Princess

Spring Blooms

Warnings: FLUFF - all of the tooth rotting fluff you can handle

Pairings: Marcus Pike x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1 K

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing for Marcus. Big ups to @yespolkadotkitty​ for all of her amazing beta-ing and encouragement.

“Are you nervous..?” You whispered into your fiancé’s ear. 

Marcus Pike looked at you with his deep amber eyes and chuckled. “It’s more of a nervous energy,” he confessed.

Your seven year old daughter, Elizabeth, sprinted ahead toward the Sculpture Garden at the National Gallery. Sensing that you were not keeping up with her, she turned around to see you both lagging behind. She exhaled deeply and drudged over to you in the over-exaggerated way that only little girls can. 

“C’mon, Mom and Marcus! Don’t you wanna see the statues?”

“Lizzy, the sculptures aren’t going anywhere. I promise,” you assured her. 

“Sometimes it’s nice just to stop and smell the roses,” chimed in Marcus. 

Lizzy scanned the area looking for any type of flower. When she couldn’t spot any, she shot him a quizzical look.  “I don’t see any roses. How can I smell them if they aren’t any?” 

“It’s an expression, honey. It means to relax and enjoy life.” You took your hand and ruffled her bright red hair. 

She looked at you and nodded. “Oh.”

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Frankie cutting the backyard with no shirt. 🥵 I had to cut my backyard today and it took me almost 2 hours (my yard is huge, my city had constant rain & I also saved a few tiny frogs)! Some days I feel like a strong, independent woman whenever I cut my yard. Other times, I wish I had a Frankie to help out. Sorry for the venting…but anyways. Frankie if you please. Could be fluff or smut…surprise me 😏

can you blame him? 

pairing || Frankie Morales x Reader

word count || 828

content || suggestive but no smut, Frankie being perfect (as usual) 

a/n || please this is so cute?? also I just had to include the frogs bc I know for a fact that Frankie loves all animals

Frankie planned to get the lawn mowed early in the morning. He’s always been the type to rise early and tackle his responsibilities so he can spend the later part of his day relaxing without worry - but then he started waking up to you, so soft and pretty in his bed. The perfect distraction. So who can blame him when he wakes you with his lips ghosting over your neck and spends the majority of the morning tangled in his sheets with you, seeing how many times he can make you say his name through a moan?

The problem is that the early July heat is intense and Frankie is stubborn. He planned to mow the lawn today, so that’s exactly what he’s going to do. Of course, your offer to help him is brushed off with appreciation, so you decide to make something refreshing for what’s sure to be a tough job. Your homemade lemonade is something he raves about and soon, you’re cutting lemons as the sound of the lawn mower drones on in the background.

It’s admirable, his dedication to keeping his word. You know he doesn’t like the yard to look unkempt, and neither do you, but the idea of braving that heat is exhausting just to imagine. The  front yard is taken care of rather quickly and there’s a moment’s silence before the mower roars to life once more from the backyard. That’s the tougher one, the bigger space that requires more attention - specifically so he doesn’t accidentally harm your garden. You glance out of the bay windows to see him hard at work, his shirt darkening in some places as the heat does a number on him.

Once you’ve slid the pitcher into the refrigerator to cool, you dash upstairs to change into a sundress - a better fit for the hot day. The immediate cooling effect the dress has on you is lost the moment you pass by those bay windows on your way to the backdoor. In the few moments you were upstairs, he’s apparently decided to lose his shirt under the unforgiving July sun and you get an eyeful of your handsome man hard at work.

Even from here, you can see the shine to his tan skin, can appreciate the way his biceps flex as he maneuvers the mower in methodic lines. That hat of his is still on his head, protecting his eyes from the sun, and you’re sure that underneath it, his curls are even more prominent than usual. The sight of him makes you hotter than any hot day ever could, and suddenly you’re beyond glad he’s so stubborn, that he was so hellbent on taking care of the lawn, because the image he makes is something you never want to forget.

Your trance is broken by the sound of the mower sputtering to a stop and you’re quick to slip out the back door, walking quickly through the freshly cut grass. Frankie’s just standing from where he was crouched and there’s a bright smile on his face as he turns to you.

“Look at this little guy!” He holds his hand out to you, voice full of amusement, and you glance down to see a tiny frog huddled against his palm. “I saw him just in time. Isn’t he cute?”

“Yeah, he is.” You say, but you aren’t looking at the (admittedly adorable) frog. You’re looking at Frankie and the happiness that sparkles in his eyes despite the heat and the aches his body surely has from all the manual labor.

