#and the other says I don't have a head but gimme five minutes

[keeksandgigz]

my guy

eddie munson x fem!reader

Eddie being your personal handyman and stupidly in love.

cw: 2k words. no warnings just two kids being absolutely smitten for each other. tooth rotting fluff. teeny allusion to smut. Eddie being a flustered mess bless him. 18+ mdni

AN: this is literally the most low stakes thing i've ever written i just started cheesing at the idea of eddie cheesing at being called your guy

The sputtering of the washing machine startles you.

Huffing, you put your book down on the couch, rising from the depth of the cushions in which you had settled yourself into after finishing your chores and go assess the issue.

"Shit," the floor is wet and you shudder at the feeling of the cold soapy water getting into the bottoms of your socks as you slowly make your way to the washing machine to unplug it.

You try your best to dry the floor, wincing at the feeling of wet socks on the linoleum floor, cursing under your breath at the cold feel of the fabric against your skin.

Despite the floor being dry, your washing machine was broken, and you couldn't afford to buy a new one. Fortunately, your neighbor, Eddie had been your own personal handyman ever since you mentioned in passing that your sink was leaking a bit after moving into your place a couple months ago. The day after he was at your door, toolbox in hand. Your sink was fixed in less than a couple hours.

You knock at his front door, three precise, well timed knocks. Your mind cannot help but start counting just to see how long it will take him to open his door.

One, two, three, four, five, si--

The rattling of the door handle distracts you from your counting. Eddie's eyes are wide as they stare at you. His hair is tied in a low bun and he's fidgeting with a guitar pick in his hand. He must have been playing.

He's really quiet for a second, then clears his throat. "Oh, um. Hey, what's up?"

"Hey, nothing much? just wondering if you're busy right now" your tone always softens up with him around.

He looks around his apartment, almost as if he needed to remember if there was anything he should've been doing.

"Nope, don't think so. Why?" He leans against his doorframe, and he's cute in the way his pitch perks up, his smile expands just a bit to let a few crinkles form around his eyes.

"Well um... my washing machine broke and I can't afford to buy another one. I have a really important interview tomorrow morning and I need a clean dress shirt to wear. I thought I could get my guy to take a look at it and assess the damage?" you lightly punch your fist across his chest and he blushes a bit. You can tell by the way he starts blinking a bit faster that he's flustered.

"Your- your guy?" he stutters, almost as if he heard nothing else aside from that.

"Yeah, silly. My guy, like, my handyman" you smile at him, and if someone could get even more nervous, you're sure that Eddie just did, because he lets out a breathy laugh.

"Right. Your handyman guy, of course" and he shakes his head, smiling to himself a bit.

"So... can you do it?" you ask, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, no of course, sweetheart. Gimme a couple minutes and I'll be right over to you" he says smiling.

You head back to your apartment, leaving the door open for him to follow you with his toolbox, and Eddie feels like he’s lost every sense of reason when he enters and becomes surrounded by your scent.

The fabric softener you use has taken over every corner of your house, but he’s not complaining. Taking one last sniff for courage, he steps into the kitchen, where you’re sitting at, waiting for him.

“Alright, can I take a look at your washing machine?” he asks, tilting his head.

“Yeah, it’s right this way” you lead him to the laundry room, and Eddie’s suffocating. You’re everywhere.

He kneels in front of the machine and opens its door.

"What's this interview for anyway if it's got you actin' so nervous?" He says from inside the washing machine. He's fidgeting with the rubber at the opening, the hose.

"It's for this job at the school. I applied to teach at the middle school, but I'm not sure if they'll give it to me" you say, panic settling in. He's taking too long, you're done for. No clean shirt, no job.

"Nah, sweetheart, there's no reason why they shouldn't. You're incredibly smart, from all the books I've seen you read, your apartment is all books, you nerd" he starts laughing, and then stops.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to call you a nerd." He takes his head out of the washing machine. "I just- I know you're gonna do great. And if you don't maybe you can become my apprentice, would you mind passing me my flashlight?" he gives you a half smile.

Reaching for his toolbox you pass it to him.

"See? You're already perfect for the job, you're hired" he says, making you laugh. He smiles proudly to himself, and he's happy that you can't see him from inside the washing machine, because he's sure he's bursting with joy at the sound of your laughter.

"Thanks, Ed. I'll consider it." you say, and immediately after you hear a oh shit! coming from inside the machine. Concern washes over your face.

"Ed? What's wrong?" you say, as you carefully step closer towards him.

“I know what the problem is." He takes his head out again The rubber thingy that helps you close the thingy is broken” he says, like you understood what he meant.

“For a handyman you sure have your way with words” you laugh, and he doesn’t even care that he’s made a fool of himself by forgetting what the rubber gasket was called. Because he’s made you laugh.

"So how do I get this rubber thingy fixed, mr handyman?" you ask, voice still amused at how flustered he is.

"Well, I'd need to go down the hardware store and get a replacement, but it's 8PM, so I can't do anything about it now, sweetheart. Sorry" he says, and it breaks his heart to have to say no to you.

"Oh, okay." your voice sounds sad, it hurts him. "Thanks anyway, Eddie. I'll stop by the hardware store tomorrow morning before my interview if you wanna stop by in the afternoon and finish this?"

He thinks about it, about the interview. About how much you said you want the job.

"Wait, I have an idea. What if you wash your clothes in my washing machine for tonight? So you can have your shirt ready for your interview, then tomorrow I can go and get the gaskets to fix it. It's called a gasket, not rubber thingy" he says, playing with his hair.

"Ed it's fine, I can go get it" you say, trying not to blush at how gentle and kind he is "I'll take you up on your offer of using your machine, though. Thanks, Ed. You're too nice" you say, reaching for the basket of wet clothes on top of the dishwasher.

"Anytime, sweetheart. Y'know I take good care of my clientele" he says, smug smile on his lips. You giggle and fake a gasp.

"Are you cheating on me? Are you being someone else's guy?!" he laughs and goes along with it.

"Well, Mrs. Davis did ask me to fix her bathtub, after learning from someone that I fixed their sink" he said, a fake accusatory stare at you.

"You should get paid for this, Ed. You've already fixed my sink, my door hinges, helped me change my lock and now my washing machine. Soon the whole complex is gonna ask you to do their maintenance" you laugh.

"I do it out of the kindness of my heart" he says, taking a dramatic bow , then rises and leans against the washing machine. "Really, though, I don't mind doing it. I enjoy being helpful. I don't want your money, sweetheart"

"No, Eddie, I insist. I need to pay you, especially after you said you're getting the rubber thingy for me, what was it called again? A gusset?"

"Gasket" he says smiling, pointing a cheeky finger at you. Then the air becomes a bit tense, he stiffens up. You see him takes a deep breath, he's suddenly nervous which puts you on edge. Did you say something wrong? Then he speaks up again. "Tell you what, as a payment for my services, I pick you up Friday night at 7 and we have dinner. What do you say?"

Shit. You would not have pegged him for the type to be that smooth, but he had you. He liked you and he was sweet to you and he wanted to take you out to dinner. It helped that he was cute. There was no hesitation when you nodded your head yes.

"I say that's a great idea, Ed. I'll let you know how the interview goes. Should we go to your apartment?" you say. You notice the quizzical, borderline alarmed, look on his face.

"So I can wash my stuff, I mean" an awkward laugh escapes you as he motions for you to lead the way.

His apartment is the same layout as yours, but rather than books, his walls are filled with painted figurines, guitars, notebooks and DnD game sets. A true nerdy den.

"Um, the washing machine is down the hall. We have the same one, let me know if you need anything, okay?" he says, heading over to the couch, setting his toolbox down and picking up his guitar.

His laundry detergent is strong. The thought of this load of washing smelling like him makes your head spin.

After you've started the load, you head out of the laundry room and head over to the couch, where Eddie is. You swear his eyes glint a little when he sees you.

"Hey mr. handyman." you say, plopping down next to him "Keep playing, I'm just gonna watch you." You smile at him.

His face is concentrated, tongue darting out of his lips every once in a while. Cute, you think, a silly quirk that makes your mind travel to places that it should not even dare to go, you haven't even had your first date yet. God, you wanna kiss him.

He plays some aggressive guitar chords, one after the other, music sheets scattered on his knee, balancing precariously as he taps the rhythm with his head, his hair falling out of its confinements with each bob of his head.

"I hear you play sometimes." You interrupt. He raises his head, his hair has all fallen out of the bun and lays on his shoulders.

"What?" he says weakly.

"Sometimes, in the afternoon, because you're so respectful, I hear you play. And I- I just stop whatever I'm doing and listen to you and- and it's so cool. Your playing is so cool" you stop your ramble, because now he's staring at you and he's making you nervous. He's closer, and closer, and closer. And he's kissing you.

His lips are soft, albeit a bit too wet from all the times he's licked his lips to focus. His hand is on your cheek and it's big and warm and his breath is on you and you just melt into him. Soft kisses, quick kisses.

After what feels like hours, your mouth is open and you're reaching for his shirt, but he stops you, a puzzled look on your face. "Let's save this for another time, sweetheart." He says, and you can tell he's struggling to say no to you "I wanna take my time with you. Maybe after our date?" he gives you a sly smile and you think you have melted into the cushions.

"Can we cuddle, then?" you say shyly and he opens his arms for you to fall in, you take a deep breath. He's warm and smells nice.

"For a handyman you kiss really well" you say, laughing a bit. He jerks his head and quirks an eyebrow.

"How many handymen have you kissed?" his tone is dramatic and you know he's joking.

"None that I am aware of, but y'know, it could be a side job" You giggle.

"I thought I was your guy!" He says with a whine, and he makes you laugh like no man has ever made you laugh before.

“Maybe you can be my guy for real then” you say, smiling, finally holding eye contact with him.

“Yeah, I can be your guy, sweetheart.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut

[moremaybank]

Reader feeling stressed and JJ sitting on the bed, leads you in between his legs and starts fingering you until you squirt

-͟͟͞☆ stress relief with jj...

warnings fem!reader, fingering, squirting, dirty talk/language, praise (PLEASE gimme a jj rn i need him so bad)

jj masterlist

"Baby, I can hear your thoughts from all the way over here."

"It's fine, J. I'm almost done," you say, returning to your assignment. "Five more minutes."

"You said that two hours ago."

You swivel around in your chair, away from your desk to face him. You pinch the bridge of your nose with a huff. "It has not been two hours, J. Don't be so dramatic."

"Has too." JJ taps at his phone and turns the screen to face you. "See? I've been timing you since you said it. Two hours, seventeen minutes and fifty-four seconds."

Your jaw drops, and the guilt washes through you. It feels like it's been ten minutes since you said that at most. School has really been driving you crazy, not to mention juggling work alongside it.

"C'mere. Drop your shorts."

Your eyes threaten to pop out of your head. "What? No! You drop your shorts!"

He cocks his head to the side, giving you a look. "I'm not gonna ask you again. Shorts and panties off, baby."

Once you're naked from the waist down, he motions you over to him, spreading his legs apart so you can sit between them. He brings two fingers to your mouth, silently instructing you to suck on them and get them wet. You gasp when they come into contact with your core, and lean back further into JJ's hold. He then circles your clit softly, starting to warm you up.

"You're wearin' yourself thin, princess. 'M gettin' worried about you."

"You don't n-need to be. I got it."

"I know you do, superwoman," he says. "But that doesn't mean I'm not here to help."

JJ kisses the skin of your exposed shoulder (internally thanking the gods that you chose to wear a tank top), as he tries to soothe you and give yourself over to him fully. He wanted you out of your head and in the moment, well-aware of all the pent-up stress you're holding in. His unoccupied hand cups your breast through the thin and flimsy fabric covering it, feeling your bud perk up underneath his palm.

"Mm," you sigh, your hand coming over his while he kneads the soft flesh.

"Gonna get you to relax, baby. Let me do that for you," he pleads.

You nod, your eyes shutting as his fingers abandon your clit and probe at your seeping entrance. He pushes the tip of his middle finger inside, just enough to tease you but not nearly enough to satisfy your cravings. "Not fair. Don't tease."

He chuckles and it vibrates against your skin. "Fine, but only 'cause you've been working so hard."

He slides in knuckle-deep and coiling into your sweet spot. His fingers work wondrously, and you're melting into him more and more as time passes.

"I love your ambition, princess. Your determination. It's sexy as fuck. But you gotta make time for yourself. Rest is just as important."

Your legs feel woozy, and he quickens his pace. He punts against your g-spot, and he's almost drunk on the sounds emitting from your lips. He wets the fingers of his other hand using his mouth, and they start to rub at your clit.

"J, shit. Oh my god, feels so good," you whimper. "'M gonna cum."

"Let it out, baby. Show me how good you are," he encourages. "You got it, c'mon."

Pleasure it hitting you from all over. It's buzzing in your veins, and your skin feels like it's on fire. And the words being whispered in your ear by your boyfriend are only heightening that pleasure. Having a man that talks you through it works wonders, and if it hadn't happened so many times before, you'd be astounded.

"Gonna feel so good, mama. You're gonna squirt for me, get this entire bed soaked, right?"

That's what does it. You let out a high pitched whine, starting to clamp down on JJ's thick fingers, and your release flows out like you're a broken faucet. JJ keeps milking it out of you over and over. You honestly never thought you could squirt so much, not until this very moment, and the relief is wonderful. It's too much and yet you can't get enough all at the same time.

"Keep going, pretty girl. Bein' so good for me. Bet this feels amazing, right?"

And though you can barely nod for him, your volume-increasing cries are enough to signify that you're loving it.

JJ TAG LIST (JOIN HERE!): @pankowperfection @taintedxkisses @mvybanks @softherveauxs @rafesveryrealgf @dreamingwithrafe @maybankslover @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @maybank-archives @whoisdrewstarkey @aliyahsomerhalder @vigilanteshitposting @poppet05 @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @bbycowboi @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @loverofdrewstarkey @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @em0-b0ysworld @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptheimagines @bloody-mf-bsc @maybanksbabe @sarah5462 @slut4drudy @lvvrgrl @somerandos-world @shahanaazsoumah @peachpitlover @sya-skies @emmalandry @blueicequeen19 @jeyusosgirl @urbestieboo @l1lactheflower @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @gillybear17

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank headcanon #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank brainrot #jj maybank brain rot #jj obx #jj outer banks #obx #obx x reader #obx x you #obx smut #obx imagine #obx headcanon #obx blurb #obx brainrot #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you #outer banks smut #outer banks imagine #outer banks headcanon #outer banks headcanons #outer banks blurb #outer banks brainrot #rudy pankow

[sednas]

['CAUSE HE'S A F×CK BOY ─ s. gojo]

꒰ ͜͡➸ sorry what did you say? oh you want a virginkiller!gojo fic? with enemies to lovers vibes? yeah I might have this one in store for you. smut will be in the second part tho! (which will be posted in one week or five months, who knows! :))

pairing: virginkiller!gojo x virgin!fem!reader

tw: college!au, suggestive themes, virginity kink, (dub-con) make out session, gojo is annoying but hey what's new, sexual tension, light fem masturbation at the end

gojo satoru was the golden boy. the most intelligent student of his class, the most talented sports player of the school, the most popular guy of the campus, maybe even of the whole city. he was excellent at everything. people were too amazed by his talent to notice his arrogance and his condescending smile, too blinded by his bright blue eyes and his snowy white hair.

gojo was the best at everything, and it included fucking. hell, fucking was actually on top of the list. he had a cheerleader waiting for him every night in his room, sometimes he could just wink at a girl and she was already spreading her legs for him in the bathroom a few minutes later. he could have literally everyone, but what he liked best was virgins. he loved them, such good girls who managed to keep their innocence until college. they were always so easy, so pliant.

and the thing he mostly liked to do with them was fucking them so hard that nobody could ever compare after that. he wanted them to think about him every time they would fuck someone else, he wanted them to rub their thighs together while thinking about him years later, this is what he liked to do with them. of course, the thought of ruining them for their first time was also appealing, they were usually so shy and reserved, he liked to take them apart piece by piece, make them drool, and then cry, and then forcing them to look at themselves in the mirror, letting them see how the filthiest version of themselves looked like. and in the end, when they were too fucked to think, he made them say thanks.

and this was exactly what he wanted to do with you.

you were way more difficult than the others, doing your best to ignore his piercing blue eyes, answering by a simple nod of your head every time he was trying to start a conversation, leaving the room every time he was in.

yeah you were difficult, but satoru always got what he wanted.

“all by yourself uh?”

he startled you a bit, and he could see that you were already looking for a way out by the way your eyes were looking at everything but him.

he moved his body to be at the same height as you, looking at you through his glasses, and then he said your name in a sweet voice, smiling when he saw how easily he got you looking back at him, your face obviously flushed.

“finally paying attention to me mh? it's a shame that you don't look at me often, I really like your eyes, they're pretty.”

and he really meant it, you were telling him everything with those eyes, the way you were constantly daydreaming about him, how you were humping your pillow at night, imagining it was his thigh instead. yeah, very pretty eyes.

“I want to get to know ya.” he said with a smile, and he got closer.

he kept himself from laughing when he saw you taking a few steps back and then he stopped, not wanting to make you panic too much.

“here, gimme your phone.”

you obeyed after barely a few seconds, and it only confirmed what he was already thinking; you were wrapped around his finger even though you were trying to hide it.

