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kitchenwitchtingss · 10 months

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50 KITCHEN WITCH TIPS TO MAKE YOU FEEL MORE WITCHY

(And other useful things I've learned over the years)

Hi! This is a list of dos, don'ts, tips, tricks, and other fun things that I've learned over the years. I always love finding more effective and efficient ways of doing things so if you have any cool things you'd like to add, leave them in the comments or reblog. I'd love to read it.

Anyways... On with the list ^_^

Light candles around your kitchen space (just make sure nothing flammable is near you)

Annotate your cookbooks with the correspondence of the ingredients.

Mediating is really good to calm the mind before cooking.

Cut oranges and lemons thinly, dry them, and hang them with twine around your kitchen

Need a cleansing tip? Open all your windows near your kitchen. Let some fresh air in.

Cutting sigils into apples, pie crusts, and carved potatoes.

Save lemon and orange rinds, freeze them, and then use them to clean the garbage disposal.

Make infused oils and honey: Things like garlic honey, lavender honey, herb oil, sun oil, moon oil, dandelion oil, and other different edible oils are very fun and useful to make.

Hid sigils in pages of your cookbooks and kitchen witch journals.

Add some plants! Snake plants and spider plants don't need too much light, and growing your own herbs in your kitchen is awesome too. Basil, lavender, thyme, aloe vera, rosemary, etc. are good fits. You could also add some plants that require more sunlight on the kitchen window sill. Like cacti and succulents.

Bring crystals into your kitchen space such as rose quartz, clear quartz, amethyst, or whatever you want the space's intentions to be.

I keep a small money tree on the sill, along with cacti for luck and protection.

Make a simmer Pot! Mostly because it makes the whole house smell good, easy, and fun.

Stir clockwise for best results!

Learning how to pickle things is actually pretty witchy. Plus, anyone could do it as it requires absolutely no kitchen experience. You could pickle any vegetable, even if you don't like pickles. I originally learned this after having to take shelter from a natural disaster. A person brought a bunch of stuff and taught us how to pickle things with different spices and herbs. Very fun!

Decorate your kitchen with your favorite stuff. Crystals, decor, heat mits, that cool mushroom cake stand you've been eyeing at the World Market for the past 2 weeks, cool looking curtains, sun catchers. Why stop there? Paint the walls, hang shelves full of marked-up cookbooks that are a little too well-loved and thumbed through.

Wanna be the person that has the amazing-smelling house every time people come over? Syrups take some time to simmer down, it's actually a pretty good time to leave it on the stove to simmer. Since syrups have a lot of aromatic ingredients, it acts as a really good-smelling simmer pot.

Hang up herbs to dry with twine from cabinets that are rarely used.

Invest in that new set of plates and cups.

Homemade jams, butter, sauces, and syrups are your best friend.

Crochet or knit your own dish rags, pot holders, etc.

Don't pour extremely hot things into a glass that's not Pyrex, it will break, and you will be very sad about it.

Don't cook anything while extremely upset or emotional (For safety reasons)

Make recipes you want to make, not just because you'll like the effect. Make it because you think it's tasty.

Chinese Five Spice works in place of herbs for protection and luck spells a lot of the time! It's cheaper to buy 1 spice than 4 different spices that total up to 15 dollars when you could just spend 3-4 dollars.

Take a shower before cooking (I don't know how to explain this one other than it makes you feel better)

Don't use microfiber/plastic material clothes on hot burners, it will fuse to the burner and melt. It is VERY hard to get off.

I don't know if I need to put this one but I did see someone do it so nonstick pan = wooden utensils and plastic utensils, metal pan = metal utensils. Do not use a metal spoon in a nonstick pan, please. It can make you very sick.

Keep your pets away from hot oil, open ovens, and hot pans.

You can proof bread dough in the fridge overnight if you don't have the time to bake, or want to eat fresh bread right in the morning.

Need a quick witchy meal for dinner in 12 minutes? Use premade tomato pasta sauce and doctor it up with thyme, rosemary, and garlic, for protection and distilling stagnant energies. Serve with pasta of your liking.

You can substitute Butter for Crisco/shortening, buttermilk for 1 cup of milk + 1 tbsp apple cider vinegar or lemon juice, and heavy cream for 1 cup of half and half plus 2 tbsp of butter.

Use leftover animal bones to make bone broth

Teach yourself the art of bread scoring (It's fun, and you can show it off to your loved ones!)

Collect and hoard your own and others' family recipes.

Sometimes the food doesn't have to be a spell, sometimes it just makes you feel good and you don't know why.

Listen to your favorite music in the kitchen, it makes the monotonous things like chopping veggies move faster.

Invest in a vegetable chopper if you don't like chopping vegetables.

Find a really good hot cocoa recipe and make it once a week. Master it. Just for your own happiness because hot cocoa is really good. You could also be the friend/family member that makes the best hot cocoa ever.

Focaccia Bread Lasts a very long time, and it's very easy to make!

Keep a first aid kit near where the oven is, in case of burns, cuts, or serious injuries where time is everything.

Quick Bread and no-rise loaves are simple for beginners, tasty, and take little time. They also feel very witchy to make.

Study a bit of Herbalism! It's fun and really helps better understand the herbs you're putting into your food.

While something is boiling, put your wooden spoon over the pot to minimize the chance of something boiling over.

Try a bit of coffee magick, it's simple to get into, and gives you a boost of energy to take on the day!

If you're over 21, wine-making is a very interesting way to celebrate the sabbats. Just with that, make sure you KNOW what you're doing. With anything fermented, there's always a risk if you don't store things correctly. Apple wines, strawberry wines, dandelion wines, etc. all very cool to experiment with. If you're not over 21, vinegar is a similar way to experiment.

Hang up some witchy things, sigils, photos, cool magnets, and other things that give you joy on your fridge. (Sometimes if you are lucky they have some fun magnets at five below)

If you live in the US, for some reason, there are a lot of books in the book section dedicated to witchcraft and spirituality. At least where I live. And they are all under 5 dollars!

Teas are the cheapest and easiest things you can practice being a kitchen witch.

#witches #witchy #kitchen witch #witch #magick #witches of tumblr #kitchen witch recipes #modern witch #modern witchcraft #food #witchcraft #witchblr #food blogs #witch aesthetic #witchy vibes #wicca #baby witch #beginner witch

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dev1lm4n · 1 year

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4 + 1

pairings: bodyguard!joel miller x f!reader

summary: the apocalypse didn't happen. joel shift jobs into becoming a bodyguard for a billionaire’s wife. four times joel realized he's in love and the one time he actually did something about it.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: explicit (18+), p in v, no protection, infidelity, implied domestic abuse (not by joel)

notes: this is my fav to write by far ♡ if ur a writer or loves reading, chat me up and let's be moots

Clementine hues of orange sauntered in through the slick frame of her kitchen windows, causing a layer of tinted filtering to be added throughout the boring beige paints littered all around. Everything was in honeyed tones, beautiful and soothing. He had to admit that there was something godly about your kitchen. Something he couldn’t resist.

It was much different compared to the heavy smell of paint and cement he’s smothered in back when he’s still dwelling in construction. Instead of the constant buzz of drilling and swings of hammers into wooden panels, he’s now embraced in an endless collection of Jazz. His shoes are now polished— he could even see his own beaming reflection in the shiny black. A fitted tuxedo snug against the broad of his chest— a total 180° change from his Texan classic style of flannels and denims.

Joel used to think that he’s all too ill-mannered to be participating in the posh bullshit rich families are prone to, but when he saw the ads your husband was posting out, he couldn’t possibly decline the offer. The pay was enough to get Sarah all the way through university without picking up loans and it came with barely a risk.

He was just there to follow a billionaire’s pretty little wife around, carry your bags of impulsive purchases, and drop you off to go drink martinis with your girlfriends. The gun tucked into his back pocket was merely for show. After all, his dirty scowl is usually enough to set people aside. So, he signed the contract and was tied to what he envisioned to be a snobby flashy gal.

But you were an anomaly.

You were the opposite of the few descriptive words your husband mapped you out as, which he recalled to be ‘bimbo’ and ‘a pain in the ass’. You were lovely. The kind of girl that’d bake your husband a sweet tray of apple pie in your cute little dotted blue apron. He was guilty of watching your every move. Every bend, perk, curve of your body. Because, duh, he had to make sure you weren’t harming yourself. What if you accidentally set a fire off in the stove? At least, that’s what he’s telling himself to fend upon his guilt.

“Come on. Open your mouth, Joel!” you cheered excitedly at the sight of your glistening apple pie, cut open into perfectly eight slices. As the fork pierced through the warm, flaky crust of the apple pie, the sweet aroma of cinnamon and baked apples filled the air. The crust crumbled ever so slightly as the fork lifted a generous slice, revealing the warm, gooey filling. A persuasive look keen on your face as you raised your fork forward, just a few inches away from his pursed lips.

