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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months

Text

daddys home

words: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, establish relationship (theyre married!), dad!rafe, mom!reader, p in v sex (protected), female receiving oral, mentions of pregnancy/breeding, readers stretch marks are described briefly

“when is daddy getting home?” your daughter asks for what feels like the millionth time since rafe left for work this morning.

you sigh, rubbing your forehead, hoping it alieves your splitting headache. “any minute now, poppy. why don't you go get a cup of water for him and leave it on the counter?”

you know that the task will occupy her for some time, having to drag her step stool that she uses when helping you cook around the kitchen to get a cup and fill it.

you let out a breath of relief when you hear rafe pull into the driveway.

“daddy! daddy!” poppy hears the noise as well, running to the garage door, jumping up and down excitedly as she waits for rafe to come in.

she jump-tackles him as soon as he opens the door. rafe laughs, catching her in his arms.

“hi baby.” he presses a kiss to the top of her head, toeing his shoes off onto the mat.

“welcome home.” you say, moving over to rafe, pressing your face into the shoulder that poppy isn't currently resting hers against.

“you okay?” rafe whispers into your ear, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. he sets poppy down carefully, only half listening as she begins to tell him about getting rafe a water all by herself like a big girl.

“yeah, she's just been… a lot today.” you sigh, wrapping your arms around rafes waist, snuggling into his warm body.

“hey, poppy. wanna spend the night at aunt wheezies?” rafe asks.

“yes! yes! yes!” poppy screams, quickly flying up the stairs to her room with her unstoppable toddler energy to pack a bag.

“thank you.” you look to rafe, taking a moment to press a kiss to his lips.

“wheeze has been begging to have her over, she'll be so happy.” rafe says, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “and you can get a real break.”

“god, i need it too.” you laugh, pulling away from rafe but not before giving him another kiss. “i love poppy to death, but she can be so exhausting some days.”

“aw, baby.” rafe coos. “why don't you go get in the bath, ill help poppy pack a bag then take her over the wheezies.”

“mmm, sounds perfect, can't wait to spend a night just us.” you wink at rafe before both heading further into the house and up the stairs. poppy has had a string of clinginess lately, especially at night knowing you and rafe are just down the hall, so she fakes nightmares to sleep in your bed.

it's nice having her so close, but at the same time you haven't been intimate with rafe in months.

“poppy.” you call into her room, seeing her stuffing pajamas into her backpack. “you be good for auntie wheezie, okay? ill pick you up in the morning and if you behaved, we can go to the park.”

“okay, mommy.” poppy nods, a serious look on her face.

“daddy is gonna help you pack then take you over.” you finish, looking to rafe.

“thank you again babe.” you whisper, rubbing your thumb over his cheek before heading towards your bedroom. you turn on the hot tap in the master bath, letting the jacuzzi tub fill as you scrounge in the cabinets for your epsom salt.

you let out a groan when you sink into the bath, eyes closing as you relax into the hot water, your muscles finally getting a break after entertaining poppy all day.

you relax in the bath until the water starts to turn room temperature. you pull the drain before getting out, toweling yourself dry. you go through your skincare routine quickly before pulling your robe on.

you exit the bathroom to see rafe on the bed, back against the headboard, having changed out of his work clothes to sweats.

“was she excited?” you question.

“poppy or wheezie?” rafe jokes, a soft smile on his face. “both of them were so excited, but i think wheeze might have more fun than poppy does.”

“that's good.” you laugh before taking a deep sigh.

“how are you feeling now?” rafe asks, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. you move to stand in front of him, letting your knees press into the side of the mattress.

“a million times better. no more headache.”

“good.” rafe tugs at the strap on your robe, not hard enough to undo it, but making his intentions clear. “wanna lay down?”

“just lay down?” you smirk, raising one eyebrow.

“if that's what you want,” rafe takes your hands in his, bringing your knuckles up to his lips, pressing kisses along your skin. “mrs. cameron.”

“i want you.” you tell rafe, taking your hand out of his grasp to tug your robe open, revealing yourself to him. you slide the fabric off your shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.

“you're so beautiful.” rafe says, eyes sweeping over your naked body. he rubs a hand over your stomach, the small lines running over your skin, the physical reminder of your pregnancy.

“this part of you is the most beautiful.” rafe leans forward, kissing the stretch marks. “because it shows that you carried our daughter. kept her safe inside you for nine months until he she was ready to see the world.”

“you're gonna make me cry.” you sniffle, feeling tears start to form.

“wanna make you cry a different way.” rafe says, standing up suddenly while turning you swiftly, pushing your hips down so now you're the one sat on the edge of the mattress.

rafe sinks down to his knees, spreading your thighs open for him, revealing your cunt.

“you know-” you gasp when rafe begins to kiss along your inner thighs, inching closer to your center. “i was worried when i first got pregnant that you wouldn’t be attracted to me after i gave birth.”

“really?” rafe questions. “why would you ever worry about something as impossible as that?”

“pregnancy brain.” you shrug, eyes fluttering closed as rafe spreads your thighs further, wrapping his hand around your ankle and bringing your heel up onto the bed.

“well, mrs. cameron-” rafe leans in, licking a stripe straight through your folds. “no need to worry anymore, i find you very attractive.”

you smile, bringing one hand to rafes hair, clutching it between your finger as he dives in, tongue swiping through your wetness, tasting you on his tongue. rafe works his way up from your entrance to your clit before lapping over the sensitive skin there.

“taste so good mama.” rafe hums, letting his tongue flick and play with your clit. you let out a cry, glad that you’re able to be as loud as you want with poppy out of the house.

“more.” you whine.

“all these years later, carrying my baby and you're still my little slut.” rafe tsks, bringing his finger to your entrance and plunging it in, thrusting in and out slowly as his lips wrap around your clit, giving gentle sucks to build you up, tease you.

“can’t wait for you to fuck me.” you toss your head back, pushing your hips even further into rafes face.

“yeah, you miss my cock?”

“all the time.” you whine, bringing your other foot onto the bed as well, spreading your knees wide open to give rafe even more space to work into you as he adds a second finger.

“you think after being married for five years you’d be sick of me.” rafe jokes, but you shake your head.

“never, daddy.” the nickname impacts rafe differently now that he is actually a dad, knowing it comes from a different place.

“god, i was gonna have you cum on my tongue three times before i fucked you, but i need you too badly.” rafe stands up, but not before pressing another kiss to your clit, now puffy and red from the attention.

rafe hesitates before reaching for the nightstand drawer, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but before you can comment on it, he is removing his clothes and rolling the condom onto his length and lining himself up with your cunt.

he rubs briefly through your folds before pushing in, sinking into your pussy. you let out a loud moan, unafraid to get interrupted by your daughter as rafe copies your moan right back.

“such a perfect pussy for me baby.” rafe coos, beginning to pump his hips forward. you wrap your legs around his hips as he leans forward, pushing until your back is resting against the sheets. he hovers over you, pressing your lips together.

you moan into his mouth, moving your hips up and down in sync with his thrusts. your bare chests are rubbing together, yours still slightly damp from the bath. your nipples catch as rafe moves, making you whimper.

“so big.” you cry out, hands moving along rafes back, feeling the cords of muscles as they stretch with his movements.

“filling you up real good, huh?” rafe smirks, cocky that he can still get you in this state just from his dick.

“so good.” you turn your head to bite rafes earlobe, tugging on it. “you know,-” you gasp when rafe speeds up. “this is the same position we were in when i got pregnant with poppy.”

you remember the night well, when you ran out of condoms and decided together fuck it, were married, and you were blessed with your little girl soon after.

“yeah? want me to take the condom off mama? fill your belly up again?” rafe asks, moving a thumb to your clit, rubbing it quickly.

“yeah, daddy, yeah i do- fuck!” your back arches off the bed as rafe pumps faster, your body quivering as his thumb strokes you to orgasm, the tightening of your cunt causing him to spill into the condom.

rafe breaths heavily, hips slowly grinding into you as you work through your highs.

rafe pulls out as you try to stop your deep gasps of breaths. he pulls the condom off and tosses it in the trash can before climbing back onto the bed, flopping down next to you.

“were you serious?” rafe asks.

you don't need any more context to know exactly what rafe is referring to.

“i wouldn't mind having another baby.” you say honestly. “besides, poppy will start kindergarten in around a year, so think about in around nine months having another little one.” you feel yourself already beginning to tear up at the thought, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“oh, baby.” rafe coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead and pulling you into him. “well, since poppy is still at aunt wheezies…” rafe trails off, moving his hand from your waist lower to cup your pussy. “we can get trying right now.”

“it only took you one try for poppy.” you remind rafe, slinging your leg over rafes body, twisting yourself to sit on top of him, rubbing your cunt over his length.

“yeah…” rafe places his hands on your hips, flipping you over so your back is against the bed. “but maybe i want more than one try.” rafe says as his cock slides back inside of you.

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saiidahyunie · 2 months

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you in my heart

chou tzuyu x f!reader

synopsis: if i can keep myself close to cherish you, then my heart will forever be in your hands.

warnings: fluff ; angst ? ; friends to lovers ; clc elkie and sana appear!

a/n: this fic is my creative writing lifeline soooooo :P

chou tzuyu doesn’t like idiots.

in the many years of her glorious friendship with you, tzuyu has watched, in all scopes, just how damn impatient you were about your decisions. she’s seen it all - whether it’s simply put in which you threw caution to the wind and helped tzuyu ditch school just for a quick detour to the beach as a way to cheer her up after the argument she had with her parents.

(might to add, that happened in the one week of getting to know each other.)

or, whether it would be the way tzuyu saw you drawing, once and decided that the route of art was the destination. better yet, the slight hitch of breath of your decision - last second- of moving in with tzuyu, on the day her lease was up for renewal.

these many things between the fine lines of dumb and stupid could not have prepared tzuyu for this:

you being settled on the floor with a dark red shirt that had a white minimal graphic with the name of the brand being something from your dad’s work, hair set off neatly off to the side with a hint of fringe peaking at the top, an apple juice box in your hands washing down the ritz crackers you swiped from the box, without knowing how it fans the flames in every one of tzuyu’s nerves.

you look at tzuyu, holding your gaze, jaw moving with two chewed crackers in your mouth, before averting your eyes to the crushed juice box next to you.

“tzuyu,” you say, fingers fast on the wrapper fishing out another cracker. “you’re not gonna eat?”

tzuyu says nothing, only shaking her head before settling back against the leg of the sofa, crossing her arms against her chest.

“tzuyu,” you whine, grabbing her wrist that had pinches of salt all over your fingertips, “why are you not saying anything?”

as if tzuyu can ever ignore the constant pull that she feels towards you.

“what’s going on?” tzuyu asks you now, knowing that nothing positive ever comes out of your mouth when she’s soaking in this tone that you’re presenting, voice breaking high and towards the end, as though you wouldn’t be able to breath right if tzuyu does not talk to you, or look at you.

“you’re a girl right?”

tzuyu blinks once, doe eyes out in the open space while she’s unable to guess the trajectory that this conversation might go.

“yes, and?”

you smile, bright and warm, tzuyu nudges closer until her knee touches your thigh.

“cool! me too!” you say. “well, i don’t know, actually. but, the point is that i’ve never dated a girl before. have you?”

tzuyu’s sexuality has been acknowledged, conveyed, and accepted between the both of you without any real sense of words. you had always been perceptive, and when tzuyu’s eyes wandered on only at he women in the movies that she used to watch together with you during high school, you knew that your best friend was a lesbian, and squeezed her hand firmly to let her know that.

it was never really discussed after that, until now.

your sexuality, in tandem, has been acknowledged, conveyed, and accepted between the both of you devidating your realization through a sudden urge to declare the moment out loud on a random day. you tumbled your way onto tzuyu a week ago, holding her hands tight, screaming about how you barely realized that you were bisexual and how “everything makes so much sense to me!”

ever since that day, tzuyu had to witness the only person she has loved even before she knew how to love someone else flirting with nearly everyone. she could only be supportive of her best friend’s journey up til this point.

“i haven’t,” tzuyu replies.

your face lights up, eyebrows arched and eyes wide open. “well, have you kissed another girl before?”

tzuyu suddenly feels like she is neck deep in water that she’s not used to swimming in, struggling to keep herself afloat in her mind. “i…have.”

your face beams more brighter than before it diminishes into the stark emptiness of the night after the flames on a bonfire slowly wither away. “hey,” you say. “you didn’t tell me about that, tzu! we’re besties, aren’t you supposed to tell me everything?”

tzuyu scoots herself over to put a hand on your shoulder. “it was a long time ago,” she says. the world of sapphism was something beautiful to be apart of. seeing the pride parties to be an enlightenment of sorts while also pulling the heart in a more wrenching way. she wanted to belong there with the vast crowd of people but was also aware that she doesn’t want to put herself into that space, if it meant leaving your side.

“it doesn’t really matter now.”

“hey.” you say, scooting closer to match her. tzuyu’s hand lingers on your shoulder before letting go. “of course, it does. was it any good?”

tzuyu doesn’t recall much from those separate experiences, let alone want to remember any from long ago. “yes, i think so. but it was like years since then, so it doesn’t matter.”

“what makes you say that? why did you stop yourself? are you going to be kissing girls when we go to that pride party next week?”

“i told you, y/n. it doesn’t matter. why are you even asking about this?”

you have another smile spread across, hands moving up and down tzuyu’s arm, causing a ripple effect of goosebumps rising on the crook of her neck. “i have something to ask you.”

when you pull your hands away, picking a cracker from the new stack you just opened, holding against tzuyu’s lips.

when tzuyu makes no move to open her mouth, your encourage her by nodding despite becoming more and more doting and impatient (which was on brand for your antics).

tzuyu merely holds it against her teeth, unwilling to take a bit nor choke on the bit after your request.

you take a deep breath, and twine your hands with hers, looking into her eyes steadily.

“i want you to kiss me.”

these several plus years of friendship that tzuyu will never get enough of, tired was also out of the question. nothing could’ve prepared her for the opportunity of hearing those words that deeply carve out one of the core instincts that she has been fighting to keep within.

the cracker falls out of tzuyu’s mouth.

you, on the other hand, face full of optimism and hope immediately replaced with frowns from the fallen cracker sitting on tzuyu’s lap, picking it up. your fingers brush against her hip bone, and tzuyu suppresses a gasp.

also, you’re oblivious to tzuyu’s inner crisis, looking at the cracker before biting it, in the same spot more than a third of the cracker is caught between your teeth.

“what are you saying?”

“i want you to kiss me.” you say, seriously, after chewing the last part of the cracker that will haunt tzuyu’s dreams for the coming decades.

“why?”

“do people need a reason to kiss each other, tzuyu?”

“when the people in the problem set are one’s best friends, then of course.”

you sigh, troubled. “fine,” you say, not willing to look up from where you fidget with the ripped wrapper of the cracker stack. “you got me. i have a date with a girl this weekend and i have never kissed a girl, ever. i want it to be good for her. you’ve kissed a girl, and i want you to assess me.”

“assess you?”

nodding to tzuyu’s question. “i want it to be good for her, tzu! besides, you’re one of the few people that i trust the most. i want you to kiss me and tell me how it is. now are you gonna help me?”

a few seconds of silence pass that the weight of it envelops every fabric and cell of their being, you begin to fiddle with the hem of your shirt, a habit that you procured in times of nervousness.

“forget it,” you say abruptly. “i know that sana has kissed girls before. i’ll ask her—”

“no!”

“no?”

“no,” tzuyu says, holding your face between her soft hands. “i’ll do it,” she says. “i’ll help you with this.”

—

you taste like a wintergreen mint.

tzuyu tilts her head up, one hand spread across the back of your neck, the other, holding your chin so that she can deepen the kiss, until tzuyu herself begins to taste the minty aroma and feel like stardust.

tzuyu also should’ve been keeping an open ear to the cautionary tune her heart laid out in front of her. her mind should’ve also said the same thing the way her brain racked the sole idea of kissing you for practice. nothing good would come out of this. you will kiss another girl sometime this weekend and many other girls after that, but tzuyu is weak and in love and can’t fathom not kissing you, not when you asked it yourself.

your arms are coiled around tzuyu’s long neck, pulling her closer than ever before, even though the meters between the two of you now are only separated by the thin layers of clothes. gently trailing her fingers from your chin to your neck and waist, tzuyu hauls you up until you settle on her lap.

the both of you break apart for a second, your eyes with a glint to them, dazed, glossy pink lips still parted, bodies molding together oh-so perfectly.

it was you who kissed tzuyu for the first time, so tzuyu takes it upon herself to press your forehead with hers, chasing your lips for more. the kiss itself is less frantic and more gentle, taking her time skimming her hands across your back, tilting your head towards her, trailing your hands every single spot possible in the hopes of grasping something. eventually, you fingers are in her hair, taking apart the ponytail and running your fingers through it again.

love me, tzuyu mouths out while she kisses you. love me, only me, no one else, just me.

tzuyu’s lips find your jaw, feathery kisses until she meets the fork where your ear and neck meet. you let out a small noise from the bottom of your throat and tzuyu wants to have it all, to revel in it, keep it close to herself in her heart for the eons of years to pass. she finds her way to your neck, and the idea of marking you, to show the mystery girl that you’ll see know that she was here first, and with the premonition that she’ll stay with you forever–

under the crook of your neck, in the palms of your hands, hooked on your ribs as if the set numbers were like lifelines; anywhere, wherever you see fit.

when you two finally break apart this time, you open your eyes, blinking rapidly to erase the remnants of the daze that was clouding the both of you, smiling softly that tzuyu thinks she’s in a dream. although, it wouldn’t be the first time that she’s dreamt something dangerously real, can’t accept the facts.

but your body is warm between tzuyu’s palms, floral scent draping all of her sense. you were as real as you can be. tzuyu feels nervous with the pricks

of sweat coating her neck, heart rate struggling to keep calm inside her chest, threatening to break free from the cages.

in her dreams, your eyes wouldn’t suddenly widen in disbelief, you wouldn’t clutch onto tzuyu’s shoulders, not willing to meet tzuyu’s eyes after that.

a block forms, tugging from the depths of tzuyu’s chest.

