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#well that and I was craving tacos
astranva · 10 months
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Instagram Live
Word Count: 1k
Category: Fluff
Summary: Harry joins his girlfriend’s Instagram live.
..
There were a lot of labels that people never seemed to like.
There were relationship labels that people fought over, sexuality labels that every media outlet liked to plaster, and scandalous labels that could break a royal’s reputation.
However, your label as Harry’s girlfriend was one that you actually seemed to enjoy.
Harry’s normal girlfriend.
Sure, you were called “Harry Styles’ girlfriend” more times than you were called by your own name ever since you became public three years ago, but if there was anything you felt like you had bragging rights about, it would be that you managed to form a connection with his fans for being yourself, and especially on TikTok.
It came as a surprise to many and most when people caught up to the woman Harry seemed so infatuated with that he was grinning some more, directing sappy lyrics to on stage, and going shopping with at places that weren’t Gucci. You were relatable.
Your TikToks were international treasure, especially ones where you pranked Harry or participated in couple challenges with, so it was no surprise that even your Instagram harbored some following who were instantly excited and urgent to join once they had got the notification.
yourinstagram started a live video. Watch it before it ends!
Clad in a black Pleasing crewneck, hair up in a microfiber towel, your legs were pushed up slightly against your chest as you painted your nails, peaking to see you already had 14,374 viewers.
“Helloooo,” you dragged, smiling once you saw the excited comments coming through.
user1: OMG HEY BESTIE
user2: PLEASING
user3: NO WAY YOU’RE LIVE
user4: hey, y/n! how are you doing?
“I’m doing okay,” you answered, sighing a little, “Just taking a quick break from studying and thought we could have a chat.”
user5: you’re still studying?
user6: OMG SAY HI ANGELA PLS
user7: @/user she’s getting a master’s degree where have u been
user8: do you miss harry?
“Hi Angela,” you smiled, “Yeah, I’m getting my master’s degree. Guys, I literally forgot how awful exams and assignments were because I graduated like, four years ago, so I don’t miss it,” you said, “Do I miss Harry? No, of course not. I don’t know who that is.”
user9: STOP DID THEY BREAK UP?
user10: I hope you’re joking
user11: NOT YALL BELIEVING HER ALKJWKJFH
You chuckled, “Some of you are new here, huh?”
user9: Y/N HARRY IS WATCHING
user12: HARRY
user8: HARRY IS WATCHING WEIFWEFH
harrystyles: Boo. You miss me.
user13: NO FUCKING WAYYYYY
You laughed, “You’re going to break them.”
user2: I CAN’T BREATHE
harrystyles: Oops.
harrystyles: Have you eaten?
user14: PLSSSS I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M SEEING THIS
“Yeah, I-Oh my God, H, I made one the best salads ever. It had chicken, like grilled chicken, and I had bell peppers, corn, lettuce, cherry tomatoes, red beans, onions,” you counted on your fingers, “Then I made this creamy avocado dressing. It was so fucking good.”
user4: share the recipe bestie
harrystyles: Yum. Can’t wait to try it when I see you.
harrystyles: Breakfast?
“Yeah, I had breakfast, too,” you nodded, “Butter toasts and those olives we got from Italy,” you said, “What about you? Are you eating well?”
user5: I can’t believe we’re witnessing this
user15: it’s like they’re on the phone together
user16: I want to sit on a highway
harrystyles: We had tacos! 🌮
You gasped jokingly, “Did you actually eat tacos because I was telling you about how much I’ve been craving them yesterday?”
paulithepsm: Y/NNNNNNN
user7: PAULI IS HERE
harrystyles: Yes. Hehe.
“Pauli!” You grinned, “I missed you too much!” You were beaming before pointing a finger at the screen, “Same doesn’t go for you though, H. I can’t believe you ate tacos without me.”
harrystyles: PAULI
user8: KEHFKWJE CRYING
paulithepsm: HARRY
paulithepsm: I miss my best friend 😭😭
user18: PLS
harrystyles: I’m sorry. I’ll make you tacos when you get here. Promise.
harrystyles: Show me your nails.
You showed your freshly painted nails to the screen, “Some Citrico Vibrante Cremoso greens,” you showed them off, “Buy Pleasing,” you teased, “Or find more affordable dupes, babes.”
user6: PLSSSS SHE’S SO REAL FOR THAT
harrystyles: I’ll match with you.
“You can wait until I come. I’ll paint them for you,” you said.
harrystyles: OKAY ❤
user3: HE’S SO CUTE
user10: THE EMOJIS HE'S SO REAL
jeffazoff: Come get your man. He’s a pain.
You laughed, “Aw come on, Jeff. He’s not too bad. You just need to cuddle him and feed him.”
harrystyles: Agreed.
harrystyles: Jeff, don’t cuddle me.
user19: KEUDUEWFKHJ PLS
jeffazoff: I wasn’t planning on it 🙄 I’m waiting for Y/N to come and do that
“I leave you for two weeks and now you’re about to kill each other,” you sighed, “Hey, before I forget, can you tell Lamby that I’ve been trying to send him my final thoughts about the outfit but it won’t get to him for some reason?”
harry_lambert: My phone’s been acting up, babe. Send it on email! 🖤
user20: I just want to be her
harrystyles: I love your outfit.
“Okay, Lamby, will do,” you said before giggling, standing up and backing away a little to show the Pleasing crewneck and the baggy green sweatpants you were wearing, “Oh yeah? What do you think?” You put a hand to your hip before pretending to flick back your hair, “My boyfriend got me that sweatshirt,” you pointed at it, “And these are his sweatpants,” you pointed again, “Hair by me, nails by me but using my boyfriend’s nail polish,” you said, wiggling your fingers before approaching your phone again, “He’s kind of a big deal.”
user6: PLSS WHY IS THIS SO CUTE
user7: she’s so cute
harrystyles: He’s so fucking lucky.
You giggled, cupping your hand around your mouth, “Harry Styles just cursed on live,” you whispered.
user18: LMFAOOOOO
user21: “he’s so fucking lucky” I DIED BYE
jeffazoff: Scandalous
harrystyles: OH FUCK
harrystyles: 😎
You laughed, “This is some content your fans will absolutely go feral over,” you said, “I need to go now.”
harrystyles: Call me?
user20: I’m not okay
You nodded, “I’ll call you right after I end that thing. Bye, guys! Talk to you later!”
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gracev0609 · 9 days
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Ease Your Pain
Josh Kiszka X Reader
WC: 1.5k+
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI, Explicit Sex,Period Sex, Breeding Kink
You heard the front door close, signaling that your beloved boyfriend was home. Josh made his way through the house carrying the bag of Taco Bell you requested. It was the second day of your period, your heaviest day, and you were wrapped up on the couch craving nothing but junk.
“Here you go, lovie,” Josh places the bag on the coffee table in front of you, his eyes looking sympathetic as he takes in your bundled up form.
You peek your head out of your blankets and gingerly raise to a seated position, eager to inhale your food. Unwrapping your burrito a sharp pang assaults your lower stomach and you wince.
After a few minutes of munching you finish your food,” Joshy? Will you lay with me?”
“Absolutely. Do you want to stay here, or lay in bed?”
“Wanna stay here, I'm comfy.”
Wordlessly Josh maneuvers his body behind yours, his hips flush against yours, and his large palm comes to rest against your bloated stomach. The warmth from his body instantly soothes you. His fingers press into your abdomen, trying to ease the cramping. You sigh and melt into his body. Josh's body is so warm and safe and he wants nothing other than to take the best care of you. Your breath hitches as he nuzzles his face into your neck.
“Does it feel any better?”
Another sharp pain attacks your abdomen making you intake a sharp breath of air.
Josh jutts out his bottom lip,”I’ll take that as a no.”
The dull ache within your body radiating from your uterus persists, but he continues to work his fingers into your soft abdomen trying to ease your pain. Josh places his palm flat against your stomach and he apologizes.
"Why are you sorry?"
"I'm sorry because it's my fault," he starts caressing your body a little bit lower," I didn't do my job, didn't get my pretty baby knocked up. She's mad at me."
Your body immediately reacts to his words and you think, oh… he's in a mood. Your raging hormones make the need for him blossom between your legs, you ache for him to move his hand even lower. As if he can read your mind he trails his fingers underneath the waistband of your sweats.
“I.. I'm wearing a pad. I wanted to be comfy.”
Josh kisses the warm skin of your neck,” That's okay baby, I want you to be comfortable. A little mess on my hand is no big deal.”
Josh slides his hand lower, and swipes his fingers through the warm wetness that has been accumulating. You feel him start to stiffen as his fingers play in the mess between your legs.
You melt into his body as his well lubricated fingers glide across your swollen clit, you can hear his breathing pick up. He's so turned on. A rush of arousal floods through your brain as you realize he's turned on, because of your period.
Gruffly he rasps in your ear,” Fuck, I can't wait to be inside you. All warm and wet. Fucking coating me.”
His fingers abandon your clit, sliding down to tease your entrance,” Is my pretty baby going to let me in? I wanna get you all relaxed for my cock.”
“Please”
He slides his fingers into your sensitive heat slowly pumping them in and out before curling them up into your favorite spot. Before long you're writhing your hips fucking yourself on his fingers.
“Jooooshhh...” You trail off, mind blanking.
“Is my baby going to cum?”
The coil in your stomach tightens, your body tensing up, and you finally topple over the edge. Josh's fingers don't ease up, fucking you through it to completion.
“Such a good girl. Came so pretty and perfect.”
Your eyes flutter open to see his pretty face looming above yours, his hand still slowly pumping in and out. His eyes are clouded with lust, but he still smiles softly,”Hi, baby.”
Before long his constant stimulation makes you start to clench, another orgasm in sight. The wet squelching from between your legs sounding obscene as he pushes you closer and closer.
“Gonna give me another one? I want it love. Come on, cum all over my fingers.”
You whimper as pleasure courses throughout your body in waves, giving him exactly what he wanted.
His fingers slow to a stop, and your body protests by cramping yet again making you furrow your brow in a wince. Josh pulls his red stained fingers from your pants, admiring the way you coat his hand.
“Take your pants off baby, just sit down in the blankets, we can throw it all in the wash after.”
Before you can even get the chance to get embarrassed about the state of his hand, or tell him to go wash up. He grabs his straining cock with his painted hand, squeezing and rubbing himself through the fabric, staining his pants with you.
He unzips his pants, pulling them and his underwear down his legs. Josh bites his lip as he gives himself a few tugs giving himself a bit of relief. Slotting himself between your legs you feel him hot and hard at your core.
“You're still cramping, huh? I think my pretty baby needs my cock to make her feel better, they say it helps. I know you usually feel a little better after,” his softness diminishes,” Gotta get my girl all drunk on my cock, pump her full of my cum. We'll make the prettiest shade of pink….Maybe I'll even fuck a baby in you soon.”
You run your hands up the soft skin of his back under his t-shirt,” Do it Josh.”
You taunt him, indulging his kink that likes to come out to play, both of you knowing full well you're on birth control and have your period right now.
“I'll take everything you give me, hold it all in and keep it there. Knock me up Joshy.”
You study his face as his jaw clenches and his eyes roll back, he loves it when you talk dirty. Josh leans up on his knees and cradles his cock in his hand, he runs his tip through the fluid and slick between your legs, drawing his hips back he calls for your attention,” Look baby. Look how pretty you're marking me.”
You look down to his cock, his tip bright red covered in you the sight inexplicably makes you clench, needing him more than ever.
“Put it in me love, need to be full of you.”
Josh complies, easing his hips forward, slowly entering you. Inch by inch you revel in the fullness he provides, the extra lubrication making him glide in easily.
Gently he rears his hips back before pushing deep inside you,”God- Fuck. You're so wet. Making a fucking mess of me. You like that though, don't you? You like being my pretty messy baby”
All you can do is nod you head as he continues to thrust into your sensitive cunt. He's overwhelming in the best way, your body is vibrating in pleasure.
“Go harder Josh, please baby.”
He rises to his knees, pulling you into his lap. He takes the bottom hem of his shirt between his teeth, holding it up away from the mess the two of you are making.
He drives his hips into you harder, the plush head of his cock nudging your cervix, creating the most delicious amount of pain.
Your eyes roll back as he pounds away getting lost in your warm wetness. Little beads of red splash onto his belly as he works the two of you closer to your ends.
He grunts with every pointed thrust through the cotton between his teeth. You can feel him pulsating inside of you, he's so close, and so are you. Squeezing his cock within your walls he whines,”Baby…”
“Come on Josh, need you to cum. Wanna feel it…. Get me pregnant.”
He drops the hem of his shirt, fucking into you even harder,” Yeah… yes, fuck-here- here baby I'm cumming, gonna get you pregnant so fucking fast.”
He swells and bursts inside of you, overwhelmed by the feeling of his hot fluid coating your insides, it pushes you over the edge for the final time. You squeeze and flutter around him, milking both of your orgasms out as long as they can go.
Josh flops back onto his forearms, and he gently pulls out,”God damn sweetheart. How do you feel? Because that was….fuck.”
You smile at him, looking equally as disheveled,”I definitely feel better.”
Josh helps you up off of the couch, scooping up the soiled blankets to put them in the wash on the way to the bathroom.
He turns the shower on, hot, and removes his now ruined white shirt.
“Do you think we can save it?”
You shake your head no, and he tosses into the trash can.
Josh looks down at his half hard length, still softening,” See love, the prettiest shade of pink.”
You laugh at the mess, climbing into the shower and he asks,” How are your cramps? Are they all gone?”
Josh closes the shower door behind him and you wrap yourself around his torso,” They're gone for now, at least.”
He cups your face in his hands,”Well, you let me know if they start bothering you,and I'll make you feel good again if you want.”
Fin.
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erensonly · 24 days
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You know how ghost always has his mask on, what would be reader reaction seeing ghosts face for the first time but in a way she doesn't know its him and she goes like "who the fuck is that??? 🤨🤨🤨🤨"
🍒anon
butcher shop buddies (simon riley x reader)
i dont know why i laughed so hard at this. thanks for the ask!! oh can i call you cherry-berry anon?
warnings: fluff, ooc ghost, not proofread sorry, use of 'pretty' and 'cute', no use of pronouns but i may use them in future parts, dad joke, probably incorrect butcher information, i was hungry writing this.
please feel free to message me and let me know if i missed any warnings
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maybe reader is a civvie and she frequents this one particular butcher shop so you can get meat packages for cheap. this is the first time you see ghost. he's standing in front of the case of meats trying to determine which cut of steak he wanted, while you were there seeing if the people on tiktok were serious about meat packages being cheap. groceries are getting too expensive and you wanted to try your hand at birria tacos.
while taking a look around, you didn't notice the larger man inching closer to you. "d'ya know which cut you're looking for?" naturally, you flinch an take a step back. what is this mammoth of a man doing bending down to your level to help you look for meat? but his accent is silly but pleasing to listen to, so you give him a vague answer. "kinda," you say with a shrug.
"i heard they do these packages of meats that can last me a while. and i've been craving birria tacos, so i need beef for that as well." he silently just leads you to the other side of the case and starts talking to the man standing there. it's like they've known each other for a while. you tune them out to make sure you have everything else checked off of your mental grocery list. when you tune back in, the butcher is slicing some meats up and the man was still standing there.
