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wileys-russo · 7 months

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childhood sweethearts (5) II a.russo x reader

series playlist part one part two part three part four

and as we await the fate of our two main protagonists eventual kiss. its time to find out what really happened six years ago. childhood sweethearts (5) II a.russo x reader

"do i need to pick you up tomorrow then?" your older sister lily asked as she pulled up outside the russo household, drumming her fingers on her steering wheel as you unbuckled and shook your head.

"no i'll probably stay the full weekend and just go to school with less on monday." you shrugged, reaching around to grab your bag off the backseat. "what about your uniform? books? your bag?" your sister frowned as you opened her door.

"i've got a spare uniform here, i can borrow a bag to put my stuff in and i've already got my books with me, i have to study." you patted your overnight bag as the girl rolled her eyes. "of course you do, does your brain even know what a weekend is or do you mentally go to school 7 days a week?" she jeered as you mocked her and flipped her off, closing her door as her window rolled down.

"some of us have aspirations to graduate lilian." you smiled, your sister having dropped out early to pursue a career in cosmetics which had lasted all of three months. "have a shit time dickhead!" your sister called out after you as you made your way down the driveway, flipping her off again without turning around.

"none of that here thank you young lady." your face flushed red as carol opened the front door for you before you'd even arrived, having seen you through the window. "sorry carol." you smiled guiltily, giving her a hug as she let you in with an amused smile.

"lessi's just showering sweetheart." the woman explained as you hummed, leaving your bag by the lounge and following her to the kitchen, you'd been wondering why the girl hadn't responded to you on the way over here and now it made sense.

"shortstack! i saw your hot sister dropped you off." gio wiggled his eyebrows suggestively before pulling you into a gentle headlock as you rounded the corner. "urgh you're like my brother gio thats so weird!" you gagged at the comment, wrestling to try and remove his arm to no use.

"oi get off her!" his grip disappeared as alessia entered, bottle blonde hair pulled up into a damp bun on her head as she punched her brother in the ribs, immediately pulling you into a protectively tight hug as gio let you go with a loud groan of pain.

"mum!" the boy huffed in complaint, your girlfriend rolling her eyes and mumbling an apology as the older women told her off. "i wish you'd fuck off back to jordan." the boy sulked, grabbing an apple and heading back upstairs to his room as carol yelled after him for swearing.

your girlfriend had only just gotten back yesterday from a week away at a junior lionesses tournament which had been held in jordan. as much as you'd missed her dearly you couldn't have been more proud of her or the two goals she scored, getting her rightful start in the final game. you'd only wished you were able to be there but you didn't have the luxury of a national call up as an excuse to miss a week of school.

"we'll be in my room mum." alessia announced, arm slung over your shoulder as the woman hummed and waved you off, head buried in a recipe book making you smile as your girlfriend lead you away, stopping to grab your bag for you, silencing your protests with a very quick peck to your lips after she'd triple checked no one else was around.

the pair of you had been seeing one another officially for almost two years now however no one but each other actually knew that, and just assumed you were best friends, forever thick as thieves and inseparably close.

neither of you had any idea how no one had caught on yet, maybe it was because you and alessia had always been so close and so affectionate nothing seemed out of sorts to the average eye.

you'd always loved alessia in one way or another. but when it was just the two of you behind a closed door and your lips were pressed together, cold hands roaming one anothers bodies, murmuring everything and anything you loved about the other, you were absolutely infatuated with her in a way so intense it was almost scary.

and that was one sort of love you both agreed you weren't ready to share with anyone but each other just yet.

though both of you did need to often stumble through pools of awkward lies and ramble quickly made up stories as you'd be called out by your friends for the occasional poorly placed or forgotten about hickey.

this was normally your problem. ever since she'd figured out how sensitive your neck was the taller girl utilised every and any opportunity to capitolise on that.

riled on by the whiny begs for her not to stop as she hungrily attacked and devoured your neck late at night, silencing you with a hand pressed over your mouth and a gentle warning in your ear that if you weren't quiet she would stop.

"hi." you breathed out with a grin, looking up adoringly at the striker once the two of you were finally alone behind the safety and security of her locked bedroom door. "god i missed you." alessia sighed, pulling you into a bone crushing hug as you reveled in one anothers touch.

"we spoke every day lessi!" you laughed into her shoulder, alessia having been told off both by her roommate ella and her coach for the hours spent on her phone when she was supposed to be resting and recovering.

"we could be together every minute of every day and i'd still miss you." the blonde pulled away with a cheeky smile as you rolled your eyes playfully. "don't wish that on me please, what a nightmare!" you groaned teasingly as your girlfriend scoffed, holding a hand to her chest in mock offence.

"lessi!" you squealed as she tackled you down onto her bed, hovering over you. "that's baby to you, thanks very much." alessia pouted as you laughed, thumb stroking her cheek affectionately. "there is also something else i missed that we can't do on the phone." the blonde smiled suggestively, cocking her head to the side as her hair fell around you both like a curtain.

"mmm...nothing comes to mind." you looked off into the distance as if deep in thought, hand coming to stroke your chin as alessia playfully shoved your head. "kiss me then star girl." you smiled softly, tugging at her shirt.

as your eyes met, the world seemed to fade away. you felt her hand gently touch your cheek, slender fingers tracing a line down your jawline. hearts raced as her lips met yours, soft and gentle at first, then with a growing intensity as she poured into the kiss just how much she had missed you.

if you were sentenced to death the next day and were allowed one last day to do as you pleased, you'd be sure to spend it kissing alessia.

every single time felt just like the first. the same nervous butterflies would flutter around inside you, lips would tingle as if you'd just smeared them with popping candy, your heart grew five sizes to the point it felt it might burst in your chest.

each kiss was full of tenderness and passion, a dance of two hearts in perfect harmony as the girl who you trusted with your heart and your life drowned you with her love.

you felt her arms wrap even tighter around you, pulling your bodies close as you lost yourselves in the moment. the world around you ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them in a sea of pure unbridled emotion, two hearts beat as one.

her lips always slightly chapped melded against yours perfectly, kissing you with just the right amount of firm pressure to have your stomach in knots, and yet each touch felt so soft and so tender that your brain went fuzzy at the sensation.

her hand would always reach out to tangle in your hair as your own gently carressed her cheek, thumb stroking her jawline, feeling it clench at the featherlight touch.

and then suddenly your lungs would scream for a reprise and you'd pull away, collapsing into the mattress as both of you lay on your sides, eyes locked as chests heaved and alessia leant forward to brush a few flyaways behind your ear.

gone were the afternoons of her kicking a ball at your head, smearing mud on your face as the two of you wrestled and rolled around in the dirt like steam rollers.

your afternoons now were spent wrapped up in the others arms, sharing kisses as you filled one another in on the seemingly more mundane parts of your day the other hadn't been present for, you and alessia only sharing two classes in your final year of school.

on the days alessia trained after school you studied, often at her house in her bedroom eagerly awaiting her to return.

the striker would have left her boots outside at her mums strict request, trudging up the stairs with an exhausted sigh as you'd perk up hearing the squeak of the infamous stair the two of you learned to avoid when sneaking downstairs for a midnight snack.

she would shoulder open her door and dump her kit bag on the ground, making a beeline for her bed and belly flopping normally on top of you, face buried in your neck as she clung onto you tightly with a mumbled greeting hello.

sometimes you'd wind her up and tell her you wouldn't kiss her until she showered, dodging her attempts as you teased her for smelling terribly which normally ended in her trapping you in a bear hug beneath her until you tapped out on her back and gave in, allowing her lips to finally meet yours.

other times she'd have been told she wasn't starting next game and her head would hang low from the moment she entered the room. you'd immediately sit up and brush your books to the side, opening your arms for her to melt into. carding your fingers through her hair and slipping a hand up her top you'd hold her tightly, rubbing circles on her back, lips lingering on her sweaty forehead.

as you'd always known, you loved alessia, nowadays in a way much more intimate and tender than you'd have ever understood in your youth.

"you're so beautiful." the taller girl spoke softly as you lay side by side, words melting you like butter as you couldn't help but blush, no matter how often she complimented you it still had you swooning.

"why are you so shy? it's very cute baby but we've known each other like our whole lives." alessia laughed as you hid your face in your hands, the blonde prying them away and attacking your face with kisses only making your cheeks heat up further.

her leg nudging yours as you lifted one, allowing hers to slot in perfectly, your limbs tangled up as your foreheads pressed against one anothers.

"il mio bel bambino." (my pretty baby) her lips moved to gently kiss your fingertips, hands held captive in hers.

"you learned more italian!" your face lit up in pride as alessia eagerly nodded, beginning to ramble about how she had made it her mission to continue her online lessons even while away.

"alessia mia teresa russo studying in her free time? has there been an doomsday i wasn't aware of? are you feeling okay?" you gasped holding the back of your hand to her forehead, squealing as her fingers jabbed sharply at your sides.

"yeah well unlike school work this is something i actually want to learn!" she rolled her eyes and you grinned, kissing her nose and swooning as she scrunched it up adorably.

"hey. can we talk about something?" the blonde asked hesitantly, eyes dropping down to avoid yours, messing with your fingers as you nodded, eyebrows knitting into a curiously concerned frown at what was to come.

"okay but i don't know how you'll react so we have to do the thing." alessia decided, looking to you for confirmation as you hummed, the two of you sitting up and spinning around suddenly.

you shuffled slightly so your back was pressed against hers, hands finding one anothers and intertwining your fingers as your heads slumped onto one anothers shoulders, eyes closing.

"what's on your mind lessi?" you asked softly, squeezing her hands supportively as she let out a long sigh. "well. when we were away a few of the girls were talking about their...well their first times, with their boyfriends." alessia started quietly, her heart hammering away in her chest with every word.

"and i guess it just got me thinking about it." she spoke a little quicker now, clearly nervous for your reaction to her words, squeezing your left hand to signal she was done talking for now.

"some of the girls at school have been talking about it too." you confessed. "are you thinking about...wanting to do that?" you asked gently, not wanting her to feel as though you were judging her in any way. "maybe? does that make you feel...weird, or anything?" she asked slowly.

"no, definitely not weird." you promised, the two of you sitting in silence for a moment. "i guess i think i'm ready? to do that. but i don't want you to feel like...pressured into anything. we can do it soon, we can do it later, we can never do it if you didn't want to." she assured, starting to ramble as you squeezed her hands, grounding her into silence again.

"i want to do it with someone i love and someone i trust and you're the person i love and trust the most lessi. i think i'm ready too, whenever it happens." you spoke softly, unable to see the blush creep up your girlfriends neck at your words.

and it did happen. it was a couple of months later when you had your house to yourselves, your parents having taken your brother away for the weekend for a cricket tournament and your sister disappearing around to her boyfriends house.

the first time it was awkward, nervous, weird and clumsy of course, neither of you had done anything like this before and you'd have been lying to one another if you said you both hadn't tried to do some...research on your own to try and best prepare.

but despite that, it was with alessia.

you felt safe and you felt comfortable and loved the whole time, it didn't quite have the ending either of you expected (that sort of ending came a few weeks later and boy oh boy...no amount of research could have prepared you for the feeling) but it only strengthened the trust between the two of you, and was yet another first you'd experienced by one anothers loving side.

they always say your first love is a little foolish, some may even say there isn't something called first love. but what makes those initial feelings of love most beautiful are it's innocence.

when you fall in love for the very first time, that innocence inside you, that's a precious thing. it feels like you give your whole heart to someone, and as if you wouldn't ever know anyone else to treasure and care for it.

which is why it was all too easy for alessia russo to be both your first love, and your first heartbreak.

it all started the day you got the letter.

your mum had found it first, fighting her every urge to rip it open and read your fate, instead leaving it neatly on your pillow for you to find when you returned home that afternoon.

you'd spent the day with the russo's, thermos of her dads famous hot chocolate in your hand, bundled up in a hoodie with your girlfriends jersey tugged over the top. you sat shoulder to shoulder with her brothers in the stands, watching your favorite blonde play in one of her final games of the season.

you didn't pretend to understand half the rules of football much as alessia had dedicated years of her life trying to teach you, and so her brothers knew to hit you with running commentary throughout. but the one thing you would always understand was the sense of utter euphoric pride which rushed through you watching her play, especially when she scored.

her arms would shoot up into the air and her eyes would always find yours, pointing up at you and her family with a lopsided grin, sprinting to celebrate with her teammates as you all screamed out encouragement, drowning her in whistles and claps before play resumed.

coming away with a 4-1 win meant they were in pole position to finish top of the table, and so alessia was unable to wipe the shit eating grin off her face as she emerged from the change rooms afterwards, waving goodbye to her team mates and jogging over to where you all waited for her.

she'd always hug her dad first, your girlfriend was the true epitome of his girl, and mario reveled in teasingly holding that over carol. you were always last, alessia always saved the best for last, picking you up and spinning you around off your feet as you'd laugh and sing her praises, the two of you hugging tightly.

