#make this man drink something other than coffee and whatever other shit he does

[cryptidsdad]

I think more people should force robert to drink water

#( * ooc. ⟩ ❛ stop posting. shut up. ❜ ) #make this man drink something other than coffee and whatever other shit he does #I just know he’ll take like one (1) sip of water and be like ‘there I had water’ and call it a day

[xx-like-a-villian-xx]

I Hate You | One

(So I've decided to finally start posting my works from ao3 on here eek. Here's a cheeky lil one shot about a very angry Noah and reader who hates his guts, enjoy x

My ao3 is https://archiveofourown.org/users/xX_like_a_villain_Xx

Also let me know if you want to be tagged in anything upcoming posts, I have so many WIPs)

CW: smut, angry sex, fingering, p in v unprotected sex, reader slaps Noah, use of derogatory terms, all around a good old hate bang

18+ MDNI | Noah Sebastian x Reader

”Oh fuck off, Noah. Mr “I’m a big rockstar, I can’t do anything wrong”, you make me sick.” You huffed, throwing the t-shirt you had just folded back into the box of merch. “Always on my fucking case.”

Noah stared at you with fiery eyes, clenching his jaw. “You know what, if your brother wasn’t my best friend and drummer of this fucking band, you wouldn’t even get this opportunity.” He pointed, stepping closer.

”I fucking wish I never met you, asshole.”

That was it for Noah, he stormed out of the green room, the door slamming loudly.

Noah Sebastian, always making sure your day was ruined. You had no idea what his problem was but since Folio, your older brother, invited you on tour as a merch girl, he had been insufferable. Sure, every time you saw the guy you’d end up in some kind of altercation but it had become significantly worse since you stepped foot on the bus on the first day of tour. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears when you placed your bags in your bunk. There was just something about him that pissed you off, his cocky attitude, his stupid hair, the stupid smirk that he always wore- he just really fucking ground your gears.

You groaned, throwing your hair into a claw grip before stacking the boxes on top of each other, ready to take them down to the merch area.

”Who pissed in Noah’s cereal this morning? He was kicking up a storm outside.” Jolly chuckled as he entered the green room.

You laughed. “Thanks for the great idea, I’ll add that to my list of shit I wanna do to him.”

“What are you even fighting about now?” He asked, throwing himself down onto the worn leather couch.

”Fuck knows, I just want this tour to be over so I don’t have to see him.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Where the fuck is Noah? It’s half an hour until showtime!” Matt was fretting, searching behind amps backstage like the 6’3” man would be behind them.

You rolled your eyes. It was always like this, fight with Noah then he disappears until the last second just to make everyone stressed. You put your phone away in your back pocket and groaned.

”I’ll find him, just stick to whatever you're doing.” You patted Matt’s shoulder.

”Is that a good idea, sis?” Nick raised an eyebrow, fed up with your arguing.

You shrugged at your brother. “You have shit to be doing, I’ll be fine.”

You weren’t fine, anxiety bubbled low in your stomach as you searched around the venue for the singer who was nowhere to be found. Fuck, where the hell would he be? You sighed in defeat after searching everywhere inside, pushing the back door to the venue open. The sky was turning dark, the crisp autumn air hitting your bare arms making you shiver as you pulled the sleeves down.

You wandered around the buses, looking for any sign of him, even searching their bus to no avail. You stepped back outside, losing your footing on the step, almost plummeting to the ground when strong arms caught you. You looked down at the inked skin that gripped your waist and jolted away, looking up into fiery coffee coloured eyes.

”Where the fuck have you been? Everyone’s been looking for you!” You snapped, folding your arms over your chest.

Noah chuckled darkly. “It doesn’t matter.”

You could smell the hint of whiskey on his breath as he spoke, towering over you. “Noah, have you been drinking?”

”Why does it matter?” You could now hear the slight slur in his voice.

You sighed. “Fuck, Noah. You have to perform in less than half an hour.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N it was two drinks.”

You bit your tongue. “Okay, fine, whatever. Just get back in there.”

You turned to walk away, getting halfway towards the doors when you heard him say something under his breath, making your blood boil.

”What was that?” Your jaw clenched as you stormed back towards him.

He smirked. “That skirt makes you look like a hooker.” His eyes roamed down your body, stopping at the black miniskirt and fishnets that covered your legs.