“I don’t think I should, ma’am.”

“Why not?”

“Your husband’s coming home soon..” he trailed off, uneasy about the increasingly delicate situation.

“So? Married people can’t have friends now?”

You could closely watch his determination waver, because god did your apple pie look good even from a distance. But he shouldn’t be doing this on the job, right? Playing kitchen with you out of all people.

“We’re not friends.”

“Oh, we’re not?”

“No,” he shook his head.

Only to entertain you and play into your own rhythm of things, Joel sank his teeth into the tender apples and buttery crust, sweet flavors exploded on his tongue. The warm, rich filling oozed out of the pie and coated his palate in a heavenly blend of spices and sweetness. What made it better was the shy smile you had on your face, unmarred by what the world had to offer. Your eyes twinkle fondly, sparking what felt like fireworks in his belly.

“Good?”

He simply nodded. Joel chewed slowly, averting his gaze away from you because who knows what he might start to imagine if he’s constantly being presented that view of you.

“Mr. Waterford’s gonna like it,” he reassured.

“Wait. Joel. What does that spell out?”

You enquired, brows furrowed as you tried to make sense of the word he’d just put together on the tiled board. Your lips pursed and you tilted your head slightly to the side, as if trying to get a different perspective. It seemed that your feigned innocence managed to work wonders in your bodyguard’s head, because his brows knitted along with yours, seemingly worried that he might actually get the word incorrectly. It may have been the nth time that you toyed around with him childishly, but it’s not your fault he always had such a silly expression to share each time.

“Darling,” he read the word aloud innocently. Texas twang dripping from every syllable.

“Yes, honey?”

Joel looked away bashfully at your playful banter. You could tell he’s raking his head to find ways to try and guide the conversation back into a safe spot. To maintain professionalism, where his heart doesn’t have to race a million times per second and his palms doesn’t have to turn all clammy from a childish joke. But he’s failing. Miserably at that. He tried to muster up the courage to respond in kind, but his mind went blank, leaving him tongue-tied.

“I’m just joking. You’re not mad, are you?”

Of course, he’s not mad. He could never be angry at you even if you sometimes do the weirdest things he could ever think of, like that one time last week where you decided you should try out every single barbeque sauce available in the supermarket. You’re just too sweet to be angry at. Snow could melt if you were there beaming that same dear smile of yours, miracles could happen if it was you. Joel thought that this was his punishment. A karma for all the terrible things he did throughout his twenties, the girls he fiddled and the money he possibly swindled. It’s hard to watch you and not be able to put his hands on you. It’s unfair.

“No,” he whispered vaguely as he drew more tiles from the messy pile. Joel looked amazingly dedicated for a bodyguard who’s being forced to play Scrabble with his employer’s wife— you found it hilarious, which resulted in the delicate giggle you uttered.

“Why don’t you hang out with your actual friends, Mrs. Waterford?”

You frowned.

“First of all, never call me by his name. Second, why do you care so much about who I hang out with?” you seethed out petulantly.

Even when you’re throwing a silly tantrum, he still looked at you as if you held out the sun and the moon. As if you’re the beginning and the end, but you weren’t going to assume what might just be a figment to your foolish imaginations.

“Sorry. I just.. I don’t have to play the dutiful, elegant wife when I’m here. I don’t have to pretend like I enjoy tea times and chalky macarons.”

You hate playing dress up when you’re just there to be your husband’s little pet. Ready to serve him at your every move. It’s suffocating to pretend like you’re content with how your life turned out to be, to giggle at condescending jokes other wives make, or to let your husband degrade you in front of other members of the high society. You felt like a mannequin and you’d rather be here, comforted in your own qualms with Joel. Simple ol’ Joel from Texas who took such good care of you.

“I can’t say I understand.”

Joel chuckled, thinking back to his rather ordinary background. He didn’t think he ever had to participate in any social events unwillingly, except when his mom dragged him to church on Sundays when he was younger, but that was different. You were in another realm. Someone who’s not equal to him.

“Although, I’m glad you feel at ease with me.”

He’s so good with his words, you sometimes wonder if those sweet compliments actually meant a thing. You simmered at his encouragement.

Tonight marks the evening of the Annual Spring Ball. Joel, being the country boy that he is, didn’t have much clue regarding what significance this particular event held. Although, he guessed that it was a big thing considering the pile of dresses you’ve dumped carelessly in front of your walk-in closet. You’re always so messy. Maybe he liked that about you.

He stood aimlessly, feeling like a nervous boy waiting for his prom partner to reveal themselves. It crept from inside his stomach and the grip it had on his throat grew tighter and tighter the longer you took in that damned dressing room. You’re not even going with him to this presumptuous event. You’re going with your damn husband, so why is he getting ahead of himself?

“What do ya think?”

You came bursting out of the pale blue curtains like a ray of sunshine, cladded with a long fitted evening gown. He was convinced that black belonged to you. The gown was made of flowing, luxurious fabric that draped elegantly down the womanly curves of your hips.

He couldn’t help but take a peek down your classic plunging neckline, like a fucking pervert. A flattering scoop that showed off your delicate collarbone and décolletage. Viewing a glimpse of your soft mounds propped up by the tailored bodice had him shifting from one leg to the other. God, you looked like a goddess blessed you personally. Waterford is a lucky man having you by his side.

“Is it too much?”

“No. It’s just..”

Joel swallowed thickly. How he wished he could say how you’d stolen his heart and robbed him of common sense.

“You look beautiful. Mr. Waterford would’ve-”

“Can we not speak of my husband?”

You interrupted bitterly. He wasn’t sure if he saw it correctly, but he could see a look of solemn ghosting over your sweet features. How you suddenly stop being all chirpy and instead, settle on chewing your inner lip. Joel was worried and it took all of him not to prod into whatever it is you’re hiding behind all the kind and warm facade. He was simply your bodyguard and that’s all he’ll ever be so why impose?

“Will you help me with my pearls?”

“Of course.”

He swiftly walked over to the jewelry case he’s grown accustomed to, not because he ever had thoughts of stealing your precious belongings, more so because you’ve allowed him to enter and assist you in your bedroom way too often. He’s memorized every inch of the blush tinted room without fail, maybe because he was a good help or maybe.. because he’s undeniably infatuated in you. With much precision, he held the shiny pearls in between his rough fingers. Only to gently clasp the chain around your neck. The ghost of his fingers on your bare skin made you shudder in anticipation.

He might’ve overstepped his boundaries by tracing over the exposed skin of your back, feeling the bumps of your spinal cords as if he’s a professional harpist. His gaze settled on where you felt the most plush and smooth. How he wished he could feel more of you; was the rest of your unexposed skin this delicate? Did you like this?

A pregnant silence enveloped the both of you. A mutual understanding. You were nervous, enough that you could listen to how your heart pumped blood into your increasingly warm cheeks.

“What is this?”

He broke the sacred silence at the irregular hues blooming from beneath the velvet fabric. Blues, purples, some were still inflamed, red marring your sacred skin. You were bruised. Bad. His eyes went wide at the sight of permanent scars shaped like a long rod buried deep in your skin, the new skin much lighter than your skin tone. If he weren’t attentive, he would’ve missed the way it hid underneath the hemlines.

The worst part was you didn’t say anything. Just showcasing him the same ol’ smile as you turned.

Ever since he saw your marks, the ones you’ve tried your very best to cover and withheld from the world, you’ve avoided him more than ever. Joel Miller was specifically assigned to you. To cater to your every need and protect you from the danger you might encounter, but it’s hard to do his job properly when the danger was from within.

He’s seen the way you lock your doors in his presence, leaving him uneasy as he guarded in front of your door. He’s also noticed how you stopped baking sweet apple pies, quit picking the juicy strawberries in your garden, and were lost in your own thoughts more often than anything. Maybe you’ve had enough of playing house with the lousy bodyguard he was. Maybe he was too old, too wrinkly, and too nosy for your taste.

“Joel?”

“Yes,” he answered almost too eagerly at the pleasant call of his name. His puppy-like brown eyes peaked through the small crack of your door.

“Come in. I have a surprise for you.”

A surprise for him? Didn’t you hate him? Joel looked almost entranced at the sudden knowledge. He took a determined step into your room, your wooden door creaking close behind him. You narrowed your eyes to strengthen your vision towards his striking figure. Without shame, you took in all of him. You’ve missed him as much as you hated to admit. Joel was a crucial part to your daily life. He’s a breath of fresh air. The only thing keeping you alive when you’re caged in this mansion.

“Winter’s coming.”

“It is,” he spoke softly, out-of-breath at the sight of you in your nightgown. His pupils dilated erratically at what you’ve blessed him with.

“I knitted you and Sarah matching scarfs.”