“y/n,” tzuyu asks, voice horse. “did i go too far?”

you snap your eyes towards tzuyu, in fact not meeting her eyes, rapidly shaking your head. “no, not at all.” you answer, tone shrill. “but a–, that was—was really good.”

finally meeting tzuyu’s eyes, your face swept in a vibrant pink.

“that was?”

you, in a flurry of sudden actions, pat tzuyu’s hair to flatten it, pinching her cheek, before breaking apart the bubble of a minty fulfilled dream that just happened a few seconds ago. “is that even a question?” you ask, licking your lips. “kissing girls is so different from kissing boys,” you say. “i liked this a lot. was it, um, w-was it good for you?”

“what are you talking about?” tzuyu laughs, seeing a smile on your face. “you’re a good kisses,” she says, trying to be as objective as she can. this was a test, an experiment after all. not an outcry of feelings. “you know what you’re doing, so it won’t be bad for you this weekend when you go. i’m sure of that.”

standing up, you pat down your shirt and sweatpants, saying, “okay good, i’m—i’m happy that it was good for you because it was good for me, clearly, and i–shoot—i should probably—”

you don’t spare tzuyu another glance, running off to your room, the slam of the door echoed through the walls.

tzuyu just sits there, back against the leg of the sofa, the half-eaten stack of crackers and empty glasses of water on the table, enthralling her attention as if they were people who just witnessed something out in public. her head hits the cushion behind her, clenching the scream wanting to be unleashed from inside her.

for the reminder of how reality works in this world, things will–not remain the same between her and you. the air was already heavy with tension, anchored with tzuyu’s feeling, suspended in time with the words captive in the nooks and cracks of her body.

tzuyu will have to learn how to live with the knowledge of how you taste, the small noises you make, the way your face shapes when her mouth is on yours, eyes closed as you chase tzuyu’s mouth like it was the last thing you had to do.

she doesn’t know how to recover from this information.

—

the two of you don’t talk about it.

few days pass, and tzuyu leaves her pottery class. you arrive a few hours after you were sure that tzuyu was asleep.

(she wasn’t asleep. in fact, she was waiting for you to come home. only able to fully rest when the sound of the door opening and closing, the soft sounds of your feet hitting the wood in and around the house.)

you and tzuyu have a thursday class together in music theory, sharing a shaken look between each other when the paths cross to the living room.

“you wanna leave together?” you ask, strangely nervous with a pensive look on your face.

tzuyu nods her head, and that was it.

you two don’t talk about it still, because there’s nothing to be discussed.

after dinner, tzuyu finds herself going along to being kissed by you again. more practice never hurt anybody, or anyone for that matter.

tzuyu slides in her bed with a heavy heat, lips aflame with the phantom stir of yours on them.

it’s okay, she thinks. it’s gonna be okay. i’ll be okay.

—

“you’re leaving?” tzuyu asks you on saturday, realizing in a manner that your date was today. a date, the whole reason you kissed tzuyu.

you look dashing, transcendent beyond existence. tzuyu loves you so much.

nervously, you start messing with the flimsy fabric of your dress pants, “i am,” you say, “did you want something?”

“no,” tzuyu lies, heart clogging her throat.

you take a step closer, breaking the bubble around tzuyu. “did you want to say something?”

“no,” tzuyu lies again, heart in her hands.

“okay then.” you say, “i’ll be going now.”

“okay.” tzuyu replies. “have fun on your date.”

something omniscient falls over the ever-constant glow on your face. “i will, i’m sure of it.”

tzuyu feels her pulse accelerate, hands clenching and unclenching in succession. there’s so much that she wants to blurt out. so much that will ruin the close friendship that she has with you. but being selfish isn’t the way to go, the risk that is carried by making her feelings your problems too.

it’ll be fine, tzuyu tells herself. this will pass too. she’s fine, she’s okay, she’s breathing—and if she keeps beating it down her being, maybe her heart won’t feel like it’s being trampled on.

everything will be okay, this will all work out in the end.

—

“something is wrong,” sana begins, eating her french fry, the same evening when she invites herself to tzuyu’s home with a bag of food and snacks. “you’re not okay.”

“everything is great!” tzuyu says, chasing down her words with half of a boba drink. “and, i am okay.”

sana’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “it’s not really you to lie in front of my face.”

“i need you to stop prying.”

“is it because y/n’s on that date right now?”

“sana, i’m fine.”

“shut up, it is, isn’t it?!”

“sana!”

“okay, i’ll stop,” sana says, raising her hands in surrender. “i believe you. everything is okay and you are doing fine.”

—

you don’t offer more information about your date other than just saying, “we should go watch that one movie together, tzuyu.”

tzuyu doesn’t even bother asking either.

two days after, you come bearing another tempting proposition that steals tzuyu’s breath away—literally.

“that one barista from the cafe we regularly go to asked me out,” you say, already straddling tzuyu’s lap. “i didn’t kiss that girl from saturday and i think i’m a little iffy about my–technique. can you help me with it again?”

tzuyu tears down the banners of doubts in her mind, providing her mouth pressing against yours, feeling like the can finally breath now after not being able to for so long.

she doesn’t bother asking you about it, again.

—

more and more kisses are being shared in the days leading up to your date. always in the evening, an hour before going to bed.

tzuyu finds out all the different ways in which you like being kissed. even though an unspoken boundary between them is crossed past the point of rational thinking. she finds herself putting up a boundary before it becomes all too much, too fast. like her soul feels like it’s being robbed of once those walls are up, but it’s okay.

tzuyu tells herself that it’s okay. she will live through this.

she’s fine, and everything’s gonna be okay.

—

when you come back from the date, drunk, the sleep is immediately left from tzuyu’s body, and she’s alert, awake on the sofa. she puts her book and the small blanket back in their places, walking over to help you remove your shoes and find your way back into the house.

you look at tzuyu with a blearily smile, holding onto her waist tightly. “hi,” you say, grinning.

“hi,” tzuyu greets back, holding onto you as you’re sliding on the floor, head lolling back on the head of the sofa. “are you alright?”

“amazing!” you answer, giddy.

“how was your date?”

tzuyu blinks one eye open, grinning sarcastically. “oh? you didn’t ask me how it went the last time. this is a sign.”

“you didn’t tell me anything either,” tzuyu also points out.

you sigh, slumping your head on tzuyu’s toned shoulder. “true,” you mumble. “i guess it was okay.”

“just okay?”

tzuyu feels you nodding your head. “i am so tired, tzu!” you whine, nudging your head closer. tzuyu suppresses a shudder as she feels your eyelids fluter closed against her neck. “i’m gonna fall asleep right here, okay?”

“that’s okay,” tzuyu says, pressing her fingertips into your scalp, just the way that you like it.

“you’re the best,” you mumble again, sounding half-asleep. “do you know that? you’re the very best, tzu.”

tzuyu doesn’t know how to respond without revealing the very depth of everything she feels about you.

“i guess,” your whisper is like a knife through the curtain of silence between the two of you. “i guess the problem is that no one is you. they don’t kiss the way that you do.”

tzuyu’s heart stops. “y/n, what do you mean?”

…

“y/n?”

…

a lack of a reply prompts tzuyu to thread her fingers through your hair, gently tapping your shoulder. “y/n.” she softly calls. “don’t you know to not say things like this to me?” she whispers too, confident that you were asleep. your breath steady, head heavy.

you mumble something closely incoherent, and your head sags into tzuyu’s chest.

despite the tumultuous beat of her heart, tzuyu finds herself smiling, as she cradles your head, hoping that laying on her lap would be more comfortable for you, and drapes the blanket over your legs.

“that’s the issue with me, too.” tzuyu says while palming your hair. “i guess i stopped kissing other people because they weren’t you. i wish i could stop looking for you in every person that i meet.”

—

it’s not like tzuyu was not aware of the happy hour event that’s regularly held at that one bar that the friend group usually ends up in at a night like this, but it’s just that she didn’t care enough about it, especially after living for about three months in a new city.

two days after you realized that you were bisexual, you looked at the poster that announced the party for the lgbtq community happening on a friday night well off into the new semester with a newfound excitement. “we should go here!” you shrieked while pointing at the poster. “i didn’t even know that this was a thing.”

“it’s a thing alright,” tzuyu answers, resigning herself to the fate of ending up at that party, especially a few weeks before happening.

“have you ever been to a party like this?”

“not a lot, but a few.” tzuyu replies. “they’re interesting.” and unfamiliar, because they’re loud and crowded. the heavy bass of music blasting through the speakers, making her heart match to the beat of the rhythm.

“well, you should show me around then!” you had said, and that was it.

now, about a little over three weeks or so after tzuyu first made out with her best friend only to help you practice for dates with people that weren’t tzuyu, standing in front of the said best friend, trying to obviously leer at your appearance.

you were wearing a white crop top shirt with ripped jeans layered with a black leather jacket. this outfit in particular had been printed in tzuyu’s brain since she saw you wear it for the first time—and a one piece dress

you catch tzuyu looking and wink. “what? i look good, don’t i?”

‘good’ doesn’t even begin to cover it, but tzuyu nods, nonetheless.

bounding up with tzuyu, arms interlocked together. “thank you!” you exclaim. “you have to look great too! when did you buy this blouse?” you ask, gesturing at tzuyu’s outfit. “i have to borrow it one day,” you say, as you make your way outside the house, head resting on tzuyu’s shoulder.

“okay,” tzuyu readily agrees despite it being her favorite blouse and your tendency to not return her clothes after ‘borrowing’ them.

the club is crowded by the time you reach there—full of people that tzuyu recognizes the way gay people tend to recognize each other across the campus, and those she does not.

your face is set with an ever-present grin, taking in the clamour and infecting excitement of energy that’s radiating of all the people here. all eyes were on you and you just seem to bask in it, but your eyes were on tzuyu. there’s a low glo to you. the only person glowing in a sea of people. tzuyu is so in love with you that it aches, it aches, and it aches.

“let’s dance!” you yell over the sound of the booming music.

tzuyu is pulled into your arms the minute she agrees to it. sinking into your arms as though she always belonged there should be weird, tzuyu thinks. it’s supposed to be weird, especially because you and her couldn’t even look at each other until a few days ago, until you came back home drunk and slept on tzuyu’s lap.

but it isn’t. this feels as natural as breathing, normal like your heart beating, the sun rising, the world turning painstakingly slow.

colorful lights dance on your face as you pull tzuyu close, hands curling around her neck. tzuyu, helplessly in love, holding you by the waist and sways with some sense of rhythm to the music.

you pull tzuyu closer, so that her ear is met with your lips. “is this how it always is?”

“i think so,” tzuyu replies. save for a few strobe lights, the night seems the same as it always does. it must feel different for you though. “how do you feel?” tzuyu asks, resting her chin on your shoulder.

“good!” you cheer. “like, i didn’t even know that there were so many of us here! i truly believed that it would be less crowded. in fact, it is more.”

tzuyu nods, clutching her hands tighter around your waist.

you sway and dance together, sometimes following the rhythm of the songs blasting out of the subwoofers, and the other times creating your own rhythm entirely, but that doesn’t matter.

what matters to tzuyu—at this moment and all the others that have happened and will—is this; your bright smile reserved only for her, your warm hands around hers, your feet falling in step with her, your laughter when you dip down into her, or the high pitched call of her name that makes her twirl in her mind, the gaze fixated on her lips, the grasp on her heart: for now and always forever (in hope) will be you. and only you.

you and tzuyu break apart when you loudly demand that you’re thirsty and need a drink. tzuyu, helpless to do anything else, clutches your hand and makes you follow, even though she can’t wade through the crowd of strangers by the bar.

tzuyu is grateful that the thump of the music in this area is a lot less, deciding on standing a few feet away, looking at you valiantly finding her way towards the bartender, jumping only when she feels a tap against her shoulder.

elkie, one of the other friends that tzuyu is very familiar with, perhaps a year her senior, stands across her with a broad smile on her lips.

“it’s been so long since i saw you here,” she says, stepping closer. “how are you doing?”

“good,” tzuyu replies with a smile. “how bout you?”

the music picks up in volume where they are, causing them to stand closer which isn’t entirely ideal, but it’s alright. elkie is good company, and tzuyu doesn’t mind.

“are you looking for someone?” elkie asks, when she notices tzuyu look into the crowd of people at the bar station trying to see someone in a black leather jacket. “do you want me to help you find them?”

“just my friend.” tzuyu replies, turning towards elkie. “she went in to get drinks for us and hasn’t come out yet.”

elkie laughs. “she’ll come back, i’m sure. but tell me about you, tzuyu. are you dating someone?”

tzuyu darts her eyes away from elkie. “i’m not actually, no.”

elkie eyes brighten. “well, if that’s the case, call me if you want? you do have my number, right?”

tzuyu blinks, before the realization dawns on her. “oh,” she says. “no.” she replies, turning towards elkie.

“elkie, i—”

elkie’s eyes widen with an understanding. “ah, you’re not seeing someone, but you do like someone,” she infers. tzuyu doesn’t say anything, only turning sideways to the crowd in which you have disappeared to. “yeah,” she replies, looking back at elkie.

she nods, gently holding tzuyu’s shoulders. “i get that,” elkie says. “i hope you figure it out, whatever that may be.”

“thank you.”

elkie smiles back, and plants a kiss on the corner of tzuyu’s mouth. “i think i saw someone i didn’t want to see, so i’m gonna run now,” she says. “don’t be a stranger, okay? let’s meet up for some lunch sometime—as friends, of course.”

tzuyu smiles, patting her back neatly. “i will.”

elkie excuses herself, walking swiftly past tzuyu, vanishing into the crowd.

out of a bad habit set in the last fifteen minutes or so, tzuyu looks sideways to the crowd that you had ventured into, only to meet your distraught face.

your face even turns furious when tzuyu meetes your eyes, but the undercurrent of hurt is open and raw. tzuyu instantly takes a step forward by instinct, wondering what caused it, relizing that you must’ve seen elkie kissing her cheek for this anger to be directed at tzuyu. but it shouldn’t bother you as much as it did—because why would it, it’s not like you to be jealous, because that would imply that you like—

huh.

“you were here with me.” you shout over the music, steamrolling over close enough for tzuyu to see the shimmer on your skin. “we came here together.”

“y/n—”

“if you dont’ like me back,” you start, shoulders dipping down in defeat.

well, shit.

tzuyu’s body breaks at that.

“if you don’t like me back, then just say it instead of making me witness whatever the hell i just saw,” you say, drinking the entirety of the fizzy orange behemoth of a drink that was in your hand in one swig, and slamming tzuyu’s shot glass on the table.

—

tzuyu finds you leaning against someone’s car, staring up at the sky.

she wordlessly covers your exposed shirt with the leather jacket you dropped on the way out of the club.

“that was elkie,” tzuyu breaks the silence. “she’s one of the few people that i know from coming to these parties. i guess we somewhat keep in touch now. we don’t like each other romantically. never, no.”

you blink, while looking at her, nodding while fixing your leather jacket to fit it more better on your shoulders.

“tzuyu,” you say. “what i said before—”

“is it true? tzuyu asks, urgency seeping in her words by the millisecond. “do you truly like me?”

you look at tzuyu, broken. “i wore this outfit for you,” you say again. “i hate stiff leather.”

tzuyu looks at you again, out of depth completely.

“i hate this jacket but i love the way you look at me when i wear it. so i wore it today, with you. the only person i could see in this crowd today was you, tzuyu,” you say. “i came up with a silly, stupid excuse to kiss you. so you tell me if what i said was true or not.”

“a stupid excuse?”

“i didn’t have any dates,” you laugh without levity. “i had people asking me out, yes, but i couldn’t agree because they’re not you, tzuyu. the only person i want to go on a date with. the only person i want to kiss and be kissed is by you. so i lied to your face and told you that i wanted to practice. i made up with a terrible excuse to kiss you that doesn’t even make sense because i thought you could, maybe like me back too! and it really felt like you did, but then i see that and-”

“i like you.”

you stop your train of thought from the sentence that just came out of tzuyu’s lips. “what did you say?”

“i like you too,” tzuyu says, as rushed as she could say. “i like you so much. so, so much. it’s—”

“you…what!?” you jolt with unbridled astonishment, crying, turning to grab tzuyu by the shoulders.

