#as much as i love reblogging other amazing simmers
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Ok this is a weird request but I'm in that overthink -> procrastinate -> get depressed -> overthink cycle again so if one or more of my beloved mutuals could send me a message around 7pm EST today along the lines of "stop being an idiot and write the next Rogue Town update, bitch", I'd really appreciate it. It's at that point where me saying it to myself isn't working because I just tell myself to shut up and leave me alone. 🙄🙄🙄
#ramblings#writing struggles#it's been real thin on original content around here#i don't want to be just another reblog blog#as much as i love reblogging other amazing simmers#i would like to be one of them#ya know?#btw the 'bitch' part is not optional#bully me into greatness please
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50 KITCHEN WITCH TIPS TO MAKE YOU FEEL MORE WITCHY
(And other useful things I've learned over the years)
Hi! This is a list of dos, don'ts, tips, tricks, and other fun things that I've learned over the years. I always love finding more effective and efficient ways of doing things so if you have any cool things you'd like to add, leave them in the comments or reblog. I'd love to read it.
Anyways... On with the list ^_^
Light candles around your kitchen space (just make sure nothing flammable is near you)
Annotate your cookbooks with the correspondence of the ingredients.
Mediating is really good to calm the mind before cooking.
Cut oranges and lemons thinly, dry them, and hang them with twine around your kitchen
Need a cleansing tip? Open all your windows near your kitchen. Let some fresh air in.
Cutting sigils into apples, pie crusts, and carved potatoes.
Save lemon and orange rinds, freeze them, and then use them to clean the garbage disposal.
Make infused oils and honey: Things like garlic honey, lavender honey, herb oil, sun oil, moon oil, dandelion oil, and other different edible oils are very fun and useful to make.
Hid sigils in pages of your cookbooks and kitchen witch journals.
Add some plants! Snake plants and spider plants don't need too much light, and growing your own herbs in your kitchen is awesome too. Basil, lavender, thyme, aloe vera, rosemary, etc. are good fits. You could also add some plants that require more sunlight on the kitchen window sill. Like cacti and succulents.
Bring crystals into your kitchen space such as rose quartz, clear quartz, amethyst, or whatever you want the space's intentions to be.
I keep a small money tree on the sill, along with cacti for luck and protection.
Make a simmer Pot! Mostly because it makes the whole house smell good, easy, and fun.
Stir clockwise for best results!
Learning how to pickle things is actually pretty witchy. Plus, anyone could do it as it requires absolutely no kitchen experience. You could pickle any vegetable, even if you don't like pickles. I originally learned this after having to take shelter from a natural disaster. A person brought a bunch of stuff and taught us how to pickle things with different spices and herbs. Very fun!
Decorate your kitchen with your favorite stuff. Crystals, decor, heat mits, that cool mushroom cake stand you've been eyeing at the World Market for the past 2 weeks, cool looking curtains, sun catchers. Why stop there? Paint the walls, hang shelves full of marked-up cookbooks that are a little too well-loved and thumbed through.
Wanna be the person that has the amazing-smelling house every time people come over? Syrups take some time to simmer down, it's actually a pretty good time to leave it on the stove to simmer. Since syrups have a lot of aromatic ingredients, it acts as a really good-smelling simmer pot.
Hang up herbs to dry with twine from cabinets that are rarely used.
Invest in that new set of plates and cups.
Homemade jams, butter, sauces, and syrups are your best friend.
Crochet or knit your own dish rags, pot holders, etc.
Don't pour extremely hot things into a glass that's not Pyrex, it will break, and you will be very sad about it.
Don't cook anything while extremely upset or emotional (For safety reasons)
Make recipes you want to make, not just because you'll like the effect. Make it because you think it's tasty.
Chinese Five Spice works in place of herbs for protection and luck spells a lot of the time! It's cheaper to buy 1 spice than 4 different spices that total up to 15 dollars when you could just spend 3-4 dollars.
Take a shower before cooking (I don't know how to explain this one other than it makes you feel better)
Don't use microfiber/plastic material clothes on hot burners, it will fuse to the burner and melt. It is VERY hard to get off.
I don't know if I need to put this one but I did see someone do it so nonstick pan = wooden utensils and plastic utensils, metal pan = metal utensils. Do not use a metal spoon in a nonstick pan, please. It can make you very sick.
Keep your pets away from hot oil, open ovens, and hot pans.
You can proof bread dough in the fridge overnight if you don't have the time to bake, or want to eat fresh bread right in the morning.
Need a quick witchy meal for dinner in 12 minutes? Use premade tomato pasta sauce and doctor it up with thyme, rosemary, and garlic, for protection and distilling stagnant energies. Serve with pasta of your liking.
You can substitute Butter for Crisco/shortening, buttermilk for 1 cup of milk + 1 tbsp apple cider vinegar or lemon juice, and heavy cream for 1 cup of half and half plus 2 tbsp of butter.
Use leftover animal bones to make bone broth
Teach yourself the art of bread scoring (It's fun, and you can show it off to your loved ones!)
Collect and hoard your own and others' family recipes.
Sometimes the food doesn't have to be a spell, sometimes it just makes you feel good and you don't know why.
Listen to your favorite music in the kitchen, it makes the monotonous things like chopping veggies move faster.
Invest in a vegetable chopper if you don't like chopping vegetables.
Find a really good hot cocoa recipe and make it once a week. Master it. Just for your own happiness because hot cocoa is really good. You could also be the friend/family member that makes the best hot cocoa ever.
Focaccia Bread Lasts a very long time, and it's very easy to make!
Keep a first aid kit near where the oven is, in case of burns, cuts, or serious injuries where time is everything.
Quick Bread and no-rise loaves are simple for beginners, tasty, and take little time. They also feel very witchy to make.
Study a bit of Herbalism! It's fun and really helps better understand the herbs you're putting into your food.
While something is boiling, put your wooden spoon over the pot to minimize the chance of something boiling over.
Try a bit of coffee magick, it's simple to get into, and gives you a boost of energy to take on the day!
If you're over 21, wine-making is a very interesting way to celebrate the sabbats. Just with that, make sure you KNOW what you're doing. With anything fermented, there's always a risk if you don't store things correctly. Apple wines, strawberry wines, dandelion wines, etc. all very cool to experiment with. If you're not over 21, vinegar is a similar way to experiment.
Hang up some witchy things, sigils, photos, cool magnets, and other things that give you joy on your fridge. (Sometimes if you are lucky they have some fun magnets at five below)
If you live in the US, for some reason, there are a lot of books in the book section dedicated to witchcraft and spirituality. At least where I live. And they are all under 5 dollars!
Teas are the cheapest and easiest things you can practice being a kitchen witch.
#witches#witchy#kitchen witch#witch#magick#witches of tumblr#kitchen witch recipes#modern witch#modern witchcraft#food#witchcraft#witchblr#food blogs#witch aesthetic#witchy vibes#wicca#baby witch#beginner witch
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hello! my name is joey (or joe) and i'm a fresh out of the box simblr. i've been on tumblr in different fandoms since i was fifteen (i'm now in my thirties and greying rapidly) but i've always lurked around simblr for cc and inspiration. i’m a non-binary (they/them) asexual, neurodiverse gamer with a love of horror, anime, space and dystopian medias.
the sim above is my oc called odie chicken. she is the protagonist of my sim story 'the weird world of odie chicken' which i will be bringing to my blog through edits and gameplay + lots of lore ramblings. as well as reblogging so much amazing ts4 (sometimes ts2) content, i also will be posting lookbooks, cas challenges, and anything else that catches my fancy.
i am looking to discover and connect with other creative simmers, so please feel free to interact so that i can follow you 😻
#the sims 4#sims 4#ts4#ts4 simblr#new simblr#new simblr alert#sims 4 simblr#maxis match#maxis mix#sims 4 community#simblr intro#sims blog#ts4 edit#ts4 portrait#ts4 cas#sims 4 cas#ts4 alien#show us your sims
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Heyyy! Thanks for always replying to my reblogs and for adding the cutest Bucky pics 💓 it makes me happy to comment on your amazing works and I’m glad it’s a way of connecting!
Also it means that I got sent a cute Bucky pic on my Birthday, which is a gift itself 🙃
HAPPY BLOODY BIRTHDAY, SWEETHEART! I hope you enjoy this present, and I hope you're having the best day! 🥰
⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞
Like hell would your friends let you celebrate your special day alone.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈
✿ Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕
✿ 585
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔
✿ Tooth rotting fluff, rushed writing
𝐈𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Today was the big day – your birthday had approached faster than you could process, the days ticked by faster than you could blink, and if Bucky’s reaction (not to mention the whole group’s), today was not going to pass by without a fuss.
You had been ordered, via text, to arrive at the shop at seven o’clock sharp – which was after the doors closed and the shop would be empty.
Which it was. Quite literally.
The windows were dark, lights long turned off, and there wasn’t a car in sight.
“The fuck?” You mumbled, stepping out from your car with a slight frown, the slight breeze kissing your skin and making an array of goosebumps to rise. It was a little disheartening, if you were honest – arriving on the dot to see no one there? Nerves simmered in your stomach.
Swallowing the sudden lump in your throat, you stepped up on the sidewalk and crossed to the door – only, there was a piece of paper taped to the door.
‘To our Sunshine, our Sunny – the love of our lives and the light of our days, open the door, and come inside.’
“That’s not creepy at all,” you whispered, chuckling. “Alright, I’ll bite.”
The door opened with a quiet squeak, but the lights didn’t turn on once you stepped over the threshold. Seconds ticked by as you stood in the darkened shop, and your apprehension only grew – what the hell was going on? “Guys–Buck? Hello?”
A lot of things happened, all at once.
The lights flickered on to reveal streamers and banners, balloons and confetti, covering the entirety of the shop – music suddenly blasted from the speakers along the ceiling, and there, right in front of you, stood everyone.
Smiles blinding, eyes bright, and arms wide. “Happy fucking birthday, Sunshine!”
“Oh my god!” You yelled, your hands flying to your open mouth. Shock rooted you in place and you watched, awestruck, while Bucky rushed forward with the others following close behind. “Guys! I thought–”
“We would never forget about our Sunny,” Steve laughed, pulling you into a bear hug. Your arms wrapped around him just before he was pulled away by Nat.
“Like we ever would,” she chimed in, pulling you into her side, wide smirk on her blood red lips.
Peter rushed forward next, a grin of childish glee on his face. “Hell no, Sunshine! C’mere.” You were pulled into a crushing hug, and you laughed, hugging him back with just as much enthusiasm.
“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Bucky called, pulling Peter off you. “I would like to wish my girl a happy birthday, can the lot of you fuck off?”
Everyone cleared out to the back room with orders to not take forever, and you were left alone with Bucky who didn’t waste a second on pulling you close. “Today’s the day, huh, baby?”
“Mhm.” You nodded into his chest, revelling in his tight embrace. “It is.”
“That means I gotta say happy birthday then,” Bucky said lowly, pulling you back. You grinned and met him halfway for a deep kiss, pouring all of your gratitude and love into it.
When Bucky finally pulled back, he rested his forehead on yours, and he smiled softly as he gently swayed the both of you side to side. “Happy birthday, sweetheart–there aren’t any words that even cover just how lucky a fella like me is, to have you.”
“You big sap,” you replied, and Bucky laughed, shaking his head.
“But you love it.”
And you did.
⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁
⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁
#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes fluff#rookthorne's works#rookthorne responds#Sunshine#Manny 💜
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Piarles Winter Fic Exchange 2023/24 - The Final Round-Up
AO3 Collection Link
After three months of build-up and two weeks of spectacular fic reveals, the Piarles Winter Fic Exchange 2023/24 has finally drawn to its close 💙 Today, it is my honour and pleasure to share with you the results of all of our efforts: an astounding 478 616 words written over the course of twenty-eight brand-new Piarles fics. 🎉
We want to start by saying a MASSIVE thank you to all our incredible creators. You are all so wonderful and so so talented - it has been a delight and a privilege to spend the last few months with you. To laugh with you and to create with you and to share the Piarles joy with you. You are all phenomenal, and we feel so lucky that you chose to spend this time with us. ❤️
I also want to take this opportunity to say a personal thank you to my amazing mod team: @boxboxbrioche, @welightitup, @duquesademiel, @wolfiemcwolferson and @river-ocean. Moderating this exchange with you has been a slightly crazy rollercoaster ride, but I couldn't have asked for better people by my side throughout it. Thank you all, for everything!!
Below the cut we have the final round-up of all our 2023/24 Piarles Winter Fic Exchange gift fics. You are in for a real treat - enjoy!!! And don't forget to show the authors some love in the form of kudos, comments, bookmarks and tumblr reblogs 💘
Thank you all so much again.
Love and kisses,
Katie, Briony, Tia, Sol, Logan & River ❤️💙
you and me were raised in the same part of town by @wolfiemcwolferson | rated M | 11.6k words | tumblr post here
A story of two best friends told through the years in the setting of Charles' childhood treehouse.
damage, destruction by @pinkierre | rated T | 6.7k words | tumblr post here
Pierre Gasly doesn’t win the 2016 GP2 title, and thus he stays in the category for another year with Prema. He’s joined for the 2017 F2 season by his long time best friend and fresh GP3 champion Charles Leclerc.
What starts as a dream come true, quickly turns into a nightmare.
Fast forward 8 years later and they’re teammates again. At Ferrari F1 team. However this time, they hate each other. How will they cope?
Chasing What’s on the Other Side by @espithewarlock | rated E | 15.8k words | tumblr post here
A Mafia AU where Pierre is immediately obsessed with Charles, the newly-introduced romantic partner of his biggest rival, Carlos. He begins dangerously pursuing Charles, they fall into bed together, and his obsession only gets more real the more he learns about Charles’ history. Meanwhile, Pierre is also trying to keep his business running and figure out exactly what his rivals are plotting. There’s something simmering, and he does not like having a target on his back.
model behaviour by @your-littlesecret | rated T | 8k words
Charles isn't sure what he should be doing here - he is not proud to admit he completely zoned out as Camille was explaining - but the gorgeous guy is just standing there and Charles says fuck it and walks to him, extending a hand.
"Hi"
"Hello. I am Pierre." His smile is almost blinding and Charles feels like he's never seen someone as beautiful in his whole life - which is very fitting, considering he is a model.
change my mind by @chaesonghwas | rated M | 31.8k words | tumblr post here
When Lance drags him to a Drama Club meeting, Pierre doesn't expect to stay for long, but he meets Charles, brother to one of his fraternity's new pledges, and he decide to give it a chance. After all, Charles seems interested in him too - what could go wrong?
Stop the World I Wanna Get Off With You by @crimsonicarus | rated T | 2k words
It was easy with Charles, talking, spending time, being silent. It felt natural, like breathing. Laughing at his awful jokes came from his mouth effortlessly, like another mother tongue.
five january seconds by @fenesacha | rated E | 8.9k words
Charles' phone is on the counter between them, and Pierre reaches out to tap the screen, waking the device up. He spares one second to look at Charles’ new background, a photo of the two of them in their Christmas jumpers, before he glances at the date. There, not changing no matter how many times he blinks: Tuesday, 2 January.