You pulled out the most beautiful pair of scarfs out of your side table, decorated with your favorite shades of ballet pink and powder blue. It wasn’t the cleanest work out there. A few loose and uneven threads here and there, but it was the most someone has ever done to him in a very long time.

It felt sincere and heartfelt. You even knitted one for his daughter who he’d only mention briefly during your time together. Once during your weekly Scrabble game and the other time when he entertained you during a house party. He smoothed the thick fabric down, tears pricking his eyes from the emotions budding from within.

“Are you seriously crying?”

You chuckled at the sight, arms crossed in front of your chest at the sight of your tough and grouchy bodyguard tearing up over some scarf. Joel meant more to you than you could ever admit. Maybe this’ll show him that part of you, just enough that your husband would never notice and you could still play it off as an act of kindness.

“That’s so lame, Joel.”

Fact is.. you were magnetic. The sweetest thing he’s ever witnessed in his long thirty six years of life, yet you’re stuck here playing wife of Waterford. Joel wanted to be your knight in shining armor and bring you to safety where he’d cherish you all his life, but what could he do? Should he just witness you wither away into an empty shell? The thought brought up the long awaited bravado and he was already bringing you up into his arms. Wrapping you in a tight embrace where all he could feel was you and only you. The softness of your pliant body, the smell of strawberries and cinnamon, and your undeniable warmth.

“You’re not happy,” he muttered underneath his breath, brows knitted and wrinkles evident.

“I will be.”

You paused.

“I have to be.”

You reassured him, pulling away from his grasp slightly. Your longing eyes bored into him with a tinge of emotion he couldn’t quite decipher, but it all became clear when you finally kissed him. You tasted better than he could ever imagine.

“Tell me you don’t want this.”

His voice was tantalizing, the rough bristles of his scruff tickling the curve of your earlobes in a manner that made you feel small. You couldn’t really pipe up a sweet comeback to what he had to say. Not when you’re pinned face down onto your fresh floral sheets, the same one you’ve spent countless nights with your estranged husband.

The crisp fabric felt cool and smooth on your squished cheek, you could even smell the lingering notes of softener wafted through the air. Joel caged you in like some sort of feral animal. Thick muscular thighs pressing next to your own as he loomed over you.

“You’re driving me insane, darlin’. Bending over with that silly knitted dress of yours.”

He murmured out into the junction of your neck. Always so careful with you, he made sure to smooth down every inch of your pristine skin, over each and every one of your scars and marks. His fingers were electric, jolting you every time he made bare contact.

You whined a soft tone when he pulled the wool hem of your dress upwards. Leaving your perky butt exposed to the cold air with nothing on but the panties you’ve chosen specifically for him. The one with the pretty pink bow and lace rimming each side; the one you knew he’s secretly pocketed a few times.

“Fuck. Such a pretty cunt. Is this for me or for Waterford?”

You were just too good to be true. Someone so perfect like you was willing to let him have a taste of what heaven on earth was, even when your husband was downstairs mingling with the other party guests. Joel was ecstatic at the thought. His eyes twinkled with obsession as he pulled your panties aside, probing a finger into your sloppy hole. One of his fingers was swallowed whole by your throbbing cunt and all he could hear was the loud squelching noise it made. It was as if you hadn’t been filled to the brim for a very long time. What a waste.

“For you. Only for you, Joel.”

Joel couldn’t hide the smugness running deep in his expression, pulling onto each corner his mustache. The constant need to prove himself to you tipped him over the edge. He wanted to be gentle with you, to be kind and cautious, because you were his everything, but it’s harder when he’s already leaking in his boxers. Seven inch, uncut, and sensitive. His fat cock thrived at the thought of you aching beneath him.

“He didn’t fuck you well, did he? Left you all wet for me.”

He teased sweetly as he unzipped his pants eagerly, only to tug at his waistband swiftly. Joel felt the adrenaline rushing through his headspace. It might be fucked up but somehow he wanted to prove how good he is for you, how he’d let your husband barge in if it meant proving how you’re such a good fit for his girth.

At the thought, Joel leaned forward to nip at your pulse point. You whined for more. He cooed softly, making sure you were slick enough as he flicked his cock along your needy slit. His thick raspy groans were heavenly, yet sinful for you to hear. You’re married for goodness sake.

“Put it in me, Joel. Fuck me. Please. Now.”

Your incoherent begging was music to his ears, enough that he gave in to your requests. He prodded his leaking tip into your entrance. Joel was unable to hide his pleasure, lashes fluttering as he rolled his hips in one sharp movement. He had to stop immediately once he’s buried deep in your velvety walls. Knowing he’d burst if he was to continue. He let out a breathy chuckle, grounding himself with all his might.

“Joe-el!”

That’s all you could muster as you pushed your hips further back into his, babbling hopeless pleads in hopes that he’d move and solve the everlasting coiling need. Such a slut.

“I got you, darlin’”

He held you steady by the small of your hips, adding ample pressure to have you arching back nicely. Joel fulfilled his promise by sheathing himself entirely within you. Slick and sloppy, he pounded into you. You’re on cloud nine. Desperately muffling his name into your bed sheets as if it’d make a difference in the boundaries you’ve crossed on this eventful day.

The golden ring band encircling your finger taunted you whilst it glimmered underneath the dim lights: all about your failing marriage and your stupid affair. You knew this wasn’t going to last long. Hell, things could fall apart if your husband caught a whiff of Joel’s cedar cologne on you.

“Stay with me, please, darlin’”

Joel looped his tough arms over your chest, effectively straightening you upright against his firm chest. His tip probed deeper inside you at the new position, exploring places you didn’t think was possible. You couldn’t see him and you thought it might be better. For you didn’t have to remember how unbelievably hot he looked while fucking you from behind; you’d worry his name would slip in your head when Waterford finally required you to cater to his needs.

“Run away with me.”

He tried once more and you had to say, it was quite a romantic gesture to attempt when he’s twitching vulgarly inside you. There was a sense of need in his voice. He’s begging you to leave all this luxury and royalty behind for the love he had to offer. What was it.. modern times Romeo & Juliet? You let out an airy moan in response, backing up even further to fulfill your burning desire. The coily dark trim on the base of his slick cock scraped your soft skin. He’s inside you entirely. Without any barrier because god did he secretly want to pump you full of cum. Maybe he'll let you wander back onto your husband's arms with his cum still stuffed deep within you.

“I can’t.”

You shook your head, a soft gasp slipping past your lips as his grip tightened around your wrist. His nails dug out crescent shape marks into your skin uncomfortably.

“Joel. Shit. Don’t move.”

He obeyed. A small grin taking over when he witnessed the shake of your legs and how you looked heavenly even when you’re seconds away from climaxing. He relished in the way your tongue cutely darted out like a dog in heat. You’re still cute even when you’re all spread out for him.

“I love you.”

He whispered once more, voice fleeting against your ear. Joel needed to kiss you. Needed to feel your soft lips on him for what might be the last time. His nimble fingers gently guide your jaw to turn his way, wrapping you in such an emotional kiss. As if you’d wither away if he didn’t hold you down tight enough.

“Please say it back, darlin’. Please?”

And just like that, he submitted to your wishes and let the mighty dam fall apart. A soft groan you’ve never heard before mused out his parted lips. He’s filling you up so full with a taste of him to the point that it’s leaking out each side of your thighs. A white rim left behind. Tonight he thought that maybe white belonged to you as well, just like black did.

“I love you too, Joel.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller #joel miller tlou #tlou #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us imagine #joel miller smut

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thecosmosdefys · 8 months

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Soft Kitchen Moments

Pairing(s): Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F ! Reader Warnings: None Synopsis: Reader having a soft moment in the kitchen after Simon comes back from deployment.

You yawned softly as you continued to knead the pie crust, making sure to incorporate every ingredient. Simon, your husband, had come home from deployment yesterday so you had decided to make a pie whilst he was sleeping. The early morning rays seeped in through the kitchen window and shed light on your flour covered pink apron that Simon had got you a while back. It was give or take about 7 a.m and the sun had just begun to come up. You had awoken at about 5:30 in an effort to begin the long process that was making apple pie. Currently as you were making the dough the apples were steeping in the sauce you had made earlier. You heard the door creak up above where both you’re and Simon's bedroom was. A soft smile graced your face as you looked up towards the stairwell, hands steadily kneading the dough. A groggy Simon traveled down the stairwell, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Luv, what are you doing up this early???” He mumbled at you, having yet to process his surroundings. Honestly you were surprised he hadn’t felt you get up earlier that morning, but you knew he had been exhausted after coming home the night prior.

