#(meanwhile heat up the pan)

[leahluvr]

hungry - leah williamson x reader

genre: cooking, fluff, making out

warnings: suggestive

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leah was never a cooking person, and you believe she never will be. you’re afraid that when you have kids, you’ll be the one packing their lunches everyday, which was fine with you. leah had tried to cook, but you thought it was better for you to handle the cooking and for her to do the cleaning. you would never be able to express how bad her cooking skills were.

as you stir the mixture on the stove, you hear the soft patter of feet across the wooden flooring. soon, warm, moist hands slip under your shirt and around your waist. she loosely pressed her hips against your own, her chest closing in against your back.

before you can say anything to leah, she leans down, attaching her lips to your body, kissing your neck and shoulders from behind. her damp hair drapes over your exposed collar, sending goosebumps down you spine.

intrinsically, you let out a soft moan, internally struggling to pull away from her touch.

“baby,” you shudder, attempting to push her body away with your ass, which only results in riling leah up further.

“hmm?” she ignores your complaint and continues to leave scattered kissing along your pulse line. “smells good, baby.”

“thank you, but i’m busy making you dinner, so can’t you be patient and wait just a few minutes?” you groan, letting go of the wooden spoon you had been using to stir the food in the pan. you turn around, grabbing her arms by the wrists pulling them out from under your shirt.

leah takes a deep breath in and responds.

“no,” she mumbles under her breath. she closes the gap between your mouths and grasping your head by the sides. the kissing is desperate and deep. leah is hungry for you and not for food. she pulls away for a short moment, only inches away from your lips. “you’re too cute to resist in that little apron of yours, yn.”

you snort at her explanation and give in to her antics. you scratch your nails across leah’s bare back, urging to take her shirt over her head but resisting. as you do so, she whines for more, her kisses becoming sloppier.

she slips her tongue in and around your mouth making you let out a big sigh.

as things progress, one of leah’s hands gets dangerously close to the heat between your thighs. abruptly, you’re interrupted by a high-pitched beeping sound. you squeal, causing leah to jump from the sudden noise. when you turn around, you notice the pan you had been stirring, now unattended, was smoking uncontrollably. quickly turning off the heat, you grab a random envelope that had sitting on the countertop and do your best to blow the smoke away. meanwhile, leah turns off the smoke alarm.

when leah returns she looks at you sheepishly as you glare at her with a stern expression.

“this. this is why we can never cook together,” you huff.

“how about we skip dinner? i’ll eat you out instead?” leah suggests.

you consider the option; leah always somehow manages to makes you give in.

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an: sorry it’s so short + haven’t proofread

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal wfc #lionesses

[kcrossvine-art]

hi birds of paradise and of prey! I sincerely hope your 2024 has been kind to you so far, and if it hasn't, I hope it starts being fucking nicer soon. We got eyes on it and are ready to take it out should it fail.

I'm coming to the end of my list here soon, so if anyone has ideas on what they'd like to see next, please do hit me up! Even if its just a piece of media with interesting food in it and not a specific dish you wanna see. My roommate got me a recipe book from that TikTok fantasy tavern guy, "recipes from the lucky gryphon"? So we could also take a shot at a few of those, although im not really familiar with his work. Regardless-

We will be making Stuffed Cabbage from Lord of the Rings Online today!

(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 in to this Stuffed Cabbage?” YOU MIGHT ASKYou cant kinda put whatever you want for seasonings and even the meat filling. I used ground beef but pork and lamb are also stellar candidates.

Yellow onion

Garlic

2 eggs

Ground beef

Rice

A head of cabbage

Oregano

Thyme

Red pepper flakes

Cumin

Crushed tomato

Tomato sauce

AND, “what does this Stuffed Cabbage taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKBa bawsa

Very, very filling wow

2 rolls filled me up for a meal and i made about 20-ish from one head of cabage

A bit plain tbh, the texture is great but I'd really double up on the seasonings

A blank canvas for you to impart your spice preferences onto

Reheating makes it taste almost identical to fresh

Would pair well with a hot sauce dip

could also go well with an artichoke dip

If you run out of room and need to layer the rolls, I'd try experimenting with pouring some of the crushed tomato and sauce inbetween the stacked rolls. Otherwise the ones at the bottom lack a lot of the tomato flavor. However it might make the bottoms on the rolls laying ontop soggy?

. Where rice called for, used long grain white rice

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I've never blanched anything before. Theres not much western food that calls for it, meanwhile whenever my friend from malaysia shows a dish they ate, 9 times out of 10 the vegetables are blanched. Much easier process than the fancy name might suggest- boil water and dunk the thing in until its done. Whatever 'done' may be for the thing you are cooking.

Also for the ground beef (or whichever meat you use) you don't have to cook it beforehand, but in doing two tries at making these cabbage rolls i would recommend you at least season your meat before mixing it with everything else. The meat will cook to a safe temperature inside the cabbage rolls, i just prefer the taste and texture of it when cooked twice.

I give this recipe a meandering 7/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) I want to review more horrible recipes, truly i do, so that the rating scale isnt always a 6 and above, but whenever i try something horrible its like "why the fuck would i put all the effort into making and sharing a review of this thing i Do Not Want others to eat????" yknow?? Would people be interested in roasting horrible recipes? 

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

1 yellow onion

6 cloves of garlic

2 eggs

2 lbs ground beef

1 1/2 cup cooked rice

1 large head of cabbage

28oz crushed tomato

14oz tomato sauce

Oregano

Thyme

Red pepper flakes

Cumin

Salt/pepper

Method:

Saute garlic and onion in butter over medium heat until onions are caramelized. When done, remove from heat and let cool.

Season the beef to your liking with cumin, red pepper, and salt. Very, very lightly cook the beef in the same pan used for the garlic and onions. Cook until it starts to brown, but dont let it darken. 

Beat eggs thoroughly with oregano, thyme, salt, and pepper.

Add all of the above ingredients together in a bowl with (cooked!) rice. Mix thoroughly then cover and let rest in the fridge.

Core and blanche your cabbage in boiling water, peeling them off as they become limp.

Once you've separated all the leaves, cut off any thick stems that would prevent the leaf from folding.

Put roughly 2 tablespoons of meat filling into each leaf. Fold the sides of the leaf inwards and roll it up. Place each cabbage roll seam-down into a casserole dish.

If they don't all fit in one layer, its more than okay to stack. Try not to stack more than 2 layers though.

Once you've used all the cabbage, take your can of tomatos and pour them over the rolls. Mix some oregano into the tomato sauce and pour that over the rolls as well.

Bake uncovered in the oven at 350 for about 2 hours. Dont worry if a bit of tomato on top looks burnt.

IF REHEATING LEFTOVERS: Bake 10 cabbage rolls in the oven at 320 for about 40 minutes. Reduce time for less rolls.

#cross cooks lotr #food recipes #cabbage rolls #digital art

[petermorwood]

Sunday lunch, or - since what with one thing and another we ate closer to dinnertime, it might be more of a Sunday dinch. :->

It was Moroccan-style braised lamb shanks, and it was really good; after 24 hours or marination and about three hours of slow cooking, the lamb was literally off-the-bone edge-of-the-fork tender.

Because the spicing was so complex (though NB like most North African dishes, not hot) we went for a simple accompaniment, plain couscous with a few strips of home-made preserved lemon to balance the deep, rich flavours.

I also included a dab of harissa with mine, and a couple of pickled chillis for zing.

Meat and recipe both came from Irish on-line source James Whelan.

I think this would work well in a slow-cooker.

BTW, on-line recipes like this can change with the seasons, so I'm adding it below the cut.

*****

For a more fragrant and pungent dish, the lamb can be covered in clingfilm and marinated in the fridge for up to 24 hours to allow the spices to penetrate the meat. The accompanying couscous can be jazzed up with pistachio nuts and dried fruits.

Moroccan Style Braised Lamb Shanks – Printer Friendly Download

Ingredients

4 lamb shanks, well trimmed

1 tablesp. paprika

1 teasp. each ground coriander, cumin, cinnamon and turmeric

Sea salt and cracked black pepper

2 tablesp. olive oil

1 large onion, roughly chopped

2 garlic cloves, chopped

2½ cm piece peeled fresh root ginger, chopped

450ml chicken or lamb stock

2 x 400g cans chopped tomatoes

1 tablesp. clear honey

Squeeze of lemon juice

Serve with a bowl of couscous

Serves: 4

To Cook

Cooking Time: 2¾ hours

Preheat the oven to Gas Mark 3, 160ºC (325ºF).

Heat a large frying pan.

Mix together the paprika, coriander, cumin, cinnamon, turmeric and one teaspoon of pepper in a large bowl.

Add the lamb shanks and using your hands rub in the spices.

Add a little of the olive oil to the heated pan and quickly brown off two of the spiced lamb shanks.

Transfer to a casserole dish with a lid and repeat with the remaining lamb shanks.

Meanwhile, place the onion, garlic and ginger in a food processor or mini-blender and pulse until finely minced.

Add another tablespoon of the olive oil to the pan, then add the onion mixture and sauté for 3-4 minutes until well softened and coloured from the spices left in the bottom of the frying pan.

Pour a little of the stock into the pan, stirring to combine and then tip over the lamb shanks.

Add the remaining stock with the tomatoes and honey, stirring gently until evenly combined.

Cover with the lid and cook for 2-2½ hours until the lamb shanks are meltingly tender and the meat is ready to fall off the bone.

Add a squeeze of lemon juice and season to taste.

We hope you enjoyed reading this post by Pat Whelan of James Whelan Butchers. Pat is a 5th generation butcher, cook book author and the director of  James Whelan Butchers with shops in Clonmel, the Avoca Handweavers Rathcoole and Kilmacanogue, Dunnes Stores Cornelscourt, Rathmines and Swords in Dublin. 

#food and drink #recipes #Moroccan-style braised lamb shanks

[portsinastorm]

I was rewatching In Heat (3x17) and it is insane to me that the writers actively chose to try and create a parallel between the story of a closeted gay man unsub who was killing other discreet/closeted queer men with the story of a straight (canonically until they say otherwise) woman who was hiding her one-year relationship mostly for privacy, partly due to a fear of commitment.

Like in what world were those situations parallel? For real.

And JJ does both the opening and ending quotes and the quotes are all about secrets??? And it's supposed to be satisfying that the secret is she's been dating Will all along when she literally walks up to Hotch and tells him about how the gay unsub was targeting his victims because he saw a freedom in them that he didn't have for himself??? And she was super quick to say yes when Will asked her if she wanted to break up with him???

Then right after JJ and Will kiss they pan to Emily who looks wan and not happy and just says, "I thought she'd never admit it," deadpan when she's not above being a little shit and teasing her coworkers? Meanwhile, Derek huffs out a laugh and Spencer goes for the 'duh' approach.

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #jemily #otp: blackbird and phoenix #the writers should have just done it and made JJ go for Emily #that was the best time they could have done it #other than at some point in S7

[eyesofshinigami]

For Love

Rating: T

CW: None

Tags: Established relationship, very mild sexual content, fluff, humor, a little dialogue heavy

Prompt: For @starryeyedjanai "Love is letting him put his cold hands under your shirt and only complaining a little bit"

WC: 617

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 22

Steve knows it’s coming. He wants to brace himself, even if he’s not sure exactly when it’s going to happen. It’s something he’s come to expect, so he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Just let it happen,” he whispers to himself. 

Which is exactly when Eddie chooses to slip his hands up Steve’s t-shirt. 

Steve manages to only jump a little bit. Months of being together has honed his ability to ignore the way Eddie’s freakishly cold fingers feel against his skin. It’s like his boyfriend has no ability to produce his own body heat. Even now, Steve can feel the scrape of his own sweater against his skin, and yet, Eddie’s fingers still feel like tiny icicles against his skin.

“Sorry, baby. You’re just… so warm,” Eddie says, not sounding sorry at all.

It’s a familiar song and dance. Eddie constantly shoves his cold hands (and occasionally his cold toes) up Steve’s shirt, his sweater, and sometimes even his shorts. 

“And your fingers are fucking freezing. Seriously, Ed. You’re like a corpse.” 

“Maybe when they revived me the first time, they forgot to turn that feature back on. Besides, you’re a human furnace, surely you’ve got some body heat to spare?”

Oh, he sure does. Steve’s always run hot, so there are some occasions when he really appreciates Eddie’s cold ass fingers against his skin. Like in the middle of the summer. Or when he’s sleeping and he has to throw off the blanket because he feels like he’s sweltering. He appreciates it considerably less when he’s doing something like cooking breakfast, or bending over to get the laundry. Case in point, he’s standing at the stove, trying to flip eggs with Eddie’s slowly warming fingers digging into his sides. “Is that all I’m good for, huh?”

Eddie grins, shifting to cup Steve’s pecs with his hand as he presses against the line of Steve’s back. “Not all you’re good for, no, but it is one of my favorite boyfriend package features for sure.” He gives Steve’s chest a good squeeze before his hands retreat to fold across Steve’s belly. They’re a tolerable temperature now, but they’re both enjoying the closeness. “Come on, you know you love it.”

Steve grumbles, just for show, “That’s what you think. Now, are you going to stop being a menace and let me finish making you breakfast?”

“Only if you promise me we can go back to bed after? It is No Fucks Sunday, after all. Maybe you can warm me up in other ways?” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows and somehow Steve still wants to tell him yes. 

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” Steve turns back to the stove, but Eddie doesn’t let go. “That’s your cue.”