Frankie lets the little frog go in a safer area and looks at you, his eyebrows pinching together slightly as he realizes something up. “Whatcha need, honey?”

“Oh, uh… nothing, I just wanted to tell you that I made you some lemonade for when you’re… done.” You trail off slightly, distracted by the way Frankie pulls off his hat to run a hand through his messy hair.

He’s too observant for his own good. “...and what else?”

“Nothing! You just - I just,” You stutter, embarrassment flooding you at your inability to speak. There’s no stopping yourself when you reach forward to tuck a stray curl away from his face, your hand stopping to rest on his cheek. “I just think you look really good like this.”

Amusement lights up his eyes and before you can blink, he leans closer to capture your lips in a kiss and pulls you close by your waist, his hands greedily massaging your soft flesh. A shiver runs down your spine as he practically crushes you to his chest, just another show of his strength.

“How about we take a shower together once I’m done, hm?” He mumbles against your lips and a thrill shoots through you.

“Absolutely,”

Frankie kisses you one last time and ushers you inside with a smack to your ass. And if he rushes through the last bit of the yard, who can blame him?

{Taglist}

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For your 100 follower requests: "More please" first kiss scenario with Tovar or Whiskey. WRITER'S CHOICE.

Alright this turned into something way bigger than I had planned. This sits at 2.7k. Don't ask me where the actual idea came from, I have no idea.

Also, I want you to know, I wrote the ENTIRE SCENE with the goats and then went "...I should make sure she likes goats."

Jack Daniels x f!reader. Meet cute at a county fair. No warnings, this is all cute fluff with kissing.

Without further ado, I present to you:

She Moves Through the Fair

You were standing off to the side of the crowds, by the animal housing. Your friend was 20 minutes late so far, which wasn’t like her. You’d texted her ten minutes ago to check in.

Finally, your phone buzzed.

Hey so sorry I forgot we were supposed to go today I can’t make it

You groaned out loud at that. Great. So now you were on your own at the county fair. You’d already paid the entrance fee, so you might as well stay now. This was not how you’d expected your day to go.

“Everything alright?”

You jumped, turning towards the voice. A man had come up behind you, hands stuck in the pockets of his jeans. He was wearing a black Stetson. Your lips twitched against your will.

“I’m fine,” you told him. “Just a change of plans, is all.”

“You need any help?” The man offered you a little smile, brown eyes warm.

“No, thank you. I think I’m going to go pet some goats and… figure something out.” You shrugged.

His eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Figure something out? Are you here alone?”

“Yes,” you answered reluctantly.

“Well, I’d say I’m sorry, but this means I get a chance to escort a pretty lady today.” He smiled at you. “My own company found someone else to run around with, so I seem to be unattached for the day.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. He didn’t flinch, just waiting patiently. Well, he was handsome, that was for sure. Seemed to have manners. And if needed, you could definitely get away from him – this was a county fair, not a private event. There was security around. And if you kicked up a fuss, you’d get bystander support.

“Sure,” you agreed. “Why not. You might get bored, though.”

“I’ll be bored on my own, so if that happens, at least I’ll be bored in lovely company.” He winked at you, almost over the top, and smiled when you giggled. “I’m Jack, by the way.”

You gave him your name and shook his hand, amused.

“I believe you said something about goats?” Jack grinned at you, motioning you to go first. You nodded and headed for the nearest animal housing area, perking up a bit. Sheep over here. That was fine. You patted every sheep that came up to the fence, saying hi to each one. Jack kept pace with you and, to your surprise, he also chatted easily with the sheep. Mostly he snuck sly little comments about the “beautiful lady” he was with, making you grin every time.

“You’re quite a flirt,” you told him once the two of you finally reached the goats. “I think these guys will appreciate it more than the sheep, though.”

Jack threw his head back and laughed at that, bright and full-bellied. “You think so, huh?”

“Well, the goats are more active, usually,” you pointed out, as one headbutted your hand for attention. “Although if I were you I’d save the sweet talking for the pygmy goats, those things are too damn cute.”

“Favorites of yours, I take it?” Jack asked, leaning down a bit to pet a lazy goat who bleated at him without actually getting up.

“If I could, I would have like three of those,” you told him. “They’re so cute. And they’re a more manageable size than regular goats.”

“Looks like there’s some pygmies up there,” Jack pointed out, nodding to the end of the row.