"i love when you wear my jersey." she mumbled in your ear, sending you a soft smile as you bumped your shoulder into hers and the two of you made your way back to the car, her brothers talking her ear off about the game as you stayed stuck to her side, watching on with a quiet amusement, not understanding most of what was said but feeling nothing but pride for the taller blonde beside you.

luca had driven himself and gio as they waved you both off and headed across the lot, you and alessia slipping into the back of her dads car. her mum would always fuss over the two of you, throwing a blanket over your legs and ignoring alessia's insistence that she was still warm after running around for two hours, carol always winning out as your girlfriend rolled her eyes and gave in.

but the blanket gave the opportunity for your hand to grab hers, squeezing softly as you looked at her in admiration, her head falling tiredly to your shoulder as the two of you chatted along to her parents, waving them off as you pulled up outside your house.

you promised you'd give your mum a hug for carol, hugging them both goodbye. normally her dad would warn he'd be out the front no later than eight since you both had school the next day, but now graduated there wasn't a reason the two of you couldn't spend the next few days together if you wanted, likely flittering from house to house as you often did.

appeasing your mum with small talk for a few minutes you grew impatient, tugging on the back of alessias hoodie with a longing look as the girl would make an excuse, the two of you hurrying off to your room.

"why do you always make me end the conversations. i quite like chatting with your mum!" alessia rolled her eyes as you closed your bedroom door. "because she loves you more and she actually listens to you. and because i haven't properly congratulated you yet for winning!" you grinned as your girlfriend sat on the end of your bed.

"mm that so?" the blonde smiled, arms settling themselves around your waist as her chin rested on your stomach, your own hands playing with the baby hairs on the nape of her neck.

you were about to lean down and kiss her, when your eyes spotted it.

alessia noticed your frown right away, squeezing your hips to gain your attention as you shook your head, stepping away from her and making a beeline for the letter.

"shit is that-" "i think it is." "well, open it!"

"i'm scared. what if i didn't get in?" you admitted, biting your bottom lip nervously as alessia sat right by your side. "you're the most intelligent person both intellectually and emotionally that i've ever met baby, and you got phenomenal marks in our GCSE's. open it!" she knocked her knee against yours and you nodded.

"oh for god sakes." alessia huffed impatiently as you fiddled with the corner, peeling it off painstakingly slow as your girlfriend plucked it out of your hands, ripping the letter right open.

"no you read it." you shook your head as she tried to give it back to you, alessia nodding as her eyes scanned over the paper, face unreadable as you nervously bounced your knee.

"we regret to inform-" your body crumpled at that, flopping back into the mattress as you felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes. "only joking baby. you got in!" alessia pounced on top of you with a grin as you shot upwards, accidentally smacking your head into hers.

"oh my god i got in?!" you breathed out in shock as the blonde clutched at her throbbing head. "oh god baby i'm so sorry!" you squeaked out as she waved you off with a wince, opening her arms expectantly.

"i am so fucking proud of you. my pretty, smart, funny, kind, gorgeous-" the older girl kissed you with every word, the grin unable to be wiped from your face as your mum burst in, alessia very quickly jumping away from you as you filled her in on the news.

and as you jumped up to embrace her, your sister next to run in to congratulate you, alessia couldn't have possibly been any prouder.

but she also couldn't help but allow her mind to drift back to the box sitting in her wardrobe, signed four year scholarship and enrollment papers filled in and ready to be sent off to the states.

she knew she needed to tell you. but the thought of doing so punched a hole in her chest, and so she put it off as long as possible.

well, as long as she could until you found out yourself.

it was around a couple of weeks later, you were spending your usual friday night together, movies loaded and armfuls of snacks spread out on the bed awaiting consumption.

"lessi baby can i have a hoodie please?" you kissed your girlfriends jaw softly, the girl humming and pointing her foot toward her cupboard, engrossed in a video on her phone.

"yeah thanks, such a gentlewoman." you muttered, smacking her thigh as the girl whined and shoved you away. with a roll of your eyes at her lack of attention on you, you thrust open her cupboard, hunting around for your favourite hoodie which you knew she'd hidden, no longer wanting you to steal it as it was also her favourite to wear.

with a victorious grin you spotted the sleeve poking out from a pile of jumpers in the corner, rolling your eyes at her poor attempt at hiding and yanking it out. you frowned as a box lay hidden beneath the material, UNC on the front.

curiousity getting the better of you, assuming it was likely a new pair of trainers she'd bought and hidden from her mum as to not be told off for her spending habits, you opened it.

god, how you wished you hadn't.

your stomach leapt into your mouth as your eyes scanned just the first few words of the letter sat atop a bright blue sweatshirt.

"less. what's this?" at first she only hummed, attention still fixated on the video. "alessia. what is this?" you spoke louder now, the girls phone dropping from her hand as she looked up and saw what you had in your hand.

"baby-" "why the hell have you got a four year american football contract hidden in your wardrobe?"

"i wish you hadn't found that." she sighed, burying her face in her hands as you advanced toward her. "were you even going to tell me?" you whispered now, her head shooting up at the sudden change of tone.

"of course i was! i just...i didn't know how." she admitted guiltily, standing and trying to come toward you but you held your hand up in warning for her not to. "you didn't even tell me you were thinking about something like this, we tell each other everything." your voice cracked and with it so did alessia's heart at the look of utter betrayal splayed across your features.

"love-" "stop. don't fucking coddle me, explain." you forced out, letter still gripped tightly in your hand as you took another step back. "it's a four year scholarship to go play in the states. so long as i play with their junior team i can go to classes, live on campus and get my degree for free, and i get a hell of a lot of experience with a completely different style of football." she explained, a smile tugging momentarily at her lips, wiped right away at the look of disappointment on yours.

"i knew you wouldn't want me to go, or you'd try to talk me out of it." alessia admitted quietly, refusing to meet your eyes. "you what?" you managed out, shaking your head in disbelief. "i-" you started, trying to find the words.

"alessia i have always been your biggest supporter. i don't even like football but i go to every match, i make sure your kit bags got everything in it before you leave, i wear your jerseys, i let you kick balls at my head for years! you adore football. why on earth would you think i'd try to stop you from following that passion?" you frowned, shoulders slumping in defeat at her lack of faith in you.

"because it means we'd be apart for four years. don't even try to tell me you wouldn't have had an issue with that!" you were caught off guard at her sudden shift of tone, this one much more abrupt and sharp.

"don't try to project your guilt for not telling me into me being the reason why you didn't. that's not fair!" you shot back, alessia only shaking her head with a laugh. "you shouldn't have even been snooping around in the first place!" she snatched the letter off of you with a glare.

"snooping? i can see that offer is signed alessia, were you even going to tell me before you sent it off?" you asked with a hard stare, face falling as guilt flashed across her face momentarily. "you've already sent it." you realized quietly, her head hanging low all the confirmation you needed.

"wow." you breathed out, moving to sit down on the edge of her bed as you tried to come to terms with everything, feeling her sit down a few feet away from you. "when do you leave?" you whispered, feeling her eyes pierce into the side of your head but not having the heart to look up from the floor, the room starting to spin.

"two weeks."

your head did shoot up at that, alessia wincing at the anger, hurt, betrayal and disappointment clear as day in your features. "two fucking weeks. you didn't tell me and you leave in two weeks?" you breathed out, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes.

"i was going to i promise but i just...i thought it would make everything easier if we didn't-" alessia struggled with her words, tripping over herself as her fingers twitched and she rubbed her palms against her sweats.

"make what easier?" you caught on right away to what she meant, the room starting to feel awfully small as your chest tightened. and meeting your eyes alessia knew you knew what she meant. "everything." the blondes own eyes welled up with tears as you wiped at your face with the back of your arm.

"were you even going to tell me?" you asked, scarily calm as you stared her down, watching her wither underneath your piercingly angry gaze. "no." she admitted after a moment, burying her head in her hands, body wracking with quiet sobs as she began to break.

your legs buckled at that and your body fell to her floor with a small thump, your knees tucking into your chest as you curled into a ball. "so you were going to just leave and what? expect me to just...be okay with that?" you asked, unable to even wrap your head around any of this.

"you're going to college here, i'll be over there. it wouldn't have worked for four years and we both deserve to be able to make the best of this next chapter, i thought i was making it easier if we never had to say goodbye." alessia admitted quietly, both of you refusing to look at one another.

"never mind the fact i'm in love with you. i've been your best friend since we were five less, and you were going to just...get on a plane and leave me for four years without even telling me where you were going." you whispered, barely able to get your words out as red hot guilt flooded the blondes body.

"i was trying to make it easier."

"for who alessia? for you? by avoiding having to even tell me anything and just leaving me without a word? you're a fucking coward!" you almost screamed those last four words, chest heaving as you struggled to hold back a sob.

her silence told you everything you needed to as you broke down, your body convulsing as you sobbed into your hands, alessia covering her ears unable to handle the noise, tears rolling down her cheeks leaving a bitter salty taste in her mouth.

"get off me!" you spat out, shoving her off as she moved to sit down next to you, trying to wrap herself around you in a hug. "get off!" you yelled again, voice cracking as she shook her head, holding you firmly.

eventually she let go, collapsing into herself as you stood to your feet, vision blurry with tears as you stumbled around trying to collect your belongings.

"stop!" you sobbed as she hugged you from behind, yanking your bag out of your hands and dropping it on the floor. "don't leave me, please." she begged, voice no louder than a whisper as her face buried itself in your neck.

"i'm not the one leaving." you pushed her away, the force causing her to stumble as she caught herself and managed to stay standing. "you know now. we still have two weeks!" she tried, almost begging now as you scoffed.

"oh so i have two weeks to wait for you to break up with me? lucky me!" you spat venomously, trying to pick up your bag as alessia kicked it away. "we have two weeks we can spend together before i go. please! i made a mistake, a huge mistake. baby please i love you so much but-" her hands balled at your top, holding you against her.

"if you loved me you would have never lied to me about this. you would have told me the moment you even starting thinking about it! we could have talked it out! worked things out together! now i don't have a fucking choice and you don't understand how unfair that is alessia!" you pushed her harder and harder with every sentence until she smacked into the wall, blue eyes welled up with tears.

"baby please don't go! not like this!" she grabbed you again as you tried, wrapping her arms around you as you fought her furiously, hitting her over and over as her body shook with silent sobs but she refused to let go of you, feeling her tears drip down the back of your neck.

"i would have been okay if we were able to talk about this. if i had time to process this, to make plans with you, to talk about what it could have looked like for us and what we'd be when you were there. i would have supported you and this choice if you'd given me the chance." you finally broke free, stumbling away from her as you gestured between the two of you before furiously wiping at your eyes.