“Never was a good drama student. I think I want to negotiate terms. How about you say fuck the eggs, we go back to bed and fuck until we can’t move anymore, then we order in?” Eddie lets his now warm fingertips trail down, fiddling with the band of Steve’s sweatpants and dipping just underneath, a nice little tease. “And look, my hands are warm now. Imagine how good they’ll feel…”

Steve is a weak, weak man. He doesn’t speak, just turns the eggs off and sets the spatula to the side. “You better be naked and lubed up by the time I get this kitchen cleaned up.”

Eddie gives him a dorky salute and speeds off towards their bedroom. Meanwhile, Steve looks down at the half-cooked eggs in the pan and can still feel the cool tingle of where Eddie touched his skin. 

The things he does for love, he thinks to himself as he scrapes the pan clean.

#les writes things #steddie #steddielovemonth

[aplaceforyourhearttorest]

Sunny Side Up 🍳 James Hetfield (18+)

Using the knife to slide the remainder of the now chopped onions to the unoccupied side of the cutting board, you bite back a grin as you hear the familiar sound of shuffling feet make their way down the short hallway and pause behind you in the kitchen.

Rough, calloused palms find purchase on your bare thighs as you subtly inch your way backward and fully into his grasp, your hair brushing against the soft cotton of your boyfriend's sleepshirt.

"Remind me why I needed to get up so early again?" James asks out tiredly, his eyes squinting against the bright glare emanating off the side of the spatula, that rested against the now heated up pan in front of you.

"Because Cliff said he'll wring you in a new one if you're late again." You answer, the amusement clear in your voice as you rub the side of your cheek against his clothed collarbone.

Humming out and resting his head on top of yours, James smiles groggily as his fingers tug on the bottom hem of the t-shirt adorning your body. "And I'm supposed to be getting ready for rehearsal, meanwhile, you're out here in one of my shirts that barely covers your ass?"

A blush makes its way to your cheeks as you feel one of his hands release the side of your shirt and come up to caress the swell of your bottom.

"Doesn't seem that fair to me, now does it?" James rasps, as his thumb makes its way under the cotton and against your goosebump-ridden flesh. You let out a shuddering breath as the coolness of his rings dig into the sensitive skin of your hip, before jumping at the sound of the oil on the stove beginning to pop.

Reaching forward to quickly turn off the stove and remove the pan from the red-hot burner, you let out a yelp as your hips are yanked back and pressed flush against his. "How about you help wake me up real quick then, hm?" James asks as his morning wood pulses against your lower back in interest, and you gasp out from the feeling.

"I don't think that's such a good idea, baby. Kirk is just down the hall in the other room." You murmur out, before your lips gape open as his hand abandons your ass and cups your clothed sex instead.

"You know that man can sleep through the dead. Besides, you're telling me you don't want this? I can feel you getting wet. You're always so ready for me to spread you wide." Heat pools in your gut as your boyfriend's index finger glides against the now dampened material covering you, and you whimper out as he thrusts against your ass.

"I don't know if I can keep quiet." You whisper out against a moan, your legs starting to feel unsteady as his finger begins to tease your clit in a repetitive motion.

"I don't need you to be quiet, doll. I need you to let me take you against this counter and make you cum, fill you up with my seed. Need to feel those tight pussy walls sucking me in again before I go."

Clenching your thighs together as you feel yourself slicken with more arousal, you shakily nod your head and readily reach forward for the counter, your eyes closing in ecstasy at the stimulation.

Hastily pulling your soaked underwear down and gripping the cotton in a tight fist to the side, James groans out loud as you prop yourself up and arch your spine enticingly. Bending down to kick off his briefs and tug his shirt over his head, James lets his instincts take over as his mind glazes over with lust at the sight before him.

A chill runs down your spine as you feel your boyfriend's hand graze against your pert ass, before it raises and smacks against the bare skin, causing you to cry out loudly in the quiet apartment.

"Please, James. Don't make me wait." You plead out, the chill in the room causing the line of slick running down your thigh to cling and solidify. James licks his lips in hunger as he watches the handprint slowly appear on your reddening skin, before grabbing his hardened dick and aligning his hips to yours and thrusting forward. You both shakily exhale in unison as his cockhead rubs against your sopping clit, and you reach down to graze your thumb against it.

"Think I'm still nice and stretched out from last night, baby. Don't even have to finger me this time." You say into the frenzied air, your gut twisting as the hand gripping your waist tightens and you hear James curse out from behind you.

"Yeah? Think I can just slide into you and breed you full, nice and easy?" Pussy fluttering emptily and clit pulsating from his words alone, you gasp out a yes, before raising your hips and guiding his throbbing dick down to your entrance.

James lets out a sigh as he sinks into you, his balls raising and tightening as his cockhead rests against the opening of your cervix. Gritting his teeth as he feels your walls tighten around him, he forces himself not to move as your shoulders tense up below him.

"I think I'm gonna come." You cry out, embarrassment flooding you as your spine begins to straighten from the force it takes to hold your orgasm back.

James lets out a disbelieving laugh as he playfully shifts his hips forward, before grunting loudly as you spasm around him erratically. Slick-lines connect his hips to your behind as you tremor through your first release, your jaw clicking as it opens harshly and wide.

James clenches his eyes shut in restraint as he feels your cum drip down his ballsack and onto the tiled floor beneath him.

"Please, doll. Let me move, I'm fucking going crazy back here. Need to fuck you loose." He begs, causing you to flutter around him in agreeance, even though you were already on the edge of overstimulation.

"Fuck me nice and loose then, baby boy. Make me sore." You whine, before grasping onto the granite and screaming out as your hips are jostled forward with his newfound vigor.

Your vision begins to swim and white out as your boyfriend slams into you from behind, his grip on the shirt you wore now gone, causing the fabric to become soaked with your slick and his precum, as it pools around the front of your thighs and around his groin.

James tuts as holds you in place, your hips trying to push themselves away as he continuously finds your sponge-like gspot. "Nuh-uh, princess. Don't try and run from me. Fucking take it like you said you would." Moans tumble and spill out from in between his spit-slick lips as he fucks himself into you with reckless abandon and desperation, his abdomen clenching with the exertion.

Folding himself over you and reaching down to find your clit, James lets out a harsh breath and grazes his teeth against your neck as you constrict against him once again.

"Need you to cum for me one more time, sweetheart. Want you to soak this cock and help me fill this loose hole for me. Can you do that?" Heating up at the breathy and condescending tone of his voice, you go to answer, but seize up as his index and middle fingers harshly rub at your swollen sex.

"Too much, it's too much." Your scream out, your legs giving away as you tighten so much around James, he has to slow down.

Encircling his arms around you, James securely holds you up in place as he slowly begins to find his pace once again.

"You're doing so good for me, baby. So, fucking good. Just give me one more." He whispers out against your neck placatingly, stomach beginning to tighten as he feels his orgasm approaching.

Head lolling forward and pussy walls contracting once again, you allow yourself to fully let go as your orgasm punches its way through you. Unable to make any sound from the force of it, you instead go limp in your boyfriend's arms and allow him to use you.

"Gonna breed you so well, baby. You're gonna swell from it, taking me like a good girl." James tightens his arms around you as he harshly slaps his hips against yours, before freezing in place. Euphoric bliss sweeps through him as his ballsack jostles upward and he fills you to the brim with his seed.

Shakily placing you back onto the ground, he carefully turns you around and bends down to place a delicate kiss to your swollen and bitten lips.

"Still with me, angel?" He asks you gently, his eyes taking in your flushed skin and gone expression.

Nodding numbly and wrapping your arms around his neck for stability, your lips stretch into an exhausted smile as he rubs gentle circles into your now sore, lower back.

"How about I make some breakfast for you instead, yeah? How do you want your eggs?" James murmurs to you as he lowers you into the nearest kitchen chair.

"Sunny side up, please." You answer him shakily, before you pause as a door opens at the end of the hall.

James' eyes widen and his lips split into a grin as his roommate and bandmate comes into view, his curls an arrayed mess and pressed against his indented forehead.

"What the hell was all of that noise?" Kirk asks, blindly making his way to sit beside you. Tensing your legs as you feel cum slowly seep out from inside of you and pool around your still shaking thighs, you instead opt out of answering and close your eyes in mortification.

Turning around to place the pan back onto the burner and turn on the stove, James huffs out a laugh under his breath and readjusts his shirt back into place.

"No idea what you're talking about, man. Anyway, how do you want your eggs?" Peeking over his shoulder, he sends you a cheeky glance. "Sunny side up?"

#metallica #metallica imagines #metallica smut #metallica x reader #james hetfield #james hetfield smut #james hetfield x reader

[ryuusea]

good morning ☀️☀️☀️❤️🍳

I also wrote a little bit, some sappy lad behavior just get married already!!!

“Liam! Ah- And your nose is cold…”

Despite that, heat prickles on the back of his neck where Liam’s lips were pressed seconds ago. His ears feel hot too.

Sherlock turns just enough, his side pressed closer into Liam’s chest, that Liam’s hand slips from his shoulder down to his elbow.

“You were sitting up in bed with the windows wide open again weren’t you.”

The other doesn’t answer, he doesn’t have to, it’s obvious; there’s the smell of a crisp breeze and morning dew radiating off of Liam; Sherlock twists around fully now. One hand presses firmly to Liam’s right cheek, lets the cold seep away into his palm. Meanwhile the touch to the other side of Liam’s face is delicate, feather-light, skimming just below the bandages while his gaze follows along to confirm the white fabric is still neatly tucked in place from helping to change them hours before.

This close, he can feel the warmth of Liam’s breath against his lips with every exhale; he searches that single red eye that stares back at him, unfaltering, yet molten with a tenderness he has yet a name for.

Sherlock leans in closer. Ah, his nose is still so cold—

“Not burnt.”

“What—“

“Not burnt,” Liam repeats, words brushing into Sherlock’s lips, “The eggs. Any way is fine, just not burnt.” A pointed nudge to his elbow to bring his attention at the stove.

“Gah!” Sherlock whips back around and flips the eggs out of the pan onto a plate before they brown any further.

The laugh and the smile pressed to the back of his neck is worth it, he’ll eat burnt eggs happily every morning in exchange for that.

#sherliam #yuukoku no moriarty #moriarty the patriot #ynm sherlock holmes #liam james moriarty #this could’ve gone two ways liam kissing or biting his neck was in a sappy mood #it was fun to tap tap think about and write a short bit about their early relationship #they’re so married weeps #the egg survived it fell back into the pan #don’t waste food #also #the egg was the eyewitness so I could draw this #comic #married lad behavior

[najia-cooks]

Hey Najia! I love this blog so much! I have a question. I find cooking pretty difficult sometimes. I'm chronically ill and also the kitchen stresses me out a bit because I'm very scatterbrained and there's knives and fire and stuff. I also fuck things up in the kitchen pretty easy. Are there any recipes on here you find particularly easy to make? That you'd recommend for when you just cannot be arsed? Hope you're having a wonderful day, I know it's your birthday 😄🎉

Thank you!

I can understand your stress—cooking can involve things that are objectively dangerous and also time-sensitive. I'd recommend:

Try recipes where you don't have to come into direct contact with the blades you use. Some Indian dals, for example, cook lentils in a sauce made from blended onion, tomato, and garlic; you could process them using a food processor or blender. A lot of things (fresh salsa, guacamole, a duqqa of garlic, chilies, and spices that you can throw in to cook with some lentils) can be prepared in a mortar and pestle, too.

I've never used one, but a vegetable chopper might help in a similar way that a food processor would, by reducing the amount of knifework that you have to do. There are a lot of recipes where a chopped onion is the only knifework required.

Also try recipes that are cooked in the oven, and not on the stovetop. Something that gets thrown into the oven on low heat to cook (like a casserole or fukharat dish) takes longer, but is more hands-off, than something that's cooked on the stove.

Do all of your prep work first. Read through the recipe and see what chopping, blending &c. needs to be done, prep each ingredient, and put it in its own little bowl. This includes anything in the ingredients list that says "1 onion, diced" or similar: do that right off the bat. If the recipe says "meanwhile" or asks you to do prep for anything while anything else is cooking, you might choose to disregard that and do all the prep first, depending on how long the cook time is and how much attention it needs (e.g., soup on a low simmer for half an hour can pretty much be left alone; anything in a frying pan cannot). This way you won't be rushing to chop anything quickly while worrying that something else is going to overcook.

Look for vegetables, like broccoli / cauliflower / romanesco and green beans, that can be broken up with your hands rather than chopped. Rip up cilantro and parsley rather than chopping them.

Admittedly "simple" is not the guiding principle of this blog, but here are some recipes that I think could be easily adapted:

Fukharat l3des: just one onion to chop. Cooked on low heat in the oven.

Fried tofu sandwich: just mixing sauces and spices. You can skip coating the tofu in cornstarch and frying it. Instead try freezing the whole block, thawing it, cutting into two or four pieces, and then marinating it in a plastic bag with your sauce overnight. Then bake the tofu for 15-20 minutes, turning once, at 350 °F (180 °C).

Roasted celery and potato soup: requires only very rough chopping; the cooking methods are baking and simmering. The fried tempering could be skipped by just adding those ingredients into the simmer earlier.

Carrot salad or chickpea salad or tapenade: you could throw all of the ingredients in a food processor.

Moroccan lentils: just an onion and tomato to grate or process.

Kashmiri lal chaman: the only thing you need to cut is tofu; the gravy is just water and spices. You could bake the tofu instead of frying it.