Your open palm met his cheekbone before you could even think. The sound of the slap ricocheting off the buses. He stood there, stunned as you gritted your teeth in anger, your hand burning from the hit.

Before another word could be said, you were pushing your way back inside the venue, his dark eyes watching you.

“After tonight, I’m going the fuck home.” You yelled as you stomped past everyone to the merch area.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thankfully Noah showed up for his set, cheek still red from your hit and you took some kind of pleasure in knowing that you were the reason for it, although the girls in the crowd swooned over him even more and it made you want to vomit. If you had to hear one more word about how gorgeous he was, you were sure you were going to flip the table.

The venue was finally cleared out and you exhaled the breath you didn’t even realise you had been holding. Busying yourself with putting the merch away was the only thing keeping your mind off the bullshit. You needed to look for plane tickets home so you rushed the job.

”You’re not serious about going home, right?” Your brother picked up a hoodie, folding it into a box.

You chuckled darkly. “If I spend one more second around that man things are gonna get ugly and I don’t think anyone wants that. It’s better if I go home.”

Nick sighed. “What if I talk to him?”

You looked up at your brother who’s eyebrows were furrowed in concern as he worked. “Nick, it’s been years and nothing has changed. If we stay around each other for one more second, we will end up ripping each other apart. Let’s just get this done so we can go back to the hotel and I can get a plane home tomorrow.”

”Fine.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Go on in, I need to grab a few things.” You told everyone. You were parked at the hotel and you just needed a few minutes of alone time before the others forced you to the hotel bar to say goodbye. You were adamant on going home no matter how much they asked you to stay. You tidied up the bus, knowing it would be a mess when you leave, it’s the least you could do when you were abandoning them for the rest of the tour.

Your mind reeled over the events of the night, replaying Noah’s words and his face when you slapped him. He deserved it, how dare he call you a hooker. You were still fuming about it, seething.

”I heard that you're leaving for LA in the morning?” You didn’t even hear the bus door open and the anger flowing through your veins only grew hotter, burning like poison through your body.

You slammed the trash bag down and turned to him. “Yeah, I am. Is that a problem?”

He sat on the small table, crossing his arms. “No, actually I’m quite excited about it.”

Your eyes rolled in frustration. “Great, fantastic, now fuck off.”

Silence was thick in the air. He didn’t move, he just watched you angrily throw trash into the plastic bag. You couldn’t stand his presence, it was like heavy fog in your mind and you were ready to see red.

”What’s your problem, Noah?” You finally span around, holding your hands out in exasperation.

He huffed a laugh. “I just think you’re the worst person to ever exist, is all.” He shrugged. “You have a weak slap too, it felt like being kissed by a butterfly.”

A scoff left your lips, your fingertips twitching. “Shut up, just shut the fuck up Noah.”

He smirked. “Why? Gonna hit me again?”

”I said shut up.” Your patience was wearing thin.

”You should get some lessons, I know a guy.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

He cocked his head to the side and pouted. “Oh no, is Little Miss Perfect getting frustrated, hm?”

That was it. You marched forward and gripped the front of his hoodie, breathing heavily through your nose. “Listen here, I don’t know what your fucking problem is but can you please just fuck off and leave me alone. I’ll be gone tomorrow, I won’t hang around when we’re home, we won’t have to see each other.” You growled.

His whiskey eyes turned almost black as he stared down at you, his lips curling into a sick smile. “What a shame, I was enjoying this game of cat and mouse.”

You could’ve screamed in his face, grip tightening on his hoodie. “I hate you.”

”Say it again.” His inked fingers wrapped around your wrist. He stood, towering above you, nostrils flaring.

”I hate you.”

He flipped the both of you over, pressing your back against the table, looming over you as if you were prey. You should’ve been scared but your thighs clenched when he stared down at you, chest heaving with anger.

“Say it again, Y/N.” He growled, face inches from yours.

You gulped, face reddening at the closeness and his dominating demeanour. “I fucking hate you.” You spat.

His lips urgently pressed to yours, taking your breath away as he kissed you with so much fire you thought you might die. The hand on his hoodie moved to his chestnut hair, grabbing it at the roots hard. He gasped into your mouth, lifting you up onto the table. His tongue slipped past your lips, sliding against yours, earning a soft groan from you.