What the fuck.
falling Inn love (five years later) by @gaslybottoms | rated T | 17.5k words
“American style holiday inn,” Lando reads from the description, squinting at the small font on the screen. “Family owned and run for the last three generations, the All Pine Inn is located deep in the heart of the South Downs, with picturesque views over the rolling hills of the local area. A step back from city life, the local village is a peaceful respite away from the busy day to day. See Charles, it seems perfect."
OR
Charles takes a trip to the country for the Christmas holidays, and rekindles an old almost romance along the way.
All The Pebbles Along The Way by @shankyspork | rated M | 17k words
Centering around friendship and grief, this fic takes the slow road through life and its meaningful moments, hoping to bring you to the conclusion that belonging is something innate.
all I ever wanted by @golden-fairylights | Not Rated | 8.4k words
When Charles received the email that Prince Pierre would attend his vernissage, he didn't know that by the end of the night, he would have found his soulmate.
Anything you can do, I can do better by @whatdidwejustdo | rated T | 2k words
In which Pierre and Charles are insufferably competitive mechanics for rival F1 teams (Red Bull vs Ferrari) and their friends (Carlos, Alex, and Yuki) suffer.
Endless snark, friendship, and references to decades of F1 lore.
Or:
"Well.” Pierre’s eyes were sharp and blue. "Have you ever re-assembled Max Verstappen's car in twenty minutes when it was supposed to take forty, and watched him put together a hot lap in the dying seconds of Q2 to make it into Q3 and take pole?"
let's be what we are by @hourcat | rated E | 46.1k words | tumblr post here
Some weekends go better than others, and the only time Charles sees his best friend is at the post-race afterparties that the bigger teams throw. They’ll clink bottles of gross tasting beer and chat with one of the other drivers relegated off to the side this season, and it feels like they’re the karting kids again.
Some weekends, though, Pierre is draped along Charles’ back, all but welded together after an early spin-out ended his day, and Pierre will give him what he needs—what they need.
(or: pierre, charles, and the consequences of a lifetime of touch.)
Can I just be in my head with you? by @chipsandnuggets | rated T | 7k words
"Pierrot,” he mumbles without thinking, while he separates for a moment from Pierre, but still keeps some closeness. “Can I have you? At least in my head? Can I have you like this, every time I want, in my head?”
5 times Pierre and Charles desire something plus one they finally do something about it.
Le Cheval Cabré by @moonlight0starlighte | rated G | 24.3k words
Charles, a tortured Michelin star chef, returns home for his father’s passing and discovers the family restaurant has been left to him. Though his grief feels stifling at times, Pierre, his oldest friend, is the light that guides him through it all.
Job 37:6 by @mysticalbreadcollective | rated E | 8.3k words
Maybe he can pass it off as a drunken hookup. A one-time thing. They can both forget it ever happened and move on. Pierre doesn’t need to remember Charles whining and panting beneath him. He can bury it down with the piece of his heart that Charles owns always.
take my hand (put yours over my heart) by @duquesademiel | rated T | 37.7k words | tumblr post here
Pierre Gasly has been declared Public Enemy Number One after breaking Charles’ best friend’s heart. Which, honestly, makes working in their charity work together just a little bit too awkward. A Christmas box, a lot of charity work, football matches and flower crowns might change Pierre’s status in Charles’ books - with a little dash of fake dating, of course.
hearts in the byline by @ilspredestinato | rated M | 25.6k words | tumblr post here
“You know,” Frédéric’s hands are crossed in front of him, fingertips tightening after every pause, “there is only one thing that brings stability to a Kingdom without it being a marriage.”
Charles draws in a sharp breath—he knows, nodding almost imperceptibly once Frédéric falls into a hesitant silence.
A courtship.
The Defenders by @justahappycloud | rated G | 30k words | tumblr post here
You showed me colours I can't see with anyone else by @radiocheck | rated E | 9.5k words | tumblr post here
Metropolis, a city for all kinds of people: good people, bad people, and people with special abilities.
Pierre, alias Blue Arrow, considers himself a special person. With the ability to fly like a bird and bend the toughest of materials at his will, he has decided to use these gifts to protect the city he loves.
But what happens when a new threat arises that could destroy everything he'd ever loved?
To prevent this, Pierre joins a group of other three heroes and an unlikely ally so that they can maybe, hopefully, save Metropolis from the claws of this new powerful villain.
“I really thought you didn’t like me, you know,” Pierre muses. “You were always so… defensive.”
Charles smiles thoughtfully. There are small dimples in his cheeks and his hair falls softly over his forehead as he glances down at the table before replying. “It was never that. I think I was afraid I would like you too much, if I let myself.”
In which Pierre falls for his roommate's best friend, Lando is never where he's supposed to be, and Charles is a dream in technicolour.
show me who made you walk all the way here by @yukierres | rated M | 36.5k words | tumblr post here
Pierre is being blackmailed by a former lover into coming out, but risks losing his seat at Ferrari if he does. Charles is a prince who is forbidden from coming out until he has a long-term partner.
The solution seems so obvious. Pretending shouldn't be that hard, right? Right?
still waking every morning (but it's not with you) by @river-ocean | rated T | 6.5k words
Charles loves being an actor. It’s what he has always felt was born to do. But he hates that it means that he has to spend so many days of the year away from the people he loves the most. He hates that even though he technically lives with his boyfriend, he is still in a de facto long-distance relationship most of the time.
anything, everything by @leclercenjoyer | rated E | 5.8k words | tumblr post here
Pierre and Charles go on a ski trip together, and things don't exactly go as planned. (Or do they?)
They Will Never Know by @effervescentdragon | rated M | 35.3k words | tumblr post here
Most stories are about blood. This story is not an exception.
Charles disappeared.
As for Pierre, well.
Pierre had a very big secret.
Point Non Plus by @boxboxbrioche | rated E | 22.7k words | tumblr post here
brought to Point Non Plus
idiom, commonly used in the Regency era
1. to be brought to a situation with no other options.
2. to baffle or confuse someone to the point that they have nothing to say.
or: with his reputation in ruins and his options limited, Charles receives an offer from Lord Pierre Gasly that he simply cannot refuse.
like a heart made of dynamite by @vicsy | rated E | 31k words
Maybe all these years they were coming towards each other like a car crash in slow motion. Charles just had to wait for the brakes to fail.
and i long for you to appear by @singsweetmelodies / 17.5k | rated T | tumblr post here
When now-famous actor Pierre Gasly gets himself into a bit of PR trouble, it's up to his childhood best friend to step in and save the day. Thankfully, Charles is an expert public relations manager... the only question is if he'll be able to stop his feelings getting in the way when he finally sees Pierre again after all these years.
hold me in this wild, wild world by @fenesacha & @gaslybottoms | rated T | 2k words
Cross-country skiing isn't Pierre's forte. While he managed to stay upright during their earlier outing, it's done little to shake off his aversion to the sport that Charles seems to love so much - or, rather, his aversion to winter as a whole.
#piarles winter fic exchange 2023/24#piarles winter fic exchange#pwfe 2023/24#piarles fic#10 x 16#❤️❤️❤️❤️ thank you SO much for another amazing winter fic exchange!!!!#see you all next year? 👀❤️
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New simblr alert!
Hey everyone, I’m Moss (she/her, 33) and I play TS3.
I am an OG simmer-hag and have been around since the beginning, but 3 is my true love and that’s what I’m here for these days. TS4 has been dead to me since 2014, sorry. xD
I’m also totally new to tumblr in general which means I’m not at all familiar with tumblr culture/social norms. Please do not assume I am being rude if I do something “wrong.” If I like something instead of reblogging it, it’s not some coded insult; I’m just learning the platform, so stay calm. ;)
A little about what I might be posting here:
Screenshots of my gameplay + stories
CAW projects
Sims
Learning how to make basic mods/cc but no promises!
Be advised that my page is intended for an 18+ audience.
After over 20 years of being involved with this franchise, I’m excited to finally connect with other simmers!
Thank you so much to all the amazing cc creators, modders, storytellers, and just general enthusiasts who keep the magic alive. <3
#ts3#ts3 simblr#simblr#new simblr#sims 3#the sims 3#apparently tumblr tags are for saying witty things
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NEW TO SIMBLR! ❧ SIMBLR ALERT
Hi! I’m a new simblr, Ely (she/her). I’m a 20 year old university student who spends way too much time living vicariously through my sims. I’ve been lurking around simblr for a while now, mainly to hunt for an insane amount of cc, and have been wanting to join the simblr community and share some of my own gameplay and content as well as meet and connect with other simmers!
I plan on posting a variety of content from gameplay, my sims, lookbooks, edits and as I get the hang of simblr and creating content I plan on sharing much more! I am also a maxis match/mix simmer ♡
I am quite new to posting on tumblr and still learning the ropes of this community, so if you are a simblr and have any tips on posting and creating content for my blog I would love to hear them!
I would love to connect with other simmers in the simblr community as well and I would really appreciate it if you would like/reblog so I could find some amazing blogs to follow and meet.
Have a great day!
#simblr#ts4#new simblr#the sims 4#new simmer#new simblr alert#new sims blog#blog intro#the sims community#sims 4 screenshots#sims 4 gameplay
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Directory📝
→PSA/Intro! (read b4 u have a bitchfit)←
The name is Piqt and this blog is 18+. My playstyle features the lifestyles that stray away from the typical "happy-nucleur-family-in-windenberg" type stuff and instead sheds light onto the other side of the pond. I'm on Windows, play with almost every pack due to a beautiful thing called ✨piracy✨, been in the game since the month it released (in case you need to reach out to someone seasoned for troubleshooting), and am currently using 5+ GB of cc/scripts.
WCIF friendly and I hope I can actually help you in that regard through my shitmix of a folder!
Going forward, since you will encounter content in this pinned post that some in the community have had literal tantrums about, I would like to state ✨EA is a leech, delivers broken content again and again for a loaded price and doesn't deserve your morality✨ and I, as someone who has been pirating since 2005, will keep pirating it's content and advocating for others to do so. In the terms of me sharing my own + others mod folders, I also give 0 fucks about someone losing .3 cents of ad revenue as I believe internet ads are literal acidic dogshit and shouldn't exist.
→Tags for this blog←
#thebuildtag [my own builds]
#thescenerytag [scenery edits]
#thelifetag [portrait/life shots]
#thememetag [meme/shitposts/glitches]
#favbuilds [builds i love by others]
#favcontenttag [content i love by others]
The Masterposts!
◤Anadius's Twitter (site in bio)
→Kinda speaks for itself. Kudus to this guy for his work & time in creating such programs for our community!
◤Blogger who compiles DLC content made BGC by various creators
→An absolute godsend before I got the courage to tell EA to go fuck itself and just rip their entire game + all their packs. These creators are absolutely amazing for doing this♡
◤Sims 4 Mod Manager
→Vital in any scenario when sorting mods/cc due to it's access of all the thumbnails, but you just gotta have this if you're gonna download someone's 50+ GB mod folders like I tend to do. Kudos to this guy as well for an amazing, user friendly program!
◤Sims 4 Price Call Out
→A while back I made a post calling out the insane price EA makes for content that lacks its worth + is almost always broken upon release, leaving us to fix it. This post is updated every few months and is there to show you just how much your paying for assets that lack functionality + are bare minimum in terms of design.
◤Paysitesmustbedestroyed + TS4Rebels
→Both sites hold cc content that is blocked behind paywalls.
◤My personal Mod Folder + recommended/best scripts↓
→*take note as its been a few patches since I made this list and folder, both could be out of date though as of today (04/04/24) it works- check with creator pages/popular conflict detectors if worried*
Mod Folder (5+ GB)
Script List w/ links
•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡
Though this blog is mainly a simblr-story type blog, it will also feature CC I find appealing + reblogs of other simmer's gameplay. If you find yourself ever with a broken game, need to find CC, or just need basic troubleshooting help, shoot me an ask/PM and I'll try my best to help!! Also, though it's pretty abandoned, my older storylines are over on insta @ hoodsimz if you want to check it out
#ts4 simblr#simblr#ts4#ts4cc#ts4 gameplay#ts4 legacy#sims 4 cc#ts4 story#ts4 cas#the sims 4 community#the sims 4 gameplay#thepinnedposts
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MIRRORS & GLASSES
aka Different Reflections
You are more than what you see in yourself.
Summary Bob gives you words of encouragement to help you feel better about yourself
Pairing Robert Floyd x reader
Theme angst, with a happy ending
Warning/s body dysmorphia; obsessive looking into mirrors
Word Count 844
Note This turned out very different from what I had planned, and it ended up being about something very close to home. Body dysmorphia is no joke, and I feel that this ficlet barely scratches the surface of how serious it can actually get, but this fic is based on part of my own experiences with it and what I choose to share of it.
And million, billion thanks to @hangmanbrainrot for being an overall amazing person and for beta reading this for me! I wouldn’t have had the courage to post this if it weren’t for you 💗
If you suffer or think you suffer from body dysmorphic disorder, please seek out help at your local healthcare provider. Reach out to loved ones that you can confide in and turn to for help. You are loved, and you are not alone in your journey. Full fic under the cut for you to read at your own discretion.
If you enjoyed this, please reblog! Reblogs are the best way to support creators (writers, artists, gif makers, everyone!) on this platform. Share the content, share the love!
It was a mirror. Not a magnifying glass. Not a microscope. But a mirror.
Yet all you saw were the details. The flyaway hairs that had a mind of their own. The fine hairs on your upper lip that looked even thicker today than yesterday. The shirt that hung unflatteringly on your shoulders. The pants that seemed awkwardly tight at the hips. Just to name a few.
At the back of your mind, you kept wishing that this mirror was a fake—the kind that made you look distorted like the ones at the carnival. But this was just an ordinary IKEA mirror, so it only showed you your true reflection. And there was no hiding anything when in front of a mirror.
And you hated that.
“Hey, darling. Are you ready to go?” Your boyfriend called at you from the other side of the bathroom door.
Bob. If you couldn’t stand to see yourself like this, you were even more scared to be in front of someone else—let alone, him.
“Uh, you go on ahead,” you replied as steadily as you could. You sat on the floor observing the mess you made: the makeup strewn across the counter from trying to hide the flaws you found on your face, and the piles of clothes around you after trying on multiple outfits and not feeling good in a single one.
A soft knock echoed from behind the door accompanied with an equally soft voice sounding your name. “Is everything okay?”
When you didn’t reply, Bob peeked his head inside the room and found you sitting with your back against the wall. Defeat hung on your face while frustration simmered inside you.
“Oh, honey,” he sighed and knelt in front of you, “what’s wrong?”
You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “Nothing works. No matter what I do or what I wear, I look like shit. I feel like shit.” On the verge of tears, you ducked your head in shame as you picked at the hem of your shirt. “I put on too much makeup, I look silly. But if I don’t, I look terrible. None of my clothes fit me right—half of them are from when I was a different size, and the other half that do fit don’t make me feel like…me.”
You let out a sad laugh. “Sorry, I know it sounds silly, me complaining about clothes and makeup…I know everyone says that you shouldn’t always rely on those things to make you feel good, and I try not to. I really try not to.” You tucked your knees to your chest, trying to hide yourself even more. “But it’s so hard to like who I am when I don’t like what I see, you know? I feel like I’m looking at a stranger; I don’t feel like myself.”