“why do you think i kept kissing you?” tzuyu asks with ardor. “i liked you too much to say no. i just—i couldn’t. and i wanted to go on dates with you and kiss you without having a reason, but i just couldn’t.”

a bitter laugh leaves your lips, head hung down while you kick your sneakers into the asphalt.

“you could—you could have,” you say, nodding in fervor. “you could have. i really, really wanted you to.”

“i just didn’t know,” tzuyu says, regretfully, cupping your face. “and i’m sorry that i didn’t.”

your eyes flutter shut. “well, you do now.” you say. “you know that i like you. i like you so, so much, tzu.”

“you know that i like you too. so, so much.”

your eyes open again, teasing a glint quite apparent. “so, what are you going to do with this information, then?” you ask.

tzuyu, with her heart fluttering endlessly in her chest, brings you closer. with eyes closed, you meet tzuyu in the middle.

you taste like beer, candy blossoms, and heaven. you taste like everything that tzuyu wanted, everything that tzuyu could ever want or need in her life.

i love you, tzuyu mouths into yours as she kisses you. i love you, love you, love you.

when you eventually break apart, a smile sprays across your lips, leaning in close, foreheads pressed together, one of tzuyu’s hands on your chest, right where the heart is patting frantically. “i love you, tzu.”

another kiss is shared again, this time more slowly as the both of you took in the taste of exchanging lips, not wanting to ever pull away. it’s just you and tzuyu, entrapped in that silly little world that you and her have built around for so many years, now elevated to a new echelon.

chou tzuyu doesn't like idiots.

but there was something about being with you as an idiot that makes it tolerable to deal with, and she doesn't mind that.

brushing your lips against tzuyu’s, you’re giggling and she follows.

“i’ll embrace you like this, forever.”

#twice x reader #kpop x reader #hyunie #twice imagines #tzuyu imagines #twice tzuyu #chou tzuyu #tzuyu x reader #twice fluff #tzuyu fluff #chou tzuyu x reader

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janitorhutcherson · 6 months

Text

Sacred Self Care (Mike Schmidt)

i'm 100% supposed to be cleaning my room up for family but i may go insane if i do not write RIGHT NOW!! so, this is something i've had in my mind for so long. i PROMISE after thanksgiving i'll give yall peeta and finnick content and get to more asks. i could not hold back on this one any longer though, so sit back, and enjoy!

summary: mike discovers self care, but what happens when his ritual becomes a little too intricate and he ends up in a silly predicament?

warnings: mentions of nudity, one or two innuendos

word count: 2,288

---------------

Mike Schmidt did not have time to take care of himself. This was a fact that was all too noticeable. His dry curls practically begged to be lathered in moisture, or at least in something that wasn’t a bar of soap that was also used on his face and body. His nails were dirty whenever he was busiest, the only time they were well groomed being when he was prepared to be knuckles deep inside of you. His eyebags were sunken in and his facial hair grew in patches, untrimmed. Mike did not care, nor did he think wasting time on such a meticulous thing would be beneficial to him. There were better things to do than to primp himself when he could be doing something more productive, such as getting to the bottom of his brother’s disappearance… thirteen years later. When he wasn’t obsessing over every minute detail in his dream that could lead him to the solution or fathering Abby in his own backwards but still productive way, he was admiring you and your glory.

While Mike may not have been someone for self-care, you most definitely were. You were constantly looking up new ways to better yourself, new hair masks to try and new ways to make your skin as smooth as butter. The water bill also certainly showed your love for self-care. Some nights, you’d prance into the bedroom after an intricate shower, throwing your leg up on the bed as you demanded for Mike’s rough hands to feel, every centimeter of hair gone, the smell of cocoa butter sifting in the air. He was amused when he’d walk in to you sitting on the couch, some new green goop slathered on your face, or some strange piece of paper stuck to your nose. On occasion, you’d convince Mike to join you and Abby, his desperation to spend more quality time with the two of you trumping his disdain for fifteen minutes of clay on his face. He’d peel away at chunks as they flaked into his lap, you and Abby giggling every few seconds as the pile would grow amusingly larger before Mike would give up, running to the bathroom to scrub his face clean before the timer went off.

He wasn’t sure when it clicked. Perhaps it was when Abby told him he’d looked rough lately (he attempted to take this with a grain of salt, as she was his little sister, scolding her and telling her that was not very nice) or perhaps it was when one morning after work, he’d noticed new wrinkles covering his forehead and increasingly pale skin with purple dips underneath his eyes. One day, he found himself in the shampoo aisle at Target. It started with something simple. He bought real shampoo and conditioner, specifically designed for curly dry hair. He enjoyed the scent it radiated as he lathered it through his locks in the warm shower, the aftermath amazing. He’d never seen his hair so fluffy as it dried, his once brittle strands now feeling smooth as he ran his fingertips through it. Then, there was skincare. Somehow, he ended up getting a free sample in the mail from one of those makeup subscription companies you subscribed to, the company accidentally sending you a made-for-men miniature face wash and eye cream set. You eagerly tossed it his way with a giggle, assuming he tossed it in the trash the moment he got it. Instead, that very night, Mike added it to his shower along with his brand-new hair products, patting the eye cream underneath his eyes once he got out. The next morning, the once deep reddish purple was now only tinted a light color. Before he knew it, underneath the cabinet tucked away in a corner were different hair oils, beard creams, moisturizers, and lotions. He’d gotten into different kinds of cologne, opting for scented deodorants as well.

Mike had to admit, he enjoyed this new routine of his. As it progressed, it became almost ritualistic. He’d get home from work at exactly 6:15, about 45 minutes before you’d wake up. He would hop into the shower, taking in the feeling of his fingertips massaging his scalp, his body feeling the tension flooding down as the water from the shower flooded down the drain. Then, the aromatic smell of musky body wash would fill his nose, cleansing his senses of the smell of ancient dusts from working at the pizzeria. He’d step out of the shower, his skin tinted pink from the hot water, his face freshly washed. He’d apply lotion, shape his beard and add his creams, he’d even gotten into grooming his nails every night, ensuring they were crisply clean and applying a protective clear coat on top.

He couldn’t quite figure out why he was so embarrassed by his ritual. Perhaps it was the way it made him feel less masculine, knowing damn well deep down that it didn’t make him any less of a man and it was just his years’ worth of built-up toxic masculinity that you were so desperately trying to get him to break down. Maybe it was the way he was splurging on things he simply didn’t feel he needed until now, until it suddenly felt like a necessity, something he’d go insane without. Most of all and the most likely of all the scenarios, it was admitting that he was wrong, that something you and Abby had so desperately attempted to beg him to get into was exactly what the two of you had explained to him. It was majestic and comforting. At least 45 minutes a day were dedicated to him and only himself, his whole body feeling renewed each time he stepped out of the shower. He felt rebirthed, imagining this was what religious people felt when they were deemed ‘saved’ at confessional. Even with that being said, he couldn’t let you and Abby in on his little ritual. No, he couldn’t possibly admit to it. It wasn’t because he wanted to hide something from you two but instead because his embarrassment seeped deep down into his skull every time he thought about revealing it. Instead, he would slowly creep himself into bed, wrapping his arms around you as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, pretending to sleepily open his eyes as your alarm went off.

You’d suspected he was hiding something, and you were worried. The new signature scents, the freshly groomed look, the way he seemed to care more about his clothing and the wrinkles that were shown. Your first thought was that there was somebody else, someone he had needed to impress, much like he once felt the need to impress you every time he was around you, suppressing his comfortable and more Mike-like fashion choices. In the mornings, you’d sense the lack of his presence after hearing the door creak open, feeling the bed dip right before your alarm went off, sirens ringing in your head each time as if to warn you something wasn’t right. You would spend some nights he was away at work after Abby was in bed evaluating who it could possibly be. There was Vanessa, the blonde police officer who would make occasional appearances in conversation. There was the waitress at the diner who’d taken a liking to Mike, but you weren’t sure who else it could be. Of course, women ogled over Mike all the time in public. There was something about a man with a slightly off putting aura and messy tussled hair. But regardless, you had always trusted him, and besides, Mike didn’t really talk to many people as is.

It wasn’t until Mike added in a peel off face mask into the mix that the jig was up. One week, he’d managed to get the entire week off, ensuring the pizzeria was boarded closed and begging Vanessa to keep an eye on things. You’d felt slightly better having him around more and at normal hours. He was very much still head over heels for you, following you around like a lost puppy, the two of you showering together, cooking together, and of course, having as much ‘alone time’ as you could possibly fit in when Abby was asleep or away at a friends. Even with that, in the back of your mind, you couldn’t shake the feeling. You were passed out on the couch after a movie night and it was late. Mike had crept away from the living room, tucking your sleeping body under a blanket, slipping into the shower. He followed his typical ritual, something he’d had to put off for a while in fear of getting caught, still unsure of what made him so anxious. After his shower, he applied his peel off mask, attempting to avoid his facial hair, but without thinking, he’d applied a layer over his entire chin. What would soon become a panic inducing issue in a short sum of ten minutes hadn’t occurred to him quite yet.

As the timer on his phone went off, he began slowly peeling the mask off, starting at his forehead before he froze, realizing more of his face was covered than usual. He brushed it off, continuing to peel before he noticed that not only was the thin, purple layer coming off, but multiple specks of hair were attached as well. Oh fuck, he thought to himself, unsure of how to proceed. No, he couldn’t just rip it off. He was attached to his facial hair. It made his baby face look mature and manly. No, of course it didn’t occur to him to just add water, simply wiping it away. There was only one option, and that was to waltz into the living room with his bright purple face and to wake you up, puppy dog eyes pleading for you to help him with his predicament.

You stirred away as you felt a hand shake your shoulder, your eyes widening as you sat up with a confused expression.

“Well, hello there,” you croaked out, your voice laced with gravel from exhaustion. He looked at you with embarrassment laced over his face, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Help, please. I…” he trailed off, gesturing his hands towards his face. “I just need it off,” he grumbled lowly, his fingertips holding the piece holding his facial hair tenderly, ensuring he didn’t rip anything else off.

You couldn’t help but let out a loud giggle, amused by the man standing in front of you. You grabbed his hand, leading him into the bathroom. You both sat on the ledge of the tub as you tenderly wiped his face clean with a warm washcloth, his reddened cheeks from both the mask being on too long and the embarrassment becoming more apparent by the second.

“Facial hair is saved,” you said triumphantly, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I do have to ask though, why the sudden liking to all of this? And why not just.. tell me?” you hummed curiously, shaking your head.

“I just.. I don’t know. I think I didn’t want to admit I was wrong or that I was spending so much money on such worthless stuff. It started out so small and then became so big, I just couldn’t,” he sighed, shaking his head. “I am really sorry for keeping it from you,” he hummed before he went into a further explanation, explaining the way it made him feel.

You let out a sigh of relief along with a content giggle, shaking your head. “I knew something was up, but I wasn’t sure what,” you said, cocking an eyebrow as you placed a hand on his knee, your cheeks now warming up.

“What, did you think I was getting all fancy schmancy for another girl?” he teased, bumping his elbow against your shoulder. Your eyes widened as your mouth opened and closed as you went to say something, his expression dropping into something more serious.

“Oh my god, Y/N, honey, no, I’d never,” he said, placing his warm hand on your exposed shoulder. “Baby, no,” he chuckled, happy he could reassure you but somewhat upset that you had to sit through that alone. “No, I love you very much, I promise you, there is no other woman... just, your silly grumpy man being too embarrassed to admit I like girly things,” he teased, leaning in to press a warm kiss to your lips. The kiss was all you needed for electrical sparks to be sent through your body, your brain buzzing as the anxious thoughts began to disappear.

For the rest of the night, Mike walked you through his entire routine, both for fun and for transparency. You two joked back and forth, you occasionally poking at him, telling him he should become an influencer. Afterwards, you both did a face mask together, this time ensuring the product did not cover his chin.

Yes, you and Mike most definitely had your own things to work on, but at the end of the day, you were happiest with him. Your heart felt warm. He had finally found a way to take care of himself, a way to feel more content in his own skin, and even though he had an odd way of going about it, you were pleased, happy he was also finally willing to share this with you. From now on, Mike would wait for his routine in the mornings until you woke up, instead crawling into bed and cradling you in his arms, thinking about how lucky he was to have such a sweet, loving, and accepting partner like you to share his life with, even if it was just skincare and Vaseline kisses.

#josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson imagine #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #michael schmidt x reader

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kcrossvine-art · 10 months

Text

Heya folks! Its been a bit, food insecurity is a bitch, but today on the quest of cooking our way through Lord of the Rings we're gonna be making a dish exclusively mentioned in the 2007 MMO-

We will be making a Rohan Pasty!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes into a Rohans Pasty?” YOU MIGHT ASKBasics. Meat n potatoes of your meat-in-dough food. .

All-purpose flour

Salt

Baking powder

Vegetable oil

Olive oil

Ground beef

Garlic salt

Ground cumin

Chili powder

Dried oregano

Waxy potato

Garlic

White onion

Egg

"A delicious local pastry filled with beef and potatoes."- LOTRO Rohan is a kingdom of humans in middle-earth, and the description point towards a cornish pasty (yes, pasty not pastry). Oddly enough the image is more of an empanada but you win some you lose some. This heritage informs much of the shape and ingredients of this dish, however we're opting to cook most of the ingredients before adding them in, contrary to going in raw as a cornish pasty calls for. I chose to deviate here because cooking beforehand allows more seasoning to be crammed in. The english hate seasoning.

AND, “what does a Rohans Pasty taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK

Tastes like the best pot pie youve had, less soggy

Excellent for an after-rugby/martial arts/soccer dinner

The potatoes are foundational

Despite needing the least work

Pasta salad (cucumber, olives, pepperocini) would pair well as a side

And would also pair well with beer

This meal bears the gold star sticker of not having any major issues! Hooray! Maybe its increased comfortability in the kitchen, or maybe its because of how very simple this one is. Chopped roasted bell pepper might be good in the filling in the future.

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Get the dough ready ahead of time- its mentioned in the recipe below but i also wanted to say a foreword here that it needs to sit in the fridge for a few hours. Just so ya dont get everything out and realise itd take too long for dinner tonight. Speaking of dough, i feel like it could have more flavor added to it. Its bland and although its not part of the tradition of the meal its based off of, cornish meat pasty, it might be nice to add some spices like cumin or black pepper to the flour.

The meal reheats perfect- wrap in papertowl and put it in the microwave for 30 seconds per pasty.

When picking your potatoes make sure theyre "new" potatoes (baby ones) or whichever potato with the least amount of starch you can get. Its important for it to cook inside the pasty that it not have too much lest it get Mushy Bad.

Another thing about its real-life inspo; Cornish pastys were workers food, stuff you could carry into the mines, stuff thatd reheat well. You could hold the crust with your dirty hands and throw it away once you ate the rest. I always feel partial to these foods. Although I'd still eat the dirty crust.

This recipe earns a solid 8/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.)

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Dough Ingredients:

370g all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking powder

74g vegetable oil

240g warm water

Filling Ingredients:

2 tablespoons(ish) olive oil

1 pound ground beef

2 tablespoons tomato paste

Garlic salt to taste

Ground cumin to taste

Chili powder to taste

Dried oregano to taste

5 cloves garlic, minced

1 white onion, diced

Method:

Combine flour, salt and baking powder.

Add oil and water into mixer with dough hook running at medium speed. Mix for 1 minute, stopping several times to scrape the sides of the bowl.

When mixture comes together and begins to form a ball, decrease mixing speed to low. Continue to mix just until dough is smooth.

Take the dough ball, safely wrap it, and transfer to fridge. Let sit for at minimum 2 hours.

For the meat, get a large skillet, and add some olive oil over medium heat. Add the ground beef and garlic salt, cook until the beef is cooked completely.

Drain the beef and set aside.

In the same pan, add the garlic, onions, cumin, chili powder, oregano, and salt.

Cook until the onions are softened but not brown, 10 to 15 minutes. Re-add the beef and cook over low heat for about 5 more minutes.

Back to the dough, transfer dough from fridge to well-floured work surface. Roll into log and divide into 10 equal portions.

Preheat oven to 350f.

Form each piece into a ball and flatten each with a rolling pin.

Add a layer of diced potatos down the middle of the pastys. Add the meat filling to each. Fold the sides of the dough up to seal on top in the middle.

Gently turn the pasty on its side and crimp the edge, alternating a braid pattern. Use knife to cut an "X" shaped slit in the top. Repeat for each pasty.

Place the pastys on a greased baking sheet. Lightly coat each pasty with an eggwash using a basting brush.

Cook for about 50 minutes, or until golden brown, and let cool!

#cross cooks lotr #lotro #the hobbit #lord of the rings #food recipe

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cherryflavoured7777 · 7 months

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Fevered Affection {h.c}

summary: Hazel takes care of a very sick you.

Pure fluff.

