y'all I have been working on too many fics at once and I haven't even gotten one finished! but I did have one part of a non request complete, idk if I'll ever get to the other parts
no warnings but there are mentions of fainting
Burning Spice is a wild and destructive man who takes what he wants so it should be expected that he's the same way in his love life...
When he first saw you you were a traveler who just so happened to be wandering through the spice desert. The burn of spices filled your lungs as you trudged through the barren wasteland making you unaware that a ruthless beast was watching your every move from afar.
Your knees grew weak and limp, your eyes burned from the spice rendering you almost sightless, then you heard distant footsteps, heavy ones... and you suddenly wished you had decided on a different destination why did you have to go to this terrible place? At this point you're too exhausted to do anything, you feel yourself slipping in and out of consciousness and then everything goes black
When you come to you notice that you are no longer laying in the hot sands of the desert but on an unfamiliar bed that appeared to be in the room of some sort of temple. Your confusion turns to panic as you hear what sounds like arguing or perhaps a really loud conversation between two people, it's hard to make out what's being said due to the people talking over each other but you hear something about a "measley merchant" that makes your ears perk up.
They were talking about you. You frantically look around the room in hopes of finding an escape route but you see nothing. You start to hear heavy yet slow footsteps inch closer, your heart beats out of your chest, you stare at the door shaking as you brace yourself for the worst...
this has got to be the worst comeback ever I'm so sorry guys đ
I'm really hoping to get done with another request by Christmas
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Figured iâd give a little teaser for this wonderful Monday morning đ«¶đ» Itâs unedited and has many things i could change (along with changing words around and such) but I figured it was best this way so then when the first chapter is out, itâs still a surprise since this isnât the final version! Plus it gives a small preview of whatâs to come! Anywho- please enjoy, probably still rusty and not my best but hey ho!
âFrank was still unsure but he plastered on a smile and nodded, standing up finally. âHow about that tour?â
The main base of operations- as Robert liked to call it- was crowded with several rooms that were either full of equipment or empty. If he didnât know any better, heâd think the place was run down. The main big room had a makeshift stage and had microphones in their stands and drum kits in the back, it was busy with equipment but looked as neat as it could be.
âTrinity, Samira, Mel and Whitaker arenât here, otherwise I would've introduced you but youâll meet them soon enough. Trinity is our lead singer, big mouthed and opinionated. Mel is the bass player and backup vocals, though she doesnât speak much on stage but the crowds love her.â
âThey sound like very different characters,â Frank comments with a wince. âEspecially Trinity,â
âShe butts heads with most of the crew but she gets along with one or two of them, mostly her own bandmates.â Robert says, âthe other two are more levelheaded, but youâll be fine anyway. Samira is the guitarist, she has great skills and then Parker on drums.â
You are quite proud to say you have successfully survived any and all encounters with one James Buchanan Barnes after that.Â
He frequents the diner normally with Steve, or his sisters or â and the most disappointing of them all â his dates.Â
And, you learn against your will, that Bucky indeed goes on lots of dates. Which, you suppose you shouldâve known.
You never serve him when he comes in with a girl because when he comes in you're either on a break or you haven't clocked in yet or you're just ending your shift, and you're thankful for it.Â
You know that you wouldnât be able to be the friendliest you could be when he brings girl after girl through those double doors and orders milkshake after milkshake.Â
It doesnât take you long to come to the conclusion that the tiny little crush you harbored for him turned into a not-so-tiny-and-little crush.Â
It was big, bigger than anything you've ever felt for a man, for sure.Â
So every time Bucky Barnes came in with a new girl under his arm, you could feel yourself deflate just a little more.Â
Theyâre never the same girl.Â
Every few weeks Bucky comes in with a new one tucked into him.Â
One thing you do notice is that it seems Bucky just likes women, they have no particular similarities; blondes, brunettes, girls with hair as black night. Wide brown doe eyes, siren-like blue eyes, and everything in between.
Bucky just really seems to appreciate women.Â
But the thing isâŠtheyâre always older than you.
Hello friends! This is the second chapter of Marrow of Life. It will be coming out tomorrow. Since I am impatient and extremely excited, I am once again copying @just-the-hiddles style and posting a teaser. I love my tumblr mom.Â
When you get to the coffee shop, you donât expect Neil to be there yet. You are a bit early, after all. Yet, there he is, sitting at the table with a book open in front of him. He isnât reading it however. His eyes keep scanning the shop, looking for something. When they land on you walking towards him, they brighten as his lips pull into a grin.Â
âHi!â He says, standing up to meet you. You smile back.
