SonyaPoff

You snuggled into the thickest, longest [f/c] scarf you had, gloved hands idly playing with its woollen tassels.  Somehow, you had been lumbered with responsibility of guarding your table, with the specific instruction to 'ensure other sods don't go pinching it'. By table, it was actually some rickety old wooden bench that had seen better days. Over the years you had spent living in the English countryside, you'd learned that all benches in beer gardens were of a similar condition. But still, it was better than having to stand for hours with the other spectators that had come to the Queen's Head for the fireworks display.

Police!EnglandxReader You didn't know what happened. One moment you were driving down the highway and the next, you were in the ditch, pain ripping through your body as you sat cramped in a sorry excuse for a vehicle. Moving was not an option, it hurt too much, but your head could shift slightly. It was just enough to take in your surroundings. The dash was crumpled and pinned your legs, the airbag was stained red from where your head used to lay and you could feel an itch at your forehead. Above you, the roof was dented quite thoroughly. Absently you thanked your mother's genes for making you short. It didn't register though what had reall

...Sollux.  You grinned, trying to hide any of your previous apprehension at visiting your secret crush's hive. "Hi Sollux," you say raising a hand and giving a tiny wave.  "Can I come in?" The yellow-blooded troll perked up at seeing you on his doorstep.  "Oh, hey ______!  Come on in," he said, opening the door wider for you.  You smiled and walked in as he shut the door to his hive behind you and locked it.  You turned when he didn't move from the door, a questioning look on your face, when you saw him yawning and rubbing his red and blue eyes, his glasses in one hand. "Sol, have you been sleeping lately?"  He looked utterly exhausted an

[Fair warning to y'all: I wasn't sure if I should have put the mature content filter thing on.  I doubt it though.] Alfred dislodges himself from the being underneath him and collapses onto the messy sheets next to his British lover.  Sapphires and emeralds admire each other curiously as Alfred and Arthur lie panting for what seems like hours, both wet as a result of their passionate sex. Alfred reaches out to the nightstand and grabs something Arthur can't identify in the dim light.  He feels the American's hand join his own under the sheets.  Arthur squeezes the soft palm tightly. The taller blond smiles, closing his eyes.  Arthur watche