Black bean burgers: no chopping or frying if you omit the onion and carrot and elect to bake the finished patties.

'Chicken' and olive tajine: the marinade is blended or pounded, and there is no other prepwork to do other than chopping one onion. Everything can be simmered on low heat until cooked, so it's pretty hands-off.

Chana pulao: mostly rice, chickpeas, and spices. Some aromatic prep, but you could crush instead of chopping those.

Romanesco quiche: no knifework at all if you omit the aromatics and break aprt the romanesco with your hands.

Spanish garlic mushrooms: just crush garlic instead of slicing and buy pre-sliced mushrooms. There is frying, though.

Eggplant cooked salad: the eggplant is broiled and then spooned out. No knifework required if you use tomato puree.

Butternut squash soup: just roasting and simmering. No knifework required if you omit the aromatics and buy pre-cubed squash.

Dishes with a base of lentils, chickpeas, beans, rice, and/or noodles are great because there's no knifework that needs to be done to prepare the beans &c. themselves.

#newsreaderyaoi

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

Messy Eating

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Summary: Dean’s messy. Whenever he eats, it always falls everywhere on the table, on his chin, on his fingers… It was all fine, until it wasn't. Until that hunt with only you and him. Until jealousy and anger mixed with pie and sexual tension.

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Word count: 7202

Warning: Smut, unprotected sex, fingering, p in v, hickeys, lots of finger sucking, food play, messy eating, bit of angst, minor injury

Square filled:  finger sucking for @spnkinkbingo​

A/n: Here it is! I wrote that one a while ago but never posted it for some reason... I think I didn’t think it was good enough. But I read it again today and it’s so much better than what i do now, which is nothing cause of my writer block xD anyway, enjoy!

“You’re messy.”

It always started the same.

The day started normally. You got up, the second after Sam but before Dean. As you walked into the kitchen, the smell of coffee greeted you with a good morning from the youngest Winchester making lunch. Since you've been living with them, you've never seen Sam miss a single breakfast cooking surprise.

Around the time of your sixth sip of coffee, the bacon roasting in the pan, Dean arrived still half asleep. He poured himself a cup of coffee, complimenting the delicious smell of bacon and how his brother knew him so well, making him his favorite meal every morning.

Then he ate.

The fat from the bacon trickled down his chin as he took a too big mouthful, his tongue struggling to get it all back in his mouth. Crumbs fell on his plate like leaves in autumn, always surprising you how badly he could eat.

Since it clearly was not going to fit in his mouth by itself, Dean used his fingers, pushing the escaping food back inside.

The fat trickled down his fingers as he did so, slowly, it traced the outline of his digits to land in his palms and also between his knuckles… Like a fucking delicious porno… And that was when your day turned into a nightmare. A nightmare filled with dirty thoughts, heat mounting between your legs, wetness flooding your panties.

Dean had big hands, nothing more than normal with how tall he was. Over six feet of muscle and sheer beauty to the eyes. Sam also had big hands. But Dean’s fingers… Dean's fingers were thick, long, large and blunt and from having touched them once or twice during hunts or when you had to bandage bruised knuckles, you knew they were warm, strong and soft to the touch, yet rough from his years of work and hunting. 

And then you would start picturing them everywhere on your body, squeezing your flesh, your throat, sliding between your folds…

Fingering you…

And then you, sucking them clean- Him fucking your mouth with his fingers, taping at your tongue cirling them, praising how good of a cocksucker you’ll be when he’ll allow you to have his cock in your mouth-

“You're so messy,” you repeated, tearing your eyes from his fingers now glistening with grease under the neon lights in the kitchen. Christ, you couldn’t keep doing that, picturing every single utility of his fingers, not when Dean and Sam were in the same room! Faking a disgusted face, you hoped neither of the brothers noticed the truth behind your comment. I'm turned on by those fucking fingers, again!

It was unfair, so fucking unfair. Dean was single, you knew that very well. He really enjoyed having fun with women, that too you were sure, you had seen him leave bars more than once with a well-fitted bimbo.

And meanwhile, there was you, Y/n Y/l/n, a hunter-in-training who accompanied the Winchesters on hunts to learn and fix whatever injury they would get. Little Y/n who never left bars with anyone and always watched the dream on two bow legs leave with a different person every night.

It was so unfair when he was so close, but yet so far to you. It was unfair how you wanted him but were too shy and hesitant to do the first step, scared of rejection and how it could ruin your relationship with him.

Clearly, there was something more than friendship you felt for the green-eyed hunter. At first you thought it was only admiration and a little crush, after all, he was a very hot and beautiful man, but then… It grew up. More. And more. And recently those feelings, if you could call them that, had taken a turn… In the most uncomfortable craving way. It wasn't just that you loved the girth of his fingers or his tongues licking their lengths, or his lips wrapping around his digits… 

It was worse than that.

His hands. His fucking fingers. You would catch yourself staring at them for long periods of time now. As he cleaned his guns, washed the dishes, or passed them against his face or through his hair. You stared at his hands all the time, so much it hurt your focus during hunts.

When you couldn't watch them, you were imagining them. Alone in your room, your hands buried in your panties, fingering yourself at the thought of him. Picturing his thick fingers instead of yours as you touched yourself… So lost in that fantasy you could almost hear his growls and feel the warmth of his body against you on the bed-

And at first, masturbating while thinking about Dean managed to lower down your needs enough to be in the same room as him. Okay, looking him in the eyes was still impossible, and the first few times you were so embarrassed, like he knew, and you had to leave immediately, but your core wasn't burning up anymore in the mere presence of him. But then, it wasn't enough. Thinking about him, about his hands, about his lips… It didn’t do it anymore, it didn’t fill the need or satiate your arousal.

The worst was when he ate. It was like no one taught him table etiquette, or that he was doing it on purpose to make you fucking horny. Food would trickle down his fingers like an invitation, any sauce, grease, jelly, cream… It drove you so fucking crazy!

“Can't help it when it's that good,” Dean muttered with his mouth full, bringing you back to the present. “Delicious,” he purred, and suddenly, it was like he knew. You were sure he heard your thoughts, that’s it, Dean’s a mind reader. Because next thing he did was put his fingers in his mouth. One at a time, slowly, he sucked his fingers clean.

Dean started with his thumb. He put the larger digits in his mouth and sucked it clean, the skin glistening with saliva, an adventurous droll of spit still linking his lips to it. For the index, he did the same, but then, there was still grease left between two fingers, so he had to use his tongue… Sliding perfectly in the tight, narrow space. For the remaining fingers, he licked them up like lolipop, from the bottom to the top, humming and moaning his approval at the taste.

You were dripping. You could feel it, the warm puddle between your legs was growing intensely as he finished cleaning his hand. Melting on the chair at the fucking sight.

And when the right hand was done, he licked his lips, eyes wide with the pleasure of the taste, stared at his left hand and… started licking it.

Under the table, your legs closed together. In the useless attempt to release some tension, you rubbed them together, trying to find some friction, but when a moan almost escaped you, you knew you had to leave. “Excuse me,” you suddenly got up, not even touching your breakfast and leaving your coffee on the table. Sam looked at you questioningly, but you barely acknowledged him before you almost ran out of the kitchen.

Now in the security of your room, the door locked, you quickly stripped off your pajama pants and panties to look at the damage.

Yeah, it was a close one.

And now you were so horny, you couldn’t leave it like that. You had two choices. Rub one out, hoping you could be fast and silent enough for the Winchesters to not notice, or take a freezing shower to cool out your head.

“Y/n, dress up, Sam found a case!”

His voice alone had powers over you, even when he was saying the most normal of things. Because, again, your imagination drove the wild route, and you started to imagine him giving you orders and dirty talking to you- that mouth was made for sins after all.

“Gimme 10 minutes!” It took a couple of tries, but you could actually manage to answer without missing a single word. 

Cold shower it is.

-

That was mostly what you had to go through every day. 

It couldn’t continue like that, it was now not only uncomfortable because of your inadequate arousal, but also because jealousy was starting to break your heart. But what could you do? Tell him? No way.

10 minutes later, you were ready to go on the hunt that Sam had found. It didn't look very complicated, mysterious disappearances, all the victims had been in the same building, cold spots, most likely a ghost.

You were waiting for Sam and Dean by the car when the green-eyed hunter entered the garage, his bag on his shoulder. "Hop in sweetheart, you're riding shotgun."

A crooked smile tugged his perfect lips as his perfect arms tucked his bag into the trunk of his perfect car. "Sam will sit in the back?" You asked, opening the door to sit in front, Dean sitting next to you. Usually, for Sam’s gigantic legs, he had to be in the front and you in the back, so this was new. 

The immediate proximity with Dean gave you a heat stroke that took your breath away for a moment. Wait, how do we breathe again? Why is my heart reacting like this? It's not normal, usually I can at least breathe! Don’t look at him, you’ll look weird, you are weird, stop!

Your eyes fell on his hands on the steering wheel despite your mind just ordering your body not to look at him. His thick fingers played with the key before inserting it into the ignition. Ah, yes, to breathe, I have to inhale. Okay, I can do it. You let the air enter your lungs through your nose, but it only made things worse when his perfect scent reached your senses. Fucking perfect he smell divine.

And now his scent was already all over the habitacle.

Dean twisted the key and the engine purred its sweet melody. "No need, it's just you and me today," he simply announced. As if he had just announced a discount at the grocery store.

"What?" Your voice came out sharp and a little broken, like a seagull being strangled. Your eyes searched for him as he shifted the gear into reverse, the garage door opening behind you.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine." He patted your thigh as he said this, green eyes glancing your way slightly. Your whole body stiffened at the sight and touch of his large warm hand on your body. “You're ready for a two person hunt.”

Only one ear listened to him, and you watched with sadness his hand leave your thigh to land on the bench behind you. The hunter leaned dangerously towards you, head turned towards the back to reverse out of the garage.

“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” you muttered under your breath, looking at the bunker disappearing in the rearview mirror as he drove away.

-

“The fuck was that!”

Now in a motel room, the hunt was finally over but it was not thanks to you. It was a ghost, exactly like you suspected, but then, it wasn’t only that. They were two, twins, kids, they died horribly in that building decades ago and now, every year at their anniversary, they kill the people that entered the building the same way they died. Blocked all doors, played hide and seek with them and then…

Locked them forever in the building, slowly killing them of starvation and madness.

“You had one job, how could you screw it up that bad!!”

The bones were easy to find, but at the same time, impossible. They were both still in their hiding place, the place they died all those years ago. The moment you arrived, you and Dean split up to search the grounds, but then, because you really were not focused, you missed all the important clues that were leading you to the place you had to go.

And here you were now, sitting on a chair, a bag of ice on your head where it hit the wall, your hand stuck in a bandage where you burned yourself trying to burn the bones.

“I’m sorry,” you tried again, but Dean wasn’t having it. He had nothing, no scratch, no wound, he burned his bones easy peasy, and when he went and checked on you, it was to see you with blood on your forehead, struggling to light your matches and burning yourself with them when you noticed him.

“I thought you were ready,” the hunter groaned, his hand rubbing his eyes slowly. Your gaze followed the movement and you couldn’t help but lick your lips. Christ, Y/n, not the time!

“I’m sorry,” you tried again. “It doesn’t hurt though,” you removed the bag of ice to show him your forehead. Dean opened his beautiful green eyes and worry could be read in them like in an open book. Guilt too. He regretted coming with you on this hunt alone. And you bet he would never allow it like, ever again.

Dean reached out to you suddenly, leaving you no time to think of a proper reaction to his proximity. Big, wide hands rested on your cheek, lifting your head up, concerned eyes focusing on your forehead. Swallowing hard, you let him do, feeling one of his hands leaving your face to gently stroke your wound. A hiss left your mouth. It was sensitive. “Doesn’t hurt my ass,” Dean let go of your face, stepping back. “What happened back there? I know you can deal with ghosts just fine, and the ghosts were not even there.”

Crap. Your lie wasn’t working anymore. The ghost twins only appeared at their birthday, which was not today. 

You glanced down at your hands, playing with them nervously. Truth was, you tripped, simply, you were not focused, thinking about things and a certain person you should have not been thinking about, tripped on a plank and hit the wall face first. And when you heard Dean coming, ashamed of your clumsiness, you burned yourself trying to light the bones on fire as quickly as you could.

“I tripped and fell, that’s all,” you ended up replying, still avoiding his eyes.

“I can’t believe it!” Glancing up, you looked at him, not understanding why he was so pissed about this.

“What’s wrong with you? Why are you making a scene?” You got up, voice louder echoing in the small motel room. “I tripped, it happens! Can you let it go!”

“Let it go? Sure!” Dean exploded, anger filling his eyes and you really tried to understand why he was so pissed. “I’m letting it go, I’m going,” he took his jacket, his keys, and slammed the door on his way out.

“What the fuck?” You sat back down, putting back the bag of ice rather roughly on your head and winced. “What's wrong with him?”

-

You still had no idea why Dean was so mad. You got hurt, it happens, and the hunt went well, you burned the bones and that was it. Still, you felt like you did something wrong and didn’t like having fights with him, so you did what you thought was safe, you walked to the grocery store and bought Dean a pie. Maybe it wouldn’t be enough for him to forgive you for whatever you did, but you knew he wouldn’t be able to stay moody when he would get back if he had a pie. Dean could never be mad with a pie. 

If… He came back.

You suspected he went to a bar and would probably spend the night with another nameless chick, so you left the pie on the table with a note, saying you were going out and you were sorry. Anger and jealousy were boiling in your veins at the thought of him with another girl, but you were still wondering why he was so mad in the first place.