"thank you so much for your help." this was directed at both men, but only the butcher responded with a "you're welcome" while the other man just nodded at you, before taking his purchase and leaving the store. what a strange man.
this is how you guys started to see each other at least once a month at the same butcher shop/supermarket. he had introduced himself to you as ghost before telling you that you could call him simon. he was actually a kinda funny guy. easy to misunderstand his jokes if you dwell on it too long, but also easy to laugh at if you share the same sense of dry humor. he didn't have much to say at first, cracking jokes at the wrong times, but other than that, there was nothing else for him to say.
i feel like ghost doesn't stop yapping around people that he's comfortable with. like he talks about everything and nothing at the same time. this is how you came to find out that he was in the military, he has family but they're the men from his task force, he travels for work often, and knows every dad joke to ever exist. he's a simple man.
he thrives on routine and familiarity. he makes it a habit to meet you once or twice a month at the shops, go grab a coffee -tea for him- and have a good conversation before going about his day. you ask for his number so you can communicate with him outside of your mini meet-ups and he agrees. now you send whatever meme made you laugh that day and a picture of what you were doing, and he sends you a joke of the day and picture of what he was doing.
he liked getting your cute selfies showing your outfit of the day, or the puzzle you finally completed after losing a piece a month ago, or his personal favorite pictures of you cuddled up with your cat pawl.
i feel like simon is a dog person outwardly, but he didn't realize how much he actually liked cats because he never had one growing up. so seeing you all cozy and pretty with your cat trying to escape your kiss, simon felt like he finally had something to look forward to. now he wanted you to see him for him.
when you walk into the shop, you're expecting simon to be waiting at the counter like he always did, chatting it up with his butcher friend. but instead, you see a blonde man with a black medical mask on talking to the butcher. maybe he's just late.
you walk to your normal spot to wait when the man turns to you and speaks. "how ya doin' today, love?" it startled you. who is this man and why is his voice familiar and why is he so attractive. "who the hell are you?" you couldn't help the confusion on your face; why is he talking to you. he just laughs and laughs, obviously finding your confusion hilarious.
"what did baby corn say to mama corn?" you were more confused. who's baby and mama corn? "go on," you encourage.
"where's pop corn?" this set you off. laughing louder than you probably should. "simon, how are you, darling?" you both had endearing names for each other even though you were just friends. it just came naturally.
"hungry. wanna stop at this one diner i know? they have amazing burgers."
that's how you find yourself eating a cheeseburger with simon who has taken his mask off by now. he was a very attractive man, not that you doubted it before. sharp square shaped jawline, crooked nose from being broken too many times, beautiful honey brown eyes contrasted by his long blonde lashes. he had a mole on the side of his nose, and scars on his face but they only added to his ruggedness; his attractiveness.. it didn't help that he was 6"4 with big strong arms, nice sized pecs, and on the rare occasion he would send you a mirror selfie without a hoodie on, you could see through his shirt that he had a nice soft belly. (my personal favorite build)
you were glad he was comfortable enough with you to be willingly vulnerable with you. maybe this relationship could escalate so much more.
----
should i make more parts to this? i already have a few ideas.
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zepskies · 4 months
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Smoke Eater - Part 13
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Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 
Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 
That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   
AN: For those who didn't catch my announcement on Monday, I released Part 12 earlier this week! Now, on to a confrontation I think a lot of you have been waiting for...
🔥 Series Masterlist
Word Count: 7,200 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Attempted sexual assault. Protective Dean, angst, hurt/comfort.  
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Part 13: “Boiling Point”
Usually, Christmas was your absolute favorite time of the year.
This holiday was a baker’s dream, and you and your grandmother used to volunteer at the church bake sale every Christmas Eve. Grandpa George had done his best to help you in the years after she died…but you just didn’t have it in you this year.
You considered it an accomplishment that you pulled down some of the decorations from the attic, putting them up around your house, and buying a little four-foot tree (also hauling it into the house yourself). However, you knew that you wouldn’t be alone on Christmas Day, at least.
Sam and Dean had already invited you over to spend it with them. You would have the chance to get to know Eileen better, and you would even get to meet the famous John Winchester…
But you still had one reason to dread the end of the month.
Nick Savage threw a Christmas party every year. It was equal parts celebration and networking, and as a top performer of the sales division, you were expected to come.
The problem was, this time the party was going to be held at his house.
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“You can’t just not go?” Andréa asked, shortly before taking a massive bite of her burrito. The two of you were grabbing dinner together after another long day at the office, followed by a movie later.
You’d realized just how much you had missed your best friend.
“Yeah, that’ll be great for me. Josh will get to chat up the whole team and get them clamoring to kiss his dick. Nick will give him the Sales Manager position just to spite me,” you said, while picking at your taco salad. “He keeps pitting us against each other for his own enjoyment, but I swear to God he harps on me the most.”
Andréa frowned. “Are you sure Nick just doesn’t have a thing for you? It sounds like he’s a little boy, picking on a girl he likes.”
You pursed your lips. She still didn’t know the full extent on your boss’s thing with you. You hadn’t told her about the last time Nick cornered you in his office, dangled a promotion in front of you, and basically gave you an ultimatum: sleep with him, or don’t move up in the company.
You hadn’t told anyone, for that matter.
You were just trying to figure out how to not get fired, while still getting compensated for your hard work. Was that too much to ask? 
Apparently, it was.
“I don’t give a flying fuck what he thinks about me,” you said vehemently.
It earned your friend’s gaze, and her raised eyebrows. 
“Whoa,” she chuckled. “Easy there, Miss Congeniality. That’ll be sure to earn you the promotion.”
“No, really,” you said. You stabbed into your salad with a fork. “I’m so fucking sick and tired of having to tap dance my entire work life around him. He’s a goddamn child who thinks he can have whatever he wants just because Daddy gave him his own little kingdom!”
Andréa eyed you more with concern. Her hand reached for your arm. Meanwhile, you were forcing slower breaths through your nose.
“You okay?” she asked. “I don’t like the ‘crazy town’ look in your eyes right now.”
“I’m fine,” you grumbled. “Just hangry, I guess.”
You took another bite of your food. Andréa gave you a skeptical look, but she let it go for now, with a smirk.
“Yeah, well. Eat a Snickers, bitch. I don’t need you snapping on me again,” she teased.
You rolled your eyes, but you had to laugh a little. You shoved at her shoulder.
She gripped her own arm in fake panic. “Someone call the cops! This crazy woman just punched me out over a salad!”
You tried to shush her, even though you were giggling. Your head swiveled around in the restaurant, giving apologetic eyes to the people around you.
“Although, $20 for a few sprigs of romaine lettuce and a sliver of chicken? That’s worth punching somebody the fuck out,” she said, throwing down her napkin. “Let’s never come here again.”
“Agreed,” you nodded. “I don’t think they’ll let us back here anyway.”
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A few days later, you didn’t want to admit you were stressing out over this night.
“Have I said thank you? Because I mean it. Thank you for taking time off for this,” you said, smoothing down the nonexistent wrinkles in Dean’s blazer.
He looked good in black. It was classic, and the new suit was smart without being “too much” for him. (Sam had taken him to his “suit guy,” as Dean called it.)
Dean grabbed your arms to stop your slightly flustered hands. He smirked down at you as his eyes once again took in your dark red dress. It was simple and sleeveless, but elegant, falling just above the knee. Of course, you had to be wearing the tallest pair of black heels he’d ever seen.
“It’s no sacrifice, believe me,” he replied.
You smiled, but he noticed something behind your eyes.
“You okay?�� he asked. “Seems like you don’t really want to go to this thing.”
“I don’t,” you admitted on a sigh. “But my boss will know if I’m not there…I told you about the open Sales Manager position, right?”
“Yeah, I remember,” Dean nodded. His smile slid into a frown as he watched you bustle around your room, looking for your purse while you smoothed out the soft waves you’d managed to style your hair in, checking your eyeliner and lipstick too in the mirror.
“As usual, it’s down to me and Josh,” you said. “If I keep my numbers up and use tonight to network with my own team, get the rest of the guys on my side, maybe Nick will see that I’m the right choice.”
Dean came up behind you, resting a hand on your lower back.
“And this manager job…that’s what you want?” he asked.
You turned to him with a questioning look. “Well, yeah. I’ve been working here for five years, busting my ass.”
“And I got no doubt that you’re good at what you do,” Dean said. “But you do know, there hasn’t been a day since I met you that you didn’t have something crap to say about that job, and those people you work with.”
You frowned, and you thought about what he was saying. Sure, you complained about Nick, but did you really talk that much shit about your job?
“Everyone has things they don’t like about their work,” you reasoned. “Even you have your bad days.”
Though he tended to keep those days to himself, you knew when he’d had a tough call at the firehouse. You’d been trying your best to be a listening ear if he needed it, or if not, at least a soothing presence. It was more often the latter with Dean.
He acknowledged your point with a nod. “Okay, fair enough. I don’t know…I just think you’re wasting your talent.”
Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Sweetheart, you’re like…an artist. It’s nothing me, or Sam, or Andréa, or anybody in your life hasn’t told you before,” said Dean. “You went to school to do your dream. And I know life happened. But I also know that when I walk into the firehouse, it’s exactly where I’m supposed to be. Can you say that when you walk into the Savage building?”
You took in a breath. You understood what he was saying, but as much as you wanted to indulge the fantasy of owning your own business, being your own boss, creating your own menu, and giving people quality baked goods…you had to live in reality here.
Opening a brick-and-mortar business was expensive. And most restaurants, even bakeries, weren’t profitable for at least one to three years. You still had plenty of bills, and not even a car since the accident.
“I’ve invested too much time here to quit, Dean,” you said.
The conversation died there, but it left something new and awkward between you two. You tried to put it out of your mind while he drove you both over to the “filthy fucking rich” side of town, through a massive gate, and into a wide parking lot that had a valet driver waiting. Nick’s ridiculous house was a monument to trust fund kids everywhere. 
Dean reluctantly handed over the keys to the Impala.
“No donuts in the parking lot.” He eyed the 20-something-year-old valet with all due scrutiny. “Trust me, I’ll know.”
You smirked and slipped your arm around his to tug him up the steps, toward the large double doors of the house.
“Come on, Rambo. Baby’ll be fine without you.”
“You don’t know that,” Dean quipped back. Still, he moved his arm out of yours, just to wrap it around your waist and pull you against his side. His lips pressed against your cheek.
“You look sexy as hell,” he said lowly near your ear. “Did I forget to mention that?”
“No.” Your smile deepened. “But doesn’t hurt to mention again. I might just have to reward my boyfriend for humoring me tonight, getting all dapper himself.”
You and Dean made it up to the porch and you knocked on the door. He shot you a raised brow as his lips tugged upwards.
“Oh, yeah? We talkin’ lace or satin?” he asked. His lips brushed your temple.
You pretended to think. “Little of both, actually. It’s new. And it’s red…and I might just be wearing it right now.”
Dean’s brows shot up in surprise. His gaze subtly dragged over your every curve, as if he had x-ray vision to spy through your dress. You maintained an enigmatic smile.
“Oh, you’re diabolical,” he muttered. His hand moved down to playfully squeeze your ass. You had to bite your lip to stifle the sound you made, as that’s when the doors finally began to swing open.
Dean’s hand moved up a respectable few inches, resting on your waist.
You both smiled and greeted the attendant who let you into the house.
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A quick text let you know that Benny and Andréa were already here, each holding a flute of champagne. You and Dean met up with them in the huge living room space (which might has well have been a grand hall, for how large it was).
It held 50 people easily, but the party was already spanning the entire house, of at least two stories. It made your house look like a modest Barbie Dream home, without the pool attachment.
And Nick Savage was at the center of it all, greeting each guest and their “plus ones.”
When he spotted your group, he smoothly excused himself from the conversation with Josh and his wife, and headed over to you.
“Incomiiing,” Andréa quietly sing-songed. She sipped her champagne.
You steeled yourself, and you did your best to give a polite smile when Nick arrived with a pleasant “Merry Christmas.” You forced yourself to remain still when his hand fell on your arm, and he reached out to shake Dean’s hand in greeting, followed by Andréa and Benny. 
“Welcome, you guys,” he said, giving you a smile that hid just a hint of a smirk. “Justin let you know where everything is, right? Lotsa drinks, the good stuff, I promise. Plenty of food, hot chocolate and eggnog fountains, if that’s your thing. And a hell of a lot more out back by the pool.”  
“Great, thank you,” you nodded politely.
“All right! Let’s party,” Nick fist-pumped in the air. He pointed towards you and Dean. “You need a drink in your hand, stat.”
“I’m fine for now. Going to wait until I have something to eat first,” you replied. If you were going to get a glass of wine, it wouldn’t be one that Nick handed to you.
He pouted a little, but he looked at Dean next. “How about you, big guy? What you drinkin’?”
Dean shot you a glance, but before he could respond, Nick interrupted.
“You look like a whiskey guy. Am I right?” he asked.
Dean inclined his head. “Guilty.”
“Perfect. See? I’ve got an instinct for people,” Nick said, tossing you a wink as he headed for the nearby bar. “I’ll be back. You crazy kids relax and have fun.”
You had to admit, he knew how to turn on the charm when he had to. But who the hell said crazy kids under the age of 45?  
“He’s uh…got pep,” Benny remarked.
Andréa snorted and tapped her glass. “He’s a few shots in already.”
“You think?” Dean asked.
You nodded in agreement, rolling your eyes. If there was one thing you could count on, it was for Nick Savage to be drinking.
“He knows how to act when everyone’s watching,” you said. 
You looked up at the high-vaulted ceilings and expensive artwork on the walls, not noticing how Dean glanced at you with the edge of a frown.
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At the very least, the food was excellent. It was served in a large back room that served as a banquet hall, meant for entertaining.
There you and Dean actually had a good time, with you sipping on red wine and Dean on a glass of the “good stuff,” all while playing cards with Andréa and Benny and a few of your coworkers on the sales team.
“I just can’t believe Adam quit, to join our main competitor, no less,” said Marv. “I had absolutely no idea he was thinking of leaving.”
He was the team gossip. He prided himself on knowing every coming and going on the sales floor, which confounded you, since Marv was also a bit of a hermit. He either kept to his office like it was a bomb shelter, or you could catch him in the break lounge grabbing yet another coffee, all the while keeping his ear perked up for scraps of conversation.
“Yeah, you did, Marv,” you replied with a smirk. “You’re the one who saw Adam’s resignation letter on his own desk.”
He hadn’t even handed said letter to Nick yet.
“Well, I knew it then, obviously,” Marv said, with his hands open wide. “It leaves us without a manager…which I think, not for long.”
His eyes met yours knowingly.
You smiled. “We’ll see. I think Josh is playing kiss-ass tonight.”
You turned your head and spotted Nick and Josh taking shots of tequila together at the bar, with the latter wincing at the burn with a lime peel in his mouth. Josh’s wife was sitting off to the side, rolling her eyes.
Your gaze focused on your boss for a moment. You shook your head at the state of him, with a loose tie and the top buttons undone on his shirt, laughing boisterously and egging Josh on.
Fucking frat bros.
“That’s your boss, huh?” Benny remarked.
“In all his Cuervo-stained glory,” Marv replied. He shook his head as well.    
It made you realize something.