(This is entirely self-indulgent as I have been sick the past week and need a Hazel to come take care of me)

pairing: Hazel Callahan x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

You wake up in your bed, a tight ball of pressure constricting your chest, as if something has been lodged in your lungs for days. You try to slowly untangle yourself from Hazel's body beside you and move her arm off of you. As you sit up, you find yourself gasping for air, a fit of coughing wracking your body and intensifying the pounding in your head. Leaning over the edge of the bed, you reach for your water bottle, the cool liquid soothing your dry throat and sticky skin. It’s completely dark in the room except for the soft orange glow of your salt lamp plugged in, casting a warm ambiance on your bedside table.

You pick up your phone and the light from your screensaver adds to the throbbing in your poor head. Glancing at the clock, you groan, it's 3:38 a.m. Apparently, you had dozed off early only to be rudely awakened by your lingering illness. Every inch of your body aches, and your chills have now transformed into a too-warm heat.

Beside you, your girlfriend stirs, a soft sound escaping her lips. Hazel quickly becomes alert, her brows furrowing in concern. "Honey, are you okay? What's wrong?"

You convinced your mom to let Hazel come over and take care of you. After spending days miserably locked up in your room, missing school, and yearning to see her, you needed her presence. Hazel had arrived earlier that evening, well-prepared with all the essentials. As soon as she received the green light to come over, she stopped by a nearby grocery store to gather cough drops, medicine, tea, soup, a heating pad, and even a new stuffed animal, all to make you feel better.

"I'm fine, Haze," you manage to say before having another coughing fit.

"You don't sound fine. You sound like you're about to hack up a lung," Hazel says, concern etched on her face as she grabs your shoulder and pulls you in for a closer look. You attempt to squirm away from her touch.

"Don't look at me. I'm sick and disgusting," you protest weakly. Hazel chuckles softly. "Yeah, you look super gross right now. So gross that I just need to kiss you so bad," she teases sarcastically, planting a quick peck on your lips.

"Shut up," you reply, though you know there's no real heat behind your words. Hazel is just as lovesick as you are, if not more.

"I'm gonna get you sick," you warn halfheartedly.

"Babe, do you think if I was worried about that, I would have slept next to you for the past seven hours?" she replies, lightly tugging your bare arm back down and placing her lips on your shoulder.

"Seriously," she mumbles against your skin, her kisses tracing a line from your shoulder to your neck. Your head falls to your other shoulder, allowing her access, and you let out a soft sigh.

Her mouth reaches your ear, and she whispers, "Plus, if I get sick too, then we're both stuck in bed together. How terrible." You shove her off playfully, unable to suppress a laugh.

You watch as she gets up off the bed searching for one of the items she bought for you: Vicks Vaporub. She returns to the bed and settles in front of you. You shift closer until you're sitting face to face.

"My body hurts," you say, your frustration becoming more noticeable.

"Shh. I know, baby. I'm gonna try and make it better for you, okay?" she reassures, gently moving your hair out of the way to apply the cool gel on your chest. She carefully pulls down the straps of your tank top, creating a clear working space.

"I promise this will help a little bit, honey."

She opens the jar, dips her fingers in, and applies the rub to your chest with care. The sensation is cold, but oddly comforting. The intense minty smell instantly burns your nose. You watch as she runs her hand from the center of your chest up to your shoulder, squeezing gently when she reaches the top. Her touch is gentle yet firm, sending shivers down your spine.

"This okay? I know it's kind of cold, sorry," she says, dipping her fingers back into the jar for more gel. You can't help but admire the way her ringed fingers dip into the substance. She repeats the same process on the other side of your chest, her fingers gliding slowly across your chest. creating a tingling sensation that spreads warmth beneath your skin.

"Yeah, it's fine. Feels good, actually."

Despite your discomfort, a warm feeling spreads through your stomach as you watch Hazel take care of you so tenderly. As she wipes the small excess of the substance off on her hoodie sleeve, her eyes meet yours, filled with compassion and affection, conveying a silent promise to take care of you.

"I think I'm just really good with my hands," she remarks playfully. You shove her in a half-hearted attempt at retaliation, then surrender and collapse into her, your head buried into her neck with your hands in her lap. Her cold hands grip your waist and start to move up, drawing gentle lines up and down your back with her fingers.

"Thank you for taking care of me," your voice croaks. You sniffle, feeling overwhelmed by gratitude and annoyance at your lingering sickness. Hazel, sensing your frustration, instinctively reaches up to gently wipe away the tears that escape your eyes. Her touch is tender, her eyes filled with love and concern as she softly brushes her thumb against your cheek.

"You don't have to thank me, my love," she whispers, her voice soothing. She wraps you in her arms again, holding you tightly as she maneuvers you both back to lying down. Face to face, you stare into her big blue eyes.

"I hate feeling this way," you admit, your voice laced with frustration. "I just want to get better and go back to normal." Hazel's eyes soften with understanding, and her fingers begin gently caressing through your hair.

"I know, honey.” She says. "I hate seeing you like this too. I promise, first thing tomorrow, I'll take you to the doctor if you want. We'll figure out what's going on, and you'll get the proper help you need."

You find solace in her words, a glimmer of hope in the midst of your frustration. "Thank you," you whisper, your voice cracking with emotion. Hazel smiles, her eyes reflecting unwavering determination.

"Of course," she replies, her fingers tenderly tracing circles on your back. "I'll be with you every step of the way, holding your hand.” In the quiet intimacy of the moment, you look into Hazel's eyes, your gaze filled with deep affection and sincerity.

"I love you," you say, your voice barely a whisper.

Hazel smiles, her eyes softening with the same depth of love mirrored in your own.

"I love you too, more than words can express," she replies, her hand moving down your body to rest on your hip, squeezing it gently.

"You mean the world to me, I literally only ever care about what you are doing or how you are feeling.” She adds.

You both laugh quietly, feeling thankful to have found someone who cares for you so deeply.

"I'm so lucky to have you," you confess, your heart swelling with gratitude. I don't know what I'd do without you." Hazel leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"And I'm lucky to have you too," she murmurs, her voice filled with unwavering devotion. "We're a team, you and I. I mean it.” You share a smile, your gazes locked.

“God we can be so cheesy sometimes,” you remark, letting out a soft laugh.

"Yeah, you love it." She shifts onto her back, pulling you closer and wrapping her arm around you, inviting you to rest your head on her chest.

"Do you feel comfy?" She asks softly.

"Mhm,” you murmur in contentment.

“I’m right here babe, I’m not leaving. I’ll stay with you as long as it takes for you to get better okay? I just want you to sleep well and get some rest now"

You let sleep begin to tug at you, completely content, wrapped in each other's arms, listening to the soft rhythm of Hazel's breathing slowing down.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

a/n: Okay this was literally the first fic i have ever written so please forgive me if its god-awful. Also if you enjoyed this wanna send me a request I would seriously be so happy <3

also sorry the formatting on this is kinda weird

#hazel callahan #hazel bottoms #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan fanfiction #hazel callahan fanfic #hazel callahan x you #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #sapphic #wlw #ruby cruz #hazel callahan fic #hazel callahan imagine

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youremyonepiece · 4 months

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salty afflictions

sanji x gn!reader (no pronouns used), reader's pov

your powers come with unique dietary restrictions, but sanji's not one to back down from a challenge (especially not if it's you).

warnings: none, light fluff (please lmk if there are any i should add!)

word count: 1.9k

"okay," sanji says, tone verging on exasperation, "let me get this straight." he peers at you through his furrowed curly eyebrows, but there is no malice in his stare-- only disbelief. "you can't eat salt?"

you laugh uncomfortably at the question. the rest of the straw hats have their eyes fixed on you as well, waiting earnestly for your answer. most of their plates lie forgotten in front of them; only luffy is moving, shoveling food into his mouth with both hands, but he too is staring directly at you. sanji is standing in front of you, a matching plate balancing on one of his hands. your own grip tightens around your carrot as you shift and shrink under the weight of everyone's combined gazes before taking a small chomp to hopefully diffuse some of the tension.

it doesn't work.

it makes things worse.

the carrot feels like dry mulch as you chew and swallow it loudly. everyone else simply continues to stare, the moment dragging on as they wait for you to respond.

you let out another uncomfortable laugh once your mouth is empty before clearing your throat. "um, yeah," you finally manage to say. you resist the urge to slam your head into the dinner table at your eloquence and continue, "the salt content in my body would get too high. i'd be no different than a puddle of sea water. which would, um-- which would be bad."

you can't stop another laugh from defensively bubbling through your lips. sanji notices and moves away to put your plate in front of luffy (with him around, no food would ever go to waste). "well," he says, pointedly nonchalant as he takes his seat and leans back to take a drag from his cigarette. "i love a good challenge, and you certainly are a lovely one." a smirk forms around his cigarette and just like that, the tension in the room shatters. you throw a grateful look in his direction as the crew's attention turns away from you and back to their dinners.

"typical sanji," usopp says with a playful roll of his eyes before shoving a spoonful of food into his mouth. "still, that must suck."

"yeah," you say in response. "i mean, i'm used to it, but i definitely miss some foods. it saved my life, though," you say with a shrug, "so it is what it is." you take another bite of your carrot, larger than the last in hopes of deterring anyone from asking you any more questions.

you feel someone's eyes on you again and turn your head to see sanji staring at you. there's still a smile on his face and in his eyes-- you can't help but hold your breath as you meet his gaze. he's looking at you as though he’s just discovered a new type of fish, you think to yourself. like he can't wait to experiment and discover the best ways to filet, bake, fry you up.

unlike with the others, being under sanji’s gaze doesn’t make you squirm in your seat. instead, you find yourself feeling comfortably warm-- you’re always comfortable with sanji. he’s been nothing but considerate and thoughtful from the start, and you knew he would never do anything to hurt you.

well, he would never do anything to hurt any woman, not just you.

you ignore the turning of your stomach-- get real, he would never feel the same way about you-- and instead avert your eyes to take great interest in your carrot. wow, it sure is orange--

"you'll have to allow me to borrow some of your time later, sweetheart," sanji says, interrupting your riveting thoughts. "we'll figure out what i can cook for you. can't have you going hungry, now can we?" he winks at you and you feel the heat creep up your neck and into your cheeks.

“um-- sure,” you say, and you're sure your face is bright red. gosh, did you have to be so awkward?

to your relief, though, franky starts talking excitedly about his ideas for new upgrades on the sunny, and with that the flow of the conversation is thankfully diverted away from you and the side effects of your hydro-hydro logia devil fruit. you finish your carrot as quickly as you can before quietly excusing yourself from the group and scurrying out onto the deck.

and though you don’t dare look up to confirm it, you swear you feel sanji’s eyes on you the entire time until you’ve left the room. but no-- there’s no way. you’re imagining it, letting your fantasies get the better of you. he wouldn’t have watched you leave, not when nami and robin were still in the room with him.

(if you had looked up, though, you would have found you were right.)

you’re sitting on a bench by nami’s tangerine trees the next morning after breakfast, absentmindedly flipping through a novel you borrowed from robin. it’s an unusually calm, placid day, the weather perfect and the soft breeze refreshing. the kind of day you want to spend outside and doing nothing. it’s easy to zone out the various noises from your crewmates: luffy’s joyful yelling followed closely by chopper’s worried shouts, zoro’s rumbling snores, nami’s playful teasing at usopp’s desperate rambling, sanji’s... footsteps?

you look up from the book to find the blond man walking calmly towards you with his blazer slung over his shoulder, an easy smile gracing his lips. it grows as your eyes meet, but he doesn’t speak until he comes to a stop a few feet away from you. “hello, gorgeous. got a minute? i wanted to get your thoughts on a few dishes i whipped up earlier for you.”

be cool, you tell yourself. be calm, casual-- “yeah, of course! i’d love to!” great job.

but you can’t feel upset for too long, not when sanji’s face lights up at your response. not when he’s holding a hand out for you to take. your cheeks grow warm (surprise, surprise) as you pause, taking in the sight of the kind man in front of you and his breathtaking smile, before reaching out to take his hand.

you’re hyper-aware of his fingers against yours as he gently guides you to the kitchen and can’t help the wave of disappointment that washes over you when he pulls away to drape his jacket over a bar chair and roll up his shirt sleeves. he motions you over to the table before turning away to grab a couple plates from the kitchen counter.

“so,” he begins as he places various dishes in front of you, “i normally use salt in just about every dish i make. it’s a flavor enhancer-- without it, most foods would taste flat and bland.” he places the last dish in front of you before straightening and flashing one of his brilliant smiles at you. (if you were in a cartoon, your heart would have just doki-doki-ed out of your chest.) “but there’s other ways to bring flavor into food, and there’s beauty in simple foods, too.”

you take in the various foods in front of you; each plate contains no more than maybe five spoonfuls of food, but there are so many. salads and soups and stews and snacks-- so many foods you hadn’t eaten since getting your powers. sanji pushes one of the plates closer to you-- a colorful pile of leafy greens and veggies, topped with what looks like olive oil and a freshly squeezed lemon wedge-- and takes the seat across from you. “salads, of course, are an easy answer. the best salads use fresh vegetables and high quality oil, and as long as you balance the flavors well, you won’t even miss the saltier ingredients like cheese.”

intrigued, you bring a forkful to your mouth, and-- wow. you never had been a huge fan of salads, especially since they now consisted of the majority of your meals, but this is easily the best salad you’ve ever had. you clean the plate within a couple seconds, much to sanji’s apparent delight.

and so he continues, explaining his reasoning behind each dish and watching intently as you practically inhale the food. “sanji,” you say in between dishes after what must have been over half an hour of food tasting, “this is amazing. i don’t think i’ve had food that tastes this good ever-- not even before i ate my devil fruit. i can’t believe you did all this for me.”

it’s his turn to blush at your words, and for some reason his bashfulness makes you feel embarrassed as well. you shut your mouth and look back down at the plate in front of you: cauliflower chunks he had coated in a spiced batter before frying and coating in a sauce made from nami’s tangerines. it’s true, though-- every single dish you had tasted had been phenomenal, so clearly made with kindness. you had resigned yourself to eating raw veggies for the rest of your life, and the fact that sanji had come up with a whole slew of meals that you could eat despite your power-induced diet, that too within a day of learning about it... no one had ever done something so thoughtful for you before.

your thoughts are interrupted by an unexpectedly acrid scent-- is something... burning? you look up from the plate, frowning, and almost immediately spot the smoking pan on the stove. “sanji! the pan!”

sanji, who had been staring at you with a dazed look in his eyes, seems to come to his senses with a few blinks. he glances backwards towards the stove and does a double-take in shock before leaping to his feet and rushing over to the burning pan. “merde! so sorry, love-- i must have forgotten to turn it off-- i was so excited to see your reaction--” he hisses suddenly, pulling his hand back with a jerk.

“sanji! did you burn yourself?” you’re on your feet, too, reaching his side within a blink of an eye. you take his hand in yours without hesitation, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“darling, you should stay back, the fire--”

within seconds, you’ve doused the stove in water using your free hand. you then turn your eyes back to sanji’s burn, frowning in concentration as you coat the reddening skin with your cold water. “it doesn’t look too bad,” you murmur, eyes locked on his wound, “but you should still have chopper check it out.”

“will do,” he responds softly, and you freeze-- his voice is so close. you were so close.

you look up, throat dry as you meet his eyes. you feel your cheeks heat up yet again, but you can’t bring yourself to step away-- you can’t bring yourself to move. “you should--” you stop to clear your throat-- “you should be more careful.”

“i always am, but something about you makes me forget where i am.” he must see the question in your eyes, because he quickly adds, “in a good way, of course.”

“yeah, um-- same,” you say intelligently.

he laughs at your response, eyes full of affection as they remain on you. “c’mon,” he says, softly tapping your cheek with his uninjured hand before stepping slightly away from you, “we still have a few dishes to go.”

gosh, you think, stunned in place as you watch him move back towards the table. this man is truly going to be the death of you.

#one piece #sanji x you #sanji x reader #sanji fanfic #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #if i had a nickel for every sanji fic i wrote where sanji takes you to the kitchen to eat his food #id have two nickels #which isnt a lot but its weird that its happened twice #i have so so many fics that are 80 to 90 percent done #hopefully there'll be a lot of posts coming soon 🤞🏽#my writing #youremyonepiece

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kobb4ni2 · 5 months

Text

[ GENDER NEUTRAL (?) FEM (?) READER ]

My Marine! Reader who is very popular, and for the sake of this idea I’m going to give her as a Vice Admiral. I CAN HEAR YALL BOOING OKAY I KNOW SO BASIC LEAVE ME ALONE😔😔

TW: Imagine Gojo fans….but make them Marine!Reader fans. !!! Also I haven’t watch Film Red but I guess there’s some sort of internet platform to share vids or an internet overall, soo take this sh!t talk with salt.

Marine! Reader is a calm and nurturing person, their charisma with their hard working self made them a deserved Vice Admiral. Ever since you sailed out to the sea you’ve attracted many eyes, may it be admiration because of your strength , or awed because of your undeniable beauty even in battle. And even if you’re not in a mission you would always use your heavy berries (YOU’RE A VICE ADMIRAL U HAVE TO GET THOSE BIG BERRIES) to re-visit the town that you just saved, being responsible to the damages and paying for all of it. People there had to rub their eyes to make sure that you were the correct person. When you were in your white layer clothes you would be calm and try your best to be nonchalant making sure that you were deep engrave on your job but when you visited and started making small talk people were shocked! Over time the civilians you’ve saved from the many villages or small islands you’ve saved have accepted you to their communities. They would make small banquets whenever you arrive, even though you told them several times to not do it, they will always go against your words and hope that you eat well.