“mmh cute wallpaper… alright I'm just gonna add my number to your contacts annnnnd… done!” he finally said, his relaxed smile still on his face, handing you over your phone.

he didn't let go of it immediately, making sure your hands brushed against one another, noticing the way your breath got stuck in your throat.

“call me okay?”

one month passed by and you never called, or even texted. gojo felt frustration for the first time in his life, and because of that he was rougher than usual when he was fucking a cheerleader, his thoughts always coming back to you, and the way you were still ignoring him even though you were fucking yourself with your fingers every night while thinking about him. he was starting to get tired of his own game, but still, he wasn't planning on giving up. and so when he saw you standing in the kitchen during that halloween party, a devilish grin appeared on his pale face...

it's already too late when you spot him across the room, his blue eyes are on you. you can barely think of an escape that he's already in front of you, wearing a black tuxedo, a white collar wrapped around his neck and long white victorian sleeves hugging his arms, and making the rings on his fingers look elegant.

“you didn't call me.“ gojo whispers against your ear, his long arms trapping you between his body and the kitchen counter.

you open your mouth but no sound comes out, your eyes try to escape his teasing gaze as you're sure he can see every little detail on your face by standing so close.

“I thought… I thought you weren't serious when you gave me your number.”

he chuckles, noticing how you're even more embarrassed to look him in the eyes when he hasn't his glasses on.

“I like your costume, it suits your body.”

you feel your skin grows hot, his voice so soft and intimate, his eyes trailing on your body from up and down. it feels like you're alone in the whole house with only him. and your heart is racing with fear and anticipation, as you bring your thighs together. gojo notices it, placing his knee between them before you can fully close them, making you gasp.

“so tell me something baby…” he starts speaking in a honeyed voice, his lips coming closer to your ear.

you blink at the nickname, his body weighting a little more on your own, your back uncomfortably pressed against the kitchen counter as your body slowly bent to accommodate to the awkward position.

“are you scared of me or something?”

a nervous laugh comes out of your mouth, turning your head to escape from his warm gaze.

“I'm not scared of you.”

he can tell you're sincere, but it only makes him want to know more.

“then why are you avoiding me all the time uh?”

he tilts his head to the side, eyes burning with curiosity and his teeth flashing at you when you finally look back at him.

“i'm avoiding you because… you're so annoying, and you fuck everyone you know and you're so arrogant, always thinking you're better than anyone else. I don't like you, at all.”

a few seconds of silence pass by while both of you just look at eachother, until a smirk slowly appears on gojo's face.

“I didn't know you were so mean.” he laughed. “but if you hate me so much why aren't you pushing me away right now?” his sultry voice keeps sliding on you like honey, his mouth so close to your skin, breath fanning over your neck.

he's right, and he knows it, smiling even wider when he sees you looking at the ground in defeat.

“that's what I thought.” he smiles, one of his hand sliding along the side of your jaw, the sudden touch making your heart skips a beat.

his pale hand looks good on your skin, you can feel his fingers squeezing lightly your throat and the atmosphere becomes more tense than before, he still has this grin, like he knows everything about you, especially how much you want him to touch you more.

you're a few seconds away from giving up, your body almost falling on the counter to let gojo fully rest on you. somehow his smirk grows wider when he sees you closing your eyes. you let out a little whine when you feel him pressing all of his body weight against you.

“that was a sweet sound baby, mind if you make some more for me?”

despite shaking your head no, you pressed your body against him, hungry for more, finding a new pleasure in being the center of his attention. his slender fingers find their way to squeeze your chest, drawing another whine out of your mouth.

“more…” he orders, the sound of his voice muffled against your skin.

you try to close your lips, in a poor attempt not to give in so easily, but your legs turn to jelly as soon as he puts his soft lips on your neck. one of your hands flew through his white hair as you gasped at this new sensation.

his hot tongue tracing kisses along your neck, he grabbed your hips, bringing you even closer, letting you feel his boner. you feel dirty, intoxicated, but the heat coming out of his body is addictive. you let out another sound and your fingers are now grabbing his shirt in a needy way, trying to get him even closer to you. you want more. you need more.

you suddenly open your eyes when you feel his warmth vanish from your trembling body. you watch him walk away in disbelief while he's wearing a wicked smile on his face.

“I think my friends are waiting for me… it was fun, you should call me later okay?” he winked at you before exiting the room without letting you have any time to react.

you're left here, breathless, blood pumping into your veins, eyes clouded with desire, a pool of arousal between your legs. your hands clench into fists, of course he did it on purpose.

your eyes are fixated on your phone as breathless sighs keep coming out of your mouth.

"fuck!" you let out an exasperated groan, throwing your head back into the soft pillows.

your fingers are still trying to reach that spongy spot inside you, you arch your back, lifting your hips in the air, hoping it will allow your fingers to touch deeper parts. but you're left unsatisfied again, your legs twitching in frustration. your head hit your pillow and your eyes go back to your phone.

"he would fuck me right." you mumble to yourself.

part two

jjk masterlist

a lovely reminder that reblogs and comments are highly appreciated ♡

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru smut

[hischierdevils]

Doin' You Right | Q.H.

notes: I have nothing to say for myself

summary: y/n overhears Quinn having a conversation and gets a little hot and bothered

warnings: nsfw, slight breeding kink, talks of babies

wc: 1.7K

You might think I'm crazy

The way I've been cravin'

If I put it quite plainly

Just gimme them babies

The fact that you and Quinn made it out of your apartment to meet his teammates at a bar in downtown Vancouver should’ve been a feat in itself. You’d been craving him all day, since the conversation you overheard that morning, but you only got scraps of attention here and there as the day went on. He had team practice, a workout, and then when he got home he got on a facetime call with his family. 

You were getting ready for your night out when he finished up with the call and he gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before getting in the shower. You had picked out your shortest, tightest dress on purpose, hoping he’d get the hint when he saw you all done up. He visibly swallowed as he stood by the door when you walked out of your shared bedroom. 

“You look beautiful.” He told you before kissing your forehead, not wanting your lipstick all over his mouth. 

You give him a tight-lipped smile. You were hoping for hot or sexy. Maybe even, you look way too good to leave right now, let’s go back to the bedroom. “Thanks Quinny.” He was looking absolutely delicious in jeans, a black t-shirt, and a backwards hat on his head. His hair stuck out at the back and all you wanted to do was run your fingers through it. 

He kept a hand on your thigh the entire way to the bar and if he noticed you clenching your legs together the entire time he didn’t say anything. You greeted his teammates and the other wags when you walked in but you stayed glued to his side for most of the night. 

“Baby, don’t you wanna dance?” Quinn nudged your ear with his nose as your favorite song came on. You were sitting in his lap while he talked to Elias, sipping on a drink. 

“I’m fine here.” You answer as you turn your head to look at him. 

He looks down at you with concern as his arm tightens around your waist. “What’s wrong?” 

You take his free hand and place it on your thigh, just below the hem of your dress. “I want you to touch me.” Normally you wouldn’t be this bold in public, especially in front of his teammates, knowing how shy Quinn is sometimes but you can’t help it. You’ve been patient all day and the alcohol is only making you crave him more. 

“What’s got you so needy, baby?” He whispers in your ear as he slides his hand closer to the inside of your thigh, feeling the goosebumps rise on your skin. 

You spread your legs almost involuntarily, wanting to give him more access to you. You turn your torso so you can kiss his jaw. “I heard what you said to Jack this morning.” 

His hand stills from your confession. “I thought you were sleeping. How much did you hear?” 

You were sleeping until you felt Quinn leave the bed. You thought he was just going to go to the bathroom and then return for more cuddles but he didn’t. Five minutes later, you heard him in the bathroom talking to someone. You weren’t concerned until you heard your name. “I’m going to marry y/n, Jack.” You started listening intently after that. “Mom’s been helping me look at rings, yeah. No, she’ll be such a good mom. I’d get her pregnant right now if she’d let me.” You stopped listening after that, knowing you shouldn’t have eavesdropped at all. 

“I wanna have your babies, Quinn.” You whisper in his ear before kissing his neck. 

“Fuck, let’s go.” He’s pushing you off his lap so you can stand up before you have time to register what’s happening. He doesn’t bother saying goodbye to anyone as he leads you out of the bar. 

Baby, you might need a seatbelt when I ride it

I'ma leave it open like a door, come inside it

Even though I'm wifey, you can hit it like a side chick

Don't need no side dick, no

Your ride home is much more enjoyable now that Quinn is just as needy as you are. You tease him the entire way, palming him over his jeans as he drives you home. He runs his hand up and down your thigh, getting a little higher each time. 

“I’ve been so wet for you all day.” You admit as he unlocks the door to your place. He pulls you inside, pushing you up against the wall as he locks the door.

“I want to taste you.” He drops to his knees in front of you, pulling your dress over your hips. “No panties?” He grins before running a finger over your soaked folds. You jolt from the contact and moan in pleasure. 

“Mmm need you so bad, Quinny.” You grind down on his hand as he sticks a finger inside of you, already so close to the edge. 

“Patience, baby.” He chuckles before taking your left leg and hooking it over his shoulder. “Be a good girl and make all those pretty noises for me, hmmm?” 

He doesn’t have to ask because once his mouth is on your sensitive nub, you wouldn’t be able to stop the sounds that fall from your lips. He’s still wearing his hat and you promptly rip it off of his head so you can put your hands in his hair as he circles your clit with his tongue. You’re barely able to form a coherent thought as he inserts a finger inside of you again. 

“Fuck, babe…” You drop your head back against the wall as you tilt your hips up to meet the thrust of his hand. You’re going to have a beard burn on the inside of your thighs tomorrow but you could care less right now. 

Quinn reaches around you with his free hand to squeeze your ass. “Let go, y/n.” Hearing him say your name snaps the last thread of control you had and you cum all over his face as he licks you up. 

He sets your shaking leg back on the ground and stands up to kiss you deeply, hands gripping your face tightly. “You did so well, pretty girl.” 

“I need you…” You push at his chest, pushing him into the closest room which happens to be the kitchen. “Inside me, now.” 

Quinn grabs a chair from the table as you undo the button on his jeans and pull them down his thighs. His erection springs free as you pull down his boxers and you quickly put your mouth on it, circling his thick member with your tongue as you bob up and down. 

“Fuck, y/n. Just like that.” He groans as his hands tangle in your hair, guiding your head up and down. You moan on him, vibrating his dick, and a string of curses leave his mouth. Pulling him out of your mouth with a loud pop, you gently push him toward the chair so he sits down. 

“Are you sure?” He asks you as you straddle his hips, ready to sink down on his bare dick. “I can go get a condom.”

“I’m sure, Quinn.” You look him in the eyes as you rub yourself along his length. His eyes nearly roll back in his head as he puts his hands on your hips. “I want you to fill me with your cum.”

Quinn reaches down between your bodies to line himself up at your entrance and you both moan as you sink down on him. “You’re so big.” You murmur, telling Quinn you need a second to adjust. He gives you time, pulling at your dress so you’ll lift your arms up. He pulls it over your head and quickly throws it to the floor before undoing your bra. 

You start to move on him as he squeezes your nipples between his fingers. “Oh my god.” You place your hands on his shoulders as you lift your hips and then grind back down on his dick. He’s hitting just the right spot and your rhythm soon turns sporadic as you feel yourself getting close again. 

He kisses you as his hands move to your hips, keeping you still so he can fuck up into you. “You’re going to look so good with my babies inside of you, y/n.” He’s panting in your ear and you can tell that he’s close. “Gonna fill you up so good.”

“Please, Quinn.” You tangle your hands in his hair and push his face into your chest as you grind on him. “Cum for me.” Your vision blurs as your second orgasm takes over your body, and you collapse into Quinn’s chest. 

“Fuck.” He snaps his hips into you and then stutters as you feel his warm release coat the inside of your womb. He kisses the side of your head as you both come down from your highs. 

You such a dream come true, true

Make a bitch wanna hit snooze, ooh

Can you stay up all night?

Fuck me 'til the daylight 

“I love you.” He tells you after you’re both silent for a moment. 

“I love you too.” You say softly before kissing him. “I need to clean up.” You blush as you get off of him and his cum starts to roll down your leg. 

“We’re not done, baby.” Quinn smirks as he stands up and steps out of his pants and boxers. “I need to make sure there’s babies in there.” He rests his hand on your flat stomach before kissing you again. 

You let him lead you to the bedroom, surprised that he’s still hard. He usually needs a little bit before he can go again. As soon as you get a knee on the bed he’s pushing your face down into the pillow. “Hope you’re ready to go all night, y/n.” 

You press your ass into him as you look at him over one shoulder. “I hope you can keep up, Quinny.” 

He slaps your ass as he enters you from behind. “You better cancel all of your plans tomorrow, baby. You’re not going to be able to walk.”

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic #Quinn Hughes smut #smut #my writing

[weaksspot]

early seasons bath time for @demongirlmeg :-) (read on ao3)

Dean’s arm is fucked up, worse than just tape-a-plastic-bag-over-it-and-shower-anyway fucked up—his wrist and several fingers got smashed pretty bad and a whole lot of skin got torn off when he was dragged what felt like a hundred miles an hour down a stretch of asphalt by a screaming spirit, so now he’s all wrapped up in splints and bandages and a course of antibiotics to counter any infection from the god damn dirt and gore that got smeared into the road rash—and Sam is trying to wrangle him into a bath.

Because of course they got the motel room with the busted shower, and of course there aren’t any other rooms available. Of course they got the last one.

“You cannot get into bed like this,” Sam’s saying, in that voice he uses when he thinks Dean’s being bratty. “You’re filthy and you stink, Dean, and you have to let me clean your face up anyway. You’re still bleeding.”

“It’s a head wound. Head wounds do that,” Dean says, churlish. He knows he’s whining but he can’t help it; he’s woozy from the adrenaline of the hunt ebbing out of him and from the painkillers the nurse gave him. The side of his face is glowing hot where the skin is all raw. He had to let Sam drive them back to the motel. He wants to go to sleep.

“Look—I’ll put fucking bubbles in it, if you want, but you need to take a bath.”

Dean groans.

“Dean.”

He looks up at Sam, standing over him, his too big baby brother, arms folded and eyebrows raised.

“I’m serious.”

“I ain’t a stray dog.”

“Well, you smell like one,” Sam says, and reaches out and gets his hands under Dean’s arms to haul him up, and there’s no fighting him.

The bathroom is blurry with steam, the air hot. Sam crouches down and unties Dean’s shoelaces for him and then looks like he’s about to go for his belt too so Dean kicks him with his socked foot, scoots him back across the tile a little bit and Sam just snort-laughs and says fine, if you think you don’t need my help. Dean fumbles his belt and jeans open himself, one-handed, and waits for Sam to slide round and face the other way before he actually strips. It’s not that he’s self-conscious. Obviously not. Sometimes it’s just—sometimes it’s just.

He makes it to the bathtub all by himself, leans hard on his good hand as he lowers himself in. It’s almost too hot. Just this side of bearable. Sam looks over again when he hears Dean sink up to his neck, groaning. His fucked up arm dangles useless over the edge of the tub, now and then producing a warm throb of pain.

“Good?” Sam sounds so pleased with himself, the little fucker. Dean closes his eyes and lets the water lap at his chin and doesn’t answer.

Sweetheart that he is, Sam sits there quietly and just lets Dean soak for a good five minutes before he says anything else. But then what he says is: “I’m gonna wash your hair.” Dean’s eyes snap open, and he stares over the side of the tub as Sam shifts onto his knees and shuffles across the scant space.

“I don't need you to wash my damn hair,” he says, but he takes so long to say it that Sam is already shrugging out of his flannel, leaning his elbows onto the edge of the bath. Dean surreptitiously closes his legs where they’d been splayed open, mindlessly comfortable.

“You gonna do it yourself, with one hand?” Sam has his eyebrows raised like he’s being perfectly reasonable. Dean scowls at him.

“Of course I can do it with one hand,” he grumbles. “Just—” he struggles into sitting up a bit more, skin squeaking on the plastic, and sticks his hand out. “Gimme some soap.”

“Shampoo,” Sam corrects him. One eyebrow goes a little higher than the other.

“Whatever. Jesus. They’re the same thing.”

It’s the heat of the water, and of the torn skin, that’s making Dean’s face so warm. Not how close Sam is, kneeling there fully dressed while Dean’s just. In here.

“No they’re not,” Sam tells him, all calm, but there’s a bit of pink in his cheeks, too. In the tip of his nose. He’s the only person in the world that Dean’s ever seen who blushes in the tip of his nose, like he has a cold.

Still—Sam produces a little travel bottle of shampoo, holds it up and squeezes a blob of it into Dean’s hand like he’d asked, and then sits back and watches the ensuing pathetic attempt to scrub it into his hair. He does it, but, Jesus—with the painkillers and the ache in his shoulders and sheer exhaustion, it’s hard. Dean drops his sudsy hand into the water and lets his head clunk back against the bath and glares at the ceiling. Shampoo trickles into the scraped up side of his face, and it stings.

After a minute, Sam says, “You gonna let me help?”

“No,” Dean mumbles. Then he closes his eyes again, and says: “…fine.”

There’s some quiet shuffling beside him, and then Sam’s hand, gentle, on his forehead. Smoothing his hair back, and then—scrubbing, at the crown of his head, just like Dean does himself every time he washes his hair but God, it feels real different when it’s someone else. When it’s Sammy. Dean drops his chin to his chest, eyes tight shut, teeth pressed together, but he can’t do anything about the shiver that goes through him when Sam’s nails scrape softly behind his each ear, over the nape of his neck. A fingertip running along the curve of his ear where blood had stuck and dried.