As nice a time as you’d been having, for about an hour at most, your good mood soured the moment you were reminded of the office politics. Of Josh and Nick and everything in between. Was this really what you wanted for the rest of your career?
The rest of your life?
Maybe Dean was right, you thought. You knew you were good at your job. You knew you were fortunate to even have a job that paid your bills…but maybe “being good” wasn’t enough for you.
If there was one thing you’d learned from your grandfather’s death, it was that peace was precarious. And sacrificing too many parts of yourself, for money, wasn’t a fulfilling life or even a happy one.
You wanted to be happy. You also wanted peace.
So you leaned over and laid a hand on Dean’s, which rested on the round table.
“Hey,” you whispered.
His head bowed near yours. “Hmm?”
“Wanna get out of here?” you asked. He raised his brows at you.
“Really? I thought you needed to stay and schmooze with your people,” he replied.
You smiled and drew your thumb across the inside of his wrist. “I think I’m done.”
Dean looked a bit confused. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you nodded. And you brushed your lips against the corner of his mouth. “You were right. It’s not worth it.”
A flicker of a smile began to tug at his lips, but his brows drew together.
“Hey. Are you sure?” he asked. “Don’t bow out just because of me—”
Your hand tightened on his wrist.
“No, baby. It’s me. My choice,” you said. “Let me just use the restroom real quick, and we can go.”
Dean nodded, and you stood.  
“What, are you leaving?” Andréa asked. She was tucked into Benny’s side with a piece of red velvet cake poised on her fork. “You didn’t even finish your cake!”
You laughed. Turning down dessert was a big deal for you, but you’d live.
“It’s okay,” you said. “I just need to call it a night, but I’ll be back in a sec to say goodbye. Hold on.”
Andréa blew out a breath as you walked away from the table.
“She’s gonna miss the White Elephant gift exchange. Last year, someone got a 60” smart TV,” she said.
Benny whistled.
“I wouldn’t mind an upgrade,” he said. He shot Dean a glance. “What do you think the guys would do if we showed up with something like that to the station?”
Dean scoffed. “I think the Chief would have a damn conniption.”
Bobby was old-school. He thought they had enough distractions from the job as it was.
“Probably right,” Benny chuckled.
Andréa smiled in amusement. But her eyes clocked the way Nick glanced your way as you walked by, down the hall and to the right. She sipped at her glass of pinot grigio to wash down the rich cake.
Still, she discreetly watched the man down another shot before he took his leave of the bar. He laughed at something Josh said and waved him off.
She gave Nick credit for not stumbling on his feet, and only swaying slightly on the same path you took down the hall. It didn’t mean he was following you, necessarily. This house was like a small Smithsonian. And yet, something niggled in the back of her mind. 
Andréa remembered how you’d acted at dinner the other day when talking about Nick. And how drained you’d seemed lately when she saw you after work. She’d thought that was just about finding your way after George’s death…
Marv distracted her with a question as Dean and Benny continued to talk, and she answered him with her usual charm. But she kept one eye on the hallway, waiting for you to come back.
She made it about another minute before she turned to Benny and Dean, leaning in close.
“Hey, Dean,” she said. “Maybe you want to check on her? She’s taking a while.”
Dean didn’t look concerned as he checked his watch. It hadn’t been all that long, but he still pulled out his phone to text you.
“She left her purse here,” Andréa said. She started to get up out of her seat. “I’m just gonna go see if she’s okay.”
Benny grabbed her hand before she left the table.
“What’s wrong, babe?” he asked. 
“I’m not sure,” she said, but she met Dean’s confused gaze. “Okay, look. I’ve been noticing some things with her recently. I have no evidence except for how well I know that woman, but something’s off with her. It happens every time she talks about that asshole Nick.”
Dean’s brows furrowed as he tried to read between the lines.
“What’re you saying exactly?” he asked.
Andréa let out a breath. “I’m saying, I’ve got a bad feeling.”
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You hummed as you washed your hands in the bathroom. Wine runs right through me. I should know better.
You’d also been trying to quell your anxieties and just get through the night. But you realized now that there was no kind of calm like the peace you had, now that you knew what you needed to do. Starting tomorrow, you were going to start looking for a new job.
A knock at the door made you jolt slightly.
“Someone’s in here!” you called without looking over your shoulder. You finished washing your hands and dried them on the hand towel hanging on a silver wall rack.
The door cracked open, but before you could protest, a man stumbled in.
Of fucking course it was Nick Savage.
“Excuse me?!” you breathed in shock. You watched with wide eyes as he pushed the door closed and seemed to take notice of you for the first time. He smirked.
“Oh, hey,” he said. Somehow, he was only slurring a little. He straightened his white blazer. The black satin shirt he wore was wrinkled and he smelled heavily of tequila, and that was with a couple of feet of distance between you two.
Your shock finally melted into a glare. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Gotta take a leak. It’s my house after all,” he shrugged, leaning a hand on the wall closest to the door for balance.
You shook your head, and with a huff, you tried to get by him.
His hand wrapped around your arm. “Hey, we didn’t get a chance to catch up tonight.”
You shoved his hand off of you.
“Don’t you ever in your life touch me again,” you warned him. Your eyes were as hard as your voice. “I don’t think there’s anyone on the planet—no. In the whole damn universe who sickens me more than you, Nick Savage.”
Nick straightened a little, frowning at you. Whatever he saw in your gaze, he didn’t seem to like the challenge. When you reached for the doorknob again, he grabbed your arm and shoved you hard into the nearest wall.
You gasped as the air rushed out of your lungs. Before you even realized what was happening, you felt his clammy hands on your bare shoulders, his hot alcoholic breath on your face. You raised your hands in defense, pushing against his chest.
He was taller and stronger and pinned you harder against the wall, with his knee shoving its way between your legs. You stared up with wide eyes of fear, and his hand clamped over your mouth to stifle your scream.
Your nails bit into his arm and wrist, trying to peel back his sweaty hand, just an inch to free your voice and let you breathe. To your left you heard the door bang open.
Please—
And the hand was peeled away entirely.
You could only blink and watch as Dean barreled through, grabbing Nick and bodily hurling him away. Nick opened his mouth to spout something angrily, but Dean continued to stalk forward and grab the man again.
Nick attempted a lazy swing at Dean’s head, but he bat it away. His fist connected roughly with Nick’s face, snapping his head back with a cry.
It was almost too fast for you to track what was happening right in front of you, but Dean dragged the drunkard the rest of the way across the bathroom, even over the tub, and slammed him against the beige tile so hard that it knocked a few of them loose. Nick’s head smacked audibly against them and he groaned at the impact.
The men were around the same height, but Dean was honed by years of firefighting and fueled by rage. One hand gripped high on Nick’s collar, while his arm pressed against the man’s chest. Then into his throat.
“Give me a reason,” Dean said, in a voice much calmer than he felt. Behind his eyes was wildfire.
“What?” Nick choked.
You finally broke through enough of your shock to know you had to do something.
“Dean!” you uttered. You cautiously went to him, but he glanced at you over his shoulder in warning.
“Stay there,” he told you firmly. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” you said, even though your voice shook. “Let’s just go.”
Despite the blood dripping down from his likely bruised nose, Nick chortled a laugh. It earned Dean’s slow head turn, returning his attention to the decision at hand. His fist tightened in Nick’s shirt.
“You heard me,” Dean said. His voice was laced with steel. “I said give me a reason not to break your miserable fucking neck.”
“Dean,” you gasped.
“Not sure that’s a good idea, fireman,” Nick slurred. “I clearly don’t have all my wits about me right now. Can’t be held lia…li-ble for my actions, now can I? I’ll have your badge by end of the week.”
You let out a harsh breath and finally went to Dean. You laid a hand on his back. Every muscle was tense and straining under his white dress shirt.
“Dean,” you pressed. “Let him go. He’s not worth it.”
Nick smirked lazily in Dean’s face. It was the look of a man who was used to getting his way.
“I’d listen to her,” he said, with a mocking glint in his eyes. “Or I could just fire her on Monday. Make it easy on myself.”
Dean seethed. His forearm slowly rolled harder into the man’s neck, pressing on his windpipe. The sounds of choked air were satisfying.
“Yeah, or I’ll have the police down here in ten minutes or less,” said Dean. “I’ll clue you in on a little something. My dad’s a cop. I’ll reckon he’ll be happy to put a fucking douchebag like you in the can with the real charmers.”
Dean gave a mocking glance to Nick’s silk shirt, his gold pinky ring and loafers.
“How long do you think it’ll take for one of ‘em to make you their little bitch?” Dean said.
Nick glared back at him, with a frisson of intimidation behind his eyes. He glanced at you over his shoulder. Dean noticed and tightened his hold.
“Don’t you look at her, you piece of shit!” he warned. His voice was low and dangerous. “Make your choice. You gonna come down to the station easy, or difficult? Please say difficult.”
Nick held up placating hands. He shifted uncomfortably against the wall; one foot was planted on the ground while the other was in the tub. The shower curtain was half off its hooks.
Dean eased up enough for Nick to take a breath.
“Okay, let’s say we do that,” he said, with a cough. “I’ll get bail. Then I’ll fucking walk, ‘cause I own this town.” 
“You mean your dad does,” you snapped.
Nick rolled his eyes. “Same name, same shit, sweetheart.”
Dean grit his teeth and tightened his grip again in warning. You wrapped your hand around his arm, but he didn’t budge.
Nick met his eyes.
“How about this. Get your greasy fucking hands off me, and we’ll call tonight a wash,” he proposed. “No foul, we all take our balls and go home.”
He then snorted at his own joke. “Balls…”
Dean tilted his head, but didn’t move a muscle. “Or?”
Once again, Nick smirked.
“I’ll report you to your boss for assaulting me in my own house. And uh, she’ll be fired, obviously.” He shrugged. “By the time my lawyers get done with her, she won’t be able to sling lattes at Starbucks.”
Dean’s face was stony, tight with outrage. His whole body was coiled like a spring as every cell in his body fought against ripping this man apart.
But he still felt your hands around his arm, trying to pull him back.
“Dean, don’t. He’s not worth your career. Please,” you begged.
The bathroom door pushed open again, and he heard Benny’s voice.
“Hey, brother.” He dropped a careful hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Come on, now. You got him. Ease up now.”
Dean’s teeth ground together. He looked down, and his stare bored into Nick’s. Dean pressed his forearm into the other man’s throat again, enough to almost feel the give as the man struggled for breath.
“Remember how that feels,” Dean said icily. “20579, Dean Winchester. The next time you want to threaten my badge, that’s my number.”
Nick’s eyes widened slightly. At the time, Dean took it as fear. But really, it was recognition.
Winchester, Nick thought.
Dean then leaned in closer, so only Nick would hear his next lowered words.
“First and last warning,” Dean said. “If you touch her again. If I hear anything more about you giving her a hard time, not a dime in the world is gonna save you from me.”
When Dean finally pulled his arm away and let go, Nick’s face was red and spluttering as he coughed and slumped into the bathtub.
Dean turned on his heel in anger and disgust. Andréa was supporting you with her arm around yours, but she released you to let Dean take over. You stared up at him with tearful eyes, and you reached for his hand.
He took it with his left, holding you steady. He then wrapped an arm around your shoulders and guided you out of the bathroom.
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The air was tense and silent inside the Impala. It was a long drive back to your house, and Dean hadn’t looked at you once in 20 minutes. His gaze was firmly on the road. He hadn’t even turned on the radio.
You had his suit jacket draped around your frame, but your insides still felt cold. You glanced over at him and stared at his profile for a moment, wishing you knew what to say to break the silence. To reassure him that you were fine. (Even though it would've been a lie.)
He felt your stare and turned his head towards you.
“How long has this been going on?” he asked. His voice was gruff. “Andréa said she’s been noticing something off about you for a while.”
Your lips pressed together. “Can this part wait until we get home…please?”
Dean’s jaw ticked, but he turned back to the road ahead.
The car was silent for the rest of the hour.
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It was a relief to turn the key into the door lock and step through the threshold of your house. Dean followed you inside and tossed his wallet and car keys on the side table by the door.
Somehow he always managed to miss the little basket you put there for exactly those things, but you weren’t about to remind him.
You slipped off your heels and went into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, to steady yourself. Dean leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. He didn’t say anything, but you still felt his eyes on you.
With a sigh, you turned and met his gaze.
“Just tell me,” he said. “How long?”
You took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly.
“It started before I even met you, Dean.” 
His brows raised high. He tilted his head at you as incredulous anger tightened his face.
“What?” he said. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”
You shook your head and grabbed his arm. “Okay, come here.”
You led him into the living room and sat beside him on the couch. You explained that it started small, with compliments on your clothes, your hair. Then it was lingering looks, “innocent” brushes of his hand, touching your arm, your shoulder.
When you’d tried to put distance between you and Nick, the drunken shenanigans began. The comments grew heinous and sickening, and so did his threats.
And nothing you did worked. Not distance and professionalism. Not refusing his advances outright. Not threatening to go to HR.
All while you spoke, Dean was quiet, but on edge. You saw it in how he gripped his knee, with his other hand fisted against his mouth, elbow resting on his thigh.
But the hardest part of the conversation came when you told Dean about the day of the car accident—how Nick had demanded you come to his office and gave you a sickening ultimatum.
At that, Dean could no longer remain still. He got up and started to pace across the living room. He was a man of action, you knew, and his reaction was almost everything you’d feared.
I should've told him, you thought. You knew.
Although you now felt relieved, even in your guilt, you also knew this next part wasn’t going to be fun either. Because Dean finally erupted.
“And you didn’t tell anyone?” he asked.
Briefly, you closed your eyes. “No.”
“Why? Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” His hand buried itself in his hair as his jaw clenched. Even if your friend Andréa hadn’t known, she’d still seen enough to suspect something. It completely blew his mind, in the worst of ways.
“Jesus Christ!” he shook his head. “Why am I always the last one to know when something’s going on with you?”
Tears watered in your eyes as you looked up at him. You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off.
“I mean, really. What are we doing here, huh?” he exclaimed, his hands open wide. “Honestly, tell me. Because if you can’t trust me, then I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
Your eyes widened, a trill of panic lacing down your spine. You stood up and went to him. 
“Dean, please, it wasn’t about that,” you said. You implored him with your eyes to understand. “I wanted to tell someone…God, you don’t know how bad I wanted to tell you. But I knew how you’d react. Just like this. I didn’t want to make the situation worse!”
He frowned deeply. “You didn’t want help? You didn’t want me to protect you?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you snapped. But then, you sucked in a shaking breath, trying to calm yourself. You got closer and rested a hand against his chest.
“Of course I’m grateful that you protected me. Dean, I love you for it.”
You grasped the ends of his jacket with both hands. All you really wanted to do was bury yourself in his warmth and sleep for the next ten years. You were still raw and frayed inside.
Dean looked down at you, and his heart clenched. He couldn’t help but hold you back. His arms wound around your lower back as he pulled you against him. His chin rested above your head, and you sighed in relief.
“I thought I could handle it,” you confessed, in a smaller voice. “I worked so damn hard…I wanted to fight for my job. But Nick knew I didn’t have the money or the resources to fight back for real if I reported him, or even if I sued him. And before tonight, I didn’t have enough to take to the police.”
Dean pulled away just enough to see your face. He grasped your arms, gentle but firm.
“I’ll take you to the station right now,” he said. “My dad can help you. Hell, Sam can help you.”