Kids would play with you even with your intimidating height, they would swing on your arms and whenever you try to leave they would grab on your legs to slow you down, the kids parents might have been worried but when they saw you intriguing them with a smile in your face they immediately calmed their nerves. Grandmas and Grandpas would always pinch the vice admiral’s cheeks, and since they were normal civilians you had to bend down to make squish your cheeks. (IM GETTING CARRIED AWAY IM SORRY)

But back to plot. Your calming and nurture personality, your beauty that could shine in battle has captured many eyes of other marine, civilians or even pirates! And this where the one piece internet goes in.

Aight imagine someone made an edit of Marine! Reader, it could be you fighting, or even doing an official interview! Cool right! But if anyone ever opens the comment section it would be just filled with the most ATROCIOUS, MOUTH GAPING, EYES OUT THE SOCKET down bad comments💀💀 here's some examples.

Marine! Reader's Fav pet (real!): "The way that it started getting bricked up like its Bob the builder is crazy 😅‼️(I don't even have a wee wee)"

<3: "ten minutes in the room with them and one is walking out pregnant, and it's not gonna them (I'm a dude)"

hewwo:3 : "JUST THE TIP [NAME] PLEASE IM ON MY FUCKING KNEES, IM SO DESPRATE PLEASE😭😭‼️‼️"

Marine! Reader's bewbs mole: "TILL THE WALLS (not the room) IS COVERED WHITE!!!"

[FOR FEM MARINE!READER] ammniaa: "Want their strap inside of me so bad, that i might think that I'm pregnant brooo😞😞😞"

Astro laddie : "My flaps started clapping out of excitement <3"

Star 4 her: "All lubed up and ready to serve 💓💓"

Beeheaver: "Man I don't care if they're 14'9 tall, ITS GONNA WORK I PROMISE😈😈‼️‼️‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥"

In Marine!Reader I thrust!: "Yes [NAME]~ There~ I'm sensitive there!~ Nghh~~

Marine! Reader's bloody bandages: "CMON [NAME] I CAN'T DO ALL THE WORK MY SELF, MY FINGERS HURTS😾💢"

reimikoba: "My muscle memory will always remember their fingers and tongue (＾▽＾) "

pantsonfire: "Not a fishman but, damn whenever I see them in my screen, it's natural habit suddenly is water from their-"

scary monsterz: "bend over and ready, warm and cozy, toys and liquid on sight"

Aw man if yandere [character] ever fins out how popular their beloved Marine! Reader is, they would make sure to cut the wifi GLOBALLY

I'll just end it here, cuz I feel like this is just a stupid ass idea 💀 yall can give me some brain juice aka asks 4 thus doe :3

The edit video I was thinking about when I was making this. (I can't do velocity edits just transition and tweeing💀)

#yandere x reader #yandere #x reader #drabble #yandere op #yandere one piece x reader #yandere one piece #this is just a fucking crack💀💀💀#i may or may not have commented this in some....katakuri and shi long lang comments :3 #hot take but gojo isnt really that fine😭😭#asexuals lesbians when it comes to their favorite male character😈😈‼️‼️🔥🔥#I SWEAR IM WORKING ON THE WARLORD SERIES I SWEAR😞😞#happy new year btw :3 #one piece x reader #one piece

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cherry-pop-elf · 5 months

Text

Unleashed

Bill Weasley x Reader

You decided to be a good partner and see your boyfriend Bill. You heard he was on vacation from Gringotts, and knew he would be at the beach side house. There was just one problem. The Goblins give him those vacations for more than just keeping his mental health strong. He had one at the end of every month, and the day you arrived was when the moon was out

18+, Dubious Consent ((Not really but respect people who aren’t into that!)) Breeding, Gender Neutral Anatomy Scratching, Biting, blood play, overstimulation uncanny valley, werewolf stuff in general, after care, disabled talk, crying, fluff

Commissions Open

“Oh Billy~!” You sung, as you stepped out of the fire place. You were so excited. Your boyfriend was on vacation, and that meant you could hound him with kisses and cuddles. As a Curse Breaker, he needed to make sure his mental health was strong and in check. Unless the curses consume him. That meant the Goblins made sure he got plenty of vacation days. Even a week off at the end of every month!

“Come on out you big ole dog. I know you are here.” You giggle, as you set your bag on the couch. Now where did your boyfriend go? You would hurry to the porch of the house. Leaning over the railing, and admiring the beautiful view. It was just stunning. The salt air against your skin, the cool water under the stars, oh it was like out of a fairy tale. Made you understand why he loved the beach so much.

“Oh to live here.” You sighed, as you looked to the sky. Admiring the clouds, as they rolled by. As they moved, you furrowed your brow. Was the moon full? You squinted, as you leaned over the railing more. Trying so hard to get a better view. As you did, there would suddenly be a warm presence behind you.

“There’s my Habibi.” You would hear, growled into your ear, as hands would grab at the railing. You were pinned against it, as you saw the clouds shift. The moon was full, and glimmering so vividly. Right against the water, and causing the world to be casted in a nearly blue glow. It’s a full moon, and your boyfriend had you pinned.

“Way to go, dumbass-“ You muttered to yourself. William wasn’t a real werewolf. Given his curse breaking job, he held an almost immunity of sorts. He wasn’t like his uncle Lupin. He didn’t have a proper transformation. He did have little habits, like eating raw meat. Just small things. He did get paranoid though. Always avoiding everyone when the moon was full. Seems like tonight will be a night to test some theories.

“You smell so good-“ He sighed, as he would nuzzle his scared up nose into your neck. His body grinding into yours, as he kept you trapped. You swore his skin seemed paler than normal, from looking at his hands. You did your best to turn your head, and his normally straight hair was in thick waves. As if fur that was dense around him. The way his eyes stared into you. Well, eye.

After his attack from Greyback, he lost a large amount of his face. Leaving his teeth exposed, and missing an eye. One that Uncle Moody replaced with one of his old ones. So the two brown eyes never quite matched. You didn’t find him ugly for having one eye, missing an eye lip, exposed teeth, or even how the scars cut into his hair line. You weren’t there just for his looks. He’s your Bill. Seems tonight you’ll be his trophy.

“You taste so good-“ He added on, as he ran his tongue across your neck. The way his working eye’s pupil was blown out. As if on some kind of drug, and you were the supplier. His body was just burning up so badly, as he held you tightly. That’s when it registered he was naked. You’ve seen such many times before, but now felt so different. Despite being the werewolf, this was still a vulnerable position he was in.

“You in there, Billy?” You asked, but not in fear. He was clearly showing signs you were mated, and he couldn’t infect you from the fact he wasn’t properly turned. You were never in real danger, and you knew this was beyond his control anyhow. You knew this would be something you would deal with. Every time the full moon was close, he always got more primal anyway. You were prepared, and never afraid. Seemed like he could smell your lack of fear, and that had him excited.

“Hm-?” He hardly recognized you were talking at all, as he was just grinding his crotch on your ass. Like the dog in heat that he was. “That answered that-“ You muttered, as you looked around. It was in a private area, sure, but you much rather no risk someone thinking you were being assaulted.

“Come here boy-! Come on-!” You whistled, as you quickly ducked under his arms. Just narrowly slipping out, and leaving him confused on where you went. He was quick to turn around, and watched as you started to take your top off. A means to lure him back into the house. Seemed to work beautifully, as he was quick to hurry back inside. Nearly tackling you down.

“WOAH WOAH-!” Hardly had another thought, before he was tearing your clothes off like paper. Did his nails get longer? You swore you could feel thin lines over your body already. Had a sting, but you knew he wasn’t trying to actually hurt you. It was just caught in the cross fire.

“Oh you are fiesty-“ You admit, as he was just devouring you. His tongue tracing over your chest, and drinking you in. You wondered if he was only acting like this because you were a couple. That because his mate showed up he went feral. You won’t lie, that made you feel really special. That even the wolf in his head was madly in love with you. Had you blushing more then the way his tongue felt so rough on your skin.

“I need you, so badly-“ He was panting already, as he was spreading your legs wide. You covered your mouth, as you looked up to him. You swore he looked like a god. The way the moon was casting around him, like some kind of wisp outline. The way the stars sparkled through his burning hair. Looking like the gods he’s talked about, when he used to live in Egypt. You were falling in love all over again.

“All mine. You are all mine.” He repeated, as his nails dug into your ankles. As if to mark you from head to toe. You were soon feeling the burn in your thighs, as he forced your legs towards you. Maybe taking up yoga with Luna was a smart idea, because wow was this pulling muscles you didn’t even know you had.

“All yours. I’m all yours, big boy.” You nodded, as that made your boyfriend give an eerie sight. With only half his face working, it made all his features so much more strange. How his smile was curled so high, and teeth so sharp. The way his working pupil was staring through you, as drool was dripping out of his exposed teeth. He was starving for you, and it was almost easy to forget there was a human inside of that devilish grin.

“And never forget it, Habibi.” He warned, before you suddenly felt his cock slam inside of you. It burned, and stretched you wide. Your head was spinning, as he was already snapping his hips into yours. Not leaving any room to breathe, as he had to make sure he breed you. If there wasn’t a way to knock you up, he’s gonna try anyway. The wolf in him didn’t care if it was possible or not. He just had to claim.

“Oh William-!” You moaned, as your fingers pulled at the carpet under you. Feeling how your legs were soon resting on his shoulders, as his own hands were tearing at the fur on the ground. Leaving deep lashes, as if the human in him was trying to make sure you weren’t in its war path. Bill was still in there, and you knew he was fighting. Maybe he shouldn’t.

“B-Billy….It’s ok-“ You begin, as you reached a hand up to his face. “I like this….I l-like it a lot.” You smiled, as you swore you saw something flicker in his working eye. Something human again. “Let it happen. Let go. I’ll be ok.” You hushed, as you traced his scars with your thumb. To try and let him finally let go. He’s constantly been holding back. He’s never been allowed to not be ok. He’s the eldest brother. He’s had to much weight on his shoulders. He deserves to let loose.

“Habibi….” His voice trailed, before you forced him to kiss you. To truly let him know you’ll be ok. Time seems to freeze, before he let himself go. He returned the kiss, before his claws were firm on your thighs. Sinking into the flesh, and leaving red lines. You whined, but were quickly cut off by the sharp smack of your hips.

“Fuck fuck fuck-“ You couldn’t stop yourself from whimpering, as he was soon sinking his teeth into your neck. You weren’t dreaming it, his teeth did get sharper. He was truly treating you like a chew toy, and you didn’t mind. Your Billy was always so anxious about hurting you, but now he finally had an excuse to let go. You love his gentle side, but getting frisky is always adored.

“Oh William-“ You moaned his name, as he was fucking you into the floor. You swore he would break through, with how rough he was being. Might break your back, but you didn’t care. You were loving the mixture of pain and pleasure. How he would rub your nerves just right, whenever he bit into you to deep. As if his human half was fighting his wolf half.

“AH-! WILLIAM-!” Your head was thrown back, as you were quick to climax. Your body shaking, but he wasn’t stopping. He wasn’t going to stop until he was satisfied. How long would it take for him to feel release? You didn’t know. You just knew you were sobbing, as your body was trembling at the next climax already building up.

You didn’t know how many times you came, but it was all becoming a blur. Was just blood, sweat, and tears. And you were loving it. Just nothing but meat to satisfy. The bliss of turning your brain off, and just be nothing but owned by your lover. To be covered in markings, and showing anyone who saw you that you were off the market.

What finally brought you back to reality was the howl. He out right howled. You could feel your insides being pumped so full of his seed. You swore you came again from it. His voice was just echoing, as he had claimed you. Inside, and out. Was such a wonderful warmth. You felt so satisfied with it. Was making you fall asleep so peacefully. All to the nursing licks of your boyfriend.

You swore you hadn’t slept that good in ages. It was a hard sleep. A good long one, that had you feeling refreshed. If not for all the pains and aches in your body. That was what woke you up, compared to the summer sun light. Creeping in through the bedroom curtains. Seemed like someone tried to keep them closed, but it slipped through.

You, slowly, sat up. As you did, you could feel bandages all over you. Along with a sweet smell of flowers on the bedside table. You looked over, and saw that poor Bill was pampering you. Feeling so guilty from last night. Flowers, chocolates, sweets, little things that you enjoyed. Along with a little note.

“Sorry: William”

You chuckled, as you set the note aside. With the covers off, you looked yourself over. Every wound was patched, and you were covered in bruises and hickies. Made you a little giddy, you couldn’t lie. So many people would kill to have a werewolf boyfriend. You felt so smug, and wanted to proudly show them off. But first, William needed to be cared for.

After every full moon, he would suffer extreme muscle fatigue. His bones were literally breaking and re breaking after all. Your muscles don’t feel so good after that. Along with other issues. Chronic pain, exhaustion, and just over all trouble walking. It normally passes after a day or two. Hence why the goblins give him that week break. So he can recover. You even went as far as to pick up books about werewolves, and spoke to Uncle Lupin. You may not feel his pain, but you damn well will try and help.

“Willy-?” You called, as you were safe in a bath robe. There you found him. Barely awake, on the couch. His hair a mangled mess, and his body visibly throbbing. The muscle spasms were kicking in. Kicking in bad. You tsked, as you accioed a comb. Soon you were on the couch with him. Forcing him to sit up, and you would nurse at his hair.

“I-“ But you cut him off. “I already know what you are going to say, Mr. This is a disability. One that I know 100% about when I was going to date you. I knew what I was signing up for. I also could have very well floo my way out, or even attacked you with chains. Since you aren’t a full werewolf. We’ve been over this.” You kissed his cheek, as you would brush through his hair. A means to let him have some mercy.

“I love you. Disability or not. You just need a little extra help, now and again. That’s ok.” You reassured, as you began to braid his hair. That way it didn’t get tangled for a while. “Besides, I had fun.” You tease, as you laid on the couch. Forcing his head on your chest, as his legs would kick from the muscle spasms.

“What did I do to deserve you?” He asked, as he looked up. That big, beautiful, brown eye. So full of love. “By being you~” You reassured him, as you would rub over his shoulder. He was soon cuddling into you, as you both shared a lazy morning.

Least now you both knew what to do together next full moon. Have a few potions, a med kit, with a bottle of wine. That’s a date night for you two. Unconventional? Yes. Just right for you two? Damn right. He’s a Weasley. You really expected things to be normal? Normals boring anyway.

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bethanythebogwitch · 9 months

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Today's Wet Beast Wednesday is about sea otters. I was originally going to do this last week in honor of the 24th birthday of Rosa, the world's oldest sea otter (and one of the oldest sea otters on record) but, well, I forgot. But better late than never.

(Image: a sea otter on its back, yawning)

The sea otter (Enhydra lutris) is one of only two otters to live in salt water, the other being the rare and poorly-understood marine otter (Lontra felina). Otters are aquatic mammals of the family Mustelidae, which makes them cousins to weasels, badgers, wolverines, and martens. While many mustelids can swim, otters have adapted to a primarily aquatic lifestyle. Sea otters are divided into three subspecies: the Asian sea otter (Enhydra lutris lutris) which lives from northernmost Japan up through the northwest Pacific, northern sea otter (E. l. kenyoni) which lives from Alaska down to Oregon, and the southern sea otter (E. l. nereis), found in California.

(image: a sea otter relaxing on a rock)

The sea otter is one of the smallest marine mammals (only the marine otter is smaller), yet it is also the heaviest of all mustelids. Males are larger than females, averaging between 1.2 and 1.5 meters (3'11" to 4'11") and 22 to 45 kg (49 to 99 lbs). Females average 1 to 1.4 m (3'3" to 4'7") and 14 to 33 kg (31 to 73 lbs). I honestly thought they were around the size of cats and was surprised to find out how big they can get. Otters are the most recent of the marine mammals and have not developed the thick layer of blubber other marine mammals use to keep themselves warm. Instead, sea otters warm themselves with the densest fur of any mammal, with almost a million hairs per square inch. The fur has two distinct layers: a longer layer of waterproof guard hairs and a shorter underfur layer. The guard hairs keep the underfur dry and trap air between the layers. This air gets heated by the otters body heat and provides an extra layer of insulation. This is the same principle that wet suits work on. The air layer also provides some added buoyancy. Sea otters are positively buoyant and can float on the surface of the water. There are many other adaptations to an aquatic lifestyle that sea otter have. Their feet are webbed and have long digits, allowing them to act as flippers but also making them slower and more clumsy on land. The front claws have retractable claws and pads that let them grab onto slippery objects. When swimming, they use their entire real bodies, but primarily their hind feet, for propulsion. They can hold their breath for up to five minutes and have whiskers used to search for food in darker water. Their ears and nostrils close when submerged to keep water out. While sea otter can, and often do, move around on land, they are capable of living their entire lives in the water. Some evolutionary biologists think sea otters represent an early stage of marine mammal development and can compare them to more established marine mammals like cetaceans and pinnipeds.