He pulled away to pull the Bad Omens long sleeve from your body, eyes travelling down to your bare chest where you had decided to not wear a bra and he practically whined. His hot lips trailed down your chest, his large palm gripping your waist. Your eyes rolled back when his mouth wrapped around the hardened peak of your nipple, your head falling back against your shoulders. His tongue lapped against it, dark eyes looking up at you through long lashes and you were done for.

“Noah-“ you gasped when his hand trailed between your thighs, pushing them apart.

He huffed against your sensitive skin as his hands pushed your tiny skirt up and found the fishnets underneath, tearing a hole in the crotch. You went to protest, to push him away but his fingers gliding against the wet mess on your underwear had the words dying on your tongue.

”Fuck, do you get off on hating me, huh?” He kissed back up to your jaw, hot breath against the flesh of your throat. When you didn’t answer, too lost in the feeling of his hand against your clothed core he gripped your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “Answer me.”

His fingers slid underneath the black lace, slipping between your folds to gather the arousal and you gasped. He quickly pulled his fingers out, holding them in front of you, showing you just how wet you were.

His fingers gripped your cheeks harder. “I said, do you get off on hating me, Y/N?”

You nodded, his fingers pressing against your lips. You opened your mouth, licking your sweet arousal from his fingertips and he groaned at the sensation, hips bucking into you. You slid your tongue against them, sucking the digits as far as you could into your throat, spit travelling down onto his palm. He was panting over you, his hard cock straining against his shorts, pressing against your throbbing cunt.

It was all too much. Your face was burning up, body yearning for his touch. You hated him so much yet all you wanted was for him to take you for all you have, to leave you a whimpering mess.

As if he could read your thoughts, he pulled his soaking fingers from your mouth, eyes never leaving yours as he ran them down your bare chest, down to where you needed him most. He tore the thin black lace of your underwear out of the way and trailed his hand between your folds, circling your clit at a torturous pace, basking in the sounds that left your lips.

It felt like hell how slow he was being, riling you up, frustrating you even more than he usually did. You needed more and your hips bucked, begging for friction but he wouldn’t let up on the torture, smirking down at you.

“What do you need, hm?” He pouted.

”Fuck-“ you whined. “Please.”

”Please what?” His long inked fingers pressed against your entrance before retreating back to circle your clit.

”I need more, please.”

”Look at you begging like a needy little slut.” A sly grin danced across his lips as he finally pressed a slim finger inside you, the wet sound filling the quiet bus.

Your mouth gaped open, back arching when he curled his fingers into the spot that had your vision blurring. His cock twitched at the feeling of you clenching against his hand and he added another finger, fucking you fast exactly where you needed him.

You were on cloud nine, the feeling of his fingers inside you sending you into a frenzy of whines and moans. You shouldn’t have enjoyed it the way you did, it should’ve felt wrong, it shouldn’t have been happening at all with how much you fucking hated him but all you wanted to do was cum around his fingers.

His free hand moved to the back of your head, gathering your hair in his palm to force you to look at him. His eyes were pits of darkness and lust, pupils blown wide, staring at you like he wanted to devour you. He could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers and he growled, pulling you into a filthy kiss. Your tongues slid around each other in an unholy dance of need and desperation.

You were close, the tightness in the pit of your stomach becoming too much to handle. Your moans were turning into incoherent rambling and you needed release.

”Fuck, I-I’m gonna, ah!” Before you could, he pulled his fingers from you, pushing his shorts down just enough to free his cock, achingly hard and leaking precum.

”Are you gonna show me how much you hate me and cum around my cock?” His hand in your hair gripped harder, making your eyes roll back as the tip of his cock slid between your folds, pressing against your clit.

“Please, please, I need it.” You whimpered.

”You fucking disgust me.” He gritted, pushing inside, filling you so perfectly.

Your eyes met his when he started to fuck into you, hard and fast, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix, making your scream. It felt so good, you didn’t know how you would ever recover from him ruining you. You were so fucked out and cock drunk that you didn’t care about the noises that left you, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin and the wet sound of him rutting into your pussy.

He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, his hand on the back of your head as leverage, cock sliding in and out of you so wonderfully. Once again that coil in your stomach pulled taught, threatening to snap. You clenched around him and he grunted, needing more of you. He pushed as deep as he could until you squealed in a heavenly mix of pain and pleasure.

“Do you hate me?” He growled, pressing his forehead against yours.

”So fucking much.” You whined.

