Steve was leaning against the doorframe watching you sitting at the table and typing into your laptop. You were working on your new book for 6 hours straight not taking a single break and also neglecting the food and drinks Steve placed next to you.
As soon as a new idea popped into your head you were not able to stop and although Steve loved how passionate you were about your job he was still worried about you and your health.
Working as an author was not as easy as everyone assumed and Steve knew that too which is why he never argued with you trying to drag you away but as he looked closer he noticed the dark circles under your eyes and how weak you actually looked from the lack of sleep making him only more worried than he already was.
You had a lot to cope with, stress, work, insecurities and all of this built up making it impossible for you to get a proper good night sleep. Enough was enough for Steve and he walked over to you, placing his hands on your shoulder softly massaging them.
“Doll you really need a break.” he said but you continued to type not bothering to show any response as Steve sighed and turned your chair, kneeling down in front of you. “Steve please I need to finish this.” Your voice was weak and you tried to turn the chair around but Steve kept you in place looking at you with a serious facial expression.
“Have you seen yourself lately? Come on. I´ll run you a bath, get you some dinner and put you in bed okay?” You tried to protest but knew that he was right. You were completely exhausted and needed any relaxation that you could get so you simply nodded which made Steve smile softly and as soon as he stood up he lifted you from your chair, so that you could wrap your legs around his torso while he brought you to the bathroom.
Steve sat you down and ran you a bath, throwing in one of your bath bombs and helping you to get out of your clothes before you sat down in the water releasing a soft moan as soon as the hot water hit your skin, relaxing you immediately. You closed your eyes and heard Steve leave the room before he came back a few moments later with a plate filled with some pasta and tomato sauce.
“I´m sorry for being so absent lately. Work is killing me and stressing me out.” You said as Steve twirled some spaghetti onto the fork, holding it to your mouth so you could eat it.
“You don´t have to apologize. I can totally understand this and that´s why I´m helping you like you always do when I come home from missions.”
You two kept sitting in the bathroom, enjoying the silence as Steve was feeding you the last few noodles before he lifted you out of the bathtub, drying you off completely and pulling one of his shirts over your head, before he brought you to your bed, where you laid down, your head placed on his chest, closing your eyes immediately.
“Thank you Steve.” You mumbled and felt his lips press a soft kiss to your forehead.
“Goodnight doll. I love you.” You smiled softly, snuggling closer and feeling his fingers running through your hair, slowly massaging your skull.
Introducing a new type of witch:
A chemistry witch! Who makes salt crystals and uses beakers instead of pots. Who uses elements of the periodic table to base spells upon. Who draws his/her favorite molecules in his/her grimoire to decorate the pages. Who makes very powerful spells with reactions between materials. Who creates magic from knowledge about chemistry!
Hi! Could I get a Jughead x Reader imagine where the reader and Jughead are best friends, but the reader has feelings for Jughead but doesn’t tell him. One day she goes “undercover” to get info about Jason’s death for Jughead and he sees her undercover and realizes he has feelings for her, and then there’s some rated T action and fluff between them? Thanks!
I kinda twisted the meaning of it but it lead to *high pitched screaming*
Being best friends with Jughead Jones isn’t the easiest thing in the world. He’s not the friendliest person to begin with, but some can easily look past that, like yourself. You and Jughead had been close every since you could remember, but the summer before Sophomore year changed things. Jughead became more reclusive and less in touch with you. It all happened after Jason Blossoms’ death. The day before school started up again, you invited yourself over to his house. Needless to say, Jughead was surprised.