You smiled up at him as he began to sniff a little and open his eyes. “Oh darling, I know your previous deployment was rough on you… So I decided to make your favorite pie.. An apple pie.” You whispered. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. You gave him a small kiss and finally finished kneading the dough, as soon as you began to roll it out he started to pepper kisses all over your neck making you giggle. “Simonn! Stopp! You know I'm ticklish and I’m trying to get this done!” Your voice was a little breathy with laughter as you tried to wiggle out of his embrace. You could feel him smirk against your neck and he gripped you tighter before placing wet sloppy kisses all over your neck, face, and forehead. Your giggles bounced around the room, your words going unsaid as you couldn’t stop laughing. Finally when he loosened up for just a second you managed to escape. With a little stomp and a huff you glared at Simon, with no real malice of course, there was nothing but a smile behind your anger. “If you are going to distract me darling, i'll have to ban you from the kitchen momentarily.” You huffed out with hands on your waist as if to solidify your point.

Simon put his hands up in mock surrender before deciding to settle on sitting at the kitchen table, watching as you continued your work. He didn’t think you truly knew how beautiful you were to him. He watched as the sun hit your face and all he could do was stare in awe, you were stunning. There was nothing but pure concentration on your face as you made sure the crust and the filling were anything short but perfect for him. Your tongue was stuck out in concentration, one of the habits of yours that he thought was adorable.

Thirty minutes later you had finally finished and put it into the preheated oven, right as you closed it you were snatched into his arms quicker than you could say stop. He snatched you up and sat you on his lap as his arms wrapped tight around you. Simon buried his face into your chest whilst you smiled down at him and began to play with his hair. It was soft moments like these that made coming back from deployment amazing, it gave him something to look forward to. Even in his darkest moments he looked forward to coming home to you, you were his light in the darkest of tunnels, guiding him through. When he was on deployment he kept a mini water color painting you had given him. It had been created on a cold fall morning, one akin to this one, whilst he had held you in his arms. You had been messing around with paints and he decided to distract you, so you had created a small watercolor painting for him to keep as a way of getting him to leave you alone. He did end up leaving you alone, but not for very long. As he thought back to all the cold and warm mornings with you, he seemed to slip off, only to be brought back by the timer of the oven going off. He watched you in awe as you slipped off his lap, grabbed some mittens, and got the pie out of the oven with ease.

You were his, and he hoped you forever would be.

#simon riley comfort #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x gender neutral reader #ghost x reader #ghost x gn reader #gn reader #cod mw2 #simon riley fluff #simon riley x reader

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pinchofhoney · 8 months

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honey pie

dean winchester x reader

word count: 0.6k

warning: alternative ending of the fifteenth season, pure fluff

summary: Amidst autumn rain and a cozy cottage, a honey pie surprise kindles love and warmth in the perfect moment.

a/n: after ten years of being a supernatural fan, i finally decided to watch the last episodes of the final season, which i had shied away from so much, and guess what? it was an absolutely terrible idea; i'm all swollen up from the amount of tears i've spilled, and it's a bit embarrassing how i've been crying through most of the finale,, what you are about to read, is an expression of comfort addressed to myself, but i hope you will enjoy it as well

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

The soft patter of raindrops against the windowpane created a soothing melody that filled the cozy kitchen. Autumn had arrived, painting the world outside with warm hues of red and gold. Inside your not so big cottage, you stood in front of the old wooden counter, your hands dusted with flour, and a gentle smile on your face.

You had a delightful surprise in store for Dean, the rugged yet tender-hearted man who held your heart. He adored pies in all their forms, but your family's treasured honey pie recipe was something he hadn't yet experienced. The air was filled with the delightful scent of baking, and the promise of a sweet, comforting dessert hung in the air. Your apron bore little flour spots as you gently mixed the honey-infused filling, humming a gentle tune under your breath.

Your faithful companion, Miracle, lay curled up contentedly on the rug near the fireplace. His tail occasionally thumped against the floor, as if in sync with your humming. Now and then, his ears perked up, catching the delicious scents wafting from the oven.

With great care, you poured the honey filling into the awaiting pie crust, stealing a glance at Dean. Though he remained focused on his laptop screen, a subtle upward curl at the corners of his lips hinted at the warmth and love filling the kitchen.

The rain outside continued its soothing serenade, wrapping the cottage in a sense of coziness and security. You placed the pie in the oven, set the timer, and then joined your boyfriend at the table, cradling a steaming cup of tea in your hands.

Dean finally closed his laptop, stretching languidly and letting out a satisfied sigh. He turned his gaze to you, his eyes twinkling with contentment as he took in the sight of you sitting there with your tea.

“Something smells amazing in here,” he remarked, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You chuckled softly, leaning over to place a quick, affectionate kiss on his cheek. “It's a little something special I decided to whip up for dessert. Honey pie, just for you.”

Dean's eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Honey pie? You're spoiling me, aren't you?”

You shrugged with a grin. “Maybe just a little.”

Sensing the change in the atmosphere, Miracle stirred from his comfy spot by the fireplace and trotted over to join you both at the table. He nudged Dean's leg, hoping for a pat or perhaps a treat.

Dean obliged, showering Miracle with affectionate scratches behind the ears before turning his focus back to you. “I love this,” he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity and a deep sense of comfort. “These peaceful moments with you, the rain outside, and our little family here. It's all I could ever ask for.”

You couldn't help but smile, your heart swelling with love. “Me too, Dean. It's moments like these that make life truly special.”

As the rain outside continued its gentle performance, the warmth and love inside the cottage were more than enough to ward off the autumn chill. With each passing moment, your honey pie baked to perfection, filling the air with its tantalizing aroma, and your hearts swelled with the sweetness of the shared moment. It was a time of quiet contentment, where love and warmth flowed freely, enveloping you, Dean, and your cherished companion, Miracle, in a comforting embrace.

#fluff #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader #supernatural fluff #dean winchester deserved better #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester scenario #dean winchester fluff #no use of y/n #jensen ackles #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles fluff

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wingedjellyfishflight · 10 days

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Cherry Pie

The team has been in the shit for months on an extended mission. The temporary base you are all living in is downright depressing with the quickly slapped on paint over plywood and the lack of indoor plumbing among other missing luxuries. You decide that a morale boost is in order. Working behind the scenes, you manage to get your hands on some cherries, though they are a bit worse for wear from the extended trip it took to get them to the base. You eagerly turn them into a couple of pies, spending all day carefully pitting cherries, cooking them down into a delicious filling and making a crust from scratch to wrap them in. The smell is absolutely divine after months of eating rations and you set them to cool near a window.

The first sign of the attack is a spray of bullets hitting the building you are in. Luckily, no one is hurt and the men are quick to retaliate, taking up defensive positions. You grab a rifle, but you are not well trained and so you only take the shots you are sure will hit to not waste ammunition. Midway through the firefight, you hear someone swear loudly.

"Ahh, fuck! That's such a shite move, ya knobheads!" Looking over, you frown, wondering just what drew such an exclamation from the normally reserved Ghost. "Fuckers shot the pies up. On purpose. Bastards."

You see red. Not just from the ruined pies, but from your anger at it being done on purpose. Unable to consider things rationally, you suddenly start firing heavily on the enemy's position, making it near impossible for them to easily fire back. You move quickly through the building, keeping them pinned down as much as possible until you can get a clear view of a man shouting orders and out of bullets, you take him out with the only other thing you have, a paring knife stained with cherry juice that you had at your waist. This seems to immediately turn the tide as those shooting at you are suddenly left without a leader, making them easier to pick off by the others.

When all is said and done, you hurry back to the kitchen to survey your ruined pies only to see that everyone else has beaten you there and salvaged as much as possible, leaving you one perfectly sliced piece to enjoy while they eat the mangled mess carefully. They make sure to compliment your hard work, enjoying every bite as if it was the most delicious thing they have ever eaten. You don't know it, but there is also a note added to your file about the dangers of ticking you off that makes Captain Price smirk every time he sees it.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #captain john price #price cod

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roosterforme · 1 year

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The Deployment Diaries Part 6 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley needs to tell you he’s leaving again in a few weeks.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, angst, adult banter, smut

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots! Check my masterlist for the reading order!

Bradley sat on the couch for a long time. He didn't know how to tell you about this new deployment. He'd only been home for three fucking days! At this rate, he'd be lucky if you were still living here and waiting for him when he came back after this next one. Eight goddamn weeks apart seemed like too much to ask of you. "Fuck," he shouted at the wall you had painted. He'd been spoiled; other than the Uranium plant special detachment, this past deployment had been his first since last July. He didn't want to leave again. Only four weeks home with you before eight more weeks away from you didn't feel fair, but who was he supposed to take it up with? Uncle Sam?