“Don’t rush me, I’m getting there,” you shot back playfully. Jack just chuckled at you. “So, what brought you here today? You said you got ditched?”

“Promised a friend I’d come,” Jack told you with an easy shrug. “He wanted some help picking something out. ‘Course, soon as we’d done that, he got a call from another buddy of his and abandoned me to meet up with that group.” He shot you a flirty smile. “My gain, though.”

You chuckled. “Well, I dunno about that,” you murmured.

“I do.”

You felt your cheeks heat with blood and you ducked your head, momentarily flustered by his outright flirting. Then you smiled. “Well, we’ve got the rest of the day,” you pointed out. “I have no plans.”

“No?” Jack smiled. “Let’s see if I can’t change that.” He stepped around you, getting ahead of you, and winked before he sauntered off to the end of the row to the pygmy goats. He started chatting with an older gentleman on the other side of the fence, nodding back your direction once. You kept half your attention on him, curious what he was doing. But not quite curious enough to go butt in on the conversation. Instead you kept going down the row, petting goats.

At least until Jack trotted back over to you, looking smug as the cat that ate the canary. “Come on,” he told you, holding out a hand to you.

“What?”

“Come on!” Jack smiled, beckoning you again. You took his hand, and he promptly tugged you along over to the pygmy goats. The gentleman behind the fence opened up a section of fencing for you, ushering you both inside, and then efficiently herded you both into the pen with the pygmy goats.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, eyes huge. There were five goats and three kids. The kids were teeny tiny, and promptly ran over to investigate the two of you.

“Sit,” Jack encouraged you. “They’ll nibble a bit, so watch your stuff.” He gently pushed one kid away from nibbling on the hem of his jeans.

You sat, eyes still huge, and let the kids and the mamas sniff you and climb on you. They were adorable and friendly, and you were having a blast. Definitely needed to get like three of these little guys. Someday.

“How did you…?” You finally asked Jack several minutes later, after the kids had worn themselves out a bit. One of them had fallen asleep with its head on your foot, and you were loathe to move.

“Just had a friendly chat,” Jack told you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“You’re incredible,” you told him with a blinding smile. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Jack’s smile turned a little softer, almost shy. “Well, why not?” he countered. “You got stood up, looks like, might as well make the best of your day now.”

You had no words for that, so you just smiled helplessly at him and scratched one of the mama goats when she wandered over to you.

You could have happily stayed there all day, but you did eventually get up. Mostly because your stomach was rumbling, and Jack insisted the two of you eat. So you got up, said goodbye to the goats (and thanked the owner), and made your way outside to a hand washing station.

“Bright,” you grumbled as soon as you were outside, squinting. “It was not this bright earlier.”

“You didn’t bring a hat?” Jack asked, tutting at you.

“Forgot it,” you admitted. You looked at him, reached up, and stole his hat, plonking it on your head with a cheeky grin. “This’ll work.”

Jack’s jaw dropped for a moment, and then he swallowed hard, looking you up and down. “Looks good on you,” he croaked.

“Thanks.” You flashed him a grin and reached out for his hand. “Food’s this way, come on.” He followed behind you easily, letting you lead the way.

The food area was, as usual, crowded and large. There were at least a dozen different vendors, all with different types of food, everything from pizza and hot dogs to turkey legs to gyros.

“What are you in the mood for?” you asked Jack, stepping out of the way and scanning the different offerings. “And if you say anything with fried dough before lunch, I’m walking away.”

Jack laughed at that, slinging an easy arm around your shoulders. You didn’t flinch at the touch, a little surprised at yourself. “Nah, I’m pretty easy to please. I usually go for a hot dog, or a sausage to start.” He winked at you, and you choked and spluttered for a moment.

“Go, I’ll meet you at a table,” you told him, waving him on. He hesitated for only a moment before he nodded, releasing you and striding off to get in line. You took a few moments to admire the view as he walked away. Mmm. Those jeans did great things for him from this angle. (From any angle, really, if you were being honest with yourself.)

You did tear your gaze away from him so you could trot off to get in line for your own food. Fortunately, things went quickly, and by the time you had your food and turned to look for Jack, he was flagging you down from an empty table. A smile stretched your lips – he was squinting at you. You still had his hat on. Your heart fluttered, just a little.

“You can have it back, if you want,” you told him, touching two fingers to the brim of his hat as you sat down next to him.

Jack smiled, slow and sweet as molasses. “Nah,” he said. “Looks good on you. Keep it.”