”Tell me you hate me.” He was panting, so close to the edge.

His free hand slid between your bodies and found you clit, rubbing it quickly with his thrusts, making you see stars.

”Fuck! I hate you. I hate you. I hate y-“ with a scream you came around him, soaking him, legs rattling as you clutched his arms. You were completely out of your mind, fucked out, overstimulated as he fucked you through the best orgasm you had ever experienced.

Your walls pulsed around him, sending into his own climax, filling you to the brim with his cum, your name leaving his mouth like a mantra, a forbidden song.

You were both panting, catching your breath. Silence filled the bus when he pulled out, tucking himself back into his underwear while you lay there on the table, his cum dripping out of you. You heard him go into the bathroom to get tissue and to your surprise he cleaned you up, wiping away the mess he made.

There was an air of awkwardness when you redressed yourself, digging around for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that you threw on haphazardly. Noah was cleaning the table when you turned to him.

You cleared your throat. “I-uh, I’m going to find the others.”

Noah scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

You nodded, turning to the door.

”Hey wait!” You span back around to see Noah approaching, pulling you into a searing kiss. He pulled back after a minute with furrowed eyebrows. “Don’t go home, yeah?”

You smirked, lifting you hand to brush his hair out of his face. “Remember that I still hate you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fuck you.”

He pulled your lips back to his again.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

3 days later…

”Leave before I tear your fucking throat out.” You screamed, throwing a t-shirt at the smug brown eyed idiot.

”You should’ve got on that plane back home, I can’t fucking deal with this!” Noah stormed away.

”Don’t come back!” You yelled down the hall, stomping your feet towards the couch where Jolly and Bryan were sitting.

”I’m surprised you didn’t go. He’s not gonna change you know.” Jolly nudged your shoulder when you huffed.

“Why did you stay anyway?” Bryan asked.

”I can’t leave you guys short staffed, can I?” You smiled, wrapping your arms around their shoulders. “Anyway, I gotta go find Matt.” You stood up, picking up your phone on the way, smiling at the message on the screen. You sauntered out of the room.

”Do you think she’s fucking Noah?” Jolly questioned.

Bryan chuckled. “Totally.”

#noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens cult #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #bad omens fic

[thornsnvultures]

ooey gooey ♡

Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Every morning, Bucky comes to your store for terrible coffee and maybe something a little sweet on the side.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: fluff, pining, lots of food talk, fingering, dirty talk, pet name (sugar), mild angst, Sam's a little shit but a great (accidental) wingman :3c

a/n: this was written for @buckysbirdie 's #BirthdayBashWritingChallenge 💖 and the prompts I picked were: "🍦 Waffle Cone: Bucky Barnes 🪵 Moose Tracks: Lumberjack 🍮 “I have to leave.” 🍩 “Rock paper scissors for it.” 🌰 “Don’t get shy on me now.” 🍓 Mutual pining 🍫 Friends to lovers"

Birdie, this was so much fun to write, I hope you like it! 💖

a/n 2.0: unbeta'd, moodboard by me, edited by me. if you see any mistakes, no you didn't :)

18+ BLOG, MINORS DNI. IF YOU INTERACT AND YOU DON’T HAVE YOUR AGE VISIBLE ON YOUR BLOG YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. 18+ BLOG, MINORS DNI.

Your lumberjack was here again. Well he's not yours exactly, but a girl could dream.

Every morning Bucky Barnes would roll up to your small town's only general store in his big red pick up truck before work at the lumber yard. And every morning you would watch from your perch behind the counter as he'd meander through the short shelves in search of the ancient coffee maker. The coffee that machine produced could only be described as sludge, but he filled a cup to the brim every morning without fail.

You'd told him on more than one occasion that you admired his iron gut for being able to withstand it day in and day out. His usual response was that it was strong, that it put some extra hairs on his chest. Then he would puff said chest out and thump it with a closed fist and the two of you would laugh while your thighs clenched together at the thought of running your fingers through whatever amount of hair really did reside on his thick chest.

You never saw him in less than a thermal Henley or his thick fleece lined coat. Yes, even in the summer time he wore long sleeves. What hid underneath those layers was another in a long list of mysteries you wanted to unravel about the gentle giant.

Most mornings you were the only one who spoke out of the pair of you. Rambling about your weekend plans, past or future, or whatever hijinks your precious cat Turkey had gotten into the day before. But Bucky was always there, listening intently like whatever you said would be the most interesting thing he'd hear all day.