Phoenix had called and confirmed she would be deployed with him this time. At first it felt like a silver lining, but then Bradley got even angrier. That was one less friend you'd have here while he was gone. One less person who loved you and would look out for you. His phone rang, and he felt like throwing it across the room. But then he realized it was your mom calling on facetime to help him prepare dinner for you. He'd had this planned with her since before he left on the last deployment. So he cleared his throat, put on a happy face, and headed into the kitchen. "Hey! Thanks for helping me do this," he said, propping his phone up on the counter and grabbing your apron. "I'm definitely improving, but I really want this to be edible," he told her with a laugh. "No problem, honey. She's going to love it. Now start with flour, butter and salt. And you'll need to find a rolling pin." Almost two hours later, Bradley was looking down at something that actually resembled a chicken pot pie. It was kind of lumpy, and the pie crust had his finger marks all over it where he'd had to smash it closed, but still, it looked alright. He jotted down the baking instructions, thanked your mom profusely and went out for a quick run to clear his head. After five miles, he still didn't know how to break the deployment news to you so he headed home to put dinner in the oven and take a shower. He heard your key in the front door lock just as he was pulling on clean gray sweatpants and a clean shirt. "Bradley?" you called and he jogged out to give you a hug. "Why does it smell like something is cooking?" you asked, very concerned. "Because something is cooking," he told you with a grin, pushing his fingers into your bun and messing up your hair. "I'm making you dinner." He leaned down and kissed you softly. You held his face in your hands and eyed him skeptically. "Really?" He smiled at you and pulled you flush against him. "Really. And I think it turned out okay, because your mom helped me with it." He figured now was probably the best time to tell you about the papers, but you had your arms around his neck and you were rubbing yourself against him. "I love it when you're already here when I get home from work," you whispered against his lips. "And you know how I feel about you wearing these gray sweatpants." Bradley grunted as you caressed his semi-hard cock through the fabric. For some reason, these pants drove you wild. Something about being able to see the outline of his dick when he wore them without underwear. "Did you wear them on purpose? Just for me?" you asked as you slipped your hand down inside them and cupped his balls. "Fuck, Baby Girl. Everything I do is for you." You instantly dropped to your knees in front of him, yanking down the elastic waistband as you went. You smiled up at him as his dick stood at attention for you, and when you took his length between your lips, he groaned your name. Bradley had a girlfriend who gave him head while she was in uniform in the entryway of his house. Deployment number two was looking more and more grim by the minute as you sucked on him. When he was just starting to get close, you released him with a pop in favor of licking his balls and pulling them gently into your mouth. He was already about to cum when you wrapped those pretty lips around his cock once again, and Bradley rocked into you, hitting the back of your throat. He held your head with one hand and stroked your cheek with the other, coating your mouth and throat as he loudly muttered, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." "Take me to bed, Roo." ------------------------------------------ Bradley carried you to the bedroom, called you Lieutenant multiple times as he removed your uniform, and ate your pussy before fucking you once he was hard again. Having him home was perfection. You hoped his next deployment was several months away so you could enjoy this lifestyle for a while. "Dinner should be ready in five. Go get dressed and I'll feed you," he whispered before he disappeared into the kitchen. Bradley's chicken pot pie was actually delicious, and you made a huge fuss over him as you sat on his lap at the dining room table. "Look at the carrots! You cut them all up the same size! They cook more evenly when you do that," you gushed, taking another bite. "And you seasoned it really nicely." The proud smile on your boyfriend's face had you laughing, but his brown eyes looked a little sad. "What's the matter, Roo?" He started to shake his head, and you could tell he was going to try to deny that something was bothering him. "Just tell me. You'll feel better if you do." He swallowed hard and your eyes dropped to the scar on his neck. You stroked his skin there, and he closed his eyes. He was just so handsome. "Baby Girl. I got papers in the mail today." Your fingers froze on his scar. "Papers?" you asked, but your heart was already sinking. "Yeah," he said as he nodded and met your gaze. He looked miserable, and you could feel tears prickling the backs of your eyes. "I leave the first week of April. Less than four weeks from now." A tear slid down your cheek, and Bradley tracked it with his eyes. "How long?" you whispered. He gently wiped the tear away with his thumb. "Eight weeks. Pacific Ocean. On land and on a carrier." Your lip quivered and you couldn't speak, but Bradley held you against his chest and let you cry. --------------------------------------- He knew he had to soak up as much of this domestic shit as he could, because he loved it so much. So Bradley spent his week off fixing up everything in the house so it was in perfect order for you when he was gone again. He fixed the ice maker that you had broken right before Christmas, and he planted flowers in the backyard for you to enjoy. And then every day when you got home from work, he held you so tight. On Friday, you came home from work frazzled. "We're getting some new engineers from Annapolis next month. Commander Bickel just told me about it today." Bradley hugged you and kissed your forehead as you set your work bag down and wrapped your arms around his waist. "Why is that a bad thing?" You snuggled against his chest. "It's not. It's just going to be a lot of work for me. I'm supposed to help Bickel pick one of the engineers to stay on permanently. I'm really really really hoping this means I'll get a promotion within the next year. Maybe I can just deep dive into work while you're gone. I really want to be in charge of one of the labs." Bradley kissed the top of your head. "Just give it some time. Your superiors know how good you are. And don't overdo it, okay? Working too much won't help you, Sweetheart." You looked up at him. "I'm going to have to find something to occupy myself for eight weeks." Bradley groaned. "Maybe I'll fail my eye exam and get to stay home with you and collect my pension early. Alexa, how can I fake failing an eye exam?" You burst into laughter, and Bradley lit up from the inside. He didn't really hear Alexa's response because now you were kissing him. "You wanna take a quick detour to the bedroom before dinner?" he whispered to you. "Oh, shit," you replied and checked the time. "I need to get to the pharmacy and pick up my birth control, and then I need to buy a baby shower gift for Macy before we go to the Hard Deck." "Macy from your lab?" Bradley asked. He was pretty sure he'd met her once when he brought you lunch. "Yeah, she and her wife are adopting a baby, and I want to get a good gift from the registry before it's only a bunch of ugly onesies left." Bradley didn't want to let go of you. "Can I come with you?" You nodded against his chest. "If you feed me a sandwich before we leave, then yes, you can come with me." ---------------------------------- You believed it was truly a testament to how much Bradley loved you when he agreed to let you eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the Bronco while he drove you to the pharmacy. He had the neatest car you'd ever been in, which was impressive since it was a 1971 model year. You had been nervous to drive the precious thing while he was away. The line to pickup your prescription was long, and Bradley was a little handsy. You were trying to get him to behave by giving him side-eye, but you could feel his fingers creeping under your tee shirt. He was drawing little circles on your back and smiling as you glared halfheartedly. "What do you think you're doing, Bradshaw?" you whispered when his fingertips dipped down inside the top of your jeans. "Just waiting in line," he replied with a shrug. He leaned down and kissed the side of your neck. You would have groaned if you hadn't bit your lip in time. "Waiting in line with my beautiful girlfriend." "You need to behave." His behavior wasn't much better on the way to buy a baby gift. His palm was large, heavy and warm on your thigh, and you could feel him stroking you through the fabric with his thumb. "Are you trying to make me tell you we should go home instead?" Bradley grinned as he kept his eyes on traffic. "Of course not, Sweetheart. I'm helping you with your errands. I'm making it more fun, right?" "More fun or more frustrating, I'm not exactly sure which..." Bradley chuckled as he parked. "Let's go find this baby something other than an ugly onesie." He stuck by your side the whole time, offering frequent kisses, and occasionally luring you away to look at something fun. "Check it out, airplane bedding. Can we get this for the baby?" He was holding up a cute little quilt and sheet set with a colorful airplane pattern. You laughed. "Oh, that's really cute! But it's not on their registry. Apparently they want outer space crib bedding." "Boo," Bradley said as he picked up a cute little lamp that matched the airplane bedding. You watched his large, graceful hands picking up and examining tiny baby items all over the store. Onesies looked extra tiny in his hands. And most of the strollers were too short for him to comfortably push them. "It's discrimination against tall people," he had told you. Then he kept picking up little wooden puzzles and pull-along toys, and your heart clenched, because you knew he would be a good dad. It was so obvious. All he seemed to have inside of him was love to give away, in spite of the sadness he surely still felt over having lost both of his parents so young. He turned and grinned at you. "Please get this for the baby. It's a little airplane puzzle, and the packaging says it's suitable for newborns. You can get this to go along with that lounger thing you were leaning towards." "Do you want to have kids?" you suddenly blurted out. Bradley froze with the puzzle game in his hands and stared at you with his lips slightly parted. Oh God, you really wished you hadn't said anything, because he looked like he had no idea how to respond to you practically screaming that at him. ------------------------ Bradley could not formulate a sentence in his mind, let alone speak one out loud in response to you. Did he want to have kids? Well, fuck. He'd been forcing himself not to ask you the same question the entire time you'd been in this fucking adorable store. How was he supposed to explain this to you? And now you looked like you were about to backpedal hard, so he knew his window of opportunity here was closing quickly. Tossing the toy haphazardly back onto the shelf, he closed the distance between the two of you and let his right hand rest at your waist. "I'm going to ask you the same question, but first I'm going to say that no matter what your answer is, it's not a deal breaker for me." He took a deep breath, licked his lips and asked, "Do you want to have kids, Sweetheart?" Bradley's heart was pounding, and he felt hot and sweaty. You hummed and nodded your head. "I like kids, and I always thought maybe I'd have one or two eventually, or maybe adopt if I couldn't get pregnant. But not for a few more years," you told him, and his heart literally soared. "But, it's not a deal breaker for me either, Bradley!" you were quick to add, clearly thinking he didn't want to have kids with you. Bradley was practically panting, and he wasn't sure if he could verbally make sense of what was in his mind at the moment. "Baby Girl, I want to have kids with you. I keep thinking about building a little playhouse for the backyard. Maybe a jungle gym for when they get older." He watched you smile in response, so he kept going. "I never ever thought about any of this before you. I never let myself dream that I could have the kind of life that I have with you now. But, fuck... Y/N, if I ever got you pregnant, or you told me you wanted to apply to adopt... I don't even think I can put into words how happy that would make me." You launched yourself at him and pulled him in for a kiss. Bradley let you kiss him all over his face before he backed you up hard against a display of baby formula and devoured your mouth. Your hands slid down his chest and bunched up his shirt until you were touching his abs. He released your lips and you whimpered his name. "Baby Girl," he growled. You grabbed his shoulders and pulled him tighter to you, and he pressed against your core, moaning into your mouth before you wrenched your lips away from his. "Did our conversation get you hard?" you asked, sounding shocked. But Bradley noticed you were panting now too. "Yeah," he confirmed, nodding his head. "I'm fucking hard." "Fuck, let's get out of here, Roo," you whispered, and before he knew what was happening you were literally running toward the exit doors. "But you didn't buy a gift," he said when he finally caught up with you. "I'll order one online for fuck's sake. Let's go home," you demanded. "We're gonna be the ones everyone blames when that poor kid only gets ugly onesies," Bradley told you as he grabbed you and tossed you over his shoulder. He ran across the parking lot while you laughed and squealed. He set you down gently on the passenger seat, buckled you in, and just stared at you. "Bradley, please, I'm literally squeezing my legs together!" "You're as turned on as I am," he whispered. "Yeah! I am!" "Fuck!" he said loudly enough that an elderly couple gave the Bronco a wide berth. "Get in and drive," you whined, and he quickly shut your door and sprinted around the back. The ride was silent at first, and Bradley could hear you taking deep breaths. Rush hour traffic was heavy, and he was trying to find the best shortcut to take. But all the while his brain was whirring with the thought of turning one of the extra bedrooms into a nursery. "Okay, but why exactly was that conversation so hot?" you asked him. He chanced a glance at you, but you were staring straight ahead. "I don't know, Baby Girl, but I'm still hard as a rock just thinking about it. Thinking about having a family with you." You moaned as Bradley finally turned onto your street. "I keep picturing you rocking a baby to sleep, and I'm having very strong reactions to it. You'd be such a good dad, Roo." He jerked the Bronco into the driveway, turned the engine off and unbuttoned his jeans. "Take your pants off and come here," he demanded, and you gasped as he shoved his jeans down a bit and pulled his cock out. "Now." With shaking hands, you removed your jeans and underwear. "It's not even that dark out yet," you said, sliding yourself over the console to straddle his lap. "The neighbors could see." But you were already slipping him inside your soaking wet pussy and riding him. "I don't care," he whispered before burying his nose and mouth into the side of your neck. "I don't fucking care, Baby Girl." He licked up and down along your neck, but he could tell you were already so far gone. "Oh my God, Bradley. I'm already about to come," you whined a moment later, riding him harder. "You got me there too, Sweetheart." Bradley came in your pussy as you whined and moaned so much, he was sure the neighbor's dog was barking in response to the sounds you were making. And after that, all he could think about was his storage unit. --------------------------- For the entire evening at the Hard Deck, Bradley was all over you. His hands were everywhere. If they weren't wrapped around your shoulders, they were on your ass. If he wasn't kissing your neck, he was playing with your hair. Shopping for baby stuff and getting on the same page about kids had done something to him. And you were all about it. You already knew he was the one, that was obvious. But now you were both in agreement that there would in some way, shape or form hopefully be kids in that house with you someday. You'd taken a moment on the ride to the bar to remind him that you were going to stay on birth control for now, but maybe in a couple years you'd stop. And he reminded you that he was more than happy to wait until you were ready. "You guys are acting like you're on your honeymoon," Phoenix noted with a smirk. "Yeah, what is with you two?" asked Jake. "You're way more disgusting than usual, and that's saying something." "Mind your own business, Bagman," Bradley said, but there was no heat behind it, because he was currently curling a strand of your hair around his finger. "You want me to play you a song tonight?" he asked you softly. "I'd love to play for you." You nodded, and Bradley guided you to the piano bench next to him and started playing Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac. You sang along with him when you knew the words, and when you didn't you just listened to him sing. Can you hear me calling out your name?