You bit your lip and shook your head.   
“You heard him, Dean. With his money and connections, he’ll get off. And then he’ll make both of our lives hell,” you said. “He’ll go after your badge—”
“He can fucking try,” he snapped.
“Stop, okay? I don’t want that,” you pleaded.
A sharp breath escaped through his nose, and he let you go.
“You’re fucking impossible, you know that?” he said. “How can I help you if you won’t let me?”
He was beside himself with frustration, and even hurt. You knew it in the way he tried to walk away from you, but you reached for his arm to stop him, with tears burning in your eyes. You didn’t want him to think that you didn’t want his support. That you didn’t trust him.
Because that couldn’t have been any farther from the truth.
“I’m sorry!” Your tears finally escaped, trailing down your cheeks. You tugged him back towards you, earning his furrowed glance. “I was…scared. I…I didn’t know what to do. Maybe I just didn’t want to deal with it at all.”
The longer Dean looked at your face, the more he crumbled.
Once again, he turned to gather you back into his arms. And there your tears fell in earnest. Your body trembled with quiet sobs, and he held you tighter. His heart broke a little more as his hand soothed over your hair. He shushed you more gently, pressing his lips to your forehead.
“Okay. It’s okay. Don’t apologize. You shouldn’t have had to deal with this, let alone for this damn long,” Dean said. His gaze raised heavenward for a moment as he mentally kicked himself. You didn’t deserve this, or his anger either. 
He just couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed any signs, like Andréa had. All these months… It threatened to drive him up a fucking wall.
“You’re safe, and I’ve got you,” he said, continuing to hold you securely against him. “We’ll handle this, like everything else.”
After a moment, you nodded, letting out another shaky breath. You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face into his chest.
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You already knew you must’ve looked a state, after the night you’d had, but you didn’t truly realize it until you were looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Mascara and lipstick smudged, hair disheveled, tears staining your cheeks.
Ugh. You hastily scrubbed your face clean with makeup wipes. Then you tamed your hair, brushing through the frizz and calming it back into relative normalcy.
You went for the zipper of your dress next, but you couldn’t get it down all the way. You turned to look over your shoulder.
“Dean,” you called. 
He was in your room, rifling through his bag to grab the clothes he’d brought to sleep in.
“Yeah?” he answered.
“Come ‘ere a sec?”
He obliged you, drawing into the bathroom. His white dress shirt was only half unbuttoned, the sleeves rolled up. You met his eyes in the mirror.
“Can you unzip me?” you asked.
Dean looked down where your hands were holding both sides of the zipper on your dress. He took one side from you and unzipped it the rest of the way, stopping at the small of your back. He caught sight of the red, sheer lingerie underneath.
Noticing the way he paused, you smiled slightly. You turned toward him and tugged the dress down the rest of the way, so he could see the rest of the ensemble. It was a simple corset-style nightie, but true to your word, the lace was paired with satin trim lines.
Your hands ran up his sternum and undid the last buttons on his shirt. You grasped near his collar and leaned up on your toes for a slow kiss. Dean unconsciously held you to him by your shoulders, his eyes closing at the feel of you.
But when they next opened, he caught sight of the bruise on your shoulder. It was about the size of a thumbprint.
His throat tightened. After a moment, he parted from you, but he didn’t continue where you left off. You looked up at him in confusion.
“Baby?” you asked.
Dean shook his head. He couldn’t answer you; couldn’t even articulate what the hell was in his head. So he just turned and went back into the room for his change of clothes. It left you frowning, bereft, and worried.
You changed into an old shirt and some shorts before you got into bed. You slipped under the covers and watched Dean. He sat with his back to you as he unclipped his watch and set it down on the nightstand. By now he’d changed into his faded, gray Lawrence Fire Department shirt and a pair of sweatpants.
Your throat constricted with emotion, namely with anxiety.
“Are you still mad at me?” you asked.
Dean paused. He glanced back at you, saw you laying there with a hand gripped into the covers. His brows furrowed when he saw your shining tears.
He turned and got into bed with you. He slid his arm under your head and wordlessly encouraged you to come closer. His free hand soothed across your arm.
“I’m not mad at you,” he said at last. But he was still upset, and deeply unsettled. As the night replayed in his mind, he knew that at the root of his fury, there was fear. 
“I just keep thinking,” he said. “What would’ve happened if I hadn’t called out of work tonight.”
You looked down at that. You laid a hand on his chest.
“I wouldn’t have gone to the party,” you said. Though if you were honest with yourself, you probably would’ve thought yourself safe with Benny and Andréa. “I just…I really didn’t think he would try to—”
You tried to take a breath to steady yourself, but it was a tremulous release. The memory flashed behind your eyes, the remnants of panic and fear under your skin.
You didn’t realize you were crying until Dean’s hand was caressing your cheek, brushing away your tears.
“All right, shhh. I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s over,” he said. Once again, he pulled you into his arms and held you close. Guilt hit him between the ribs for upsetting you all over again. “I promise you’re safe, and I’ve got you.”
You did your best to take in deep breaths, letting them out more steadily. Dean wanted to put the matter to bed for tonight. He really did…but he couldn’t help pressing one last thing.
“Just tell me you’re not going back there on Monday, unless it’s to HR,” he said. 
You paused, shook your head a little. You didn’t want to rev him up again, but you knew Nick. 
“He doesn’t make idle threats, Dean,” you reminded him. “But there’s a reason why he waited until tonight, at his house. He’s not going to try his luck at the office, where everyone’s watching.”
“You don’t know that,” Dean retorted.
You saw his point, but you almost didn’t want to acknowledge it. You couldn’t afford to quit.
“I still need my job, for now,” you said. “But I will start looking for something else, so I can get out as soon as possible. I promise.”
Dean wasn’t happy. Both of you knew it. You also sensed that he wanted to argue more, but was holding back for now. You appreciated that.
You truly didn’t want to get into it anymore with him. You just wanted to close your eyes and try to forget about tonight, knowing that you’d fail. 
Dean still held you, with his hands rubbing up and down your back. His touch and his heartbeat soothed you until you managed to fall asleep. 
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AN: Dean knows, and it ain't pretty. What did you think of the confrontation? Unfortunately, I'm drawing from real events here (not myself).
Next Time:
The mystery of "Azazel" thickens, Dean deals with another tricky fire, and the reader has a realization of her own...
“Yeah, well. This one’s a rat bastard in human clothing,” you replied.
“Ooh, sounds like my old biology professor,” Jo chimed in. She was drying out some newly clean glasses behind the counter along with Ellen. “He had a reputation for scoping out freshman girls.”
You made a gagging sound as you reached for the delectable martini glass Ellen slid your way.
“Men are disgusting,” you said. Jo snorted.
“99.8% of them, yeah,” she said. But her gaze drew towards the door when Dean Winchester came in. And she added, “A few of ‘em are all right.”
Was it just you, or was there a softer look in her blue eyes when she noticed Dean?
Keep Reading: PART 14
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Dean Winchester Masterlist
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blurredcolour · 1 year
Text
You Oughta Know
Summary: Your blossoming relationship with Bradley Bradshaw had been utterly unexpected and as your feelings for him deepen, you feel an increasing pressure to share something that might change his mind about a future with you.
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS)
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Discussion of Endocrine Disorders and Possible Infertility, Discussion of Medical Procedures, Reader Likes Trader Joe's White Queso Dip - Rating T.
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Author’s Note: I’ve lived with PCOS the majority of my life. I recognize that it is significantly understudied as it does not affect men directly and that the experience of this disorder is very different for every individual. Therefore, I’ve based this off my experiences specifically.
Word Count: 1807
Bradley Bradshaw had not been what you were looking for. You had, in fact, been looking for a jar of white queso. Had made a special trip to Trader Joe’s to get the only kind that would have satisfied your craving, only to watch the last jar disappear into the basket of a broad-shouldered, six-foot tall brunette male in a green flight suit. You had made an involuntary noise of dismay and drawn the attention of his caramel-coloured eyes, finding it suddenly very difficult to fully inflate your lungs.
A comedy of manners had ensued, each of you insisting the other take the jar, until you stated that he simply had to have it as he had gotten there first before hitting him with a ‘thank you for your service’ and fleeing the aisle. He had been unspeakably handsome and overwhelming. You had been quite pleased with your continued ability to form coherent sentences throughout the encounter. Rewarding yourself with a box of frozen treats, you had unwrapped one to eat on the way back to your car.
The universe had rewarded you with a flat tire. Being the independent woman that you are, you had been in the process of trying to loosen the first lug nut, with both a tire iron and some very colourful language, when a familiar figure had appeared at the back of your vehicle. It had been both annoying and arousing how easily he removed your flat before securing the spare, all the while asking just the right questions to get to know you without coming off as alarming. You had ended up sharing the jar of queso and a bag of taco chips in the backseat of his bronco – winding up with the dip and the guy.
Three actual dates in and it was going shockingly well. Spectacularly, even, if the lingering goodnight kiss pressed against your front door at the end of your last date was any indication. The more time you spent with him, the more you found you had in common with one another. It only made you want to know him better. Not to mention his very presence left you somewhat breathless.
So, as you walked hand-in-hand along the Broken Hill Trail in Torrey Pines State Natural Reserve just outside San Diego after work one Friday, you could not help but notice the way his eyes would follow little family groups that crossed your path. The way his lips would twitch into a smile at a particularly cute baby or precocious child insisting on taking the rough hewn stairs on their own. His smile was always infectious, usually planting an echoing expression on your face, but this evening was different.
While you in no way had been deceitful, the sour twist in the pit of your stomach felt exactly as though you had been lying to him in some way. You had known since the age of thirteen, when the specialist had diagnosed you with polycystic ovarian syndrome, that children would maybe not be in the cards for you. At that age it had felt like a free pass. You were put on birth control to ensure regular menstruation, and basically told that unintended pregnancy would not be an issue for you.
As you had made your way through your twenties, however, your perspective had changed. Watching the lengths that some women with your endocrine disorder went through to conceive, you felt a responsibility to share the reality of your reproductive situation with partners you felt serious about. And yes, it was probably too early, but there was something about Bradley that set a fire beneath your sternum, one that you could not ignore. You felt as though you owed it to him, especially with the portions of his story that he had shared with you so far.
“Do you want kids, Bradley?” You blurted out, nearly missing a step as his head whipped around to face you, his aviator sunglasses barely clinging to his face through the force of his motion.
Somehow he had found time after work to change into a pair of jeans that hung on his body just right and a Hawaiian shirt that would have looked ridiculous on someone else but somehow suited him just right, with a white tank top underneath. While the hike you two had chosen was by no means arduous, the heat of the day was lingering as the sun sank lower in the sky, covering his tan skin in an attractive sheen of sweat. You chose not to dwell on what you probably looked like right now.
“I…I mean yeah I guess…” he huffed out a nervous laugh, and you sank your teeth into your lower lip, feeling somewhat guilty at your ambush as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously with his free hand. “Yes.” He tacked on with more confidence, squeezing your interlaced fingers.
“Mmm.” You hummed thoughtfully in reply as it felt as though your heart dropped through the ground beneath your feet, losing your nerve as he confirmed your suspicions.
The pair of you reached the top of the incline you had been ascending, stepping out onto one of the scenic outlooks along the hiking route. Bradley allowed you to silently lead him to the fence at the edge of the cliff, leaving footprints in the sand that collected atop the rock. You could feel his gaze burning into the side of your head, the intensity of it growing the longer you remained silent.
“Just mmm?” He prodded quietly, interrupting the sound of the waves lapping at the beach below and your internal musings about possibly throwing yourself off the cliff to avoid this altogether.
“I…I just…” You tried, but the words were clinging stubbornly to your tongue. “…shit…” You hissed at yourself under your breath before pressing your lips together in a thin line. It had never been this difficult before.
You felt his hands grip the front of your hips before, in a blur of movement, he lifted and turned your body to perch you on the top fence rail. Facing him now, you were nearly at his eye level and had nowhere to hide.
“What’s going on?” He asked gently, his hold on you simultaneously supporting you and caging you in.
The contrast between his gentle tone and the strength of his body was thrilling. Was one of many reasons why your heart was now rabbiting in your throat.
“It might be really hard for me to have kids…” You blurted out, watching his reaction with bated breath. As the icy grip of fear seized you, you realized now why it had been so hard to say. You had never cared about someone’s reaction quite so much.
“Gonna be fun trying, though.” He flashed a devastating, lopsided grin before slotting his mouth against yours.
His plush, warm lips easily coaxed yours open to allow his tongue to lick into your mouth. You quickly reached out to grasp his biceps, fingers curling into the colourful fabric of his shirt as his slick, wet muscle slid along yours, almost erasing every coherent thought inside your head.
“No, it won’t…” You sighed sadly against his lips as he eventually pulled back, fighting through the dizzying aftereffects of his kiss to explain as he clearly did not understand the extent of it. “I can’t even bleed without medical intervention, Bradley…copious amounts of sex aren’t going to cut it.” You pulled back to look at him properly. “Endless appointments. Injections. A never-ending cycle of hope and disappointment. IVF. Massive amounts of money. Years, maybe. Might not even be possible…It’s just. It’s something you oughta know. You’re a busy man with an important career. When there are women out there who get pregnant with twins just from looking at them, don’t want you to waste your time.”
As you spoke, you could feel his grip on your hips tightening, see the muscles in his jaw and neck tensing, but those damned sunglasses hid his eyes from view. Swallowing nervously, you turned your head to the side, focusing on the long light of sunset playing on the waves below. Bradley’s face suddenly flooded your field of vision as he leaned in to catch your eyes with his, his aviators now hanging from the collar of his white undershirt. You hadn’t even noticed his one hand leave your hip. You blinked rapidly, trying to pull your eyes into focus on the much-closer target.
“Did you just call yourself a waste of time?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow before pecking your lips. “Because that’s wholly untrue…” He planted another kiss, the coarse hair of his moustache tickling your upper lip, drawing an involuntary giggle from you and sigh of relief from him. He straightened and gently lifted the sunglasses from your nose with his free hand, settling them atop your head while still holding you steady on the fence with the other. “Do you want children?” He asked with a tilt of his head, eyes never leaving yours.
You took a deep breath, considering your answer, before exhaling slowly.
“Honestly, I’ve…never really allowed myself to really think about it? It feels about as easy as going to the moon so…”
“JFK said we should go to the moon because it was difficult, and we made it.” He reassured you gently, brushing the backs of his fingers down your cheek.
You opened your mouth to reply. Perhaps to correct the quote as ‘not because it was easy but because it was hard,’ or perhaps to remind him that it took four percent of the federal budget to achieve, but the words had congealed into a lump in your throat that you couldn’t dislodge, no matter how hard you swallowed. You slid your arms around his neck and arched up, pulling his lips back onto yours, replying with a deep kiss instead; your tongue seeking his as your fingers twined into the hair at the nape of his neck.
“’Sides…” He rasped when you eventually allowed him a chance to breathe, thumb swiping at a tear that had stolen down your cheek unbeknownst to you. “Never met anyone who likes white queso as much as me…Who else am I gonna eat it with?” He teased and nipped your lower lip.
A breath shuddered past your lips as your heart swelled in your chest, suddenly feeling too full for the confines of your ribcage.