“Okay?” Sam asks, real low. Real close.

“Shut up,” Dean whispers into his knees.

“Put your head back,” Sam murmurs, and Dean does but slowly, reluctant, eyes still closed. One of Sam’s big hands comes up to cup his hairline, keeping the shampoo from getting into his eyes, as he scoops up palmfuls of water with the other to rinse it out. It’s so careful, so gentle, and it’s exactly what Dean used to do for him when he was little, too little to do it himself. For a second he can’t breathe quite right.

Sam’s hands fall away and Dean opens his eyes. His brother is just sitting there leaning on the edge of the tub like everything is fine and normal, except that his face is almost as red as Dean’s own is.

“We used to do this the other way round,” Dean says. “I used to wash your hair.”

He feels lightheaded. From the painkillers, probably. The adrenaline. The way Sam is looking at him, too steady. Sam’s t-shirt is damp and sticking to his chest. “You had so much damn hair. Never let anybody cut it ’cept me, and when I did you used to scream bloody murder if I snipped off more than the tiniest goddamn bit.” He’s rambling. He shuts his mouth.

Sam is smiling, just slightly. There’s a little smear of blood across his left cheekbone and in this light his eyes look dark. “I remember.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Sam nods. Still looking at him with all that focus. Dean watches him suck his lip between his teeth and feels his dick twitch. He looks away. Breathes out slowly.

“Dean.” Sam’s voice is low and rough.

Dean shakes his head and doesn’t look at him, can’t look at him, because if he does—if he does. He lifts his not-fucked hand out of the water and rubs it over his face, squeezes hard at his temples. “If I don’t get out of this tub in a minute I’m gonna pass out and drown.”

His brother doesn't say anything for five unsteady breaths. Dean counts them, for something to concentrate on. Then he moves, stands up, and Dean keeps his eyes forward, right forward, does not even think about how if he turned his head he’d be at just the right height to—

“I’ll get you a towel,” Sam says, and Dean swallows the spit that's gathered under his tongue, and mumbles, “thanks, Sammy.”

#mine #fic #i hope it's ok!!! i wanted so bad for them BOTH to get in the tub but i couldn't quite make it happen. somehow. #maybe next time though because.. yum #ended up with less contact more UST instead lmao #my fic

[miyuhpapayuh]

17. Meetings.

A week later.

"I'm glad she apologized to you. She doesn't like admitting when she's wrong." Stevie laughs, fixing the collar on Rod's shirt.

Both Stevie's parents and Rod's mom decided to finally sit down and get acquainted. The pair were a little apprehensive at first, but figured now's a better time than any.

"She's funny. I didn't notice that, when I first met her," he jokes, earning a rough smack on his arm.

"You and these jokes." She heads over to her full length mirror and smoothes her hands over her crème colored pants and fixes the collar on her silk, olive button-down.

"What shoes should I wear?" She asks, kneeling down in her closet.

"I know you wanna wear heels, so grab the black ones." She laughs and grabs the shoes, sitting at the foot of her bed.

"Gimme your foot, girl." She hands him a shoe and he slides it on her foot, lacing it up just the way she likes, before doing the other.

Pulling her to her feet, he smooths his hands over her bone straight hair. "You look beautiful." He kisses her forehead.

"Thank you, handsome. I might have to fight a bitch with how good you look, though." He chuckles, pulling her to him by her waist.

"No need for all of that, babygirl— as much as I'd love to see you beat some ass." She rolls her eyes and gives him a once over; dark green dress shirt, black slacks and matching dress shoes.

"You should let me dress you, more often."

"Why, so we can match all the time?" He asks.

She hums a laugh, shaking her head. "No, silly. You just look really good."

"You comin' at the way I dress, girl?" He asks in faux hurt.

"Boy," she rolls her eyes and grabs her clutch, walking out of the room. "Come on."

"Don't walk away from me, girl."

"You're being annoying." She heads downstairs.

"I listen to you, when you're being annoying." He throws back as she starts laughing.

"We're gonna be late and you just keep on playing."

"Keep on and ima make us real late." He throws her a wink.

"Ugh," she unlocks the door and pushes him out of it, grabbing her key off the table to lock up.

Forty-five minutes later...

"What's taking them so long?" Victoria asks, taking a sip of her champagne.

"The traffic's pretty bad out there," Viv adds, "I'm sure they'll be here, any minute."

And soon enough, the couple come waltzing into the restaurant, still bickering like a married couple as they approach the table.

"Hush!— hey, guys!" Stevie greets everybody with a hug and kiss.

Rod hugs his and Stevie's mom and watches as Stevie's dad stands to greet him. "It's nice to see you again, son." Gene holds his hand out for Rod to shake.

"It's nice to see you again, too." They shake hands and take their seats; Stevie across from her mom and Rod across from her dad, while his mom sits at the end of the table, right beside him.

"Sorry it took us so long. The traffic was backed up on main." Rod explains, fixing the collar of his shirt.

"That's what I told them," Viv adds.

"You did." Gene replies. "So, kids... how's everything?"

"Everything's good. School's good,"

"Job's good," Rod adds.

"We're really good." They both smile, subconsciously.

"Awww," their moms coo, causing them to laugh. Gene offers a soft smile, seeing his daughter shine with happiness.

"Six months in, yeah?" He asks.

"Yes sir."

"You love her?"

"With all my heart," he pats her knee, "I really do."

"You love him?" He nods in Stevie's direction.

"He aight." She giggles, covering her face as Rod gives her a stale expression. She pats his arm, shaking her head.

"You know I love you, boy!" She says through her laughing fit.

The waiter comes to the table, making his way around for everybody's drink order.

"How's the poetry coming, darling?" Viv asks Stevie.

"I actually wrote a couple pieces, a few days ago. This one keeps encouraging me to get on stage, but—"

"But, what?" Gene asks.

"I don't think I'm ready. You know how I was the last time I got on a stage. I completely choked."

"Stevie, you were twelve." Victoria adds. "That was almost ten years ago."

"Right, and I puked my entire life in the girls' bathroom."

"Was that really the last time you were doing your poetry?" Rod asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Performing it, yeah. I have the worst case of stage fright."

"Why didn't you tell me? I feel like I've been pressuring the hell outta you, now."

"No, don't do that. You didn't know."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asks, again.

"Well, I just started opening up about my writing. It's not that easy to just come out and talk about it. It's a personal thing for me."

"Well, I'm glad that you're letting me in." He leans to kiss her cheek, causing the butterflies in her stomach to swarm like crazy.

"You two are so in love, it's insane." Victoria exclaims, watching her daughter's face flush a slight red.

Stevie softly rubs her thumb against the back of Rod's hand, smiling like an idiot.

"Cut it out, please." 

The waiter comes back with everyone's drinks and begins taking their orders, giving Stevie a slight break.

Fortunately for her, the attention is placed on Rod.

"If you don't mind my asking, what are your plans for the future, just in general." Gene asks.

"Well, I'm currently assistant manager at Lee's, but I plan on being bumped up to manager before I'm twenty-five."

"Why a hardware store?"

"When I was little, I used to always be the one to help my mom around the house. Unclog drains. Watching the professionals fix the pipes and the gutters and it always fascinated me."

"Your father wasn't around?"

"Dad.," Stevie warns.

"It's fine, baby, it's just a question." Rod assures her. "And, no.. he wasn't around."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but from what I see, you turned out great, without him." Rod gives a flat smile in return, pulling at his collar.

"Thank you, sir." He looks over at his mom, who's still got a smile on her face.

"I'm proud of you." She says.

"Thanks, ma."

Stevie glances at her mom, who's full on staring at her with a weird look in her eyes.

"Ma... you okay?"

"Are you pregnant?" Stevie's eyes almost pop out of their sockets as Rod looks between the two, with an equally surprised look on his face. Viv brings her water up to her lips.

"What?"

"Cause, you definitely have the glow going on... your hair is very shiny, too. You look like I did when I was pregnant with you."

"I'm n-not pregnant." She stammers.

Gene's stern eye catches Rod, but quickly softens as a look of panic washes over the young man's face.

"Are you sure? You did say that you felt nauseous last week." Rod adds.

"I'm positive.. besides, we're not ready for a child— we're still children, ourselves!" She whisper-yells.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything." Her mom quickly apologizes.

"No, ma. It's fine."

"You think he'll like me?" Rod asks, driving down the street per her direction.

"Yes, babe. He's gonna love you, simply because I do." She hums as her thumb glides over his jaw.

"Okay.," he sighs, slightly gripping the steering wheel. She stares at him with a furrowed brow.

"Are you nervous?" He comes to a red light and glances at her.

"Honestly? Yeah."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I guess, meeting the parents is one thing, but it's a different ballpark when you're introduced to someone who's like a grandparent to that person. That's major pressure."

"Awww, baby! That's so cute!"

"Ugh," he groans, turning into the neighborhood.

"Relax, okay? You'll be fine, I promise."

"Okay."

Silence fills the car, yet there's a question that's been on his mind, since they left the restaurant.

"Vie,"

"Mhm?"

"Are you sure you aren't pregnant?" The concern in his voice causes her throat to dry up.

"I don't know. I haven't taken a test yet."

"Why not?"

"I'm scared." She looks over at him and back out the window, sighing as he brings the car to a stop, near an empty driveway.

"Why'd you lie to your mom, then? Aren't you two supposed to be working on patching things up?"

"We are. I just don't need her in that part of my business. If it turns out that I am, then we'll have that conversation, but for now, she doesn't need to know anything."

"Okay." He continues driving. Stevie frowns as he pulls into Joe's driveway, cutting the car off.

"Rod?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you ready for kids?"

"I will be if you turn out to be pregnant, but if you're not ready, then it's okay. We can wait."

A tiny tear falls, but he wipes it away. "Don't cry, Vie. You wanna talk about this later?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry." She gives a slight laugh and wipes her face. "I didn't mean to make that decision for the both of us— we just never talked about it."

"You're right, we haven't. But, it's okay." He opens his door and hops out, heading over to her side and helping her out of the car, before locking it up.

"You ready?" She asks.

"Wait," he gently grabs the side of her face and presses his lips against hers. Her hand covers his own as she smiles against his lips.

"What was that for?" She asks as he pulls away.

"Just cause, I love you more than anything in this world." He holds his hand out for her to take.

"You're gonna make me cry, again! I love you." She giggles as they head up the winding sidewalk to the front door.

"Is this his house?"

"His daughter's." She replies, before knocking on the screen door.

The door opens and the deep bellowed hey causes Stevie's hands to stretch towards the heavens at the sight of her former manager/non-related grandpa.

"Joe!" The six foot something, olive toned man wraps her up in his arms as if they haven't seen each other in a lifetime. Rod smiles at their interaction.

"It's been so long, dear. You look great!" He compliments.

"So do you!" Moving back beside Rod, she latches onto his arm and cheeses, widely.

"Ah, so this is the reason for the glow, yeah?"

"If I had a dollar for every time I've heard that, lately, I'd be rich. Joe, this is my boyfriend, Roderick. Rod, this is my favorite old person, next to my grandma."

Rod chuckles, extending his hand towards Joe, who gives it a firm shake. "It's nice to meet you, sir. Stevie's told me all about you."

"It's good to meet you too, son. We've had plenty of conversations about how madly in love she is."

"Joe!" Stevie covers her face as they head inside and sit around the quaint dining table.

"Sarah made a cake. It's buttercream. Would you like some?" Joe asks, pulling the glass dome off the pretty white cake.

"Sure!" Stevie replies, watching as Joe goes into one of his drawers and hands a knife to Rod, throwing him a look.

"Cut that pretty girl a nice slice, would ya?" Stevie giggles as Rod does so, laying it on the awaiting plate that Joe pulls from his cabinet, sliding it across the table to her.

"Thank you, baby."

"Anything for you." He smiles and sits next to her, draping his arm around the back of the chair.

Stevie cuts into the cake with her fork and sticks a piece into her mouth, humming at how good it tastes.

"This is so good!" Joe places the dome back on the cake and sits across from them.

"I'm glad you like it, dear," he turns to Rod, "you didn't want any?"

"I'm not big on sweets, like that."

"Yet, you snatched up the sweetest woman in the world." Joe laughs, shaking his head.

"That was a good one," Rod admits, chuckling. Stevie joins in on the laughter.

"You two look like you went to see the queen— dinner with your parents, huh?" Joe gives Stevie a look that makes Rod choke.

"Cut it out. She's trying to do better."

"I'm sure you're holding her to that.,"

"Hanging it over her head, like a dark cloud." Stevie blinks, eating more of her cake.

"Taste it," she cuts a smaller piece and holds it up to Rod's mouth, "please?"

Without hesitation, he allows her to feed him the sweet cake. She smirks as his eyebrow lifts, meaning that he likes it.

He shakes his head as she swipes the icing off his lip and secretly licks it off her thumb.

"What do you do for a living, Rod?"

"I'm an assistant manager at Lee's hardware store."

"That's impressive. You wanna move up to manager some day?"

"I wanna own it, someday... but, manager's cool, too." They share a laugh.

"That's mighty big shoes to fill, young man."

"I'm ready for it, whenever God gives me the opportunity."

"A man of God, too? You're good in my book."

"My mama raised me right."

"She sure did. How long have you two been together?"

"Six months." The smile that spreads across Rod's face makes Joe's heart warm.

"You'd think it was six years with a smile like that," they all stand once Stevie finishes her cake and goes to put her plate in the sink, "Keep making my Stevie happy, okay? I wouldn't wanna have to rough you up." He laughs, giving Rod a playful punch to the arm, half-serious.

"You have my word, sir." They slap hands just as Stevie returns.

"What were you two talking about," she asks with a curious look.

"Nothing but boring man stuff, baby girl," he wraps her in a bear hug as she comes closer, "I'm glad you stopped by to see your grandpa Joe. I know you've been busy with school and work."

"I'll always make time to see you, Joe," she gestures toward Rod, "Now I'll be bringing this knucklehead to keep me and Sarah from driving you crazy."

"Thank you!" They share a laugh, and Joe walks them to their car.

"Take care, you two," he waves them off, and they make their way back to their side of town.

Two weeks later.

"Am I gonna see you later?," Rod asks his girlfriend while on his break.

"Yeah, babe," she replies cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder as she laces her sneakers, "Me and Tyler are just going to the mall because she needs an outfit for this date she has tomorrow night."

"Can we make sure he ain't crazy?"

"Shut up, Roderick!"

"Chill, vie. I'm just joking."

"Yeah keep on, and it's gonna be you and that big ass bottle of Queen Helene tonight."

"Please, you know this dick is your best friend."

"Boy, you are so nasty!"

"Am I wrong, though?" He waits for her response, to which he's met with silence. "That's what I thought."

She could hear the smirk on his face through the phone, making her roll her eyes to the back of her head.

"Them things gon’ pop right out ya head, baby." She equally loved and hated just how well this man knows her, and they aren't even a year in.

She settles on a simple whatever as a response.

 "I love you, too mama. See you later."

"Later," she hangs up as Tyler bounds down the steps.

"You finished talking to loverboy?" She asks, pinching Stevie's side.

"Yeah. Imma fight him one day."

"Yeah, naked." She bursts into laughter, Stevie hitting her with the stalest face.

"Let's go broad, before I change my mind," she pops her ass, walking to the front door.

Four stores in, and while they both have a couple bags, Tyler hasn't found what she deemed the perfect outfit, yet.

Coming across a fairly new store they have never seen before, Heaven’s Closet, Tyler stops in front of the window perking up at the looks on the mannequins she sees.

 "Oh, we gotta stop in here!"

"I'm right behind you, girl."

Tyler grabs several options and Stevie follows her to the fitting rooms in the back that are big enough to fit the both of them.

Every look was gorgeous on her. Stevie loved them actually, but even she could tell they weren't Tyler.

"What's going on with you, Ty?"

"What do you mean?"

"These outfits, girl."

"I thought you liked everything, so far?"

"Yeah...for me. I mean, Tyler...a black, cashmere sweater dress that goes past your knees, a navy, long-sleeved jumpsuit?? Navy?? Pants?? For a date? Tyler Camille, do you have a fever?" Stevie places the back of her hand on her forehead.

"Girl gone somewhere!," she laughs playfully, swatting her hand away, "I get it. I'm just not tryna be so...extra with it, I guess."

"Ty, baby, I could look up extra in the dictionary and see a catalog of your pictures. Where's this coming from?"

Tasha hooked up to a bunch of machines clinging on to dear life.

"I mean...we all gotta grow up at some point, right Stevie? I can't just be the party girl, the good time girl my whole life, can I?" Her eyes are fixed on her hands as they fiddle with the hem of an olive cable-knit sweater she was wearing, not believing the words she allowed to come out of her mouth.

Neither did Stevie.

"Tyler, how long have we been friends?"

"A long time," she responds, her eyes remaining downcast.

"Right. So, can you talk to me like I'm your best friend?," she pleads softly.

She remains silent for a beat before muttering phrases that sounded like she was trying to talk herself into it. She lets out a harsh breath as her eyes start stinging involuntarily. "Shit!," she curses under breath, hating it when she cries.

Stevie softens further when she sees the dam her friend built start to crumble in front of her, but she stays seated, allowing her the space to get whatever it is out on her own.