"but you didn't and you weren't going to. you're a liar and a coward and i can't believe i wasted so much of my life trying to show you i care for it all to mean nothing to you in the end. if you love me less, if you ever loved me, then you will do as you planned. you will get on that plane and you will stay out of my life. you're not my girlfriend, not even a friend would do what you just did to me." you wanted to say more, you wished you could find the words, you wished you could hit her again and scream that you hated her and mean every single word you just said to her.

but you didn't, you couldn't, you wished you could, it would have made it all easier.

you didn't allow her the luxury of a response, far too afraid of how easy it may have been for her to talk her way out of this, to lull you into a false sense of safety and security with sweet words and gentle intimate touches. to shower you with affection and quality time and praise, only to rip the rug right out from under you in just two weeks time.

so you left her before she could leave you, and you didn't turn once to look back.

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part six

#alessia russo x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #alessia russo #woso blurbs #woso imagine #engwnt #woso

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harrysdaydreams · 9 months

Text

Unsatiated

Summary- Reader finds herself in a low place and has shut out the one person she should know wants to help more than anything. Harry is more than happy to take care of her regardless, which leads to revelations on both parts

Slight angst that ends with fluff that turns suggestive

-Harrys hands gently tug at the hair tie that is somehow still hanging loosely in your hair, letting the tangled strands fall against your back.

He lets out a low whistle, to which you nudge him in the ribs with your elbow causing him to laugh quietly as he tries to separate the matted sections of your hair.

His fingers are soft and careful with your strands, and his use of the brush is even gentler, taking his time to properly ensure every piece of hair is free from knots. The delicate touch of his fingers brushing the back of your neck causes you to let out a gentle sigh, and you unintentionally sink back into his touch.

Word count- 4.3k

Tuesday. Even the word itself sounded mundane and miserable. Throw in some grey skies accompanied by pouring rain, it was a recipe for a shitty day.

Normally you’d crack open a window, light a candle and bask in the fresh sounds of the raindrops hitting the floor of the balcony to your flat.

But it was more than a bad day- the past week you’d been feeling at your lowest, with no real pinpoint as to why. It was hard to find motivation for anything, cooking a nice meal, going outside, reaching out to your friends- several who had messages in your phone left unread- it all just seemed too much.

So here you lay in bed at 1pm, the same place you’d been all day, minus bathroom trips and the tremendous effort it had seemed to have taken to make some instant noodles that still sat on your nightstand uneaten.

You turn over onto your front and sigh into your pillow, having lost count of how many times you’d done the same thing all morning.

Why did everything feel so heavy? This isn’t how you usually responded to feeling low, always opting for surrounding yourself with the people you knew could lift you out of any place, no matter the situation.

Being with people now was the last thing you wanted, especially in your home, with piles of laundry waiting to be washed and dishes to be cleaned.

Uncomfortable on your front, you opt to turn back onto your side, reaching for your phone on the nightstand with the intention of putting on some music to drown out the rain. Hopefully you’d find something that could pull you out of your mood- that or something that further fuelled your angsty state and could maybe push you to finally release the pent-up tears you were too frustrated to shed.

As you scroll through your playlists contemplating what tone to set as you continue rotting in bed for the rest of the day, a text notification pops at the top of your phone.

Harry.

You assume he’s probably double texting you with some sort of snarky message for not replying to your beloved best friend for over two days. Your heart sinks a little as you think of him, his contagious smile and warm personality.

You miss him, and thinking of him is enough to momentarily make you smile as you pull down the notification to read the contents of his message.

Harry- You really gonna leave all four of my messages on delivered? I’m hurt Bitsy, deeply hurt.

You smile at his obvious sarcasm and the stupid nickname he came up with 4 years ago after finding out you were exactly one year, one month and one day apart in age, him being the eldest. He played on the fact that you’re younger than him and ran away with it completely, always making jokes of how small and ‘young’ you are.

Another text notification brings you back from your reminiscing, a new message directly under the one you’d just read.

Harry- Really though, are you ok? The radio silence isn’t normal for you.

Your heart sinks again and you feel bad for leaving your closest friend worrying about you.

Harry- Usually I have to mute our text thread just for some peace..

For the first time in days, you laugh out loud, a genuine smile spreading on your face that crinkles the corner of your eyes.

You- Uhh, RUDE!

Harry- Ahhh she lives!

Fuck, the way he can change your sour demeanour in just a few short messages. You instantly feel stupid for shutting everyone out, especially him.

You- Alive and kickin’! Specifically, your ass for being so rude. I’m okay though, promise old man. Sorry if I made you worry!

Harry- I’ll await my ass kicking whilst shaking in fear. Miss you though. Want me to come over? We missed pizza night on Sunday because someone... lost her phone? Fell off the face of the earth?

The suggestion of him coming over fills you with dread and takes away all of the momentary relief and lift in mood you’d felt just from texting with him.

You could pretend you were okay to a degree over text, but if he came over, he’d take one look at you, or around your flat and know something was wrong. And you wouldn’t even be able to give him a definitive answer why.

You tap the back of your phone with your nails anxiously trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make him worry more, seeing as you rarely turned down an opportunity to hang out together.

You- Miss you too, H. Raincheck? I feel a migraine coming on. Love you!

Harry- Love you too, Bitsy. Feel better

Feeling guilty, you lock your phone and place it back on the nightstand and try to ignore the new ache in your chest.

Despite your efforts, you scrunch your eyes closed and finally feel the hot sting of tears trail slowly down your cheeks.

You feel terrible for lying to your closest friend, the catalyst to finally unleashing the breakdown that had been sitting inside of you for the past few days as nothing but frustration and restlessness.

Now though, full blown sobs wreck your body as you hug your pillow whilst simultaneously burying your face into it, muffling the sound of your whimpering. You lay like that for a while, your chest rising and falling with every whine and sorry moan.

Finally, you take a series of deep inhales and long exhales to steady your breathing in a vain attempt to calm down.

What the fuck is wrong with me? you think as you wipe the leftover tears from your cheeks, sitting up against the headboard of your bed.

You take a long sip of water from your nightstand to wash away the disgusting taste left in your mouth from your dramatic sobbing.

The ache in your chest feels duller and somewhat lighter after releasing the supressed tears that had previously left you feeling so suffocated.

Now though, the lesser anguish in your chest brings your attention to a new source of pain in your neck, and you curse yourself mentally for laying in bed all day to the point it resulted in making your body sore.

After giving in to the fact you really should move, you stretch your arms above your head and then lift away the duvet from your body, swinging your legs over the side of the bed to sit up properly before sliding on your slippers sat on the floor beside you.

As you go to stand up, you hear a key in the lock of your door and your heart jumps into your throat. You listen for moment longer as the hairs on the back of your neck stand up before realisation dawns on you.

“That fucker!” you whisper, discarding your slippers and leaping back under the duvet to feign being asleep.

Harry was the only person you’d ever given a spare key, so you could only assume his kind natured, stupid, perfect self, had gone out to buy you supplies to get you through your migraine and come to check on you. You should have known better than to lie to him about being sick.

The sound of the door softly closing tells you he’s now inside the flat, followed by him gently calling out your name. You squeeze your eyes shut tighter as your heart beats fast in your chest, trying helplessly to ignore your panic and relax your body in the hope to pass off as being genuinely asleep.

He knocks lightly on your bedroom door which is already propped open with a doorstop, and you hear the rustling of a bag that must contain the supplies he so thoughtfully brought to you. Your eyes sting with tears again, why does he have to be so good?

“Hey love, I’ve brought you some strong ass painkillers and some anti-sickness tablets. How are you feeling?” he asks in a quiet voice; you can detect concern in his tone and that alone makes you want to cry all over again.

You’re in half a mind to ignore him and pretend you’re in a deep sleep so he’ll leave but with the knowledge that he’s right there... that he’s in reach and he could hold you… maybe he could make it okay.

You breathe a shaky sigh and reluctantly open your eyes and sit up, sliding back against the headboard again as you look at him, a new kind of concern immediately washing over his features.

He rushes over to perch on the bed beside you, his pretty face painted with worry as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’ve been crying... is it that bad? Or...” he trails off, looking between your red, puffy eyes as if doing so would decode what was wrong. “Love, what is it? Talk to me”

He can see through your lie now, something you never do, which fills his own heart with heaviness. Ignoring the sting of knowing you lied to him, he awaits your answer, knowing not to press you if something was so wrong to the point you felt the need to mislead him.

So, he doesn’t prompt and push, instead he rubs your shoulder softly as he waits for a reply, his soft green eyes on yours, hopeful you’ll meet his gaze.

“M’not good, Har” you reply shakily, biting your lip to keep it from quivering because the last thing you wanted was to become a sobbing mess in front of him. You shake your head as you continue to look down, more damned tears dropping into your lap despite you willing them to stay away, your finger now absently trailing the wet droplets they leave on your leg.

“Hey, hey look at me.. look at me” he soothes gently, both of his hands now on your shoulders urging you to lift your head to meet his gaze again. You do so reluctantly, and he lifts one hand to cup your face and brush away the hot tears on your cheek.

He offers you a pained smile, one that clearly shows his care for you, but the warmth in his eyes as he scans over your face pushes you to wrap your arms around him, gentle sobs immediately leaving your body again.

He pulls you gladly into a tight hug as his hand reaches up to the back of your head and moves in soft strokes over your hair as you breathe in the scent that is so Harry, so... home.

His eyebrows knit together in response to the twist in his heart upon hearing you cry, feeling your body shake softly as the tears escape. He continues his soft stroking to the back of your head, wanting so badly to take whatever it is away, to make everything better.

“Shhh, I got you. M’not going anywhere. I got you” he soothes, squeezing his own eyes shut to try pull himself together so he can be there for you how you need him. “Wanna talk about it?” he asks, his voice soft in your ear and his hold on you still tight.

You shake your head as much as you can in his vice like grip.

“Wouldn’t even know what to say. Truly. I don’t know why I’m in such a rut.” you say honestly between sniffles. That was the most frustrating thing about the past week. There was no trigger, no cause.

Foolishly you shut yourself away, the answer to your problem being so obvious now you were in his company- in his arms. Your eyes prick again at the thought, that dull throb in your chest again making itself present.

“Feel better because you’re with me though- I shouldn’t have lied to you- I should’ve let you- shouldn’t have told you- I-” your rambling is cut off by Harry quietly shushing you and resuming his careful stroking of your hair. God, how does he make everything okay?

“Shh, I get it, s’okay… it’s okay. I got you, yeah? M’right here, always right here” he coos in your ear, and you nod your head fervently because of course you know.

Right here felt like the only place on earth. The best place on earth.

You both remain in silence like that for a while longer until Harry slowly pulls himself away from you, leaning back but keeping his hand firmly on your thigh, making a point of keeping some physical contact with you.

At last, you finally look at him properly, smiling awkwardly, a smile that he returns with that boyish, one-sided smirk of his that you’ve grown to love so much.

The comfortable silence between you both is complimented by the rain still hammering down outside.

You turn your head to glance out of the window at the thick droplets bouncing off the glass, then turn back to Harry, who has an amused expression on his face.

He’s the one giving you an awkward smile now, to which you return a puzzled look.

“What?” you ask suspiciously.

He brings his hand up to cover his smile, which is growing bigger by the second. He’s clearly trying not to laugh, but refusing to let you in on the joke, so you poke his ribs to further prompt him to answer.

“S’nothing” he laughs, to which you raise an eyebrow disbelievingly, causing him to laugh again.

You cross your arms whilst feigning an annoyed look, stubbornly waiting for him to kindly share whatever it is that he’s seemingly finding so funny.

“It’s just uhh, when- when was the last time you brushed your hair?” he asks sheepishly, clearly not wanting to embarrass you but finding your lack of effort appearance wise humorous.

Your hand instantly lifts to the messy bun that had initially been propped on the top of your head two days ago. By now it was hanging low at the back of your head, probably a matted mess.

You groan and hit him softly with the pillow behind you, and he raises his arms to defend himself, resuming his laughter as a reluctant smile makes its way onto your face.

“I mean, you look great, but uhh, hairbrushes… great inventions” he taunts, but you can hear his smile so clearly in his voice that it sends warmth through your chest.