(image: a wet weasel holding a sea urchin)

Sea otters are carnivores whose diet consists mostly of hard-shelled invertebrates, though they will also eat fish. They forage for food on the sea floor in dives that usually last a minute. Their paws give them an advantage over other marine mammals, who can only use their mouths for capturing prey. Otters by contrast can pick up and move rocks and dig into the sediment. They are the only marine mammals to catch prey with their paws instead of teeth. Otters carry prey to the surface and eat while floating on their backs. Famously, they use rocks to break open the hard shells of their prey, making them one of the relatively few mammals to use tools (though tool use is proving to be more common than previously thought). Under each arm is a pouch of loose skin that is used to hold prey and rocks. Each otter has a favorite rock that they carry with them. Sea otters have blunt teeth used to crush through prey's shells.

(image: an otter dining on crab)

While sea otters do spend a lot of time in groups, they are not considered truly social animals as they forage, groom, and defend themselves on their own instead of with help. Groups of otters are called rafts that typically have between 10 and 100 members, but can reach up to 2000 members. Rafts are single sex, each having only male or female members. When resting, raft members will hold hands to keep themselves from drifting apart. One social behavior they engage in is play, which is done frequently. Mating season happens in autumn. During summer and autumn, males will attempt to establish territories and push other males out. Females mover between territories at will. Males without territories will swim around and attempt to find females in heat. Males will attempt to mate with multiple females. During estrus, the males and females will bond through play and sometimes aggressive behavior. When mating, the male will bite the female's head, which can leave scars. Otters are capable of delayed embryo implantation, where they can wait for several months between conception and the embryo beginning development. Pregnancy lasts four months and typically results in a single pup. While males are absentee fathers, females are very caring mothers who spend almost all their time caring for their pups. The only time she leaves her pup will be when diving. The pup will be left floating on the surface, often wrapped with kelp to keep it from floating away. The baby will cry for its mother until she comes back. The mother will teach her pup how to dive and forage as it ages. Pups will stay with their mothers for 6 to 8 months (longer in colder areas), and sometimes until they are fully developed. Childless females will foster orphaned pups. Females reach sexual maturity at age 3-4 and males around age 5. They average 10 - 15 years in the wild and can live significantly longer in captivity. The oldest living sea otter is Rosa, living in the Monterey Bay Aquarium, who is 24 years old. The oldest sea otter on record was a female named Etika who lived to be 28.

(image: two sea otters holding hands)

(image: a sea otter mother sleeping with its baby on its stomach)

Sea otters are a classic example of an endangered species. They have been hunted throughout history for their fur. Eventually, this reduced the world population to less than 2000 individuals. They are now the target of conservation measures worldwide and local and international protections, which has helped the population rebound. They still have not regained their historical population or range, though reintroduction measures have helped them reestablish in historical territories. The southern sea otters are the most endangered. Famously, almost all southern sea otters alive today are descended from a group of 50 discovered in 1938, when the subspecies was almost extinct. Sea otters are classified as endangered by the IUCN. Sea otters are a keystone species, having a major ecological impact on their habitats. Famously in California, the near-extinction of southern sea otters resulted in a population boon of sea urchins (their primary prey) which proceeded to kill vast areas of kelp forest. Curren threats include predation, pollution, and habitat loss. Oil spills are particularly devastating to sea otters, as the oil destroys the air layer in their fur, destroying their ability to keep themselves warm.

(image: an employee with MBARI releasing a rehabilitated sea otter back into the wild)

#wet beast wednesday #sea otter #otter #marine mammals #wet weasel #water weasel #moist mustelid #marine biology #biology #zoology #ecology #animal facts #adorable

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wellntruly · 4 months

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Beets & Kale Recovery Bowl

I want to share a hearty salad I came up with a year or so ago, as every time I make it I think, dang this is so good, and its nutrition benefits are real big, especially when you're healing up from things. The combination of the earthy sweetness of the beets with the salty sharpness of the cheese, the nuttiness of the farro, and just that dark greenness of the kale really works for me, and maybe it will for you too.

What’s in here:

2 bunches lacinato (Tuscan) kale | high in iron, which your body uses to make hemoglobin to carry oxygen around

Rinse, cut out the stiff stems, and chop the leaves into bite-sized pieces. Sauté in olive oil over medium heat, with salt to taste, until softened but still with some body.

3 to 4 medium beets | high in folate, a B vitamin that your body uses to generate cells

Peel, chop into 1/2 inch dice, toss with olive oil & salt, and roast in an 8x8 glass baking dish (I’ve also used a glass pie plate) covered tightly with foil for 20 minutes at 425 F. Remove foil and roast uncovered for 10 minutes more to caramelize a bit.

1 cup dry farro (wheat berries) | high in fiber, which your digestive system loves

Rinse like it’s rice, and simmer in salted water for about 30 minutes uncovered. Drain well.

6 ounces Beecher’s Flagship cheese (or any semi-hard cheese, I just love this one!) | source of protein and high in calcium

Crumble or cut into little cubes

3 ounces hazelnuts | source of protein and high in good fats, which your body needs to properly utilize all the nutrients above

Toast and chop

Good olive oil | ditto about those fats

For drizzling at the end

This will be enough for about four servings, and easily keeps in the fridge for multiple days worth of meals. I put the kale and farro together, but store the beets separately so they don’t turn everything pink (yet), and add the cheese and hazelnuts after re-warming the rest in a lightly oiled pan. Best warm or at room temperature.

#just had my third bowl #food #menus

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copperbadge · 1 year

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airmidcelt

I realllllly want to try making bread, do you have a yeast bread recipe rec for a beginner? I have a stand mixer that I want to use.

I have many recipes! I’m throwing a handful behind the cut. I’m including Beer Bread, Hokkaido “Milk” Bread, and King Arthur Bagels.

I will say that I’ve yet to have a bad recipe from the King Arthur website, so if you’re looking for bread recipes that’s a great resource, and any recipe that asks you to knead bread for any length of time will work in a stand mixer -- generally, you should stir the ingredients by hand until reasonably incorporated, then attach the dough hook and knead.

A note -- using bread flour instead of all-purpose really does make a difference in the quality of the bread. All-purpose is fine, but you’ll get a better and more consistent product with bread flour. I also add King Arthur’s “Bread and Cake Improver” to make for a fluffier crumb and softer crust.

Beer Bread

adapted from https://www.agardenforthehouse.com/rustic-beer-bread-hand-kneaded/

4 cups (555 grams) bread flour

2 teaspoons (7 grams) instant yeast

2 teaspoons (12 grams) salt

12 ounces (341 ml) beer of your choice at room temperature (uh maybe stay away from pale ales, they get real skunky)

1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil

Now, I was baking with Off-Colour’s beer, which comes in 16oz cans, so if you have a 16oz can of beer, the amounts are:

694g Bread Flour

2 1/2 tsp yeast

2 1/2 tsp (16g) salt

16oz beer

1 1/4 tbsp olive oil

If you do this larger recipe, it’s best to make two loaves, or one loaf and one batch of rolls.

Stir together the flour, yeast, and salt in the mixer’s bowl and make a well in the middle. Add the beer and olive oil, and stir until a stiff, shaggy dough develops. Knead for 10 minutes (I use a dough hook in the stand mixer on low to medium speed, works fine).

Transfer the dough to a large greased bowl, flip to grease its other side, and then cover the bowl with clingfilm or a damp towel. Let the dough rise in a warm location until doubled in volume -- 90 minutes to 2 hours.

When the dough has doubled in volume, punch it down, pat it out, and form it into a tight ball. Pinch the seam to seal it. Then place the ball seam side down in a greased bowl. Cover and let rise in a warm spot until doubled in volume -- usually 30 to 45 minutes.

While the dough is rising, place a heavy, oven-proof pot (covered with its lid) on the lower-third level of the oven. Preheat the oven to 450°F. Generally people will use cast-iron dutch ovens for this, but I’ve also used an aluminum dutch oven, which is quite light and doesn’t hold as much heat; it still works fine. This dough is very versatile and will also do fine in a loaf pan without a cover, just keep an eye on the browning.

When the dough is ready, remove the pot from the oven. Flip the dough into the pot, its seam side now facing up. Cover the pot with its lid, and return it to the oven.

Bake for 30 minutes. Uncover the pot, lower the oven temperature to 400°F, and bake until the crust browns -- 10-15 minutes. Transfer the bread to a wire rack. Cool completely before slicing.

Hokkaido Milk (Tangzhong) Bread

This is a softer, fluffier bread, more like store-bought. It has one or two extra steps but is still a pretty versatile, low-skill dough.

Tang:

1/4 cup water

1/4 cup milk

3 tbsp flour

1 large egg, room temp

1/2 cup cold milk

Dough:

2 2/3 cups flour (390g)

1/4 cup sugar (35g)

2 tbsp dry milk powder, optional (15g)

1 tsp salt

2 1/4 tsp yeast

4 tbsp unsalted butter, softened

In a small saucepan off heat, whisk together the first three Tang ingredients. Heat over medium heat, whisking constantly, until mixture thickens and streaks from the whisk do not disappear. Remove from heat and pour in the remaining cold milk. Whisk to combine. Add the egg and whisk to combine.

Mix together all of the dry ingredients (all “dough” ingredients except butter) in a stand mixer bowl. Make a well in the center and pour in the tang, then stir until combined. Attach dough hook and continue to knead with dough hook on low speed.

After 5 minutes on low speed, the dough will be very sticky, sticking to the sides of the bowl. This means the gluten has started to develop. Add the softened butter in 3 additions, allowing to incorporate fully. Between additions, scrape down the sides of the bowl with a spatula if needed. The butter will look like it's not being absorbed by the dough but be patient, it will.

Once all the butter is incorporated into the dough, increase the speed to medium (4 or 5) and let dough knead for 6-8 minutes, scraping down the bowl occasionally. The dough is done when it no longer sticks to the sides of the bowl. It will be smooth and should very easily come off from the sides of the bowl.

Remove dough from mixing bowl and shape into a ball. Return to mixing bowl and cover with cling film/tea towel and let rise until doubled in size (either at room temperature for ~2 hours or overnight ~12-14 hours in fridge).

After dough has proofed, remove covering and gently deflate the dough by scraping down the sides with a spatula. Remove from bowl. You can bake this as a loaf, just shape and put in a greased loaf pan, or divide into 14-16 portions depending on size and shape into balls with floured hands, then place in a greased dish. I use a cast-iron skillet but a casserole dish will work too, or even a cookie sheet.

Cover with greased clingfilm or foil and let dough rise at room temperature until doubled in size (~up to 2 hours).

Preheat oven to 350F. Brush the top of the bread with egg wash if desired. Bake for 20-30 minutes. If the bread starts to brown too quickly, cover the top with foil paper to prevent bread from burning. Remove from oven and let cool.

And finally for something a little more complicated, the King Arthur “sandwich” bagel recipe: There are more thorough instructions at the KA website.

King Arthur Bagels

Starter:

1 cup (120g) King Arthur Unbleached Bread Flour

1/8 teaspoon salt

1/16 teaspoon instant yeast

1/3 cup (75g) water, cool

Dough:

3/4 cup (170g) water, room temperature

2 teaspoons (14g) barley malt syrup or 1 tablespoon (13g) dark brown sugar, packed

3/4 teaspoon instant yeast

1 1/4 teaspoons salt

2 1/2 cups (300g) King Arthur Unbleached Bread Flour

Water bath:

8 cups (1808g) water (I just fill the pan I’m using half-full and don’t bother measuring this)

2 tablespoons (42g) barley malt syrup or honey (I use brown sugar, works fine)

Knead together starter ingredients until thoroughly combined in a stiff dough (you can use the dough hook but it doesn’t work super well, I usually just stir it until it’s stiff). Cover and rest at room temperature for 4 to 14 hours; it should expand. I do this in the bowl of the stand mixer because why not?

Add remaining dough ingredients in the order listed, on top of the starter. Knead the stiff dough until it’s supple and elastic, 8-10 minutes with a mixer. Rest, covered, 2 hours.

Divide into eight equal pieces (80g to 85g each; I prefer mini bagels of roughly 40g each). Shape each piece by forming it into a ball, then rolling on an unfloured surface to tighten. Cover the pre-shaped dough and allow it to rest for 10 to 15 minutes.

Line a baking sheet with parchment and lightly grease, or sprinkle the parchment with cornmeal. To shape dough, poke a hole through the center and rotate to expand the hole, forming a ring shape. Place the shaped bagel onto the prepared baking sheet. Cover and let them rest until they feel slightly puffy to the touch, about 30 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 450°F. Combine the water and barley malt syrup or honey in a wide, shallow pot; the water should be at least 1 1/4" deep. Bring the mixture to a boil. Boil the bagels for 60 seconds, then use a dough whisk or slotted spoon to turn the bagels over (I often use chopsticks for this). Boil for another 60 seconds before removing from the water and placing back on the prepared pan. Bake until golden brown, 18 to 22 minutes.

#food #sam cooks #bread

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laracrofted · 1 year

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happy birthday, darling 🩷 and omg, i’m SO here for the slut era!!

“don’t forget who you belong to” + jake 😮‍💨

oh 😮‍💨 is absolutely right, and i appreciate you so much for sending this in. thank you for the birthday wishes 💌

warnings: minors dni, locker room sex, orgasm denial, crying, possessive jake who is a little emotionally stunted, not proofread. jake x fem!reader (c/s: echo).

Jake has been in a rare mood all morning.

He is like a goddamn storm cloud in the back of the classroom, sulking after Admiral Simpson calls you up to the front of the room and introduces you to the incoming Top Gun class.

"Echo is one of the two guest instructors who'll be joining us for the session. Both are distinguished Top Gun graduates, who have gone on to become..."

Six weeks ago, Cyclone couldn't stand either one of you, and now, one destroyed Uranium Plant later, Admiral Simpson is your biggest fan. You bite your cheek to hold back a smile and shoot a sidelong glance at the back of the room, wondering if Jake sees the humor in it as well.

He doesn't meet your gaze. He is laser-focused on the spot where Cyclone briefly rested a hand on your shoulder.

Confusion circles your brain, but then, Cyclone steps back and asks you to speak to the class. You can't worry about Jake's mood swings right now.

He watches on with crossed arms, bulging arm muscles straining against the olive green flight suit. And sends death glares to the one or two Top Gun students brave enough to approach you at the end of the lecture.

Later, Jake calls after you in the long hall that leads from the classroom to the locker rooms – and more importantly, to the showers. It is a warm afternoon – too warm to spend all afternoon in Nomex.

He calls your name – not your call sign – and catches your elbow, holding you in place. He pushes you against the wall, blocking you from any curious eyes that might peer down the hall.

The students are in the last class of the afternoon and shouldn't be out for another 90 minutes, but Admiral Simpson – or worse, Maverick – could still wander down the hall.

"What are you doing? What's your problem?"

Jake leans down, breath scorching hot against your throat, smelling like spearmint gum and cologne, and presses the whisper in the hollow behind your ear, "Careful, Echo. Don't forget who you belong to, darlin'."

Are you fucking kidding?

What gives him the right to be possessive over you?

A man who'd never even asked you on a real date and came crawling out of the woodwork during deployments to play boyfriend and girlfriend – or in other words, fuck you in every position humanly possible on a twin-sized mattress.

It is a good arrangement. It works.

This... is a wrench.

All of your irritation and anger and god, the fucking nerve of this man flow into a smirk. It is almost a dare.

"Who would that be? Like, the United States Navy?"

Green eyes burn, and without another word, Jake pulls you into the nearest locker room and locks the door behind you.

You are big enough to admit that –

As Jake presses you against the locker room door and wraps your legs around him, a punishing and possessive hold. Pulls your underwear to the side and coos, "Already wet for me, huh, pretty girl? Need me to remind you who you belong to?"

As Jake fucks you fast and hard against the locker room door, pushing you right to the edge over and over and over until you're whining into his neck because Jake won't let you come. Not yet.

"Shhhh. Don't whine, darling. Tell me who."

As Jake pinches the bundle of nerves between your thighs until you admit that yes, you're his, you're his with salt water streaming from your eyes, gasping breaths escaping from your mouth.

– Jake probably won this round.

#birthday 🤠 drabbles #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman x you #hangman x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin smut #hangman fic #hangman smut #i was so excited that i published this without any tags #so excellent work me #laracrofted writes #fic: jake seresin

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wordy-little-witch · 3 months

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Oh God Oh man oh jeez

Okay so. Angst. But like.

I'll put trigger warnings for it but this occurred to me at work and I'm just losing my MARBLES but-

TW for mental health issues, SH topics, hurt/comfort

Buggy growing up on a pirate ship probably lead to more than a few bad coping mechanisms- add in the sense of inferiority, his general anxious demeanor, etc, he probably hid a lot of things, even from the people he trusted most- especially from the people he trusted most.

Buggy likely had anxiety attacks or panic attacks fairly often - at first, it was handled with care, but when it became a recurring theme, some started finding it troublesome or obnoxious. When Buggy got to a certain point, he'd slip away to handle it on his own.