With his fingers placed gently under your chin, he lifted your head to face him, “Hey, baby,” he whispered, “look at me.” As soon as your eyes locked with his, he wiped away with the pads of his thumbs the couple of tears that managed to run down your cheeks. He wasn’t a stranger to you crying, but he’d never seen you this hurt.
“You are beautiful, okay? Even when you don’t feel like it, you are. You’re always as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside. Yeah, your body’s not gonna be the same forever, and neither will mine. But we’re still going to be us. And through all those changes, I promise you, I will love those new parts of you just as much as I love the old ones. And I hope you’ll love those parts of you, too, even more than I do right now.”
As he spoke, you saw your reflection in the lens of his glasses. You saw your messy hair, your tear-stained face, and your rumpled clothes. But behind your reflection, there was no mistaking of the safety, assurance, and love you saw in Bob’s eyes. And when he looked at you like that, he was looking at everything, more than what a mirror could ever show.
“And honestly, darling, I happen to think you look good in anything,” he announced, making a small laugh and smile escape your lips, “not that what I think should matter, but I just want to point the truth out to you. Whether you’re in your baggiest sweats or your tightest dress, you take my breath away.”
You leaned forward and gave him a kiss on his cheek, letting your lips linger in sincere gratitude.
“Thank you, Robby,” you sighed, letting his speech wash over you.
“You’re very welcome, baby.” He returned your kiss with his own on your forehead. “One thing’s for sure.”
“What is?” you asked.
Bob placed his hand on your back, motioning you to move forward. He sat behind you, his legs at your sides, and his arms wrapped around you in the biggest bear hug you’ve ever received.
“There’s always one place you’re gonna fit in: right here in my arms.”
Disclaimer I do not own Top Gun: Maverick or any of its characters. Please do not copy my work or translate without my permission.
Edited layout
#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fanfiction#tgm fic#robert bob floyd#robert bob floyd fanfiction#robert bob floyd fanfic#robert bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd imagine#robert floyd fanfiction#robert floyd fanfic#robert floyd x reader#robert floyd imagine#bob floyd#bob fanfiction#bob x reader#bob fic#bob top gun#top gun bob
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Sul sul! My name is Cory, though you can call me ely, and welcome to my simblr~
I’ve been pretty much lurking around sims tumblr for a couple years now and decided to make a new blog to try my hand at sharing my sims content with the community. I’m mostly gonna be posting cas portraits or lookbooks, but would like to try my hand at posting gameplay soon as well. It’ll be a blue moon if I ever post builds, and I must be feeling some sort of way if a sims edit makes it onto my dash.
A couple notes about myself: I’m a 2002 baby turned 20 this year. I go by she/her pronouns but don’t mind they/them. I’m bilingual in Spanish, born and raised in Puerto Rico, but currently residing in the US. I’m a college student who aspires to be a good educator one day. I have two dogs: a chihuahua and a basset hound. Other than the sims, my hobbies include painting, listening to kpop, and reading cheesy fanfics or manga.
Don’t be shy, please like or reblog if you’d like to be mutuals! I’d love to get to know many more amazing simmers in this community <3
#new simblr#new simblr alert#new simmer#new sims blog#simblr#ts4 simblr#ts4#the sims 4#sims 4#the sims#simblr intro#welcome wagon#new to simblr#simblr alert#elysiantrait
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i don't know if it's just me, but there's posts that i keep seeing that are like "people need to stop cycling through fandoms so fast," usually with a sentiment about the importance of commenting and sharing people's work and nurture their communities. i think Fandom Sustainability is a very interesting topic so i have THOUGHTS............
like first of absolutely all, that's a weird onus to put on people. Fandom Is For Fun. people don't usually control what their brainworms are gonna wriggle about. nobody should have to sign a five year contract for Enjoying Thing Together With Others. like. i understand that a lot of these posts are directed at people that are Enjoying the works of fanartists and fanfic writers, to urge them to share and react and feed their inspiration - but what about me, A Creator Of Such Things? are you making it my obligation to keep drawing fanart for a specific thing? becuase i've gotten plenty of lovely comments and feedback and all around soft and fuzzy feelings from the communities i've partaken in, but i'm only human. it's not that i lose love or interest for the properties, it's just - sometimes life happens. sometimes my momentum is unsustainable and i gotta slow down eventually. sometimes i want to draw other things!
and yeah, i'm only one person, i'm not a whole fandom, and i can only speak on my experiences. i just feel like there's a narrative of "nice comments and engagement can keep an artist/writer go on forever" which i don't really agree with. reblogs and comments absolutely make me want to make more stuff! being part of a community is absolutely inspiring and fills me with ideas! but that can only take me so far. i think plenty of artists carry the same feelings of guilt for not drawing more X, or have gotten asks pleading for more Y. feeling unappreciated is not the only reason people stop creating a specific content.
my next Thought is that i think there are external sources causing fandom lifespans to shorten. i think there's a well documented phenomena that it's easier to sustain a fan community for long running, serial media with waiting time inbetween content, than it is for one-off movies or like, entire showruns premiered all at once for bingeability. and the current climate of "we're probably going to cancel this show after two seasons for capitalist rot reasons" and disillusionment with corporation and streaming services? probably not helping either!
i DO think there's something to be said for the speed of social media as opposed to, what, email lists? snail mail compendiums? but early tumblr was like, dominated by approximately five fandoms or something for years and years, so it CAN be done. clearly. maybe the change for discord servers to be the main hubs for communities, as opposed to old school forums? i think that may be one of the culprits for sure, because servers are so fast and exhuasting and there's Stuff going on all the time and you can only keep up so much before you burn out. i think. maybe it's just me who's burnt out thinking about it, because i know there can be really good servers that are well moderated and paced and sustainable!
i've tried fandoming in several formats - i've done old school forum. i've done discord server. i've done Small Group Of Friends. i've done Just Vibing On My Blog/Twitter. and to me - and this is of course personal experience and not speaking for everyone else - the best longterm strategies for me has been the ones where i have the least contact with the actual fan communities. partaking in communities has been amazing and inspiring, i've made lots of close friends i'm still in contact with, but active participation in fandom is not something i can hold up forever. i can either burn in a fiery blaze for a little while or i can keep a low simmer for a long time. it's so much easier to love a story on my own terms when i don't have to be involved in every controversy of its fan community, even if it means trading away ideas and inspiration and drive. there's a balance to be struck between the two, of course.
then there's like... sometimes something happens, either with the Media or with the Fandom. there's always going to be a risk with attaching yourself to a community and pouring yourself into it. do i have to keep loving something even if the creator of it makes it too weird for me? should i have to stay in a space that causes me stress or pain? sometimes the right thing for us to do is leave. sometimes we need a change. i think it's lovely when people stay to keep communities good, to keep creating good fanwork in spite of dissappointing creators. i think it's good to nurture love, but. it's a choice everyone has to make for themself. you should stay because you want to, not to martyr yourself for the sake of proving a point.
last Thought i want to honor is that yeah, i believe there's Attitudes Afoot that are a sustainability drain: how old can a fandom get before it's Cringe? how large can a fandom get before it's Cringe? either we're all Cringe or none of us are. people love what they love, and is it not cruel to mock someone for something so joyful, based on arbitrary lines in the sand? if pre-2014 tumblr culture was good at anything it was to love hard and fearlessly.
i DO think it's worth creating good and sustainable communities, to love well and responsibly, and find joy on your own terms. i think there's many ways to fandom and one way isn't more right than the other. a relationship is worthwhile even when it's not everlasting.
#too long for twitter#hi i'm writing essays based on 2-3 posts i saw on my dashboard over the past couple months again#can you tell i'm burnt out and have fandom trauma#using the word Sustainable fifty times because i think that's at the core of intentionally doing things always
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My game recommendations
I had a reblog in my drafts folder for a couple of days to keep working on it and when I was done I saw that the original poster sadly deactivated reblogs on their post.
They lovingly suggested that simmers should indulge in other games too, and I couldn't agree more. It is a special feeling to dive into a new game, learn new mechanics, and have a very different experience from the last game you played.
I really put a lot of work into my answer, so I decided to make a new post for it.
I'm a simmer and a gamer (simming since 2000), gaming since 1994 or so.
I used to play Everquest II way back when and dabble in Elder Scrolls Online but I quit for Baldur's Gate III which has me obsessed for months now, highly enjoyable.
Sims 3 has fallen a few steps on my top 10 list in recent years, but I use it as a creative outlet anyway and do not tend to judge it against other games much. I do judge Sims 4 though, which is a sad state of affairs. I can have fun in it if I spend the time in CAS, or for the first 6 hours in a new expansion - but it's just too expensive for its little value, especially compared to other games on this list.
City Builder/Automation games:
Factory Town: super chill cozy vibe, automate logistics for your pixel-people town. Lovely game
Timberborn: build a town for cute beavers!
Farthest Frontier: a nice city simulation with some logistics and events such as raiders invading the town
Satisfactory: one of the most ambitious automation games, with amazing graphics, for people who like to puzzle, analyze/calculate, and really use their heads while gaming. I like to play it as a challenge and see how far I can take my spaghetti conveyor belts!
Frostpunk: a harrowing/grim atmosphere, dystopian, make hard choices for your town
Simulation games:
Roller Coaster Tycoon and Planet Coaster: I love building super scary rollercoasters and then riding them and trying to get people in the park to ride them too
Strategy games:
Anno 1800: I can spend my entire life in this game it feels, it is engaging and relaxing all at once - love this so much!
Action/adventure games:
Assassins Creed Origins: stunning world, super detailed visuals and fun combat mechanics
Scifi/Exploration
No Man's Sky: At first I thought this was more of a casual game, but prepare for a lot of grinding and long-ish quests. It is fun to discover new plants/creatures and name them!
Survival games:
Raft: great to play with friends too and it has a relaxed vibe but also survival mechanics that keep you engaged
The Long Dark: I love the art style and music so much, the story mode is great, the survival mode can be very challenging depending on settings and it is super immersive. Wrap yourself in a warm blanket to play 😂
Subnautica: my favorite game ever before Baldur's Gate 3 dethroned it! It is a game that will guide you to leave your comfort zone time and time again, but you choose when you feel ready for it. You can really follow your own pace and exploring the vast, beautiful, and terrifying depths of this ocean planet is absolutely immersive and filled with surprise and wonder. It has also very chill and calm base-building elements to counteract the scarier moments. The soundtrack is one of the best in terms of evoking feelings/ building atmosphere, do not turn off the sound while playing this game!!!
Storytelling games:
Life is Strange: a classic, it's fun to explore what we could change and what the consequences would be if we could go back in time.
Firewatch: very emotional and touching, leaving a lasting impression
Casual games:
Bridge Constructor Portal (the dark humor is a bonus, it's fun and trains your analytical thinking!)
Carcassonne (like the tabletop game, chill puzzle game)
Simulacra (you uncover a mystery on a phone, interesting idea!)
Retro Games:
My favorite old/retro game would be Black & White (from 2001), which I played when it originally came out, I loved it so much! The free camera was revolutionary at the time. You play a god who is powered by worshippers whom you can either provide and care for or reign terror over, and your actions decide your alignment, good, neutral, or evil. You get a creature that you can train (and will be more or less useful to your goals or disrupt them depending on how well you train it). IIRC, you can train the creature either in the story mode or sandbox/skirmish mode and then go back to story mode with a stronger creature. The mouse gestures which activate miracles in the air felt like a revolutionary new idea back then. The game is not available officially anymore, but it is downloadable from some abandonware websites and the community-made patches so it is still playable today! Writing this, I had to reinstall it right away... the nostalgia!
RPGs:
Cyberpunk 2077: it's just iconic, the city energy and car drives are nice, the story is interesting and it feels immersive
The Witcher 3: great quests and story, beautifully crafted open world
Baldur's Gate 3:
I could also talk for hours about Baldur's Gate 3. If there is one game out there that everyone should have tried once in their life, it's that one. It really lets you try any strategy you want and did not actually expect to work in a video game, but in BG3, it does. Even cheaty ones like pushing enemies from a cliff or using explosives to blow stuff up. If you got surprise-attacked but have no weapon handy, you can throw a grease bottle at the enemy that can make them slip and fall, and then you can throw your burning torch at it to light everything on fire. You can stack boxes to climb up to reach something (or throw a goblin body onto someone's head, because it's perfectly normal to carry those around with you). You can be sneaky and steal stuff, even rewards from enemies. Don't like fighting? You can talk your way out of most fights if your character has the necessary skills and still complete quests that way.
95% of NPCs have something to say, and if you click them again, they will have another line. The narrator is awesome. The companions have so much character, the banter is great and every character has its own story arc and goal, the voice acting is phenomenal all around. Definitely get the talk-to-animals skill and use it on all animals, you'll have hilarious conversations!
It's worth every penny, even if it's not on sale (and I hardly ever buy a game at full price, so that is saying a lot).
Thanks for reading, I hope you feel inspired to try some new games! Have fun 😊
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Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire
Summary: A small cabin, a roaring fire, Christmas decorations— it would have been perfect except for the fact that you've been holding Jake hostage. But you know it's just a matter of time before Jake starts to warm up to you.
Pairing: Jake Jensen x Soft Dark!Reader
Word count: 2.5k exactly!
Warnings: dub con, mentions of past non con, kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, smut +18 ONLY (minors DNI), unprotected sex (*strong Scottish accent* dont be silly, wrap yer willy), creampie, some fluff but it's a soft dark fic so not really, dark reader, basement husband!Jake.
A/N: This is my submission for @boxofbonesfic 's Bone-tastic Bone-bastic 5k writing challenge! The theme I selected was "fire place." I really, really, really hope that I stuck with the theme. If not, I will cry real tears and die of shame 🥲 This is inspired by @navybrat817 and her amazing fic "Merry Little Christmas" 😄 if you guys have the time, check it out! Thank you so much! Don't forget to comment and reblog because I'm sexy and I deserve it 🥰💖
Jake hates everything.
He hates being locked up. He hates that you’ve kept him for this long. He hates that you were able to kidnap him in the first place.
But what he hates the most is how sweet you are.
If you’d been harsh and cruel with him, then it would make hating you easier.
But no.
You’re annoyingly gentle with him. You feed him, wash his clothes; you even made him a cake on his birthday, sprinkles and all. Everything would be easier if you were evil, but you’ve never so much as raised your voice. In the beginning he’d beg to be set free, then hurl insults at you when you denied him until that sweet smile you gave him turned sad. He hated how that sad expression made his heart twist with guilt. He’d lost count of how many months he’s been held captive.
The snow continued to fall in a steady downpour, and it put you in a cozy mood. You sat on the couch, watching the flames in the large fireplace dance to the crackling of the embers, Christmas stockings hanging from the mantle, the lovely scent of firewood wafted through the isolated cabin.. The Christmas lights that you’d strung around the room gave you an ethereal glow that Jake wanted desperately to ignore. You wore one of Jake’s t-shirts, a pair of black sleep shorts, and fuzzy socks. Jake watched you from his spot on the couch, the close proximity no longer bothering him. You sighed contently, setting your cup of tea on the coffee table.
“All finished, Jakey?” You asked and gestured to his own cup of tea.