You decided it was time to dress up for the rare occasion of you going out and even put on some makeup, glad you brought all of those things with you this morning. The fed outfit would do the job, short, black pencil skirt with a tight white blouse.

The bar was close to the motel, and no Impala in the parking lot informed you Dean wasn’t there. Perfect. It was your turn to have some fun, you had to let him go, Dean would never be interested in you, and tonight's weird reaction only confirmed that.

After a few drinks and a few men crossing your path, you finally found the right one and were ready to leave with him for the night. It wasn’t something you did often, one night stand with strangers, especially after you drank and after a fight with Dean, but tonight, you wanted to. Be like him a little, be wild, do whatever you wanted, and the guy was handsome. Tall, short hair, brown eyes… shorter than Dean tho. And more muscular. But it wasn’t Dean you wanted.

Also the stranger’s hands… They were not like his. Big, yeah, but his fingers were longer, less thick, nails not as blunt. Probably someone working in an office, those hands never saw hard work in his life, other than holding a pen to sign some documents or lifting weights at the gym.

No, you had to stop comparing him to Dean, it wasn’t Dean you wanted.

Your high heels were starting to get uncomfortable as you walked with the stranger to his car, his name was Glenn or… Sean… Or… His name had no importance whatsoever. 

One moment, you were sure of yourself, dizzily walking to his car, but then, you were not so sure anymore and you stopped on the spot. 

“Everything okay sweetheart?”

The way he said that pet name wasn’t him. It wasn’t…. He wasn’t the man you loved. You drank tonight, but not enough to lose the last remains of your consciousness. This, this wasn’t you, sleeping all around with strangers, pretending your feelings and your attraction for the green eyed hunter didn't exist.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, starting to step back, scared he would suddenly get really mad at you for changing your mind. Men were like that, getting angry, treating women like sluts and teases for changing their minds. “I can’t…”

“Hey,” he softly said, a soft smile drawing up on his lips. “It’s okay, we don’t have to either. Don’t worry.” Even if his words seemed trustfull, you were still suspicious. Your hunter instinct kicked in, but in that outfit, there were no pockets, so you had no weapon to defend yourself. “I know how it feels.”

“What?” You frowned, your head tilting to the side as he stepped back instead of closer. 

“I came here to forget, and… And well, I don’t want this to turn bad. I had a great evening, it can end up like that,” he proposed, shrugging his shoulders.

You studied him for real. “Wow, they still exist,” you laughed, really believing him now. Truth could be seen in his eyes, you were good with reading people’s intentions. “I must confess, I had a nice time too, Steven.”

“Glenn,” he laughed, and this time, you really felt the tension leaving your shoulder. “But close enough.” Glenn walked closer to his car and then turned to you. “Let me drive you home at least?”

-

In the end, even if the bar was close by foot to the motel, you accepted Glenn’s proposition. It felt good to trust someone, not immediately jumping to the conclusion he had to be a monster or possessed or a complete dick. Glenn was nice, kind, too, and in the car you learned he was the CEO of a paper company downtown and well, things weren’t going well at his job, that was the reason he was at that bar.

The drive ended up rather quickly, and that was when you noticed the beautiful 67 car in the parking lot. “Damn it…” You cursed. You wanted to drown in the seat. 

“What’s up?” Glenn asked and you turned to him, rolling your eyes. 

“Someone I don’t really want to face is there,” you confessed, staring at your wounded hand. Glenn probably followed your gaze, because you felt him tense beside you.

“He's the one that hurt you?” You turned your head to look at him. “Saw your head,” he added, and you were sure if you didn’t stop him, he would leave his car and beat the shit out of Dean, only Dean would end up beating the shit out of Glenn.

“No! God, no,” you hastened to say. “I tripped, that’s all. I swear,” you raised your hand like a promise and laughed, but he didn’t seem really convinced. “Tell you what,” you continued, picking up a pen from your purse and then his hand to write something in his palm. His skin was so soft and warm, you really wanted to stay with him in the car more, just holding his hand. It felt… Normal. You didn’t know you wanted normal until now. Just a hand to hold on to, a body to cuddle, some warmth. “Here’s my number. Text me, I’ll have yours, does that reassure you?” You smiled.

“Yeah,” it was Glenn’s turn to smile. “Thank you, have a nice night, Y/n. Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do,” you said, and then, purely because he was the nicest guy you ever met, you leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Good night.”

You watched the car leave the motel parking lot until it got swallowed into the darkness of the night. Your phone buzzed in your purse, a sign Glenn just texted you. Good, you had his number. Maybe you could see him again one day.

You stayed outside a little bit more, standing alone in the silent parking lot, staring at the motel. Now, you had to enter the room you shared with Dean, really hoping he was alone and not screwing another chick. Actually, you hoped he was with a chick, you would have a good reason to call Glenn back and go to his place. Anything to avoid another confrontation with Dean that would end up breaking your heart.

When you entered the room, at first you saw nothing. It was pitch black. But then, a light turned on on your left and you turned your head to see Dean sitting at the table in front of the pie you got him. Talking about an entrance.

“Had fun?” 

You watched the hunter sit back against his chair, legs spread, feet tapping on the floor, arms crossed on his chest. He was still wearing the same shirt but didn’t have his plaid shirt on. Your eyes immediately stared at his biceps a bit too long. No, Y/n, you are mad at him. Stop looking at his perfection.

“Lots,” you replied, walking to your bed, ignoring his eyes burning your neck as he kept on staring at you.

“Glad you had fun with Glenn,” Dean continued and your head snapped towards him. 

“What?” You were on the verge of exploding. “You followed me? How did you-”

“Got his license number, less than a minute and I had his name, age, address. Did you know his company is falling apart?” Dean continued, green eyes burning as he kept on looking at you. “I read some very interesting stuff about the CEO sucking at his job.”

“That’s not of your fucking buisiness! I’m a fucking adult, I do the fuck I want with who I want,” you exploded finally, walking towards him. 

“He could have been a monster, Y/n, did you think of that?” Dean leaned forward, still sitting on his chair. He was lower than you since you were standing up, but you never felt smaller. Not with the way he was looking at you. Almost… Disappointed. “Or a demon, you didn’t even have holy water on you!” He gestured to your outfit with his hand. Yep. Disappointed. Disapproving your choices.

“I can take care of myself!” You groaned, walking even closer to him. One more step and you would be standing right between his legs.

“Guess not, or you wouldn’t have hurt yourself in the hunt!” He grabbed your wrist, showing you your bandaged hand.

“Will you let the hunt out of the conversation? Christ, what the fuck is wrong with you? I got hurt, get over it!” You tried to get back your hand, but his grip tightened.

“What’s wrong with me?” Dean rose up, his height swallowing you down immediately. You lifted your head, not breaking eye contact. You were fed up with his attitude. “What’s wrong with me is, I know. How you look at me, disapear in your room the moment I do something remotely sexual, like this!” Taking the hand that wasn’t holding your wrist, Dean suddenly dipped two fingers into the pie, cupping some cream from it. Showing you his now messy fingers, he put them in his mouth, sucking them slowly. Some cream stayed on the corner of his mouth and you felt yourself choking the need to reach up and clean it. “I know. I see you,” his voice was now rusty, low and dangerous. “I hear you when you touch yourself. Do you think about me? About my hands? Do you imagine my fingers instead of yours when you finger your tight little cunt?”

Your lips parted to breathe, but Dean took it as an invitation. Sugary and thick, the fingers he just put in his own mouth stroke your lower lips, inviting you to open wider. Completely under his spell, you obeyed and felt him slip his fingers in your mouth.

It had an immediate effect, you felt yourself growing weak as your tongue licked his digits even cleaner than they already were, tasting the flavor of the pie on them. Closing your lips around them, you started sucking, eyes not leaving his green gems, like two magnets, impossible to look away.

Dean tilted his head to the side and removed his fingers, a thread of saliva connecting your mouth to them. “You’re driving me fucking crazy and you have no idea how much I dreamed of this…” Leaning towards you, Dean’s face was so close you could feel his breath on your lips. Beer, the sugar of the pie, you were hungry and only a slight distance separated you from kissing him. “So… Were you picturing me, all those times I heard your little whimpers? All those times the smell of arousal lingered in your room… Meaning you just touched yourself and got off, huh? Tell me…” His hand was still holding your wrist, but the other had free access to your whole body. Even if his skin was warm, burning, even, shivers still climbed your skin whenever his fingers grazed your flesh. They ended their exploration against your neck, playing with your hair and then, circled your throat gently. “You need to use your words, sweetheart… How badly did you want your fingers to be mine?”

“So… So bad,” you whispered, chasing his lips like he was the only oxygen in the room. Heart pounding fast, you could feel the beatings between your legs where it ached to be touched. Dean groaned, not letting you kiss him yet.

“Hmmm,” he hummed, his hand leaving your throat, touching every accessible part of your body as it got lower but avoiding your breasts. “Hmm… Say please,” he muttered, green eyes locking with yours again. You could feel his fingers against your thigh, going up under your skirt, so close to your core and yet, so far.

“P-Please…” You begged, your mouth obeying his demands without your mind needing to order your body. “Please, Dean… Need you… Your fingers…”

“Where? Where do you need my fingers, sweetheart?” He was doing it on purpose, stroking the inside of your thighs and you moaned, trying to get him to touch you faster. “Nuh huh… Words.”

Reaching down, you captured his hand, guiding him towards your core, panties now drenched and hot with your arousal. “Here… On me… In me… Please…” You whimpered, your head now a mess of him. Your thoughts were a mess of his voice, face, how good he smelled, how bad your lips burned with the need to kiss him, to have everything, to have him whole. “Please, I want your fingers inside of me… Please…” You grinded on his hands, biting your lips, moaning when you felt him shiver. 

“Fuck, begging me so good… So fucking wet, all for me?” You could feel Dean’s smirk as he placed his lips on yours, finally kissing you. And like that, you let go, your free hand gripping his shirt, kissing back with everything you got. Tongue out, you licked his lower lip, Dean groaning as he opened his own mouth to let you in. For a couple of seconds, you dominated the kiss, it was messy, loud, your moans filled the room with his low growls as you kept on grinding on his hand. But you lost any rhythm when you felt him toss your panties to the side to immediately sink two fingers inside of your drenching hole.

“Oh, fuck,” you broke the kiss, trying to breathe, the sensation so perfect. You felt already full, full of him, his digits so thick inside of you. How many nights have you dreamed of those fingers inside of you, pumping your tight entrance? Way too many lost nights, trying to get off, picturing him, all of him on you, in you… A shameless moan escaped your lips, immediately swallowed by his mouth.

Once again, you tried to find your breath, it was so much, almost too much all at once, your legs shaking with the stimulation, but Dean cut down that possibility as he kissed you once again, his fingers already moving inside of you. They were going slow at first, teasing, even, almost exploring. You could feel them move inside of you, stretching your entrance, and then finding the spot that turned your moan into a high pitched whimper.

“Found it,” Dean smirked against your lips, and then, he started pistoning that spot again and again. Your visions whiten and you closed your eyes, struggling to stay up as pleasure attacked you in waves. The sound of your wetness as he moved his fingers was almost nasty, so loud, but you couldn’t hear it very well, not under all the sounds you were making. “That’s it, cum on my fingers…”

Like it was an order your body was eager to obey, you let go, your orgasm exploding between your thighs. It felt powerful, washing over your whole body, shaking as you struggled to stay up once again, and you felt something warm trickling down your legs. “Hm…” Resting your forehead on his shoulder, you moaned lazily as his fingers slowed down to a stop.

“Nuh huh, look at me,” he ordered, and even if you were still stuck in the high of your orgasm, you tilted your head back just enough to look at him. Dean had his hand up, fingers glistening with your juice and smiled as he slowly and teasingly licked his fingers clean. “Hmm… Sweet, just like I thought…”

The sight made you quiver and you swallowed, staring at every single one of his gestures. How his tongue was so pink, agile, moving languidly from bottom to top and then twisting around his digits, not missing a single spot, his chest vibrating a satisfied hum. He took his sweet time, on purpose, making your need for him stronger by the minute. And before he even finished, you freed your hand, grabbed him by the collar and pinned him to the wall, lips already stuck to his, kissing him. Hands started undressing each other until there was only flesh against flesh, hands on skin and tongue against tongue.

Once you were both naked, Dean guided you to the bed, his hands burning wherever he touched, and right now they were on your waist. You landed on the bed in a soft hmf. Your breath cut, but before you could even find it again, Dean was stealing it with his lips, kissing you again. 

“Please,” you begged, your hands lost in his hair as his face was hidden against your neck, kissing and leaving his mark on your skin. Tugging, you tried to make him look at you, but only a groan answered you. “Dean, please,” you tried again, and then you felt it. Without him even looking at you, Dean pressed his cock to your entrance and pushed in slowly, stretching you and filling you up so good your head rolled back, giving him even more access to your throat he kept on attacking. 

“So tight for me sweetheart,” Dean groaned, kissing your throat once more before looking at you.

It was a moment frozen in time. Two bodies joined, two souls staring at each other, eyes lit by desire, a fire that was almost extinct but always there, finally eating, finally living for real. And he was beautiful, Dean was beautiful, inside, out, everything about him was beautiful. You found yourself reaching up, cupping his face inside your palm, fingers brushing his scruff. It tickled your skin and you felt your heart flutter in pure love when he leaned against your touch, closing his eyes. A soft exhale brushed your face, like all the pressure of the world just left his back. 

