love this book sm

Romanogers || Lost and Found

There’s always “a first"–a first glance, a first laugh, a first kiss, a first, ‘I love you,’ and now, this. The once steady pulse of Steve’s thumping heart gradually began to climb. She knows you have never done this before; she knows everything. So why are you still so afraid? Notes from Marvin Gaye’s "Distant Lover” drifted through the air like snowflakes slowly falling to the ground, but the cool, nostalgic melody of the piece was not enough to sooth Steve’s mounting state of concern. Sam said Marvin should get things up-and-running, so why isn’t it working? You’re gonna ruin this for both you and her. Stop thinking so much and just do it. But his thoughts muzzled the desires of his heart. They held him tightly in their grasp, desperately fighting to keep him paralyzed. I want this. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. Get out of your head, Rogers. Why can’t you just let go?

           The dull, jumping flame of the candles illuminated the furrowed lines of his brow, allowing Natasha to notice his unease. “Steve,” she lifted the back of her head up from her pillow and propped herself with her forearms, “You’ve been straddling  me for a minute straight, now. All the blood is starting to rush to my head.” She carefully leaned her back against the mahogany headboard. “You okay?”

           Steve released a heavy sigh and brought his leg over and away from Natasha, allowing her to move freely. He crawled next to her and mimicked her position. The frigid headboard clashed against the warmth of his skin causing a chill to run down his spine. After a long, contemplative pause, he managed to blurt out, “I just don’t want to disappoint you, Nat.”

           Slowly, she turned to face him. Her eyes studied the intensity of his gaze. The flush of his cheeks. The dilation of his pupils. The creased lines that had formed between his brows.

           "You won’t disappoint me.“

           "But what if I do?”

           "Then I’ll pack my bags and leave.“

           "WHAT?”

           "Steve,“ she appeared amused, "I’m only joking. But if you start crying during it or some weird shit like that, I might just have to–” As she gazed at him, she caught a look of alarm, rather than a look of amusement. “Look at me,” she said.

           He angled himself towards her. His eyes hesitantly rose until they leveled with hers.

           "I only want to do this if you do. There’s no need to rush anything.“ Gently, she nudged him in the side with her elbow. "We’re in this together, aren’t we?”

           He breathed a sigh of relief.

           "Come here.“ Natasha motioned for Steve to come sit between her legs.

           Carefully, he situated himself in the open spot. He leaned into her, his back and shoulders pressing lightly against her stomach. The back of his head rested on the crest of her bosom."I don’t deserve you.”

           Natasha chuckles. “No,” she said jokingly as she ran her fingers through his hair, “you don’t.”

           Subtle cracks from the candles disturbed the silence. The music player softly switched songs in the background. What was once Marvin Gaye had now melted into Etta James’ A Sunday Kind of Love­–her longing, hopeful voice adorned the room in conceptual awareness. He closed his eyes, soaking in the ambience. The hum of the speakers. The drum of the rain falling against the window. The beating of Natasha’s heart. They sat in silence, reveling in each other’s company.

           Right, and then left. Right, and then left. Her hands traveled around Steve’s scalp, leaving no area untouched. Relaxed and in a trance, his head swayed in the direction of her movements. He succumbed to her touch. Around and around. Back and forth. The two had developed a natural rhythm.

           For a moment, he opened his eyes and glanced upwards at Natasha. Her head was propped against the headboard and her eyes were closed. Although no words had been exchanged–and even if they had spoke, Nat would never share her true feelings–he could tell she felt comfortable. A soft smile graced her lips long ago, staying there for what seemed like a lifetime. He rarely saw her like this–relaxed, and genuinely content. And in this moment, he realized what he truly wanted.

           “Nat?”

           "Hmmm?“

           "Do you know how beautiful you are?”

           Her fingers stopped swirling around the nape of his neck.

           "I mean, really beautiful. Radiant.Captivating.

           She opened her eyes and looked down at him, searching his face for any indication of deceit. His pupils were dilated. His breathing was slow. "No,” Natasha replied. She gingerly ran her hand down the side of his cheek, “you’re the beautiful one.”

           All at once, he wanted her. Every part of her. He saw himself in her, around her, with her. Every inch of his body screamed for her, begging him to approach the warmth that emanated from her being. To touch her; to feel her. "Do you mind if we try again?”