“Hm? Oh, y-yeah,” he nodded, “thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” you chuckled and took his cup, pressing a kiss to his head as you passed him. Normally, he’d recoil at your sweet gestures, the fact that you pretended that whatever this was was perfectly normal made him sick to his stomach. But he found himself smiling shyly up at you when you kissed his head.
Jake felt your hands run through his hair, his head tilting back to look up at you as you stand behind him. You sigh again with a placid look in your eye as you take in his features appreciatively, the yellow light from the fire only adding to his charm. Your hand caressing his head in slow pets, just how he likes it. You watch him swallow thickly, his eyes fluttering as you drag your nails across his scalp, his breathing catching. Your smile grows sinfully, and Jake knows what you’re going to say.
“Let’s go to bed, Jakey,” you purred.
He wanted to fight, but instead he nods dumbly, his face already flushed, his cock twitching in his grey sweatpants. With a pleased hum, you dip your head to plant a teasing kiss to his lips. You take a step back when he leans in for another one, luring him back to the Queen sized bed on the other side of the room. His feet carry him with you, enchanted by the soft yet devious look in your eyes, desire simmering under your demure appearance in the warm glow of the fire.
The backs of his knees hit the mattress, your hands lightly push at his shoulders to have him sit. Your gaze keeps him in a trance, his hands rest on your hips, and instead of pushing you away, they caress the fabric of your shorts. Jake was always shy, pretty girls were his weakness, and you are no exception. His breathing deepening as you inched closer to him, your lips ghosting over his. A shiver wracked his body at the light touch, your lips are always so soft and warm. He hates it. You capture his lips, his eyes slide shut with a gasp, the kiss is chaste and tender. He hates it too. Slowly, you deepen the kiss, moulding your lips against his with a little more fervor. Your tongue slides against the seam of his lips, teasing his mouth open until he willingly lets you in, you can’t help but moan at the taste of him, you feel his hands tighten around your hips.
The leather straps bound to each of the wooden bed posts were worn with use, claw marks littered the dark brown leather. The silver metal buckles that cinch around Jake’s wrists shine in the firelight. The motions to secure Jake’s limbs to the bed were smooth, practiced over the span of months, or however long Jake’s been trapped. You bite your lip at the sight of Jake’s tan, lean body tied to the bed, his cock laying against his stomach, the tip reddening as he gapes up at you. You pull off your shorts before crawling over him, your eyes predatory. You settle in his lap, smirking at the shuddering gasp he lets out when your clothed pussy nestles against his aching cock. Another blush dusts his face and chest.
“Lay down, Sweetie,” you whisper against his lips when you pull back for air. You can see flickers of defiance that bubble behind his eyes, it amuses you more than anything. You smile softly and pet his chin, the gruff facial hair scratches your palm. He licks his lips and scoots back to the center of the bed, taking off his shirt and tossing to the floor. His boxers and sweatpants are tossed to the floor with his t-shirt. Keeping his eyes on you, he lays back, his head against the pillows, arms and legs sprawled out. You feel a bubble of pride swell in your chest at his obedience.
“Aww, still shy?” You purr and kiss along his jaw, his hands tightening their grip on the leather straps.
“A l-little…” he whispers, hating how his head falls to the side for you to touch. You hum, and bring your lips to his ear.
“It’s ok, baby,” your voice is velvety and melodic, he hates it, you slowly start to rock back and forth, your juices soaking through your black panties and coating his shaft with each push of your hips. You mouth at his neck, making a trail for his mouth. “I’m gonna take care of you…”
Jake’s eyes slide shut, trying desperately to reign himself in, to maintain the quickly crumbling wall he’d built against you. He always looks so cute when he tries to block you out like this. You press a kiss to his forehead before sitting up straight in his lap, you toss the borrowed t-shirt to the floor. Jake can’t help but peel his eyes open when he hears your shirt hit the floor. The sight of your bare breasts illuminated by the fire had Jake’s hips thrusting instinctively; he hates it.
“F-Fuck,” you gasp, your eyes fluttering shut, “I was gonna suck that fat cock of yours, but you just wanna get right to it, don’t you, baby?”
Jake turned his head away, a wave of shame washing over him. You chuckle softly before pulling your cotton underwear off and tossing them behind you. The feeling of your soft slick pussy rubbing the sensitive tip of his cock has Jake gasping. Your hands sliding across his chest, the gentle caresses always made him shudder and today is no different. You mouth at his jaw, nibbling at the spot just below his ear, distracting him so he doesn’t notice you guiding his cock to your entrance.
In one fluid motion, you sink down on him, your walls opening up to welcome him home. A throaty groan vibrates through Jake’s chest as he fails to keep quiet. Your own fluttery moan fills the room, your thighs trembling around his narrow waist at the dizzying pleasure that courses through your veins. You hide your face in the crook of his neck to catch your breath.
“O-Oh fuck, Jake,” you whimper breathlessly into his throat, your sweet little body shaking against his, a thin layer of sweat beginning to form on your skin.
Giving Jake’s neck one final kiss, you push yourself up to sit in his lap. The shift of your hips had Jake slipping even deeper into your tight heat. His head rolls, his jaw hangs open as a stuttered gasp and moan falls from his lips, his eyes still shut. You grin at his reaction; Jake always makes the sweetest noises when you ride him like this; he loved being as deep as he physically could, even if he never admit it. Your hands rest on his chest, massaging his pecks as he shifts with need underneath you, his body betraying him.
You make sure to move as slow as you could, your hips drawing random patterns against his, building a rhythm that you know will drive him crazy. The tuft of hair at the base of his cock rubs against your clit, the friction only adding to your pleasure.
“You feel so good, Jake,” you praise sweetly, loving the way he struggles to keep from moaning, you speed your hips up slightly, the pace still tortuously slow, “and you’re so fucking deep, baby, can you feel it?”
He could. He could feel everything and it felt like Heaven.
The comfortable duvet cover underneath him, the softness of your skin as you ride him, the strong but gentle tension of the leather straps on his ankles and wrists, then your hot, wet cunt swallowing him whole. It was perfect, his whole body begging to stay here as long as possible, wanting to revel in the ungodly pleasure you give him. A small part of him reminded him that he shouldn’t want this; he shouldn’t want you to ride him like this, he shouldn’t want to feel you cum around him. But he does. And he hates it.
You get lost in the euphoria that takes over you, your pace speeding up a little more. Jake opens his eyes, immediately zeroing in on the place where your bodies meet. Your puffy lips stretched around his thick girth, your little nub swollen with need; and for the first time, Jake wishes he could rub it while you ride him. He tugs on the leather straps, the wooden posts groan at his efforts but stay put.
“Oh my God…” Jake whispers, his head falling back on to the pillows, not being able to touch you is driving him crazy. You give him a little more, your hips raising off his in a controlled motion, the slow movement giving you the chance to feel every ridge and vein on his shaft, your fluttering walls begging him to stay inside you. You lift up until only his fat tip remains inside you, then you let gravity pull you down harshly. “A-Ah!”
You moan with him before doing it again and again, his cock splitting you open with each drop. The room fills with the sounds of your moans, Jake’s groans, the crackling of the roaring fire, and the salacious wet claps of your bodies meeting in a hypnotizing rhythm. You can feel Jake’s chest heaving as he pants, his jaw hung open, his glasses sliding all over his nose as he sweats, his groans getting louder. A particularly hard bounce had Jake shouting for you.
“OH GOD, FUCK YES!” He gasps dramatically, his legs twitching excitedly.
“Feeling good, Jakey?” You ask smugly. He hates to admit it, but he's feeling so fucking good. He nods shyly, muttering a 'yeah'. You hum approvingly but stop your hips. He looks up at you confused, eyes begging you to keep going. "I wanna hear you say it, Angel," you whisper and kiss his lips gently, "need to make sure you're feeling good.”
He swallows thickly, the internal battle of not wanting to give in was one he was losing. He feels the nagging need to cum overriding any sense he has left, he wants you to keep going, he needs you to keep going.
"I'm feeling good... I'm feeling really good..." he whispers against your lips, seeking another kiss which you give him, your hips returning to the mind-numbing pace. "Fuck, baby, yes, please…”
A pleased smirk paints your lips at the pet name that rolls off his tongue like second nature, Jake’s too far gone to even notice what he's called you. You knew it was only a matter of time. The pleasure builds in the pit of your stomach as he gives himself to you, finally submitting to the role you knew he was meant for. He looks up at you, need written all over his face, and you just want to give him anything he asks for.
“You’re so good for me, Jake, always such a good boy,” you praise, your pace speeding up to ride him for all he’s worth, the bed frame slamming into the cabin wall forcefully, “Good Boys get what they want,” you hear Jake’s breath catch in his throat, his hips thrusting up into your cunt, forcing himself a little deeper each time, “what do you want, Jake, tell me.”
“Wanna cum! Please, need it, need to cum, m’ a good boy, wanna cum!” He babbles in a whiny voice, his words slurring together as his high gets dangerously close, his limbs beginning to tingle. He feels your breasts pressing into the hard muscle of his chest, your body so inviting, so intoxicating—he couldn’t get enough of it.
“Hold it, m’so close, jus’ a little bit more,” you whimper and begin to rub your clit in quick circles, your pussy tightening around him in a nearly painful grip, his toes curling with effort to hold himself back. Jake gazes up at you, his eyebrows pinched together, those baby blue eyes glassy with ecstasy, soft pillowy lips cherry red from being chewed on and slick with his spit as he drools slightly.
“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease,” he chants breathily, his begging pushes you over the edge, your walls close around him like a wet fist, holding him tightly as your orgasm tears through you. A strangled cry flies from his lips as you shake on top of him, your nails biting into the skin of his chest and shoulders, your pace faltering as you cum around him. Jake can’t help but follow you head first into his own high, his body shaking as his eyes roll in his head, his spine bowing off the mattress as he shoots his spend deep inside you. “H-Haaaaa-aaaaaah!”
You gasp when you feel his hot cum filling you up. You feel his cock twitching as he comes, the death grip he has on the leather straps finally beginning to loosen as he relaxes into the bed, his muscles starting to ache from being pulled tight for so long. You both catch your breaths, your head resting on his sweaty chest, Jake’s head naturally leans against yours as he listens to you breathe. A small content smile finding its way across his face.
Maybe he doesn’t hate it here as much as he thought.
Tag list: @boxofbonesfic @scorpioaes @tumblin-theworldaway @purple-babygirl @runawayolives @smokememories @hawsx3
#bonetastic bombastic 5k#jake jensen#jake jensen x dark!reader#jake jensen x soft dark!reader#jake jensen x reader#jake jensen x female reader#jake jensen x fem!reader#jake jensen smut#jake jensen angst#jake jensen fluff#chris evans fic#chris evans#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans smut#chris evans angst#chris evans fluff#chris evans x reader#little lion literature
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I Need You More Than Anyone
Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Female Omega Reader [First Person Narrator]
Word Count: 5.9K
Summary: It’s just supposed to be a regular Saturday night at the bar. When Steve comes to pick you up, like he normally does, things don’t exactly end up the way you expect.
Warnings: my own interpretation of A/B/O dynamics (no smut), cursing (like lots of bad language words), very mild angst, kissing, romantic fluff. Minors do not interact (18+).
A/N: Congratulations, Georgie (@bonkywobble), for getting 500 followers! You’re so amazing and such a great friend. This is the first challenge I’ve participated in, and it was so fun. I can’t wait to see what the other participants write. 💜 I’m not gonna lie, this one fought with me, but I like where it ended up.
I love feedback, so go ahead and like & reblog if you want. Do not copy, rewrite, translate or post my work anywhere. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work on this or any other website (I cross-post to my AO3 account).
Title from “Build Me Up Buttercup” by The Foundations
This is not Beta’d, so all mistakes are my own.
Enjoy!
Tagging some friends who have expressed interest in reading my fics: @slothspaghettiwrites @river-soul @kleohoneyao3
The ice clinks in the glass, the sound lost in the crowd’s chatter and the music playing overhead. Twiddling with the mini straw, I swirl the liquid, first clockwise then counter-clockwise, searching for entertainment that I know I won’t find.
Glancing around the room, I squint through the low lighting. It’s never bright enough in the bar—though perhaps that’s just my eyes.
Darcy stands against the wall, fiddling with a man’s sweater and smirking up at his dazed expression. Her eyes flick over to me, sending a quick wink and turning back to her beau for the night.
Mild envy simmers in my gut as I turn back to the bar, wishing I had her effervescence. She sparkles in any room and attracts people to her—alphas, betas, omegas. It’s quite the impressive sight.
Most Saturdays I find myself in her company, a nice dinner at one of our favorite restaurants and hours spent at the local watering hole, searching for a ‘good time’ and a chance at something new. Because both of us know what we’re looking for—I’m looking for the right partner, she’s looking for her partner right now.
It suits her, being in the proverbial spotlight and finding someone new, or not so new, to flirt with. She thrives in this environment.
Tonight, it’s Ian again—at least from what I can tell looking at the back of his head. I’m happy for her. They’re actually quite cute together and always seem to have fun.
On the other hand, I’ve never found anyone on these nights out—whether no one’s interested or I’m too much of a wallflower, it’s beyond my ken. But I don’t mind the atmosphere, the life and vitality thrumming through the bar. And I don’t hurt for company when Darcy wanders off, the staff welcoming and willing to look after me.
Staring at my drink, I smile to myself, shaking my head and casting a quick glance back over my shoulder to check on my friend. Though she never seems to need it.
I mean, she’s the omega that tased the knot-head captain of the debate team when he tried to corner me against the lockers in high school. ‘Omegas stick together’, she had said—and she’s stuck by me ever since.
Yeah, she can take care of herself just fine.
“Why do you come out at all?” a voice inquires. My eyes raise to the bartender, Loki, wiping at the bar top, brow quirked in question. “You don’t even like it.”
“It makes her happy,” I say with a shrug, sipping at my ginger ale. “Plus, I do like it. The company’s great when it’s not being so snarky.”
I quirk my brow at the man accusingly, rump shifting on the barstool, looking for a comfortable position after sitting for so long.
He hums in return, placing down his rag and crossing his arms. “I’ve called your alpha.”
I choke, the carbonation burning in my throat until my eyes water. “Loki!” I screech, banging my hand on the wood of the bar. “I don’t have an alpha.”
He sighs, rolling his eyes. “Fine, I called Steve, then.” I squawk, just as indignant, raising my finger to chew the alpha out for his glib statement, but he continues, “You’re obviously itching to leave and you know how Val is about omegas leaving the bar on their own.”
“I’m not even drinking,” I insist, gesturing to my glass of soda. “You’ve been serving me all night.”
“Yes, well. It’s Val,” Loki states, with a pointed look. “She intimidates me more than you.” He chuckles, green eyes shining in the low lights.
A scoff blows across my lips as I send a glare in his direction. “I hate you,” I pout, leaning back with my shoulders slumped.
“No you don’t, darling.” His smile spreads across his face, his forearms leaning on the counter.
“No, I don’t,” I admit, the words bitten out on petulant syllables. My hand runs over my face, a groan buzzing my lips. “You shouldn’t have called Steve, though. He’s in the middle of preparing for his latest exhibition. He gets so stressed, Loki. You shoulda called someone else.” My teeth worry over my lip, a wave of guilt washing over me.