You know that I'm falling, and I don't know what to say.

I want to be with you everywhere. You didn't last much longer at the bar before you were on your way home. All of the urgency from earlier was gone now, but Bradley was holding your hand in his while he sang along to his Motown playlist, and you felt like you were melting. You walked slowly up the sidewalk together, and Bradley played with your hair while you unlocked the front door. Once inside, you walked toward the bedroom, and he followed. "I love you," fell from his lips maybe a hundred times as he pushed himself inside you and loved your body so well, it left you no doubt that he loved the rest of you too.

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

Thanks for reading! Part 7 is one of my favorites, and I can’t wait to post it!

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x female reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader

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yinza · 8 months

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I never draw food but uh. Maybe I should change that because this was oddly relaxing. Also I have made myself hungry.

[Image Description: A digital painting study of a homemade cranberry apple pie. It has a woven lattice crust, and the red of the cranberries is visible through the gaps. /end ID]

#sketchtember #sketchtember 2023 #pie #food #photo study #yinza's artwork #artists on tumblr #original art

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strawbxrryanime · 10 months

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apple pie - seishu inui x reader

Breadcrumbs, sweet apple filling, a mouthwatering aroma, a good pie crust. Seishu was all of those flavors combined into his love for you, that hint of an apple pie comes when he throatfucks you, fucking deep into you, gagging you with the most intriguing taste, filling up your mouth and tantalizing your taste buds. That hint, that taste whenever he fucks you in the throat, is his love for you.

His green apple eyes would stare at you, his hair swept back as he deeply thrusts into you, his gaze that promises he will never ever leave you from his sight. His rough thrusts sending shivers down your body, your throat drooling and seeping with saliva as he kept thrusting into you like this, the taste of apple pie flavor growing faster and faster, surely enough he wants you to be his, and his only.

"Y/N~ Pretty baby~" Seishu whispers in between thrusts to the throat, he was whispering sweet nothings into you, as he thrusts and thrusts. The sloppy thrusts finally got to him however, as he finally came and painted your throat with his sperm. Seishu would smirk at you, his eyes staring down at you hungrily. "Heheh, Y/N do you really think I'm done?~" You look at him, desperately. "I just started~" He smirked and chuckled.

His muscular body would grind against your pussy, as he fucks you more and more, his thrusts becoming involuntary and uncontrollable pops that would spread your insides in and out. The smell, like a bakery, a sweet and promising scent filled with care and passion. His blond hair looking down upon you as he smiles, a sense of pleasure mixed with caring. "You're so adorable Y/N~" He'd grunt out as he'd thrust more and more inside of you.

Looking at him, you see a sense of happiness, passion, and such a calm demeanor as he meanlessly thrusts more inside you. Senseless and pure, as he'd fuck more and more of you. He may be a gang member, but oh damn is he gentle. He offers you his thumb to suck on, as you clench on his cock with a grip as he thrusts more into your wet pussy. "Argh!~ Fuck Y/N~" He'd moan out, he covers his face with his other hand as he senselessly thrusts and thrusts.

He'd keep going, covering his mouth from grunting as his hips do the poundings. Pounding so sweet but picking up the pace to become rougher. "Y/N~ I'll make sure to make you feel even better~" Seishu moans out as he thrusts more harder, making you groan and grip the pillows as he whispers sweet nothings into his pounding and pulsing thrusts. His smirk gaping in as he keeps going, pounding faster and faster.

His cock slams in much more faster, being gripped by your wet walls as he grunts and groans, sliding more of his cock in and out of you. The sweet smell and the whispers and whimpering of Seishu was enough to make you squirm, as you cummed on his cock, Seishu would smirk even more. "Goodness Y/N~ That looks like a mess~" He says in between thrusts. "Don't worry, I'll treat you better~" Seishu picks up his pace, thrusting and thrusting.