           Her eyebrows raised, “Of course not, but I just don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything you don't–”

           Steve lifted his head off of her chest, pushed himself up, flipped over on his hands and knees, and threw his legs over hers, straddling her once more.

           "– want to,“ Natasha finished.

           He smiles, "I want this,” he said, “and I want you.” Steve moved backwards on his hands and knees like lion preparing to dine. He took a deep meditated breath in and out, then dropped down, and began kissing her ankles. Slow movement was imperative. He would never dream of rushing a moment like this. “Do you know what else I want?” Steve made his way up her leg, kissing her shin, and then her inner thigh. “I want–” he kissed the curve of her hip, “–to make–” now, her shoulder blade, “–you happy.” Gently, he pecked at the hollow cove of her neck. A paper-thin kiss so heavy that the weight of it resided on Natasha’s skin for what seemed like an eternity.

            He took her chin between his fingers, angling her head upwards. “And the way I do that,” his lips pressed lightly on her forehead, “is by finding out what you want.” The warmth of her flesh was more than stimulating to him. It was an invitation for him to give her what she always deserved: a relationship based solely on mutual respect and trust. No politics. No secrets. Just a genuine connection. “Natalia,” he kissed her left eye, “what is it that I can do for you?” In one fluid movement, Steve kissed her right eye and then the tip of her nose. “Name it, and I’ll do it. I’m here for you.”

                       When his lips came in contact with her cheek, he was surprised by an unanticipated wetness. He stopped abruptly, pulling back to examine her face. The candle casted light on a lonely tear glistening against her ivory skin. “O–Oh my goodness, Nat, I–”

           She cupped the sides of his face with her hands. His freshly shaved skin felt great against her touch.

           "I–I didn’t mean to–did I do something wron–was it something I said?“

           She drew him in closer, motioning for him to continue.

           It was tempting to proceed, to act like nothing was wrong. But, deep down, he knew he couldn’t. He craved to make her happy more than he craved his own happiness. "No,” he stated softly, but sternly, “Nat…what’s wrong?”

           Her hands dropped from his face and she sat down silently.

           "Come on,“ he got up from his position and returned to the spot where he had once sat. He nudged her with his elbow, "We’re in this together, aren’t we?”

           Natasha turned around to face him. “I­–” she lowered her gaze. “I, uh–I just–you didn’t do anything wrong.”

           Steve cocked his head to the side. “I didn’t?”

           "No,“ She replied, "that's­–well–actually, that’s why I’m crying.”

           He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

           "You don’t have to say anything, just–just give me a moment to explain.“ She leaned against the cool headboard and began tracing imaginary lines on the palm of her hand. "When I was in the Red Room,” she took a deep breath, “the success of the mission was the only thing that was important. It didn’t matter how you felt about your assignment. They just didn’t care, and I wasn’t supposed to, either.” Tears begin welling up in her eyes.

           "Natasha, if this is too painful for you, you don’t have to tell me any–"

           "But I want to,“ she wiped the forming tears out of her eyes and placed her hand on top of his. "I want to.”

           "Okay,“ he squeezed her hand.

           Once again, she took a deep breath, then continued. "Many times, while I was undercover, I had to play a multitude of different roles. Sometimes, I was a wealthy estate owner looking for new markets to tap into. Other times, I was a lost tourist asking for directions,” she paused. “But, more times than I’d like to recall, my role consisted of me using my sexuality to get vital pieces of information, and you and I both know how easy it is to get people to do what you want them to do when sex is involved,” she chuckled. “I did what I had to do. And, do you wanna know something funny?”

           Steve kept his hand on hers, moving his thumb back and forth against the smooth surface of her wrist.

           "Even though I was using them in order to gain power,“ she admitted, "I never felt more powerless than I did when I was with them. I knew I wasn’t supposed to care. That it was all for the mission. But I couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that what I was doing was in no way what I wanted to do. I mean, of course I was the one who engaged with them. I was the one who took them into a room and began undressing them, but I never really had a choice, you know?” Once again, tears began forming in her eyes. Only, this time, she didn’t wipe them away. “No one from the Red Room ever gave me any other alternative. No one that I slept with ever asked me who I was or what I wanted. Not the men, not the women, no one. It was always about them.”