“Funny.” you quip, kicking his knee with your socked foot. “please, continue making fun of my misery” you joke, and he holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“Okay, okay, I take it back” he laughs musically, and you purse your lips in a bashful pout, eyeing him fondly as he readjusts his position on the bed to sit cross legged in front of you.

The comfortable silence resumes, Harrys fingers absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles at your ankle.

“Seriously though, want me to brush your hair?” he asks, your heart fluttering at the gesture.

Honestly, the idea of having to brush your hair over the past two days was a task that had seemed entirely overwhelming, hence the state of your bun. And now that it was probably a matted mess, it was a job you were happy to give to someone else- someone who seemed to understand entirely instead of sitting here judging you.

You look down at your hands in your lap, half embarrassed before nodding your head.

“If you don’t mind.. thank you, H” you reply, giving him a grateful smile.

He returns it knowingly, standing to grab the hairbrush from your vanity and sitting back down. He motions with his hand for you to turn around with your back to him, which you do so obediently, feeling pre-emptively better knowing one basic self-care need was being taken care of.

Harrys hands gently tug at the hair tie that is somehow still hanging loosely in your hair, letting the tangled strands fall against your back.

He lets out a low whistle, to which you nudge him in the ribs with your elbow causing him to laugh quietly as he tries to separate the matted sections of your hair.

By the time Harry has completely detangled your hair you’re pressed flush against his back, not noticing he’d finished as he continues to stroke and run his hands through your hair. He observes you warmly, noting how your eyes have softly closed and your breathing has shallowed.

As much as Harry was loving the entire situation, mainly the fact he’d seemingly managed to calm you down and help you relax, his legs were going numb as hell and he needed to move you from your position that had you practically seated in his lap.

With a small squeeze to your shoulder, he breathes gently in your ear “M’done love. All done.”

You open your eyes, not even realising they’d closed, running your hand through your hair and revelling in how soft the stands now felt. You move away from Harry rather reluctantly, turning back to face him as he stands up from the bed.

“Thank you, Har. I- honestly I feel so much better, really.. thank you” you smile gratefully, your heart warm in your chest and full of such tenderness for your best friend.

You would never get over how truly wonderful he is.

“S’nothing, promise. I like helping you relax. Makes me feel good too” he confesses, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

You both exchange a look of fondness for each other, your eyes locking for an extended period of time. The exchange is warm, with a weight that is full of unsaid things but it’s also a look that needs no words- you both have a profound care for each other, that much has always been clear, but the longer you’re looking at him, the more your own gaze becomes one of longing.

Harry notices it too, his own eyes seeming to look deeper into yours as the warmth in them turns to something more heated.

You see it, you feel it, its thick in the air and you have to look away.

In return, Harry drops his eyes from your face and clears his throat as he fumbles with the hairbrush still in his hand.

He reaches to put it on the nightstand next to your forgotten pot of instant noodles which he picks up with a sigh. The mood instantly shifts back into one of playful friendliness as he holds them out to you with one eyebrow raised.

“This is what you’ve been eating?” he asks. “or not eating I should say. No wonder you’re so depressed” he jokes before walking out of the bedroom and into the open plan kitchen-living room, instant noodles in hand.

With him out of the room you place your head in your hands trying to calm down your thoughts and steady your heart rate. When did it start beating so quickly?

You’re brought out of your thoughts before you can even begin to overthink the look you’d both shared by the sound of the tap running from the bathroom down the hall from your room.

You step out of your bed and walk towards the source of the noise and are greeted by the sight of Harry running you a bath.

He notices you standing in the doorway and gives you a soft smile before walking over to you and gripping the sides of your arms gently.

“I’m gonna go get some real food while you take a bath, okay? I wont be long” he promises, pressing a parting kiss to your cheek before leaving, your heart quickening and heat rushing to your face.

You watch after him mindlessly, your fingers lifting to the spot he’d just kissed so casually, the feeling of his lips still lingering beneath your touch.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment, your hearing dulled, and sense of touch heightened, before a panicked instinct to check the running taps pulls you from your yearning trance.

You turn them off quickly, before removing your clothing and sinking into the soothing warmth of the water and willing it to wash you of these muddled feelings and flustered responses to Harry’s demeanour and affections.

You urge yourself not to overthink his kiss to your cheek, remembering all the times he’d kissed the top of your head whilst hugging you goodbye, usually always followed with some kind of joke about how he can only reach the top of your head so easily because you’re so much smaller than him.

“See ya later Bitsy” you recall his voice and think of how most of those situations ended. Warm but only friendly.

You sink beneath the water to wet your hair, dragging your hands over your face to wash away the grime from your face and along with it any thoughts of Harrys kiss being anything more than a friendly parting.

What you refuse to fully acknowledge is the way your heart leaps at the idea of it being more.

You finish bathing, before wrapping yourself in a towel, feeling so much better for being forced into taking care of yourself.

By the time you’re dressed in a fresh set of pyjama shorts and an oversized t-shirt, you leave your room to see Harry dishing up the food he left to retrieve.

He looks up from portioning a steaming bowl of ramen and gives you a warm, happy smile.

“You look like you’re feeling a little better?” he asks hopefully, to which you nod, returning his smile shyly.

“Much better, thank you. Mmmh, food smells amazing.” You sigh, reaching to grab the bowl he holds out for you before sitting side by side on the sofa.

You eat together in a relaxed silence, one that offers tender glances at each other and periodic laughs as you both try hopelessly to eat ramen noodles gracefully.

Harry finishes first, and you follow not far behind him before setting your bowl on the coffee table in front of you both.

You feel his eyes, on you but can’t force yourself to move your eyes from your hands in your lap. The silence suddenly feels heavy, you don’t even have to look at him to know his stare holds so much weight.

Its impossible to ignore. You feel it.

Your stomach is fluttering under his gaze and your mind is racing.

In an attempt to take the newly tense and awkward edge out of the silence that had now settled, you clear your throat, but it only draws attention to the tension that hangs thick in the air between you both.

You chance a look at him, his green eyes fixed on you with an expression you can’t read.

“Stop it” you whisper, not chancing your voice cracking.

His face is soft, but his brow is tense, his eye contact unwavering.

“Stop what?” he speaks softly.

You inhale slowly, your eyes closing before releasing a shaky exhale.

“Stop looking at me like that. I don’t know what it means” you say.

He leans closer, only slightly, but the growing intimacy of your proximity is enough to quicken your heart rate all over again.

“Looking at you like what, love?” he feigns innocence, his expression still just as achingly warm.

You can barely bring yourself to answer, still trying to convince yourself you must be misreading the entire situation, that he can’t be looking at you with this intense desire, so gently, so.. so..

“Longingly...” you whisper.

His expression softens, his eyes leaving yours to delicately trail over the features of your face, a soft sigh leaving his mouth as his focus stops at your lips before cupping his hand at your cheek.

“I can’t, love. Because I can’t tell you how long I have longed for this.” he whispers.

Your eyes shut tight at his confession, that familiar warmth radiating through your whole chest as the entire world seems to stop spinning again.

When you open your eyes, they threaten to spill over with tears, and Harry knowingly caresses the side of your cheek with his thumb.

You can’t breathe.

“Me too” you utter almost silently.

Your admission sparks the most beautiful, genuine smile you’ve ever seen Harry wear, and he touches his forehead to yours with his hand gently cradling the back of your head.

“Well, thank fuck for that” he jokes, and you laugh breathily before pulling back to finally meet his eyes with a new confidence.

He looks between each of your eyes before refocusing his gaze on your lips. Before you can even acknowledge the excitement blooming in your chest, his mouth is on yours.

And it’s soft. It’s slow. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

He pulls you into his lap and deepens the kiss, causing you to whimper into his mouth as your hands fist into his t-shirt, desperately trying to anchor yourself to him, not wanting to lose him now that you finally have him.

His hand moves from the back of your head, trailing down your back to gently cup your ass, your core clenching in utter desire in response.

He pulls away from the kiss breathlessly, his hand gliding softly beneath your t-shirt, caressing the skin of your stomach, up towards your ribs suggestively.

“I know you’ve spent all day in bed, love.” he breathes. “But would you mind if I took you back there?”

Your head dizzies with a new lust. You scan over his face as he pulls you down against his lap almost desperately, his expression showing nothing but his adoration and unsatiated need for you.

And now, you can think of anywhere else you’d rather be.

“..yes please.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry #harry edward styles #harry styles smut

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foodffs · 5 months

Photo

This delicious Beef Birria Recipe is a flavor-packed, slow-cooked beef stew made with chuck roast and short ribs simmered with guajillo chiles, garlic, onions, fire-roasted tomatoes, and fresh cilantro. Seasoned with chilies and warm spices like cinnamon, cumin, paprika, and cloves, this dish is sure to make your taste buds dance.

#submission

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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

Note

Ok for the smutty blurbs, I need a “needy Steve” maybe he’s been apart from the reader for too long but when they first see each other they have to get through a family dinner first so it just drags it out that little bit longer and the boy is desperate… but in the sweetest way. Lots of kisses and nose nudges 🫠🫶🏻

18+

It had been just over two weeks since you’d seen Steve, the last kiss shared on your driveway, chaste and parent appropriate before you drove off with your family, heading for a reluctant vacation in Palm Springs.

You’d spent most of your time by the pool, head hidden in a book, skin warmed by the sun and your thoughts completely occupied by the boy you’d left behind. It would’ve been pathetic if you hadn’t returned to be greeted by your boyfriend who’d clearly missed you just as much.

Steve had been at your front door before you had managed to get your suitcase up the stairs, a grin on his lips that made his face light up, eyes bright and trained on you even when your father opened the door.

He was half forced into an impromptu dinner with your parents, pizza boxes stacked on the kitchen island that everyone picked at as he politely as your mother how she enjoyed California, and did your dad get a chance to play much golf?

It was hard to keep up with the conversation, to follow the topic when all you could do was watch the way Steve’s lips moved when he spoke, how he licked over them after every sip of lemonade, how you knew he’d taste like citrus and mint when you finally got him alone. And he stared at you across the kitchen like he knew, like he was just as desperate to get his hands on you as were, like he knew how much you’d missed him, like he was intent on proving that he’d missed you even more.

But he was too polite, offering to do the dishes for your mom as she fawned over him, chattering about lasagna recipes and could he ask his friend Eddie to look at her car exhaust?

Maybe it was only twenty minutes, maybe it was an hour. But it felt like another two weeks before your parents left to visit the neighbours for some wine, before you were able to drag your boyfriend up your staircase, feet tripping over each other as you barrelled into your bedroom.

The bed bounced as you fell onto it, cool sheets crushed underneath overheated skin, Steve immediately holding himself over you so he didn’t squish you. But you spread your legs for him, urged him into the cradle of your hips so he could rock down into you, rolling and grinding just to show you how hard he was.

Desperate, needy, on edge.

“Babe, baby,” Steve whispered, cheeks all pink and lashes fluttering. He looked dizzy as he gazed down at you, lips catching yours in a kiss that was achingly soft. “Missed you, shit, y’got no idea. Need you so fuckin’ much.”

You wanted to tell him that you did know, that you missed him the same, maybe more. But Steve ducked his face to yours, nose nudging against your own in a gesture that was awfully sweet. You breath hitched, cheeks warming at the touch, chin tilting up in search for another kiss.

“Steve, please.”

It went on like that, clothes shed with an urgency you hadn’t experienced before, shorts on the floor, bra hanging from the bedpost, Steve’s shirt lost to the mess of your half unpacked suitcase. His hands were everywhere, all consuming in the best way, rough and warm and running up and down your ribs before they were spreading your thighs and teasing at your folds.

He hissed and swore at the slick he found, the warm wetness that made his eyes roll back. He played with you until you were whining, glassy eyed and gasping at the way Steve couldn’t stop his cock nudging up against your hip, leaking and too hard, the roll of skin on skin making his breath come in short pants.