Seishu begins to groan even more, as he starts to keep going faster and faster. "Y/N!~ I'M GOING TO CUM!~" Seishu screamed out, as his sperm invades your walls, cock pulsing as it pumps out more inside of you, making you moan and drool. "Ah~ Y/N~ I filled you up~" Seishu chuckled, smiling at you, as you seemed to be more than satisfied.

You offered to ride Seishu, as you fell in love with him more in an instant, jumping up and down on his length, immediately being impaled through your G-spot making you scream his name. Seishu smirked, as he played with your breasts as you ride him more and more roughly, as his legs tensed up. "FUCK Y/N!~" Seishu moaned, his body shaking and quivering more, his green eyes looking straight at you, his cock glossy from the cum in the previous positions.

Only by then, the orgasm would envelop more faster, the more you rode him the more you felt a sense of euphoria, almost like everything is floating and the only thing that matters is Seishu. "Y/N!~" Seishu's eyes rolled, you pick up the pace, slamming down on him more, his cock tightened, gripping and numb. The pleasure growing and growing, Seishu bites his lower lip as you just kept going.

"Y/N!!~" He screams for you more as you ride out your high, your G-spot being passionately pounded and impaled at the more you bounced, the more you crush his balls and make him moan. As he finally finishes inside of you, Seishu pants heavily as you quickly get off him and suck him as he lied down. The taste was irresistable.

"Haaah.. haaah...~" Seishu would moan out and whimper each time you'd go down his cock. He puts you in between his legs as he rests his feet on your head, as you began to bob your head faster. "Y/N~..." He moaned out, panting heavily as he whimpered. "Fuck!~" Seishu groaned, the taste and sensation of apple pie on your mouth, the mouthwatering smell and aroma of his body.

His foot would press on your head, pushing you down on his cock even more as he moans. "Y/N~ F-FUCK!~" Seishu would grip more of the sheets, as you bob your head down more faster, slamming your lips against his ballsack making him near his climax, sucking out his glossy cock. He finally finishes inside of you, making you swallow all of his cum as he moaned even more.

"Fuck... Y/N~" Seishu blushed, his hands are caressing your face. As his green eyes glow more for you, as he starts to fuck you in the pussy more, giving a mating press, holding your legs up as he thrusts more downwards into you. "I KNOW I SHOULD BE GENTLE BUT...~ Y/N~ F-FUCK...~" Seishu screams out as you screamed and squirted more all over his cock.

It didn't matter to him anymore, he just kept going, balls slamming in onto you as you felt near your limit. Seishu was already over his limits as he slams more into you, his cock fucking roughly in and out of your pussy as his eyes stare blankly at you, his expression filled with lust as he grits and grits. He grips on your shoulders as he kept thrusting over and over again, dick invading your walls so deeply, hitting your G-spot.

"Y/N!~ OH I LOVE IT HOW YOU SCREAM MY NAME LIKE THAT!~" Seishu would cry out, as he began to fuck you even harder, his eyes staring more into you, fucking you senseless as you moaned and screamed out his name for dear sake. His pounds kept going, faster and faster and faster, until he's reached his ultimate speed against you. Going faster and faster until he spurts into you, his cock pulsing and twitching as it pumps out more semen inside of you.

You suddenly woke up with Seishu embracing you in your bed, you're naked and leaking with cum as you try to leave, but by then Seishu grabs you by the wrist and whispers in your ear. "Ready for round two?~"

And he chuckles, kissing you roughly.

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nobodysuspectsthebutterfly · 1 year

Text

“The swan was too rich for his taste.”

Re @jaydeewis's gorgeous artwork illustrating a meal from Tyrion XII, ACOK, @daenerysoftarth wanted to know why the roast swan appeared to be unplucked.

And that's actually one of the more interesting details found in some medieval feasts! The nobles were showing off their wealth by the way they served their food-- and one of those ways was to display meats and poultry as the animals appeared in life. You see this in the classic "whole roast pig with an apple in its mouth", but it was also frequently done with fancy fowl like peacock and swan. (Birds no peasant could ever eat-- hunting swans, for example, was poaching, a criminal activity, as even wild ones belonged to the crown.)

And so GRRM has this in ASOIAF, often referring to "peacocks served in their plumage" and similar. But how was this done? Well, it was really almost taxidermy. After the bird was slaughtered, the skin was carefully removed with the feathers intact, the flesh would be roasted, and then they would put the skin back on. (Sometimes with a prop to keep the neck straight, or for the peacock tail.) Yes, putting uncooked skin on cooked meat is terrible re food safety, and, well, this is why you hear about medieval people dying from indigestion. (But what health problems didn't they have.) Still, they were so careful with the process that the display method was called "a subtlety".

Although sometimes they had a little more care re food safety, and would make the peacock or swan meat into a pie, and attach the neck/wings/tail to the pie crust. There's actually a fascinating pair of paintings from the 1600s, after the turkey was introduced to Europe (as part of the Columbian exchange, and the topic of how a New World bird ended up being called "turkey" or "india chicken" in many languages is also fascinating but not the point right now), that shows two different but almost identically presented feast tables, one with a peacock pie and the other with a turkey pie, both "served in plumage":

(both paintings by Pieter Claesz, 1627)

If you're interested in the subject, here's a few sources:

The Inn at the Crossroads, my favorite blog for ASOIAF food (and note if you like swans but don't want to eat a real bird, their cream swans are a delight. Also their recipe book is *chef's kiss*, literally.)

Foods of England

Historic Cookery

Coquinaria

Folger Shakespeare Library

And for more food, my asoiaf food tag has various artworks and metas and recipes. Enjoy!

#asoiaf #asoiaf meta #asoiaf food #valyrianscrolls #medieval history #poultry #swans #peacocks #turkeys #food #food tw

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familyvideostevie · 2 years

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extra one shots for the farmer’s market au, you say?? i know requests are closed and the fic isn’t even done yet, but if you felt inclined to write steve and r apple picking and then pie baking… i would be indebted to you

-b

you asked for this before the fic was even done but i knew i had to do it. so, here you go! hope you enjoy :)

bee girl and steve bake apple pie before thanksgiving, post-au | [1k] a no good at waiting one-shot, au masterlist __

"I just don't see how you have never baked a pie before...ever." Steve shrugs and continues to wash the apples you scavenged from the almost-bare orchard. It's the very end of the season and you've just spent a few hours in the cold collecting as much as you can carry.

"El usually does it," he tells you. "But this year she practically begged me to invite you over instead. She said she had faith that we could work it out." The soft smile on his face is so endearing you just have to kiss him. So you do -- a soft, quick peck on his cheek. He doesn't stop washing but his cheeks darken. The air has been cleared after Halloween and every day you wake up with butterflies knowing that Steve is your boyfriend. That this town is your new home.

"You're not going to make me do all the work, right?" Steve's kitchen is too small for the number of pies you're going to make -- four, apparently -- so you've taken over the kitchen of the main house. It's huge and airy, the sink boxy and deep and the cabinets painted a light green. It's a little too stylish for Hopper, you think, but El seems to make good use of it.

"Oh, because you're the pie expert?" He flicks water at you from his fingertips and you yelp. "I don't think so, honey. I am out here to prove myself." Apples washed, he properly dries his hands and steps around you to get the cookbook. The kitchen is big enough for you to have your own space but Steve sticks close, hands on your hips lightly as he moves, as if he's happy to float in your orbit. Which, you suppose, he is. He loves you.

"Okay," he says, dragging out the second syllable. "Wanna do a big batch of dough, then cut apples, then we can fill and decorate the tops?" You hum, coming to stand behind him to hook your chin over his shoulder and read the recipe for yourself. He leans back into you for just a second, sighing with what you've come to recognize as contentment.

You work together well, turning on the oven and pulling out ingredients in sync even though you don't know where anything is in the kitchen.

"Why the fuck are tablespoon and teaspoon abbreviated almost the same," he mutters. "Oh, El said she made crust for us and it's in the fridge."

You open it and find four neatly rapped balls of dough. "She did the hard stuff for us!" you cry. "Next year we have to make it ourselves." You don't realize what you've said until Steve doesn't reply. Next year. Like you're planning that far ahead.

"Okay," he says softly. When you turn to look at him he's smiling, eyes find and hands already reaching for you. "We'll do it next year." He pulls you in by your belt loops for a quick kiss, on the lips this time. It still leaves you a little dizzy.

"Don't think Hopper would want us making out in his kitchen, Steve," you mumble, eyes closed. He groans but release you, heading for the cutting board.

"Fine," he says. "But once the pies are in? All bets are off." He winks at you before he tosses a clean apple in the air and catches it. "Now, you wanna roll out the dough while I cut these?"

You make four large circles and save some to top the pies with, thin strips that you intend to weave into lattices. Steve carefully chops the apples before you both make the filling to toss them in.