The incredulous look Loki returns in my direction penetrates so deep I can sense the impending roll of his eyes. “Who would you suggest I call then?” he asks, sarcastically, gesturing at me for my answer with a sweep of his hand.
When no one comes to mind, I change the subject, asking, “Well, what about Darcy?”
“You know I always take care of her,” Loki reminds softly, shooting a fond glance over my shoulder in her direction. His brows knit together as he observes her for a lingering minute. “Though she seems to be finding some familiar company tonight.”
My head tilts, eying the alpha in sympathy. Before I can think of a way to reply, a warm hand lands on my shoulder.
The familiar weight distracts me, drawing my attention to the alpha behind me. Even in such a crowded bar, the notes of graphite and whiskey in his musky scent tickle my nose. I lean back, knowing he’ll support my weight, face scrunched in apology as I catch his eye.
“I’m sorry, Steve,” I groan pitifully, a pout sitting on my lower lip.
The lights of the bar illuminate his face, the room brightening slightly even as I wait for his remonstrance.
He just smiles, face full of understanding. “Sweetheart, you know you don’t need to apologize.” He turns to Loki with gratitude dripping from his scent. “Thanks for calling me, man.”
Loki nods, a knowing smirk on his lips. Catching the cheeky sparkle in his eyes, I lean forward again, landing my elbows on the bar, sticking my tongue out at the bartender in a childish gesture.
Steve’s hand moves to the back of my neck, gently squeezing at my nape. “Come on, omega,” he coaxes with an amused chuckle, “let’s get you home.”
My head immediately drops, eyelids fluttering, my whole skeleton turning into a pile of goo, for a second. My omega purrs with the quiet display of dominance, submitting easily. Steve releases me once my breathing calms to soft, deep inhales, the spark of my agitation effectively stifled. He grabs my purse, tucking it under his arm, hand finding the small of my back to guide me out.
“See you two next week,” Loki snipes playfully as we turn away.
And in seconds, that spark ignites once more, burning to life. With Steve’s hand on my back, I can’t turn back to make a final parting shot, but my lip contorts in an irritated snarl. Steve simply turns his head, shooting an unimpressed glance to our friend with a final wave and nudges me out of the bar.
The cool breeze greets us outside, the air crisp and fresh. Steve’s scent much more noticeable in the natural air. I sigh, drinking it in, and crane my neck to look at the stars. The vexation draining away as soon as the door closes behind us.
“Thanks for picking me up,” I murmur, head tilting to catch my friend’s gaze. “I’m sorry if you were working on art pieces for your newest show. I know how involved they can be.”
Steve waves a dismissive hand in the air, not even saying a word as his lips quirk in the corner. He gestures for me to walk.
“My truck is parked just down the road.”
I nod, acknowledging his remark, unmoving, basking in the night air. I can see the old blue truck less than ten feet away. But I’m not ready to jump into it quite yet.
“You okay?” he asks quietly, mild worry clinging to his words.
I hum, head bobbing as my eyes close for a brief moment. “It’s just so peaceful outside.”
He hums, a small sound of relief and acceptance, leaning his body against the façade of the building, waiting for me.
The quiet hush surrounds us, ambient noises of the night familiar—crickets, the hoot of an owl, the occasional crunch of gravel under tires, a muffled sound of music drifting on the breeze.
Steve breaks the tranquil moment, clearing his throat. My eyes loll in his direction, finding him under the fuzzy lamplight.
“How’s your week been?” he asks, starting up a conversation, checking in even though we text each other everyday.
Warmth encompasses me, despite the chilly air, a feeling of contentment radiating from within. A smalls smile pulls at my lips, happy with his thoughtfulness.
“Nothing that I haven’t already told you, really. Though Phil’s been a bit more stressed lately with the election coming up,” I admit, rubbing the built-up tension in my shoulders with one of my hands. “Not like he has any competition in our little town.”
“He’s treating you okay though, right?” Steve straightens in his spot as I step over to the wall and lean next to him.
“Yes,” I drone with a smile, rolling my eyes in faux exasperation. “He treats me the same as he always has. Part of me thinks he’s scared he’ll upset you if he doesn’t.” My hand covers my lips as snicker breaks through, Steve’s brow raising in surprise.
It’s no great secret that our mayor is quite proud to have such a prolific artist living in town. But if Steve knew to what extent Mayor Coulson idolized him, he’d be quite dumbfounded. To be fair, though, Steve seems to react that way when anyone recognizes or admires his talent.
“What’re you working on right now?” I ask, dying to hear about his newest pieces, chomping at the bit for details.
“Just a sculpture,” he replies cryptically.
My face drops into a scowl, lips pursed and blowing a raspberry in his direction. He laughs in response, eyes shining with mirth. I sigh, disgruntled.
In all the years we’ve known each other, Steve’s always kept his works in progress so hush-hush, locked away like they’re national secrets. It’s a wonder I survive the time between his shows—though he always brings me into his studio for my own personal preview, watching my reaction to seeing the beauty he creates for the first time. A quiet, private moment between the two of us, just for us. More often than not I end up in tears, left speechless and moved by his artistic expression.
I’ve suspected for years that he stays so secretive just to rile me up, to get that reaction from me.
He evades any further questions by asking, “Did you hear Bucky, Nat, and Sam are moving back to town?”
“Really?!” I shriek at the news, bouncing on my toes and turning my body toward his. A wide smile pulls at the corners of my lips, spreading them toward my ears. At Steve’s confirming nod, a noise of excitement bursts from my throat. “Bucky’s coming back!” Hands clapping in front of my chest, my body wiggles with delight.
My hands grasp Steve’s wrist, pulling him with me as I spin in circles and drag him along, needing to expel my new burst of energy. He breathes deeply, a soft smile twitching at the corner of his lips.
“My best friend is finally coming home,” I enthuse, swinging the alpha’s arm between us.
Steve scoffs indignantly, “Hey! I thought—”
“You are my best friend, Steve,” I assure sincerely. “But Bucky and I—we’re both omegas. I can talk to him about anything, you know?”
“You can always talk to me,” Steve insists, pulsing his grip on my arm until I look to him.
My wide smile shifts to something small and sweet, seeing the genuine affection in the alpha’s eyes. That warmth blossoms in my chest again, slow and tender.
“I know, Steve.” I wrap my arm around his, cuddling up to his side for a second before a train of thought sparks to life.
My hands gently shove him away as a gasp bursts past my lips. He steps aside at the force, though he’s strong enough that he does it solely for my own benefit. My tone drops slightly lower as we meander closer to Steve’s truck.
“Darcy’s gonna freak that Sam’s coming back,” I mutter, giddiness bubbling up my throat and bursting out of me in a short giggle.
“Why’s that?” Steve asks with a fond shake of his head.
“Well, we’ve just always had a crush on him,” I reply easily. My feet jump in front of his path, backing up with my eyes on him, arms swaying at my sides.
A deep, rolling growl, vibrates Steve’s chest for a moment before abruptly cutting off, choked down and silenced. A shock of dread shoots down my spine at the sound. My eyes dart over his face, scanning for signs of his sudden mood swing.
“Are you okay?” I ask , stopping his progress forward when he attempts to keep walking toward his truck, my palm flat against his chest.
He clears his throat, refusing to meet my gaze. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a crush on Sam.” He looks up through his lashes, sheepish and apologetic.
I hum, forgiveness bestowed easier than breathing, “Oh yeah, when he moved into town junior year of high school, all of us got a crush on him—me, Darcy, Bucky, Natasha, Sharon. Nat and Bucky are just the lucky ones who nabbed his heart by the time we all came home from college.” A goofy grin spreads my lips as I explain, feeling the need to justify the admission. “He’s just so charismatic, stands up for what’s right and protects the ones he loves, a genuinely great guy—who hasn’t fallen in love with him?”
Steve nods slowly, face drawn in contemplation. I retake my place at his side, continuing our short trek to his truck.
The alpha continues to stew in his thoughts, and I let him. Feeling no need to fill the empty air between us, and not smelling any cause for concern in his scent.
A thought strikes me just as my feet meet the curb, his keys jingling as he pulls them from his pocket.
“You know, you must get that all the time,” I comment glancing toward the alpha.
Steve turns to me, confused. His eyes looking lost in that adorable puppy dog way of his. My lips twitch toward a smile.
“You and Sam,” I clarify with a nod directed at him, “You’re practically the same person. So you must have hundreds—if not thousands—of people in love with you.”
Steve doesn’t comment, absorbing my assessment with a quiet hum. He reaches out for the door of his truck, hand grasping the handle. At the movement, reluctance surges forward within me. I stop him with a slight tug to the back of his leather jacket. He turns around, a questioning glance as his hand drops back to his side.
“Can we walk home?” I request, not ready to be cooped up or sitting again so soon after getting out of the bar. “I mean, we can walk to my place and I’ll lend you my keys to drive my car home.”
“It’s too cold, sweetheart. I don’t want you getting sick,” he rebukes, pulling me closer toward the car.
I dig my heels in, tempted to stomp my foot. Though, Steve’s a stubborn one and I’m no match for him. Instead, I change tactics, turning to him with my most pitiful pleading expression and begging, “Please, Steve? I’ll be fine, I promise.”
He stares at me, lips pressed in a frown. The muscles in his jaw twitch, clearly disapproving of my pleas. But the longer he remains silent, the more certain I am he’ll cave.
A minute passes, then two. He drops his chin, sighing in defeat.
“Alright,” he grumbles, shrugging off his jacket and shoving it into my arms. “But you gotta wear this.”
My lips part, ready to refuse, “But—”
“No buts,” he interrupts, crossing his arms and staring me down. My instincts buckle, my chin tilting slightly in submission, my omega whining in the back of my mind. “Either you wear that, or you get in the car. Your choice.”
I huff, wrapping the worn, warm leather around my shoulders. My nose briefly brushes the collar. It smells like him. I pull it tighter around my body, taking comfort in his familiar scent. Cocking my brow at Steve, I silently ask his approval. He smirks, stepping away from his truck and pocketing his keys.
“Come on,” he chuckles, jutting his chin in the direction of my apartment.
I follow, gait easy, feeling pleased and thoroughly entertained by our antics.
We walk a block in comfortable silence, passing the bakery, the bookstore, and an empty storefront with a tarp over the windows.
My arms swing by my sides until the jacket starts to slip off. Being as unobtrusive as possible, I weave my arms through the sleeves, another indulgent whiff of Steve’s scent wafting to my nose.
“Tell me,” Steve starts when we step back on the sidewalk after crossing the next street. “Why do you go to the bar with Darcy when you so rarely enjoy yourself?”
I bark a laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. When Steve looks over, I bite back further giggles, pressing my smiling lips shut.
“Loki asked the same question tonight,” I explain, amusement bright in my tone. “So, I guess I’ll give you the same answer.” My head tilts as I look over, wondering at his curiosity. “It makes Darcy happy. And I do like it. Sometimes it just gets to be a bit too much.”
He hums quietly in response, tucking his hands in his pockets and sagely nodding his head.
“That’s not the only reason, is it?” he coaxes knowingly, prodding me with his elbow.
My cheeks puff with an air of indignation, but we both know he’s right. He won’t push me to tell him the real reason—he never does. But he’s curious and, if there’s anyone I can vent to, it’s Steve.
I kick out on the next step, watching my foot propel a rock down the sidewalk. “I,” the word fizzles out, but I gather my confidence and continue along this unintended path of vulnerability, “I also go because I’m always hoping that my someone will finally find me there.”
Steve’s steps slow, his head cocking to the side, giving me his full attention. “What do you mean?” he asks, a crease forming between his brows.
My hands knead together in front of my abdomen, nerves jittering under my skin. But it’s Steve. So, there’s nothing to fear, right?
“I just,” I pause, swallowing my bubbling anxiety, “I just always hope I’ll meet my true mate, you know? That they’ll notice me at the bar and we’ll be able to connect.”
My shoulders shrug nonchalantly while my anxiety turns into a stiff tension. Waiting for Steve’s reaction is like waiting for the guillotine blade to drop.
I pull his jacket tighter around me, hoping to block out the nerves that prick at the back of my mind, and it helps. The scent calming the sharpness as I watch expressions flit across his features, too fast to identify.
When his brows raise and his lips part, I hold up my hand, cutting him off before he can start and saving myself from his judgement at the last minute—unprepared to hear his criticism.
“And I know ‘True Mates’,” I say using air quotes, “are some bullshit trope propagated by Hollywood.” I avert my gaze, focusing on the pavement at my feet, scowling at it like it’s personally insulted my mother. “But I believe that everyone has at least one person—their person, the mate that they’re destined to find.” My toes scuff the concrete, dragging my legs like I’m slogging through mud. “If true mates exist, I’ll never find mine if I never put myself out there,” I pronounce, repeating the words like a mantra.
A familiar hopelessness begins to well in my stomach, the doubt that I’ll never find my mate, but I shake my head, swiftly shoving it down and burying it deep. Part of me praying that the acrid dejection doesn’t soak into my scent for Steve to detect.
His mouth closes, his head canting in the other direction as he mulls my statement over in his mind. “Yeah, I guess I believe that, too,” he concedes quietly.
My head perks up at his agreement, not realizing that he would share my sentiments.
“Really?” I ask, flabbergasted, brows inching toward my hairline.
“Really,” he agrees with a huff of laughter. “What? Is it so hard to believe that an artist can be a romantic, too?” A teasing spark lights his eyes.
A sheepish smile flashes across my lips. “No, I suppose not.”
We turn down a side street, walking away from the town’s main road and heading toward the more residential blocks. Steve glances over at me once, twice, thrice, before asking the question that spins the cogs working in his head.
“So, how would you know who your true mate is?” His hand reaches up to the back of his neck, rubbing over his nape as he asks. Curiosity laces his tone, mulled with a hint of something I can’t pinpoint.
The corner of my lip twitches up in a smile, suddenly aware of how charming he is. It’s absolutely ludicrous that he hasn’t found his mate yet—that betas and omegas don’t line up and down the street for a chance to catch his eye.
I delay my response for a minute, gathering my thoughts, compiling the sentiments that I’ve considered for years into a concise and somewhat coherent list—and dragging out Steve’s suspense just a little bit, to watch him wait.
“I’ll be honest,” I begin, rubbing the side of my face with my knuckles. “I’ve thought about this a lot, but I only sort of know what I want. Though I’ve certainly been through plenty of failed relationships to know what I don’t want.”
I peek toward his face, my teeth clacking together when I glimpse his eyes, focused in a way I’ve never seen. A small voice in the back of my head starts chanting don’t don’t don’t in a quiet whisper. The thought surprises me, stunning me into silence.
The alpha patiently waits another block for a continuation of my thought, breathing deeply and scenting the air for any reason relating to my hesitance.
My teeth gnaw at my cheek, even more nervous now, but I start spewing like a party girl with one too many drinks in her stomach.
“I just-I just want someone who fits,” I state firmly, decisively. Steve’s face scrunches in befuddlement, so I continue to explain, “I want—need—someone loving and kind, who gives me the dominance I crave, and cares for me. Someone I can care and provide for in return.” I breathe through my relief, feeling free and heard as I discuss this with someone who wants to listen. Excitement thrums through my veins, enthusiasm taking over as I gush. “But more than that, I want to be able to show them every part of me, love them with every part of me, and be a big, huge, weird dork, and still know that they love me—because of my idiosyncrasies, not in spite of them.”