It was easy to give him what he wanted, easy to pull him back into your arms and wind your hands into his hair as he slid into you. And just for a moment, the desperation stilled, just for a little while. The wet, hot heat of you making Steve sigh, the stretch of his cock making you keen. He found you again, his nose nuzzling against yours, the smile on his face lazy and soft, the rock of his hips against yours sending electricity up and down your spine.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington one shot #steve baby blurb

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tvgals · 1 year

Text

- SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY !

- the mha boys being ur big himbo country husband !!

cw- black! reader, y’all both grew up in the country somewhat, this is self indulgent srry (especially katsuki’s)

- IZUKU MIDORYIA

imagine him doing work on the farm w his hair js drenched and oil on his arm

“sweetheart? i have lemonade!” you beam, bringing out a tray of two lemonades for you and your hardworking husband. “hey darlin’. your dress looks real nice.” izuku compliments, wiping his forehead of the building up sweat.

“well thank you!” you grin, handing izuku a lemonade and plopping down right next to him. “been workin’ hard. gotta get stuff right for you nd our lil’ youngin’.” coo’d your green haired husband, a reassuring hand resting on your belly. “i know, and i’m so proud of you.” you whisper, kissing izuku on his temple.

- KATSUKI BAKUGO

he’s the cutest

he loves using your grandmas recipes

“whatcha bakin’, baby?” you ask, wrapping your hands around katsuki’s biceps. “peach cobbler. you said you missed the way your grandma made it.” katsuki replied, a sweet smile on his face. you grin, you can only reminisce when your grandma would tell you and your thirsty cousins you’d have to wait until the rest of the family got there to eat a slice, the nostalgia hitting like a truck.

“yeah?” you say, the smell of peaches hitting your nose, but you know you’d have to wait a while to experience it best. “yep. only for my pretty wife.” katsuki turns around and kisses your forehead, holding you close.

-EJIROU KIRISHIMA

he’s so

he’s such a husband

he loves you

“cmon love bugs,” says eijirou, shaking you and your four year old son awake. “needa’ get y’all up, got stuff to do.” you groan, rolling to face your beefy husband. “i’m up..” you whine, rubbing your glossy eyes. “sure you are.” kirishima teases, pressing a kiss onto your nose. he then gets up and walks into the kitchen to start breakfast. “wake up babes..” you rub your sons back, trying to wake him up.

“what ya want for breakfast, honey?” kirishima comes back, standing in the doorway with this apron on. “i already have those strawberries in the freezer from last night, could have some of those, biscuits, rice, and eggs?” kirishima asks, smiling at you and y’all’s son. “that’s fine. thank you baby.” you grin. “anything, precious.”

- SHOTO TODOROKI

he’s such a family man

he loves family gatherings where he can cook on the grill

“shoto’s outside cookin’ the ribs.” you direct your mom, she’d asked ‘where was shoto?’ just so she could ask him all about you two’s relationship. (like the two of you aren’t already married) the rest of your family fawns over shoto any chance they get. they love the way he carries himself, the way he treats you and your family.

“baby?” shoto calls from the deck outside, you weave your way through the mix of you two’s family (mostly yours) and walk up to shoto. “yes?” you reply. only to get a soft kiss as a response. “i love you.”

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ruesyblues · 2 years

Text

Damian doesn’t like fish.

He tolerates the meat that is served at the manor most nights, even though it sits heavily and unpleasantly in his stomach. He puts up with Shepherd’s pie and spaghetti bolognaise and pork ribs, because the others seem to love it, singing praises for Alfred’s cooking every night, and Damian doesn’t want to appear ungrateful, or unusual, or out of place.

Then one night Alfred makes steamed fish, cooked in lemongrass and ginger, drizzled with soy sauce.

“I’ve noticed you don’t exactly enjoy our usual meals,” he says, and before Damian can protest, continues, “I looked up this recipe for you, I hope you’ll like it.”

Damian doesn’t like fish.

“Thank you,” he says, and then eats every bite. Alfred seems genuinely pleased and it fills him with warmth, which makes up for the way his stomach curled at the unpleasant texture.

Damian learnt to cook at a young age.

He was always busy, with lessons and training, his grandfather always pushing him to do more, to do better. Sometimes in the evening, however, he would follow his mother to the kitchen, where she would chop onions, fry spices in oil, and roll out rotis, getting flour in her pinned-back hair.

“Why do you cook?” he asked her, “You don’t have to.”

His mother laughed. “I like to,” she said, “Do you want to try rolling the roti?”

His first attempt came out uneven and oddly pentagonal, nothing like the perfect circles his mother made. She still ate it, and told him that it was the best roti she’d ever had.

Damian learnt to cook at a young age.

He also learnt that love was when someone made you a food you didn’t like and you ate it anyways and loved it, because you loved them.

His mother came back from Delhi once and brought him jalebis. “They were your favourite when you were younger,” she said.

Damian was eight now, and didn’t like the heavy, syrupy sweetness of jalebis anymore. But his mother was holding the gold-patterned box that she’d brought just for him, her hand resting gently in his hair, and he could feel a warmth rising up inside him, feeling like it would choke him if it got too big. He would have eaten a thousand jalebis to feel like this all the time.

Damian doesn’t understand a lot of things.

“Sorry I’m late, Alfred,” Richard says breathlessly. “I brought ice cream?”

Damian doesn’t hear Alfred’s reply, but it makes Richard laugh. There are footsteps, and then Richard enters the living room where they’ve all gathered, looking wind-blown and ruffled but delighted to see all his siblings together. Damian knows how rare it is for all of them to gather in the manor, and he appreciates the opportunity to spend time with his family.

“What kind of ice cream did you get?” Drake asks.

“Mint chocolate chip,” Richard replies, and there’s a general cheer of appreciation through the room.

“My favourite,” Stephanie declares.

Richard grins, and comes around the sofa to give her a hug from behind. “That’s why I got it.”

Damian hates mint chocolate chip. He’d told Richard that once, when they were up on a rooftop after a night of patrol, expressing his disgust for the mismatched flavours at great length while Richard laughed. “How could anyone hate mint chocolate chip?” he’d asked with an exaggerated gasp of offence, but he’d seemed amused.

Damian loves Richard more than he’s loved anyone in his life. If Richard brings him mint chocolate chip ice cream, then Damian will love it too.

Alfred comes into the room with a tray laden with bowls, each filled with that brown-speckled green concoction. Damian waits for his, but when Alfred reaches him, he unearths a bowl of vanilla and hands that to Damian instead.

Damian stares at it. He’s so surprised that he barely remembers to thank Alfred.

“I got vanilla for you,” Richard tells him, as he settles into the couch next to him with a contented sigh. He grins. “I remember how much you hate mint chocolate chip.”

Damian doesn’t understand a lot of things.

He knows the way Richard’s arm curls around his shoulders, however, and the way his grip tightens slightly as Damian leans into him, watching the others bicker over what movie they’re watching. Damian eats his vanilla ice cream, that Richard got specifically for him, and feels that familiar warmth.

It feels like love.

#damian wayne #robin #dick grayson #nightwing #talia al ghul #alfred pennyworth #headcanon #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #fluff #dc #batman #bat family #batfam #dick and damian #rue's queues

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friendsoup · 5 months

Note

HEYYY I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE MEDI IM SOBBING AAAA- could you write something with medi getting hurt in some way, and reader patches them up? :>

Boo-Boos

Recipe: Not strictly romantic, Medi is implied to have romantic feelings for reader, Reader's feelings are up to you, Medi x Reader, GN! Reader, APPle and Regulus ship it, Clumsy! Reader, Oblivious! Reader, Medi is a tsundere. Sorry.

WC: 1,351

Chef's Note: SOOOO.... I may have read this prompt wrong the first time.... So you get the best of both worlds! Medi patches up reader, and then reader patches up Medi! I hope you enjoy!

You always manage to get in the worst situations. Perhaps it was because you’re naturally clumsy. Or maybe it was just due to dumb luck. Whatever the case, tragedy always seemed to befall you. Whether it be knocks to the head, tripping over nothing, or scars you had no clue the origins of. Today was no different. You were on patrol, fighting critters for the timekeeper, when your legs got twisted with each other, and you fell. You were lucky that your teammates covered your slack, though you’d managed to get quite the hefty scrape on your chin. Not that it bothered you, though. You’d suffered greater scrapes and bumps in your time, and were convinced you’d be fine on your own. Regulus was the one to change your mind on that. “You’ll be no use to us if your wounds are all infected!” She argued, as the two of you walked back to the suitcase. “You should go see Medicine Pocket! They’re a doctor!” “I’m sure just a few bandaids will cover me.” You said, rubbing the back of your neck. “Does it really look that bad?” “You’re bleeding!” Regulus exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “If you get sick, then your chores will fall onto my shoulders!” You laughed at that. Though she was right. Getting sick was a good way to throw off the entire balance of the team, and you didn’t want to be a burden to the timekeeper.a

“Besides, if you go see Medi, you might get some special treatment.” She elbowed you in the side, the action only shooting more pain up your ribs. “What do you mean by that?” You asked, your eyebrows drawing up in genuine confusion.

Regulus just stood there for a moment, stunned that you didn’t understand her words.

“What the Captain is meaning to say, is that Dr.Medicine Pocket is awfully fond of you.” APPle pipes up, floating behind the two of you. “Perhaps, if you are to visit their room, they can provide you with a better experience than our other healers can.”

“Medi is fond of me?” You ask, blinking. “No way! They’re always so mean…” That simply earns a groan out of Regulus, who shakes her head. “God, you’re just like Vertin! I can’t stand it sometimes!” “You should visit Dr.Medicine Pocket anyways, and confirm for yourself.” APPle encourages. You nod. If even the reasonable APPle agrees, then perhaps there’s some merit in what Regulus is saying.

And so, you make your way through the suitcase, down to Medicine Pocket’s laboratory. It’s quite easy to find, following the sounds of dog’s barking and the sterile smell of medical equipment. It’s a path you’ve walked before, many times. “Medi, are you here?” You call from the doorway. Instinctively, you rub at your chin, cringing when you glance back at your hand. That’s a lot of blood. “Yeah, yeah, I’m in the middle of something. Can you come back-” They dismissively wave to you, before looking up from their work. “Holy fuck!” “Haha! Hi!” You smile and wave. “[Y/N]. What the fuck did you do?” They hiss, standing from their seat and making their way over to you. They grab you by the shoulders, pulling you into their room, before pushing you down on the examining table. “I tripped!” You explain. “Down a fucking cliff? You look like shit!” Medi shakes their head, digging through their supplies. They return with a handful of cotton balls, alcohol wipes, and bandages. “Just on some pavement. I did slide a bit though, which is probably why I look so rough.” You admit, glancing somewhere else. Anywhere but Medi’s disappointed look.

“Fucking dumbass.” They sigh, pulling on new gloves, before picking up a cotton ball with tweezers. “You’ve got to be careful.” They bend to your height. Muttering a quiet,”Lift your chin now.” Their breath hot on your cheek. You obey, feeling a bit flustered with how close they are to you. Gently, they dab the cotton on your wound, soaking in the blood and wiping it away. It feels weird against your skin, both soft and cold. The intensity of Medi’s gaze makes your heart speed up, which you pray they can’t notice.

“I try!” You protest, squirming slightly in your seat. “It’s just difficult. Y’know? These things happen without me trying!” Medi grumbles something inaudible before responding. “It doesn’t seem like you’re trying, when you come into my office nearly every day with a new injury. I have important work to do, y’know? I can’t spend all my time with you.”

“Sorry.” You mutter, feeling a great sense of guilt fill you. Medi grumbles something else, before wiping down your wound and sticking a bandage on it. With that done, they get up and begin working on something else, completely leaving you alone.

…

A month has passed, and the two of you haven’t spoken a great deal since your accident. You’ve been managing to handle yourself, and Medi has been too busy with work to come out of their shell. However, the two of you are now on patrol, preparing the last things for the Storm.