“Dean…” It was a whisper, only his name, but how you said it, the moment you said it, it meant everything. It was everything Dean needed to hear, everything he dreamed of. It was sex, but at the same time, it was so much more. It was the hunter allowing himself some happiness, it was him allowing his needs and desires to be true, to get them, like he deserved.

Green irises met yours as he opened his eyes, looking at you like you were the most precious thing he ever saw. It made you feel special, like you belonged to him, so many unspoken words readable in only one second of staring into his eyes.

“Y/n…”

The moment he muttered your name, his lips parted, letting the groans he was holding escape his mouth. And only then did you understood that what you felt for him wasn’t only attraction or sexual desire. It was more. Maybe he felt it too, because right now, you were closer to him than you ever were. And the moment he said your name, you felt him start moving, hips rutting, his length easily slipping back and forth inside of you. You moaned, your hand gripping his neck, inciting him to lean down and kiss you, and who was he to deny you anything? Dean leaned down, capturing your lips and stealing both your breath and your moans.

At first, it was soft, but quickly, the heat and the need that was previously so strong came back with force. And quickly, he was pounding into you, fast and hard, your hands scratching his back as your head rolled back, moans of pure pleasure flooding out of your lips. Breathing fast, Dean was groaning, mumbling things like good girl, feels so good, and the few times you managed to keep your eyes open was to see him close his. And then you could admire him, truly, without any mask, pleasure flooding his beautiful face. Cheeks red with the heat and maybe the situation, he was even more beautiful.

“Fuck, so close,” you heard him groan as a rough thrust made you see some stars. He heard the change in your voice, because his thrusts changed to keep doing that. Rough, long thrusts going even deeper into your core. “Gonna cum, cum with me Y/n,” Dean instructed and then you felt it, warm and thick, his thumb asking for access to your mouth. You let it in, parting your lips, sucking on his digit and biting into it as you felt the knot in your core expanding more and more. Moans got muffled by his finger and you bit harder, eyes rolling back as you felt it come, your walls fluttering around his shaft, it got higher and higher and then, it finally snapped in a pure bliss of pleasure. 

It was so good you closed your eyes on the spot, breathing hard to get oxygen into your lungs. It was almost impossible for you to hear anymore, your ears shrilling, but you were glad to still have some hearing left to hear him as he reached his own climax.

Dean removed his finger from your mouth to place both of his hands on the bed. Rougher thrusts met your cervix, spasms of overstimulation controlling your body, and then he stilled and a long groan softly echoed in the room as you felt him spill inside of you.

“Oh… fuck…” Dean’s face dropped back against your neck, breathing in your scent, kissing the sensitive flesh of your throat. And even if his lips were burning and bruised by all the kisses you shared, pleasant shivers ran down your skin, bringing a nice, refreshing feeling. Giggling, you stroke his back softly, your fingers tracing the muscles around his spine, skin covered in sweat.

“Dean, it tickles,” you whispered. One last kiss and Dean was pulling out, laying down beside you on the bed. The two of you stared at the ceiling for a while in silence, not knowing what to say. It wasn’t awkward per say, the moment was needed to cool down, from the intense sex, yeah, but also to get back rational thoughts. 

“You asked what was wrong with me,” Dean ended up breaking the silence, and you immediately turned to your side to look at him. He was still staring at the ceiling and licked his lips. “Everything’s wrong with me,” he ended up confessing, and even if you really wanted to cut him off and deny his words, you let him continue. “When I saw you were hurt, I got angry, because it was my fault.”

“It wasn’t-” You couldn’t help it, you had to make him understand none of this was his fault, but Dean shook his head.

“It was. I knew it, for a while now, not very subtle, Y/n…” A smile stretched his lips, and if the conversation wasn’t so serious, you would have adored watching him smile. It was precious, it wasn’t often you could admire that smile. “I knew how distracting I am, can’t help it, I know I’m hot,” he joked again and you rolled your eyes. Of course, having a heart to heart conversation with Dean Winchester would always end with jokes. The hunter was never known to enjoy serious and deep conversation involving feelings, like he wasn’t allowing himself to have them. Like it was forbidden to feel things. “But… I still chose to go hunting with you, and you got hurt, and I got so mad, but not at you, at me, and then I came back and you weren’t there… And even if I was a complete jerk, you still got me a pie to apologize for something you didn’t even do, I…”

“Dean,” you tried again. Dean finally turned his head towards you, and you could see hurt shining in his eyes. Your heart sank. 

“I tracked your phone, found you at the bar. With that guy. I got angry with jealousy, so I left and came back here, and then when you weren’t leaving his car, I tracked his license number. His company failing isn’t his fault. Steven is mister perfect nice guy. ”

“Glenn,” you couldn’t help but correct. Dean rolled his eyes, a glint of jealousy still shining in his eyes at the mention of him. You knew how Dean could be possessive sometimes, of his car, for example, but being jealous of a perfect stranger… It was hiding something deeper than that. You don’t get jealous of people without any feelings. “So…” You changed the subject, really hating to see so much pain in his eyes. “Not only did you know how I felt, you enjoyed it, you enjoyed torturing me.”

Dean turned completely towards you, frowning. “That’s all you get from this conversation?”

“What I get,” you got closer and watched his Adam apple bob up and down in nervousness. “Is that you knew, and on purpose, tortured me with your damn hands.”

“I mean, yeah, but,” Dean trailed off, wide eyes clearly confused as to where the conversation was going.

“Dean, I’m usually really good at reading people. And when… When we…” You searched for your words, heat invading your face as the thought of it. “Had sex, I saw it. What I get is, you don’t allow yourself to feel. I know you think you can’t be loved, that you’re the wrong in what’s wrong. But it’s not true.” You got even closer, now completely invading his personal space. “What I get is, I… I have feelings for you. But now, I need to know, do you have feelings for me too?”

There was another silence. It wasn’t long, the time of two hearts synchronizing with the other as realization hit. And in those couple of seconds, you could see every emotion going through him by simply looking in his eyes. It was a whole book, a complete story of how he felt, from doubt, sadness, anger, understanding. 

Love.

“I do, I think… I think I love you…” He finally said, and this time, the smile that stretched his lips was true and you welcomed it with great joy. Softly, you placed your hand on his cheek, stroking his skin with your fingers. “But you’re really bad at reading people,” his smile turned into a smirk and you frowned. “Cause you never understood I was doing it on purpose.”

“Oh, I’ll get my revenge just fine,” you grinned, your thumb slowly stroking his lower lip. “You can count on that.”

“I’d like to see you try… But first, can we huh…” Tongue poking out of his mouth, Dean licked his lips, purposely touching your thumb. Arousal poked you between your legs, suddenly really awake and aware of the proximity of the naked man in the bed with you.

“Hm?” You trailed, your attention focused on what he was doing with his mouth.

“Eat the pie? Cause it’s there and I’m hungry,” he casually said, but again, you could see all the mischief glowing in his eyes.

“You want to eat it with your hands, right.”

“Oh yeah,” Dean was already up, bouncing towards the table. “So you can lick my fingers clean after.”

“I hate you,” you sat up, looking at him now sitting at the table in all of his naked glory. Gosh, he was so beautiful, it was unfair. Shining with happiness and love. Starting to allow himself to feel.

“No you don’t.”

And like that, with the nastiest and hottest expression on his face, Dean dipped his thick fingers inside of the pie. It shouldn’t be turning you on so bad. But yet, it did.

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245​​​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​​​ @eevvvaa​​​ @wickedinspirations​​​ @fictional-affairs​​​ @awkward-and-indecisive​​​ @cryptichobbit​​​

Supernatural Tag List: @cryptichobbit​​ @sexyvixen7​ @stixnstripesworld​ @charred-angelwings​ @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​​ @lyarr24​​ @fiftyshadesgrl​​

Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278​​​ @siospins2​​​ @kazsrm67​​​ @wtrpxrks​​​ @deanwanddamons​​​ @thoughts-and-funnies​​​ @charred-angelwings​​​ @jensendreamland​​​ @deanswaywardgirl​​​ @happyt0exist​​​ @waynes-multiverse​

#spn kink bingo #dean x female!reader #supernatural #supernatural dean #supernatural dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural dean winchester smut #supernatural dean winchester x reader smut #supernatural dean winchester x you #supernatural dean winchester x reader fanfiction #supernatural dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader smut #supernatural dean x reader smut #dean x f!reader #dean winchester x f!reader smut #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fanfiction smut #finger sucking

[cleolinda]

I am so fucking pissed. We’re hearing forecasts that we might get FIVE FUCKING INCHES OF SNOW overnight from Monday to Tuesday. In ALABAMA, where we have no snow removal equipment. Like I think we got one bag of sand for the whole town. No snow tires, I don’t even know what those are. This isn’t cute “Haha it’s just barely below freezing! Snowball fight!!!” snow. This is 14° Fuck (-11° Come the Fuck On) snow. FIVE INCHES? We get flurries and the city descends into madness.

What if we lose POWER. Everything runs off USB cord stuck in the outlet charging nowadays. This is why everyone used to run out and buy Milk Bread Batteries. Listen. I have this memory of the power going out during this wild snowstorm when I was a kid--I want to say it was Winter Storm '93. Ask anyone who lived in Alabama at the time. Like we had Desert Storm '92 the military operation one year and Winter Storm '93 the next. It was that serious in our minds, and I'm not sure you can blame us:

The storm dumped several inches of snow each hour on Birmingham, which ended up with officially 13 inches of snow.

Due to the high winds some parts of Birmingham reported drifts 5 to 6 feet deep. One state trooper reported that the roads were in the worst shape he had ever seen. "People can't tell what's road and what's not."

Low temperatures during the storm were in the 5-to-10 degree range on that Sunday.

IN A TOWN WHERE WE DON'T KNOW WHAT A SNOW PLOW IS. I think we had one for the entire county. Like I'm only kind of joking here.

And our power went out.

The snow was so heavy that it pulled down power lines either by its own weight, or by the tree branches its weight broke off. Meanwhile, the power at my house already went off every time a squirrel sneezed. I don't how many days this lasted; it was probably like, 2-3 days, but in my head, I was 14 years old boxed up with my family with no heat and it lasted two weeks. Maybe three years. The four of us slept in sleeping bags layered with quilts, huddled on the floor around a wood burning fire. (In the haunted house, no less.) The carpet was really nice, at least. We had a--do people still call them boomboxes? A big portable cassette player--battery-powered--with AM/FM radio. We listened to whatever TV shows were broadcast from the ABC station at night. We did have hot water; I took a lot of hot baths. We cooked food over the outdoor grill (which we moved to the comfortably large area under the deck, to hold off the falling snow), sometimes using aluminum foil as a kind of thin impromptu frying pan, and kept perishables like milk and meat in a cooler. Oh, did we have a bag of ice for the cooler? No, we used snow. God knows there was enough of it. Of course, I'm sure the refrigerator was perfectly serviceable even without power, because it was TEN DEGREES FUCK ALL.

I remember going outside a good bit and playing, as much as a teenager plays, in the snow with my seven-year-old sister. I remember that all the neighborhood kids got big rubber trashcan lids and used them as toboggans, going up to the top of the hill on our street and pretty successfully sledding down. Maybe it was "lmao snowball fight!!" snow when I was 14. I'm 45 now, and the cold makes me hurt. It makes me hurt all over. Maybe Winter Storm '24 will be a fun core memory for my nephew. I am pissed. And also charging all my electronics.

(ETA: It’s ‘24 now, isn’t it. My brain hasn’t clicked the date over yet. What is time.)

#me for some reason #long post

[rius-cave]

I firmly believe that despite a horrific inability to cook anything else, Adam has PERFECTED making pizza rolls. Perfect temperature, mind-blowing crust, they never get too soggy, or burn the roof of your mouth.

Meanwhile, pork chops? Burnt to a crisp.

Pasta/ramen? Either barely cooked and still crunchy, or a mushy mess.

Heating up soup? Hope you didn't like that pan/microwave, because it's a smouldering mess now.

But pizza rolls? A+. Every. Single. Time.

-🥠

Anon I regret to inform you that I had never heard of those before (my ass is too Mexican probably) but quick googling gives me two different looking things, I assume you mean the ones that look like cinnamon rolls.

Man. That thing implies making DOUGH and BAKING, using the OVEN..... that is one bold choice to make as your exception for the Adam can't cook rule!

#hazbin hotel #adam #ask

[astyrial]

taste better than dinner emily prentiss x gn!reader (fluff) synopsis: your girlfriend comes home for dinner word count: 520 warnings: kissing (lots of it) masterlist | requests are open

    a savory aroma fills the kitchen's air. the stovetop emanates a heat that battles that of your chilly apartment. you always consider it to be cold, meanwhile your lovely girlfriend can't help but turn down the heating. you love her, but standing in front of the stovetop as you cook is the only thing keeping you from setting it to ninety. 

  you watch as the sauce bubbles, noodles becoming the perfect texture as it simmers. steam carries up to the over-the-range microwave. music plays in the background, instrumental, upbeat and easy to sway to. your feet tap the ground so lightly as a spoon stirs the ingredients in the pan.

  "mmh what smells so good?" a beautifully calm voice echoes behind you, someone wrapping their arms around your waist. 

  you go to turn off the music, especially after realizing that you didn't hear your amazing girlfriend open the door to your apartment. "no need, i love how you look when you're cooking and listening to music," her head leans forward, her lips pressing against your jawline.