"I did-," she clears her throat, her voice coming out lower than she intended, "I did a lot of thinking, soul searching when Tash got into that accident...seeing her lying there. The constant beeping let me know she was alive, but...she looked so cold. She looked nothing like the girl I knew. All I could think was, what if she never woke up?” The crack in Tyler's voice makes Stevie's heart crack just the same.

"What would I do? Who would I be anymore? So many people I've lost or could've lost throughout my entire life just hit me all at once and I couldn't--I couldn't take it. So I ran. One of the most important people in my life needed me and I left her." She slid down the large mirror, putting her head in her hands. "Tasha didn't deserve that. Tia doesn't and neither do you. I don't know how I'm gonna do it, but I can't be that person anymore, Stevie."

"With help," she sniffles, joining her on the floor. Linking their hands she continues, "you're gonna do it with help from me and everyone else that loves you. Okay?" Tyler nods in understanding, and Stevie brushes away her tears with the back of her fingers.

"Let's get off these people floor before somebody thinks we're crazy." They laugh, getting up from the ground and making sure their faces are clear.

She ends up choosing a lilac two-piece set with deep purple, strappy block heels to go with it. Pleased, they hit the food court for Chinese.

Since Tyler knew what they both wanted, she got in line while Stevie picked a table. She plucks her little anniversary gift from her bag, and flips to a fresh page, a new poem flowing from her mind with ease she called, 'Mended'.

She feels a presence before she sees the face it belongs to, but she doesn't need to because the same uneasiness from the coffee shop fills her.

"Fancy seeing you here, Stevie." She never thought her own name would sound like a curse to her ears, but here she is.

She finishes the line before she looks up.

"Can I help you?" She tries her best to keep the fear from her voice and replace it with annoyance.

"Maybe." He smirks, and it feels sinister. "You should let me take you out."

She'll play in traffic before she goes anywhere with him.

She flips her hair with the hand her ring is on and palms her chin.

"My boyfriend already does that."

His brows raise, but he otherwise seems unfazed.

"Hmm. I hope he's on his job. Anybody would be willing to come in and take your pretty self for themselves."

"He'd kill them first," she smiles, full of venom keeping her voice light.

"Hm. My kind of guy." Something about his tone makes her cold to her bones, but she hides it well.

"Mine too. Now I think you should leave."

"Damn. Mr. Boyfriend don't let you talk to anybody."

"My friend said leave, bruh." Tyler walks up with their food, placing it on the table. He looks up at her amused, "English not your first language? Skedaddle, playa."

He raises his arms in mock surrender and walks off.

“Who the hell was Fredro Starr with dreads?," she asks when she sits down.

"I don't know. He came into the shop one day. Now I see him again here. He gives me the fucking creeps."

"Me, too girl. I don't like him. I say you tell Rod. Men are crazy."

"I think I might," she responds.

She really doesn't like this guy.

@blackerthings @thegifstories @sheabuttahwrites @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @ghostfacekill-monger @soufcakmistress @twistedcharismaaa @blowmymbackout @chaneajoyyy @abeautifulmindexposed @awerkofart

#soulff #miyuhpapayuh #poc writers #blackwriters #black romance #rod x stevie #black fiction #black writers #stevie x rod #joey bada$$ #joey badass fic

[mortemersgf]

Hi I don't know if I'm characterizing Beckett correctly but he seems like someone who would be really soft with his partner and would show a sweet side that others typically don't see right?

What if you wrote a fic where he's cuddling or just spending some sweet time with a partner (is female! reader okay?) and they get interrupted by the rest of the Pend Pals that are surprised?

Thanks!

The warm August weather sends a soft breeze filtering through the windows, gently rustling the curtains. In the distance, you hear Aster shrieking with delight as Zeph yells, “Cannonball!” Shreya screeches for Atlas to ‘get away from her’ while Griffin laughs uncontrollably, endeared by the sight of his friends letting loose and having fun.

Vacations at Shreya’s lake house are always filled with raucous laughter and endless shenanigans, most of which you would participate in on regular bases. It might be the blazing sun or the food you ate this morning, but a pesky headache has rendered you rather sick and unable to join in on the fun. Instead, you’re curled up on the velvet sofa, resting your head on Beckett’s chest. Being the darling boyfriend that he is, he refuses to leave your side, wanting to make sure you’re taken care of.

You wish you had more energy, but the heat and the pain leave you disjointed and unable to cast a Blood magick spell to take the headache away. You simply lay there in Beckett’s arms, letting him stroke your hair and your back.

His touch is soothing and light, and despite the fact that it’s only five in the evening, you find yourself growing drowsy. It doesn’t help that he’s speaking in that saccharine tone to distract you from the irksome throbbing in your head. Beckett has a soothing voice in general, one that’s able to induce sleep in you within minutes.

He’s speaking about some recent advancements made in portal magick, and you hum absentmindedly, groaning as you shift to get some blood circulating in your arm that’s fallen asleep.

“Sure you don’t wanna go take a swim?” you mumble, glancing up at him.

“I’m quite sure, my love,” he says, “I want to spend what little alone time we have together.”

“Even if it includes cuddling with your sick girlfriend?”

“You say that as if I would ever turn down the opportunity to be with you, indisposed or not.”

You laugh, charmed by his comment. “Well, if you’re certain… c’mere, gimme a kiss.”

He tilts your head up, cupping your cheek with one hand to meet you in a sweet kiss. Satisfied, you settle back into your original position, murmuring, “Keep talking about portal magick.”

An hour passes by like this, your limbs tangled, laughter on your lips. By the time the sun sets, you’re asleep.

The rest of Pend Pals pad into the living room, still giddy from spending the day on the lake. Beckett pins them with a death glare and a finger to the lips, and they halt at the sight. A beat of silence passes between them.

Beckett grows pink. Aster coos quietly while Atlas pushes past everyone to get to her room, making an exaggerated face of disgust as she passes by. Zeph and Shreya hold back giggles, and no doubt a slew of teasing comments, as Griffin smiles fondly.

Moments later, they all disperse to prepare dinner. Atlas reemerges from her room with a blanket and tosses it at Beckett wordlessly, gliding away to pester Aster for scraps of food. Beckett straightens out the blanket and settles it atop you, brushing your hair to coax you back to sleep as you mumble incoherently.

The sound of a camera click goes off. Beckett’s head snaps up. Shreya gives him a pointed look, smiling when she says, “What? You guys look adorable. I’ll send it to you.”

She’d better.

a/n: hii anon tysm for the cute request!! i had fun writing this one :3 you characterized beckett perfectly, he’s a big softie when it comes to his s/o!

taglist: @mm2305 @holystxne @simpforbeckett @itsjustwinter @theclassycandy @sylviefilms @bluebellot

#choices #playchoices #beckett harrington #the elementalists #choices beckett #beckett fanfic #choices the elementalists #choices stories you play #pixelberry #request

[crashdevlin]

Permission Granted 3- Too Much

Author’s Note: This is the third chapter of Permission Granted, the first part of To Have it All. This is Open...from Jensen's side!

Summary: Jensen tries to do the right thing, but sometimes the right thing is too difficult.

Pairing: none yet, eventual Jensen x Reader

Word count: 6757

Story Warnings: Y/n's poor self esteem, Jensen's sexual imagination, mentions of an open marriage, mentions of depression, mentions of cheating, mentions of drinking to deal with depression

~~~~

I don't think I've ever put in the effort to befriend someone the way I put it in for Y/n. And I mean 'befriend'. That was the whole plan. Friends was the only thing I was going for, but the more time I spent with her, and I made sure to spend as much time with her as possible over the next few weeks...the more time I spent with her, the more often I was fantasizing about her. It was a bit embarrassing, actually. We'd be sitting at craft, having a nice lunch. I'd say something to make her laugh and then I would spend five minutes in my head thinking about her smile. Jared would make her turn shy by teasing her about Tara's on-camera flirting, she'd hide her face and I'd start thinking about how that innocent energy would translate into the bedroom.

And speaking of Tara, when she flirted with Dean, it was like Y/n was flirting with me. Every time, it fueled my fantasies. Hearing her call Dean "Pretty Boy" and "Handsome" and fuckin' "Cowboy" was so good because I knew that I was never going to hear Y/n say those things to me. 'Cowboy' was a personal favorite, and I made sure to let the writers know they should make that Tara's go-to nickname for Dean.

Y/n didn't flirt with me. Y/n still turned into a stuttering mess just talking to me sometimes. I would sit there, watching her freak out about the Pam-level flirting Tara had to lay down, wondering what it would be like for her to actually flirt with me. It would be something completely different than what Dabb and the boys in the writers' room put down. It would be sweet and wonderful. It would be uniquely Y/n.

I started flirting to try to get her to flirt in return and I tried, believe me I did, to keep the flirting to the same friendly manner that I flirt with Jared and Misha and Christian. But with her, it never came out that way. With her, it seemed…like too much, maybe. And maybe that's why she stopped hanging with us after a few weeks; I was too pushy. God, that was like a suckerpunch, though. First time I invited her to have a drink after work and she said 'no'? I was about two steps from demanding an explanation as to why. She didn't owe me an explanation and I knew that but it took Jared grabbing my phone out of my hand and holding it behind his back for me to register that.

"Ackles, she's allowed to say 'no'. She can do other shit," Jared reminded.

"I fuckin' know that, man, but she-" I reached around to try to grab my phone but he twisted away from me. "Gimme my phone!"

"Only when you promise not to call her or text her demanding a reason for her politely declining your invitation."

"Fine!" He raised his eyebrows and I let out a huff of a sigh. "I promise I won't demand anything out of her, okay? I'll just tell her that I'm sad she won't be there but I understand she can't always come out with us. Okay? Now gimme my phone."

"You can't get that upset just because she's got other plans," Jared said, handing my phone back.

"Well, she doesn't know anybody else in Vancouver so how could she have other plans?" I asked, my neck heating up at the thought of her meeting some Canadian dude and making plans with him instead of me.

"She's nice enough. Cute enough. Maybe she met a guy who-"

"I'm trying not to think about that possibility!" I hissed as I typed out a text expressing my disappointment at being declined.

"Hey, she's our friend now, isn't she? New friend but still. Shouldn't you want her to find some happiness? Way she talks, and doesn't talk, about her ex-husband...she probably needs something good."

He was right. Of course he was, but even though I couldn't give her anything, because holy shit that would be so bad, I still didn't want to think about her finding something good with someone else.

"She hasn't met anybody. She told us when the barista remembered her name a few days ago. She would have said if she'd met somebody who asked her out."

Just for good measure, I added "Hope your plans are more fun than ours" to the end of the text before I sent it out.

"Wow, is that denial or wishful thinking?" I rolled my eyes and started to walk away toward the wardrobe trailer to drop off the dirty Dean clothes. "Seriously, why don't you talk to Dee? I'm sure you could get her approval on-"

"Jared, stop." I turned to him and shrugged. "We talked about this. She's not gonna be around long enough to be worth the risk in even asking to start something with her. She's a fan. She's a friend. I can't see-"

"What if Dabb keeps her around? And what if Creation brings her in on the conventions? She'd be around a lot then, right? Would she be worth asking, then?"

I sighed and licked my lips. "Yeah...maybe...I don’t know. She's...she's…"

"Driving you crazy and we can all see it," he said, laughing.

"Shut up." I rolled my eyes and started walking to Wardrobe again. "Why are you pushin' so hard for this?"

"Because you haven't been getting any and you're a bit of a grump...and you're moving from 'grump' to 'asshole' and no one wants that. I love you, brother, but you get a bit hard to deal with when you're not-"

"Okay, okay, I'm not that bad," I argued.

"You practically growled at Misha yesterday when he asked you to get him a coffee," he argued back. "You nearly threw hands with Dabb over a line of dialogue in the newest script."

"Dabb's an asshole and Dean would give the damn kid a chance, okay? Only time he wouldn't was when he had the Mark of Cain. And Misha has legs, he can get his own coffee and fuck, you're right, I'm being an ass but who says it's because I'm sexually frustrated?"

"Me. And Danneel...because if it's not that, then you need to get your hormones checked because you're going through male menopause, old man."

I turned to him again, glaring up into his face. "I'm not old and I'm not going through menopause. I've just...shut up." I had nothing to say. He was right. Jared knows me better than almost anybody.

"Well, maybe you should buy a Fleshlight...or get better at masturbating."

I rolled my eyes as he laughed. "Seriously, shut up."

~~~~

Y/n kept avoiding me. For a little over a week, every time I tried to get her to hang out or have a drink, she declined. I bit my tongue to keep myself from throwing a fit over it but it made me feel like I’d done something wrong.

“Did I do something? Has she said anything to you?” I asked Jared as she sent me another kiss-off text.

“No. She seems okay with me, though. We had lunch earlier while you were-”

“Are you kidding me?!” I exclaimed, trying to keep my anger to a minimum. “What did I do? Why is she avoiding me?”

“Maybe she’s uncomfortable with how you flirt with her,” Jared suggested.

“I flirt with all my friends!” I scoffed. “I mean, I flirt with you. I flirt with Misha. I flirt with Chris and Kim and Bri and…” I licked my lips and looked away. “I flirt with everyone. It’s just lighthearted fun.”

“But it might be different for her. She’s shy, Jay, and you are an attractive man that she still gets nervous just talking to. You can’t flirt with her like that.”

“Yeah.” I hated that he was so right about every aspect of the situation with Y/n. “Yeah. You’re right. I will...stop flirting with her. Keep it professional.”

“Don’t keep it professional; just keep it friendly.”

“Yeah. Okay. Um...I’ll fix this. I’ll fix it. Can you…” I cleared my throat and smiled at him. “Can you invite her to hang out on Thursday? We’ll have a few drinks, live tweet the premiere, and I will not flirt. Just a couple friends and a couple drinks.”

His eyebrows went up. “‘Just a couple friends and a couple drinks’, huh?”

“Don’t get that look. I’m gonna be a friend. Nothing else.”

“Sure. Your trailer?”

“Yeah. My trailer. I’ve got the better recliners.”

He nodded and pulled out his phone, walking away as he tapped out a text to her. I wasn’t jealous about the way she immediately responded to his text with a smile emoji and acceptance of the invitation. Not at all.

I made sure to stock the trailer with several kinds of liquor and beers and bottles of water. I ordered pizzas and snacks. Jared was in my trailer for half an hour, chuckling about me trying to clean up despite the fact that I had already cleaned the place. Y/n showed up fifteen minutes before the East Coast showing, wearing a cute pink blouse and a pair of tight jeans that hugged her hips just right. I had to stop myself from making a comment about the way she looked, directing her to my favorite recliner and handing her a Cosmic Cowboy.

“You tweeting the West coast premiere or just East coast?” she asked, getting comfortable.

“Both,” Jared announced, flopping into the second recliner. “We’re usually working on premiere nights but they gave us tonight and half of tomorrow off. We are partying!”

“We’ll probably be shooting ‘til four in the morning tomorrow to make up for it but tonight we are going to enjoy ourselves.” I sat on the right arm of Y/n’s seat and looked down at her. I was trying to keep my distance a bit, but I still wanted to be near her. “So where’ve you been? You’ve been a bit of a ghost the last week or so. Are you okay?”

She pursed her lips a bit and nodded. “Yeah. Just homesick.”

I understood that. Homesick was where I lived. I reached out to pat her shoulder. “Yeah, I get it. You never get used to it but it does eventually get a little easier. Facetime is your best friend.” I pulled out my phone to show her my Facetime app, but thought better of it. She was right there next to me...we needed to have a picture. “Picture time.”

She immediately ducked out of the way, escaping the selfie. “No, wait, what?!”

I chuckled at her reaction. “Oh, come on. Your television debut is about to air. We need documentation.”

She leaned back into the shot and Jared leaned our way. I took a pic and smiled as I tapped out a tweet, attaching the picture and tagging Y/n in it.

“You didn’t say you were documenting on Twitter!” she shrieked when her phone went off to let her know I’d tagged her.

I put on a grumpy face, but I was smiling inside at her reaction. I leaned down closer to her, careful not to take on a flirty tone. “We’re live tweeting,” I reminded her.

“Yeah, the premiere, not the party!”

“You are just determined to not enjoy this fame thing, huh?”

She looked all shy again and shook her head. “I just...I know how this could go, ya know?” I knew exactly where she was going with this. “I am not looking forward to seeing a bunch of hate on my Twitter feed or...ya know, the ‘who the hell is this chick’ stuff. I was just…”

I nudged her shoulder with my elbow. No real contact. “Hey, lil’ Miss Fortitude...we’re here to support you. Some fans are gonna hate it no matter what we do.”

“Can’t please everyone. It’s an important lesson. Don’t hold back just because you’re afraid someone’s gonna hate it,” Jared offered.

She needed to see herself for who she really was. She really did think that people were going to hate her. I didn’t understand why she thought so poorly of herself. Honestly, I thought she was one of the most amazing women I ever met. So, as I watched the episode, tapping out tweets about what was happening on screen, I was trying to think of ways to do something about that self esteem of hers.

She didn’t seem to like the Cowboy much, so when she finished the beer, I got up and made her a Vodka Cranberry.

When a new set showed up on the screen, I looked over at her. “This you?”

She nodded and hid in her drink as her scene played. Her acting was perfect, moving seamlessly from sweet to serious, berating the teen witches about their lack of determination. I looked over at her, discreetly, as we watched and her eyes went so damn wide. I swear she wasn’t breathing the entire time she was on the screen.

“That was amazing,” she finally said when it went to commercial. “I was on TV!”