"Ms. Linda said she needed help setting up for Bingo Night at the VFW hall so of course I offered to help since her husband was so generous fixing the hole in the awning above the stoop."

Bucky poured a generous amount of creamer into his cup of sludge. He may boast about not minding the taste, but you saw how many fixings he added every morning.

"Bingo Night, huh? I could see you up there calling numbers for all those old biddies," he smirked at you as he popped the lid on. "It's a shame I can't come, maybe I could've gotten lucky."

A laugh bubbles up and out of you before you could stop it. He can't be serious. He can't be...flirting?

Bucky Barnes does a lot of things. Takes the trash out for his elderly neighbor, offers to shovel the stoop out front of the store when the weather gets rough, and drinks the garbage coffee you make every morning, among many other things. But one thing he's never done before was flirt with you.

You don't know how to respond. You've always liked the man but he's never shown any interest in return. Never taken you up on an offer to get drinks or visit the actual coffee shop in town that makes actually good coffee.

So instead, Bucky's been a good friend. A good, kind friend that had no interest in you in a sexual way. Which was fine. But that kind of talk coming from him out of the blue was baffling.

Why is he flirting with you now after all this time?

The bell above the front door jingles, pulling your attention from his eyes watching you above his styrofoam cup.

"Buck, c'mon we gotta get a move on." Bucky's friend and coworker, Sam, stands in the doorway tapping the silver watch on his wrist.

"Sammy, why're you rushing? Got a hot date?"

Sam laughs and shakes his head.

"No, ma'am. Me and 'loverboy' here have to get in this truck and get a move on. Got a delivery up north to make."

If Sam sees the shocked look on your face, he doesn't say anything about it. You're too shocked to even comment on the 'loverboy' nickname he gave to Bucky just now. Bucky never goes out on the road anymore. Not since the accident that took his arm. He doesn't talk about it much, but everyone else in town sure does. How he had been on the road too long on his own and fell asleep at the wheel. You stopped listening then, when anyone but Bucky decides they have a right to tell his story. Like somehow he died that night and his ghost haunts the lumber yard.

Sam reaches in front of Bucky and grabs the last Ooey Gooey butter cake from the stand by the register.

"Now wait a minute-"

They're Bucky's favorite, he always grabs one before he heads out in the morning.

Sam halts at the door and turns around, slowly beginning to unwrap the package.

"Rock, paper, scissors for it," Bucky practically shouts over the rustling of plastic wrap.

"Bucky, you don't have to-"

Before you can finish your sentence the cake is back on the counter and the men, boys really, are pounding their fists and chanting the words to the game. Bucky's metal fingers open to the shape of a pair of scissors while Sam's stay closed to form a rock.

"Eyyy! Better luck next time, champ." With a smile pointed your way and a, "see you in two weeks," Sam slaps two dollars on the counter and heads back to the truck parked outside.

"Damn."

Bucky looks so cute when he pouts. He'll argue and say he doesn't pout but how else would you describe the way his pink lips purse and the space between his eyebrows crinkles? He's a pouter for sure.

You tell him to wait there for a moment. You've got something better for him in the back. His eyes roam your body like he's searching for...what? You don't know. You're not sure if you want to know with the way he's biting his lip.

You make your escape to the back room just left of the counter and Bucky can't help but follow. Like if he takes his eyes off you for one moment you'll disappear.

It's dark in the storeroom, only enough sunlight to illuminate the desk and chair in the makeshift office that takes up half the space. The other half is full of boxes of snacks and other necessities waiting their turn to be stocked on shelves.

You quickly grab the box you were looking for and turn, bumping into a curious Bucky in the process and spilling half its contents onto the floor.

"Oh shit. I'm sorry, sugar."

Bucky hurriedly bends down to help you pick up the contents of the box. Did he just call you "sugar"?

"It's...fine. Thanks, Buck."

In your arms is a cardboard box full of the butter cakes that Bucky grabs every morning with his coffee.

"Is that..."

"Take them."

Bucky reels back, and that cute crease between his eyebrows returns.

"All of them?"

"Well," you shrug, "Sam said 'two weeks' right? How many do you want for two weeks?"

"Sugar, I can't take that many."

You nudge the box into his arms which he accepts reluctantly.

"If you take all of 'em you won't have to fight over them with Sam."

