriage than anything else; we see Dave's got a huge, beautiful house, and then we go to the kitchen. It's spacious, nice, and modern... And messy. One of the kids is whining about grapes and going to the dentist and the other one is doing the homework and Dave and Carol? Absolutely no sign of a loving couple, no pecking on the lips, exchanging glances, a little flirting... Nothing. They are just ignoring each other, Dave's got his cup of coffee and hand and checking his phone as if he's alone.
Then when Carol goes to answer the door, he's giving his youngest daughter attention, he is a good dad, but it isn't a heartwarming interaction between them, and above all, he seems bored, like yeah the kids are cute but he's got more important things to do
And then, when Carol takes a while to come back with McCall, Dave calls her by her name twice, of course he raised his voice because she was in another room and he wanted her to hear him, but it always seemed just so dry and harsh to me and I couldn't exactly figure why it was like that, until I finally got it:
no pet names at all
Seriously?! No darling, honey, baby, sweetheart?! Just a simple dry "CAROL" a couple of times and that's it? It smells like a marriage crisis to me...
• Exhibit D: the driveway scene
The scene where McCall runs into his old team and promises to kill them all; there's enough tension as it is, they all know McCall means business and he is low-key threatening Dave's family by pretending he's so nice and friendly and wanting to get a ride
(I just need to address how dumb and careless is to allow McCall, a man she's never seen in her life get a ride with her and get so cozy around her kids, I mean yeah, he's her husband's army buddy but he's also an old man who also happens to be a complete stranger and he suddenly wants to be around her and her kids, I mean, fuck off)
And Dave knows it's likely one of the last times he's gonna see his family... And what does he do? Does he hug them? Give Carol a peck on the lips? He does NOTHING!!!
So you know what it means? Carol wasn't worthy of her husband, they didn't love each other anymore and Dave would be way better off with me instead 😉🤪
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dom-guilfoyle · 5 months
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By now you may have already heard, at long last, what a man with a voice like honey and chocolate and coffee all at once.
Turns out, it sounds like David Ault!
David (he/him) is a voice actor from North Yorkshire, UK. He started voice acting with Darker Projects in 2005, moving through The Byron Chronicles, Pendant Audio, Colonial Radio Theatre to modern day antics with Fool & Scholar, the NoSleep Podcast team and Shadows at the Door: The Podcast. He’s a big fan of tea, ghosts and astronomy, and can be found online @DavidAult on Twitter, or www.davidault.co.uk
Great to have you on board, David!
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misshoneyimhome · 8 months
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250 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL
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"Because I know you" I Frederik Andersen
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Summary; Encountering a handsome man sitting solo in a coffee shop late at night was far from what you envisioned as the beginning of a close relationship with the Danish goaltender
Tropes & warnings; Strangers to friends, friends to lovers, clueless reader, sweetheart Freddie; no warnings
Other notes; nothing really - just a little something on my favourite Danish man 🤍 Hope you like it
Word count; 2.3K
➼。゚
Frederik Andersen was probably the most significant and conflicting person in your life.
He was the dependable pillar offering solace and steadiness, yet he was also the type of friend with whom you could engage in heated arguments.
Freddie always exuded calmness and kindness, likely the most amiable man you'd ever encountered. But he could also be incredibly stubborn, much like yourself.
You could transition from being the closest of friends to quarrelling about trivial matters in the blink of an eye, only to return to being close friends again.
Whether it was debating what to have for dinner, with you suggesting something in line with his diet and training, only for him to argue why it wasn't suitable for you or discussing the ideal snacks for a movie night.
And over time, your disagreements would delve into more personal subjects like dating, relationships, and even sexual experiences.
However, as much as you would argue, he would equally be your closest confidant, providing comfort and support. He was always there for you, whether it was calming your nerves before a work presentation or lending a sympathetic ear after a rough day.
Despite his incredibly hectic schedule, he always managed to carve out time for you, and you did the same for him.
Though, your girlfriends often found it a bit odd hearing about the amount of time you spent with Freddie. They always wondered why you were always at the rink, cheering him on during games, and hanging out with him on his days off. And naturally, they'd ask the obvious questions:
"If you spend so much time together, why aren't you dating?"
"Are you sure you're not in love with him?"
"What would happen if either of you started dating someone?"