The only ones who really noticed or even cared enough to follow after him were Roger, who rarely COULD follow, Rayleigh, who was also often involved in the fall out, and Shanks, who would try but couldn't always get to him. Eventually Buggy, losing his shit and alone, accidently gets hurt during one of the attacks, either by nails or smth else. And suddenly things start... feeling solid. Less blurry, less frantic. Everything narrows down to the sharp-sting-hot lines and the red on his skin.

It becomes smth of a crutch to him.

He takes to wearing wrist bands, gloves, he is a bit more feisty about privacy, but very few clock something being wrong. Only Roger, Ray and Shanks feel like something is slightly off. They notice things going missing, they see how Buggy flinches sometimes with certain movements, but there's nothing concrete. There's red flags but they can't see the flagpoles to chase them back to the source.

Buggy gets in the habit of cutting young.

And then suddenly there is a Devil Fruit on board. A map, a chance, a fortune - he loves this family but he feels they don't love him. He isn't LIKE them. He's not strong like them, fast like them, he's just... Buggy. He's always just been Buggy, and Buggy has never been enough.

He plans to steal away in the night, under cover of darkness, leaving the crew short some money, sure, but they won't have the added weight of himself. He is just an anchor to them.

But Shanks finds him.

Shanks startles him.

Shanks slaps his back, tries to cheer him up, and the fruit goes down his throat, the magic explodes in his stomach, he gets angry, so so so angry, he is seeing red and he's raging and he's falling and-

And he's drowning.

Oh.

It was a real devil fruit.

Well... one way or another... he wanted to leave.

Shanks jumps after him. Shanks saves him. Buggy is soaked, cold, coughing and dizzy, and Shanks is beside him, is warm, and he's tempted, so tempted to lean into it and so he does-

And Shanks is pulled away. He opens his eyes, and the crew is there. Someone had wrapped Shanks in a towel, was fussing over him, someone was cheering for his "bravery" and Buggy-

He's cold.

He staggers to his feet, dripping, and he stumbles towards his room. Roger tries to stop him, grabs his shoulders, but Buggy is dripping with more than just sea water even though the steady streams are just as salted, so he pulls away and he runs.

He dives into their room, grabs his knife, his knees hit the floor and he moves and-

He lost the fruit.

He lost the map.

He lost his whole hand just now too.

No pain, just a split over his wrist, surreal and impossible and he can't- he can't breathe, he- what-

He drops his knife, the hand reattaches and he curls into a ball, hands burying in his hair, and he cries - silent as the grave, he is sobbing, hiccuping and sniffling, pulling his hair and he can't, he can't he can't-

Arms wrap around him, big, warm, the scent of sea air and rum and spiced strawberries, and Buggy clings to his captain as he simply shatters.

Roger sees the scars on his limbs, but he doesn't respond beyond hugging Buggy a little tighter. He doesn't react as he helps Buggy change, as he wraps his kid in his coat and holds him close, as he stares at the far wall and wonders how long and why and why didn't I know?

He doesn't say anything that night - not to Buggy at least.

He does talk to Rayleigh.

He leaves both of his sons curled up together in his own bed, tucked in with his own coat, and he meets Shanks' eyes, nods to the hardened little fire burning within them, a silent conversation of look after him and I Will echoing in the wooden walled room, and he goes to the only other person who will understand the rage, the fear, and they hug one another in silence.

Buggy is not okay. He hasn't been for a very, very long time, but they refuse to let him slip through the cracks, even if they have to chisel their way down to him themselves.

And this? This action, this choice? It changes EVERYTHING.

#buggy rayleigh #buggy roger #roger pirates #shanks and buggy #angst #hurt/comfort #yes i am projecting #leave me alone #if i didn’t get it then my blorbo will

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pisupsala · 1 year

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One for The History Books [Epilogue] [Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw]

[Summary] You are an archivist at the Pentagon, sent on assignment to TOPGUN to catalog and report on a top-secret mission. In the days under the Californian sun, a certain naval aviator puts your once orderly life in a tailspin that you might never recover from.

[Pairing] Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc

[Warnings] Mature content: swearing, (explicit) smut. 18+ only.

[Words] 6.4k

[Library]

The gravel crunches under the wheels of the rented Bronco as Bradley easily steers it into a parking spot. The lot in front of the Hard Deck is busy, even though it’s closed for a private party tonight.

You smooth down your dress as you get from the car. The loose cut makes the soft fabric gently sway in the wind, grazing your mid-thigh. The smell of salt on the gentle ocean breeze hits you, still warm from the late summer sun. It takes you back to three years ago, when you found yourself here for the first time. You close your eyes for a moment.

The first time you saw Bradley.

Back then, you didn’t know yet that it was the night your entire world pitched off its axis. You didn’t really feel it until you fell—and kept falling. Even now, you’re not always sure your feet have touched on solid ground yet.

“You okay, darlin’?” Bradley appears next to you, his fingers grazing the skin of your neck and shoulders, exposed by the wide neck of your dress.

“Yeah.” You smile up at him. Your heart still does a little jump when your eyes lock—especially today; when he looks so relaxed, every smile reaches his eyes, and he carries himself with such easy confidence, lighting up every room.

Sure, it also doesn’t hurt he’s wearing his service khakis, that look like they’ve been molded onto his body. His classic aviators complete the image of effortless coolness. It’s like you’re falling for him all over again.

Bradley closes the car door for you, before running tracing his fingers down your spine before resting on the small of your back, guiding you to the entrance of the Hard Deck. He greets some fellow officers shortly on the way, never taking his hand from your back.

Inside, the Hard Deck is busy, filled to the brim with uniformed personnel. Penny and Amelia clearly made an effort in decorating the place for tonight— red, white, and blue garlands hang from the ceiling, banners, the works. You smile; some if it is definitely Amelia’s handiwork. She has a real creative streak.

“Bradley! Darcy!” Penny is making her way through the crowd, smiling broadly. She looks amazing—her long dress makes her look like she stepped out of a classical painting. “I’m so glad you guys made it.”

You gladly accept her hug, before she turns to Bradley to hug him too. “We’re glad to be here.” He smiles.

“I love what you’ve done with the place.” You say, looking around.

“Thank you, I’m glad it actually turned out well,” Penny chuckles. “Today has been absolutely crazy.”

“You should have called, I could have come earlier to help.” You say a bit worriedly.

“Nonsense, you guys have been so busy, you should enjoy your time off together.” Penny dismisses you easily, looping her arms through yours. “Let’s get you guys some drinks—what are you having?”

“A beer for me.” Bradley says as he follows you to the bar.

“I’ll have a… sparkling water.”

Penny doesn’t say anything, but her gaze quickly travels down to your midsection. Her eyes meet yours for a moment, and you can feel the burning question behind them.

“I’m just thirsty.” You laugh, waving her away. “It’s so warm today.”

“Of course.” She smiles back.

Amelia is sat at the bar, and as you receive your drinks, in lieu of a greeting, she just says: “That empire waist looks cute.”

Teenager.

Penny rolls her eyes, and you thank Amelia graciously, trying to not blush.

Bradley is silently laughing as he leads you away to greet Pete, who is the guest of honor today.

“I think they are on to us.” He chuckles softly as he uses his free hand to pull you against him.

“Pff, I never expected differently from Penny. Amelia is surprising, though.” You sigh. “As long as they keep it to themselves, I’ll pretend this is a vodka soda or something.” You take a sip from your drink.

Two-and-a-half months. That’s how far you are along. You’ve only known for about four weeks, but since then it’s become your most closely guarded secret, shared only with Bradley.

Being a stickler for rules under normal circumstances already, you are so nervous about something going wrong, you implored Bradley not to tell anyone before the three-month mark, and especially not at Pete’s retirement party tonight.

Unfortunately, you met up with Penny right after you found out when you and Bradley visited in Nevada before they flew out for Pete’s retirement ceremony, and you already used the excuse of coming off medication when refusing a glass of wine.

It’s not going to fly again.

You haven’t seen Pete anywhere yet, but you assume he’s being kept busy as the guest of honor. Bradley stops to talk with Mickey, while you greet Nat. It’s been a while since you’ve seen her, but she’s amazingly sharp as always.

“Bradshaw, as I live and breath.” Seresin emerges from the crowd, clapping Bradley on the back.

“Hangman.” He greets back, nodding shortly, before moving just a fraction closer to you, his hand still resting on the small of your back.

“And if it isn’t Miss Williams.” He continues, grinning mischievously. “I have to say, I am surprised…”

Yep. Still an asshole.

You smile politely, as you hold up your left hand. “Actually…” You start.

“That’s Dr. Bradshaw to you, Bagman.” Bradley cuts in, almost arrogantly.

Honestly.

You giggle. He still allows Seresin to get a rise out of him so easily. You have to admit, it’s kind of cute how proud Bradley is of you. It sure as hell makes you feel amazing.

Seresin’s momentarily utterly confused look is worth it, too. Although, he recovers in typical fashion: “Well, I suppose congratulations are in order to you both. But especially Rooster, because she’s even more out of your league now.”

“Doesn’t Darcy go by Dr. Bradshaw-Williams?” Nat suddenly pipes up, shutting both Bradley and Seresin up. Mickey nearly chokes on his beer. “Since, as I recall, she had a career and got the PhD before she got a husband.”

You cannot stop yourself from laughing as you thank Nat under your breath. Bradley scoffs. After you received your doctorate, Bradley absolutely beamed with pride every time he introduced you—and you still had your maiden name then, as you were only engaged.

After you got married, and you sent him a picture of the new name plaque on your office door, Nat told you he showed it off to the whole wing.

You chose to hyphenate your name—Nat is right about that. You already have a career and publications under your maiden name, and it’s an absolute bitch to get your name changed on all those articles retroactively. Plus, you don’t want to suddenly lose any name recognition, so you hyphenate mostly for work purposes.

“True, but Dr. Bradshaw works just fine.” You grin, lightly touching Bradley’s arm. To his credit, Bradley never made an issue of you hyphenating your last name. He even admitted to you he would understand if you kept your maiden name when you discussed it.

But you know him.

When you told him you would take his last name together with your own, the look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. It was the only right decision—because deep down, it was incredibly important to him: the idea of family being a family together and sharing a name.

Bradley presses a kiss against your temple, as Seresin rolls his eyes. “Who’s up for some pool?”

“We need to talk to Mav first.” Bradley replies. “Any idea where he is?”

“Probably at the pool table, actually.” Mickey replies.

Bradley leads you through the crowd, arm wrapped around you to keep anyone from bumping into you.

You give Pete a big hug, congratulating him.

“How does it feel?” You ask, smiling.

“Strange, very strange.” He admits with a half-smile. “I don’t think it’s complete sunk in yet.”

“How was the ceremony?” You inquire conversationally. Pete chose to have his ceremony onboard of the USS Roosevelt together with his closest fellow aviators and colleagues a few weeks ago. Bradley had been there, while you stayed behind with Penny. This was the party for everyone who wasn’t at the ceremony.

“It was very nice, but let’s not talk about that now. I’d rather hear how you are doing.” Pete replies with a grin. Ah, it probably still feels raw for him, finally retiring from active duty. “How’s the new house? Are you getting settled?”

“Yeah, it’s finally as good as done.” You let out a sigh of relief. “You should come visit sometime soon.”

The last six months have been insane: you got married, bought a new place together, Bradley went on a 6-week detachment, you tried your hardest to turn that house into a home and then you got pregnant. You haven’t even been on honeymoon yet. Now, you try not to think about having to convert one of the bedrooms into a nursery soon.

“It’s as good as done if Darcy doesn’t keep buying more books,” Bradley jokes. “I will be building shelves forever at this rate.”

Pete laughs, as you gently elbow Bradley in the ribs, frowning playfully.

“I’m kidding, darlin’, I’ll build you all the shelves you want.” He concedes, laughing too. You really, really try not to blush at the implication behind Bradley’s words.

Yeah, so, you thought you had a thing for Bradley in uniform? Try having him working with his hands, power tools, in the house you bought together. Fuck. You could try to blame it on the newlywed rush, coming off birth control, missing Bradley—but the bottom line is—he’s so good with his hands, and looks so fine doing it, you’re 99% sure the shelves are the reason you’re pregnant now.

“I’m glad you kids are doing well.” Pete comments, almost wistfully.

“Thanks Mav.” Bradley replies sincerely. Although he’d probably never admit it as such, Bradley cares deeply about Pete’s opinion, and wants his approval. It’s something that goes unspoken between them, but is mutually understood.

The moment is disturbed by Seresin waltzing past with a tray of shots. “Rooster, Maverick, you’re up—two v. two against Payback and me.”

Pete and Bradley share one look—and you know they will never back down from a challenge like that. Shaking your head, you follow them to the pool table.

“Go sit down, darlin’.” Bradley leads you to a bar stool, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you slide onto it. “You still good?” He asks quietly.

You nod, smiling. Bradley is trying not to be overbearing, but he wants to make sure you are comfortable. You are okay with that—smothering, not so much. Bradley starts racking the balls as Seresin is distributing shots, and even though you shake your head, he presses one into your hand.

“Come on, Willia- shit, I have to call you Bradshaw now.” He corrects himself.

“You can call me Darcy.” You laugh.

“Will your husband be okay with that?” He taunts. Bradley shoots his a murderous look from the table.

“It’s my name, you ass.” You reply with a fake smile. “And I don’t want a shot.”

You move to put the glass back onto the tray Seresin is holding.

“It’s for a toast to Maverick’s health,” Seresin plays up his faux shock. “Surely you can’t say no to that?”

“Leave my wife alone, Hangman.” Bradley warns.

“Please tell me you didn’t get so boring since marrying Rooster.” Seresin continues needling you, ignoring Bradley. “You used to be fun: doing shots, shotgunning beers…”

You roll your eyes. Of course he wouldn’t let up, acting like going out with you and Bradley wasn’t a one-off, that time when Seresin suddenly showed up in Arlington.

You hold the shot glass up, shooting Seresin a sarcastic smile as he walks away. There’s not arguing with him.

“I’ll drink it for you.” Bradley whispers, turning to you.

“Don’t worry about it, babe.” You shake your head, as he runs his knuckles over your upper arm. “I’ll get rid of it—you keep all your faculties for the game.” You add, teasing.

“I’m glad you have such faith in me, darlin’.” Bradley drawls sarcastically. You blow him a kiss in response. Penny joins the crowd, standing next to Pete—they look radiant together—as an old friend of Pete’s makes the toast.

As everyone kicks back their drink, you bring the shot glass up to your sealed lips, tilting your head back as if you’re drinking, only to dump the clear liquid into the melting ice of your water glass as you move your head back down.

You put away both glasses on the bar behind you, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. Bradley’s fingers gently wrap around your chin, tilting your face up to his.

“A kiss for good luck?” He murmurs against your lips.

You giggle, pressing your lips against his. He tastes faintly of vodka. “I’ll be here, enjoying the view.”

“Order me another beer, sweetheart?” He asks as he accepts a cue stick from Pete. You nod affirmative, as Penny slides onto the bar stool next to you.

“Smooth move.” She comments airily. You just shoot her a look as you accept a new glass of sparkling water and a beer from the bartender. She knows. But you just shake your head.

“Not yet. Not today.” You don’t elaborate—you don’t have to. Penny nods in understanding as she grabs your hand and squeezes it in assurance. An understanding of ‘I know what you’re going through’. You squeeze back as a thank-you.

“At least one of us will be sober enough to drive.” You comment dryly, nodding to the pool table as Bradley and Pete knock back another shot. You dissolve into giggles with Penny.

You chat with Penny as the boys play, later teaming up with Nat to take on Bob and Mickey. Dodging Seresin and his mission to get everyone blind drunk (it is an open bar, but man, show some restraint), which you think you’re doing a pretty decent job of.

You keep ‘forgetting’ your drink on the side table, or just simply handing it to Bradley as you pretend to focus on the game. Barley beating the boys, you high five Nat.

“C’mon, let's have a drink to celebrate.” She grabs your elbow and leads you to the bar.

“I’m good.” God, you never realized how hard it’s to dodge every offer of alcohol. You tug back a little, stopping Nat. “Designated driver.” You grin lightly, shrugging.

Nat cocks an eyebrow, knowing full well it’s several hours before you’ll leave. You hold your smile on your face, trying to look as neutral as possible. It’s not even a lie—you are the designated driver. But Nat is sharp. Thankfully, she’s also tactful and doesn’t push the issue.

You make your way to Bradley, who is standing at the dart board with a few others, wrapping your arms around his waist. He immediately, automatically puts his arm around, and presses a kiss on the top of your head.

After that, there is a flurry of names and faces—so many people know Bradley, knew his dad, and want to talk to him. The smile never leaves his face. You know he is loving this, he loves being around people, and he does it so well—laughing, joking, telling stories.

People gravitate to him, his genuine warmth and his light. He doesn’t always see it himself that way and uses his extraversion as a mask, but it’s really him.

“It’s good to see you, son.” An older man claps Bradley on the shoulder, before pulling him into a hug. “Taking after your old man more and more, I see.” He adds jokingly.

Bradley laughs. “I can only hope.”

You politely chat to the man’s wife—honestly, your brain is turning to mush from all the names—supplying her with details of your newlywed status.

“That’s not Carole’s ring, is it? She asks suddenly, gently grabbing your hand.