“Rooster?” You licked your lips, delighting in his sharp intake of breath at your first use of his call sign. “You want come over for a drink?” You gnawed on your lower lip again, this time in eager anticipation.
The man had never moved so fast, rumbling a hasty ‘yes’ before helping you down from the fence rail and eagerly leading you back toward the parking lot.
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skxllz · 9 months
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“ damn, you're fuckin’ that up, angel. ”
you paused your chewing to slowly side eye paul.
said blonde was grinning with a mouth full of taco bell's famous crunch wrap. you lot went to the fast-food place because you were craving one of their quesadilla's, so the boys decided to get something for themselves as well.
they never had tried it before believe it or not, and now you have paul and marko hooked. david still seems to prefer human... but he says it's okay. and dwayne just hasn't said anything.
he seems to like his burrito, though.
“ an’ whaboutet - ” you spoke, resuming your chews. sour cream seemed to make a living on the side of your lip, but you paid no mind to it.
paul, however, grinned and jumped a few scoots over to you. leaning forward, thumb outstretched, he swiped over the ‘cream before popping said digit into his mouth.
“ nothin’, ” he casually spoke, sucking away the sour cream. you scrunched your face up at his actions. “ I like to watch my baby eat. means your healthy. ” he shrugged, while turning back towards his own food, taking a bite.
your face softened at his words. he really cares that much?
you always enjoyed the little things, so him saying that warmed your heart.
“ yeah... ” you mumbled, flickering your eyes onto his hunched figure. “ thanks, paulie. ”
he paused, wide blue eyes moving to look at you. swiping his tongue over his bottom lip to catch the sauce, that had dripped. “ for what? ”
you grinned widely at him. “ for being a big dope. ”
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comradekatara · 4 months
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Here's a completely random ask for you: what holiday (halloween, valentine's day, national ice cream day, etc.) would each member of the Gaang feel unreasonably strongly about? Can be positive or negative feelings.
oh this is a good question! (i hate so many american commercial holidays so this is a great avenue for me to project my frustrations with us capitalism onto these little guys. and to be clear im just doing us holidays bc otherwise there would simply be too many options and i’d be stuck here forever)
aang: he’s not enough of a hater to dislike any holidays. he’s a big fan of april fool’s day, valentine’s day, and halloween, because he appreciates fun and joy and love and merriment duh
katara: every thanksgiving she goes on an impassioned rant about the historical revisionism of the us empire deployed as a propaganda tool as it continues its genocidal imperialist project and the absolutely sick and twisted audacity of americans to celebrate a known lie in a mockery of the atrocities committed from the past into the present (this one may or may not just have been me, yesterday). every november-december she goes on an impassioned rant about the commercialism of christmas, and how it’s largely a fake holiday devised by capitalists to glorify the sanctity of the nuclear family, and how the supposed “secularization” of christmas is in fact a product of christian hegemony, it’s propaganda and you’re all falling for it because you crave hollow comforts in your cold and dismal life, and instead of attempting to look beyond the scraps you are given under capitalism you all just force yourselves to enjoy a facade of happiness and nostalgia because you refuse to admit that you’re fundamentally uncomfortable in your society!!!!!!!! (this is what i think but wisely refrain from saying because it’s not worth it. katara, however...) also she likes valentine’s day sometimes (depending on whether or not she has a boyfriend). she also has a lot to say on columbus day and the fourth of july of course, but this bullet point is already far too long.
sokka: his favorite holiday is pi day. he does not care for any other us holiday (but he has been known to enjoy a halloween here and there), but he specifically hates april fools because aang insists on pranking him every time, for some godforsaken reason. (he’s just so prankable!)
toph: her least favorite holiday is valentine’s day because it promotes m*rriage, one of her most hated institutions (it’s a long list). her favorite day is taco tuesday
zuko: he insists on celebrating shakespeare’s birth/deathday as if it is a real holiday that anyone actually cares about. and he gets offended when no one else cares. his least favorite holiday is the fourth of july, but not for any political reasons, it just has really bad vibes.
suki: she loves halloween because it has everything you could ever ask for in a single day: dressing in elaborate costume, eating so much candy, and getting really drunk. she’s also one of those people who gets really obnoxious on 4/20, at which point mai is like “you know it’s hitler’s birthday, right?” and immediately kills the vibe. just because she can :)
mai: she has a love/hate relationship with halloween, because theoretically it’s a celebration of the gothic, the liminal, the macabre, the ghostly. but in practice it’s just an excuse for everyone around her to get wasted. she hates christmas more though. santa freaks her out and cloying, forced cheer and merriment is unnerving and infuriating, actually.
ty lee: she dreads valentine’s day every year because she simply has too many suitors and it is very stressful. she likes april fool’s day because it gives her the opportunity to exercise her more devious inclinations. she can prank people so well they don’t even know they’re being pranked; on april first the world is her playground.
azula: she has no real opinion on any specific holidays. they’re petty distractions for mindless drones who require a modicum of frivolity here and there to spice up their otherwise dull, worthless lives. however, she quite likes tax day.
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stupd000 · 3 months
Text
‘Rough’
Short Angel/David drabble bc i was bored and yk it’s Angel/David
CW//Pretty nsfw at one point, cursing, blueballed?😭 but make it cute
ENJOY!!
Today was a rough day at work for Angel. Their laptop stopped working halfway through the day, and they had to work on a chunky old monitor for the rest of it, which threw off their entire system. None of their stuff was where it was, none of their aesthetically pleasing backgrounds were there,
it just sucked
and then someone ate their lunch so they didn’t even get to enjoy their chicken crunch wrap after having to deal with a clunky, old, monitor.
Anyway, they got home from work, exhausted by just everything. Everything was just too much.
David, had a very different day.
David’s day was better than it usually was. No spats with Christian and Amanda, no jokes about Milo that he had to handle, none of the parents of the pack brought the babies to the meeting, so he didn’t have to deal with endless screaming, he forgot his lunch(that he wasn’t really excited to eat, it was cold meatloaf) so he ordered himself some Taco Bell and he ate that shit up.
So clearly, their moods were very different by the time they got home.
Angel gets home about 45 minutes before David, so once they got home they immediately got into pajamas and lied down.
They scrolled on their phone for most of the time that it took for David to get home, and once he did- their mood pretty much stayed the same.
Don’t get them wrong, they loved David more than anything, but seeing someone happy, and having a good day when yours was sucky..doesn’t feel too great.
Once David gave Angel a kiss and a hello, he went to their room to get unready.
The more David got unready, the more his thoughts turned to his Angel,
then the thoughts turned to..different ones
Anyway, now he’s walking out of their bedroom, half hard and craving his mate.
He walks up to the couch and plops down next to Angel, leaning on their shoulder as they scroll on their phone.
A-“Hi babe.”
David starts kissing their neck as he hums a quiet hello, his hand quickly travels to their inner thigh as Angel breaths in sharply,
A-“Babe?”
D-“mhm..?”
A-“Babe.”
David’s almost snaps up, looking at them worriedly, usually they’re not as hesitant, unless something wrong.
A-“‘M sorry, but I had a long day at work, a-and i don’t wanna throw a wrench in everyth-“
David stopped as soon as he heard the first sentence, moving his hand from between their thighs to around their shoulder, pulling them close to him.
A-“-and I know you had a good day and i’m fucking it all up an-“
D-“Angel.”
Angel stopped and looked at him, now realizing that the both of them are curled into the corner of the couch, and their heads on his shoulder.
D-“It’s okay.”
A-“Are you sure..?”
D-“I swear.”
David kisses their forehead before resting his head atop theirs,
A-“were you already..y’know..?”
D-“No Angel, it’s okay I swear.”
A-“I just-..”
Angel cuts themselves off, and lets out a long, guttural sigh.
A-“I’m sorry.”
D-“Angel look at me,”
Angel looks at him without hesitation, before letting out another sigh.
D-“I don’t ever, want you to feel bad, or guilty about not being able to..’perform’ or whatever, for me. I want you to feel safe to express that with me, you know you can right?”
A-“I know, I know I can. It’s just that you were in such a good mood, and I..wasn’t. I just didn’t want to make you feel bad in anyway, and it just feels shitty when you’re in a bad mood and the others not and it’s just-“
Angel makes some sort of expression with their hands before leaning their head into david’s chest.
A-“I dunno.”
D-“I get that, let’s just..relax, alright?”
Angel nods before leaning burying their face into the crook of David’s neck, inhaling.
A-“You smell good, like baby powder.”
D-“huh.”
A-“Not in a bad way, like the scented baby powder, like vanilla baby powder, Oh my gosh so my friend who had a daughter, you remember Tiffany, right? well I told her she smelled good and she was like ‘omg really? i have vanilla baby powder all over me’ and I was like what? I love the smell of baby powder and now this? And so I was like-“
David smiled as he listened to them ramble on about baby powder, and their friends, and anything they wanted.
All he wanted was for them to feel loved
To feel safe.
Hey guys, Sooo i haven’t written anything in a while. I don’t gotta excuse bc i was being lazy but here ya go.
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ghostfacd · 7 months
Note
he’s always making sure she doesn’t overwork herself and his favorite thing to do is to give her forehead kisses
also here to ask for a blurb on this 🤭
connor bedard x perfectionist!reader au
okaay so we all know that bells can be a bit too much when it comes to her academics. it started around when she was in the seventh grade and it never really ended, even after she entered yale. in fact, it may have gotten stronger ? bells has this mindset where she believes if she doesn’t do well in school, then she’s worth nothing so connor is always trying to help her through that.
“bells?” the voice of yn’s boyfriend momentarily stops her from writing her essay. she looks up at him with tired eyes, watching as he glances her with unease. “bells, have you eaten like, at all today?”
yn tries to nod but she knows connor can see right through her lies.
he sighs, marching over to her and placing both his arms around her neck. “i bought you some food, thought you’d might need it. my girl always ends up overworking herself,”
she looks up to meet his eyes, “i do not overwork myself, connie.”
connor smiles softly, brushing away a few strands of hair that has gotten in his girlfriend’s face. “okay lovely, but let’s eat, alright?”
he and yn sit on her bed while eating tacos. connor had heard about how yn was craving them earlier in the week, and made sure his girl’s cravings were fulfilled.
“wanna watch a movie?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.
“no con, i’ve got to finish this essay,”
connor shakes his head, immediately pulling the girl’s macbook out of her reach. “absolutely not, you’ve been working all day.”
he plays on a romcom in the background, placing soft kisses on his girlfriend’s forehead as she slowly falls asleep.
“goodnight bells, i love you.”
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hsgucci94 · 2 years
Text
Date night at home
Summary: The one where Harry cooks for you.
Content warning: it’s cute and hot at the same time?
Word count: 700
A/N: it actually scares me how well this picture fits
masterlist
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Every Friday night that Harry wasn't away on tour or filming a movie somewhere in America, you would make sure to turn it into a date night. Sometimes it meant going out for dinner, or to a concert or a party one of you had been invited to, but others it simply meant staying in cooking, finding a movie to watch and eating in front of the TV before ending up cuddling each other.
“What about Don’t Worry Darling? Have you heard about that one?,” he casually asked, smirking a bit.
He was chopping some pepper for your ‘taco night’, and you were sitting on the countertop while you watched him work, yours legs swinging a bit. He was in charge of the cooking while you would be the one doing the dishes later. That was how you had decided to split the tasks. When it came to you two, Harry was by far the better cook, and you didn’t mind at all cleaning after him, so you called that teamwork.
You instantly tilted your head back and laughed, “It’s not even on theatres yet, you narcissistic.”
He chuckled, and then jokingly clicked his tongue, pretending to be annoyed. “You’re right. We might have to wait a bit longer before we can watch it at home.”
“Any other movie suggestions or should I pick this time?”
“Didn’t we watch Dune because of you last week?,” he frowned, looking up from the countertop. Once he was finished chopping, he put the vegetables on the pan, ready to cook them.
You shrugged at his words, “So? What’s exactly your point?”
“My point is that… I’m the one picking the film today,” he chuckled, and cleaned his hands on the cloth that was tugged on his jeans and hung from his waist, before playfully squeezing your nose between his index and middle finger, a gesture that made you smile right away.
“But why?,” you whined, “You always enjoy the ones I suggest.”
“I do,” he nodded, “Don’t you like mine?”
You stayed silent for a bit, just a few seconds, but were enough to make him feel offended. “Hey!”
His childish tone made you giggle. “I do, I do like them, I promise!’” you quickly replied, “It’s just that… they’re romcoms most of the time.”
“How is that a problem?,” he frowned his eyebrows and lips, too focused on not burning the food in front of him to make eye contact with you.
“I’m looking for a bit of action today.”
“Oh, sweetheart…,” he chuckled again, his features relaxing while a smirk grew on his face, “If that’s what you want, then watching a film’s not the answer.”
You suffocated a laugh, smacking his arm. You then dramatically rolled your eyes, “Is sex all you have in mind, Styles?”
“It is when you’re in front of me with your legs spread open. I mean…, can you blame me?,” he turned the stove off, leaving the cloth on the countertop, before walking the two steps that kept him away from you. He rested both his hands on your knees, positioning himself between your legs.
Your faces were now at the same height, your noses brushing together as your eyes were fixed on his lips. You instantly bit your lower one, moving your hands to pass them around his shoulders and keep him glued to you.
“So…, we’re not eating dinner tonight, are we?,” you softly spoke.
He smiled, “Are you really that hungry?”
“I am…, but now I’m not sure tacos are exactly what I’m craving.”
His hands moved up your thighs and under your t-shirt. Or should you say his t-shirt? At that point, all your stay-at-home looks were made of clothes stolen from his wardrobe.
When Harry reached your braless chest, he cupped your boobs in his hands and gently squeezed them. You instinctively closed your eyes, your lips parting and your head falling slightly to the side. He leaned into your ear and whispered: “Then I hope it’s me you want because I need you so bad, love.”
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ihavemanyhusbands · 8 months
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I'm thinking of so many ideas for Richie rn and I need somewhere to put them lol But first, hi!! I hope you're having a great week! I have you to thank personally for making me love Richie lmao
a major one in my head right now is what he would do if reader had the munchies. I don't know how you feel about weed so feel free to skip this! But the idea of reader being high and needy while BEGGING Richie to get them McDonald's or something has me down badddd lol
(if you don't feel comfortable writing this I definitely have other ideas to send in ♡)
THANK U IM LITERALLY SO FLATTERED <3 🥲😭im literally in the munchies trenches rn so trustttt me I understand this all too well lmaoooo!!
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For the better part of an hour after you and Richie had smoked up in the roof, neither of you spoke, too immersed in the movie you were watching. Your head lay on his lap as he absently played with your hair.
Your stomach rumbled as you watched somebody cooking on screen, but it wasn’t any sort of fancy food that you started craving.
"Oh my god, you know what sounds so good right now..." You said, rolling onto your back to look up at him. “Some cheesy roll ups from Taco Bell.”
You groaned a little as if to emphasize your point, and he chuckled.
“We’ve got the ingredients here, I could make some for you,” he said, lovingly tracing a finger down the side of your face.
“Listen, I love when you cook for me but right now… it just wouldn’t be the same,” you countered with a pout. “Fuuuck, I just thought of some BK chicken fries, too. And some nuggets. AND a vanilla frosty. What if we just had a mukbang?”
“A what?”
“A mukbang. You know, just like… getting a bunch of different things and then just going to town.”