“Y/N?” He asked, the bags under his eyes telling you he must’ve just woken up. Despite the normal summer heat, he was wearing a loose sweater and sweatpants. Just seeing him again, after so long, made your heart flutter. You quickly pushed it down and regained your angry composure. “I haven’t seen you in months, Jug!” You said, obviously breaking him out of his tired state. He quickly pulled you inside his house, and you accidently bumped into his chest. It was so tempting to hug him, but you fought the urge and watched as he closed the door behind you. When he faced you, you saw how intense his gaze was. “I’m sorry about that, Y/N, I am.” He said, his tone serious. “I’ve been working on something,” he said as he walked past you, beckoning you to follow him. He lead you to his room then to his desk where an open laptop rested. Pages of text cluttered the screen and just by skimming through the document the words ‘Summer’, ‘Jason Blossom’, and ‘presumed dead’ caught your eye. You turned to face Jughead who stood, unmoving, next to you. “This is what you were doing?” You asked, turning back to study the words he had typed.
“Yeah, ever since I heard he was missing.” He muttered, but you couldn’t help but be amazed by your friend. His drive and dedication to his writing was eye-opening. You faced him once more with a grin on your features. “Do you need help?”
The bear, the bear! Lifted her high into the air! The bear! The bear! I called for a knight, but you’re a bear! A bear, a bear! All black and brown and covered with hair She kicked and wailed, the maid so fair, But he licked the honey from her hair. Her hair! Her hair! He licked the honey from her hair! Then she sighed and squealed and kicked the air! My bear! She sang. My bear so fair! And off they went, from here to there, The bear, the bear, and the maiden fair.
The first conversation of this type at this table had been Charlie, at seventeen, so serious and so scared. He’d looked down at his hands, not meeting Molly’s eyes, or even Arthur’s. The word asexual was whispered like something shameful, and the Weasley parents stumbled over each other to explain that it wasn’t. Shameful. That they loved him anyway.
They walked away from the conversation feeling close to Charlie, glad for the opportunity to be trusted like this, and for the chance to reassure him of their unconditional love. They hadn’t expected the conversation to be the first of many.
Fred’s turn was next, a few years later. He was sixteen, and Molly assumed when he asked for his parents attention at the kitchen table that he was about to confess to the mysterious burn mark on the outside of the house, just under Ron’s attic window. When he instead said that he was bisexual, Molly found herself almost relieved. It was Arthur who did the reassuring that time, though they both hugged him before he left the kitchen.
Ginny’s coming out had been almost casual. She, too, had been sixteen, and had addressed her concerns mainly to her mother, sure that her father wouldn’t fly off the handle. As it turned out, Molly nodded and said that she had known all along, and Arthur laughed and started counting on his fingers.
Harry felt the same conversation necessary, after his breakup with Ginny. He looked, while pronouncing the words, as if he had put something very sharp in his mouth and was getting up the courage to swallow it. “You’ve taken me in and I broke up with your daughter, and I might start dating boys and I’m – I, I’m sorry.”
Molly’s heart broke, like it always does when Harry’s lack of parental affection throughout his life shines through, and she reached for him, reassuring him that of course it was alright, they loved him like one of their sons, he doesn’t need to hide this about himself. Arthur laughed. “You saved three of our lives, Harry, and then the entire world. It would take a lot more than bisexuality to put us off of you.” It shocked Harry that he hadn’t been the one to use the word, but they had known anyway. He felt so much lighter, so much freer having told someone other than Ginny how he felt. The entire world felt within his grasp, now, with such a strong base of love to draw from.
The last conversation - of their children, at least, their grandchildren were going to have their own sets of comings-out - didn’t happen at the kitchen table, but rather, at the front door on Christmas Eve, when Oliver Wood, dressed to the nines and bearing a beautiful poinsettia and a bottle of elf-wine, trailed happily behind Percy. “Mother, you remember Oliver from our school days. I’ve brought him tonight as my partner,” Percy said, in a voice that left no room for disapproval or argument. “I would have brought him before, but we didn’t want to steal Ginny’s thunder from the wedding.”
Molly smiled, kissed Percy and thanked Oliver for the poinsettia, seemingly nonplussed, and just happy to everyone she loved, and everyone her children loved all under one roof.