You returned the smile, and the two of you settled in to eat lunch. You finally learned a bit more about him – he worked at a distillery. Not one you’d heard of, though you absolutely did not claim to be a connoisseur of whiskey. In return, you told him a bit about your own job, and the friend who’d cancelled on you today.

“We come once a year,” you told him as the two of you cleaned up. “Well. She sometimes comes more often, but the two of us always come. We usually do a bit of early holiday shopping. Eat junk food. Stuff like that.”

“Well, we’ve eaten some junk food,” Jack said, glancing at your empty plates. “We’ll get to more of that later. Haven’t done any shopping, though.”

“I’m not dragging you through the vendor buildings,” you protested.

“Who says you’ll be dragging me, darlin’?” Jack shot back with an easy grin. “I’ll tell you if I get bored, promise. Now c’mon.” He grabbed your hand, towing you along with him. The crowds parted easily for him, and you couldn’t help a little huff of jealousy. Of course he’d get from point A to point B without being elbowed half a dozen times.

To your surprise, Jack was just as enthusiastic about shopping as your friend was. He had an eye for quality, charmed the vendors into giving you better deals, and ended up with multiple purchases of his own. He stopped and bought beef jerky in a variety of flavors. He sampled local honey with you. He even somehow ended up in a half hour discussion with a local vintner talking about barrels, of all things. That one you mostly just watched, perplexed, only half following the conversation. Watching Jack was far more interesting, anyway. He was a social chameleon, able to fit in at any and every booth he stopped at. Honestly, it was fascinating to watch.

Jack carried half of your bags for you, ignoring your protests, until you huffed and gave in.

The two of you zig-zagged back and forth through the vendor buildings for a solid few hours, until you cried mercy and Jack insisted on a snack break. He parked you at a quiet out of the way table, away from the main hustle and bustle of the fair, and vanished with promises to return with sustenance. You sat backwards on the bench so you could lean back against the edge of the table, smiling. Your day had certainly turned out much better than you would have guessed.

Jack came striding back with a funnel cake, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“I haven’t had one of these in years,” you told him, amused as you took one of the forks.

“It is a fair,” he told you with a wink. “Haveta get something fried here, darlin’.”

“Fair enough.” You smiled at him, sitting closer than was strictly necessary on the bench to share the funnel cake with him. The quiet was easy between the two of you, comfortable and relaxed. The fair noises were a little quieter here, and nobody even passed by your table.

“You’ve got a little somethin’,” Jack said, pointing to his own cheek to demonstrate. You swiped at your cheek, and he shook his head. “Nope, still there.” After watching you wipe your cheek again, he chuckled. “May I?”

“Okay,” you agreed, heart tripping and then slamming into double time. Jack reached over slowly, giving you plenty of time to move, and his thumb swiped across your cheek, then again. You leaned into the touch, and his hand cupped your cheek instead.

“Can I kiss you, darlin’?” he asked, voice low and quiet.

“Yes.”

Jack leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. His moustache tickled a little, making you smile into the kiss. His hand was warm against your cheek as he held you there, pulling back a little.

“More, please,” you murmured, still smiling at him.

“With pleasure.” Jack kissed you again, a series of gentle kisses that slowly became less chaste until he finally pulled back. Your eyes fluttered open – when had you closed them? Jack was smiling, his thumb sweeping across your cheek again.

“I think we can safely say you rescued the day,” you murmured, smiling.

“It’s my pleasure, darlin’,” Jack assured you. He kissed you one more time, apparently unable to resist, and then sat back. “What else is on your agenda for the day?”

You pulled out your phone for the first time in hours to check the time and make sure you hadn’t missed any actually important messages. Nothing important. And it was getting later than you’d realized.

“I should probably head home soon,” you said regretfully. “I don’t usually stay for the music stuff. Too loud.”

“I understand.” Jack smiled. “Well, then, darlin’, you say the word and I’ll help you to your car.”

“You don’t have to,” you protested, already knowing it was useless and unable to hide your smile.

“I insist,” Jack told you with a grin of his own. “My mama’d box me ‘round the ears if I didn’t.”

You giggled at that and shook your head. “Come on, one more walk down the main road, just in case anything catches our attention.”

The two of you stood, Jack once again stealing most of the bags (although you had to admit he had them stacked and set inside each other to make things easier), and then you were off. You were at the far end of the fair, so you had a nice stroll towards the front. It was just about the point at which the type of crowd changed – the families with children were leaving, and the teenagers and young adults were starting to swarm in for the musician of the night.