She seemed really happy and I loved that. “See? Hold onto that feeling, Baby Girl. Who gives a fuck if the fans like you? We like you,” I said, wrapping my arms around her and hugging her tight.

She loosened up a bit after that, I guess from the adrenaline of her performance, and she loosened up a lot more as the alcohol hit her. I won’t lie that I was happy to keep providing her drinks: Tequila Sunrises and Vodka Cranberries. I liked the way she was smiling and laughing and joking with us as she got drunker. I didn’t even think about the fact that she had to be sober enough to get back to her motel room...until Jared pointed out that it was 2am and we needed to get some rest before we made it back to the set at noon.

Watching Y/n pull her keys out of her purse made me step forward and wrap my hand around her wrist. “No.”

“What? I’m fine to drive,” she argued, before stumbling over her feet and grabbing the back of my recliner to stay standing.

“You are not. You are way too drunk to drive, Baby Girl, so you’re gonna get in the SUV with me and Jared. Clif can drive you back here in the morning,” I demanded. I waited for her to nod and put her keys back in her purse. The look Clif gave me when I helped her into the back seat of the SUV was like he knew exactly where my fantasies were leading me. The look Jared gave me when he got out of the SUV at his condo, leaving me and Y/n alone, said he was going to have a talk with me the next day.

I was so close to doing the right thing and telling Clif to take her to her motel...but then she laid her head on my shoulder and snuggled close to me on the back bench, muttering under her breath about how good my cologne smelled and the right thing just flew away. “Hey, Clif, just drive us to my place,” I said, quietly.

“Sure.”

“I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I didn’t say anything, Jensen.”

“Well, keep not saying anything.”

Clif opened the door for me and Y/n and told me to text him when it was time to head out in the morning. Y/n stumbled as we got into the elevator, so I wrapped my arm around her waist. As I was holding her to my side, helping her into my condo, it became completely obvious that I could not keep things professional with her. I couldn’t keep things friendly. I wanted her...so badly.

Of course I wasn’t going to do anything that night. We were drunk, very drunk, and I hadn’t even broached the subject with Danneel. That was the rule: Dee approves or nothing happens. But I wanted her...so I had to start making it happen.

“No, no, you don’t wanna sleep on the couch, Baby Girl,” I said as she sat down on the couch. “Your muscles will hate you in the morning. I got a big bed.” I offered my hand and she took it without comment, getting back to her feet and following me to my bedroom. I took her shoes off and helped her into my bed, before grabbing a pair of sweatpants and heading into the master bathroom to change. I slipped into the bed on the opposite side. She was already asleep...or passed out might be more accurate.

I slept for about three hours before the movement of her sitting up woke me. I knew she might be confused, probably a little drunk still, so I rolled over and put my hand on her shoulder, pushing her to get her to lie back. “We don’t gotta be at work ‘til noon, Baby Girl. Sleep off some more’a that tequila.”

She sighed and turned away from me, snuggling into my extra pillow. “‘Kay, but if your wife puts a hit out on me, I’m blaming you.”

I slipped my arm around her and pulled her against my chest. Just a little bit, get closer to her. “Trust me. Dee isn’t the jealous type,” I whispered.

I fell asleep holding her, my hand over her ribcage, just under her breast. I wanted more. I wanted to know what she felt like, what she sounded like. I wanted to know what she tasted like. But I would have to settle for my hands staying in neutral zones and my dick staying in my pants...for a little while.

When she woke up again, maybe prompted by my morning hardon poking her in the ass, she immediately rolled out of my bed and rushed out of the room. I stretched and grabbed clothes for the day, walking into the bathroom to get a shower. The erection went away without me having to take a hands-on approach. I brushed my teeth, put some of the Tom Ford on, and grabbed one of my watches out of the watch box. I called Clif, who said he’d be there to pick up me and my ‘girlfriend’ in ten minutes. I rolled my eyes and told him to keep that shit to himself.

I found Y/n in my kitchen, drinking a glass of water. “Clif’ll be here in about ten minutes. He’s gonna drop us by your motel so you can get showered and changed. How’s your hangover?” I asked.

“Oh, I don’t have one,” she said, dismissively. I could not believe that shit. “I drank a lot of water last night. You’ve probably got Nestle bottles strewn across your trailer. I always make sure to drink twice as much water as alcohol. It stops the headache and light sensitivity. So I just end up a little sick to my stomach, which can be remedied with Dramamine and a good sandwich.”

I was surprised by that wisdom coming out of this young woman. “Wow. You know how to drink.”

“Yeah, well…” She looked down at the floor and licked her lips. “I used to drown my depression in rum, so…”

That sentence hit me with a pang of empathetic sadness. “You’ve got depression?” I asked quietly. Jared’s got depression. Some of the best people I know have it. They don’t deserve to feel like that.

“Not Chemical Depression. It’s Situational. My old therapist was very specific about that.” She took a shaky breath before she continued. “When I get low, I get really low. It was at its worst when I was married...so I had five years of really low.”

There it was. Jared said it: she didn’t talk about her ex. I walked over and leaned against my fridge, arms crossed over my chest. “Yeah, ya know...you talk about your daughter all the time, but you barely ever mention her father. What happened there?”

She was obviously uncomfortable and unhappy to think about it, but she licked her lips and moved on with the conversation. “He was...ya know, he was my first real relationship. My only real relationship, actually. We married young. I told you that I was twenty when we got married. Well, Nate was only twenty-one. He wanted a woman who would worship him and...for a very long time, I did.” She cleared her throat, seemed like she was fighting back tears. “But he hurt me...emotionally. I was miserable for years and I couldn’t even tell for a long time. That pain became my normal.”

I didn’t even know what he’d done, but I could see the weight on her. It suddenly clicked for me, the self-esteem problems she was fighting. Whatever he’d put her through, it broke her self-worth.

“It was honestly the best thing that could have happened to me when he left me for...this friend of ours.”

“Shitty friend,” I said.

She nodded once, obviously fighting more tears. “You are not wrong.”

I didn’t want to make her feel self-conscious about letting her walls down, so I turned to get a cup of coffee and tried to make her smile. “You don’t seem like the type to worship a guy. You don’t even worship me and I’m totally worth it.”

“Oh, you’re the closest I’ll ever get again, Ackles. But back when I met him, I was different. I was…” She sighed. “I was fat and I honestly thought I was the ugliest chick in town and I hated myself and the fact that this guy was paying attention to me, saying that he loved me...I wanted so badly to keep that feeling that I ignored all the bad feelings.” I wish I’d known her back then. I wish I could have helped her see herself. “He kept me low on purpose, and as soon as I wanted to better myself. As soon as I decided that I needed to be a strong woman so that my daughter would be one, he stopped wanting me.”

“What, because he knew you were gonna realize what an ass he was as soon as you came out of the darkness?” All I could do was wonder what sort of man would do that to a woman. Any woman, really, but definitely a woman as great as Y/n.

I could see her nod from the corner of my eye. “That’s the theory.”

I turned to her and smiled as bright as I could. “Well, look at you now. Bet he’s kickin’ himself.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m on TV now. I’ve got almost ten thousand Twitter followers. My star is on the rise,” she joked...but I wasn’t joking.

I set my coffee on the counter and turned to her. “Not what I mean. The person you were when you married that jerk, she never would have sent that audition video in, would she?” She shook her head. “You never would’ve been able to befriend Jared and me. You never would have ended up part of this family. If you were still with him, you'd probably still be overweight and depressed and self-medicating with alcohol. You woulda only touched this world at the conventions."

She shook her at that. "Not even that," she disputed. She let out a little scoff. “I never did anything for myself when I was with him. He could buy Legos and trading cards and a thousand dollar special-import Playstation, but I couldn’t...I always looked at the cons, but I never went to them. Not just Supernatural cons either. Everything.” She licked her lips and ran her hand over her hair. “You know me well enough now that you know I’m a fairly well-rounded geek and I never went to a single convention until Nate left me. Not a single one. When I wasn’t worrying about taking care of him and his wants and his needs, I was able to finally do something great for me.”

Her smile went wide and bright. “That con in Atlanta was life-changing. I did things I never would have when I was married. I drove five hours, by myself, to a city I had literally never seen. I walked a mile and a half from my hotel to the con hotel and back, alone, every day.” She laughed an intoxicating laugh. “I walked to that bar in the dark and actually got up the nerve to talk to two guys that I looked up to. I talked to people at the con that I’d never met and I made friends. I got up and sang karaoke in front of two hundred people and I fucking rocked it.. It was like I was the old me again. I had the time of my life...which is what prompted me to go after the other things I wanted in my life...and that’s how I got to meet you.”

That convention made everything happen.

“Well, I’m glad you did it. You deserve to be here.” In my life, in my condo, in my bed.

My phone went off, Clif letting me know that he was waiting in the parking lot. “Clif’s here?” she asked.