Medi walks ahead while you trail behind, your mind wandering in the other direction. Neither of you say a word, you haven’t since you left the suitcase. You don’t particularly mind though, the silent walk is nice. Medi stops suddenly in their tracks, their eyes focusing on something else. You, who’s attention is far away from what’s in front of you, don’t notice, continuing to walk forward. You bump into Medi, and they trip while trying to steady themselves, falling on their knees. “Ow! Shit!” They hiss, scrambling to a sit. You jump back, trying to comprehend what just happened. “Ah! Medi!” You exclaim, dropping to a kneel besides them. “Fuck, I’m sorry! Are you okay?” “I’m fine, asshole.” They cradle their knee, wiping a bit of blood from their scrape. “I have bandages in my lab. I’ll fix it myself-” “I can help!” You argue, digging through your pockets. Out come a crumpled bandaid, and a package containing an alcohol wipe. “Here- I have these! Let me help!” Medi blinks. “Since when did you start caring about first aid?” They ask tilting their head. “Well, last time I showed up at your office, you seemed a bit mad! So I learned how to clean and bandage my own scrapes, so I wouldn’t bother you again!” You respond, giving a smile. “Now, roll up your pant leg, I’ll clean the wound.” Medi obeys, though they seem lost in thought. “Oh.” Their voice is a bit forlorn, as they glance away from you. You fiddle with the packaging of the alcohol wipe, completely oblivious to their expression. “You know I don’t mind you stopping by every once in a while.” “What was that?” You ask, pressing the wipe to the scrape. Medi nearly jumps out of their skin. “That’s not how you’re supposed to do it! God damn it, that stings! And here I am, trying to have a moment with you! Fuck!” “Uh. Sorry.” You mutter, removing the wipe from their skin. “I’ll just put the bandage on now.” Guilt fills your chest. You didn’t mean to make them worse.

“No, I…” Medi sighs. “Thank you for your help. You saved me some supplies.” They rub the back of their neck, struggling to focus their eyes on you.

The smile returns to your lips. “Oh! I forgot to do one last thing!” You exclaim, after smoothing the bandage out on their skin. You press a quick kiss to the top of the bandaid. “All better!” Medi jumps again, this time to their feet. Their face is tomato red, their eyes frantically looking back and forth. “I-I think we should call it here!” They exclaim, letting out a nervous laugh. “I’ve got lots to work on, y’know? And Vertin is only going to sponsor me so long without any progress!” They turn around, and begin to run off, leaving you sitting there. Confused. What did you do this time?

#x reader #reverse 1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #Medicine Pocket #Medicine Pocket x reader #Medicine Pocket x you #Medicine Pocket reverse 1999 #fanfic #reader insert #Let's Make Friend Soup!#Order Up!

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forgeofthenine · 7 months

Text

Random NSFW headcanons about Zevlor

I was trying to work today and all I could think about was this man and what he's like in bed, so now I'm sharing it with everyone else. I have more headcanons about both him and Dammon if people want them.

General NSFW under the cut, all of its pretty tame but let me know if I need to put up a content warning

So, to start off with, no one out there not even Larian can convince me that Zevlor doesn't have experience. This man is at least twice my age and quite literally hot as hell. Unfortunately though, during and after the fall of Elturel into Avernus, I just don't think Zevlors even had time to think about personal pleasures like that. It's hard to get laid when your group of refugees keep trying to win a speedrun of the fastest ways to die in Faerun.

It might take a while to finally bed this man, but when you do it's well worth the effort. Zevlor is such a gentle lover in all respects, including sex, and he always makes your pleasure a priority. He's the kind of guy to forget all about himself because he's so focused on trying to get you off.

As for kinks, body worship is a big one. He loves to worship your body, no matter how you look. It's all soft kisses and gentle caresses over any skin that's revealed to him. The little murmurs of praise muffled against you are so precious, and darling Zevlor will spend hours reminding you what you mean to him if you don't stop him sooner.

Worship him too, let him know how much you love his body. It's so worth it. Tell Zevlor how strong he is, how much you appreciate the way he protects you, call this man handsome. The way his brow furrows at first before he melts under your combined words and touch is a sight to see. Kissing over each and every infernal ridge and bump he has while saying this is a sure way to bring Zevlor right to the edge.

Speaking of his infernal traits, I can see him worrying somewhat if his partner isn't also a tiefling, for the first time at least. Mostly because those infernal traits definitely spread to tieflings dicks too-

Zevlors not small by any means, he's particularly girthy and anyone would need a bit of prep and warming up before they take him, but the best part are the ridges. You know how some sex toys advertise themselves as 'ribbed for her pleasure' and such? They're just describing Zevlors cock. Like all male tieflings, the entire length has small but noticeable ridges and bumps, and the head seems to come to a slightly more tapered tip than usual.

Despite how he warns you that his stamina isn't what it used to be, don't be fooled, Zevlor will happily fuck you until you both see stars.

Afterwards, when you're all tired and happy while lying against his chest, is one of the only times you'll hear him purr. It's such a deep, low baritone you feel it more than you hear it, but it's there nonetheless. That, mixed with his fingers brushing up and down your bare skin, is a sure fire recipe for sleep.

Overall, Zevlor is one of the best lovers out there. Attentive, sweet, and with killer anatomy, who could pass up such a catch? I'd literally kill for this man-

#bg3 smut #baldurs gate 3 smut #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 zevlor #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #zevlor x tav #zevlor x you #bg3 x reader smut #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader

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wingedjellyfishflight · 2 months

Text

Hunting Trip

"Have you even ever been hunting?" Ghost opens his mouth. "Animals, not people." His jaw snaps shut. "Yes, you can come with, but it's not like a mission. And you have to be nice. My dad and my brothers will be with us all week."

"I will play nice with your family, promise," he says, smirking down at you.

"I don't believe you when you say it like that, but I know it's the best I will get. You should be excited, though. I pulled really good tags. Moose, elk, and a black bear. I was not expecting the moose, or else I wouldn't have gone for the other two, but I can't turn down moose." He happily listens to you chatter away about the upcoming trip, your eagerness palpable.

"What will you do with the meat? And furs?" He doesn't really care, but he wants to listen to you talk.

"Oh, we have a guy that cuts it all up, and I'm old friends with a taxidermist. If I had more time, I would cut it up myself, but Captain said he can only give me one week, so butcher it is."

"Wait, wait, wait! You know how to cut up an animal? Why are you so bad at using knives in the field?"

"I hate using it against people. It's... too similar," you say with a small shudder before focusing back on the mission.

You catch a military flight back home three weeks later. You spend the trip curled up in the webbing and trying your best to nap after the week you had. Barely had time to clean up from the mission before you ran to the tarmac. Somehow, Ghost made it there long before you. Must be excited, you think, smiling up at the big guy.

Wrapping your arms around your dad and your big brothers doesn't feel like home, you realize with a pang. Not now that you are across the pond with the team. Price's gruff hug after a mission feels more comforting. Of course, part of it may be the glares they are shooting the "strange man" who walked in the door with you.

Introducing him isn't a disaster, per say, but for some reason, they had assumed you were bringing a woman when you told them a friend was tagging along. Luckily, tags haven't sold out since they assumed a woman friend wouldn't actually want to hunt, and you are able to get an elk tag for Ghost.

Your brothers mock him for living in a country without guns. The ribbing ends when he takes the rifle he is given apart for a thorough cleaning before putting it back together in record time. You know he is showing off and you also know that you won't have to clean the guns by yourself this year, which is a relief as your brothers and dad never seem to remember to clean them.

Your oldest brother talks about the moose he is going to get and the recipes he is going to make with it. You congratulate him on drawing a moose tag, too. He stares at you for a long moment before saying that he will be filling your tag and keeping the meat since you won't be able to take it all back.

"News to me. I got special permission and certification to bring back everything. I will be filling my tags and keeping what I get." Your brother looks like he's been slapped and opens his mouth to argue, but your dad steps in.

"Enough. You were supposed to ask, not make assumptions. She will be keeping what she kills, just as we have always done in this house."

The next morning, you wake up to see Ghost sitting and waiting in the chair next to your bed in the dark. The two of you sharing a bed had been an argument and a half the night before. It had only ended when you threatened to leave and stay at a hotel. You're more than capable of platonic sleeping, and you are old enough not to need to put up with their shit. It's still another two hours before the rest of the house will wake and three before you leave for hunting camp.

"Run?" You ask Ghost sweetly.

"Run," his deep voice responds. You manage good time, clocking in several miles before heading home, showering, and making breakfast. The bacon is finishing just as your dad ambles into the kitchen, dressed to go and yawning, but a smile on his face when he sees you cooking in the kitchen.

"You're up early, dear. Didn't need you to make breakfast for everyone," he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Oh, I didn't. Bruvs are on their own. Asshats kept opening my door to look in last night. They're gonna oversleep, I'm sure," you say with a frustrated smile. Your dad chuckles and claps a hand on Ghost's shoulder in good spirits.

"Ready to put in some miles, son? Could be a long day."

"Lamb warned me. We did a short run so we wouldn't be too worn out be day's end," Ghost says politely. You shoot him a glare at the use of your nickname.

"Yeah, so we-" you try to interject.

"Lamb? Like what? Lamb to slaughter? That doesn't sound..." Your dad flounders on what to say.

Before you can salvage it, Ghost jokes, "More like a lamb sending men to slaughter. Your daughter can hold her own in the field." Your elbow to his side doesn't even slow him down.

"Field? You are consulting in the field now? It's too dangerous to be around all those amped up men, sweetie," your dad admonishes you gently as the three of you sit to eat a quick breakfast.

"Just sometimes. You know how much I love my desk, dad. If I didn't work out with Ghost, I'd get fat," you joke. You know your dad is skeptical, but he worries enough without knowing the true nature of your work. You miss the glance the two men exchange. Breakfast finished, you rope Ghost into loading the last of the gear with you, trying to keep him away from your dad.

It's only minutes before time to leave when you see your brothers stumbling out of the house to the truck. You make sure to sit between your middle sibling and Ghost. Annoyingly, your brother manspreads, squishing your legs over despite your protests. Ghost is nice enough to let you rest your legs against his, giving you a little more room. At least it's only a few hours to hunting camp. You made sure to bring your own tent and gear, so you and Ghost will be cozy the entire trip. You knew from the start that you didn't want your family to see your newly acquired scars, especially the burns on your back from last year's incident. Roasted pork had been permanently removed from your menu after that one.

"So, you two fuckin or what?" Your middle brother asks out of the blue about an hour into the trip.

"Or what," is your flat answer. No matter which is true, you're not one to kiss and tell.

"You ever hunted an elk before, boy?" You grimace at your brother's terrible mouth filter.

"Not elk, no," comes the answer from your other side.

"Oh, sheep? Antelope?" You try to intervene, but you're not fast or loud enough to drown out Ghost's answer.

"People." The rest of the ride is mercifully silent with your brothers seemingly absorbed in staring out the windows.

Reaching camp, you and Ghost work as a well-oiled machine. After so many months and especially after the time spent together in the last month in the field, you work silently and smoothly. You help your dad set up their tent, your brothers gearing up already to hunt instead. Between the three of you, camp is set in record time. Your dad begs off hunting, claiming he is going to take a nap after the early morning and long drive there.

Having pre-selected your hunting areas as a safety measure, the two of you set off into your designated zone. You let your brothers pick what they considered the prime area, hoping they would bag out early and give you time to fill your own tags. Luck is in the chilly air, though, as you see sign of a black bear not far from the trailhead. Stalking it, you realize it is stalking a herd of elk itself.

Setting up a shot can be difficult. It's even more so when you are hunting a predator. When you shoot your bear, Ghost takes down a big bull elk, too. You send him back to camp to grab your dad and get the animals ready to move. Your dad switches off with both of you to help pull the game back. You load them in the back of the truck and hug both of them excitedly, happy with the quick start to the trip. Two tags done and two to go. Your brothers have no such luck, and they are less than thrilled with your first day success.