I was trying to write a post about how I could not believe that six months after meeting Even, Isak is now the type of person who gets up at eight, even when he doesn’t have school, and the type of person who actually likes pictures in which people make fun of him instead of like, freaking out but then I remember how soft Isak’s voice sounded when he was talking to Even in that car on Monday and you know what. I can. I absolutely can.
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Multiple Orgasms, Fingering, Bondage, Oral (both receiving in the form of a 69), Sweet Sex because I’m a sucker for their romance???, Sassy reader, violence and blood because they are assassins.
Notes: Why do I do this to myself? 16.4k later and it’s done. But I really liked this idea. It’s a lot of plot with a smidge of sexy smut because I love Mitch Rapp. But he’s also hella loving. And angry. And I owe @minhosmeanhoe a lot for talking through this idea with me. She is a saint and my Rapp twin. I love her. I hope you guys love this and think it’s worth it.
How lucky am I to be working with a bride (@bookwormboutique) and groom who have awesome ideas like this for their wedding?! Instead of having table numbers they’ve decided to give each table a name based on places from their favourite fictional worlds, such as this one ❤️
Imagine having to remind Dean who you are every five minutes when he is under the remembrance spell.... and eventually you have to wear a sticky note.
“Ma’am I think you have the wrong room.” Dean asked as you sat at the table, typing away on the computer.
“No Dean, I am in the room we are sharing with your brother. You are sitting in the bed we are sharing.”
“And who are you?”
“I am the girl you claim to love every time you walk out the door.”
“Oh. So you and I…” he began to point between you both.
“Sweet.” He replied, yet several minutes later, “Ma’am I think you have the wrong room.”
“Dean, would it help if I wore a sticky note?” You replied, as he looked at you in wonder.
“How do you know my…”
“We have been dating for about five years now, we met at the roadhouse, I was Jo’s best friend. You and I started sleeping together the first night you were there. Jo was furious, and you and I just laughed. Soon it went from nightly flings when you and Sam rolled into town, to I tagged along. You told me you loved me first, I made you a pie, and you said, “[Y/F/N] [Y/L/N] I will Love you until the day you stop making me pie. I however was the first one to kiss you not during sex, it was raining and you gave me your jacket so that I won’t freeze. I kissed you as soon as we got in the Impala.”
“Oh… maybe a sticky note would help.” He replied as he started towards the sticky notes, scribbling something down. Then he walked over and pressed the note firmly to your chest.
“There, now I won’t forget.” He smiled, before leaning down and kissing your hair. Returning to his seat as you looked back to the screen.
“Hey Wife, what is this?” He asked, pointing to the unlabeled book.
“Well that is a book. Did you just call me Wife?”
“That is what your sticky note says.” He pointed as you looked down at the note and saw Dean’s chicken scratch, ‘Wife.’
A smile spread on your face as you looked back at him, “yeah, I guess it does.”
When Dean and Rowena descended down the stairs you were met with the no fixed joke. And then he looked at you, “hello Wife.”
“Write Wife in my sticky note, post it to my chest and called me wife the whole time because you forgot I was your girlfriend every five minutes. Yea you did, but hey, now you have given me something I am never getting rid of.” You smiled
“Well the next irreplaceable thing I sound get you is a gold wedding ring.”Dean answered as he took your hand in his.
“Dean, I think I will stick with just the sticky note for now.” You smiled as you left, happy that you were always going to remember Dean’s amnesia.
From the first day I met you, you never let anything go. You’re the most stubborn, on track person I know. You stick to your guns and I’ve always admired that about you. This… This is the first thing you ever let go of something, especially something so fundamentally important to you. Wanting a big happy family is in your blood, your family’s blood, your ancestors blood. Something I never thought you’d compromise, but at that dinner with your parents before our wedding, I realised how much I mean to you.
I’m not even mad anymore I just feel sorry for those who aren’t seated at the bold type table getting served all this delicious kadena like I’m just so sorry for y'all I wish you the best during your starvation period see me waiving from the feast, table side, laughing, but jsut know I’m praying for you