           "Nat, I am so sor–”

           She put her free hand up, signaling for Steve to stop. “But, just when I began to think that love was some bullshit concept made up by children,” she drops her hand, “ you showed up.” The tears fell rapidly, now, rolling off of her cheek and onto the cotton sheets below. “You helped me figure out why those missions always left me feeling empty. Love is not one-sided. It’s about losing yourself in your partner and in their happiness. It’s about asking permission; it’s about asking them how they feel. It’s about trust.” Natasha leaned over and intertwined her lips with his.

           Soon, they broke apart.

           "And I trust you,“ she said.

           Steve cupped her face in his hands and brushed the tears off of her cheeks. "I trust you, too.” He opened his legs, motioning for Natasha to sit in between them. “Come here.”

           With a timid smile on her face, she made her way over to the empty space. She rested the back of her head on his chest and melted into him.

           He embraced her, making sure to leave no inch of her skin out of contact with his. A wide grin crept on his face. “And you thought I was the one who was going to cry.”

           "Shut up,“ Natasha playfully slapped his arm and laughed uncontrollably.

           "If that’s what you want me to do, then I’ll do it,” Steve retorted between breathy laughs. He hugged her a little tighter and lightly placed his chin amidst her auburn hair “And now that I’ve got you,” he smiled, “I’m not ever letting go.”


(Inspired by @chalantness  || read her one-shots here)

E X O

8

Face it, girls, I’m older and I have more insurance.

3

books (re)read in 2016: kulti by mariana zapata

But once upon a time, a young Salomé Casillas had spent three birthday wishes in a row on the same thing: that one day Reiner ‘The King’ Kulti would know that I was alive…and marry me. Third on my list of wishes was that he’d teach me how to be the best.
I would have given just about anything for that to happen. Anything. I would have died of joy if he’d ever touched my freaking hand when I was twelve.
At twenty-seven, knowing what I knew about him at this point, I would have been happy living the rest of my life inconspicuously.
But sometimes fate was fickle and immature, because just a couple of days after telling Gardner about how everyone was being affected by the ex-superstar’s lack of attention, my pre-teen prayers were answered out of nowhere.

8

Hedwig didn’t return until the end of the Easter holidays. Percy’s letter was enclosed in a package of Easter eggs that Mrs. Weasley had sent. Both Harry’s and Ron’s were the size of dragon eggs, and full of home-made toffee. Hermione’s, however, was smaller than a chicken’s egg. Her face fell when she saw it. "Your mum doesn’t read Witch’s Weekly, by any chance, does she, Ron?“ she asked quietly. "Yeah,” said Ron, whose mouth was full of toffee. “Gets it for the recipes." Hermione looked sadly at her tiny egg.

{26/06/16} - a new addition to my bujo pages! i did this yesterday to calm me down and also warm up for the study session ahead and i forgot to post it rip..,, anyway, the titles that are in all caps and the books that i LOVE sm and would totally reread 10000 times. the two books in the picture are the raven king by maggie stiefvater and a court of mist and fury by sarah j. maas. (they have one thing in common: both killed me and brought me back to life) ((that’s how good they are ok)) 

Love is so much easier in books


Can I make a request? Idk if u do hermione or not but imma give it a shot and if not don’t worry about it anyways my request is could u please write a mione x reader where they’re in the Gryffindor common room cuddled up reading a book and Hermione is being oddly quiet so the reader asks whats up and she says sm like “love is so much easier in books because if life were a book i’d be able to tell the person i love that i love them” and somehow hermione ends up telling her feelings 4 the reader.

Originally posted by imaginesofmostthings

A/N: This is my first Fem! Reader X Hermione. so please don’t judge.


the common room was a place where everybody would come to relax, or just do their homework. It was a place where your house would meet up after a long tiring day of learning and getting lost in the castle that is way too big. Some would pull pranks on each other (Fred and George), others would take it more easy and read a book, like Y/N and Hermione. The two girls sat on the couch, opposite Ron and Harry who were talking about some quidditch stuff.