You almost laugh when your brothers corner you later, demanding answers. "How could you bring someone like him?!" Your oldest brother is indignant.

"It's not like I work with fucking girl scouts. What did you think spec ops guys do?"

"You never said-" your brother starts.

"I said he was a coworker. The fuck do you think that means, idiot."

"All you do is push papers, course we assumed he did the same," your younger brother interjects.

"Whatever. He's here now. Deal with it and stop being rude to him," you growl out.

The next morning, you get up early and drive into the local butcher to drop off the elk and bear. You come back and set off on an all-day scout to find a moose. You find mostly older evidence of them around, but also spot another elk herd and sign of deer. Your brothers get one deer between them, and they celebrate as if it was a world record animal.

The third day, you roll out of bed antsy. "Run?" Ghost asks with a grin. "Run," you answer easily. This time, you push nearly ten miles before calling it quits. Coming back, sweaty, and flushed gets your brothers riled up. Your response is simple. "Keep your hair on, lads. We just went for walkies. Haven't been getting enough exercise in and eating too well with dad feeding us."

They both bristle at your casual use of British slang and storm off to hunt again, unwilling to even talk to you. Your dad shakes his head. "They'll never see anything crashing around like that."

"Nope. Dad, you take our section today. We are going to push further up and try to glass a moose, and we saw some good elk out our way." By the end of the day, you're tired, but you did find fresh sign, which is encouraging. Just as your dad had predicted, your brothers didn't see anything all day. Your dad, on the other hand, had opted to be picky and didn't take any shots, but saw many animals.

Day four, you decide not to go for a run. It could be a tiring day if you get a moose and have to haul it down. With that in mind, you stage extra gear partway up to be able to move a moose back to camp more easily. You finally glass the moose you've been tracking near mid-day, getting eyes on it for the first time. It's a huge bull, well over the minimum horn size. Your hands shaking slightly, you take the shot. The bull goes down after just a few steps. Processing it takes longer than any other game you've done, but with Ghost helping, you get back to camp not long after dark. Your brothers managed to shoot an elk today, and you celebrate with them, happy that they are happy.

That night, you wake up to a hand pressed to your mouth and a gentle voice shushing you in your ear. Another nightmare, you realize. Your whimpers had woken Ghost, and he covered your mouth before the screams started that would have woken up the entire camp. You thank him with a shaky voice, and he moves his sleeping bag next to yours, wrapping around you. It's what the team has done for months when in the field as a warm body next to yours staves off the screaming and whimpering. Though it doesn't help with the nightmares themselves.

You get up extra early and drop the game off at the processor before heading back to camp. Today is your last chance to fill tags if you want to bring the meat back, so you move fast tracking an elk herd. It takes most of the morning, but you manage to find them and drop a good-looking bull. Hauling it back, you are elated to have filled all of your tags in time.

When you reach camp, you see that your dad has finally gotten his deer, but your brothers were empty-handed again. They complain about not seeing anything. Unable to help yourself, you say, "Maybe if you didn't sound like a pair of trucks crashing through the woods, you'd see something." This sets them off. They think you are making shit up, again, and talking down to them.

You decide they are a lost cause at this point, but Ghost offers to show them a few tricks on moving silently through the forest. He jokes that he isn't as good as you, but he's good enough.

"That's just because she doesn't move. She just sits there waiting for someone else to do the work." Ghost just shakes his head, knowing he can't tell them any stories. Your dad watches you closely, realizing that there is something more going on here, but unable to pinpoint exactly what that something is.

The next morning, Ghost goes with your eldest brother, and you take your middle sibling into your section. You hope that separating them will help increase their chances of filling tags. Your brother pays closer attention than you'd thought he would, and his walking quiets tenfold. He keeps trying to talk to you until finally you snap at him.

"Please shut up. You can talk after you shoot something." Mercifully, he is quiet. You spot the elk herd you've been tracking and move him to set up the shot. He tries to silently argue about where to move to, but you glare until he follows your directions. He settles in and nearly spooks the herd, stepping on a stick as he shifts his body around. Thinking quickly, you almost perfectly imitate a young bull's call, which settles the cows and brings the bull closer to where the two of you are standing, looking for the challenging bull. Your brother successfully takes the shot. And he is ecstatic, whooping and hollering as the cows all take off into the surrounding forest, leaving you far behind.

You help your brother break the bull down for packing out. He looks a lot nervous at the size of one of the packs, clearly not looking forward to carrying it out, until you shoulder it easily. His surprise doesn't surprise you, though. Your brothers hadn't paid much attention to you after they moved out, and basically, none once you enlisted in the military. Upon reaching camp, you find that you are the first ones back. You help him load the elk into the back of the truck and make lunch silently. He looks like he wants to say something, but he never gets it out of his mouth. He spends the time simply standing around, thinking hard and barely interacting with you, though he is watching you closely.

When you hear heavy footsteps coming through the woods, you hurry to meet your dad, helping him drag his big elk back to camp. "Surprised you hauled it back yourself, old man," you tease.

"I've been dragging elk out of the woods for twice as long as you've been alive, girlie." The grin on his face couldn't be matched though when you load it up by yourself, waving him off. The last to return were not successful. It seems your older brother decided that he would show Ghost a thing or two and refused any advice or tips. Thus, he didn't see anything all day. You shoot a look of sympathy at Ghost. That couldn't have been easy to handle silently. He just rolls his eyes back at you, tapping his fingers on his thigh. You tap your fingers back at him and go back and forth in Morse Code. He tells you about how many deer your brother missed seeing sign of or scared off because he wouldn't shut up.

You share how your other brother did, and he smiles at the success you had with him. He tells you that you should take your older brother for one last morning hunt on the sixth day. Maybe you can make him shut the hell up.

Sighing out loud, you say, "Bro, I'll take you out tomorrow morning instead of Ghost. We will get your tag filled." Your brother agrees and mentions that he will show you how it is done, which makes everyone laugh at him.

"Bruv, we are filling your tag. I filled all of mine already. Seems I need to show you how it's done."

He sputters, and your younger brother adds, "It took us just two hours to find a herd of elk. She knows what she's doing, bro. Better hunter than me, for sure." This makes your oldest brother glower, but he finally shuts up.

In the morning, he tries to tell you what to do, and you finally tell him to knock it off after about twenty minutes. He growls, "I'm the oldest. I'm in charge."

You laugh quietly and respond, "Whatever, if you think age is all that matters, you're an idiot. Let's go, and if you want that deer, you'll listen to me. Ghost told me how many you missed or scared off by being too loud and cocky yesterday."

"He what?! Why didn't he tell me? We could have filled my tag yesterday!"

"Probably because you're being such an asshole to him." You shrug like it's the clearest thing in the world because to you it is. Grumbling, your brother follows you. Gradually, he picks up on your mannerisms and his walking quiets, but it still sounds like a moose shoving through a bush most of the time. You stop suddenly, and he nearly runs into you, not paying attention. Grabbing a bit of hair from a bush, you show him silently before walking on quieter than before. Slowly, sign becomes more frequent, and finally, you spot the deer herd. Your brother gets his deer, a big buck, and you help him break it down and load it into the packs. You add both hindquarters to one pack, and he complains that you're trying to load him too heavy. When you shoulder the heavier pack, he then jokes meanly that you're just showing off.

"Just give me that one. I don't want to have to switch off partway down because you're tired," he crows. You ignore him and set off down the trail, too annoyed to even respond to his rudeness. A grunt follows you as he shoulders his pack. At the halfway point, he is nearly wheezing with the added weight of the head on his pack.

"I need... to... stop..." he huffs. "This pack... is too... heavy..."

You wave at him to stop, and when he does, you walk around him and unhook the head from the top of his pack. Hefting it over your shoulders, you use the antlers to keep it in place at the top of your pack. "Let's go. We don't have all day," you call back to him. You can feel his stare as you hump down the mountain, moving faster now that he isn't slowing you down as much. Luckily, it's only a few miles to camp because you're exhausted after hauling so much on your back. Your dad scolds you that you should have sent someone back to get the rest of them to help, and you shrug it off.

"No sense in wasting time, dad. We got it down just fine." Happily, the three of them already have camp broken down except for the makeshift shower area. You've mostly avoided using it, just wiping down with a washcloth, but the deer head bled on your neck and down your back the whole way. "Ghost, can you help check me for ticks," you ask quietly as you strip off your gear before walking to the shower. Your brothers grumble about the two of you showering together, but you don't care as Ghost is the only one you trust to do it and the only one that knows why you won't wear tank tops very often anymore.

When you're nearly finished, Ghost convinces you to put lotion over your burn scars as they are flaring up from the lack of it in the last few days. He walks out in just a pair of shorts and shoes to dig through your pack, ignoring the suspicious stares of your brothers and their stares at his scarred torso. You manage to bite back the moan when Ghost swipes over the first scar, but not the whimper of pain when he brushes the second, which is severely inflamed. He whispers an apology and continues, knowing that you hate pausing part way when treating them, even if it hurts badly.

When you walk out fully dressed and he is still in just shorts, your brothers shoot him similar dirty looks. "Couldn't keep it in your pants a minute longer, eh?" says your younger brother angrily.

"You're disgusting! Havin sex with my sister feet away from her family," adds your older brother.

"Shut up, idiots. He was rubbing lotion on my s-back. I needed it done, and I can't reach the dry skin there easily," you growl at them.

"We know you're lying. You're disgusting. Can't believe you, seriously."

Your dad sees the stubborn set of your eyes and the hurt beneath. His sons have gone too far, he knows. "Knock it off, boys. You've been nothing but rude this entire trip, and I'm sick of it."

"But dad...!"

"Sugar, just tell them. You've been stepping around questions and hiding yourself long enough," Ghost's voice cuts through the air.

"You gay or somethin? Would make sense, but you know we don't care," your oldest brother says as he just can't help himself. It makes you mad enough to about face away from them and rip your shirt off angrily, showing them your back.

"No, bruv. He means I should show you why I couldn't make it on the trip last year. The things I hide by telling you that I consult for the Task Force rather than telling you that I am a member of the task force. I... I haven't wanted to worry you, dad." You nearly whisper the last in the complete silence that follows. Ghost rests a hand on your shoulder, watching their reactions carefully. Their eyes trace up and down the burns that mar the middle of your back and dipping down below the waist of your pants.

"You called from the hospital," your dad says finally. The pieces are clicking into place for him. "I remember hearing the beeping in the background, and you sounded... stressed."

"It was a long recovery. They had to harvest donor skin, but luckily, I got to be a guinea pig on a new treatment that sped things up," you say quietly.

"How did this happen? Why weren't we notified? You didn't let us visit or anything?!" You're surprised to hear your middle brother sounding upset. You take the time to fix your shirt, thinking about what to say.

"I was on a mission. There was a complication, and it bollocksed up the whole thing." You pause as you think back to it. "Anyway, I got caught under some burning shit and yea, this happened."

The glare Ghost gives you has you rolling your eyes at the intimidating man. "You forgot the part where you held a burning timber up to save someone and crawled out on your own, refusing to medivac until the mission objective was completed. I think that adds a few important details to the whole thing."

"And...what were you doing when this happened," your oldest brother demands.

"He was shooting anyone who tried to come near us. Saved my life, he did," you say with a grateful smile up at Ghost.

"So, you've been lying to us about your job and getting hurt, and what else? How do we know what to believe now? You only make it back here once a year, after all." Your oldest brother sounds betrayed, his tone accusing.

You just shrug and shake your head, ignoring his questions and accusations. "You gonna shower before we go, or can we break camp and head home?"

"Let's go. I want away from you as fast as possible," he sneers, turning away from you angrily.

"Fine with me," you say in a flat voice. You take down the last few tarps and drain the water with Ghost's help. The trip to the processor and back home is silent in the car, your dad and brothers thinking heavily on what they learned today while you and Ghost simply enjoy the peace and quiet. As soon as you get home, your oldest brother leaves, tires squealing as he takes off in his truck. You just shake your head, disappointed that he's still got his head so far up his ass after all this time.