"He can't have any."

"Bucky!"

You laugh until you realize he's not joking. In fact, Bucky looks quite serious.

"Not if they're from you. He can't have them."

The blue of Bucky's eyes are dark, murky like the lake that sits a few miles outside of town.

You didn't think he would be so possessive over a box of sweets. Or that your kind gesture would mean so much.

"Bucky?"

The box falls to your feet, spilling packaged cakes onto the floor again. But you're not worried about picking them up this time because Bucky's suddenly on you, his hands on your face and walking you backwards and into the desk at your back. You don't even mind the pain when your butt bumps the wooden edge when you feel Bucky's lips on yours.

His stubble is prickly against your skin and he tastes like burnt caffeine but you can't get enough. The rough pads of his fingers caress your cheeks, years of hard labor imprinting on your skin through his touch. The metal of his left hand is colder than you were expecting, but only on his fingers. His palm is warmed slightly from holding his coffee, a meek simulation of the warmth pouring off his right.

You don't think you'll ever forget how he lights up your senses. How he sounds when you slip your tongue past his lips to curl around his. How he shivers when you run your hands up his chest and around to the back of his neck where his hair is short and bristly under your fingernails.

Suddenly you're being lifted, placed on the desk behind you with a gentle thud.

"You don't know what you do to me, sugar. So damn sweet."

His hands are on your waist now, his fingers digging into the dips of your curves to pull you closer so he can nip and lick at your neck, your jaw. He's starving for you and all you can do is roll your head back to give him space to feast.

"I should've given you that box sooner."

Bucky's breathy chuckle blows past your ear and sends a shiver down your spine. Your gasp spurs him on, moving to lift your baggy work t-shirt up before you stop him.

"Everything okay? Don't get shy on me now."

You run your hands across his shoulders marveling at how massive he is, how small he makes you feel. How safe. But you're unsure and Bucky can tell.

"I've wanted you for so long, sugar, just thought you could do better than someone like me."

His shoulders shrug under your palms. You want him too, so badly.

"Bucky that's not -"

"I know, I know it's silly. But I've been seeing someone. A therapist," he rushes to clarify when you raise an eyebrow at him. "She said I deserve things that make me happy. That what happened to me doesn't mean that I'm too broken to be happy."

Bucky leans into your hand on his cheek as he speaks. His eyes are searching yours and you hope he can see the love you hold for him there. And you do, you love him. As much as you can from seeing him every damn day for the past two years. He's grown so much since he came back home after the accident and you're hoping you're on his list of things that make him happy.

"You do deserve those things, Bucky."

His fingers trace a pattern you can't decipher under your shirt.

"Do you know why I come in here every morning?"

"Is it not for the coffee?"

"To see you."

He presses a kiss into your palm.

"I see you and the rest of my day is sweeter for it, sugar. The only thing better would be seeing your pretty head on the pillow next to mine when I open my eyes every morning."

You'd damn near slide off the table if Bucky didn't have a hold on you.

"Now, I want to feel you before I'm gone and losing my mind in that cab with Sam for two weeks. Will you let me, sugar?"

"Yes. Please, Bucky."

Your shirt is on the floor by the time you're finished speaking and Bucky's ripping your leggings down. It's good you have a spare pair of sweatpants in your locker just in case because they're definitely ruined.

You don't care if you have to work naked if Bucky's keeps mouthing at your chest the way he is now. The delicious burn of his stubble offset by the hot, wet suction of his mouth around your nipple is driving you insane. Your hands tug at his cropped hair, your body shaking with the force of your need for him.

"Bucky, please. T-touch me."

He doesn't waste any time teasing, just pushes your ample thighs open and presses a finger to your weeping slit. You cry out, grinding against his finger as he marvels at how wet you are already.

"All this cream for me, sugar?"

"Fuck, yes Bucky. It's yours."

He kisses you, stealing the moan that pours from you when he sinks his fingers past the lace covering your pussy.

Bucky groans, pulling away from your mouth to stare down at your puffy lips. His fingers circle your hole and he can feel you clenching around nothing, begging for him to fill you. But not yet.

Instead he slides his two fingers up and circles the swollen bud of your clit. The pressure and the wet sound it makes has you writhing on the desk, clawing at Bucky's arm as he works you over.

"That's it, sugar. My fingers feel good?"

"Yes," you can't help but shout.