  "but i couldn't even hear you enter the apartment, besides, i'd like to be able to have a coherent conversation with you babe," you turn your head, kissing emily's lips, a smile stretching across your lips into the kiss. 

  she reaches one hand up, caressing your cheek. "you taste better than whatever food is in that pot," emily whispers before kissing your jawline once more, flurries building up in your stomach. 

  no matter how long you've known emily, or how long the two of you have been dating, you always get butterflies around her. from her loving to a fault nature to her ability to hold her own, she's always been extraordinarily beautiful to you. 

  you raise your eyebrows, shaking your head a little, "terrible thing to say to the cook."

  emily leans back, her one hand holding onto you. her lips parting as if she didn't know what to say next. you widen your eyes a little, as if to say 'watch what you say next'. she gives you a wide smile, crinkling her nose and forehead. 

  "sorry, just as good as the food in front of you. i mean i think it's better because you're so intoxicating, but to each their own i guess," she lets go of your waist, taking a few steps away from you. 

  you turn around, grabbing her hand with a smile on your face, "mmh i think i'm the one getting drunk on your love, not the other way around gorgeous," she laces her fingers with yours.

  emily brings them up to her lips, kissing each of your knuckles before moving back to your own lips. her breath lingers against your lips as she takes a moment to relax. you search her eyes, watching as the light behind you brings them to a beautiful hazel color. 

  "if you keep staring at me like that dinner may burn. and then it definitely will taste worse than those lips of yours," she shrugs, leaning forward and kissing your nose before walking around you and stirring the food.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x gn!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic

[enterwittyjokehere]

Burning Breakfast

[Reciving! Tomas vrbada (mk1 smoke) x giving! amab reader smut]

[Content warnings]

[Amab reader]

[Male gendered terms used]

[No pronouns used]

[Fingering, anal]

[Anal penetration]

[Gay smut 18+ only]

Waking up next to your amazing boyfriend was always the best part of your day, his muscular arms holding you tightly in place. You stayed there, wrapped in his arms, for about twenty minute. Basking in the early morning sun, shining through your windows, even if they were covered by the sheer curtains.

When it was time for you to get up, you would shimmy out of Tomas' grasp. Him groaning slightly in his delirious state as you pulled away, the warmth you provided suddenly being replaced by the cold air of the room. To help you covered him up with the rest of the blankets, pulling on pants and walking into your kitchen. You started the coffee pot and got a pan out of the drawer, starting on the breakfast for you and your boyfriend.

He had ninja training with his brothers, meanwhile you had work, one much more exiciting than the other. A small smile found its way to your face when you heard the squeaking of floorboards, getting closer to you.

Hands found your waist, pulling your bottom half, closer to his own body. He lightly moaned when he came into contact with you, peppering small kisses to your shoulders.

"Good morning, Tomas." You cheered.

"Morning, handsome, what are you cooking?" He laid his face in the crook of your neck.

"Just some porridge, is that okay?"

"Of course, baby, I absolutely adore your cooking." He said, kissing the soft skin of your neck, grip tightening on your hips, "among your other great aspects."

Small fits of giggles escaped both you and your boyfriend as he pushed himself against you. Feeling his growing bulge poke against your thigh, a red blush began to overtake the color of your cheeks, but you just continued to stir the food.

"Tomas, I'm cooking, we can do this another time." You laughed, hands rubbing up his arm.

Tomas enjoyed the way your fingernails scraped up his scarred skin, as you rubbed his forearms, while they wrapped around your body. The two of you were roughly the same height, but Tomas was more well built, having the clear advantage.

Tomas only allowed a whine, his kisses and bites to your neck continuing, "but your so tempting... we can have a quickie, come on~"

You sat with the idea stirring the bubbling food, you turned the heat down and put a lid over it. The large plastic spoon stuck out, creating a gap for air flow, your lips curling into a smile.

"Fine, Tomas, really quick." You spun around, kissing your boyfriend, holding his face in your hands, "Do me a favor and bend over the counter."

Tomas' eyes lit up at your huskily whispered words, he hurried over turning his back to you, his hands firmly holding onto the ledge.

You traced your hands up his bare back and over his shoulders, down to his chest, grabbing at his waistband of his boxers. Pulling them down slowly, you pumped him slowly with one hand, "Ready, baby?"

You  continued to pump as you stood behind your boyfriend, looking down at your free hand, when realization hit, "Shit-!"

You released him, earning a quick worried glance from Tomas, "what?"

"We're forgetting the lube.." You said, pushing off of your lover, "I'll run go get it."

"You as*h*le." Tomas muttered, as you left him hard and naked leaning against the marble counter.

You came back several minutes later coating your index and middle fingers in the substance, grabbing onto him with the hand, that had lube on the palm.

The feeling of your lubed hand on Tomas' sensitive c**k made him much louder, even before you could begin to pleasure him fully. You began to pump around him again, "arch."

After your command your sweet boyfriend, knew what to do poking his a*s out, you inserted your two fingers. Tomas' grip on the ledge of the counter tightened, you slowly curled your fingers inside of him.

Each time you would curl your fingers, gently pushing the pads of your fingertips into his prostate, he would groan. You massaged the ball of nerves, while pumping and twisting your hand.

Tomas swore he could see stars.

The curling and uncurling of your fingers was still agonizingly slow, while the speed of your pumping increased drastically. Czech swears seeped out of Tomas' mouth, you slowly uncurled your fingers and pulled out of him.

You began to pump your own c**k, matching the rate you were pumping his. You quickly pulled your hand away as Tomas' whines got louder and more breathy, he looked back at you as you moved to grab the bottle of lube once more.

Putting more on your hand you pumped around your er*ct*on, making it slick. You licked your lips as your eyes traced back up to Tomas and over his figure, "ready?"

Your question was met with rapid nodding and Tomas arching his back more, fully leaned over the counter, his fingers digging into the underside of the marble.

You placed your hands on both sides of his a*s spreading him gently, you watched as you pressed into him, your c**k dissapearing inside of him. You pushed into Tomas fully, the hilt making contact with Tomas' own flesh, pausing for Tomas to get comfortable.

Twitching inside him, you watched as he trapped the top of the counter, letting you know you could move. Pulling out slowly, you pushed back in even slower, you grunted as you did, feeling Tomas tighten around you.

You continued that action, moving in and out, quickening your pace as you did. The breaths of you and Tomas, both, were released in huffs, your hand found its way back down to Tomas' erect c**k.

Moving around him, as your hips slammed into him, "Ah- (y/n)... F**k."

"That's it, baby, call out for me. Yell it! I wanna hear that pretty little mouth tell me what a great job I'm doing." You said, keeping your pace steady, in both your hips and hand.

Tomas smiled as he recalled something from the earlier days of your relationship, how desperate you are to please. The memory of how riled up you get when simple praises are thrown your way.

"Y-you are doing great- I love the way you pleasure me." Tomas praised, his words accompanied by heavy breaths and moans.

In and out. Slap, you delivered a sharp slap to Tomas' rear, causing him to cry out, "You know all the right spots to hit and- F**k-! You feel so Ah-! So f**king good inside of me-"

In and out, in and out. Slap, Tomas tensed, "Ano! Miláčku, just like that, I love that- F**k! I could never deserve to be f**ked by a man like you."

Slap. The red flesh of Tomas' a*s, screamed for you to stop but you knew that Tomas loved it. He began speaking in his native tongue the more lost in his pleasure he got.

Another thing that drove you wild, Tomas was quick to forget his learnt languages from pleasure as the only thing he could think of was how close he was to hitting his peaking.

Still leaking praises to you as you slapped and slammed into him, a few words in czech you could pick up on like "ano!" "Láska" And "miláčku".

You could feel your own org*sm creeping up on you as you listened to his praises, your thrusts became sloppy and swears leaked from your mouth. You rubbed the tip of Tomas' c**k, sending him over the edge he coated your fingers in his climax.

Licking your lips you lifted your sticky fingers to your mouth, licking the gooey substance up like candy.

He moaned your name followed by a string of words you couldn't understand, with a few more aimed thrusts you stopped deep inside of him. Climaxing your eyes closed tightly and your face moved together, as you groaned in pleasure. Pulling out with a string of your pleasure connecting you and Tomas.

After a second of taking deep breaths Tomas paused as he sniffed the air, curiously, "is something burning?"

"My f**king porridge-!" You rushed over turning the stove off as you looked down at the now black food in the pan.

"Coffee's still good though, right?"

#queer author #mk smut #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat #mk1 smoke #tomas vrbada smut #tomas vrbada x reader #x reader #fanfic #gay

[thebibliosphere]

Sometimes, usually, when I’m struggling mentally with something, and the brain weasels take hold, I worry that I don’t actually have ADHD and somehow manipulated my therapist into giving me a diagnosis because I’m an evil, trash person who needs a cover for being a lazy piece of shit who just needs to try harder.

Then I catch myself making gluten-free waffles because I was hungry and found out there was only one left in the freezer. So I break out all the ingredients to make gluten-free waffles, and I realize, hey, this leaves me with enough eggs to make meringues; I should make those too while I’m dirtying up the kitchen, and so I can throw this egg carton away. It’d be a shame to waste the egg yolks, though, so I should probably make custard too. I can turn it into ice cream for later. I should clean the ice cream machine while the waffle iron heats up. Oh, hey, that's where my glasses went. Oh, you know what, I should leave the masa out and make tortilas for dinner...

Meanwhile on the other side of the kitchen unattended:

Id: a gif of a cluttered kitchen. From left to right a medium-sized milk pan sits on the stove; a faint glow underneath indicates that the burner is on. Next to it a medium bowl sits with a whisk handle protruding over the lip. Next to that a red kitchen stand mixer is in mition, whisking the contents of a stainless steel bowl. Beside that an even larger bowl sits with a spatula protruding from the top; it appears to be filled with batter. On the far right next to the sink a waffle iron steams gently. End id.

Buy Joy, someone will likely ask, what about the waffle in the freezer? Did you get food?

Ahaha. No. No, I did not.

Did I get distracted thinking about making this post instead of getting a snack even after realizing this?

... God fucking damit.

#adhd #adult adhd #food mention #executive dysfunction

[sanderchu]

Hii! Can I request a Tommy x fem!reader where she wakes up before him and she puts his hoodie and makes breakfast for both of them and tommy comes into the kitchen and hugs reader from behind saying good morning and whatnot. Just lots of fluff <3

Breakfast made with love

Note: l o v e I t

Reader: Fem!reader

[writing] or hcs

You moved around as your eyes slowly started to open. You opened them to see tommy curled up next to you. You shivered slightly as you felt the cold air from his ac hit you. You smiled before kissing his head and going to grab a hoodie real quick from him. You picked his favorite to mess with him and put it on before heading to the kitchen. I’m the kitchen you just stood there for a bit to make yourself feel alive from just waking up.

Once you felt ready you decided to do something sweet and make tommy breakfast to share with you. You grabbed the ingredients to make a simple meal but shareable and began to cook. You turned on the stove and put a pan over the heat before cracking two eggs. Meanwhile, tommy slowly woke up from the smell of food. His apartment was small so anything spread quick. He groaned as he sat up but didn’t see you there with him. He noticed his room door was slightly open so with some energy he collected he got up and peaked through his door.

He saw you cooking so decided to mess with you. He slowly opened his door and creeped behind you and hugged you from behind. He heard you make a sound as you jumped in his arms. He only smiled and hid his face in your hair. “Good morning.” He mumbled as you kept cooking, “morning tommy” you can feel his smile as he swayed you back and forth. “For meeee?” He asked as you scoffed playfully, “for us” you said making him laugh, “your the best”

#dsmp imagine #dsmp x reader #dsmp scenario #dsmp #mcyt imagine #mcyt #mcyt x reader #scenario #tommyinnit #tommyinnit x reader #tommy x reader #tommy #dsmp tommyinnit

[hugmekenobi]

S2: The Bad Batch (12)

Chapter Twelve: The Outpost

Gif by @dreamswithghosts

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Some time has passed since everything that happened at Kamino and you and the Batch are trying to figure out your place in the rapidly changing Imperial galaxy. And you're having to do all this whilst figuring out where your relationship with Hunter fits into it.

Chapter Summary: Crosshair's mission for the Empire finalises what he'd feared would happen to him. Meanwhile, you and the Batch take on a tame job yet you find yourself filled with anticipatory dread but you have no sense of why.

Masterlist for S1

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, angst, Lieutenant Nolan, character death, my interpretation of Crosshair's thought process, Force-related anxiety, descriptions of exhaustion, poor attempt at kidnapping, light injury descriptions, reader isn't quite on top of things, briefest instances of innuendo (it's tiny and you might not even notice it but including just in case), me making up some of Hunter's past, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.9K

Author's notes: Told you I hadn't forgotten about Crosshair lol, the poor boy goes through it. Also added my own thing to go with it and thank you to @fuckoffthanos and @arctrooper69 for helping me out with deciding how this should go! Also, @arctrooper69, loved your idea and had to incorporate it somehow but just the way other things panned out, it's a bit on the tamer side but thank you again! Hope you everyone enjoys!

He waited by the shuttle and watched. He watched the group of newly redundant clones walk past. It was the same spiel from the Imperial officer every time- “The Empire thanks you for your years of service and wishes you well on your retirement.” Like that would really make a difference.

“CT-9904?”

Yes, that was who he was to them now. Just a designation, but at least he still had a purpose here, not like the countless others he’d seen be forced out. He turned to face the lieutenant who addressed him.