âHi.â
He takes your hand in his and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles.You can feel your face burning and based on his widening smile, he notices the blush. He glances down at your hand in his then looks at you with a questioning look in his eyes. He wants to know if you are okay with this. You nod in response. He nods with a smile and walks you over to the counter and orders a black tea for himself.
âWhat can I order for you? Coffee, tea, food of some kind? Have you eaten today?â
You laugh a little at his consideration. âI can pay for myself. You donât have to feel obligated.â
He shakes his head and squeezes your hand, âI want to. What are you drinking?â
You smile and give your order to the barista before going back to the table Neil was at before. He pulls the chair out and helps you in, finally releasing your hand when he goes to sit back down. Heâs a perfect gentleman.Â
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Pure, unadulterated crack, fresh from the depths of my sleep-deprived brain. Iâm sorry not sorry.
This is probably a teaser for a longer something once Mitsuhide finishes torturing me in my mind *g* BECAUSE I WANT SHINGEN KITCHEN SMUT RIGHT NOW. Oooohhhhhh the places my mind goes with this. Why yes, I am an equal-opportunity Ikesen ho.
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~
Title: Sweet Fantasies
Pairing: Shingen x MC
Rating: T (No smut, all crack. Sexytime insinuated)
Description: While enjoying a sunny day in the garden, Shingen and MC discuss something MC misses from the future. Silliness follows.Â
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The warmth of spring had finally arrived and the rain ceased, albeit temporarily. It was the first time in nearly two weeks the doors inside our home stood open, letting in the fresh air and allowing us out. I sat in the garden under a shower of cherry blossoms while Shingen worked on his latest projectâa cradle for Yukimura and his new wife. The announcement hadnât been made yet, but we could tell by the way Mariko carried herself that it would come soon. Many times over the last month Iâd braved the incessant downpour to care for her during bouts of sickness while Shingen and Yuki were otherwise indisposed. The mental image of Yukimura figuring out how to handle a baby amused me so much that I couldnât help laughing out loud.
âWhat, pray tell, brings my goddess such great joy?â Shingen asked. His head was bent against his work and wood shavings covered him from head to toe as he carved and sanded the rocker blades that would hold our gift.
âJust thinking about how much fun it will be to tease Yukimura about being a father,â I answered, still snickering.
Shingen laughed as well. âLucky for Mariko, heâs a fast learner,â he said. This was true. Yuki might have been an awkward idiot, but he was sincere in everything he did and if it meant pleasing his wife, heâd go to the ends of the earth to do it. âItâs such a shame,â Shingen continued, still chuckling, âI have this goddess in my presence, yet sheâs thinking of another man. I must be losing my touch.â
I rolled my eyes. âYouâre so corny.â
âPerhaps.â Shingen placed his tools to the side and opened his arms. âCome here. I suddenly have the need to hold my angel.â His cheesy lines made my face heat, but I slipped into his lap without hesitation and lay my head against his shoulder. Everything this man did, he did with the sole purpose of making me smile.
A purr of satisfaction rumbled out from his chest, coursing through me in the most delicious way. It would be so easy to distract him with a kiss; to drag him back to our bedroom and spent yet another day wrapped up in each other. Though as much as I wouldâve enjoyed it, the sunshine was too warm and wonderful to ignore.
âTell me, my love,â Shingen said, his fingers coursing through my unbound hair, âwhat is it like to raise children in your time?â
âI donât really know,â I answered. Weâd talked about kids a lot over the last year since returning from the future, but despite Shingenâs best efforts, it hadnât happened yet. âThe birth process is much easier thanks to modern medicine. Painkillers, a couple of days in the hospital, and youâre home. I imagine itâs easier to care for a baby with things like electricity and refrigeration. If a mom canât produce breast milk, there are easily available alternatives. A modern kitchen definitely helps when preparing a little oneâs food.â
âThat kitchen of yours certainly was a sight to behold.â
âYou know, of all the things I miss from the future, I think I miss my kitchen the most.â
Shingenâs hand stilled in my hair. We often talked of the future, but not of the things I missed. I chose not to dwell on the conveniences Iâd given up. When we first returned, Shingen asked me often if I regretted leaving and I always told him no. To mention something I miss meant I had his full attention.