By the end, I’m beaming, weightless and almost giddy from the confession. Observing Steve, I wait for his response with bated breath.
“So,” Steve ponders, his eyes shadowed away from the streetlights, shoulders stiff, “anyone come close to fitting your bill?”
“If they did, I wouldn’t be walking home with you, you big lug.” I playfully shove at his arm, his stride remaining unbroken. Not even a little sidestep. I huff a laugh, rolling my eyes and clicking my tongue. “What about you?”
“I’ve got my eye on somebody,” he replies, cryptic once again. He sniffs, avoiding my gaze as I seek his out.
“Really?” The syllables elongate on my tongue, skepticism clear in my voice. “Cause I never see you with anyone,” I accuse, scowling at the alpha. “Have you even tried courting them?”
“Not recently,” he admits, bitten syllables softened by a reserved regret. “I used to try, but I wasn’t sure if she reciprocated my feelings. So, now, I just let it be. If we’re meant to be together, we’ll find a way. And if not?” His shoulders slump, releasing their tension. “Then I can live with that.”
“That’s kinda beautiful, Steve,” I muse, tone sympathetic and sullen, “but also really fuckin’ sad.”
“I know,” he concedes, nodding his head, forlorn.
“Who is she? Do I know her? What’s her designation?” The questions bubble out of me, an unshakable urge to know everything about this mystery woman whose existence had been inconsequential to me until this moment. Needing to remedy Steve’s state, heart breaking for him.
He sighs, a piteous, aggrieved sound rumbling in his chest. “I’m not telling you, sweetheart.”
“Why not?” I demand, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning toward him with a disappointed frown.
“Cause you would,” he pauses for a second, face pinching at the thought that flashes across his mind, before beginning again, “cause you would pressure her to be with me and I don’t want that.”
I scoff, flinging my arms open in a gesture of incredulity, “So you’d rather be alone?”
“I’d rather she be happy,” he replies quietly.
My mouth snaps shut, a pang shooting through my heart, the muscle clenching in my chest. My shoulder slump with my limp arms, feeling my ribs collapse in on themselves with the weight of his statement.
Silence descends over us, our steps crunching on the sidewalk as my apartment building comes into view. My brow furrows, seeing my friend’s pain for the first time, that quiet anguish that hangs around his shoulders.
My lips part on a softer question, glimpsing him in my periphery and swallowing down the lump in my throat. “Does she smell like home?” I ask, voice cracking over the words. My lips try to spread into a smile, but it’s shaky and slips away easily. “One whiff and you’re weak in the knees?”
“Yeah,” he affirms, gazing up at the moon hanging in the sky. His eyes go hazy, getting lost in his thoughts.
This woman must really be amazing, leaving him starry-eyed and devoted, even when his love may be unrequited.
A strange jealousy seeps through my body, my lips pursing in discomfort at the feeling. It lingers even when I try to clear it away from my throat. Shaking my head and trying to lighten the mood, I whistle low, pulling his attention back to the conversation and away from the clouds.
“Her scent must really be something.” The comment rolls off my tongue easily as I step to the side and shove my hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, clutching at the lining like it’s my saving grace, palms sweating.
My omega whines in the back of my mind for escape, for distance, for this unusual pain to disappear, for comfort. Steve doesn’t respond, still caught up in his own head.
“I’ve never met anyone who smells better than you,” I remark in the quiet moment, not expecting Steve to pay attention to my rambling. And it keeps spilling out, “But I’m not convinced scent is everything. The quiet matters more to me.”
“The quiet,” Steve repeats, dubious and still slightly distracted.
“Yeah,” I confirm, nodding my head slowly. “You know how my mind works, a thousand miles per hour, nonstop.” A small, self-deprecating smile tilts my lips. “But finding someone that can just make me feel safe and content, settled?” I lean forward, knees bending weakly as I let myself collapse inward a little over my statement while keeping my stride. “That’s the dream,” I admit blithely, “I’ve only ever felt that way around you.”
Steve’s brow raises at the statement, remaining silent. The conversation between us lulls once more, but the usual calm does not follow. Instead, I’m combating a small stab of anxiety that shoots through me like a bullet.
Our discussion plays through my mind again and again, quietly dissecting my admissions about my perfect mate. Something niggling in the back of my mind, a thorn in my side.
The cause of discomfort strikes like lightning, shocking me down to my toes and leaving me stunned in its wake.
My vision goes a little cloudy with the sharp realization. Stopping mid-step, I squeeze my eyes shut, mind racing, trying to make sense of the thought that has left me reeling. My heart flutters in my chest at the possibility. Affectionate warmth pools in my belly, something so much stronger than anything I’ve ever felt for anyone.
And then all at once, an overwhelming feeling of peace settles around me.
I’m in love with Steve Rogers.
An ecstatic disbelieving huff of laughter blows past my lips, joyous tears welling in my eyes. It makes sense. God, I’m an idiot.
Eyes fluttering open, they dart to Steve, halted a few paces ahead of me. His shoulders tense, sensing my omega’s initial unease on the air. His jaw twitches, muscles locked and waiting to pounce on the problem.
And I’m dunked in a pool of ice cold reality.
“Shit!” I exclaim at the ground, face falling, emotions surging through me like a tidal wave. “Motherfucking, goddamnit.” My hand runs over my hair, sinking into the tresses with distress. And the curses keep flowing past my lips, the only thing that feels under my control as the world falls away from under my feet. “Holy Mary, mother of—fuckin’ hell.”
This is not happening with my best friend—this can’t happen. Steve is Steve. Even if he’s my perfect match, the one person in the world who actually makes me feel loved and appreciated, who I care so deeply for it aches. He doesn’t feel the same. He just told me he has his eyes on someone else. God, I’m an idiot.
As my mind spirals down a path of panic, I hear Steve’s voice trying to calm me down. Trying to catch my attention, ask what’s wrong. It doesn’t work, I’m too lost.
And then my back slams into the brick wall of my building, Steve pinning me and blocking away any other stimulation from our environment. He breathes heavily, his chest expanding until it presses against mine. Hackles raised, he stares into my eyes, a flash of panic in his irises.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he pleads, his hands cradling my head to turn my gaze toward his.
My pulse jumps at his touch, my eyes widening at the proximity. “Fuck,” I whisper, face crumpling in anguish. But Steve shakes me softly, jarring my attention back to him.
“Tell me. what’s. wrong,” he demands, voice dropping to a pitch near his alpha tone.
My breath hitches, knees turning to jelly as I blurt, “I’m in love with you.” My hand smacks over my lips, a second too late to stop the words from spewing from my lips.
Steve steps back, eyes squinting and head tilting as he scans over my face. His brows sit low over his eyes, draw together with his scrutiny.
My hands clutch at the rough bricks, trying to grab onto anything to keep me standing. Words bubble in my throat, sputtering excuses that trip over my tongue in blubbering syllables as I try to excuse my confessed sentiment.
“I’m so sorry, Steve, I didn’t realize—I never thought—you don’t—”
Steve steps suddenly closer again, caging me against the wall, quietly shushing me with a delicate brush of his thumb over my lips. His forehead presses to mine, his eyes closing softly. A sweet smile stretches his lips, parting slightly on a amazed exhale.
“You love me,” he whispers, almost to himself, his scent filling with something so lush and heady, my head starts to spin.
“I-I love you,” I confirm, dragging a shaky breath into my lungs.
A spark of hope blooms in my chest the longer he holds me. So close, so affectionate, so tender, his scent filled with joy and relief. When his eyes open, the blue shining and steadfast, I feel weak, my skin pebbling with goosebumps and a shiver dancing down my spine.
His right hand cradles my neck, knuckles pressing into my scent gland until my knees wobble and my breath catches in my lungs. His other cups my cheek guiding my head closer. So close that as he speaks, his lips brush mine.
“Please let me kiss you, sweetheart.”
My head bobs once and that’s all it takes.
He kisses me softly. It’s sweet, the way his lips glide over mine, almost hesitant, chaste—treating me like a beautiful, fragile treasure.
He breaks away for a moment, lips parting on a question, “Are you sure—”
But my hands grip at his flannel shirt, pulling him back toward me, aching for another taste of him. He obliges happily, lips slanting over mine, deepening the kiss with passionate need.
His left arm wraps around my waist, fingers splaying on my back and gripping onto me like a lifeline. His tongue swipes over my lower lip, licking into my mouth and swallowing the tiny mewls of pleasure that echo in my throat.
As our lungs scream for oxygen, he pulls away, his forehead resting against mine, his eyes still firmly closed.
“God, if I’m dreaming, don’t wake me up,” he begs, words dripping with desperation, voice hoarse. The fingers of his right hand wrap gently around my neck, thumb caressing my jaw.
We stand in silence for a long, lingering moment, catching our breath and basking in each other’s scent, hanging thick in the air around us.
My fingers reach up, brushing a strand of his long hair away from his forehead, mind quite blank and thoughts peacefully still.
Steve revels in the delicate touch, his long lashes brushing his cheeks.
As he opens his brilliant, blue eyes, he snatches my retreating hand, pressing his lips to my palm and running his nose over my wrist.
“I have loved you for so long,” he confesses, quietly, fervently.
Our eyes lock, his gaze burning with earnest adoration. I swallow thickly, a jolt of pain lancing at my heart.
“I’m sorry I made you wait.” My chin drops in shame, thoughts stirring to berate myself over the years of wasted time.
“Hey.” He calls my name softly, fingers pulsing loosely around my neck. “Don’t apologize. Please. I have never regretted an instant of loving you.”
Meeting his gaze again, tears well in my eyes. My arms wrap around his waist, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I breathe deeply, drinking in his soothing scent and leaning on his muscles for support.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he says, his hand rubbing at my back in a calming gesture. “Let’s get you inside, all nice and warm in your apartment.”
I nod into his neck, drawing away and letting my fingers raise to absentmindedly scratch through the beard on his cheeks. “Will you stay with me?”
A happy, contented sound rumbles in his chest, smile brighter than the moon.
“Always.”
#BonkysHalfwayTo1K#challenge fic#a/b/o au#nomad steve#steve rogers x reader#idiots in love#reader insert#steve rogers#steve rogers fanfiction#pining#small town au#fluff#mild angst#my writing#my fanfiction
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are you taking requests ? if you are could you write something about y/n’s dad being a musician who’s helping harry write his album and he wants to take y/n on a date but she has a rule about not going out with musicians, you can choose the ending or change whatever you want !
music in me. | harry styles.
summary: Harry and Y/N are both pining for each other but don't know how to tell the other.
pairing: harry styles x fem!reader
wc: 2.9k
warning(s): fluff <3
a/n: heyyy! to the anon who requested this, i hope you like it! i wasn't planning on doing requests but this was a cute concept and i couldn't help but write it. i tweaked it a bit but it's still the same concept. hope everyone likes it too! reblog (!!) and comment if you do, here's my ko-fi! all my love <3
—
He’s the only one in the room, sitting on the piano bench with his lyric journal out. Lyrics to a song are written messily on the pages with annotations. Piano notes scribbled along the lines, some are crossed out because he didn’t think it sounded right.
While everyone else were out for a break, Harry insisted on staying in the studio to try and finish a song, telling them he’s okay as long as they get him some black coffee or a snack. He quite enjoys the quietness of it and it helps him focus. Well, most of the time.
Sometimes, a pretty girl would pass by and Harry would get distracted by said girl. He’s known her for a while now, having to be the daughter of one of the producers he was working with.
When he met her for the first time, Harry swore that he was entranced by her beauty and sweetness that she exuded before him. She had a voice as sweet as honey and a lot of kindness to share around the room. She stops by the studio once in a while to help out her father, most times she’d come in bringing homemade sandwiches and some pastries from a nearby bakery. Harry once kept telling her how he was a cashier at a bakery one time and she laughed as she told him she knew. Besides, no one forgets that the Harry Styles worked at a bakery.
Harry very much likes her; he guesses that he might have developed a small crush on her. She’s stayed a couple of times with him in the studio and even gave him some of her thoughts which he never knew meant a lot to him. He enjoys her company and finds it lovely to have formed a friendship with her. The fact that he was working with her father didn’t really phase them. They were good friends.
Yeah, good friends.
Except he wishes he wasn’t afraid to ask for more.
He’s playing around with the keys, eyes closed as he envisions what the song would best sound like. Occasionally, he’d cringe if he hits the wrong key or the order was just off. He’s so into working on the piano that he doesn’t realise a familiar face walking into the room.
Y/N smiles at the picture laid out in front of her. She’s carrying a drink carrier with both her drink and Harry’s; she might have heard that he would be in here. She almost doesn’t want to disturb him as he seems so tranquil in his own world, creating art for the whole world to hear.
She contemplates on calling his name by doesn’t as he snaps out of his world and sees her. “Oh! Hi!” He smiles at the sight of her. She returns the smile and walks over to him by the piano.
“Hey. Got you some things. Thought you might be hungry so I got food too,” she lifts the bag and drinks in front of him and sets it on top of the piano. He thanks her and takes his cup, his name clearly written in black sharpie on it. He blows the steam of his coffee as she takes out the food she got for them, some seafood pasta. Something in him seems to lighten up when he sees this, knowing he had mentioned to her once about his pestacarian diet. So, it warms his heart that she would get something he’s able to eat.
“Have to be honest, I was actually getting a bit hungry just sitting here, waiting for the others.” He chuckles as he takes the packed container and reaches for the wooden utensils she brought. “Well, why didn’t you just go with them?” She asks as she twists her fork onto the pasta.
He shrugs at this. “Just thought I’d work on this. Besides, you got me food now and I didn’t even ask,” he teases her. Both of them laugh as she nudges his shoulder.
The two of them settle on their meals, making small talk in between bites. Harry almost feels a bit shy having to sit alone in the studio next to a pretty girl he’s been crushing. It’s not like he doesn’t want to tell her. He’s gotten the hint that she might like him too. From the way her eyes are always focused on him whenever he has to say something to the remembrance of the little things he mentioned to her. She looks at him the way he thinks he looks at her, full of awe and adoration.
He so desperately wants to take her out, but a lot of things might get in the way of that. The big elephant in the room is her father. He doesn’t want people to think he only likes her because Harry is working with her father and he certainly doesn’t want him to think that way either. And he knows how mean people can be sometimes.
But Harry doesn’t care all that much about what people would say. He’d protect her with everything in him. Question is whether she would want to do this with him too.
“How’s the song coming along?” She nods towards the book in front of him as she swallows her food. He stares at her for a second, admiring how lovely she looks today before averting his gaze. “It’s alright, I guess. Just figuring out the keys and all. Might not even make the album with how it’s sounding.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal.
She stifles a laugh as she studies the messy annotations on this page. “Oh no. Doesn’t sound good enough for the next amazing Harry Styles album?” She jokes, nudging his shoulder again. He laughs at this, his cheeks warming up at the compliment.
“Well, some songs don’t end up in the album anyway. This is probably for fun.” He tells her as he sips on his coffee. She nods at him and gestures to the book again. “May I?”