But you easily dismissed their inquiries. You and Freddie were simply good friends, and neither of you ever viewed each other as anything more.
**
It all began in a quiet little coffee shop.
You had moved to the city just a few days prior, and now you were treating yourself to a late-night hot chocolate.
And as you’d entered the coffee shop, Freddie was already seated there. Initially, you hadn't noticed him, but when he stood up from his seat and approached you, almost nervously, he caught your attention.
"Hi, sorry, but are you... Denise?" 
His voice was gentle, his imposing figure towering over you, and a faint smile beginning to form on his lips. 
"Uhm, no… I’m sorry," you replied, shaking your head softly. 
And you could see the disappointment wash over his face, his fleeting hopes dashed once again. Then he politely excused himself and returned to his seat.
However, as you ordered and waited for your hot drink, you couldn't help but steal glances in his direction, wondering why such a handsome man was sitting alone, waiting for 'Denise.'
And seeing him still seated as you collected your drink, his fingers idly playing with the coffee mug in front of him, you decided to strike up a conversation.
"Hey there, are you alright?" you asked, with a hint of concern.
He looked slightly surprised as he glanced up at you. "Oh yeah... just um... waiting for someone..."
There was a hint of sadness in his tone, his honey-brown eyes reflecting a sense of defeat.
"For Denise?"
"Yeah... but I guess she probably won't show..." he attempted a faint smile, though it seemed forced.
In that moment, Freddie had to acknowledge that he'd been stood up.
Your heart went out to him. He appeared so gentle and kind that you couldn't help but feel drawn to learn more about his story.
So, stepping a bit out of your usual character, you decided to take a chance, thinking it might be worthwhile to try making some new friends in this new town.
And Freddie was more than happy when you asked to join him. Though he had already resigned himself to leaving within the next minute or so, you managed to change his mind
"I'm y/n," you introduced yourself as you took a seat opposite him.
"I'm Freddie."
His smile had grown slightly, a sense of relief evident in his demeanour.
"Well, Freddie, whoever this Denise is... she's out of her mind for standing you up like this... I mean, it's just so rude," you tried to comfort him with a light chuckle.
"Yeah, I suppose so... guess that's just the downside of agreeing to go on blind dates."
And from that moment, the conversation flowed effortlessly. Something that felt a little strange to you; no awkward moments with this stranger, just a gradual process of getting to know each other, sharing laughter and smiles.
You just felt an immediate sense of openness with Freddie, and soon you found yourself spending more time at the rink than you ever imagined. Hockey was somewhat new to you, at least in terms of watching it several times a week. But you had a blast learning about the sport, especially with Freddie as your guide.
And since he had also recently moved to the city, he enjoyed teaching you about his passion. While he had his team to hang out with every day, and you had your new colleagues in Raleigh, the time you spent together was like no other.
**
A year and a half later, it felt as if nothing had changed.
Although both of you had become much busier since your initial meeting, you still managed to find time to be together. There were even nights when you stayed at his place while he was away, as your roommate often had guests over, and over time you found solace and tranquillity at Freddie's flat. Plus, he had a much larger TV for watching away games, and a comfy sofa where you could snuggle up under a blanket and enjoy some snacks.
But then things began to shift ever so slightly. You were encouraged by a few colleagues to dip your toes into the online dating scene, and while Freddie remained your rock through all the disappointing dates, he started to feel a bit uncomfortable being the shoulder you leaned on whenever things didn't work out.
Not that you were overly dramatic about it; you ended things with guys just as often as they ended things with you.
However, after several instances of hearing about your likes and dislikes regarding the guys you'd been set up with, those you'd given a chance only for them to end things with you, Freddie decided to address it.
"Y/n," he began as the two of you strolled down the street, holding cups of beverages. "Maybe you should take a break from dating, just for a while."
His suggestion didn't exactly resonate with how you were feeling about your dating life at the moment, but as always, honesty was key between the two of you, and you valued his input.
"Hmm, maybe, but I'm actually having quite a bit of fun," you said cheerfully, briefly glancing up at the tall ginger-haired man. "I mean, I've been having so much sex, I'm not sure I can live without it!" you playfully added, prompting Freddie to let out a deep chuckle.
“Well, great sex is important. But don’t you think you've been playing the field enough?”
“Hmm, I suppose. I just... I don’t know. I feel like I've almost got everything; a good job, stable finances, good friends. I guess the only thing I miss is someone to... share more intimate moments with, you know, to share the most personal parts of ourselves.”