âWhat makes you miss that kitchen so much?â
âYouâll think itâs silly.â I turned my face into his chest to hide my embarrassment and laughed.
âNothing you say is silly. Tell me what you miss.â
I hesitated and he pulled me back by the shoulders. Shingen made me look at him despite the burning redness in my face.
âThe raised counters,â I admitted, mortified. Shingenâs forehead creased and a small half-smile appeared on his lips.
âThe counters? Why ever would that be the thing you miss most?â
âIâŠI canât tell you that part.â
âMy angel,â he started, his gaze darkening as he stared at me, âyou must remember that I am a master of information. I have ways of extracting it from you.â
Ways Iâd enjoy, no doubtâŠ
I leaned back against his chest, wrapping my arms around him so I didnât have to look at him. His arms slid back around me, cradling me against him like I was the most precious treasure in the world.
âSo, thereâs always this scene in romance novels where the heroine is in the kitchen and the hero comes in to see what sheâs doing.â A hysterical giggle escaped my throat. I couldnât believe I was telling him this.
âIf you feel that way about it, it must be a particularly good fantasy.â His lips land on my forehead and his fingers work back into my hair, calming me.
âWell, yeahâŠit really is.â
âTell me about it. What happens after he finds her in the kitchen?â
âHe interrupts whatever sheâs doing by coming up behind her and putting his arms around her. ThenâŠâ
âGo on.â
I take a deep breath. âHeâll distract her by kissing her. And then heâll put her up on the counter andâŠâ
âAnd then he ravishes her?â Shingen asked, entirely too interested in my little fantasy world. I nodded against his chest and bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing again. âThat is quite the fantasy, Princess. I understand why you would miss your counters so much.â There was a note ofâŠis that jealousy?âŠin his voice. His shoulders tensed and though he didnât say anything, I could tell he wasnât pleased by the thought of me doing something like that with someone else.
âShingenâŠâ I inhaled again and leaned back, steeling myself against the surprising coldness in his gaze. When I touched his face with my fingertips, he didnât lean into it like normal. âIâŠIâve never actually done that, you know. Iâve just read about it andâŠâ
And all the hardness in him melted away, replaced with a new, almost predatory determination.
âI see,â he replied. An indulgent smile appeared on his lips. âYou miss the idea of raised counters because you think it means youâll never have the chance to know how it feels for yourself.â
âYes.â
âThen I shall give you your modern kitchen. I can think of nothing more arousing than my beautiful wife in her dream kitchen making sweets for me.â
âYou always turn it around, donât you? You make everything about you.â
âOf course,â he answered with a grin. âNow that my mindâs eye has shown me you in the kitchen, your belly rounded with our first child while you make those wonderful molasses dumplings of yours, I cannot unsee it.â
He pulled me close and kissed me, his skilled lips and talented fingers teasing over me and breaking down every inhibition I had and making me totally forget my witty retort about his various appetites. By the time he let me go, I was a quivering mass of need. He did such wonderful, horrible things to me. The jerk prided himself on it.
âPerhaps, my angel, I can assist in creating some new fantasies until that kitchen is ready.â He rose from the ground, lifting me in his arms like I weighed nothing, and turned for our bedroom, his lips finding mine again.
Summary: Why does everyone around Peter Parker die?
Warnings for full fic: Death, Reader Death, Angst, Grief
A/n: let me know what you think about it or if you would like to be tagged here
Death is one of the few things in this world that doesnât discriminate. Death doesnât care whether the person they are removing brings light to the world or shrouds it in darkness. Death truly is a strange phenomena, why is it that you only remember the things you wanted to tell someone after theyâre permanently gone?
Peter Parker is a man all too familiar with death and grief. Perhaps it was a matter of misfortune. Perhaps he was cursed, doomed to wander this earth with the ones he loved dropping like flies until his heart finally gave in.Â
Tony Starkâs death had hit him hard, so hard in fact that he had resolved to stop letting people in. That had lasted about six months until her.
Y/n L/n had slowly broken down each one of his walls over the course of those six months. He hadnât even realised he loved her until that fatal moment where he watched the light leave her eyes.
Tagging a couple mutuals cause validation gives me serotonin: @blissfulparkerâ @dahliaspideyâ @thollandssâ @lovehollandsâ @sleepyhollandsâ