“Oh I don’t know…”
His amused grin broadened as you shifted to press yourself closer to his chest, wrapping an arm around his midsection.
“Come on babe, pleaseeeeeee,” you pleaded, giving him puppy dog eyes. "Do you want me to starve to death? Is that it?"
"No, of course not!" He said, bending down to kiss your forehead. "I would never, ever let such a thing happen. What else do you want me to get you?"
"Actually, I'd love some water. I've got hella cottonmouth right now."
"So do I. I’ve just been too lazy to get up.”
The two of you laughed, and you stretched up to kiss him, affection swelling in your chest. You were truly two peas in one pod.
"Just use my phone and get anything you want," he said, getting up to go to the kitchen. "Oh and get me a chocolate frosty and some fries. Can’t believe you got me into that monstrosity of a mix.”
“How dare you! Fries dipped in ice cream is a true delicacy!” You yelled as you scrolled through doordash on his cellphone. “Carmen’s been putting too many ideas in your head!”
“Yeah maybe you’re right. What does that jagoff know about good food, anyway?”
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look-at-the-soul · 5 months
Text
Look at the soul - Part 11 Green eyes
Cillian Murphy x OC
Series master list
We’ve always heard eyes are a window to the soul, what would Cillian find in Marianne’s?
Word count: 3,460
Song: Green eyes by Coldplay
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Cillian rolled the script in his hands as his eyes crossed the stage and he found the cast getting ready to leave as they finished the rehearsal. Marianne waved at Jason, he played the role of the barman.
“Ready?” Lee approached her.
“I really need that margarita tonight.” Marianne groaned, rolling her neck to ease the tension from her shoulders.
“And all I can think of is having those tacos already.” Lee chuckled.
“Tacos?” Cillian’s voice interrupted them, he was a few steps behind.
Both girls turned around to look at him, they had the same expression of a kid who was just caught up with the hand inside of a cookie jar.
“You’re having tacos and didn’t invite me?” He asked placing one of his hands over his chest, pretending to be hurt.
“You can come if you want.” Marianne replied.
“Thought you had already left.” Enda joined them a moment later, Heidi following him.
“They’re having tacos without us.” Cillian raised his eyebrows.
“Are you serious?” Enda gave them a accusation look.
“It’s not like that.” Marianne tried mortified.
Cillian leaned his elbow on his friend’s shoulder. “So what are you doing tonight?”
“Eating tacos of course.” He folded his arms in front of his chest.
“Me too.” Cillian agreed with a huge grin leading the way towards the parking lot. “I’m starving.”
The girls shared a look, unsure of how the night would unfold, they were so used to their dynamic now.
“Can you hurry up?” Enda called impatient.
“Let’s go!” Cillian shouted with excitement.
***
“Hmmm this is heaven.” Enda admitted before getting more chips and dip. “I’m still mad that you left us out of this.” He then pointed at the amazing food at the table.
“I told you it was a girls night out originally.” Heidi rolled her eyes.
“We don’t have to dress up as women right?” Enda joked mimicking a girly pose.
“You’re always looking for any excuse man.” Cillian retorted making the girls laugh. “I’m going to tell your wife to hide her heels.”
“Alright, tacos are ready.” Marianne announced placing the tray in the middle of the table. “And you’re more than welcome to join us every week.”
“Shall we declare tacos night inaugurated?” Cillian rubbed his hands together.
“I’m never skipping a tacos night.” Enda announced solemnly taking a bite. “Oh fuck! This is so good.” He shouted.
“I want one of each.” Lee added passing her plate to the opposite side.
“And you haven’t tried her chicken with chipotle yet.” Cillian shook his head, the mere memory was mouthwatering.
Lee looked from Cillian to Marianne suspiciously, wondering how close those two had been getting lately, sneaking backstage before rehearsals to the point of him tasting one of her recipes. She added a mental note to ask her later about that.
But her friend was oblivious to Lee’s stare as she got busy with the tortillas.
“This is fun, we really need to keep it going.” Heidi proposed as she got a text message. “My husband wants some tacos but I don’t think there’ll be anything left, and I don’t have the heart to tell him.”
“No no, tacos are just meant to be eaten here not to take out.” Enda held the tray with both hands apprehensively.
“Just tell him you ordered pizzas tonight.” Cillian encouraged.
“Woah. The salsa is spicy.” Lee pointed waving her hand in front of her mouth, grabbing her glass to wash down the burning sensation in her throat.
“Last time you told me it wasn’t, so I added more this time.” Marianne explained.
“So tell me how did this start.” Enda asked getting a second round of food.
“I was craving some Mexican one day and then I showed Lee some pictures, so I found a little market that has a lot of Mexican stuff and just like that we asked Heidi if she wanted to join us for dinner, Michelle and Isa have been sometimes too.”
“Well thank you for the invitation.” Enda teased.
Cillian chuckled. “He’s never letting that one go, trust me I’ve known him for so long.”
“You said tacos and margaritas, so where’s my drink?” Enda adjusted the glasses on his nose.
“Go easy with the tequila or you’ll start living la vida loca.” Heidi suggested in a very clear Spanish.
Enda and Cillian’s laugh filled the place.
“What happened with Layla?” Heidi asked before taking another bite of her food.
Marianne shuddered. “Think she was in a bad mood or something, because she pushed me so rough.”
“I was thinking of stepping in, but didn’t want to interfere in the rehearsal.” Heidi admitted.
“Who’s she?” Enda interjected. “Should’ve picked a blonde, a brunette and a redhead to play the prostitutes, they’ll look the same.” He admitted laughing.
“When did that happen?” Cillian’s brows knitted.
“From the beginning, I swore she left you a mark.” Lee pointed out. “She’s been acting weird towards you since forever.”
“Please elaborate.” Enda leaned on the table.
Lee threw a quick glance in Marianne’s direction.
“After she joined the play, she wanted to introduce herself to Cillian but he was on the phone in my dressing room so I told her, very politely that he was busy at that moment and she took it badly.”
“No but tell them about the day I heard her mocking your accent.” Lee lost it, she had kept it to herself for so long.
Enda gave Heidi a knowing look, worried about how it would unfold.
“If I had learned this earlier I wouldn’t let her be part of this, unfortunately the opening is around the corner.”
Heidi nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“I mean I’m aware of my accent, I’m the first one to laugh when I make a mistake, but it’s obvious she has a problem with me.”
“You’ll never please everyone.” Cillian stated crossing his leg. “Don’t take a single comment from a person you wouldn’t ask for advice.”
And as he said that, they all raised their glasses.
“Need some help?” Cillian asked Marianne as she was busy with the tortillas.
But she shook her head and turned them around just using her hand, as if the pan wasn’t hot.
“You’re going to burn yourself.”
“Yeah?” Marianne smiled placing her hand on top of one again t show Cillian nothing happened.
“So you like playing with fire huh?” He tilted his head, fixing his eyes on her. “You should know then, people who plays with fire, usually gets burn.” He flirted.
The way he dragged his words and the velvety tone of his voice made it sound as if he was giving her warning with a double meaning. Leaving Marianne speechless, her mind in blank, unable to answer anything.
Where did that came from?
Heidi walked between them to get another one, oblivious to what was happening. “Would it be weird if I mix all the fillings in one taco?”
When Marianne looked again at Cillian the atmosphere had changed, he was now texting someone. So she decided that perhaps it had just been a game from her imagination.
“A little, but who are we to judge you?” Lee encouraged.
In a matter of seconds, the kitchen got silent again as they all focused on their food and drinks.
***
Turning around, Marianne found Cillian a few meters away with his hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed as he laughed at something Enda said.
Staring at him from afar she took in of his curls and the way he seemed so engaged in the conversation unfolding. A head tilt and then she saw him rubbing his fingertips against his lips.
And as if it was some kind of revelation…
How could he, as the narrator of the story know a lot of things about Adria? This man had to have some kind of deep bond with her.
“Wait! Enda! Cill!” She shouted as they were heading out.
Marianne was running out of breath as she reached them, giving them an excited look.
“You’ve to hear this…” her eyes sparkled in excitement. “I finally realized what you think it’s been missing from the play.” Marianne explained, Enda had been struggling the last couple of days because he kept insisting something was missing from the story but he couldn’t figure out what.
“Well, tell me!”
“The narrator,” she looked up at Cillian and back to Enda, “how could this man know Adria’s story so well? He can’t be just a narrator, there has to be something else… a connection.”
“I’m not following.” Enda admitted frowning.
“We all know how life has been complicated towards Adria, the tough situation with her brother taking everything she owns and blocking her from getting a job and all, we’ve seen her how it is for her to accept the gifts those men give her thinking that will grant them her heart and she uses the money to survive… but we barely know a thing or two about her real feelings, there has to be someone she loved once and-”
Cillian couldn’t hide the smile on his face as he caught up with her idea, it was brilliant.
“Her heart is a mystery until we reveal a small glimpse.” He added staring at Enda.
“I need a drink,” this was mindblowing, it had always been under his nose and he had been so blind. “Shall we go to a pub and talk this through?”
“Yes!” Marianne have them a wide smile, her cheeks blushing.
“C’mon there’s one two blocks away.” Enda wrapped his hand around Marianne’s shoulder to guide her out of the parking lot. “You know this changes a lot of things right?”
Marianne nodded realizing the impact it would have in the rehearsals.
“Remember I’ve a trip tomorrow, but send the changes to my email.” Cillian pointed at Enda. “I just hope my dog won’t make a mess in the house.”
“Are your kids staying with your parents?”
“Yeah but I can’t have them taking care of Scout too.”
Marianne looked at him in silence for an instant.
“I can puppysit.”
Cillian stopped walking, surprised by her proposal.
“Really, I mean I love dogs and these days I’m taking classes online I’m only busy with the rehearsals.”
“He’s a beast.”
“Oh c’mon, bet he behaves better than most people.” Marianne dismissed his statement.
“Are you sure?”
“Just say thank you, stop asking her the same.” Interjected Enda.
Cillian laughed relieved and thankful for the help, he then explained her he’d bring his dog first thing in the morning with all the things she might need, it would still be a short stay though, just for two days while he traveled to London for something work related.
As they walked on the empty street, Cillian closed the jacket over his chest, feeling a shiver running up and down his body.
“So how do we do this?”
“Well, ask that to the mastermind here, she got the idea.” Enda chuckled nudging Marianne with his elbow.
“I was thinking of maybe Adria finds a letter she kept in a box or a photograph perhaps of her lost love and that’s how you reveal that side of her to the audience, but then I thought as you already have the narrator element telling part of the story, Cillian could reveal that part you know, verbally while Adria is in the back staring at his picture.”
“My head is about to explode.” The screenplay writer admitted shocked by the insights Marianne was providing, but it was just one way to prove how connected she was with her character.
Cillian smiled proudly as they reached a booth in the corner, he had been for the last thirty minutes as he started to listen to Marianne’s ideas. This was the kind of thing he didn’t know she could do when he first saw her and it was a remarkable thing to admire from her.
“Do you think it’s possible?” Cillian gave his friend a long look. They were against time.
“Of course I’m going to need a ridiculous amount of caffeine through the night, but sure I can have this by tomorrow.” He took a sip of his pint, desperate to head home.
“Are you sure this is okay? I don’t want you to feel like any pressure to add this.” Marianne doubted toying with the glass of rosé in front of her.
Enda leaned against the back of his seat. “I can’t tell you how much I love that you are so invested in this that you even start adding ideas, it’s so cathartic for me and a relief to know Adria is in the best hands. Here.” He took her face between his hands and planted a loud kiss on her cheek.
“Perhaps her brother had something to do with the fact that Adria split with- are we still naming him narrator?” He chuckled.
“Yes because I want every man in the room thinking it could be him.” Enda took a long sip of his drink and looking at his watch he gasped. “Shit I gotta go, or the wifey will be mad. But keep the brainstorming!”
“I’ve never seen him so obsessed with a play.” Cillian cleared his throat as he moved closer to Marianne.
Honey, you are a rock
Upon which I stand
“Had been thinking that instead of having you talking from the sound booth, you should be on stage narrating because well, the narrator knows everything about Adria first hand.”
“I like that.” His eyes sparkled under the dim light of the pub. “What else?”
“What about you being something like a bartender in the background first and then… boom the big revelation of who you are.”
Cillian nodded, imagining the scene.
And I come here to talk
I hope you understand
“The way I see it is someone with a bohemian kind of look.”
“So… what’s the main story of the bohemian at the bar?” Cillian asked pulling Marianne from her daydream.
He asked the waitress for a napkin and pen to write down the ideas. Marianne noticed the long looks and smilies the woman was giving him, asking over and over if he needed something else. Lee was right, everywhere they went, he got an endless queue of women fighting for his attention. Women offering in a tray without thinking while he was inside of his bubble. How could she compete with that? When he really had a catalog to choose from with endless possibilities; all kinds of beauty, hair color, nationalities…
It was impossible to not fall for that smile and the way he deeply engaged in whatever you were doing, he was hands down the most attentive person, always had something interesting to add, something funny to say. Cillian always added something that really helped you. But when he fixed his ocean eyes on hers, almost without blinking, it was as if he was opening all of the layers to see the deepest parts of her soul, and she ended up questioning everything.
“You can’t even begin to imagine how important this is, you got to the point to start thinking as your character, more importantly, you’re walking in her shoes.” Cillian praised pulling her back to reality.
He had a good feeling about this, about her idea, Enda had already trusted her in different matters and she ended up adding something really good.
And besides all of that, he loved to listen her talking about something that she felt really passionate about, loved the way her eyes lighted up and held a special sparkle.
The green eyes
Yeah, the spotlight
Shines upon you
“Has it happened to you? Getting ideas for your characters?”
Cillian thought her expressions were adorable. It was impossible to not feel like some kind of magnet was pulling him closer.
And how could
Anybody deny you?
“Yes, plenty of times because I let the character use my body as an instrument to project whatever it wants to the public,” he explained forcing himself to focus on something else other than her, “it’s like taking a step back and allowing them to take charge, huh?”
“I never thought about it until now, and it’s both scary and fascinating.” She rested her face on her hand, leaning closer to Cillian.
I came here with a load
And it feels so much lighter now I met you
Marianne was suddenly conscious of the small pout of his lips and the almost imperceptible nod he did.
“I’m in awe of the incredible feeling it is to be onstage,” she admitted placing a loose lock behind her ear.
Cillian felt like it was mouthwatering, everything, every little thing she did, it had an indescribable feeling in him.
The dim light, the little conversation they were having, the rest of the pub disappearing.
He had always been complimented by his eyes and he really didn’t paid attention to other people’s eyes, until now… he was only realizing of the kaleidoscopic shades that were part of Marianne’s green eyes. Of all kinds of shades and tones, a deep emerald adorning around the edge of the iris, a lighter shade mixing perfectly with an olive tone and small rays of gold as it got closer to the pupils.
And honey, you should know
That I could never go on without you
Green eyes
He found them fascinating and it felt contradictory to what he believed in, when someone started talking about his, he brushed the topic to the side and changed the conversation. Destroying any small chance that could allow his ego to grow. But when it came to hers, he realized this was the first time he noticed something like that.
They were so inviting and it was taking all of his willpower to resist the urge to get closer.