As you spoke, you hadn't noticed that you had suddenly walked slower and eventually come to a stop, turning to face Freddie, your eyes meeting his, both flashing soft smiles.
“So, you're not going to take my advice, are you?” he chuckled lightly, briefly glancing down at the pavement.
“You know, Freddie, I might actually listen to your advice this time,” you flashed him a sweet smile.
“No, you're not.”
“What do you mean, no, I'm not?” You let out a playful gasp, overemphasizing your tone a little. “How would you know that?” you teased with a sarcastic note, rolling your eyes slightly.
Freddie couldn't suppress another chuckle. “Because I know you. I tell you one thing, and we both know you'll do the exact opposite.”
“I do not do that!” you tried to defend yourself, although both of you knew he was actually telling the truth.
“Yes, you do,” Freddie continued, laughing under his breath. “But it's okay, it's one of the many things I love about you.”
You shared in his heartfelt laughter as he then slowly started walking again. However, a brief moment passed where you remained still before a tiny bell in your head suddenly reacted to his choice of words.
"What did you just say?" 
"What? That's one of the many things I like about you?" he questioned, stopping in his tracks and repeating his own words.
"Well, you said 'love'..." you tried to point out, but Freddie just shrugged it off nonchalantly as always. 
"Did I? I mean, I guess I do, you know, love things like friends, right?" he flashed you a crooked smile.
You couldn’t quite decipher what was going on in the mind of your friend. Your eyes darted from side to side, searching for any hints in his expression. But you found none. Although Freddie wasn't always the easiest to read, it was a skill you had developed during the time you had spent together. However, in this particular moment, he left you absolutely clueless.
But finally, you managed to break from your stare and force your voice to speak. "Yeah, like friends."
Although the two of you kept walking as if nothing had happened and finished your drinks before parting ways, you couldn’t completely shake off what Freddie had said.
Sure, you loved each other on a friendly level; you did consider him your best friend after all, and you strongly believed he considered you as his as well.
But in the evening, as you rested on your bed and scrolled through all the messages and photos you and Freddie had exchanged over the past year or so, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander – what if there was something more going on between you?
Was that the reason you could never find someone you felt compatible with like Freddie?
The way the two of you had been texting every single day, sharing Snapchats and Instagram posts, even calling each other when he was on the road or when either one of you was feeling lonely. You looked over the photos you’d taken together, noticing how closely you stood in almost all of them, some where you were even sitting on his lap, which at the time had felt completely innocent. But then you noticed how his large hand always seemed to rest on you, whether it was your shoulder, your waist, or even your thigh – Freddie always kept you close to him.
He was like the protective best friend, almost brotherly, yet you didn’t think of him as your brother. At least you wouldn’t have shared so many intimate details with him if so. And it’s not like he felt like just another colleague that you’d share foolish and immature jokes with. With Freddie, you could have deep conversations, share feelings, and whatever else you needed to get off your chest. And furthermore, he was rather attractive. Right?
The only detail you hadn’t considered until this very moment was that you actually had feelings for Freddie. Feelings that went beyond just friendship.
Sitting straight up in your bed, you let out a light sigh. "Fuck..."
Normally, you weren’t the quickest to get out of bed, but right now, you couldn’t leave the apartment fast enough.
Swiftly, you grabbed your coat, slammed the door, and dashed down the stairs, not even bothering with the lift. The train ride, which usually seemed rather quick, felt like an eternity as you made your way to Freddie’s place.
And after a few hard knocks on his front door, he greeted you with a smile. Though you were out of breath, you tried your best to formulate an understandable sentence.
“You... you said 'love'... things you love about me,” you breathed out, gazing up at him with a slightly concerned expression as you confronted him, nervously.
“Well... yeah, but I also said as friends—”
But you couldn’t let him have this one either. You had finally noticed the signs and admitted your own deep feelings to yourself.
“No, not just as friends, Freddie...” you spoke with a soft tone, finally managing your breathing, and you saw how his smile faded and he let out a deep sigh.
“No... not just as friends...” he softly admitted.
And you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat in your chest as you saw how he had finally admitted his secret. Your eyes locked, as it took you a brief moment to fully comprehend the situation. But without much thinking or any words spoken, you instead let your arms wrap around his neck and leaned in to close the gap between you, connecting your lips.