“You’re out of uniform.”

Right, yes. Can’t be seen to look too different. He put his helmet on and awaited his instructions.

“I’m Lieutenant Nolan, your commanding officer for this mission. We’re heading to the Imperial Depot on Barton-4. High-value cargo stored there has been targeted by local insurgents. We’re to secure it until it’s transferred at week’s end.” Nolan paused as he heard the faint voices of the clones already in the shuttle. He let out an irritated sigh. “Fantastic. More clones.”

“Problem, sir?”

“Yes. I don’t like used equipment.” He boarded the shuttle. “Let’s go.”

Right. ‘Used equipment.’ He couldn’t afford to give that more thought. There was a mission to complete. He grabbed his sniper rifle and stepped onto the ship.

--

Barton-4 was an ice planet. And a hostile one at that. The cold wind howled and worked its way through to his armour and seeped into his bones, and the gusts of snow made it hard to see ahead. It was understandable how things had been going so wrong. Getting caught off guard by native insurgents in a place like this would mean the squadron here would have no chance of defending themselves successfully.

The group made their way into the main cargo haul and Nolan addressed the droids moving the shipments. “Where is your supervisor?”

“You must be our reinforcements.”

They all turned in the direction of the voice who emerged from behind one of the containers.

“We expected you 36 rotations ago. Did you get lost?” The clone asked coolly.

“We work on the Empire’s schedule, trooper, not yours.” Nolan replied.

“It’s Commander, Lieutenant.”

“Well, Commander, your orders were to guard and protect this facility and its cargo, yet this outpost is grossly unguarded.” He followed the clone round the corner. “Where are the rest of your men?”

“Dead.” He replied bluntly before he introduced the clones cowering round a heat lamp. “Hexx, Veetch, and I, we’re all that’s left.”

Their names. He was using their names. Not designations.

“Your failings will be dealt with later.” Nolan scolded. “For now, I am in charge here until the cargo is transported.”

“I feel safer already.” The commander drawled.

“Look here, clone, you speak to me with respect.” Nolan snapped.

“In my experience, respect is something to be earned.”

The Lieutenant sneered. “Yet the Empire assigned you to this desolate rock, were you let the majority of your squad get killed.”

The commander didn’t rise to it. “Tell me, Lieutenant, how many missions have you commanded?”

Meanwhile, he watched the interaction between these two men with hidden interest. He liked that this clone wasn’t backing down so easily.

“That’s what I thought.” The commander said as his question was greeted by silence. He addressed his group behind him. “Boys, why don’t you help the new boss get situated?” As soon as they all left, he focused his attention on the soldier in black armour that had followed the lieutenant in. “You, uh, know the lieutenant well?”

“For about two hours.” He responded.

The commander scoffed. “Two hours too long, I bet.”

He hummed in agreement and was both surprised and grateful to see his fellow clone bring over the heat lamp.

“So, what’d you do to get stuck with this mission?”

“Just lucky, I guess.” He said distantly.

The commander’s laugh turned into a sigh. “The name’s Mayday.” He looked at the clone expectantly.

He debated for a moment. It had been so long since anyone had wanted to know his name and cared enough to ask about it. “Crosshair.” It almost sounded foreign; it had been a long time since he’d had a reason to use it.

“Welcome to The Outpost.” Mayday with faux celebration. He grabbed his helmet and blaster. “I’ll give you the lay of the land.”

--

Nothing was out of the ordinary, the ship flew peacefully through hyperspace, with you all deciding that you were going to heed Cid’s instructions- after all she had said you shouldn’t return if you didn’t scavenge anything from the crash site so you were doing as you were told and the added benefit of not being in her employment worked things out quite nicely.

So, why as you sat on the edge of your bunk, was it that with nothing being out of the norm, you had a deep sense of dread lingering in your heart? This was the worst it had been; you had sensed it creeping in the days since the failed mission from Cid and your sleep had been very limited but you had put the cause down as being the mission and assumed it would go away. It hadn’t. And last night had been the worst. It overwhelmed you and had prevented you from sleeping entirely and the exhaustion you were feeling wasn’t helping matters. A light tapping on your leg forced you out of your head.

You glanced down to see Hunter kneeling in front of you, hand on your knee. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“What’s going on?”

“Didn’t sleep well.” You said briskly, not wanting to create a fuss.

“Something on your mind?” Hunter asked kindly. He could tell you were putting a brave face on but even that couldn’t hide the dark shadows under your eyes and the way you could barely keep your head up.

You shook your head. You didn’t want to bother him with something you couldn’t even put a cause or label on. “Is something happening?” You jutted your head in the direction of the cockpit where the others were gathered.

Hunter let your deflection pass for now. He knew you well enough to know that he couldn’t push you to talk. You would come to him when you needed it.

“Phee got in touch. She’s got a mission for us, but she needs us to get some credits from a contact first.”

“And the catch?” You asked, stifling a yawn.

“Her contact seems to have five possible addresses to keep people guessing his location.”

You nodded slowly. “Honestly was expecting worse.”

Hunter gave you a small smile. “I’d figure I’d keep Omega with me and the rest of you split to check out each of the other addresses?”

“Sounds good, Seargeant.” You said as you stood up to go to the refresher. You splashed some water on your face, and you caught a glimpse of your reflection. You did look pretty rough. Your eyes were puffy and dark circles graced the skin underneath them. Maybe a distraction from this feeling would be a good idea. There wasn’t much you could do about the tiredness expect for push through but even doing a small job might help with forgetting for a little bit.

--

Not only had it sounded like Mayday and his team had been hung out to dry with degraded equipment and poor support all the while protecting cargo the Empire hadn’t deemed necessary to inform them of what exactly it was, but it also hadn’t taken long for the first attack on the depot to occur since he and the rest of them had arrived.

The raiders had made it in and out fast and had caused the deaths of the rest of Mayday’s team and had stolen more cargo. The only saving grace had been that Crosshair had been able to hit one of them as they retreated, and the blood trail led to a system of ice tunnels that had allowed them to slip through undetected for months.

Upon Nolan’s request, he and Mayday had gone in search of the crates, and they started with the ice tunnel.

--

“You sure you’re up for this?” Hunter asked you gently as the others stepped off the ship.

You knew he was coming from a good place, but your sleep-deprived state took it as more of an insult. “Yes.” You said tetchily.

Hunter raised his hands in appeasement. “I’m just checking in.”

You exhaled wearily and ran a hand across your face. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s probably best to just leave me be for the moment.” You lifted your hood and mask up.

Hunter debated pushing the matter further, but he decided to wait until this task was over. “Okay.” He put his helmet on and let you leave the ship first.

--

It turned out that Wrecker had the current address and after he confirmed everything went smoothly, Hunter had said you were all to head back to the ship. You cut down an alley way that was a shortcut but also a means to avoid a public scene since you’d been followed once you’d rounded the corner from one of the contact’s alternative residences. “Please, I’m in no mood to do this today.” You said tiredly as the figure dashed in front of you, halting you in your tracks. You stared the Weequay. “What do you want?”

“How’d you know about the money? I’ve been watching that house, and I heard your comm. Where’d you find him?”

“I don’t have it.” You ignored the crux of his question.

“No, but someone you know does. And you’re going to help us get it.”

You really couldn’t be bothered with a simple kidnapping. If you were going to be threatened today, you’d rather it be a bit more interesting than this. “You know you’re not actually going to get anywhere with that plan, right?”

The Weequay simply sniggered and drew a blaster.

You sighed heavily and reached for your holster. Your entire body was slow. You’d never felt so sluggish.

And that was probably why you didn’t pick up on the ‘us’ or register the person that came from behind and smacked the butt of their blaster across the back of your head.

--

“Alright, let’s get going.” Wrecker said cheerily as he stepped on board and put the case down. He took his helmet off.

Hunter glanced past him. “(Y/N)’s not with you?”

Wrecker shook his head. “Was she supposed to be?”

“She’s not come back yet, and we haven’t heard from her.” Omega informed him, her own troubled face matching Hunter’s.

Hunter reached for his comm and tried for you, but he got no reply. “She wouldn’t go radio silent without being told to.”

“You guys aren’t in a fight, are you?” Wrecker asked.

Hunter shot his brother an irritated look. “No. And even if we were, she knows better than to ignore any of us if we’re checking in.”

“(Y/N), come in.” Omega tried but again was met with no response.

Both Wrecker and Tech also attempted to get in touch with you, but nothing came through.

Hunter started pacing. You wouldn’t ignore all of them. You just wouldn’t, no matter what was happening. The panic was starting to set in now. It was something he rarely did and when he did do it, he didn’t like it, but now he was thinking he should’ve pulled his rank with you and at least made you stay on the ship. He’d known you were in not shape to go out there, even if it was a simple mission, whatever you were going through and the exhaustion you were experiencing would have an effect on anyone.

“Hunter, it’s her.” Tech called over from the cockpit as the ship’s main communication control lit up. Only it wasn’t your voice that came through.

“If you want to see her again, meet us with that lovely case of credits you picked up in 30 minutes.”

“How do we know she’s with you?” Hunter asked, doing his best to keep his voice level.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Her top has half a white skull on it.”

Dammit. Hunter paid no attention to the looks the others gave him. He needed to know more. He needed to know if you were okay. “I want to hear her. For all I know, you just saw her and that was the first thing you noticed.”

The voice chuckled unkindly. “She’s currently… unavailable for speaking. If you want that to be a more permanent state, then by all means, don’t do as we say. But, if you want her back, you better be here.”

“If you’ve hurt her-”

“It’s 20 minutes now. By all means, keep talking and pissing me off if you want her to suffer but I’d suggest you start walking.”

“Wait, but where are-” Omega started to say but the transmission cut out. “How are we supposed to find her?” She addressed the others.

“They used her own comm. I can trace it easily enough.” Tech said calmly as he got to work.

“The rest of us will go over her steps.” Hunter directed before he led the way off the ship.

--

If it wasn’t for the throbbing radiating throughout your skull, you might’ve been grateful for being knocked out. It was the closest thing you’d had to a rest. But the resulting headache and embarrassment at being so easily caught took precedence over any relief at being able to not think about what signals the Force was trying to send you. Now that you were awake, the feeling was back.

“Ah good, you’re up.”

You ignored the voice and took in your surroundings instead. The room was dark, the only light came from the faint glow of a lantern, and you were sitting with your back to a damp wall. Your hands were tied loosely in front of you with a piece of frayed rope. It was the worst attempt at kidnapping you’d ever experienced.

“Don’t worry. We’ve been in touch with your friends. Once we have the money, we’ll let you go.”

Your eyes had adjusted to the dimness, and it was then that you saw the two Weequay men standing by the doorway. You snorted. “Yeah, I’m not all that worried.”

“Oh yeah?” The one that had originally cornered you in the alley said.

“You two really don’t do this a lot, do you?”

“What are you talking about?” The one you didn’t recognise asked.

“Kidnapping people. You two are clearly new to the game.”

“Meaning what?” The first Weequay asked suspiciously.

You released an aggravated huff. You were too tired to do this, but it was your way out of here. “Meaning if you were regulars at this, you wouldn’t have used my comm to send your demands to my team- I’m assuming that’s what you did, right?” Their anxious glance to one another gave you your answer. You continued, “Ideally, you also would tie my hands behind my back, or, at the very least, you would double check the strength of the knot.”

“Check it.” The one you had seen first ordered his companion.

Perfect. As he kneeled down in front of you, you punched him on the underside of his jaw, and he crumbled to the floor. Acting quickly, you broke your hands out of their restraints, and you fired a stun blast from his blaster to the second one, who had been too taken aback by your actions to get his blaster out in time.

You grabbed your stuff and headed for the door, but it was then you heard the faint sound of someone grunting. You were still pretty out of it so as you moved to dodge the blade, your reaction wasn’t quite fast enough. You inhaled sharply as the knife sliced the part of your forearm that wasn’t protected by your armour. It wasn’t much more than a graze, but you could feel blood slowly secreting from the wound and it stung like hell. You whipped around and fired a stun bolt to the half-collapsed figure, and he fell unconscious.

You opened the door to be greeted by three familiar faces. “Oh. Hey, what brings you all here?”

“We were coming to rescue you.” Omega said as she peered around you to see the two knocked out Weequays.

“I appreciate it, kid. I’ll save you something to do next time.” You dug deep for the smile that graced your face as you touched her shoulder. “Thanks for coming after me, guys.” You said to the group.

“Did they hurt you?” Hunter asked urgently as he scanned your body for any obvious injures.

You shook your head. “Nothing major. It was my fault anyway. I completely switched off.”

“Yeah, what even happened?” Wrecker asked you.

“Don’t really wanna relive the humiliation at the moment, Wrecker.” You took a breath. “We good to go?” You asked Hunter who nodded and the four of you walked back to the Marauder.

--

“Tech, would you mind bringing the medkit down here?” You asked as you boarded the ship and sat down on your bunk. “Also, thanks for helping find me.”

“No thanks are necessary. Although, it was a relatively simple mission; I do not understand how this incident occurred in the first place or how you managed to injure yourself.” Tech said frankly as he pulled the medkit down and started to make his way over to you.

He was right but you were embarrassed enough to be so caught off guard like you were and you didn’t need more reminders. “Tech, what about my general demeanour right now makes you think I’m unaware of that fact?” You said through gritted teeth as you tossed your vambrace with a little too much zest judging by the way it smacked off the wall by your bed. You were doing your best to keep it together. You were determined to not let your mood affect the relationships around you.