He nods and gives her his book without a question. He trusts her and her judgement enough and really cares about her opinion on whether a song is good. Her eyes skim over the words written on the pages and she even turns to the other pages to what else he’s written down.
“These songs are amazing, Harry.” She tells him, smiling as she reads the lyrics. Harry blushes at the compliment. He’s had many people compliment his songwriting, from his mother to his band to the fans he meets; but there is something about knowing it’s good in her eyes that makes him feel proud of his songwriting abilities.
Maybe it’s because he’s whipped for her. It’s a good thing she won’t know that most of the songs he’s written for this album were inspired by her; that’d save him from a bit of embarrassment.
“Thank you, darlin’,” he says, taking back the book and setting it on the piano.
“So, which one is about me?”
“What?” His eyes are suddenly wide open as he looks at her with a panicked expression.
She stares at him for a minute before giggling. “I’m kidding! Gosh, should’ve seen the look on your face. That was gold,” she stifles in her laughter at him. He huffs, rolling his eyes at her as his cheeks are flaming up.
“Yeah, yeah, you got me, you little minx,” he says as he pokes on his side, making her squeal at the ticklish feeling.
The laughter in the room simmers down into comfortable silence. Harry looks over at her, his eyes running over her features, studying her. She seems to sense this because she looks up at him. They stare at each other in silence until she smiles at him, leaning in to rest her head on his shoulder.
“Play something for me?” She mumbles. He grins and lays his head on top of hers. His fingers lay on the keys and he starts to play a familiar tune from one of his songs from his last album. The two sit together, listening to the sounds of the piano filling the room.
When the rest of the team comes back, Y/N’s father is looking around for her. He knew she somehow stayed behind to keep Harry some company. He doesn’t think too much of it; he’s seen the way they both interacted and he was more than glad they got along. Maybe a little too much.
He somehow could sense a mutual liking between the two. It was sweet to be fair. It was like seeing his little girl talking to a guy she likes in school all over again. He’s not one to be a strict parent; all he wants is to look after her. There were too many guys in the industry who’d try to take advantage of her because of him, which is why he would always get cautious of them.
But he sees the way Harry and Y/N look at each other like they’re the only ones in the room. For a moment, he begins to think that maybe this is the guy for her. Someone who genuinely likes her and would sometimes go out of his way to spend time with her, even if it wasn’t work-related. Harry is generally a respectable man, but it truly warms his heart to see the way he treats Y/N the way he knows she deserves to be treated.
Then, he stumbles upon the two in the same studio room Harry said he would be. He sees the two sitting close to each other as Harry plays the piano. Occasionally, they would both giggle at each other for reasons he’s sure it’s something between just them. He stands by the door for a while as he watches them, a smile graces on his face. He sees the smiles and happiness radiating on their faces.
And he thinks to himself that maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
As the session for the day ends, Harry and everyone else are ready to pack it up and go home. As he puts his water bottle and journal into his tote bag, he steals a few glances at Y/N in which she returns, leaving both of their faces flushing in warmth. He approaches her nervously while she plays around with her fingers.
“Um,” he starts. “Thanks for today.” She chuckles at his words and shakes her head.
“I didn’t really do anything, but you’re welcome,” she jokes. They both let out a laugh.
“Well, uh, take care,” he says and she gives him a small smile. She was hoping he’d say more but she doesn’t push it. “You too,” she points out.
He nods as he slowly walks backwards to the door. He stops in his tracks for a moment before opening his mouth again. “I, uh,” he begins again and she waits for his next words nervously. “I’ll see you in the next session, yeah?”
Her heart deflates a bit but she hides her tiny disappointment with a smile. “Definitely, Harry.”
They awkwardly bid each other goodbye before parting their ways. Unbeknownst to them, her father watched the whole scene and he shakes his head at the silly adults.
He calls for Y/N and tells her to sit with him for a minute. “Yeah, dad?” She questions him as she sits on the couch. “Want to tell me why you and Styles look like nervous teenagers, wishing the other would ask them on a date?”
Y/N is shocked to say the least as she stumbles on her words and tries to pretend she doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He chuckles at his daughter’s act. “Think you should put him out of his misery and let him ask you out. Or better yet, you should ask him out.”
“But dad, what about you?”
He cocks an eyebrow at her question. “What about me, sweetie?”
She chews on her bottom lip gently before speaking. “It’s just, I know he has a lot of respect for you and he doesn’t want to make things weird if anything did happen between us. Plus, what if he’s like those other guys that try to kiss up to you through me? I really like him, dad.” She mumbles out the last part under her breath. Her father sees the slight dilemma his daughter has and shakes his head at her, smiling.
He lifts her chin up so she could look at you. “I know he’s not one of those guys. While the rest of those boys can try and fool me, he’s a man with a lot of heart and respect towards others. And I can tell you that he really likes you too. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. Don’t think you guys are so slick with that.”
Y/N giggles at her father’s words. “Thanks, dad,” she tells him, kissing his hand and holding it tightly. It somehow reminds him of the first time her tiny baby hands tried to hold his hand. It makes him choke up, knowing his little girl isn’t so little anymore.
But if it’s Harry who’d be the man that’ll make her happy, then he’s completely fine with that.
He kisses her head lovingly and pats her shoulder. “Now, you better go after him before you come home sulking because you didn’t catch him. I’ll go wait in the car for you,” he suggests. Y/N’s face beams with joy as she stands and runs out of the room.
The sun is setting by the time she reaches the front door of the studio building. She looks around to see if Harry has left yet. She doesn’t see him and she starts to frown at this. She’s about to sulk on her way to her father before she hears a familiar deep voice calling her name.
“Y/N?” She turns around and grins as she sees Harry walking over to her.
“Hey! You’re still here,” she beams at him. Harry smiles at her, noting how adorable she looks. “Yeah, had a chat with Mitch and Sarah before they left.” He points behind him for her to see their car driving past them, honking at them as if to say goodbye.
“Anyways, you alright? Saw you ran out here,” he asks concerned. It truly makes her heart flutter knowing how much he even cares. Not to mention, he’s a very handsome and beautiful young man, especially under the golden hour lighting they’re getting.
“Yeah, I wanted to ask you something,” she tells him. She’s playing with her fingers, something she does when she’s nervous. He hums in response.
“Would you wanna go on a date with me?” She rushes out her words.
But Harry hears her clear enough. He’s surprised at first. He always thought he’d ask her out but she beat him to it. He lets it sink in; the fact that the girl he really likes, likes him back and wants to go on a date with him.
A smile breaks out onto his face and he nods. “Yeah, yeah, I’d love to!” He exclaims.
Y/N lets out a breath of relief as she hears this. “Really?”
“Really! I really like you, Y/N. Been meaning to ask you out but I guess you beat me to it,” he chuckles as he steps closer to her. His hands reach out to grab her hands and she lets him, liking the warmth he gives.
“I really like you too,” she smiles at him. He grins as his eyes run over her face, loving how pretty she looks with the sunlight hitting her complexion.
She’s not sure whether it’s too soon to kiss him but he slowly leans in, as if he’s waiting to see if she’ll reject him. But she doesn’t and immediately leans into him, letting lips finally touch.
She feels him smile into the kiss, their lips move in sync. She breathes in his scent of cologne he wears through her nose and tastes the sweetness of his lips. The feeling they both get is almost overriding their senses and all they can think of is each other.
They break away as they catch their breath. Harry sneakily leans in again to steal a peck which makes her giggle. They’re smiling so hard that their cheeks are starting to hurt.
“That was nice,” he grins at her. She nods as she looks at him with dazed eyes.
“I should probably head back now,” she points out behind her. Harry nods understandingly. “I’ll call you later, alright? Let me know when you and your dad get home safe,” he says, his thumb stroking over her knuckles gently.
She nods in agreement. “Goodnight, Harry,” she bids him.
“Goodnight, darling,” he gently says back.
They don’t move apart from each other until Harry leans in again. “One more kiss,” he mumbles as his lips press against hers. She doesn’t object as she moans lightly at the feeling of his lips again. They break away, giggling as they bid each other goodnight again.
As soon as they part away, Y/N waits until she sees him getting in his car before squealing in delight as she skips back to her car. While this happens, Harry is shouting in his car, letting it sink in that he finally has the girl who inspired most of the songs he wrote for his new album.
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#harry styles fluff#harry styles oneshot#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfiction#parkersroses writing
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Summary: You try convince Walter to love your favorite snack throughout your years together. The best dates are shared over cereal, after all.
Pairing: Walter Marshall x Female Reader
Word Count: 4.5k
Warnings: sugary sweet fluff, implied smut — nothing graphic, snarkiness, grumpy Walter to fluffy Walter, cursing, cuteness overload.
Author's Note: I let myself get carried away with this one. I needed grumpy but sweet Walter in my life. I hope you enjoy!
Edited by myself, sorry not sorry for the errors.
Taglist: @justaboringadult @greensleeves888 @cavillsharman @beck07990 @summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @kebabgirl67
Taglist for this fic: @lumiousmoon
*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or claiming any ideas or parts as your own.
Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed!
It started when you and Walter were early dating.
💋
“Mmmm, pause. I need a snack.” Uncurling yourself from Walter’s warm body on the couch, you made your way to the kitchen to find something to cure your hunger. You called behind you, “Want anything, Marsh?”
“Whatever you’re having... I’ll have the same.”
“Cereal it is!” You pulled the ceramic bowls from the cabinet and opened the fridge to grab the milk. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Walter’s face scrunch in confusion. “What?”
“Cereal? Absolutely not,” Walter scoffed. “Would you grab me those spicy crisps?”
“Spicy chips, coming right up.” Vernacular was the subject of an ongoing heated debate with the Brit: the great ‘Names for Snacks Debate’ was especially hostile.
Once settled back under the blanket and snuggled into his side once more, you unpaused the movie. The energy in the room shifted, you could sense that you were being watched, but you refused to look up to look at Walter’s face. The judgment coming from the bear of a man who crunched his chips beside you was glaring.
"Stop it," you told him as you kept your eyes on the movie.
Walter didn’t say a word. His eyes traveled back to the TV but kept finding their way back to you.
“Walt, what is it? Is there something on my face?” You giggled at him lightly, unsure of what was bothering him.
“You really chose that for a snack?” His face was bewildered as if you were eating a bowl of Jeep parts.
“What? Don’t tell me you don’t eat cereal as a snack.” He shook his head curtly, wearing a look of disgust. Your eyebrows crinkled together as you followed by asking, “Not even as a quick dinner?”
“Cereal is meant for one time and one place, and that’s sometimes in the mornings for breakfast. That's why they call it breakfast cereal, love. Not dinner cereal, not snack cereal... Do you also eat cereal for lunch?” He was poking fun at you now.
“No, I’m not a heathen, Walter. Here, try a bite, just trust me. It’s amazing as a movie snack.”
His eyes were wide as a grimace was sent in your direction, “You’re crazy — no one does that.”
“Plenty of people do that,” you stated matter-of-factly.
“I’m really not the biggest fan…” Walter sighed and settled further into the couch, preparing for your exasperation that he knew was soon to follow.
“WHAT. Not the biggest fan of cereal? I’m sorry, you were sheltered as a child, weren’t you? There's cereal out there for everyone, Walt. Come on, try it.” You scooped a spoonful of your sugary Cinnamon Toast Crunch and held it to him. He reluctantly obliged your wishes, eating the bite but keeping a look of pain on his face for the entire time he chewed.
"See? Delicious. Ice-cold, crunchy, sweet, perfect." A sugary grin accompanied your playful tone, and Walter shook his head again, exaggerating his distaste for having to chew such an atrocity.
"Mhm. Definitely delicious." Your goofy bear was simmering under the surface of his scouring demeanor, though he stuck his tongue out in mock disgust.
"You're not the biggest fan," you muttered under your breath and rolled your eyes for dramatic effect. "I'll show you."
💋
Standing in the grocery store, you and Walter were having a battle of wits, arguing on the subject of your sweet tooth.
“I’m just trying to show concern for your dental health since you obviously won’t; all that sugar isn’t good for you.” Walter stood stern with his arms crossed, unmoving and solid like a brick wall.
“I appreciate your worry, Dad, but I’m going to keep eating it because I love it. One day, I bet I’ll convince you and you’ll be eating it with me. Plus, my dental health is immaculate, my dentist said so.”
The expression on Walter's face was unwavering as his eyebrows raised in a non-verbal challenge to your declaration.
“I don’t know how you can stand to eat that crap,” he muttered, thinking you couldn’t hear him.
“Oh no, don’t you dare, you grump! I don’t get on you about your snacks, back off mine. ” Despite his unnecessary grouchiness, you placed a hand on his crossed arms and raised up on your toes to give him a soft kiss on his bearded face. “Balance, babe. It’s all about balance.” You dug your way through his arms to find his hands and you drug him a little further down the cereal aisle.
“Come on, grumbly, pick out a cereal you think you might enjoy, for experiment’s sake.”
💋
“Fuck, babe. I’m going to be late, we just got called out on another accident. I am so sorry… I’m not sure when I’ll be home.” Walter had been working a ton lately, and his irritation with just how much he’d been working was starting to show. The two of you had been together for a few months now and had started to grow accustomed to having the other around consistently. You both became out of sorts when you hadn’t seen each other in a while.
“Don’t even worry about it, Walter. Just be careful, please... You should still come over when you’re finished tonight, but no pressure if you’re exhausted.”
“Of course, still need to kiss you goodnight. I can’t sleep if I haven’t.”
Walter Marshall might be a grump, but that grump could make your heart flutter in ways that you’d never felt before. Maybe it was that his sweetness and his charms were completely reserved for you and you alone. His teddy bear nature only appeared when he was near you. After putting back the ingredients for dinner to save for another night, you went to change into your sweats.
Walter appeared at your front door at 12:30 that night, nearly asleep but still standing strong. You’d dozed off on the couch after his call, but were immediately energized again when you saw his beautiful form standing in your doorway.
“Hello, I’m here to have a very late night date with an incredibly beautiful woman,” Walter said, the gravel in his voice making you shiver. Despite his exhaustion, Walter managed to smile at you with one of the biggest smiles you’d ever seen him manage.
You smirked, waving him inside. “Get in here, Bear.”
Walter reached his arms out to you, inviting you into his embrace. Your arms wrapped around his thick torso and you ran your hands up and down his sweater-clad back; he melted into you and burrowed his face into your neck. Walter released an exhaustive exhale. It was heavy and forceful, as though he’d been holding it back behind a stone barricade for the entirety of his day. Warmth flooded your body as his words vibrated from his chest, “Mmm... I missed you.”
“I missed you, too. Let’s get you fed. Preferences?”
Still snuggled in your neck, he gave his reply, “Nothing heavy, please. I don’t want to fall asleep at the table. That wouldn’t make for a good date.”
“Oh Walter, we can postpone date night, you need to eat something and get to bed. It’s nearly one,” you observed gently as you leaned your head back to get a better look at his face.
“No. I came here to have a date night. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day. I need you.” Walter’s warm lips caressed your forehead, placing soft kisses on you. “You think you’re still up for it?”