Freddie immediately met you in the kiss, his hands swiftly finding your waist to hold you closer.
It started off soft and tender, but gradually grew deeper and more passionate as you both allowed yourselves to explore each other. His tongue gently passed your lips, meeting yours in soft motions, before you both pulled apart to catch your breaths.
Again, you looked at each other, exchanging soft moans and sharing the air between you.
A tender silence hung in the air, but licking your lips, you decided to break it.
“So, were you ever going to tell me?” you let a crooked smile creep onto your lips, trying to defuse the tension a little.
“Probably someday…” he let out a soft chuckle, still holding his hands onto you.
“No, you weren’t…”
“And how would you know that?” he cocked an eyebrow.
“… because I know you."
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iceman-kazansky · 25 days
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just fluffy niki lauda content, please. that's all i need. pure. tooth-rotting. fluff.
Before Breakfast
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˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙
Requested by: Anon
Request: Answered above
Pairings: Niki Lauda x F!reader
Warnings: Kissing. That's it, I believe. Pure sappy, tooth-rotting fluff, as requested :)
Word Count: 660
A/n: Hi anon! I hope I wrote this to your liking! I had so much fun writing for Niki, and I hope you enjoyed what I created! This can be interpreted as either Daniel Bruhl Niki Lauda, as seen in Rush, or just normal Niki, it's really up to readers interpretation.
Taglist: none
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙
Warm, milky rays of sunlight dripped through the curtains like honey, casting a soft glow on your face. The soft rays illuminated a portion of the floor and bed, displaying the picturesque scene. The sun’s gentle glow on the morning air the only disturbance to the setting.
A soft mumble, followed by a twitch of your unconscious eyelids under the light, prompted you awake. Yawning softly, you opened your eyes, your gaze immediately settling on none other than Niki’s peaceful face. 
You’d found yourself wrapped securely in the protective hold of the Austrian, his long arms resting against your waist, holding you close to him. The blankets and sheets had tangled around the two of you as you slept, wrapping you together in an embrace. Niki’s chest rose and fell softly as he slept, the rhythmic beating of his heart thumping softly against your hand, providing you with a soft, lullaby-like effect that gave you comfort. When you inhaled, his scent enveloped you, the faint, but distinct, smell of his cologne still lingering on his skin and clothes.
A delicate smile stretched onto your lips as you sighed gently, observing Niki. The Austrian formula one driver peacefully asleep, holding you against his chest. With careful precision, you reached your arms up, your hands pushing some of his hair from his forehead before slowly transitioning to tangle in his soft brown locks.
Niki emits a low grumble as you massage his scalp and play with his hair, his face scrunching after a moment. Reaching up, you press a soft kiss to his jaw, a smile finding its way onto your face again. “Goodmorning,” you greet, sighing softly in his arms.
Slowly, Niki's eyes blink open, the soft brown irises like milk chocolate. A small smile stretches onto his features, and he places a chaste kiss of his own against your forehead lovingly. He mumbles a good morning back, tightening his grip around you momentarily while he stretches.
“Do you want breakfast?” You ask, your voice a quiet hum. Admittedly, you did not want to leave his embrace, but you were willing to if he wanted breakfast. 
A gentle sigh leaves Niki’s mouth, “I do, but I don't want you to leave,” he admits. Niki often was up by now, but to him, this morning was different. He wanted you to stay here. With him. Cuddling against him in the warm, early hours of the day, the blankets keeping you together.
You chuckle airily at him, your hands still twirling his brown hair absent-mindedly. “Okay then, I won’t.”
Niki sighed contentedly, his eyes closing again as you continued playing with his coffee-coloured hair, your digits occasionally brushing against his scalp in soothing, mindful motions, emitting soft sighs of pleasure from the Austrian man. He felt so euphoric, tangled up with you. Enraptured by your gentle touch and your honeyed voice, dripping in his ear. He was in such a bliss that he’d found himself dozing off again, the feel of you in his arms comforting him as sleep overtook him once more.
Together, you both fell back asleep. Each others presence enough to give you a solace in which you found yourself at peace within the others arms. Pressed together, the only sounds emitted from the room being soft snores of sleep. Neither of you minded, however. Both of you too wrapped up in the love for the other to care.
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙
ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ || ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!
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