“Yep. Let’s get outta here.”

~~~~

Her motel looked nasty even from the outside. I’d heard horror stories, but I hadn’t seen it myself...so when she got out of the truck, I followed her. “So, this is your temporary pad, huh?”

“Yep,” she said, grabbing clothes from the aged wood wardrobe. “Don’t snoop, Jensen.” She disappeared into the bathroom as I started looking around.

“If I snoop, what am I gonna find?” I called.

“A shrine to Misha! Leave it alone! It’s a GISHWHES item!”

I scoffed and shook my head, walking over to her wardrobe and looking through her clothes. “You’re ridiculous!”

“I think you mean ‘abnosome’!” she said as the shower turned on. Another one of Misha’s made up words that caused me to laugh. He’d be so happy.

I kept looking around her room, finding bits of fandom stuff and dead bugs and a picture of a cute little girl smiling in a frame on the bedside table, before finally coming across a familiar white cap. I chuckled as I ran my fingers over the many metal buttons with Supernatural characters and actors on them. I fitted the cap on my head and waited for her as she finished her shower. When she opened the bathroom door, I could see pillows in the tub. She wasn’t joking about the bed bugs. Nasty.

"I don't know how to tell you this, but I'm pretty sure this looks better on me," I said, turning to the mirror behind the TV.

"Of course it does," she agreed. "Everything looks good on you."

"Not sure how I feel about the buttons, though."

“If you don’t like it, don’t wear it!” she exclaimed, jumping to grab it off of my head. Not that she could reach it., especially when I ducked back away from her.

“Nah, I’m gonna hold onto it. Gotta make sure you don’t ghost again. I’ll give the hat back when I’m sure you’re not going anywhere.” I nodded at the door. “Come on, Clif’s waiting.”

She got her shoes on before we headed out to the SUV. She looked cute, in her completely plain clothes and her pink and black sneakers. She looked out the window as we drove toward the studio, biting that bottom lip. Shit, that made me wanna know what that lip tasted like.

She was stuck in her head, I could see it in the way she was chewing on that lip. I couldn’t help wondering what was going on in her head. “You okay, kid?”

“Um, yeah. Why?” It was the first time she didn’t take offense to me calling her ‘kid’. She was definitely in another world.

“You just look like you’re deep in thought is all.” My eyes found her bottom lip and I smirked a little. “You gotta stop bitin’ your lip, Baby Girl. You’re starting to bruise.”

She gasped as her hand shot to her mouth. She immediately pulled her phone out to look at herself in the selfie camera. “Shit. They’re gonna love this in the makeup trailer. Might have to actually put lipstick on Tara.”

“I kinda like it,” I admitted, licking my lips. “Makes it look like you had a lot of fun last night.” I wished she had the kind of fun I was thinking of.

“Well, considering I went home with a married man last night, Ackles, that may not be a good thing. Don’t encourage the rumor mill."

She was right about the rumor mill, but damn, I wanted to do something worth a rumor. I was good at staying out of the tabloids. I knew how to be discreet, but I wanted something with her.

"I think I'm gonna talk to Dee," I told Jared as soon as we were alone, riding toward Abbotsford to shoot the Chicago episode.

"'Bout damn time," Clif said from the front seat.

"She's only been here a month! Shut up!"

Jared laughed and slapped my chest. "Yeah, it's been a month of you pining over her."

"I have not been pining. Who says 'pining'? This isn't a medieval romance. I was trying to be her friend, okay?"

"You were trying to be her friend so you wouldn't have to admit how much you wanna bang her," Jared accused.

"That’s not why I was trying to be her friend!" I shook my head. "Dude, she is...she's got no self esteem. She has no confidence. She's amazing and she doesn't see it, so I thought if I made friends...if someone she admires was able to see her worth...maybe she'd be able to."

"Right," he agreed. "But you also wanted to bang her."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, so? That's not why I made friends with her."

"So, what's the plan? How are you gonna butter her up?" Clif asked. "And how are you gonna butter up the Missus?"

"Danneel doesn't need butter. I'm just gonna ask her to look into Y/n and tell me what she thinks." I looked out the window at cars passing in the opposite direction. "Y/n will be harder. Assuming Danneel gives me permission to pursue it, convincing Y/n that it's real and everything...convincing her to sign up to be my dirty little secret is gonna be...really difficult and I'm not even sure how to make it happen."

"Wow. You sound almost nervous, Ackles."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm trying to not be an asshole. Asking a great woman to be your sanctioned side chick is...not the easiest thing to navigate. I mean, Isabella was-"

"Not anything like Y/n."

"Yeah. I mean, Y/n thinks my marriage is perfect. She said that shit last week. She might not take this-This might destroy her opinion of me and Dee. I don’t know if I want-” I threw my head back onto the headrest. “Shit, I shouldn’t even do this”

“Yes, you should. You need to at least try, right?” Jared said, turning to me fully. “Look, I’m not gonna tease you anymore right now. Gonna be serious. Y/n is shy and sweet and she will never turn you down. Never. The very idea of you being sexually interested in her is going to be mindblowing to her. But...you have to approach it softly. You have to get her completely comfortable with you before you even bring it up to Y/n...or it’ll be too much.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Jared kept talking. “She is so enamored with you but she gets really uncomfortable when you flirt. So you have to calm that down, approach it softly. Keep workin’ her, but do it with more tact.”

I licked my lips and pulled my phone out, opening my text chain with Dee. “More tact, huh? I’ll try.”

>>When I get done here, I’m gonna call you. Try to stay awake, please, babe.

By the time we got to location, she’d responded with an I’ll try! I went to find Y/n as soon as I got out of the truck and I found her running her hand over the hood of the quieter Impala, looking at it with all the love and admiration that beautiful car deserves. “Stop pretending you haven’t sneaked over and drooled over Baby before,” I said, walking over to her. I put my hand on her back, between her shoulder blades because that’s not so bad. It’s not too much. It’s not overwhelming.

“No, I have,” she admitted, turning and looking up at me. “I’ve just always admired the Impalas from afar. You know how the props guys are about the cars...a lot like you are.” She turned and leaned against the hood. “I get to ride in her. Like...seriously? That’s so amazing.”

“Did you ever imagine just how much sex has happened in the back of this car?” I asked.

She looked down with all of that adorable shyness before pulling herself out of it. “Don’t misquote my character to me, Ackles.”

I laughed a little. “I wasn’t talkin’ ‘bout the show. How many actors or crew members do you think have been in this car after dark just to mess around in the Impala?”

Her face went from shy to innocent in a flash. “I don’t know. How many times have you opened the door and smelled sex?” That innocent thing was an act. Had to be.

It took a few seconds to count them out in my head. “Half a dozen or so.”

“Why are you smirking? Did I miss something?” she asked, and her innocent mask almost fell apart on her.

“Ya know, sometimes I am completely baffled at how innocent you are...especially for a chick who’s got a kid at home.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips all indignantly.

“Well, you always act completely oblivious when I try to bring up sex in conversation. You pretend like I just asked you what color your shirt is or something...and let us not forget the fact that you woke up in my bed today, and you didn’t even make a joke about morning wood.”

“You think that’s probably by design, Ackles?” I don’t know why it seemed so much less fun when she called me by my last name. Jared had been doing it for years but out of her mouth, it hit a bit wrong. Probably because I wanted to hear her call me 'babe' or 'honey' or…'cowboy'. "You talking about sex forces me to think about you and sex. So for the sake of my own composure, I shut that shit down as fast as fucking possible."

She was too shy to think about me having sex and I was literally daydreaming about having sex with her. Crazy world. “Aw! Somebody’s embarrassed!” I teased, laughing out loud. “Man, I’m gonna get you to flirt back eventually. Tara shouldn’t be the only one who gets to make comments about my ass.”

“Oh, come on!” she shrieked, practically running away from me.

“What did I say, dude?” Jared walked over as she found herself in front of Misha in full Cas garb. “Tact, Ackles! Tact.”

“I…” I hummed and nodded. “I’m tryin’, Jare. It’s just not fuckin’ easy with her. She’s just so...she’s this mix of innocent and...she’s so shy and I just wanna crack open that shell and…”

“Chase her away?”

“I’m not trying to chase her away! I’m just…” I looked over my shoulder at her and Misha. “I don’t know. I can’t not flirt with her. I have to keep trying but...I really wanna see what it’s like when she flirts back.”

“She’ll flirt back when she’s ready. She’s not ready.”

“Right.”

He patted my back and pointed toward the alleyway we were going to be shooting in. “Focus on the job for now. Come back to it later.”

I did what he said, focused on the job and not the way Y/n was flirting so heavily as Tara, not the way she looked so cute sitting on a barrel and kicking her feet. I focused on the job...and so did she, but as soon as we cut for dinner, she was in her head. It seemed like she was doing her best to avoid looking at me, but every time I caught her actually looking at me, I could see where her eyes were...on my lap. I felt a bit of elation at that. Something finally got through.

“She’s thinking about my morning wood,” I whispered to Jared.

“What?!” she exclaimed. “No, I’m not!”

“Jay, leave the poor girl alone.” Jared’s words were soft, just a little bit of a warning on them. Maybe he could see that I was starting to break through to her, I don’t know.

“Yeah, Jay. Leave the poor girl alone,” she agreed with a big smile. That, I liked. Not a large group of folks call me ‘Jay’ and hearing her pretty voice on that single, simple syllable was awesome.

“But she’s so cute when she blushes.” She ducked her head, obviously blushing more. “See? Isn’t that adorable?”

“Oh, screw you, Ackles,” she snapped, the fire in her cheeks moving to her eyes as she glared at me. Not back to ‘Ackles’.

“That an offer? ‘Cause we got some time before we start shootin’ again and-”

“Oh, shut up, you giant child.”

“Hey, you’re the one who keeps checking to see how giant I really am.”

“Oh, my god!” she squeaked, covering her face with her hands. “Jared, please control your boy,” she begged from behind her palms.

He chuckled and smirked, taking a drink of his iced coffee. “You know you’re talking to the wrong guy if you want to control Jensen, right?” He gestured between us, but gave me a high eyebrow. “Because I’m finding this whole situation hilarious.”

She pulled her hands away and looked over at him. “Some friend you are, Padalecki.”

“Oh, he’s a great friend...to me.” I shrugged and winked at her. “I got thirteen years on you, Baby Girl. J-pad is always gonna have my back.”

She stood up and stuck her tongue out at me before stomping away. Pretty tongue. Long, pointed...I wanted to taste it.

“And she called you a child?” Jared commented.

“Nice long tongue though,” I responded, picking up my coffee cup.

“Tone it down,” Jared whispered. “You’re gonna chase her away again.”

“Still too much?”

“Yeah. Just a bit,” he answered, pointedly. Yeah, it was a bit more than a bit, but...what could I do? “She’s sensitive.”

“Yeah, some folks don’t like to be teased so much, Jay,” she said, sitting down.

There it was again. ‘Jay’. I really did like that a lot. I couldn’t hold back the smile that broke out across my face. “All right. I will tone down the teasing. I’m sorry, kid.”

“Okay. Forgiven.” She smiled back and her whole face lit up and my heart just sang over it. “And I’m still not a kid. The other thing is okay, but I’m gonna get upset if you keep calling me ‘kid’.”

“Oh, the other thing’s okay?” Jared asked. “You’re cool with ‘Baby Girl’, but not cool with ‘kid’?”

“Baby Girl makes me think of Criminal Minds. Derek Morgan always called Garcia ‘Baby Girl’. I like it...but ‘kid’ is like...like I’m less than because I’m younger than you?”

“That’s absolutely not how I mean it. Not how I’m usin’ it, I promise.” I licked my lips and leaned forward. I’d have to stay away from ‘kid’ for a while, because I didn’t want her to even think that I saw her as less than. “I just like nicknames and ‘kid’ seemed to be a good one, but I don’t see you as anything less than me.”

She looked down again, but a smile found its way onto her lips. “Okay,” she whispered. I was getting through her shell.

The Kitchen Sink Tags- @flamencodiva @sacriceria @lyarr24 @440mxs-wife @nancymcl @mariekoukie6661 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @cosicas-cuquis @queenoftheunderdark @myheartbelongsintz @squirrelnotsam @akshi8278 @muhahaha303 @agirlwithdemonblood @this-is-me19 @mrswhozeewhatsis @leigh70 @maliburenee

#cassie writes stuff #spn rpf #jensen x reader

[arcplaysgames]

Kawakami continues to be my stealth fave. When Operation Maidwatch started, I fully planned to skip it entirely because lets be real, the set-up was horrendous. Then I figured that'd be less funny so I decided to try it For The Bit.

So fucking glad I did.

Kawakami is in the hospital after collapsing from overwork. And what do you know but the people blackmailing her show up to say howdy and while she is still in bed ask her when her next payment will be.

fuck stealing their hearts, i'm gonna steal their car and drive it into a river

I.... think the implication with "sister company" is transferring from the maid gig to full sex work? Which: I'm pro-SW 'til the day I die but this ain't the way, Kawakami, the way is getting these fuckers off your chequebook.

btw for the side-quests, I love when Reverie is just like "Gimme a full name. Thanks. The Phantom Thieves will handle it." LISTEN. I DON'T CARE. If Ryuji can walk around singing his self-made Phantom Thieves theme song, then Reverie can be an intimidating weirdo to random people.

BOY THE PENULTIMATE LOVERS LINK SURE IS JUST REVERIE THIRD-WHEELING HUH

this was so fucking funny, Ann and Shiho are having a serious heart to heart and Reverie is just here as extra muscle to help Shiho with the stairs.

I'm very glad to finally see Shiho again though I assume it will be for the last time.

WHEN I TELL Y'ALL

I FUCKING SAT ON THIS DECISION FOR LIKE FIVE MINUTES

because I do like Ann a lot! probably more than any of my options so far except maybe Tae, but I don't like her that way, but maybe I would like her that way if I gave her a chance? UGH it's agony but I went with the Just Friends route.

EVEN THOUGH "YOU HAVE ME" IS SOMETHING A FRIEND WOULD SAY SO I LITERALLY HAD TO LOOK UP THE LOVERS CHEATSHEET TO VERIFY WHAT IT MEANT.

Ann, you are still best girl, though admittedly you finally have competition.

I did wrap up Ann's Confidant.

As far as the Lovers go, hers is the weakest to me personally. I would rank them Yukari > Rise > Ann. But I think this is because I don't.... understand Ann's life goals. Which may be just my blind spot personally. Ann's dream of becoming a supermodel to inspire people falls kind of flat because I think modeling is an important job and career but I don't.... connect it to like.... inspiration and stuff?

It's so odd it feels like I'm missing something.

But Ann herself, I adore. I would rank her as honestly one of the kindest people in a Persona game, genuinely good-hearted and just seeking a way to harness that.

New Persona for Ann! Hecate!

Yusuke visited like every other day in summer vacation, so I got some premium hangout time and managed to max his Confidant out too.

AND LEMME TELL YOU SOMETHING

YUSUKE SHOULDA BEEN THE FORTUNE. He makes zero fucking sense as the Emperor. There is nothing about him or his arc that lends itself to the Emperor, but BOY HOWDY does his arc spin 'round and 'round like a perfect wheel.

After some more artist's block, Yusuke finally puts together a piece for the exhibition run by that one jerk who wanted to package and sell Yusuke like a brand. He takes first place!

TURNS OUT THAT THE WHOLE BRANDING THING WAS A FUCKING RUSE. The guy truly was invested in Yusuke's success as an artist and came up with the whole branding thing to get Yusuke angry and get his head in the game.

THE WHEEL FUCKING SPINS AND SPINS.

I'm so fucking annoyed that he's the Emperor, I just don't see it, it makes no sense. Better options were WAITING.

nah only when the game lets me flirt with you even though we're not allowed to kiss. I adore you, Yusuke.

New Persona Get and WAIT NO GO BACK ugh why is it Susano-o AGAIN? And this Susano-o doesn't look NEARLY as cool as Yosuke's. 8C I will miss Goemon and his cool pipe. 8C

wait is this just disneyland. /googles. lmao the Maihama station is right next to Disneyland. ahahahaaha

I will be boycotting this destination for the entire game! 8)

what else did I do outside the MSQ.......

OH YEAH I'm allowed to hang with Sojiro again finally!

TURNS OUT THE GUY HASSLING SOJIRO IS FUTABA'S FUCKING UNCLE

he wants money or he'll file for custody for Futaba (where he'll have an upper hand as he's a blood relative and Sojiro is not)

Futaba actually shows up to bully Sojiro for some food and immediately freaks out at seeing her uncle.

When Wakaba died, Futaba got handed around between her relatives for a while and ended up with severely neglected by her uncle. Then Sojiro stepped in and adopted her.

Like with Kawakami's blackmailers, I want to wreck some havoc on this bastardman.

Sojiro truly is Best Dad, I'm with y'all on this at last. Sojiro, please adopt Reverie. That should be the no-romance end for Reverie, he just gets adopted by the Sakuras.

I FINALLY got my courage high enough to talk to Iwai the fake(?) arms dealer? AND NOW I THINK I'M DOING CRIMES? i mean uh more crimes. additional crimes. like smuggling weapons?

also like. The Solid Snake/Iroquois Pliskin vibes off this guy, he looks and feels like he just got back from the Big Shell and is laying low until Philanthropy is ready to take out another metal gear.

However unluckily for him, he's also my literal favorite card in the Majors, the Hanged Man, the card I am the most particular about, so he's pretty much doomed to disappoint me through no fault of his own. Because I'm the only person who actually Understands the Hanged Man, you see. Just me.

Okay that sums everyone up, back to the MSQ.

#p5 #persona liveblog

[nobody7102]

Bestie?? I was wondering if I might be able to share a thought with you about Bob and his dad? (I do wanna apologize for the second half of the Ben Mears ask I sent I few days ago and if I ever do that again please.....for the love o Jesus, hit me over the head with a bamboo rod, lol). I've been seeing alot of thoughts about both the elder and the younger Pullman and it's making my brain go nuts, especially if Bob's dad was also a Top Gun pilot. I also heard a rather gruesomely funny story from our dear friend, Glen Powell, about an incident that occurred while filming and thought it might make you laugh.....so here goes.

So I have it in my head that Joe Floyd (Bob's dad) was in the same class as Goose, Maverick, Ice and the others and flew quite a few missions with them. He also earned the apt nickname "Foul-Mouth Floyd" (because some of the shit he says would probably have a Marine Corps. General rolling in his grave) and his callsign, "Rabbit" because him and his wife Irene had already had seven other kids with Bob being their youngest.

It was 1992, Joe was fresh off a mission in Kuwait and took a job as a flight instructor at Top Gun. Him, Ice, Mav and a few others were in charge of training new recruits who are as green as you can get and I mean GREEN. Joe's already dealing with enough at this point, the kids wreaking havoc at home and Irene being five months pregnant with Bob, so imagine his frustration when he gets stuck with an arrogant little prick fresh out of the Ivy League colleges whose attitude makes his blood boil. The whole while, the kid's like "oh I'm too good to puke in the plane", ya know, the whole nine yards.

Later on while they're up in the air, Joe notices the kid is starting to look really green around the gills and is getting worse as the minutes go by. He asks how he's doing and the little shit's like "Oh I'm doin just fine" (clearly he's not) and that's when Joe realizes this is his chance to teach the little shithead a lesson. He knows the kid's quietly reaching for the puke bag but doesn't say anything about it.

Joe informs the kid that they're gonna practice with a barrel roll and the kid's like "ok, gimme a sec". Before the kid has a chance to even blink, Joe does a double barrel roll and the contents of the bag and the newbie's stomach all go right back in his face and all across the glass canopy of the plane. The kid is horrified that his lunch literally came right back up in his face, but Joe's secretly laughing his ass off. Unfortunately when they land, that plane has to be scrubbed, sterilized and disinfected and it takes two whole days.

Years later, Joe tells the story to Bob and when Bob becomes a civy instructor and has to deal with an arrogant prick, he pulls a page from his dad's dirty playbook and does the same exact thing to the newbie he's been partnered with.

Bestie, I hope this little bit makes your day and makes you laugh, you don't have to do anything with it, it's just a little bit of comedy I wanted to share (lol), because picturing Lonestar from Spaceballs is making me laugh like an idiot.

IM DEAD AHHHHHHH! Rabbit is a fucken great name bc if Billy boy was in my life…. Same, lol

And babes there will never be enough Ben Mears content in the world.

God I remember watching that interview with Glen and I physically gagged, knowing that Joe probably does it(and probably did it to Jake bc let’s be real it was probably Jake he did it to) then BOB DOING IT?!

I know Jake saw that happen and after Bob landed on the tarmac, Jake stared at him for a solid two minutes before yelling “Holy Fuckballs!” And pointing to Bob “Joe Floyd!… God fucken damnit!” And he’ll slap his knee before going to get a drink bc Joe Floyd was his greatest instructor but god damn if he wasn’t scared shitless by the man

#lewis pullman #top gun maverick #top gun #bill pullman #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #Bob #hangman #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagines

[blubushie]

2/8/23 Kakadu, NT

The drive from Tennant Creek to Daly Waters is 4 hours. I arrive just before lunch, in the heat of the day and the usual suspects come to greet me Blackface with his low bleet Polly at the trough with a nicker and Kevo up last, wagging tail high wanting to know where his sheila is. I head in, patting as I go from one oven to the next. I greet my mate at the bar a how've you been, a few been a long whiles from the old familiar faces. For the first time in two years he doesn't pull me a pint but says they've got a new keg of XXXX and asks if I want a taste. "Stuff the XXXX, gimme the green stuff," and he does as he's told with a smile. The cook comes out to greet me with a grin miles wide and she hangs on my arm as we yarn on for a while. My croc slider is done in ten minutes. I finish my meal and the bartender sneaks me a roadie and laughs when I call him a bootlegger because the Territory might be dry now but we both know there's no laws out here.

The drive from Daly Waters to Jabiru is 6 hours but the drive from there to home is another 30 minutes through winding rainforest track. I drive with my windows down in a tiny little Honda not meant for this terrain and I stop for wallabies and drive slow to hear the chatter of flying foxes or let freshies cross the track on the way to sandbanks where they can lay their eggs. It's the middle of Wurrkeng and the night is cool eighteen degrees and the smell of smoke lingering in the air from my mob patch-burning the bush earlier. I get there at 7, long after everyone's settled and my brother hears the tyres in the drive first a warrior's sense — or something and he runs out to greet me with open arms. His lips meet mine as he pulls me into his solid chest for a bloke so scrawny he feels like a brick column and as we part there's a smack and then he biffs me over the head with his palm and asks where the hell I've been because mum's had a roast slow cooking for the past five hours and they'd begun to think I'd never show. I never told them I was even in Country. I follow him inside and into the kitchen mum runs from the sink to greet me and kiss my cheek dad greets me as well with an iron handshake and clap on my back. My sister waits in the lounge room and scoffs when she sees me and chastises me for taking so long but I see her smile when I apologise. She leaves to make a phone call. Wurlebme before I eat to wash the spirit from my flesh. We don't set the table tonight but instead eat out in the yard at a fire because celebrations are done under open sky. We bog in with our fingers and tell bad jokes that only I laugh at and make lewd comments and locker room talk and the goose is cooked to perfection and I can taste the ash in the damper and a part of my soul feels whole again as my brother smiles at me with mandem strings stuck in his teeth and my sister tosses frozen manngalele berries into my mouth and dad tells the story of that giant barra what got away that he loves to tell every chance he gets and mum sings a song to herself in the kitchen. By ten some neighbours arrive and we have a mulil to ourselves my ngadjadj runs to see me on toddler legs and I catch him when he falls. Behind him comes the girl who fancies herself my mararradj and she tussles the boy's hair before kissing me I don't stop her from removing my hat and sunnies and she remarks that he has my eyes, quarter-kukbele but his are still bright blue with youth and wonder that I hope he never loses. He sits in my lap, brother on one side, mararradj on the other sister and father and mother across as we eat. The neighbours brought a feast to celebrate my return mussels and fruit and meat and fish malalalk and dolek are choice, roasted on coals. Dessert is made for once, hot Milo and nutmeg and gelatin with mankurndalh berries. I bed down in the sleepout with my head positioned under the hole in the verandah roof that my brother and I cut a year ago so I could see the stars. I fall asleep to the chitter of flying foxes and the yips of dingos in the distance but tonight I don't dream of them. I don't dream of her face, or her touch, or her kisses or the brush of her fingers on my skin, or the softness of her hair I don't dream of recoil or heat or of angry voices, or the sting of a lash, or rushes at night I don't dream of yellow eyes watching me in firelight. I dream of snakes and keeled scales and colours indescribable and the sound of rain on marrunj leaves and of a mother's embrace, of hands cradling my face of lips on my forehead and thumbs wiping my tears and timeless tenderness in the voice of a woman who welcomes me home and says "You have never lived a day that I have not loved you."

#blu muse

[djcarnationsblog]

2022-6-11

Speaking of that, I haven't prompt'd stuff recently [Lix did the prompts I mentioned we'd also try btw, they're just hanging around in headspace]

[Trying to remember stubborn asshole characters besides Felix,]

Carver going to school sick because he's too stubborn to actually not go and cause he does not want to be home

Adding chaotic flare since it'd been a while. It's the childhood friends timeline of the Justins, in the middle-ish part where they aren't friends publically

That's a prompt setting that you can fuck around with -Pixel

HELL TO THE FUCK YEAH GIMME THAT SHIT-

---

"You're sick, aren't you?"

Carver scrunched his heated face, turning away from the deadpanning boy beside him as he snuffed out another cough, holding his hand against his mouth as he did so.

Carter clearly wasn't having it, munching away at his chips as Carver stuck his tongue out, nose wrinkling all the while. He wouldn't admit it, but those damned chips smelled absolutely horrible, and he could barely smell them as it was when he wasn't sick.

"Shut up, I'm fine Carter." Carver huffed, leaning back against the bleachers of the gym whilst Carter rolled his eyes. "Yeah, just like how Felix finally came out of the closet."

Carver let out a small, sickly chuckle, using a weak fist to bump against Carter's arm. "Oi, no makin' a fool outta my boss, dingus." he raspily commented, only to let out a few coughs afterwards.

"Seriously though dude," Carter muttered, stepping over him to lay down on the bleachers just above Carver's. "You should go to the nurse. Or get some fresh air, or something."

Carver blinked, gaze fluttering over to the smaller, who placed his head in folded arms, bag of chips now in front of him, but half-forgotten in his concern for the other. He hadn't suggested going home?

After so long, he still remembered how Carver didn't like being sick at home. The thought made him smile, if only a little bit.

"I'm here already, why should I leave? Sounds like a biiiig waste of education if you ask me." Carter scoffed at that, and retorted, "Like you ever actually cared in the first place."

Carver hummed, sniffling a bit as he rubbed at sore eyes, letting out a tiny sigh. "Ya got me there, bud." He smiled, eyes droopy as he rested against the bleachers.

The two laid in silence for a little while, one of them wanting to comment on the other's state of health, yet neither saying a word about anything for a little longer.

Five minutes later, Carter spoke up.

"I've got DPH in my bag."

"You just always seem to know what I need, don't ya Cart?"

"I do Carv, I know you. Of course I know your needs."

Carver just smiled, eyes fluttering shut as Carter fled for his bag. Even after their fall out, when they couldn't be friends anymore, Carter never truly forgot, had he? They know each other, the ins and outs, every behavioral tick and tock, every little indication and all the small ways to rile each other.

To have someone understand him so extensively, felt reassuring, and terrifying in all the best ways.

Carver coughed a little more. But Carter was there for him anyways.

---

It's pretty short since it's so late (like, three am for me, almost four), but it's short and it's sweet and I like it like that XD

#DJC Rambles #DJC Drabbles #ibvs #Justin Carver #Justin Carter

[ducitestella]

● – || @tragidies sent: cloud doesn't say anything, instead just leans his head on zack's shoulder and sighs, closing his eyes. ''m tired.' he doesn't say much else, instead wraps his arms around zack's waist, keeping him there, though cloud knows he probably wouldn't have moved anyways. 'just....gimme five minutes. '

● – || They had had a peaceful night with one another , sharing Zack's bed as they slept throughout the night . The pair rested soundless as the comfort of the other kept nightmares and terrors at bay .

As the sun peaked through the curtains , wicked blue hues cracked open to look at the room . It was dusted by sunlight , as bright as the person's hair who was sound asleep against his bare chest . He subtly pulled the covers over them , making sure to keep Cloud asleep and at peace .

How cute .

He thought . When he wasn't pouting at little things or making snippy comments , he was pretty cute . Granted , he was fairly cute even when doing that . He makes a motion to move , but there are quickly arms around his waist STOPPING him in his tracks . Zack smirked gently as he carded a callused hand throughout Cloud's hair .

" Don't worry . " He mused softly , " I'm not going anywhere , Cloud. " He leaned into Cloud's forehead , allowing his lips to rest there .

" -- I promise. "

Zack whispered .

" I promise . . ."

#● m || zack #● v : come morning light you are my new dream || cloud & zack #● c || cloud #● opened letters || answered #● the hero the saved the sky || zack's answered

[robininthelabyrinth]

I really love reading your fics! You capture a variety of tones so well! How about a scenario where instead of Nie Mingjue witnessing Meng Yao murder the Nie Captain, it's Huaisang who sees him instead?

“You just killed him,” Nie Huaisang said dumbly.

He’d pestered his brother into allowing him to come to Langya, arguing at length that it wasn’t as though he would be involved in the actual battle and, somewhat more convincingly, that there was no way the battle was actually anywhere near that bad, given that Jin Guangshan was still sticking around.

(Nie Mingjue had involuntarily snorted a laugh, and that’s how Nie Huaisang had known he’d won.)

When the battle was done, they’d gone looking for Meng Yao together – his brother had been positively seething at how Jin Guangshan pretended he had never received his letter of recommendation, mumbling threats under his breath – and eventually Nie Mingjue had consented to allow Nie Huaisang to go one way while he went another.

Nie Huaisang had found Meng Yao first.

He was starting to wish he hadn’t.

“Nie-gongzi?” Meng Yao asked, his eyes going wide. “What are you –”

“You just kill that man,” Nie Huaisang stressed. “You just stabbed him! Why did you stab him? He’s wearing a peony – isn’t he a Jin sect cultivator? Or – did he do something? Was he a traitor? A spy? Was he doing something bad?”

Meng Yao’s face was a kaleidoscope of emotions that, unfortunately for him, Nie Huaisang had learned to read ages ago. “Yes,” he said, which meant no.

“Why did you stab him with a Wen sword?” Nie Huaisang asked. “Did he attack you and make you drop yours? Did you have to grab the first one you saw?”

“…yes,” Meng Yao said, which, again, meant no.

“Did you just commit premeditated murder on someone on your own side because you didn’t like him?”

Meng Yao viscerally twitched and said, “Definitely not,” which meant definitely yes.

“Wow,” Nie Huaisang said, then shook his head and sat himself down on a fallen tree nearby. “You’re really lucky I’m the one who found you. Da-ge would have lost his mind.”

“Nie Huaisang,” Meng Yao said, and he looked like he had a headache. “Why are you here? And…why are you here?”

“Da-ge wanted to see how you were doing,” Nie Huaisang said. “He misses you.”

Meng Yao winced – not that anyone would ever notice, it being more of a vein twitching in his forehead than anything else – and Nie Huaisang shook his head again.

“Do you like him?” he asked, pulling up one knee and resting his chin on it. Completely classless, but Meng Yao won’t say anything. “My brother, that is. Or was he just useful to you? Tell the truth, please; you have no idea which answer I want to hear.”

Meng Yao took a step forward, and Nie Huaisang pointed his fan at him. “Ah-ah, no. Put the sword down first, please. Don’t forget, my da-ge’s in screaming distance; all I need to do is dodge for long enough to let him arrive, and I’ll have you know that I’ve gotten quite decent at dodging.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” Meng Yao said, looking injured, and it would be funny if Nie Huaisang wasn’t now completely convinced that Meng Yao was a stone-cold killer incapable of remorse. He was a Nie – he’d met plenty of people like that.

Usually right before they were executed, but still.

“My brother,” Nie Huaisang reminded him. “I’d like an answer.”

“Do I get to find out what happens depending on the answer I give?”

The sad thing was, Nie Huaisang really liked Meng Yao. “It’s about the same in the end, really. I’m just curious.”

Meng Yao frowned. “You don’t care?”

Nie Huaisang thought about it for a second. “I mean, a bit? I’d like you to like him. He likes you, and he doesn’t like a lot of people. I suppose it’d be better for you if you liked him.”

“Better for me?”

“Isn’t it always better to enjoy the work you have to do?” Nie Huaisang grinned. “My brother’s a straightforward person, Meng Yao. If you treat him well, the way you always have, he’ll continue to like you, and he’ll be happy. And then we’ll make you Sect Leader Jin, and you’ll be happy too – that is what you want, isn’t it? To make them have to all look up to you?”

Meng Yao was staring at him. He didn’t say no, which meant Nie Huaisang was right.

He liked being right. It happened so rarely!

He stretched out his legs and took out his fan. “Da-ge’s never liked Jin Guangshan,” he said conversationally. “And Jin Zixuan’s a stupid bully. All those boring discussions conferences would be quite nice for da-ge, if you were Sect Leader Jin and Xichen-ge was Sect Leader Lan…and there’s Jiang-xiong, da-ge likes him, too. It’ll work out great!”

“My father hasn’t even seen me,” Meng Yao said blankly.

Nie Huaisang waved that away as irrelevant. “You’re really clever, Meng Yao, but you’re so short-sighted sometimes. Even if you managed to get his attention, so what? Lanling doesn’t reward merit, it rewards connections; without a backer, he’ll treat you as nothing more than a glorified servant. Greeting people at the door your whole life, getting called a bastard and a whore’s son behind your back, everyone wondering why you even bothered.”

“And I take it you have a better option for me?” Meng Yao said, and this time he did put down the sword, walking over to sit next to Nie Huaisang. It was just like the good old days back when Meng Yao was still his brother’s deputy.

“After this war ends, da-ge’s going to be a war hero,” Nie Huaisang said, smiling happily. He’d never once doubted that his brother would win the war – it was nice not having to suffer doubt the way other people did. “While the Jin sect won’t have any merits, just money, and money only gets you so far. The first time there’s some sort of disaster, there’ll be a fight over principles, and my da-ge doesn’t lose those fights – not against someone like Jin Guangshan, anyway! He’ll grind the Jin sect’s face into the dirt without even realizing that that’s what he’s doing. And once my Nie sect is properly ascendant, it’ll be easy to get involved in other people’s family business.”

“Your brother would never agree to take the Wen sect’s place as the sun in the sky.”

Nie Huaisang patted Meng Yao on the shoulder. “I wasn’t really thinking that we’d tell him.” He grinned and raised his voice. “Hey, da-ge! I found him!”

“About time, too,” Nie Mingjue snapped in return, striding over with a scowl in his face. “Meng Yao, there you are. Stand up and let me look at you – these robes aren’t even the right size. Have they been bullying you here?”

Meng Yao allowed himself to be hauled up and the dust of battle brushed off his shoulders. After a moment, he smiled. “It’s fine, Sect Leader Nie. If it’d gotten really intolerable, I would’ve written to you.”

“You’d better have,” Nie Mingjue said with a huff. “Now tell me – any chance you still have that letter I wrote you? I plan to make Jin Guangshan eat it. We’ll see how long he keeps that thick face of his when he see what happens the next time he wants to have me run over here to win his battles for him…!”

“Da-ge, you can’t make him eat the letter,” Nie Huaisang said. “You wrote it on the good paper; it’d be such a waste. Give it to me, I’ll make a painting out of it. Oooh, or a fan! That way I can be especially obnoxious at every discussion conference from now until the end of time!”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #meng yao #jin guangyao #my fic #my fics #two sociopaths walk into a bar at the same time #and one said you get ahead #and the other says I don't have a head but gimme five minutes #Anonymous

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Lemme Love You Old School

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: absolutely none- Bucky's just a shameless flirt lol

Genre: just fluff

Summary: Bucky meets you at a diner and plans to sweep you completely off your feet (inspired by the song Old School by Urban Cone)

***

You like your life. It's not perfect and you definitely have bigger goals but for right now you're happy with your life as it is. You work night shifts at a local 24 hour diner in town, it's a quiet job that pays well enough with regular customers who are very kind.

Tonight is going like any other night, a couple of customers are scattered around the diner at around 1 a.m. and you're mostly idly cleaning since the diner is slow.

"Y/n can I get another cup of coffee?" Frank, a regular customer sitting at the counter asks. Frank is a college student who spends most nights here doing homework.

"Sure hon, gimme one second to brew a fresh pot." You say grabbing a new coffee filter and getting a new pot going. Once it's done you top off Frank's empty cup with the hot liquid.

"Thanks y/n." He smiles sipping from his mug.

"Of course, let me know if you need anything." You tell him, going to the kitchen to grab some things for restocking.

"Is it busy out there?" Thomas, the cook, asks.

"Not at all. It's never busy at this time Tommy, you know that." You tell him.

"Never hurts to ask." He shrugs. You shake your head at him and chuckle as you take the box of napkins out to the front to refill the napkin dispensers. When the bell to the diner's entrance rings you look up, shocked to see a trio of unfamiliar men walk in.

"Hello welcome to Empire Diner. Lemme know if I can get you anything." You say to them before continuing your restocking. You don't bother going to them, menus are already at the table so they won't need you until they decide to order. Maybe five minutes goes by before one of the whistles at you.

"Hey doll! We're ready to order!" A deep voice calls out. You look at him and roll your eyes as you finish up the dispenser you're working on. The man in question wears a leather jacket and gloves, his dark brown hair is about shoulder length and he has blue eyes that scream danger and mischief.

"She has a name- don't be rude." Frank huffs.

"She your girl or something?" The man smirks at the college student.

"No! I just have manners." Frank crosses his arms.

"Frank don't scold my customers." You tell him walking over to the table. "What can I get you gentlemen? And whistler." You ask looking at the group. One of the others snorts at your greeting, a Black man with short hair.

"I'll take a cup of coffee and an order of French toast." The black one who snickered says.

"I'll have eggs, sunny side up, and tea if you have it." The third man at the table says you, blue eyes looking at you. They're not the same blue as the whistling man but blue nonetheless.

"We have like, Lipton tea- it's black if that's okay." You tell him.

"Yeah, that's fine thank you." He nods. You turn attention to the whistler with a disinterested look.

"Oh is it my turn now doll?" He smiles.

"Just tell me what you'd like already."

"What if I said I'd like your number?"

"Well that's not on the menu." You roll your eyes.

"Can I at least get your name then?" He leans against the table. You let out a sigh.

"Y/n. My name is y/n." You say.

"Beautiful name for a beautiful woman. I'm James, friends call me Bucky." He says easily.

"Great, now are you going to order something or just continue to your foolish attempts at flirting until I kick you out?" You look at him flatly.

"Feisty." He hums.

"Feisty and quickly running out of patience. So order, or you and your friends can leave." You say, your voice calm and polite.

"I'll have pancakes and a hot chocolate with whipped cream." He says leaning back in his seat.

"Your food will be out shortly." You say addressing the other two at the table before turning on your heel and heading over to the kitchen.

"Buck man what the fuck are you doing?" Sam asks.

"Stop harassing the poor woman." Steve frowns.

"I like her." Bucky shrugs.

"You got a weird way of showing it." Sam scoffs.

"You could pick any dame and you chose the one that you made a notably bad first impression on. She probably hates you." Steve says.

"I'm gonna make her my girl." Bucky declares.

"That is for sure not gonna work." Sam tells him.

"You don't know that." Bucky says.

"She doesn't respond to your trademark charm." Steve says.

"I've got a few more tricks up my sleeve. Don't even worry about it." Bucky says confidently. Sam and Steve exchange a look but know that if Bucky has made up his mind, nothing will stop him now. It takes maybe five minutes for you to bring around their meals and drinks.

"Alright, sunny side up eggs and tea for the blue eyed gentleman. French toast and coffee for the brother. And pancakes and hot chocolate for the one who can't keep his eyes to himself." You place their items down in front of them and Sam laughs heartily at your comment on Bucky.

"You're hilarious y/n! I'm Sam by the way." Sam introduces himself.

"I'm Steve- since we're doing introductions." Steve follows Sam's leave.

"It's nice to meet you Sam and Steve! Lemme know if I can get you anything else." You smile at the two before heading off to idly restock.

"See? Maybe quit acting like a tool and you'll get more favorable reactions." Sam says.

"I've got it man." Bucky waves Sam off as he eats. Sam scoffs but the subject changes as the men chat while eating. The trio spends another half hour sitting in the diner as they eat and talk before one of them waves you over.

"Hey y/n!" Steve yells. You walk over to the table.

"What can I help you with Steve?" You ask.

"Oh we're done, can we get the check?" He asks.

"Sure thing! You guys paying together or should I split the check?" You ask.