Nodding at him sweetly, you untangled from his embrace and went to tumble through the fridge, offering out suggestions for food, but he insisted, yet again, that you don’t go to any trouble.
“Okay… you’re going to hate it, but my last option is cereal. Other than that, it’s gonna be random leftovers.” You continued moving containers around in the fridge, taking stock of what you had left from the week before.
“Actually, I think I can handle some cereal.” You whipped your head around incredulously to look and heckle him, but he gruffly interrupted, pointing a finger at you from where he sat at your kitchen table. "Don't. Don't start. It's been a brutal day, and something cold doesn't sound half bad."
You smirked in silence as you turned back and poured your bowls, dancing your hips lightly side to side. Grabbing the candles you had left out for your dinner date, you lit them and placed them gently on the table between the two of you. It was date night, after all.
“Late night cereal date, it is.” Reaching down to caress his chin, you kissed one bearded cheek before sitting beside him. Walter’s lips held a slight curl, softly smiling at your glee.
💋
“Love, snack break?”
The two of you were engaged in an intense game of Scrabble, one of your favorite date-night-in traditions. Nodding your head in Walter’s direction, you continued to study your letters and the board with pure focus until you heard the twinkling sound of cereal hitting ceramic.
Not wanting to draw too much attention, you peeked up from your letter rack to make sure your ears weren’t deceiving you. Walter was not just making a bowl for you, but he was also making one for himself.
No way.
Walter made his way back to the table with the cereal, and you looked up at him in shock as though you hadn’t already noticed what he’d done.
“What is this? What is this I see? Walter Marshall choosing breakfast cereal as a snack? Why, I just cannot believe it.” Mock-surprise overtook your form as you motioned fake mind-blowing explosions from your head. Walter rolled his eyes.
“I figured If I can learn to like you, I can learn to like cereal.”
“HEY.”
Walter shrugged, retaking his seat at the table.
You squinted your eyes at him as you declared, “You’re going down for that. And I don’t just mean by losing this game.” A wicked grin crossed your face when you played your double score word:
“CHEERIO”
💋
Walter worked a lot of graveyard shifts while you were dating and during your early years of marriage while you worked a normal 8-5. Sometimes the only moments that you could see each other were when he came home from his shift early in the mornings before you started your day or in the evenings when you got home before he left to start his.
One early morning during your engagement, Walt showed up unannounced after a hard few nights at the PD. He was worn down but happy to see you, smiling through his exhaustion. This was the longest you’d been apart in a while; you hadn't seen each other in 4 days. You kissed him, lips attacking his while his arms snaked around you and pulled you tightly to his body. He hadn’t even come into the house yet.
Pulling him inside, your hands reached up to hold his scruffy face as you placed a more gentle kiss on his lips. “Babe, have you had dinner? Let’s get you something to eat… what would you like?”
He unfastened his holster, dropping it on the table by the door. Sinking into a chair, Walter bent over to untie his boots as he answered, “Honestly, anything is fine, just some kind of food.”
“I can cook you something! Why don’t you let me —“
“Sweet, don’t go to any trouble. I just want to see you before you go to work.”
He looked at the table where you had just sat down to a bowl of cereal for a quick breakfast before he arrived and pointed lazily to it. “That, I’ll take some,” he said, sleep trying to overtake his form.
Slowly grinning at his statement, you mentioned, "Isn't this technically your dinner time?" Walter wasn’t amused as he tilted his head to look at you as you gasped playfully, “You do realize you're about to eat cereal for dinner, right, Marsh?" Too sleepy to give his verbal rebuttal, he glared at you, the corners of his lips turning up slightly, which was your signal to accept your victory and move on.
Smiling softly back at him, you made your way to pour him a big bowl and made him a cup of piping hot tea to accompany it. Watching his face as he ate, you observed the little creases and purple-gray rings that had formed around his deep ocean-blue eyes. His beard was unkempt and had grown past its normal length just in the few days you’d been apart; you could see this was a new level of exhaustion.
“Tough night?” You asked him, moving your chair closer to him.
He nodded. “Very.” The nights were becoming more strenuous recently. Ever since he had switched to the detective unit, work had been holding him hostage and was taking a toll more than he’d like to admit.
His hand reached over to squeeze the free one lying on your lap. “I’m happy to see you, love.” The hard lines on his face softened as he traced lazy circles on the back of your hand with his calloused thumb. You could see in his eyes that he meant it, that you were his safe space. Walter always was in protection mode, always on alert, even though you tried to keep him at ease when he was with you. He was only really ever at ease once he was home and you were safe in his arms.
The food began to rouse him from sleepiness, and as he gained alertness, Walter’s brow furrowed as he took notice of the cereal box sitting on the dining table. “This is the one we’re eating? I expected you to be eating more of one of those tooth-rotting cereals that you love so much.” He looked over at the box of Honey Bunches of Oats with curiosity and then back at you, lifting what you called his ‘detective eyebrow.’
“This is… surprisingly somewhat better for you? Or at least it acts like it is.”
“Oh come on, I’m not that bad. I only let you believe that I am. It is my breakfast time after all,” you winked at him knowingly.
“Good to know my words are finally starting to sink in. I mean, it’s not that much better for you,” he was reading the box now, “but at least it isn’t borderline fluorescent, like those artificial fruity ones you’re always eating.”
“You know, it’s almost like I expect the hate and just enact my deflection shield every time you walk in the door.” You started giggling, unable to keep a straight face as you threw your arms in front of your face as a shield to his words. “Don’t worry, Walt, my guilty pleasure cereal collection is well-stocked. And quit hating on my Fruity Pebbles.”
💋
Slowly over time, these seemingly random cereal dates became a large foundation for quality time. These dates became like snapshots, each one memorable in its own way.
When you two hadn’t seen each other in days, you caught up over a cold bowl of sugary sweetness. You, telling all the details of your days; him, quietly listening and trying his best to leave his nights behind.
From then on, all it took was knowing you could have a cereal date mixed in the chaos of everyday life. Anytime things got hard or heavy, it was time to have a cereal date. Anytime you had a fight: you both would pause and make a bowl of cereal, sitting across the table from each other so that you could speak your feelings. There weren’t many of the world’s problems, or your own, that couldn’t be solved over sugary cereal and cold milk.
💋
You’d dragged Walter to your shared bed as soon as he’d arrived home, having not seen him for more than a few minutes at a time for the past month. This current case of his was intense and ongoing, but he was finally finished. You knew he was defeated in energy, but you were ovulating and your hormones were raging. Your body craved his touch and the feel of his skin gliding upon your own.
The plan was to go to dinner for a romantic evening since it had been a long while since that had been possible, but as soon as he walked through the door, your feral sexuality washed over you and you jumped into his arms. You clung to him with your face in his neck, taking in his scent and the warmth of his strong arms holding you up. He clung to you just as tightly. There was no complaint from the bear, for he was more than happy to spend the evening spoiling his lover.
Cuddling in the afterglow of your countless orgasms, a storm raged outside as tree limbs slapped at your windows incessantly.
“Wow, it sounds awful out there. I know we were going out, but I think that point is moot now.” You glanced up at Walter, kissing his jaw. “Let’s just cook something easy instead.”
“That sounds great, and we can stay naked.” Walt’s eyebrows danced flirtatiously as he grinned down at you, his hands caressing your warm skin. “I’ll go hunt around so I can keep my woman energized for the night ahead. We are nowhere near done.”
He’d only been gone a minute when a crack of thunder shook the house and the lights went dark. You heard his mumbling coming from the kitchen; he had called in to get a status update from the energy company.
Walking back into the bedroom, Walter, in his naked glory, walked over to where you laid, illuminated only by the candle he held in his hand. Wow, your husband was delicious.
"Power’s out for the whole city. It’ll take hours since this storm doesn’t have an end in sight. Looks like a hot dinner is off the table… and no one will deliver in this weather. I guess we know what’s for dinner." Setting the candle on the nightstand, he crawled back into bed.
Feeling seductive, despite being completely spent from your ravenous love-making mere minutes beforehand, you still hadn’t had your fill of your husband. You bit your lip as you ran your eyes up and down his exquisite body and cheekily replied, “Me, I hope.”
He chuckled lowly, the fangs in his pearly-white smile glinting at you in the candlelight. “You? Yes. I plan to feast on you all night long, kitten. But you’re going to need some sustenance first.” He was hovering over you. You couldn’t help yourself as you reached to run your fingers along his hairy chest and wrapped a leg around his hip, pulling him closer to you.
"Make it a cereal date?" You grinned at him.
“You read my mind.”
💋
“Our child is going to come out looking like the Lucky Charms Leprechaun if you don’t change it up some, love.”
Your cravings were intense. You’d heard several different views from your girlfriends and sisters: some craved random things they never even liked before, and some craved more of the things that they already loved and ate religiously before pregnancy. You fell into the latter. Cereal was your most sought-after snack: a big surprise to no one.
There weren’t many cliche late-night ice cream runs, but there were plenty of cereal and milk runs. Walter was a dutiful dad already, not lecturing you too often on what you wanted; he knew you were doing what you had to for the baby, and you ate healthily enough… aside from the copious amounts of junk cereal.
True to numerous other times in your life, date nights were hard to come by, even still. Sometimes the only dates you and Walter would get were in the wee hours of the morning when you’d wake up with a craving.
Walter was extremely doting, and even though he’d always been a caretaker, he really came into his own when you both learned you were to become parents. He’d crawl from the bed without a word, rummaging in the kitchen to bring you a bowl of your favorite and even bringing a small one for himself. You two would snuggle in the bed and talk. Talk about your baby, about future babies, about the future, about your dreams, all of it. You never knew when you met the grumpy bear that he would become this sweet of a man, always tender with you even when he was rough. Maybe it was the cereal sugar that had sweetened him up, at least you’d like to think so.
💋
Your daughter had been in the world for a little over three weeks, and neither you nor Walter had gotten much sleep since her arrival.
Walter finally got her down to sleep while you watched from the nursery doorway. You hadn’t had a meal together or slept at the same time for more than 10 minutes in weeks.
He was standing over her crib, resting his arms on the side as he watched her sleep. He was infatuated with this tiny human who had completely taken hold of his heart.
“Honey, join me for a date?” Your smile was tired, and as your bear’s exhausted eyes met yours, you wondered if you two shouldn’t just go to bed, but you missed him. You’d barely gotten the chance to praise him for how good of a daddy he was to your little girl.
“Mhm, gladly. Our usual?” He quietly followed you to the living room, where the coffee table had already been set up with the works. Craving the feel of his touch on your skin, you both sat on the couch and you laid your legs across his lap while you enjoyed the serenity of each other’s company.
💋
A chill glided across your skin as you awoke from a dream. You rolled over, reaching your arms out to find your sturdy man, searching for his warmth. Instead, you found cold bedsheets.
Unlike Walter to not be in bed with a furry arm draped over you, you pulled on your robe and went to find him, a slight worry filling your mind.
Surely he would have woken me if he’d had to go in?
As you stepped into the hallway, you heard hushed giggles and whispers coming from the kitchen. You stopped to poke your head into your kids’ rooms. Their beds were empty.
At least it’s Saturday.
Quietly pitter-pattering to your kitchen, you peered your head around the corner to find one of the sweetest sights your eyes had ever seen: your two babes, 8 and 5, were playing a princess board game at the table with your Bear. Cereal by their side, giggles ensued as the sugar hit their systems and they tried their best to keep quiet.
Walter’s deep whisper quietly filled the space. “Shh, girls. We can’t wake Mum, she needs her rest.”
“Can I have more Cap’n Crunch, Daddy?” Your youngest had an insatiable sweet tooth, just like her mama. She was quietly bouncing in her chair and smiling a toothy grin at her daddy.
“You’re just like your mum,” Walter beamed at her, obliging her wishes. “Just a little more, love, then we need to brush our teeth and get back to sleep.”
Not wanting the girls to know that you knew about their secret, you decided to make your way back to bed, but not before catching your husband’s eye as he winked at you and a grin radiated from his face.
Warm tingles filled your body as you silently thanked the universe for Walter and the life that the two of you had built together. Walter was the best dad and husband in the world. How had you gotten so lucky?
💋
“Cinnamon Toast Crunch or Golden Grahams, love?” Walter called to you from the kitchen.
The movie was selected, the kids were away for the evening sleeping at friend’s houses, and you and Walter were having a much-deserved night in.
You called back to him, “I’m thinking I’m going to skip the cereal? I’m not really feeling it tonight. I will, however, eat the spicy chips. Oh, and grab that dip out of the fridge, will ya?”
“For the last time, they are crisps.” Annoyance was evident by his tone.
“They’re chips, Walter. You’ve lived in the states for how long now? Just give it up already.”
“No fucking way. Wait… You don’t want cereal? Are you feeling alright?” Walter’s head popped into the doorway that connected the kitchen to the living room, his face stern with confusion and concern.
“Ehh, not right now. Yes, I’m fine, Marsh,” you giggled. “Just feeling like something different for once.”
“Well, that’s shocking. I’m just wondering if you’re really my wife.” Giggles continued to flow out of you as he wandered back to where you were seated. He handed you your snack, and plopped on the couch next to you, cuddling into you as you tossed a blanket over both of your bodies. Walter started the movie and began to chow down on the bowl of cereal he’d made for himself. You couldn’t control the smirk that spread across your lips as you watched him out of the corner of your eye.
“What?” he asked, his mouth full of the golden and cinnamon squares. His eyes met yours, questioning you.
“I would just like to point out that I knew I could convince you.”
His brow furrowed in confusion, not sure what you meant. “Convince me of what?”
“That cereal is the best movie snack.”
“I don’t know if I’d say it’s the best…”
“Walt, I’m sitting here with your previous favorite movie snack in my hands, and you totally skipped over it and went for cereal. I’m just saying, I told you so. It’s okay, I’ve known I was right all along, you don’t have to admit it.”
“Hmm.” He growled, mouth full again as he ignored your statement.
“Give me a bite!” You pressed closer to him, reaching for his spoon as he angled his body and cereal away from you.
“Oh no, nice try. You tease, you don’t get any.”
“Fine, grumpy, I’ll go make my own. Keep watching, I’ll be back.”
Shuffling to the kitchen, you proceeded to grab a bowl and make your own, but you found both cereal boxes empty on the counter. Quickly turning to check your special cereal cabinet for a backup box, you discovered you were completely out.
“WALTER! Are you fucking kidding me? We just bought those!” Standing with your arms crossed in the doorway, you glared at Walt as he stared back at you unfazed.
“I hate to break up your gloating, but you created this monster, love. And don’t forget about our two other little monsters who take after you.” His grin was cocky; he knew he’d bested you. Laser beams could have been shooting from your eyes for all you knew. You shook your head in disbelief at the audacity of your husband.
That bastard. That beautiful bastard.
Walter smiled softly at you and motioned for you to rejoin him on the couch. Much to your dismay, your anger at him diffused immediately. “Love, I’ll go buy more first thing in the morning. Here, come and share mine. I’ll be nice… it is date night, after all.”
* I do not own Walter Marshall, Nomis, Night Hunter, or anything related to it.
#Walter marshall#Walter marshall x you#nomis#night hunter#Henry cavill#henry cavill fanfic#cereal dates#scorpiobitch95#jill writes#fluff#Walter fluff
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