“I swear to God, I don’t understand a word of what they are saying, it’s another language!”, Y/N said as she laid her legs over Hermione’s lap. Her head resting on her shoulder. “um, yeah”, Hermione answered. Y/N raised an eyebrow. Hermione was never this quiet and she couldn’t help but wonder if something had happened. Another Slytherin that insulted her? She sighed and went on with reading her book. It was late by the time she decided it was enough for today. “I’m going to bed”, Hermione said as she stood up, pushing Y/N her legs of hers gently. Ron, Harry and Y/N said their goodnights as Hermione went up the stairs.


“what’s wrong with her?”, Y/N said as she heard the door of the dorm close. “what?”, Ron asked. “Hermione, she’s awfully quiet” “oh, she’s probably tired” “you sure?” “Yeah”, Harry said as he looked at Ron, his eyes begging him to help. “yeah, Y/N, you know how she is, always dragging those heavy books along, learning and yeah, it’s probably tiring”, Ron shrugged. “how could you know, you never learn for anything”, Y/N said. Harry laughed at Ron’s red face. “well, I’m going to bed to, see you guys tomorrow”, Y/N sat up and waved the boys good bye.


Defends Against Dark Arts was rather boring. But it surprised Y/N even more that Hermione didn’t sat next to her. She had always sat next to her, from the first day, even from the train ride to Hogwarts on the very first day. That’s when they met. Y/N her parents, Muggles, didn’t know how to come to the platform and Hermione’s parents, also Muggles, helped them out. That’s how they started talking. Two Muggleborns, ready to go to a whole new world.


But now Hermione sat next to Seamus and she tried at all cost to ignore Y/N’s glances and whispers. Eventually the class has to stop and she’ll have to talk to Y/N right? So Y/N stopped trying and just looked at the teacher. She wasn’t going to deny that it hurt. Y/N was openly into girls, which everybody seemed okay with. And over the years she knew Hermione, she fell in love with her. But she knew Hermione wasn’t into girls and she’d probably freak out if she knew about Y/N’s love for the frizzy haired girl. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. What if Hermione did found out and that’s why she’s ignoring her?


“Class dismissed”, The professor said. Y/N stood up, walking towards Hermione. “what’s wrong?”, She asked.

“what?”
“you’re ignoring me”
“I’m not”


“then why didn’t you sit next to me and why don’t you talk to me anymore?”
“I am, right now”, Hermione said, taking her bag, “I’m sorry, I have to go” Y/N stayed behind, watching her leave. She felt her heart break.


The common room was just as crowded as last night. Y/N sat opposite an empty spot. A book on her lap, not even caring about the people around her. But soon the spot opposite her was occupied. Y/N didn’t bother looking who it was until a voice spoke to her.


love is so much easier in books because if life were a book I’d be able to tell the person I love that I love them
“so that’s what bothering you? You’re in love with someone?”
Hermione nodded. “why don’t you just tell him?”, Y/N asked. “It’s not a ‘he’”, Hermione said, cheeks red. “It’s a girl? Who?”, Y/N smiled. Should she be happy that Hermione liked a girl, did that mean she had a chance? “I can’t tell” “why not” “you won’t like it” “no … Not Patty Parkinson!”, Y/N said shocked. “Oh my … NEVER”, Hermione said laughing while making a face. “Who is it then? Can’t be worse than Parkinson” “it’s … please don’t get mad, it’s you”, Hermione said. Her cheeks weren’t the only thing that was red now, her whole face was red. She looked like a cherry. “You … like me?”, Y/N said shocked. Hermione nod.
“Mione, that’s amazing!”


“really?”, Hermione asked. “yes”, Y/N said, sitting next to Hermione now, “cause I like you too”. Hermione started smiling. “so, Girlfriends?”, She asked. Y/N laughed and nod. “Girlfriends”.

shirchige  asked:

kiss da papa's cheek (˵◕ω◕˵✿)

          FIRST  THREE  IN  MY  INBOX  GET  KISSES     /      1  of  3      /     @shirchige