"If you could split it that would be great." Steve tells you.

"Alright I'll be right back." You say walking over to the register to ring up their checks. It only takes a couple minutes for you to come back over with their checks.

"Here ya go. I'll get these dishes out of your way and be back to collect your payment shortly." You tell them before taking their plates and cups to the kitchen. You return after a moment and each of them hands you their form of payment which you take to the register to process each of their checks quickly. You return to the table one more time to give the men their receipts and thank them for coming.

"It was absolutely wonderful meeting you tonight doll." Bucky says as he slides out of the booth.

"Wish I could say the same about you. But you two were an absolute delight Sam and Steve." You say, first to Bucky, then to his two friends.

"You were amazing y/n. It was nice to meet you." Steve miles.

"I will be coming back- that French toast was killer." Sam says.

"I'll let Tommy know you liked it." You chuckle as the three leave the diner. You typically don't get many new faces that blow through town, and when they do you don't often have much to say about them, but you quite liked Sam and Steve, you hoped to see them again before the wind carries them off again.

~*~*~

It's a few nights later when you see any of their faces again, although this time it's not the whole trio, just Bucky strolls into the diner at around midnight.

"Hey doll!" He says sitting up at the counter. Frank is there too, as always, sitting a few seats away from him. He rolls his eyes at Bucky's greeting.

"I'm sorry have we met before?" Comes your response with a bright but clearly fake smile on your face.

"Aw come on- didn't ya miss me?" He jokes.

"About as much as I would miss the flu." You say.

"Ouch. You wound me darling." He clutches his hand over his heart dramatically.

"If only it was enough to end your foolish flirting." You sigh.

"Not a chance doll." He winks at you.

"What do you want James?" You ask him.

"Cup of coffee please. Black. Two sugars." He says. You grab a mug and pour some coffee from the pot into it.

"We don't put the sugar in for you." You say handing him a black container that holds your various sweeteners.

"You know you should be nicer to me. I'm new in town doll."

"I'm not the town's welcome committee. I don't owe you any more hospitality than I would give any other customer. Although you have been particularly obnoxious so I'm less inclined to give you even that much."

"Oof! Just keep hurting me why don't you." He places his hand over his chest dramatically.

"Would that get you to leave or are you simply a total masochist?" You question.

"Keep talking to find out." He smirks. You look at him flatly.

"Where are your friends by the way? Sam and Steve? You didn't bring the other musketeers."

"What? I'm not enough for you?"

"You don't want an answer to that question." You tell him.

"We don't do everything together you know."

"Hey y/n?" Frank calls over you.

"What's up kid?" You turn your head with a smile.

"Can I get a coffee refill please?" He nods his head towards his mug.

"Of course sweets." You take the pot over to Frank and fill his cup. "You should head out soon Frankie, you have an exam early in the morning. You need a good night's rest." You frown.

"I need to make sure I have the material down." He sighs.

"Frankie- anything you don't know by now you're not gonna know by morning, and anything you already know will be out falling out of your ears when you're half asleep on your exam paper." You tell him.

"I'll leave in an hour. Promise. I just wanna go over this last chapter of notes." Frank says.

"Fine, but that's your last cup of coffee or you'll be up all night anyway." You say.

"That's fair." He hums in agreement.

"Fair or not you weren't gonna convince me otherwise." You chuckle.

"I know- and I know you're just trying to look out for me so thank you." Frank smiles before turning his attention back to his books.

"Course kid- you're in here too often for me not to care." You say walking off to do some restocking.

Bucky watches the entire interaction with a curious gaze. Your interactions with this college kid are very different from yours with Bucky. He knew from his first visit that you were more than a sharp tongue and witty remarks but it's interesting to see it in action. You're kind and thoughtful to those you care for, funny and charming, with a warm heart. Bucky smiles into his cup of coffee as he contemplates  this.

~*~*~

Bucky's late night trips to the diner become more frequent from that point. He comes in four to five times a week, he changes tact a bit when speaking to you. Genuine conversation cuts through his goofy flirting attempts that you always dismiss. He's been in town for a couple months now and he's even managed to make Frank less annoyed by his presence.

"Hey doll." Bucky says as he walks in tonight. He greets you the same way every night.

"Hello again James." You roll your eyes with no real irritation behind it.

"Hey Frank, what're we studying tonight?" Bucky asks your other late night patron.

"Chem." He mumbles.

"How goes it?" Bucky asks.

"I hate it here." Frank grumbles back. You laugh a little as you pour Bucky a cup of coffee.

"Thanks doll. Good luck Frank." Bucky says. The bell from the door jingles letting you know someone else is walking in.

"Hello, welcome to Empire Diner! Oh- Steve, Sam, hi guys." You smile.

"You remember us!" Sam smiles.

"What are you guys doing here?" Bucky asks looking at his friends.

"Oh you know, just looking for our friend who spends all his time at a diner pining after a girl that will never notice him." Sam jokes.

"Sam!" Steve scolds, he didn't want to embarrass Bucky that way.

"Shut up man." Bucky rolls his eyes. You choose to ignore Sam's dig at Bucky, mostly in an effort to not put Bucky on the spot.

"Did you guys want anything?" You ask them.

"Just our buddy back. You've got all his attention you know." Sam says.

"Sam zip it." Steve glares at him.

"You make a terrible wingman if that's what you're doing here." You tell Sam.

"He's not my wingman. Trust me, I don't need this birdbrain helping me with women." Bucky tells you.

"Oh is that so?" You hum.

"I could prove it to you." Bucky proposes.

"If our conversations here are anything to go off-"

"Nah- I've got lots of other tricks up my sleeve." Bucky waves a hand in the air.

"Oh do you now? Alright Houdini." You scoff.

"I'll show ya- lemme take you out on a date." Bucky leverages. Steve and Sam share a look, surprised Bucky actually asked you like that.

"Oo I don't do dates. I'll pass." You say.

"You don't do dates? Why not?" Bucky inquires.

"I've heard every line in the book and at this point it's just all bullshit." You shrug.

"Oh you are so wrong about that." Bucky says.

"Of course you say that. Are you hoping I'll change my mind and go on a date with you even though I just said I don't do that?"

"Yes. So do it once. What've you got to lose?"

"Time."

"You can have all the time in the world if you want it. All I'm asking is one date."

"Why? So we can have a dinner where we connect over nothing and then spend the next few weeks pretending anything is going to come out of this? Modern dating is a farce." You scoff.

"Who said anything about modern dating?" Bucky quirks an eyebrow.

"You know any other kind of dating?" You ask sarcastically.

"Go on a date with me and find out."

"Well you're persistent. Fine. One date. Since you clearly won't drop it." You roll your eyes.

"Great. Friday, 8pm. I'll pick you up, just need an address." He says. You grab an order sheet from your notepad and scribble your address quickly on the plain side of the paper. Bucky picks up the piece of paper, leaves a few dollars for his coffee and stands. "I'll see you Friday y/n." He says leaving with Sam and Steve in tow.

"What just happened-?" Frank blinks at you.

"That bastard just convinced me to go on a date with him." You blink back at Frank.

"Impressive." Frank hums.

"Annoying." You roll your eyes and find something productive to do with your idle time.

~*~*~

Friday rolls around much quicker than you expected it to and you're standing in front of your bedroom mirror doing a last minute judgment before 8 o'clock strikes.

At 8 on the nose there's a knock on your door. Three determined raps against the wood snap you out of your thoughts and have you walking over to answer it. When you swing the door open Bucky stands there in a button down and some slacks, a bouquet of flowers in hand.

"I brought you flowers." Bucky smiles holding out the bouquet to you.

"Thank you. I'll go put these in a vase." You say grabbing the flowers and disappearing into your home for a short while, joining Bucky again in under five minutes.

"Okay, ready to go?" He asks.

"Yeah let's go." You say taking his outstretched hand as he leads you out of the building. Outside of your apartment building Bucky walks you to a motorcycle and hands you a helmet.

"You down for a ride sweetheart?" He asks.

"Of course you ride a motorcycle." You scoff.

"What? You scared?" He smirks.

"I'm fine. You got a second helmet?" You ask.

"What for?" Bucky frowns.

"For you. You can't ride without a helmet." You say.

"Worried about it me doll?"

"If we crash I don't wanna see your skull cracked open." You shrug. Bucky swings his leg over the body of the bike and turns to look at you.

"I'm not gonna crash. Just trust me." He says holding out his hand to you. You put the helmet on and grab his shoulder to steady yourself as you get on the bike. "Hold tight sweetheart." He calls over his shoulder before pulling off. Your hands tighten around his middle as the bike picks up speed. Bucky drives for maybe 20 minutes and you watch the town whizz by until he eventually stops in the city. Bucky parks the bike and helps you off of it.

"What're we doing downtown?" You ask.

"You ever been dancing doll?" He asks.

"Dancing? What like clubbing?" You frown.

"No- like swing dancing." He smiles.

"Swing dancing? No I've never- do people still go swing dancing?"

"All the time. You'll see." Bucky smiles.

"I don't know the first thing about swing dancing James." You say as he grabs your hand and pulls you towards one of the buildings.

"I'll teach you, don't worry! It'll be fun!" He calls over his shoulder. You sigh as Bucky pulls you into a fancy ballroom building. He quickly talks to a member of the staff but you don't really hear the conversation as you take in the early 1900s modeled building.

"James, I'll make a fool of myself here." You tell him once he's dragging you onto the dancefloor.

"No you won't. It's easy. Just follow my lead." He says holding your hands in his as he begins to move his feet. "Just feel the music and swing your hips as we dance. I'll do the rest of the work." He smiles at you as you hesitantly take a few steps that mimic his. "Yes exactly, you've got it- now just do it with confidence." He says after a few counts. It's easy to lose yourself in the music, smiling and laughing as Bucky pushes and pulls you around the dancefloor. He's clearly in his element and falling in step with him is effortless. The two of you dance for at least half an hour, maybe longer, before you're all danced out and dragging Bucky to the bar for a drink.

"So?" He asks once the two of you are sipping your drinks.

"Okay, you're right. It was fun." You chuckle.

"See? And you're good at it doll!"

"Yeah well, I had a pretty decent teacher." You shrug.

"Just decent huh?"

"Better than nothing." You smile. Bucky rolls his eyes at you but he smiles anyway.

"You wanna go get something to eat?" He stands up.

"Sure! Where to?"

"Well I'd take you to a diner but we're always at one of those already anyway so let's hit a food truck." Bucky grabs your hand and leads you out of the ballroom. Bucky walks down the street quickly and purposefully until he makes it to a food truck a couple streets away.

"Do you come downtown often James?" You ask while looking over the truck's menu that's on a sign hanging outside of it.

"Yeah- least once a week. Swing dancing reminds me of my ma- she loved it." He smiles. The two of you order your food and shift to where you'll pick them up.

"You were close with your mom then?" You ask him.

"Yeah, she took real good care of me growing up." He nods. "What about you? Close with your family?"

"Closer with my dad than my mom. But close enough to both." You shrug. Your food is given to you then and the two of you walk down the street as you eat.

"Okay- so tell me what's your deal? Why are you so against dating?" Bucky asks after a few minutes of idle chat.

"I feel like I answered this question already." You hum.

"Give me something more than you've 'heard it all before and it's all bullshit'."

"Well, at the risk of sounding like someone's grandmother, people just aren't dating for the same reasons. It seems like the whole world decided love was overrated. It's kinda lame honestly." You shrug.

"Lame huh- I can't wait to prove you wrong." Bucky smiles.

"Prove me wrong? I take it you're a romantic then?" You turn to look at him. He shrugs.

"My ma always said if I found a woman I wanted to keep I had to earn it. Really sweep her off her feet. Prove that I was worth her affections." He says.

"How's that working out for you Romeo?" You ask.

"Only found one woman who made me wanna do that." He says.

"What happened?" You ask.

"Well she doesn't believe in love really, says it's overrated- so I've got my work cut out for me. But I'm working on it." He smiles.

"You're ridiculous." You shake your head with a chuckle. The two of you walk around for a while talking mostly about yourselves until eventually you head back to his bike and he takes you home. When you return to your place Bucky walks you to your door.

"So? How'd I do?" Bucky asks.

"I had fun tonight." You tell him.

"I'm glad. I had fun too." He smiles. You pause for a moment not sure if you should say what you're thinking. "What's on your mind doll?" Bucky asks with a frown.

"You're not gonna ask to come inside?" You ask him. Bucky shakes his head.

"Not tonight. But I will ask for another date." He says.

"Another date? I only agreed to one."

"So agree to another. I'd like to spend more time with you." He says. You contemplate for a moment before answering him.

"Fine. I'll go on another date with you." You tell him.

"Perfect. How's next Saturday?" He asks.

"You already had a second date in mind?" You ask.

"Maybe." He shrugs.

"Saturday's fine." You say with an eye roll, but the smile that ghosts your lips gives away that you're amused.

"Alright, I'll see you at 9pm." He says.

"That's late." You muse.

"For what we're doing it's gotta be dark out. Plus you're practically nocturnal anyway." He shrugs.

"What are we doing?" You ask.

"You'll find out on Saturday." He smiles turning to walk down the hall.

"James!" You call after him.

"Saturday!" He says as he walks further away. You shake your head and enter your apartment with a smile on your face.

"What am I getting into?" You ask yourself as you get yourself ready for a shower and then to sleep.

~*~*~

Apparently you were getting into some very serious courting from one James Barnes. For your second date he took you to a drive in movie, and despite what you expected he was respectful the whole time, nothing more than an arm around you during the movie. That's when you learned that he also had a car but he barely used it, preferring his bike. He brought you flowers on that date too. Your third date was a week and a half after that, you went bowling, he forwent flowers for a box of chocolate when he picked you up for that date. It was after your third date that he asked to kiss you upon returning you home. It was passionate, but not so heavy that you felt it was going to lead to anything else that night, just enough to leave you breathless as he whispered goodnight. Your fourth date was yesterday, he took you to an arcade at the pier and you ended the evening riding the ferris wheel before he brought you home. And he never made you feel pressured to do anything more than enjoy each other's company. He wasn't kidding when he said he'd plan to sweep a woman off her feet. You were thoroughly swept, though you kept that information to yourself for now. Bucky still came to the diner regularly, even as his plan to woo you went on. Steve and Sam had become common customers as well, though not nearly as often as Bucky.

"Hey doll!" Bucky beams at you as he strolls into the diner with Steve and Sam.

"Hi James. Steve, Sam- good to see you all again." You say as Bucky brings you a single flower and kisses your cheek.

"How ya been sweetheart?" He asks.

"James you saw me yesterday." You chuckle.

"Missed you." He shrugs taking a seat at the counter between his two friends.

"Well, what can I get for you three?" You ask.

"I'll have a coffee." Sam says.

"Can I get an omelet- and some orange juice." Steve says.

"Nothing for me doll, just wanted to see you." Bucky winks.

"You're insufferable." You chuckle. You get Sam his coffee and Steve his orange juice. Steve and Sam stay and chat with you for a little while Steve eats his omelet and the pair enjoy their drinks but eventually the duo bids you and Bucky goodnight before leaving. Bucky stays through your shift, keeping you company through the moments where the diner is empty save you two and when your shift ends around 3 or 4 am Bucky offers to accompany you home.

"Hey doll, quick question for you." He asks once you arrive at your apartment.

"What is it James? Everything okay?" You ask him.

"Yeah everything's fine. Just figured- you know we've been on a few dates now- so, will you be my girlfriend?" He asks.

"Oh- your girlfriend." You mutter.

"If you're not comfortable with that right now. Feel free to say no." He shrugs.

"Yes, I'll be your girlfriend." The words are coming out without a second thought and Bucky picks you up and swings you around at that answer.

"Success!" He laughs.

"Success?" You ask with a smile.

"Still think love is overrated?" He asks.

"Maybe it isn't." You shrug with a smile.

"And you said chivalry is dead." He says moving in to plant a searing kiss against your lips. You giggle against his kiss.

"With people like you I guess it can't be." You tell him running your hands through his hair. Bucky truly had convinced you that it wasn't all a fruitless effort. He'd give you the world if you wanted, but all you wanted now was him and he was fine with that.

***

#marvel #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff

[early20sfailingplenty]

Hello! I recently started a job where there is a lot of manual labor involved, I'm often coming home covered in cuts and bruises I hadn't noticed getting. Do you think you could write a little something for Bo grumpily fussing over the cuts and scrapes even though they don't bother me much? -mort(Lester anon from before)

Aaaa congrats on the new job! I recently started a job where I'm constantly moving things, pushing things, reaching over etc and I'm always waking up sore in muscle groups I haven't used for well over a year, so I get it! I hope you enjoy this, Mort, and please know I LOVE your Lester thoughts!!!!💗🙏

TW; mentions of blood & injuries, canonical darkness & violence, swearing.

----

You don't really notice when you get cut or bruised at work; you're always so focused on what you're doing that anything you bump into, any time you get caught on something sharp, trip over or walk into is dismissed. You don't even remember registering the pain at the moment of injury and when you get home and find them, you just shrug them off as an occupational hazard.

It takes three shifts at your new job for Bo to realise that you keep coming home injured. Is he slow on the uptake? A little, but once he notices, Bo quickly becomes attentive and he knows you've sustained injuries even before you do. It's why he keeps a small first aid kit right next to the front door; as soon as your keys get thrown into the wooden bowl on the sideboard, Bo is there impatiently while you take off your coat and other outer layers.

"Hurry th'fuck up, darlin'," He shakes his head, already getting out the anti-septic wipes and plasters in preparation. He always expects the worst, even if you only have a few small bruises.

"Relax, Bo," You eye roll fondly, not all that bothered by any injuries, "They'll still be there in five minutes. There's no rush."

Bo's eyes narrow and he scoffs, looking away from you. You see him make a concerted effort to calm down and you realise that under his impatience is worry for you and for your safety. Time is of the essence with open wounds, it's true, and Bo knows that better than most. He's been injured so many times you've lost count of how often you've sobbed over his still form while Vincent has shakily but expertly patched his twin up.

"Jus' keep still, would ya'?" You're all ready for Bo's inspection and his eyes greedily rake over your body in a way which is clinical yet... appreciative. Your sleeves are rolled up and arms turned this way and that, Bo's dark brows furrowed. Your face is gripped between his large rough hands and examined at all angles. Your legs are checked in the same way as your arms, and with a quick look to see that you're both alone do you pull up your shirt so Bo can check you for bruises or cuts front and back, too.

He's grumpy as all hell about it, muttering and cursing with every new injury he finds. Bo dutifully but roughly swipes the cuts clean, dumps the used wipe on a tea towel and then puts a plaster on it, his calloused thumb rubbing it over your skin as if his touch can heal you from the outside in.

If only you could tell him that he soothed your rawest wounds, those on your heart, from the inside out just by being himself... but even if you could, for nothing was stopping you, you knew that Bo would never believe you.

If you wince, Bo does too. "Shush, s'okay," says he with a tender, lingering kiss to your forehead. "I got'cha, darlin'. Bo's gonna' fix you up and make ya' all better, yeah?"

"Bo, I'm fi - "

The look he gives you tells you not to push him and you realise that he's doing this for you as well as for himself, not entirely selfless is he in anything he does for you. He needs to know you're safe and well so he can get some damn sleep at night.

"Gonna gimme' a heart attack one'a these fuckin' days, Y/N." When he's done, it's time for your lecture, and he pulls you into his body without hesitation, his arms tightly around you and his lips at your ear, "Only one'a you so be more careful, huh? I ain't always gonna' be patchin' ya' up jus' because y'got hurt." The last sentence is spoken in a rush compared to the reverence with which he addressed you, and so you know he's a liar.

Don't call him out on it - the tips of his ears are already pink enough.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair imagine #bo sinclair blurb #house of wax #house of wax x reader #slasher fic #slasher community #slasher x reader