“I only meant-”

“Tech.” Hunter warned him off calmly as he took to medpack from him. “Just get the ship in the air, okay?”

“Very well.” Tech said with a nod before he turned back for the cockpit.

Omega and Wrecker followed him.

“Do you want-” Hunter started to offer.

“I can do it myself, it’s a really small cut.” You said touchily as you held your hand out for the case.

Hunter didn’t fight you on it and he was prepared to give you space, so he handed it to you. “I’ll be in the cockpit with the others if you need me.” He risked a step forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

You did feel instantly more tranquil after he did that. “I’m sorry.” You uttered quietly as he stepped away.

Hunter tenderly rubbed a thumb across your cheekbone. “Get some rest.”

--

Crosshair and Mayday rounded the corner of the tunnel, and the blood trail came to an end. Both their lights found the dead body of the raider hunkered against the wall.

“He didn’t get far.” Crosshair said wryly.

Mayday kneeled down to examine the body. “Not sure what bothers me more. That he’s wearing armour stolen off my men or that his cohorts just left him here.”

“No point in carrying deadweight.”

Mayday glanced back at Crosshair. “Remind me not to die on your watch.”

Crosshair didn’t pay the comment much mind. He just carried on walking past, but he didn’t get very far as he suddenly came to a complete standstill as he heard the activation click of something hidden in the snowy ground. His best chance was to not move a muscle.

“Pressure mine.” Mayday stated.

“Mm-hmm.” Crosshair nodded.

Mayday brought his light down to examine it. “What were you saying about deadweight?”

“Do you know how to disarm it?”

“I’m not an explosives expert, but since I don’t feel like carrying your body back to the outpost, I guess I’ll give it a shot.” Mayday took off his helmet and put his blaster on the ground as well as his torch- but he kept the light trained on the pressure mine- as he crouched down. He blew away the flakes of snow still covering it. “Hmm. This mine’s a little different than ones I’ve seen before, but I’m pretty sure they’re all the same. Guess we’ll find out soon enough, huh?”

It wasn’t the most comforting of statements for Crosshair to hear, but he’d take any help he could get at this point.

Mayday pulled out his tools and carefully got to work. “I wish I had the proper equipment for this, but the Empire’s ignored all my requests. I’ve learned to improvise though. I guess all clones have had to since the war. Can’t say I ever thought much about the war ending…” he sighed, “… until it did.”

As Crosshair stood still on the mine and waited for Mayday to get him out of it, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander and start thinking about his old squad and how different this mission would be going. Tech would have the suitable equipment. Hunter would’ve known where to step to avoid a situation just like this and he’d have made finding these raiders look easy despite the conditions. And, even if one of them still found themselves in this position, Wrecker would’ve disarmed it with a degree of ease and sophistication people wouldn’t necessarily expect from him. While he would never admit it out loud, he was finding that he missed them. Mayday’s question to him pulled him out of his thoughts.

“What unit were you with?”

That was a question he did not want to answer. “It doesn’t matter.” He just about manged to grind out.

“Humour me. I could use the distraction.”

Well, if he wanted them both to make it out of this, he had to do what Mayday was asking of him. “Clone Force 99.”

“What happened to them?”

“They’re gone.” He replied subduedly. It wasn’t a lie. They were gone and he didn’t know where they had wound up or even if they were all still together and alive. It had been a long time now since that day on the platform on Kamino.

“And here we are, the survivors.” Mayday peered up at Crosshair. “Hmm. Combat troopers stuck babysitting cargo shipments.”

If he let his mind start to drift down that path any more than he already had on occasion, then he’d lose all sense of purpose. He’d lose that purpose he was so sure this Empire would provide. “Mission’s a mission.”

Mayday chuckled sarcastically. “Yeah, I used to say the same thing.” He inspected his work and grabbed his gear before he stood up. “There. That should do it.” As he saw Crosshair start to move, spoke up swiftly. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Don’t pick up your foot yet. Wait until I tell you, then lift it, but real slow like.” He started to walk past him. “I’ll wait around the bend. If I don’t hear a boom, then I’ll know it worked.”

“Glad your confident in your work.”

Mayday put his helmet back on as he continued to walk away. “Oh, I’m confident. I’m just not stupid. Remember, nice and slow. On the count of three. One. Two. Three.”

Crosshair lifted his foot and sighed in relief when there was no explosion.

The two of them made their way out the tunnel into the storm. It was then they saw the light radiating from the raider’s base and they put their plan of attack into action.

--

It had been going well. The enemy bas was destroyed, and they were able to reclaim the cargo. They went down to the area where the cargo had spilled. But it was then when it had started to go wrong as they both discovered what it was they were risking their lives for and what it was Mayday and his men had men had devoted their lives to defending. And… and it wasn’t worth the fight they had put in.

“Gear?” Mayday said aloud as he examined the boxes. “We’ve been risking our lives to recover equipment we could have been wearing this whole time?”

Crosshair nudged a helmet with his foot to expose the design. “It’s not clone trooper gear.” Because why would it be? They were disposable after all.

Mayday picked up a breastplate. “New toys for their shiny new military, and we get the scraps. After all the clones have done, all we’ve sacrificed… We’re good soldiers. We followed orders. And for what?”

Crosshair didn’t have an answer for him. He thought he’d been a good solider but how was that being rewarded? He couldn’t see it. If he had any lingering doubts about where his place in this Empire was, this mission was doing a good job of eradicating them. He, Mayday, and all his fellow clones weren’t valued. They weren’t worth anything to this Empire.

Suddenly, a growing rumbling echoed around them.

“Go!” Mayday ordered as he saw avalanche hurtling towards them from the mountain behind them.

They ran as fast as they could through the deep snow, but they couldn’t outrun it, the best they could do was make it past the rock ahead.

Crosshair didn’t know what happened. One minute both of them were running side by side, and the next Mayday was knocking him past the rock and letting himself get swept up by the snow first which meant he smashed into the rockface.

Crosshair’s helmet was knocked away and the best he could do was take a deep breath as the snow smothered him.

--

Crosshair punched a hand through the top of the snow before his head followed and he breathed in the cold air. His entire body was numb and shivering but he couldn’t dwell on that for too long since he’d caught sight of Mayday’s helmet a few metres ahead. He heaved his way through the waist deep snow towards it and started to desperately dig through to find his companion.

It was after a few moments that Mayday’s face came into view, but his eyes were shut, and his body was limp as Crosshair propped him against the rock behind him. “Mayday? Mayday, wake up!” The faint groan from Mayday’s mouth was enough of an indicator that he was alive… that there was hope for him. “Come on. We have to move.”

Mayday’s eyes flickered open. “Go.” He gasped. “I won’t make it.”

Crosshair didn’t know what possessed him to grab Mayday’s helmet and put it back on his head. All he knew now as he supported Mayday’s body was that it was something he had to do. He had to make sure they both made it back and Mayday would survive. He was going to get them both through the storm.

--

Hunter came back from the cockpit to see everyone else asleep but you. You were perched on the edge of your bunk looking utterly shattered and anything but relaxed. You still had all your gear on, minus the one vambrace you’d taken off to tend to your cut earlier. “Sweetheart, you need to get some sleep.”

“I can’t.” You mumbled, utterly defeated, as you brought your head down to lean against his shoulder.

Hunter rested his head on top of yours. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

“I can’t because I don’t know.” You sighed deeply and pushed your face into the crook of his neck. “I’m just so tired.”

“What can I do?” Hunter asked softly.

“Knock me out until we rendezvous with Phee.” You suggested, only half kidding.

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea, but we can keep it as an option.” Hunter said lightly. “Come on.” He gently nudged you up, ignoring your slight groan of protest. He went to the ground in front of you.

“Okay, but I’m pretty tired, can’t promise I’ll be super enthusiastic.” You attempted levity but your tone was too flat.

“Hush you.” Hunter said with a slight grin. He got to work on taking your boots off before he came to sit next you. He started to delicately take your remaining armour off before he reached for the ends of your first layer. “Arms up.” He prompted tenderly.

Your arms felt heavy, but you did as he asked and he brought it up and over your head, taking care to not let you get caught in the material. “Now what?” You asked drearily.

“Now you lie down and close your eyes.”

“You know, I have tried doing that.” You said drily.

Hunter gave you an imploring look. “Just trust me, okay?”

You did and so you found yourself lying back down.

Hunter enveloped you. He rubbed, light, soothing patterns across your arms and back. He could feel how tense you were. He kept his voice quiet and low to create as restful an environment as he could for you. “I want you to focus on me. Nothing else. Nothing else matters. It’s just you and me here right now. Switch off. Focus on my voice. Focus on my heartbeat. Breathe with me.” He stared taking slow, deep breaths whilst continuing his peaceful touches. “It’s just us. I’m right with you. You don’t have to think about anything else. I love you. I’ll always be right here.”

You did as he asked. His hands were warm- if a little rough- against your arms but years of wielding a blaster would have that effect and you welcomed that feeling. It reminded you of all that he had survived, of what you all had survived and that he was there with you. Deep breaths. He’s here. He’s okay. Everyone’s okay. Shut it off. You thought to yourself. You mirrored his breathing and continued to listen to his words.

As the minutes grew longer and you continued to listen to him, you felt yourself start to relax into him. Your eyes grew heavy, and it was easier to keep them shut this time. How’d you know how to do this so well?

“Growing up with enhanced senses had its difficulties. I had to learn how to manage it.” He felt you nuzzle closer to him, and a deep sigh left your body. “There you go” He murmured as he kept caressing your body. “Keep breathing with me.”

Things felt easier now as you focused on him, on his scent, on the feeling of his hands on your body, on his breathing. And the last thing you remembered was you telling him you loved him and the kiss to the top of your head from him before you drifted off.

--

Crosshair staggered onto the main platform of the outpost and fell to his knees. He tried to be as gentle as he could when it came to putting Mayday down.

“About time you two returned.” Nolan said harshly as he approached the two men.

“He-” Crosshair broke off with an exhausted pant before he removed Mayday’s helmet. “He needs a medic.”

Nolan ignored him. “I see you didn’t retrieve the crates, which means you’ve failed your mission.”

How could that be all he was concerned about? “Did you hear what I said? Help him!” Crosshair begged as he could feel the pain and weariness creeping into his own body, but Mayday needed the help first. He had to be saved.

“Certainly not. That would be a waste of the Empire’s resources.”

“He’ll- He’ll die.” Did they truly not care? And it was then he heard one last pained cough from Mayday before his eyes shut and he fell silent. Crosshair searched for a pulse but found none. No. No. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“He served his purpose as a soldier of the Empire.” Nolan said unsympathetically.

Crosshair could feel white hot anger start to rise within him. “You- You could have saved him!”

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me. He is expendable, as are you.”

And there it was. Confirmation of the doubt he had been trying so hard to deny. Hunter had been right. They were only ever numbers.

“And if you speak to me again with such disrespect, I’ll see to it you meet a similar fate, clone.” Nolan continued disdainfully.

Crosshair caught the sight of the shadow of one of the ice vultures. He knew they were coming for Mayday. But it shouldn’t be here for him.

“Now, leave him and get back to work… while you’re still useful.” Nolan started to walk back to the shuttle.

Crosshair looked up to the sky and started at the circling bird. He’d thought he’d found a way to survive on his own too but that had changed. He was supposed to have this incredible ability to see things others couldn’t. How had he been so blind for so long? Well, no more. He’d had enough. He wasn’t concerned about the consequences he would face with what he was about to do. All he knew was that he wouldn’t give this Empire anything more.

He got unsteadily got to his feet and trained his blaster on the retreating back on Lieutenant Nolan. “Lieutenant.” He didn’t hesitate and the shot went straight through Nolan’s chest as soon as he turned around. It was after that final act that he finally let the exhaustion and agony take him and his sight went dark.

--

You awoke with a start and sat up. Things had been going well but that was a new development. You rested a hand on your chest as you felt your heart pounding. You shivered. You were cold, both outwardly and inwardly. There was a deep chill in your veins that left you feeling frozen and unsettled. You took a few deep breaths to settle yourself.

“What’s wrong?” Hunter rasped; his voice still thick with sleep as he sat up alongside you and laid his hand on your back.

“I don’t know.” You murmured uneasily as you fiddled with the bandage on your arm. “Something woke me up. There was this cold shadow and all I could feel was fear and pain, but I couldn’t see what from or who.”

“It was just a bad dream.” Hunter comforted. He kissed the back of your shoulder. “Come on, you should try to get back to sleep.”

“Right… a bad dream.” You whispered distantly as you let him lay you back down. Whatever it was that had woken you up, it felt real, it wasn’t just a bad dream, you were experiencing what someone else was going through but you didn’t have a face to put to the feeling and you didn’t know what it could be. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on the feeling of Hunter’s arm draped over you, holding you close, but you couldn't shake the feeling like there was something more to what just happened and so sleep didn’t easily come this time around.

--

Crosshair woozily came around to the sound of equipment beeping. He didn’t recognise where he was, and it was then he heard the muffled sound of someone addressing him.

“Hello, CT-9904. Or do you prefer, Crosshair?”

His name. She was using his name. The woman that was speaking to him seemed to be some kind of doctor. “Where am I?” He asked wearily.

“I’m holding you for observation. Once you’ve healed, the doctor will come for you.”

She was holding a needle to his neck, yet she wasn’t the primary medic? “Who- Who are you?”

“Remain calm. Cooperate and you might survive.” That was all he registered before the needle pierced his skin and he fell into darkness once more.

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