                IT  HAD  BEEN  A   PRETTY  NORMAL  DAY                       he  had  pranked  Thatch ,   stole  Marco’s  sash       &      fled    a    gruesome    death      (        the  first  division  commander  had  a  knack  for  throwing  people  over  board      &      the  logia  user  wasn’t       too  keen       on  landing  himself  there       )    ;      he  got      a  lot      of  meat  for  dinner ,   Izo  had     stopped  trying       to  style  his  unruly  hair  for  the  day         &        haruta  had     promised      to  play  cards  with  him  later.        All  in  all ,      the  raven  felt      really  content.        he  was  still  amazed  that  they  wanted  him                      welcomed  him  into  their  middle      &      loved  him  with  such  finality  and  strength.   it  made  him  love  his  life ,   made  him  cling  to  each  breath      &      laugh  more  freely.   he  loved  his  family.   he    loved     what  they  were  for  each  other     &   each   step    seemed     easier  now.   

                   hearing  someone  shouting  something  about  a  party ,   the  second  division  commander    couldn’t    contain  the  grin  that  threatened  to  overtake  his  mimic      &     twirled  around  on  his  heels.     ‘                DID  SOMEONE  say  party ?   how  about  we  do  a  drinking  contest  then ,  huh   ?       ’        he    roared    like  a  lion ,    voice  thick  with    amusement     &  puffed  out  his  chest.     he  belonged  here ;     he  was  a  part  of  this.       his  heart  beat  steadily  at  this  thought ,    warmth    lighting  the  ash  of  his  hues     &      ebony  lashes  touched    gingerly    his  freckle  dusted  cheeks  as  he  laughed.   he  wore    starlight    in  his  eyes     &     the  sun  in  his  grin                a  cosmos  engraved  into  his   mimic.   

                         his  brothers        &        sisters  only    laughed ,     fully  aware  that  the  fire  user  was  a  light  weight.    Feeling  challenged  by  their  disbelief   of  his  victory ,   he    quickly    agreed  to  help  setting  everything   up   and   was  quickly  lost  in  the  task  of   carrying  stuff  on  the  deck             while  joking     &       laughing  the  time  away  with   those  near  him.   it  was    endearing    how    comfortable    he  was ,    how  much  he  was  himself  towards  his  crew.     his  family.     when  the  contest  started  it   didn’t  take  him   long  to  feel  the    familiar      sensation  of  a  narcoleptic  attack     blossom      &   he  hadn’t  even  the  time  to  set  down  his  cup  before  he   toppled  downwards  into  the  wooden  planks  and  snored  soundly.   the  rest ,   used  to  it  by  now ,   quickly  exchanged  money   &    laughed               bets  were  popular  by  now  and  especially  on  Ace  and   his  sleeping  attacks.   

             some  hours  later    the  raven    woke    with  a  yelp                       sitting  up    groggily     he  furrowed  his  brow  in    confusion.     the  ground  was  soft      &      he  could  hear  the  party ,   see  the  stars  blinking  above  them ,   feel  the  breeze  of  the  ocean    gently  caress    his  cheeks  and  even  hear  waves  crashing  against  the  moby.   suddenly ,   everything  shook   and  a    booming  laugh    startled    him                before  the    familiarity    of  it  crashed  through  his     sleep  fogged  mind.    grinning  sheepishly  he  turned  to  face  his  captain     &    locked  gazes  with  the  wise  man.   his  gaze  was  so  gentle ,   so  caring     &     kind           it  made  his  heart  heal     (   each  second  closing  wounds  on  his  soul    ).     

             ‘                                HEI  POPS ,   can   you  bend  down  a  bit   ?          ’            he  whispered  on  an    impulse ,     voice  thick  with  his    gratitude.      Ace  wasn’t  sure  why  he  did  it      &      what  brought  it  on    but    the  moment    he  stood  up  on   Whitebeard’s   leg  when  the  older  pirate  did  as  he  asked ,  the  freckled  youth  knew  it  was  right.   edward  newgate  gave  him     hope ,     gave  him  love       &     showed  him  kindness     even  though  he  had  been  nothing  but  unfair  and  blind  in   the  beginning.   oh ,   how    wrong    he  had  been.    pops  had  brought  back  colors  to  his  life  where  they  had  been      missing            &      showed  him  that  not  everyone  in  this  world  was  the  same ,       the  same  grey  and  cold      as  he  had    always  thought.       pressing  a  little  kiss  to  his     fathers       cheek  was  his  way  to  say  thank  you   and  he  was  sure   the  man  knew     very  well     of   its  meaning.