That green eyes
You're the one that I wanted to find
Her eyes seemed to change under different lights and he realized now it also depended of the color she was wearing. Now with a purple jumper made the fascinating color of her eyes pop and it was impossible not to get lost in the depths of that emerald treasure.
But what was truly fascinating was all of the things she could express through her eyes even when she wasn’t talking. Every emotion flashing through her eyes, she was so transparent, so genuine.
“Well… how could he not know everything about her? How could she ever forget about the most important person in her life?” She moved her hands in sync with her words. “How could someone become a stranger after seeing your soul?”
He wasn’t sure anymore if this was Marianne or Adria talking… or a mix of both.
And anyone who tried
To deny you must be out of their minds
Cillian leaned back as if he was hit in the gut and the air was taken away from him. Her words repeating over and over in his mind like a song. He had to admit he’d allow her to see his soul as many times as she wanted. She could walk over his back in heels if that made her happy. And that scared him, because of the magnitude it meant; it would mean to give her all of him, his deepest fears, his dreams, his secrets.
Feeling goosebumps all over his skin, Cillian couldn’t help but lean forward a little.
Marianne smiled shyly and looked down at her hands but quickly her gaze returned to Cillian who couldn’t disguise his attraction any longer.
One look and he could be at her feet.
Her breath got caught in her throat as she realized the atmosphere changed suddenly and Cillian was holding her gaze, alternating from her eyes to her lips.
Time stopped as their hearts were drumming inside their chests.
Cillian couldn’t help but wonder what her lips would taste.
There was a force pulling them closer, something neither of them could fight.
Their lips were about to meet midway. A tingle appeared from the anticipation, head tilting…
“Would you like another round?” The waitress interrupted them, breaking off their moment, she tapped her pen against her opposite arm.
Cillian straightened his back as he cleared his throat.
He gave Marianne a long look, noticing the small shook of her head he then thanked the waitress. The magic was gone.
In an instant the bubble burst.
She noticed the waitress had passed in front of them for the hundredth time and she only had eyes for Cillian, but as much as she tried to caught his attention, it didn’t work but she had definitely killed the mood. But she couldn’t blame her though, Cillian was attractive and he had this incredible vibe that made you look twice in his direction.
Perhaps they could talk now that they were out of the pub.
“Can I drive you home?” He offered hoping to continue where they just left, but just as he did, one of his sons called him to let him know they were as well on their way back home.
“It’s fine I’ll get an Uber.” Marianne waved him off so he wouldn’t be late for his sons. “Don’t forget to bring Scout over.” She tried to brush it off, but deep down she couldn’t help but think what would have happened if they weren’t interrupted.
****
Tag list: @lyarr24 @gypsy-girl-08 @cillmequick @zablife @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @kettlechips3 @heidimoreton @forbidden-forest-witch @kaitebugg03 @thenattitude @forgottenpeakywriter @onlydeadcells @babaohhhriley @lonelyweeb0044 @lovemissyhoneybee @ange-thoughts @already-broken144 @shelbydelrey @cutecurly-hair @winchestergirl22 @moral-terpitude @ironpen @elenavampire21 @lespendy @kittycatcait219 @stevie75 @esposadomd @sloanexx @shaddixlife @rangerelik @peakyscillian @woofgocows @cillianlove @imichelle-l-rigby @emmanuelle19 @sydneyyyya @cljordan-imperium @mrkdvidal1989 @flippittygibbitts @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @elk96 @shelundeadxxxx @kmc1989 @lau219
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astarkey · 3 months
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So I was tagged forever ago by my lovelies @archeryqueen95, and @bloodychamber, that I decided to combine the tag games since they're basically the same thing. Thank you so much for tagging me guys, and I'm so sorry I'm now getting around to doing them! 🙏🏽💖 The last few months have not been so kind to me at all 😔
Last movie: Scandal (1950)
Last show: I Dream of Jeannie
Last song: Pure Morning // Placebo
Song stuck in my head: Foe // Blackmail
Favorite color: Purple and black
Currently reading: Nothing at the moment
Currently watching: Seinfeld, Wellington Paranormal, Dexter's Laboratory, King of the Hill, Garth Marenghi's Darkplace, The Mighty Boosh, The IT Crowd, Sweet Home (even though I'm having a hard time trying to go through this latest season since I stopped halfway into episode 5. Idk how to feel about it 😔), Community, Alice in Borderland and The Wayans Bros.
Next on your to watchlist: Bargain, The Bequeathed, and Shining Vale
Currently consuming: Well I was consuming some Ruffles sour cream & onion chips lol.
Currently craving: Beef lo mein and general tso's chicken from Szechuan, even though I don't think I'm going back there to eat for a while.
Sweet/spicy/savory: Sweet and savory :p
Relationship status: Still single, even though I tried to change that status last year 😣 Still trying this year.
Current obsession: I think the Yakuza series. Like I was obsessed with it's spin-off Judgement series last year, which I guess is in that same universe, and now I got into Yakuza just because I was curious and wanted to know more about the universe since I finished the Judgement games.
3 favorite foods: Mac and cheese, tacos, and cheese pizza.
Last thing you googled: avatar netflix
Dream trip: Take a road trip across the country to go to the west coast. Maybe travel to Spain, France, Italy, or Japan.
Anything I want right now: For my dad to be okay and to make it through another night at the hospital 😔
I'm tagging (no obligations!) @onyxheartbeat, @bonnielass23, @heatherannchristie, @the-highest-most-exalted-one, @eizagonzalezs, @alwaysupatnight, @lilmissuncreative, @astriferias, @georgieharrisons, @musicrunsthroughmysoul, @esteblogsiesp0rn0, @mediumrarefallingcow, @bustedandblue, @camiladnne, @userlestat, @bentcoppers, @weloveachother and anyone else who wants to do this! 💕
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pepperonijem · 11 months
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vii. a dream within a dream || all my love
"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream ." - A Dream Within a Dream; Edgar Allan Poe
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Summary:  bucky barnes ocassionally lives out his dream of being a hallmark holiday movie protagonist. only on weekends. Pairing: Bucky Barnesx f!Reader Warnings: food mentions Word Count: 2.8k A/N: sorry for the random hiatus. it has been a very difficult last two weeks, with school, the passing of one of my favorite artists, and just general business of life... but here y'all goooo
previous chapter || back to library || next chapter
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“Bucky,” Steve sighed in frustration. “You’ve missed the turn three times already. We’ve been circling this block for twenty minutes.”
“Steven, with all due respect, please shut up so I can see better.”
“I’ll shut up when you finally make the –” Steve was cut off by Bucky making a sharp left turn and he grabbed the handle above his window. “Oh my god, this isn’t Mario Kart, use your brakes.” 
“Well I made the turn didn’t I?” Bucky huffed at Steve as he readjusted his wheel. Thankfully, the streets weren’t too busy at this time of night. Bucky glanced over at Steve who let out a chortle of disbelief.
“I guess that’s true,” he admitted.
“So why was everyone being so weird earlier?” Bucky asked, referring to the weird shift in events that occurred when he stopped at Scott’s house.
The question seemed to catch Steve off guard as he let out a surprised cough. “Weird? What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about why Natasha seemed to be hauling your ass to the front door, and how Wanda suddenly got food poisoning less than half an hour after I called her,” Bucky said flatly, glancing over at Steve, who was staring outside of the window, pretending to be interested in the empty and clear night sky.
“Oh that? You know Wanda has IBS, she’s really sensitive about it,” Steve replied a little too quickly.
“Okay…” Bucky dragged out. He very well knew that Wanda did not have irritable bowel syndrome, having eaten many meals with her. 
Steve turned back around to face him. “Why did you only ask Natasha and Wanda to go with you?” he asked in return.
Now it was Bucky who was caught off guard. “Well, they’re uh… they’re the most entertaining people to roadtrip with.” The words left his mouth a little too quickly and Steve responded with an unconvinced nod.
“Oh, I’m sure Sam would be happy to hear that,” Steve teased. Bucky rolled his eyes with a huff. 
“What are you doing right now?” Bucky asked as he noticed Steve rummaging through the glove compartment of his car.
“Looking for snacks,” Steve replied, as if it was obvious. “I didn’t get a chance to eat dinner.” As if on cue, Bucky’s own stomach began to rumble. He hadn’t really had the chance to eat all day, choosing to spend all of his time planning this surprise rather than making meals. He was slightly annoyed, but saw that they managed to make up for some time and had a bit of lee-way before they needed to be at the airport.
Without looking down, he reached down and handed his phone to Steve. “Look for a fast-food place and we can grab something to eat.” Steve hummed in response, unlocking Bucky’s phone.
“Uh, Bucky,” Steve announced, looking up from the phone with a hint of panic. “You have a lot of missed messages and calls from your roomie.”
“Shit,” Bucky cursed under his breath. At the next stoplight, he grabbed his phone back to check the messages, and sure enough, there was a slew of notifications all from you. 
neighbor 💩 (8:10 p.m.): jimothy where r u rn
neighbor💩  (8:10 p.m.): if you’re out can u pick up mcdonald’s pls, i’m craving chicken nuggets
neighbor💩  (8:13 p.m.): nvm, i think i actually want taco bell
neighbor💩  (8:15 p.m.): OR ACTUALLY, aren’t u hanging out with everyone tonight? Can u bring home some of the soup wanda makes? it’s the only thing keeping me sane rn
neighbor💩  (8:35 p.m.): Why is my dad calling and asking me where you are
neighbor💩  (8:37 p.m.): Why is Wanda saying you’re not at Scott’s house and that you and Steve are taking a roadtrip together
neighbor💩  (8:39 p.m.): if you are with Steve tell him to answer his phone before I find him and leave him stranded in the woods myself
(3) Missed calls from neighbor💩 8:40 p.m.
Neighbor 💩  (8:50 p.m.): James Barnes i swear to god… i can’t believe you didn’t tell me my dad’s coming in!!
Neighbor 💩  (8:51 p.m.): u better be driving safe… that’s precious cargo
Neighbor 💩  (8:52 p.m.): anyway i haven’t decided if i’m mad or happy that you planned this whole thing without telling me… find out on the next episode of Dragon Ball Z
“By any chance,” Steve started sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at his own phone. “Is this supposed to be a surprise?”
“That’s correct,” Bucky confessed, setting his phone down as the light turned green once again. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”
“Well, not anymore,” Steve said sheepishly. 
Bucky looked at him, eyes wide with panic. “You told her?” He asked loudly.
Steve raised his hands in defense. “I didn’t know! You know I’m terrible with secrets,” he pouted. 
Bucky took a deep breath, calming himself down. “It’s fine,” he said. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s fine. It’s fine right?” 
Steve nodded back. “It’ll be fine,” he echoed. “At least we’re almost there.”
After a half an hour, the boys finally arrived at the airport.
They were greeted by the familiar figure waiting at the curb with an excited smile and a friendly wave. As Bucky pulled the car into a stop, he took a deep breath before getting out of the car to help his guest load into the car.
“Bucky!” your dad exclaimed as he pulled him into a warm hug that Bucky wasn’t really expecting. “Nice to see you.” He peeked over Bucky’s shoulder to see Steve waving to him from the passenger’s seat.
“Steve, is that you?” He asked with a cheerful smile as Steve nodded sheepishly. He too received a hug through the window, before entering the car himself.
As they headed home, the three boys in the car found themselves in pleasant conversation as they caught up on life.
“How’s your application going, Steve?” Your father asked from the back seat.
Steve hesitated, looking out the window as he finally answered. “I uh, I sent it in last month. Just waiting to hear back from them.”
As if noticing a shift in Steve’s demeanor, he switched his focus to the boy in the driver’s seat. “What about you, Bucky? What are your plans for next year?”
Just like Steve, Bucky hesitated before answering. “I think I’m going into education,” he exclaimed, as if the words surprised him as well.
“Oh education?” Your dad hummed thoughtfully. “Your dad always thought you would go into engineering or something science-y. What made you decide on education?” 
Bucky smiled as he replied. “A good talk with a good friend.” He didn’t miss the way Steve looked at him with an eyebrow raised, but decided not to mention it.
An hour later, Bucky pulled into the driveway and put his car in park. He hadn’t even opened his door before the back seat passenger door was being swung open and he heard your voice ring in his ear.
“Dad!” you called, pulling him out of the car and into a warm embrace. As Steve and Bucky got out of the car you immediately latched on to both of them as well, surprising Bucky. Maybe hugging runs in the family? He thought.
“Bucky,” you said firmly, now pulling away from him. Your eyebrows were furrowed together and your eyes looked glassy and— were you mad?
“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m— I thought it would be a cool surprise and I—” 
“Why are you apologizing?” You asked incredulously. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Now you had wrapped him into another hug, but Bucky let himself relax, relieved that you weren’t pissed off at him.
Before he could say anything else, you had already moved on to Steve, joking with him about how he sucks at keeping a secret, and inviting him to stay just a little bit longer before heading home. Steve nodded sheepishly, even after seeing the 11:57 p.m. blare at him from his phone screen as he checked the time. 
Bucky bit the inside of his cheek, thinking to himself that it was weird for him to find your mix of emotions and giddy excitement so endearing. However, he found himself still leaning against the car, in awe that he managed to pull this surprise off. Part of him felt like the protagonist of a Hallmark Christmas movie, moving heaven and earth for the girl he lo– 
Bucky let out a cough, not letting himself finish the thought.
As he watched you drag Steve into the house, Bucky found himself alone with your dad who was still gathering the last of his things from the trunk.
“Oh, let me get that for you,” Bucky insisted as he grabbed one of the bags. 
Your dad thanked him as he shut the trunk, turning to face Bucky but making no effort to move toward the door of the house.
“Bucky,” he called, his voice much softer than it was at the airport. “I’m guessing she’s the ‘good friend?’” he pat Bucky on the shoulder as he nodded sheepishly, looking down at the ground.
“Let me give you some advice, kiddo. Don’t think too much, life is so much better when you don’t.” With that, he also made his way inside, leaving Bucky alone in the icy chill of the night. 
What did he mean by that? Bucky thought. I think a healthy amount, no more and no less, in fact, if I wanted to stop thinking right now I could. See? I did it. For a whole 5 seconds I stopped thinking. Or maybe he—
“Penny for your thoughts?” Bucky’s ears perked up at the sound of your voice. You walked over to where he was leaning against the hood of the car, looking into the night sky. 
“I’m not really thinking about anything,” Bucky shook his head. “At least, nothing important.”
He looked down as you handed him a blanket. 
“Well if you’re gonna sit here and think about nothing important, you should at least stay warm,” He unraveled the blanket, placing one side around his shoulders and extending his arm as an invitation.
“Join me for a bit?” Bucky surprised himself as he asked the question, and had to resist the urge to tense up when you shifted closer and allowed him to wrap the other side of the blanket around your shoulder. 
Thankfully, the silence that followed was peaceful, and when you broke it with a quiet voice, he found himself leaning closer to hear you.
“Thank you,” you whispered. 
“For what?” He asked, giving you a gentle nudge, inviting you to speak up.
“For everything,” you answered. “For every late night study session, for bringing me back tea and croissants when you go to the cafe, for bringing my dad here. I feel like you’ve done so much for me, and I’ve just been kind of… a parasite since the beginning.”
Bucky felt his heart lurch at your words. A parasite? How could you think of yourself that way?
Your father’s words echoed in his head once again. Stop thinking so much, he told himself.