You pack the meat from the butcher into coolers for the trip home to London. "You should probably call Captain and tell him to pick up another freezer or two," Ghost jokes as more and more coolers are filled and packed into the back of the truck you rented.

"I had three delivered while we were gone," you grin up at him. "Good thing I got my permission ahead of time. Captain is dying to try this stuff."

"You think they'll let you on with it all? It's more than I expected, and I thought I had a pretty good idea of what to expect," he says, a little worried.

"Oh, I grabbed bribe jerky from the butcher. They'll be excited enough not to care once I pass it around," you say with a knowing smile.

"You know the way to a man's heart, luv."

"Yes, ordnance and explosives," you quip with a loud laugh, making him grin down at you.

Telling your middle brother and dad goodbye the next morning is hard. They both hold tightly to you, and you nearly have to pry your dad off when you go to leave, his worries making him want to hold you tight and keep you safe.

"I'll be back next year, I promise. We probably will need to hunt extra, knowing how much the team will love this meat," you assure him with a smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You drive back to the air strip, happy to have ended things on a better note.

"So, yer dad is the dog's bollocks. Brothers are shite though," Ghost says as you drive away. You laugh. It's all you can do. When you show up with a pallet of coolers, the flight crew is ready to deny you until you hand over your certificates and small box of jerky to share between them. They eagerly call over the forklift to load the pallet, and you spend the whole trip listening to hunting stories from their childhood and telling your own with Ghost listening quietly at your side.

Captain Price is there waiting on the tarmac when you land. His eyes bulge when he sees how many coolers you brought back. "I take it the hunt was successful then," he teases.

"Yeah, just a bit. Bet you thought the freezers were overkill, eh?"

He laughs, "You know I did. Set them up anyway. Welcome home, kids," he says, ruffling your hair as he wraps you in a hug and gripping Ghost's arm in a friendly squeeze. You smile up at him, happy to be home with your team.

#ghost cod #cod #cod fluff #cod x female reader #simon ghost riley

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amagnificentobsession · 2 months

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It’s Saturday morning my beloveds. Today I need your help.

After an exhausting visit to the ER last night, long, story that sucks *still giggling* I think I’m punch drunk. https://www.tumblr.com/amagnificentobsession/745732116032176128/what-is-your-opinion-on-vacuum-cleaners

My brunch skills would be sorely put to test. I don’t want to serve sub-par food.

Today I would love for you to help me. Bring your favorite dish to share with others. @god-wednesday always brings the best desserts. Anything you wish to bring, that way we can find out what others love to eat, and I can incorporate it into brunch in the future.

Oh and bring me a recipe card if you want me to make your dish for a future brunch.

It also appears @baby-angelo has conjured up a fairy nerf. Bring your own nerf gunz and balls, you know, ammo balls. Oh never mind……..

Costumes are highly encouraged.

I can already tell it’s going to be one of those days.

By the way if anyone has a vacuum they can lend me……

@docdust @i-dream-of-sheeny @loretta-dont-you-oppress-me @angelo-rib-shack @e-w-w-morningstar @god-in-the-basement @one-coming-is-enough @sliceocheese @angelo-chuck-wagon @angel-and-the-serpent @curlish @andagon @angelo-rib-shack @mr-crawleigh @muriel-not-the-dim-one @pissylittlebirdboy @trans-darbie @gandalf-big-oos @kleenexwoman @youroneandonlysnakelady @thedemon-crowley @thatflatfrog @vixie-the-vee @violet-yimlat @avis-morningstar @thedemon-crowley @muriel-not-the-dim-one

@the-metatron @dream-of-pain Madam ♥️

@andagon I’m going to put some music on to stay awake, after this please do your beautiful DJ thing.

@angelo-rib-shack darling, please check the invitations for me. 💋 I love you honey.

youtube

#go rp #saturday brunch #family is who you love #family is who loves you #familia #Metatron family #Morningstar family #ooc between surgery and strep getting up at 4am sucks

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elminx · 3 months

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French Onion Soup: A Look Into Single Ingredient* Kitchen Witch Spells

*There are actually eight ingredients in my recipe, but I am only using one (onions) for the purpose of my witching

Last weekend, when my partner announced they were taking the short ribs out of the freezer to dethaw, I knew my dark moon banishment had been decided for me: it was time to make my yearly batch of French Onion Soup. I always make this soup with a combination of the au jus from the short ribs and broth made from the leftover bones; it is part of our goal to use as much of the animal as we can. But French onion soup does more than fill our bellies: it fills the entire house with the essence of onions.

This, as a kitchen witch, I can USE.

Some background on what I call Single Ingredient Kitchen Witch Spells

One of the things that I have found when pursuing Kitchen Witch spells is that the writers often try to attribute a magical intention to every ingredient they put into their food. Although this is well intended, if one is actually enchanting their meals (rather than just "asking" the ingredients to impart some magic - which is valid), it becomes - in my opinion - very energy-intensive and cumbersome. That's not what I am all about when I'm witching in the kitchen.

My idea of a good kitchen witch spell is one where you spend a hot minute cooking your food (stirring and returning to your meal is a LOT of where I impart magic into food) but where the actual magic is fairly simple. In this way, I am drawn to a spell where one type of magical intention is highlighted by using only one ingredient or a (small) combination of ingredients that all work towards a common goal.

I find this approach easier for witches who are to kitchen magic and low-energy witches like me. This doesn't mean that you need to stick to very simple recipe to enchant kitchen magic, instead, we are focusing on one or a handful of ingredients for the material of our spellwork. Sometimes flavoring (everything else) can just be flavoring.

I will point out here that by my thinking, whatever primary ingredient you are enchanting for your kitchen magic SHOULD be a primary ingredient/flavor in the dish that you are making. While a pinch of salt can and will cleanse, I wouldn't call your dish a cleansing spell just because you added a pinch of salt. In this way, this type of magic works best with ingredient-forward dishes like pesto (basil), pies (fruit), or - in this case - French Onion Soup which calls for multiple cups of Sweet Onion.

The Magic of Onion

In my opinion as a witch and amateur herbalist, the magic of onion lies in its organosulfur compounds. It is unmistakable if you have ever cut or eaten an onion (or other members of the allium family) that they carry a distinctive smell and taste of sulfur. Sulfur, also known as brimstone, has long been associated with banishment or dispelling magics of all kinds.

Notably, here this association carries over to onion both in the metaphysical realm where it is believed to banish or keep away evil and ill will, but also in its physical properties as onion is antiseptic and antibacterial. Perhaps, in this way, we can imagine that onion chases away the bad by removing it from our bodies.

That's something that I can get behind.

French Onion Soup: a Banishment for the Body and the Home

If the magic of onions is found in its organosulfur compounds (as I believe), this is activated thrice in the making of French onion soup.

Firstly, when you cut the onions. Secondly, when you caramelize the onions (fumigating your home), and thirdly when you eat the onions. We've been talking a lot lately about the magic of the number 3 - a number that can naturally increase or decrease depending on how it is used. This a decreasing 3-spell, and could be used as an adjunct to a more traditional decreasing spell. For example, I might start a banishment or decreasing candle spell and then make and eat the soup while the spell was burning.

Note here that I think that the PRIMARY banishment stage comes during the caramelization process, this is where I focus the energy of my banishment.

You will need:

6 cups thin sliced Sweet Onions

8 cups beef broth, homemade preferred, but boxed is okay

A small bundle of Thyme, fresh preferred

1/2 Stick of Butter or comparable oil substitute (EVOO)

1/2 cup dry wine, optional

Baguette or other crusty bread, sliced into 1/2-inch pieces

Gruyere cheese, grated

Salt and Pepper to taste

Prepare your kitchen Do this in any way you prefer before starting a kitchen witch spell. I like to have a hearth candle that I light when doing kitchen magic to help create the proper mood.

Thin Slice Your Onions We want the onions in the soup to have a thin ribbon-like texture. It helps with caramelization to have all your onion slices be the same size, but this may not be possible if you start with very differently-sized onions. This is your chance to connect with the spirit or powers of the onion. Very quickly, you will begin to physically experience the effects of onion's sulfuric nature as the syn-propanethial-S-oxide gas released by cutting the onions mixes with the water content in our eyes, creating sulfuric acid. This is part of the banishment properties of onion; although it might not be pleasant, thank the onion for doing what it is doing. Depending on your magical traditions, you may choose to interact with onion in any manner of ways. Remember here that this is the first of three banishment steps in this process - whoever cuts the onions will get the direct and most focused banishment of the entire spell. If the intended recipient of the spell is you, cut the onions yourself. If it is someone else, consider asking them to cut the onions for you. I wanted to work this spell for both myself and my partner, and I knew that they would still be out of the house when I caramelized the onions, so I asked them to cut the onion for me. You can choose to talk to the onions, pray over the onion, carve sigils into them before you cut them, or do anything that feels appropriate to your path during this time. This step will take a while, especially if you need to take breaks to cry your eyes out over onions. This can be done up to a day ahead of time - store your cut onions in the fridge until you are ready to use them.

Camarmelize Your Onions I thought about giving you the basics on caramelizing onions here, but this is a kitchen witch blog. I assume you have some proficiency in the kitchen if you are attempting a spell like this. Besides, the process of doing this will change drastically depending on how wet your onions are, the general humidity, and how your stove manages heat. The butter, onions, thyme, and salt go into the pot in this step. Start on medium heat and adjust up or down as you need to so that your onions cook until they are golden brown. Expect this to take at least an hour, and be happy if it takes less. The secret to caramelizing onions is that you need to consistently stir the pot so they do not stick to the bottom and burn. This is where I put the majority of my magic into this spell - each time that I return to the pot, I draw a banishing sigil over my onions. I also stir in the anti-clockwise direction of removal. You should adapt this to how you perform kitchen magic, of course. I will note here that my apartment has a relatively open floor plan and I intentionally do not turn on the kitchen fans so that the oniony goodness vents into my house, not out of it. This is the step that I use to banish unwanted energy from my physical space - I speak words over the steam rising from my onions and ask it to assist me in this process. If I lived in a place with a less open floor plan, I would open any doors and windows needed to get the steam/smell into as many parts of the place as I could. If you just want to focus on your physical body, you can skip this step but I find that if my energy has gotten off enough to require a banishment, my place needs cleansing, too.

Heat Your Broth You want your broth to be at a similar temperature to your onions. This doesn't need to get done at the beginning of your caramelization process as you might evaporate more than necessary, but you will want your broth up to temperature by the time your onions are at their desired doneness.

Construct the Soup When the onions are ready, deglaze the pot with wine or beef broth. Scrape the bottle to reincorporate any stuck residue back into your base. Add 1/2 cup of flour and mix to form a weak roux. Slowly add beef broth by the ladle full into the base, stirring as you go. Cook on a simmer for 10 minutes. This is the time for any last intention setting,. You can adjust for salt and add pepper as a final pop of banishing if you are so inclined.

Serve and Eat All of our magic has already been accomplished, so now it is time to plate (bowl?) our meal. French Onion Soup is traditionally served in individual ramekins with a slice of bread and melted Gruyere on top. This is accomplished by putting the soup into the ramekins, topping with the bread and cheese, and then popping those suckers under the broiler. I don't do this. I just grill the bread and top with thinly grated cheese. There isn't enough difference here to wait the extra few minutes after I've already been standing over the stove for an hour. You can say a few words over your meal if that's you thing, but you don't need to here. The rest of the magic will be fueled by your own digestive system. It is done French onion soup keeps for a couple of days in the fridge and freezes nicely so long as you omit the bread and cheese.

If I could choose one thing for you to take away from this writing, it is that kitchen witchery does not have to be complicated. You don't need to know the magical associations for every ingredient you put into your meal. You only need to know one and use it well.

Do you like my work? You can support me over on Kofi.

#witchblr #words #mine #kitchen witch #kitchen witch recipes #banishing potions #french onion soup #onion magic #onion banishment

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