Honestly, you were loathe for the night to end, but you needed to get home.

“Thank you for today,” you told Jack as the two of you walked back to your car. “Really.”

“It was my pleasure, darlin’,” Jack told you. He set down your bags in your car and then boxed you in against the side of your car, tipping his hat (which was still on your head) up so he could kiss you again. And again. And again. Finally he stepped back, lips shining and red, eyes dark. “I’ll see you again soon, darlin’.”

“Your hat,” you started.

“I’ll get it next time.” Jack gave you one last lingering kiss before he took two big steps backwards. “Go on home. Check your bags. We’ll talk soon.” He winked you and turned, walking away.

It took every ounce of willpower you had not to either go after him or immediately dig through your bags to find out what he was talking about. Instead you drove home as calmly as you could, the hat placed safely on the passenger seat. As soon as you were parked, you were gathering up the bags and the hat and bolting inside to find whatever he had left you.

A small bag that you didn’t recognize was tucked into one of the bigger bags. Inside was a pair of earrings you had talked yourself out of buying, citing that they were out of your price range, and a business card. The business card had two numbers: office and cell. Jack Daniels. The simple note written on it made your heart soar.

Call me anytime, darlin’. I’ll see you soon.

--

Tags: @fandom-blackhole @pedrocentric @beskarprincessjenny @sarahjkl82-blog @cannedsoupsucks @liviiii98 @adriiibell @seasonschange-butpeopledont @princessxkenobi @thirddeadlysin @pbeatriz @oonajaeadira @kiizhikehn-cedar @green-socks

Transatlantic (Steve Rogers One Shot)

Written for the Cap 2 Challenge by @justsomebucky and @imhereforbvcky

Prompt: ‘Be safe, if you can be’

Summary: After Peggy rejects Steve, he finds company in you, a British Brigadier who is more than meets the eye.

Pairing: Steve x Female Reader (with surname. First name is your own)

Warnings: Angst (Possible proof reading errors)

_______

Striking out with Peggy was the worst thing that had happened to Steve.

One stupid misunderstanding and she’d frozen him out. He was just staring at the map on the wall with a sense of melancholy, not even fully appreciating that he’d got Bucky back.

“That’s a sour face,” came a female voice from his right. “Chewing on a wasp?”

He turned around to see you, in a different kind of uniform, wearing pants and a Brigadier’s sash. Had you got those on by mistake or were all girls adept at kicking ass like Peggy over in Britain?

“Sorry?”

“You look a little glum,” you smile kindly. “Anything I can help with?”

“No, no I’m good. Thank you,” he blinks in bewilderment. “Uh…sorry if this is rude but…umm….”

“It’s the threads, isn’t it?” you look down and laugh. “Confused more than my fair share of Yanks lately with it. I was in the women’s auxiliary engineering corps but there was a bit of an accident you see.”

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This is why it’s so important for parents to support their trans kids.

A Study In Intimacy

1 = Reading to Din

Words = 1207

Warnings = None? Fluff if that isn’t your thing

Summary = Din is jealous of you reading to the Child so you read to him

A/N = I wrote this pre-watching season 2 so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

__________

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@ porn blogs who keep following me

Oof okay this is just me being a tad frustrated overall but:

I'm... pretty fed up with the situation on tumblr right now, not gonna lie. Yes this is about fics, and yes I do have the right to complain about it.

Because yes, I write for myself. That's absolutely true.

But I write everything what's happening in my head down for you, and writing takes a LOT of work. I would not be staying up late at night, typing sentences away on my phone or on my laptop if it wasn't for readers.

I would not be trying to make pretty sentences and come up with metaphors and check over grammar again and again and again if not for you.

I would not be editing my fics so much I almost cannot stand to look at them anymore to the point I question the quality of my writing if not for you.

Don't tell me stuff like "yes but we are reading it! There is no reason we should be forced to leave feedback" because that's not what I'm asking of you. That's absolutely NOT what I'm asking of you. I don't want to force you to do anything and in the end I cannot at all because I'm just a simple blog in my corner of the internet but it all boils down to this:

Give your writers exposure.

We work harder than you readers would ever know to get those stories you love out and it's so freaking hard to get it on paper. It takes so much energy and yes it also takes energy to comment, I understand.

But I assure you, taking the time to write a 20 word long comment is WAY less energy than the writer did to get 9000 words out with cohesive plot and creative writing.

So please, reblog. Reblog the fics you read. We writers depend on you.