“No, we decided to keep them together.” You share a look with Bradley as you both smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back then, when he stayed in Texas for a month, Bradley had put any thoughts of marriage to rest for the time being. He knew then already: it’s not that he doesn’t want to marry you eventually—it still crosses his mind regularly—but he’s not sure if you will actually say yes right now. He doesn’t feel worthy of it. Not yet.

So he doesn’t bring it up. Neither do you.

After he comes back he has time to spend by himself with his memories, that you are lovingly and painstakingly restoring for him. While you are out for work, he flips through the pictures, trying to remember, to feel those moments again.

Some evenings he sits quietly next to you, as you pull nitrile gloves on, hair in a messy bun, and slowly, carefully go through every picture. You go through almost meditative motions as you reapply glue, precisely placing the photo on the page, humming softly.

He loves it.

It’s such an incredibly intimate affair. There are no words. There is no touching, but it’s like watching you preform surgery on his soul. For Bradley, these moments are like a vacuum in time, simultaneously without end, but also always too short.

It’s only when you stretch out, groaning involuntarily as your spine pops, it’s like the bubble burst.

Running his fingers over the tight muscles in your shoulders, Bradley jokes:

“You should work on your posture.”

You moan softly in response, eyes closed, as he works out the knots in your back.

Bradley has purposefully been avoiding the box that has the display case with his father’s funeral flag. You asked him what he wanted to do with it, but truthfully, he just shrugged, not having an answer. You regarded him carefully, like you were trying to discern what he was thinking. Ultimately, you suggest keeping it in the box for the time being with the other items, gently waylaying the decision to the future.

It stays there until after Christmas.

You spend Christmas at your parents’ place in Colorado together, and despite the numerous arguments you have with your sister, seeing you with family, being welcomed into your family, makes Bradley ache for having his own.

With you.

When you return home, Bradley’s head is once again filled with those intrusive thoughts. His gaze is trained on your hand as you play with a pen while reading, running your fingers through your hair in deep thought, wrapped around a mug of tea as you watch TV together. It looks so bare, and it’s almost offensive to him.

He should get it together and ask you to marry him. It’s been months since that seed took hold in his brain, and it has been only growing, even though he tried not to feed it. The vines have now irrevocably entangled him, and Bradley knows he can’t pull them off without tearing his soul apart in the process.

He just doesn’t feel ready. It’s like he’s been rooted in place.

If Bradley is completely honest with himself, he never particularly put much thought in marriage or family in his own life. Ironically, that has been leading him down a lonely work alcoholic path similar to Mav’s (and Bradley even had the gall to call him out on it—it’s embarrassing in hindsight). But the solution seems so simple. He’ll get his mom’s ring, ask you, and pray you will say yes.

But it’s when he finally actually sits down at your desk and opens the small items box, even the little bit of resolve he feels melts away. His mom’s ring and dad’s dog tags sit snugly together, like their last earthly possession have found their final resting place. Together, as they should be. It feels almost sacrilegious as Bradley takes the ring out, and inspects it.

It’s really quite dirty, grime stuck along the setting, the yellow gold band dull. He rolls the ring around in his palm, weighing it, trying to figure out why it doesn’t feel… right.

The center topaz glints happily in the sun—and it reminds him of his mom. Her warmth, the way she could light up a room with a single smile, and her incredibly energy. She was the sun; keeping him in orbit, on the right path.

Leaning his head on his head, he sighs. But that’s not you. You are steady and patient; a calming presence. Not a force of nature in the way his mom was, but rather a gentle guiding light.

Bradley didn’t realize how little he could actually see until you illuminated his path home, like his own personal north star. And Bradley wants more than anything to always come home to you.

He decides to mull it over as he leaves for deployment. Every time he makes port somewhere, he cannot help but stop in front of a jewelry store. Looking at the displays, he feels lost.

What would you actually like? What would actually make sense for someone who hardly wears jewelry?

Before he left, he took a quick look at your sparsely filled jewelry box—it’s mostly filled with simple silver designs. It makes him grin. You are such a practical person, even when it comes to things that are supposed to be nice.

Nothing catches his eyes for weeks—months, even. He googles, trying to come up with a better description than: something Darcy would like, something that will make her happy every time she looks at it, something she will wear every day. But nothing seems to fit.

Bradley finds himself in Portsmouth, England for a week. His fellow aviators have cottoned on and absolutely to refuse to let go of the matter. A few of the younger guys don’t understand the big deal (like, it’s all cool if it’s like a diamond, right?) while others seem to firmly on the side that it’s romantic.

To Bradley, it’s becoming torture.

It’s only the second time around, when he walks past several of the city’s jewelry stores, something finally catches his eye. He looks at the ring through the glass—a thin silver band, beset with a round light blue stone, surrounded by what he assumes are diamonds. But it looks too big, so he leaves it at that.

The next days are busy, full of preparations for departure festivities before embarking back west to Nova Scotia before returning to Virginia. The more he thinks about that fucking ring, the more he realizes that… that might actually be the perfect one. He doesn’t remember any of the other rings he’s seen, but this one stayed on his mind from the moment he saw it.

On departure day, already dressed in his Navy whites, he makes an attempt at looking dignified while dashing to the store. Please, please be open, he prays.

He practically Kramers into the store, his loafers skidding on the polished wooden floor. The poor clerk is so out of sorts he just looks at Bradley mutely, eyes wide in surprise.

“Good morning.” Bradley smiles, breathing a little too hard, trying to regain some composure. “I want to buy a ring.”

The clerk nods, before jolting into action.

“So, this is a white gold ring, with a halo design: the center stone a beautiful light blue aquamarine, beset with white diamond accent stones, which-” The clerk is doing going through his sales pitch, showing the ring from all angles in the glittering light, but Bradley really doesn’t have time. He shouldn’t even be off the boat right now.

“Sounds lovely.” He cuts in diplomatically. “Can I see it?”

Perturbed, the clerk hand him the ring. Bradley runs his finger over the gems—the setting is smooth. He likes to imagine you would wear this when working: not tearing through gloves, comfortable as you write—and the light blue is elegant and understated.

It feels so much more like you.

In the palm of his hand, the ring doesn’t look that big, but your hands are significantly smaller. Before he can start overthinking it again, Bradley decides that, hell, even if the stone is a bit large—surely it’s not that bad to show off that you are engaged?

Bradley is so lost in thought, he doesn’t really hear the clerk patter on about upselling him on similar rings, different boxes, gift wrapping—the works. Rather than to waste even more time, he just cuts to the chase.

“Do you take credit?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, commander, are you ready for tonight?” You are fixing your hair in the bathroom mirror. Bradley peeks into the bathroom, appreciating how his favored sundress is clinging to every curve of your body. He was recently promoted, and so you had taken it upon yourself to tease him a bit with his new rank. Just to get used to it a little.

“I’m all good.” His eyes rake over your body, appreciatively. “You look great, darlin’.”

You turn to him with a smile, dress twirling. Bradley is dressed casually—you’re only going to a 4th of July cook out, after all. But you can’t help but be nervous, you really don’t want to be over or underdressed.

“You sure this is okay?” You ask, hesitantly. It’s the first time you’re actually doing a thing with his work buddies, at work. And you’re his guest.

“More than okay.” He assures you. To him, it’s adorable how worried you are. But it’s also a good thing, because if you are worried about what you are wearing, maybe you’ll be less likely to clock him. Bradley is sure the anxiety is rolling off him in waves, to the point where his own voice sounds weirdly forced to him.

For weeks that little box has been going everywhere with him—in his pocket, glove compartment, locker—sometimes he almost wished you would just find it. Now he needs to find a good way to keep it on him—he can’t really ask you to keep it in your purse, but it’s too warm to wear a jacket. So he takes a risk.

“I’ll pack you a hoodie, okay, sweetheart?” He says, turning around and walking to the bedroom to grab his gray zip up hoodie. “In case you get cold later.”

He can pretend it’s the gentlemanly thing to do and hold it for you, hiding the ring in one of the pockets. He’ll have to keep an eye on it during the day, but he’ll have to keep his wits about him either way.

Because today is the day.

He is going to ask you to marry him.

Finally, he can accept that there will never be a perfect moment. The goalposts will always move, and new challenges come up on the horizon at every turn, and the darkness doesn’t disappear as easily as it came.

But you stick by him.

You stick by him through the deployments, the comms blackouts, the things he can’t talk about, the things he wants to talk about but hurt. You are the constant.

Some dark nights, when sleep is elusive, he wonders what it is he actually does for you to make you want to endure him.

On the other hand, whatever it is he’s doing, it’s working. Your face breaks into a smile when you see him, and when pulls you in for a dance in the cereal aisle, your laughter is definitely taking over your mortification, and secretly his favorite? You don’t stop singing immediately when he walks into the room, allowing him to listen before you revert to soft humming.

Your sister casually mentioned you were in choir in high school, intending to make fun of you (you threatened to stab her with a butter knife at the dinner table), but for Bradley that was… well, music to his ears.

But now he needs to get through this afternoon, the ring box practically burning a hole through the hoodie in his hand as you strap on your sandals.

Every time you catch his eye that day, talking to people, playing with one of the kids, every time you smile, it burns him a little bit more.

Finally, the sun is setting, and the first fireworks start soon.

“Let’s go for a walk.” Bradley whispers in your ear, easily whisking you away from a conversation with one of the junior officers in his wing. Your fingers thread through his immediately, as he leads you away from the noisy crowd of the party, along the shoreline away from the harbor.

“Aren’t the fireworks starting soon?” You ask, looking back quickly. You are moving away from the fireworks show, which strikes you as strange. Bradley has spent weeks talking that the fireworks show they put in Virginia Beach is absolutely amazing, and you really have to spend the 4th of July there, having a booked a hotel even before you agreed. In hindsight, that should really have been a hint.

You descend from the walkway down to the beach, the waves softly lapping at the sand the only sound around. The sun is in those final minutes before it drops behind the horizon competently, covering everything in a palette of oranges and reds like a final goodbye. The wind picks up every so slightly, causing you to shiver.

“Good thing I brought this.” Bradley jokes, although his voice sounds somewhat forced, as he slips the zipped open hoodie over your shoulders.

“Where would I be without you?” You chuckle. In your periphery you see his Bradley’s closed fist, knuckles straining, like he’s holding on to something heavy. Before you can ask, he twirls you around, resting your back to his chest, arm wrapped around your waist.

“The fireworks will come from there—and trust me, this is the absolutely best spot to see them.” In his own ears, he doesn’t sound nearly as smooth or confident as he’d like. You turn your head at him, smiling contently. The final rays of sunshine are dancing over his skin, the dark shadows brining your every movement of his muscles and illuminating his curls in a golden hue. How can you be so lucky?

Not being able to stop yourself, you pepper kisses along his jaw. Bradley kisses you back, almost absentmindedly, eyes looking away in the distance.

There is something strange about being on an empty part of the beach, so close to dark. The twilight has a foreboding feeling to it. Maybe it’s the anticipation for the show, although that feels like a too-shallow explanation for the strange twisting in your stomach. It feels like… it feels like you’re about to take an exam that you haven’t studied for—woefully under prepared and no insight about what is happening.

You lean back into Bradley, who tightens his arm around you, listening to the soft swash of the sea. When the first rocket soars into the night sky, dappling the darkness with red, white and blues, he hears you gasp softly. This is it.

His eyes travel down your delighted face, hands clasped in front of your chest, the colors of the fireworks reflecting in your eyes. You’ve never looked prettier to him.

Slowly, gently, as not to startle you from your enchantment, Bradley loosens his hold on your waist, fingers ghosting along your stomach before retracting his arm completely. When he steps back in a moment, it will be the point of no return, as you will surely notice then. He’s holding on to the ring box so tightly, it feels he’s about to crush it with his nervous energy alone.

On three, commander, he tries to spur himself into action.

He counts back to one at least ten times before pushes himself back with a little bit more force than intended, taking a clumsy step back. It’s now or never. The adrenaline coursing through his veins makes it feel like time is slowing down, allowing him to see every move with anxious clarity.

You start to turn, look of surprise on your face as the colors from the sky reflect on your skin. Your mouth is opening to say something, forehead creasing in confusion.

Not at all gracefully, certainly not with the level of control one might expect from an experienced aviator, Bradley lands on his knee in the sand before you can complete your motion. Your eyes meet, and for a second, a second that seems to stretch into infinity, nothing happens.

The flickers of colored light are the indication that time has not ground to halt completely as you stand rooted to the ground, unable to parse what is happening. There are so many thoughts running absolutely rampant through your head, you cannot find coherence.

Bradley is holding his breath—maybe he’s forgotten how to breathe—as he looks up at you. This is on him. He needs to make a move.

Finally loosening his vice-like grip on the ring box, he rests it in his palm. He rehearsed the words in his head so many times, wrote them down, rewrote them, kept them tucked in the pocket of his shirt. And now they seem to have evaporated from existence.

“I want to come home to you for the rest of my days.” He starts, his voice mercifully steady unlike his insides, which seems to have turned into jello, quaking with every heartbeat. He’s completely winging it now.

Your brain appears to finally be capable of reaction, as your hand covers your mouth, tears threatening to spill from your brilliant eyes. “I promise to take care of you as you do for me, love you -” He trails off, eyes flickering away for a moment in embarrassment. So much for rehearsal. Don’t think, just do.

“I don’t want to be without you anymore.” He concludes, voice strong. “You are the light of my life, everything make sense with you. Please, Darcy, will you marry m-”

He never gets to finish the sentence as you catapult yourself into him, arms desperately wrapping around his neck, your lips crashing into his. He falls backwards into the sand, catching you by the waist, your tears dripping on his face.

This is a good thing, right? Bradley muses. This is a good reaction. He thinks. You haven’t said anything, you didn’t even let him finish. Hell, you didn’t even wait for him to open the ring box. It’s currently in the sand, his hand blindly grasps for it, clutching it in his hand.

Maybe all that really isn’t as heavy and important as he made it out to be. Maybe all that really matters that you are happy, and he is a source of that happiness.

You break the kiss, sniffling a bit before breaking into soft laughter, the amalgamation of emotions raging within. Bradley watches it play all on your face anxiously.

“Yes.” You smile. “With every part of my being, yes.”

It’s like he can now relax and finally solidifies back into reality. Laughing, he lies back into the sand, pulling you with him in a kiss. Behind your back, he pops the ring box open and takes the ring out.

“Give me your hand.” He murmurs against your lips. Sitting up a little, you watch with bated breath as Bradley takes your hand, and tenderly slides a ring on your ring finger. Holding on to your hand, he presses a kiss to your knuckles, as if to seal the ring in place. The stones glint in the sparse light of the night, the fireworks having died down.

Bradley follows your every move carefully as you take a closer look at the ring.

“It’s beautiful.” You say breathlessly, tears prickling in your eyes again. It’s by far the nicest piece of jewelry you probably ever owned, and you don’t think you’ll ever own anything more precious. “I’m never taking it off.”

Bradley laughs, eyes filled with happiness. “That’s the idea, darlin’.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly but surely the party at the Hard Deck winds down. You are set next to Bradley at the piano, head resting on his shoulder as he plays the melody to Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here for you. It was always one of your favorite songs, something you would hum under your breath as you worked or did chores.

One day, you had been humming along exactly like that, softly singing excerpts from the lyrics to yourself as you were unpacking boxes in your new living room. It was the strangest moment, when your humming was suddenly accompanied by the soft tones of the piano, Bradley adding little flourishes to the melody.

You were stunned into silence—you had heard Bradley play before, but never this song. Did he learn it for you? Because you hummed it? And he noticed?

If you hadn’t been married already at that point, you would have married him again. A thousand times over, just for that.

So you sat down next to him, exactly as you are sitting now. You started humming again as he harmonized with you. Music is what connects Bradley to his family and memories, and you could see in his eyes that this was something he wanted—that he needed. No matter how scared you are to sound off-key (like… he’s actually good, you are generally glad to hold a note), you enjoy this moment to the fullest.

And every moment after that, when he plays that song, just for you.

“I’m ready to go when you are.” He tells you softly. You just watch his fingers deftly dance over the piano keys for a bit longer. You will never tire of watching him move so elegantly, so precisely and with so much feeling.

“I’m about ready to go home.” You nod, smiling. “But you can stay if you want? I think Nat and the others are staying longer.”

You look at the group milling around the bar still. Bradley follows your gaze but shakes his head.

“You sure?” You ask. Stationed all around the nation, hell, half the world, they don’t get together in one place that much.

“Positive.” He replies, getting up from the piano.

“Dr. Bradshaw, if I may have the honor?” He holds out his hand to help you up, that cocky half-smile gracing his lips and mirth in his eyes—he knows you a little too well how to get you hot under the collar.

You laugh, blush dusting your cheeks. “Take us home, commander Bradshaw.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[note]And that's truly it for the main story. All in all, it clocks in at about 100k words, including the existing side stories. That's officially longer than my thesis. So what's next? Side stories (one already done, coming very soon), editing (lol), some more art, and I may or may not have been thinking about a new story. As long as stays fun to do! Again. Thank you for reading my first fic in a decade. I couldn't have chosen a nicer fandom to return to—you guys make it worth it. See you at the next one!

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