It's a quiet process, but you're good at that. Much of your talking as a couple occurs in bed when you're holding each other close, or on the phone in the middle of the day, or when you're driving. When you're together you settle into the peace of enjoying each other's breathing. Sometimes it's enough to just be in the same room as someone you love.

Before you know it, you have four filled pies and all that's left is to lattice the tops. "This looks complicated," Steve says. "You sure you want me to help? I might just mess it up."

"Don't be silly, Steve," you scold gently. "Just watch me and do it at the same time. You're coordinated." He rolls his eyes at you but copies your movements as you weave, carefully lifting and placing the strands of dough. "Just like that, yeah, see? You've got it!" you tell him and he preens, mouth curled at the corner as he looks over at you through his fringe. He insists on doing the second one himself, and it's almost perfect.

"How much time do we have?" you ask. He checks the cookbook as you slide the dishes into the oven.

"50 minutes, I think. We'll keep an eye on them. It would be a bummer to burn down my own job, huh?" He starts to put the dishes you used in the sink and turns on the hot water. You move to help him, drying as he finishes scrubbing.

For just a second, you imagine doing this with Steve in a kitchen that you share. A home of your own, life together in a whole new way. Maybe for your own dinner party or just for yourselves, baking something delicious and eating it on your couch in your living room and going to your bed after. It's a nice thought.

"What're you smiling about?" he asks you, bumping your hip with his.

"Oh, nothing," you say, and he crinkles his nose at you. He won't push but you're trying to be more candid with him and though you're a little embarrassed, you tell him a version of the truth. "I just love you, is all." He blinks like he wasn't expecting it, though you've said it many times by now. Then he turns off the water and gently takes the towel you're holding to dry his own hands before he turns to face you fully.

"Well," he says, a little shy. "Maybe taste the pie first and see if that's still true." You laugh and lean into him, breathing in the smell of the apples mixed with the warmth that's all Steve.

"Love you, too," he whispers against your temple.

#steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #no good at waiting

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mycitynowdotjpeg · 29 days

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Starfish and Normal Lamron 🥺🥺

Starfish - Time Heals All Wounds

The Red House On The Shore

The sea rushed to meet the shore like long-lost lovers, waves cresting over sand as gentle as tender fingers against a cheek. The sun shone over the beach lined with a handful of homes on stilted foundations, made to withstand flood and high waves. Most were painted blue and white, though they’d been customized and changed over the years as residents had come and gone. One, though, was painted a rich red, near the far end, nestled between sand dunes that held a graveyard. The house itself had been expanded more than once, extra rooms built onto the sides closer to the cemetery than to the other houses, and additional levels bringing its total height to three storeys. The doors and windows were hung with rich tapestries of red and black and green, gold thread shining in the sun. The porch held several planter boxes lush with vegetation, providing fresh ingredients for the kitchen inside the front window. The smell of baked goods hung close to the house, permeating the air with the delightful aromas of fruits and sweets, and the crisp scent of fresh bread.

Inside, a tiefling with ruddy brown skin and a long, spaded tail worked a dough against the counter with his clawed hands, nails too thick and sharp to be quite natural. There were several odd things about him, even for one of clear Infernal heritage.

The first was that he glowed. Not all over, but his heart was like a beacon in his chest, shining golden light through his flesh, rippled with the shadows of his bones. His horns were curled with an age his face did not match: looping in ridged spirals, they rose above his head like a crown, the tips nearly grown entirely around a pair of golden rings. His legs were not that of a goat, but canine in nature, tipped with dainty black paws. He was dressed in the casual fashion of Mauelle, a loose sheer wrap tied around his waist, covering a bright red bikini bottom. His upper half was wrapped in red cloth, a baby sling holding an infant strapped to his chest.

“Prosto zakroy glaza, solntse saditsya…” The Infernal melody slipped from his lips as he rocked the baby against his chest with the motion of rolling out his dough, slow and steady. “S toboy vse budet v poryadke, teper' nikto ne smozhet prichinit' tebe vreda…” Laying the dough over a tin, he began to shape it to form a crust. “S nastupleniyem utra my s toboy budem tsely i nevredimy…”

“Normal?”

Norm looked up as a gruff voice came from the doorway. He had to stoop, to peer into the room, even the ten-foot ceilings too short for his broad horns and enormous stature.

“Voyage,” Normal said, smiling at the sight of his fiery beau, his arms cradled around a toddler tiefling girl, her riotous copper curls spilling over her face. She was angelic, her round face and orange skin like her father’s, with Normal’s intense blue eyes. “Is Cherish ready for school?” His tone was teasing, knowing his daughter was still fast asleep, not even dressed.

“I’m waking her gently,” Voyage said, looking down at the four-year-old with a sparkle in his eye. His voice was hoarse as he said, “It’s her first day. I…”

“I don’t know if I’m ready either,” Norm said softly, straightening up from the counter to hold the baby strapped to his chest closer. At nearly one year old, he was big for a tiefling baby, a hint of Voyage’s heritage already showing through his son. He was tawny in color like Voyage, too, his skin a rich tan, hindquarters like a lion’s.

“Daddy, are you cooking pie for breakfast?” Peeking around Voyage was a tiefling boy, almost eight years old. His hair was a rich brown, dressed in a blue tunic and white trousers, a brown knapsack over one shoulder with a scroll poking out of it. He had amber green eyes, looking nothing like any of his parents, but beloved as their eldest child, followed by his two sisters and youngest brother.

“I..am making a pie, yes, Gift,” Normal said with a chuckle, walking around the island in the kitchen to cup the side of Gi’s face. “It’s not for breakfast. I just…”

“He bakes when he’s nervous,” Voyage said, smiling small and fond as he gently jostled Cherish, who stretched in his arms, mumbling in baby-talk under her breath. “It’s Cher’s first day of school, remember?”

Gift nodded, but then asked, “Why does that make Daddy nervous?” Voyage arched an eyebrow at Norm as he set Cherish on the ground, her hooves clicking on the tile floor.

“You know Cherish is special,” Normal began haltingly, and Gift nodded again.

“You Wished for her,” he said seriously.

“Yes,” Normal said gently, running his hand through Gift’s hair. “It was a long journey to that Wish, Gift. I lost her once. To have a day like today…” Norm smiled, sighing as he blinked back tears. “It’s just special. I want it to go well.” Gift puffed up his chest, brown and black tabby tail bristling.

“I’ll protect her,” he declared. “Cher will always be safe with us, Daddy.”

“I’m sure you will,” Voyage said, amused and warm as Cherish yawned widely, leaning against his leg.

“School?” she asked, and Norm nodded, leaving his baking to follow his family into the den, where a human man with messy brown hair and soft white clothing was helping a six-year-old half-tiefling girl tie up her dress, her horns broad and thin like Voyage’s, her dark hair and bright eyes a striking contrast.

“Charity, Papa and I are going to walk you to the school today,” Voyage said, prompting Medwin and their daughter to look up. She tilted her head curiously, and glanced over to where Cherish was climbing the stairs, Normal walking behind her.

They ascended to the second level, Norm bending to take Cherish’s hand in his as they passed through the short hallway hung with mementos and paintings, the end of the hall bearing a grand artistic rendering of a phoenix, crimson feathers splayed over the canvas. They turned right to enter Cherish’s room, Normal letting go of her fingers to walk to the wardrobe and pull out an outfit for his daughter for the day. The baby on his chest fussed, and he soothed Courage with a kiss to his downy blonde hair.

“Daddy?”

Normal turned to see Cherish standing behind him, her face pinched with fear.

“What if…what if nobody likes me?” she whispered, and Normal’s face softened, and he crouched down to cup her face.

“You’re going to make so many friends, Cher,” Normal said softly, ocean-sapphire eyes meeting her desert-sky-colored irises. “It would be a lie to say everyone will like you, but I promise, you’ll make friends, too. And you will always have your family.” Cherish looked relieved, and reached up to wrap her arms around Norm’s neck. He embraced her, careful not to smother Courage. When they broke apart, Normal helped her get dressed, a rose-pink colored dress edged in golden thread. They descended the stairs again to meet the others in the den, Gift and Charity standing by the door with Voyage and Medwin. Norm bent to kiss each of his children, making Gift squirm and Charity giggle. He cupped Cherish’s face in his hands as he bent to kiss her forehead, smiling at her as Medwin opened the door and Voyage took the girls’ hands to lead them out of the house. Normal walked out onto the porch to watch them go, the five of them walking along the beach to the gates, where Mauelle waited.

Norm kept his eyes on a mess of coppery curls as they shrank with distance, a smile playing around his lips. Courage cooed against his chest, and Normal sighed, losing sight of Cherish and their family as they passed through the gates to the city at large. He looked down at his newest son, still smiling as he brushed his fingers over his cheek, and, intent on finishing his pie while waiting for his family to come back, turned to walk back into the red house on the shore.

#my fic #normal lamron #DND #pop

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