So he turned to you, and told you exactly how he felt. “You’re not a parasite, you’re a catalyst.”
You scoffed out a laugh, playfully punching him on the shoulder. “What does that mean?”
Bucky rubbed his arm, pretending to be in pain as you rolled your eyes at him. “It means,” he began. “That the moment you walked through that door, everything changed.”
“For the better, I hope,” you added.
“Well, for reference, I was finally invited to one of Tony’s exclusive karaoke parties. He said I’m a lot more fun these days. I even sang a song.”
You raised your eyebrow at him in curiosity. “Oh? What song?”
He shook his head, refusing to tell you, until you poked his side and he all but fell. “Dancing Queen by ABBA,” he admitted in embarrassment. “Don’t laugh.”
“I’m not laughing, I didn’t laugh,” you said with your lips pursed tightly together, trying hard to fight a chuckle. “What did you score?”
“100.”
“No way.” 
Bucky nodded sheepishly as you finally let out your laughter.
“Okay, okay, I believe you,” you relented with a nod. “The Bucky I met in August would have vomited at the thought. I guess I may have rubbed off on you a little.”
“See? This is a symbiotic relationship.” Bucky chuckled, playfully punching your shoulder.
“Alright, alright,” you relented, pulling the blanket off yourself and turning to extend your hand to Bucky. “Now let’s head inside so we don’t freeze.”
A cozy meal and a few board games later, the clock read 4 a.m. and everyone was starting to lose it. Your dad had turned in two hours ago, after the first round of Monopoly ended with you claiming total domination and Steve and Bucky going bankrupt. After you begged your father to stay up, he promised he would only take a nap and that he’d be up by seven a.m. to get breakfast with you.
Still full of energy from the day’s excitement, you forced Steve and Bucky to stay up with you to play a round of Catan, only for you to be falling asleep halfway through it. 
“Steve,” Bucky groaned sleepily as he lazily dropped the dice out of his hands. “Make us more coffee–”
He was cut off by Steve slapping his hand over his mouth. “Shhh.” Bucky sat up and slapped his hand away. “She’s finally knocked out.”
Sure enough, your soft snores were coming from the couch as you lay there peacefully, giving Bucky and Steve time to finally escape. Steve got up first, trying his best to move silently.
“I’m gonna make a cup of coffee before I head out,” Steve whispered to Bucky who nodded.
As Steve headed to the kitchen, he tried to stand up carefully from his spot on the floor in front of the couch you were on. He didn’t make it very far before he heard you call out to Bucky.
“Stay?” your voice came out with the softest puff of air, and he wondered if he imagined it.
If Bucky had any more self control, he would have walked away.
But when you reached your hand out in search of his, how could he bring himself to leave?
So instead he knelt back down beside you and decided that once again, he would stop thinking and let himself be in the moment. And in that moment, he was well aware of how his heart hammered against his chest and how his lips were quirked into a smile. Have you always been cute, or was the lack of sleep finally getting to him? Chalking it up to his sleepy deliriousness, he allowed himself to be just a little reckless. 
He looked down at where your hand was still in his, and with his free hand reached up to brush a hair out of your face, his hand freezing when he felt your hand twitch in his. Your face grimaced just a little bit at the disturbance and he finally let out a breath when it settled back into a look of peace. 
“Sleep well,” he whispered out before giving your hand one final squeeze as he pulled away, taking note of how cold his hands suddenly felt. He balled his hand into a fist and quickly opened it again, aware of all the blood rushing back into his fingertips. 
As he stood to drape a blanket over your sleeping figure, he noticed Steve had returned from the kitchen.
“She’s out,” Bucky informed Steve who nodded back absent-mindedly, not quite looking at him. “Do you want a ride back to Scott’s?” 
“Hmm?” Steve hummed before finally turning to Bucky. “Oh, no it’s fine, it’s a short walk and the weather is nice tonight.”
“You sure?” Bucky asked with his hands in his pockets, stifling a yawn.
“Yeah,” Steve nodded back with a small smile. “The coffee woke me up.” 
Bucky relented and walked Steve to the door before finally making his way into his own bed. Against his better judgment, he found himself replaying the few minutes you sat outside with him, looking at the stars. 
He let out a sigh, reaching for the book that rested on his side table, Pride and Prejudice, untouched since the day he read it at the cafe. However, he did not grab the book itself, but rather the bookmark that kept his page – a pink envelope still sealed, addressed to him. 
Maybe one day I’ll open it, he thought to himself. But not today. 
And with that, Bucky slipped into a deep slumber. 
Maybe I’ll dream of you.
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noirvette · 1 year
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WE NEVER EXISTED
[band smau]
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[FOUR]
masterlist.
prev. | next.
cw. stalking, swearing
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You couldn't shake off this feeling of unease. You had no idea when it started tonight but ever since midway through the concert you've been sort of on your off game. Like something wasn't right. Normally you'd have gone to Kyle about this, recently whenever you felt uneasy you'd go to him, Kyle understood and was always willing to help you out.
However Kyle was gone, having left earlier, almost right away after the concert ended. So now you had no one to talk to, sure Wendy would be the next easiest to talk too, but you didn't want to bother her with your silly moods.
As you check twitter and text Kenny for a bit, Stan knocks at the back of the trailer before turning to the rest of you guys, "Alright guys! First successful mini tour is officially over and we had an amazing turn out tonight, how we feeling?" A chorus of excitement from everyone including you pipes up at that. The sense of unease finally draining away from you for a bit.
As you all talk about the exciting concert you guys held, a stomach growls loudly, quieting everyone.
"Uh.. well, I'm feeling kind of hungry right now actually." Clyde sheepishly mentions as his stomach loudly growls again. Bebe clasps her hands together loudly, "Red Lobster! I have been craving those cheddar biscuits for MONTHS now, can we please go!"
"Uh, yeah I suppose, any issues with Red Lobster guys?" Stan replies, looking at everyone. As the excitement dies down, your feeling of dread comes back and you groan internally, deciding to just bail on the rest of them.
You scratch the side of your arm awkwardly, "you know.. I think I'm going to head off to the hotel for the night, I'm pretty tired you know? Kyle's already gone off to make sure our new rooms are situated yeah?"
Stan nods, "yeah he texted me about 15 minutes ago saying our rooms are all situated and ready for u-", Clyde abruptly cuts off Stan, "we got new rooms? When?" Stan groans in annoyance at the interruption.
"This morning idiot, but there was some issues with rooming so Kyle left early to make sure all was good after the concert. You would know this if you didn't have your phone on do not disturb for two hours." Nichole sighs, head held in her hands.
"Damn."
"Either way, your rooms are ready now which is good! Better than being stranded, and we'll see you in the morning Y/n, yeah?" Wendy turns to you, putting her coat on.
"Yeah, oh can you bring me back some biscuits of my own though and uhhhh... those tacos they got?" You quickly shoot a text to Kyle asking what he wants, "..and Kyle says he would like the crab linguini pasta."
"And now who's paying for you and Kyle, missy?" Clyde sasses, hands on his hips with a raised eyebrow.
"You." You retorted, "I'll venmo you if you do it and I'll buy you those pink lemonades that you love so much."
"Deal." You and Clyde shake hands to seal it.
As you all started heading your respective ways, Stan calls out to you and you turn around confused seeing him run after you, "What's up?"
"I forgot my wallet with Kyle, so I'm gonna head off with you to grab it and meet them later." Stan explains, you nod your head and the two of you walk off towards your hotel. Thanking the stars that you don't have to walk back to the hotel in the dark alone.
From outside the concert building, a pair of eyes watch as you and Stan walk off before following.
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Just as you and Stan reach the outside the hotel you abruptly stop and look around you. Stan, now a little bit ahead of you, turns to look at you. "Y/n?"
Instead of responding you look behind you only to see that nothing is there. However, you can't shake off the feeling that someone is around you, that someone is watching you intently. The feeling is intense and it causes you to stay grounded to where you stand. Unable to move.
You've been having this sense of dread follow you since you left the venue, the feeling isn't new either. All night you've had this unmistakable feeling wash over you. In fact it's the same feeling you've had at every. single. concert. Something or someone was watching you. You just knew it.
The stupid idiotic feeling that someone was following you pissed you off greatly. You wanted to believe Kyle in that nothing was actually happening and it was just nerves from the concert wearing off, but you really... really couldn't believe him at this moment. It was almost as if you were experiencing everything in slow motion and nothing was making any sense.
All Stan saw was you just staying still, frantically looking around every few seconds, he couldn't make heads or tails about what you were doing. It seemed almost surreal seeing you so freaked out, in the near 12 years Stan's known you, he's NEVER seen you act this way. All Stan can do is call out to you, feeling somewhat exasperated at your behavior
"...? /n? ..."Y/n!" You turn your head to look at Stan who's been calling your name for a while now with annoyance written all over his face, "What the fuck are you doing?"
Fear. Fear is usually described as an unpleasant emotion, the belief that something or someone is dangerous. Fear is not a belief nor unpleasant. Fear is horrible, fear is gut wrenching, fear is real. It eats up at you and it shakes you to your very core. It takes ahold of you and makes you it's prisoner.
Fear.. is what you felt as you stared at Stan. No...
No.
...
No..not at Stan.
At the guy behind him.
He was here, in front of you, behind Stan. Between you and the hotel.
And you had no where to run.
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TAGLIST: @captivq @kimiesstuff @bwljules @the-cooler-kira @1one1person1 @kenny-the-ken @bokutokiya @neenieweenie @n0tangeliccc @revzxn @mirophobic @gonefiishiing @musiclovebot @bootsieboo @bonez4brainz @4xbei77 @1996kj @sweetadonisbutbetter @scinclaitnoir @okarigold
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skoople · 11 months
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astronaut food
i've been meaning to outline the eating habits of the main wolf 359 characters. specifically, what do they eat and drink, what do they enjoy, what are their kitchen sins, how do they eat, and why. this is going to be a combination of canon, implications, and my personal read on them. let's get right into it:
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DR. ALEXANDER HILBERT
his view on eating is utilitarian to the point of reddit-ness, and he'll often go without meals to get something done or to prove a point (see: Succulent Rat-Killing Tar, What's Up Doc). his palate is a very "get what you can out of whatever you can" approach without considering much in the way of taste or texture (seaweed coffee is his invention). HOWEVER! hilbert has one prized treat that is his achilles heel/autism samefood: Pecan Pie (see: Mission Mishaps Cold Turkey). i think it's got a unique texture, and a comforting smell that meshes with his suppressed desire for family and safety well.
kitchen sin: he regards the human need and desire for food as both frivolous and an unfortunate necessity.
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LIEUTENANT RENÉE MINKOWSKI
she definitely enjoys fruit, or she wouldn't've cryogenically sealed a Braeburn apple (which are excellent for baking or dehydrating, btw) and brought it to space (see: What's Up Doc). she's also a planning type, and i think an efficient and tasty meal that involves the preparation and presentation of a fancy yogurt bowl is a favorite of hers and a dietary staple. minkowski is highly conscious of table manners, although that slacks a bit on the hephaestus, because she's eating across the table from hilbert and eiffel, for god's sake. still, clean and organized is her food philosophy. she owns possibly the only tupperware collection on the planet that includes every matching lid. the wine has almost no canon basis, and is mostly just a nod to voice actor Emma Shierr-Ziarko's own love and knowledge of wines.
kitchen sin: she thinks a clif bar counts as a real dinner if it's a weeknight.
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CAPTAIN ISABEL LOVELACE
lovelace's favorite food is appetizers for the whole table, a team pizza party, a big awesome-smelling potluck, or anything meant to be shared. for her, eating is a casual and (more importantly) a communal activity. the social engagement from a loud brunch will nourish her just as much as the food does. besides that, i think she likes chocolate with nuts in it (e.g. snickers, chocolate covered almonds, rocky road ice cream, etc), but one of her favorite desserts is probably a strawberry milkshake. maybe it's a way to make up for all the protein shakes and high-efficiency smoothies (that taste like wet cement) she has to chug on account of the intense way she lives and works.
kitchen sin: she is a vulture if anyone else is cooking or eating. "you gonna eat that?" and picking off searing hot pans and baking sheets. she's really just curious but she never asks until its already burning her mouth.
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COLONEL WARREN KEPLER
ok, the drink is a given. it's even on his official wolf 359 store merchandise. he likes the feel of it in his hand. but what does kepler eat? when does he eat? in private, obviously. his job is an exercise in restraint and perception, and he is his job (see: A Matter of Perspective). monsters under the bed don't need to eat, and they certainly won't be that vulnerable in front of a superior. but he's still a person, so i struggled a lot trying to figure out what he would crave. fish tacos, biscuits and gravy, and a loaded chicago hot dog were all floated, but the only meal i could picture kepler ordering where anyone could see him was lamb with mint sauce. it's expensive, recognizable, difficult to cook exactly right, and almost bloody.
kitchen sin: he will go out of his way to make you feel bad about what you're eating no matter what it actually is. he doesn't even have to say anything, he'll just glance at you or shift his posture slightly.
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DANIEL JACOBI
this is a guy who loves to snack (see: Time To Kill. pringles: popped). he likes crunchy, salty snacks a lot, but it's more about the activity than the taste. that doesn't stop him from ritualistically complaining (see: Mission Mishaps No Complaints). he takes his time eating, but he doesn't pay much attention to it, which is why the longevity of a slushy is a favorite of his. jacobi lives off road snacks, but will find a way to complain about the points of a michelin star. he just likes bitching! the stinky cheese (see: Need To Know) pictured is a baked Camembert, because it's my post and i get to pick the cheese. Camembert is one of my personal favorites, but it can be fairly pricy and is a pain to clean up, which doesn't matter to jacobi (goddard company credit card please!)
kitchen sin: he spends an excruciatingly long time on any meal to the point where, if he had his way, they'd bleed into each other by taking an average of one bite every 15 minutes.
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DR. ALANA MAXWELL
the drink pictured is a rockstar energy, but whatever legal(ish) stimulants can get inside her body the most effectively is maxwell's favorite. she eats a lot of takeout (see: Mission Mishaps Happy Holidays) because it's quick when she forgets to eat all day and it's tasty and she has the pay grade for it. she grew up in a tiny nowhere town that was in all likelihood at least partially a food desert, and her family dinner table warranted a restraining order, so i think in her adult life she tries to get as far away from that as possible. this often manifests in trying all the outlandishly spicy things she can get her greasy mitts on, because she is both inquisitive and masochistic. fuego takis are pictured because theyre a staple snack that jacobi will buy for her if she promises to share (she's lying and will eat the whole bag)
kitchen sin: she allows the nearly-empty cans, bottles, bowls, and bags to sit out and fester. once every 2 weeks she sets a timer and rushes through dumping it all into a giant black trash bag so that she doesn't get an infestation of ants again.
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OFFICER DOUGLAS F. EIFFEL
and the "F" stands for food! eiffel definitely spends the most time talking about food. he's hungry! since his eating habits are so prominent in the show, i figured a compilation of his food and drink moments in canon would work a little bit better than my own personal extrapolation. excerpts from Limbo and Boléro were omitted.
kitchen sin: while some people might argue that pineapple on pizza belongs in this spot, i am not so judgemental. i just want him to eat from dishes that aren't visibly dirty.
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HERA
[insert byte joke]
kitchen sin: she doesn't have a mouth.
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