Belatedly, you realize that the front door of the store isn't locked and anyone could walk in and hear, or even see, the two of you like this. It should make you push Bucky away and straighten yourself so you don't startle some poor shopper but if anything it makes your gut curl tighter. More of your juices spill and you don't hold back your cries of pleasure.

"So loud, sugar. What if someone saw you like this, huh? Coming so pretty for me, making a mess all over this desk."

Bucky shoves his two fingers inside you and you cry out even louder. Gripping the desk beneath you for dear life as he pumps into you hard and fast, finding that spot deep inside you that you could never reach. He curls his long, thick fingers into it and your eyes roll back.

"Listen to how wet you are. Give me what I need, sugar. Come for me."

Bucky's fingers pump into you two more times before you're screaming, pulsing around his digits until you can't move anymore.

You watch as Bucky slides his fingers free and into his mouth, sucking up your juices like the most delicious candy treat he's ever had.

His light touch makes you jump when you feel him slide your panties back in place.

"What about- "

"When I get back. Can't leave Sam waiting for me out there longer than I have. I already get enough of his teasing over you." Bucky smirks and tugs on an exposed nipple.

"Hey! That's not my fault!" You laugh and smack his chest.

Bucky laughs and grabs your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm and placing it over his heart.

"I have to leave, sugar."

"Come back to be, Bucky. I'm not done with you."

You're smiling but there's worry in your eyes.

"I'm not done with you either," Bucky winks. "And I'll be alright. Sam will be with me. He's a pain in the ass but I trust him with my life."

You sigh and lean into his chest, soaking up as much of his warmth and his scent before he has to leave.

"I'll call you. Every morning no matter where I am on the road. I'll call and we can talk while I eat my favorite breakfast," you smile when he points to the discarded box on the floor.

"Sounds wonderful, Buck," you press a kiss to his pec right above his heart. "And if you get lonely at night in those dusty, old motel rooms you can call me too."

He scoffs and smiles at your cheeky grin.

"Jesus, maybe my sugar ain't as sweet as I thought she was."

#bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fan fic #plus size fic #plus size!reader #plus size reader #bucky fic #bucky smut #bucky fan fic #bucky fanfic #my fics #BirthdayBashWritingChallenge #running away before i hate it #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes headcannon #bucky one shot #bucky headcannon

[gilverrwrites]

Their Perfect Dates HCs [Demon Edition]

Well.. demons + Benny

Rating: General

Angel Edition | Human Edition

Please remember: you can do hard things!

Belphegor

No gift, he’s from a time before that was a thing and does not care enough to check what the current trends are.

If you ask nice enough, he might bring you something next time.

Weirdly obsessed with humans however. (Just not in a ‘I wanna be like them’ way)

Find a cafe with outdoor seating in a highly populated area, and people watch.

Laugh at his jokes, and don’t be precious over your food/drink cause he’s gonna help himself.

‘Hot, not, not, HOT, extra hot.’ ‘This is so good, have you tried this?’ ‘It was yours? Oh shit, sorry. At least you have good taste… in multiple ways’ (he’d wink at you then, if he could.) ‘Ew have those pants ever in fashion?’ ‘Haha, did you see that kid face plant the side walk?! Get rekt’

Benny

He’s an old traditional man really, he’ll bring you a bouquet of daisies. Legitimately, if he could, he would ask your father for permission to take you out.

Cooking as has always been, and continues to be a big part of Benny's personality.

It doesn’t matter that the food no longer sustains him, because it keeps him connected to his home, and his history.

Plus, the way to any person's heart is through their stomach,

You’ll be in the kitchen together, cooking gumbo or jambalaya, and bananas foster for dessert.

If you don’t know how to cook, don’t worry. Benny is gonna take the lead anyway, he’ll teach you as much as you think you can handle.

He’s very respectful, but if you just so happen to brush against each other while working in the same space, well, that just can be helped now can it?

Or if you’re slightly in his way, sometimes he just needs to rest a gentle but firm hand on your hip and guide you to the side.

Or if you accidentally get something on your cheek? Your lip? He’ll have to get that for you.

Crowley

I’m picturing a rustic but sophisticated cabin in the woods.

Somewhere private, a safe space just for the two of you.

Something with a big, roaring fireplace.

A big, plush, velvety sofa, and an array of fluffy blankets, pillows, furs, rugs.

A fully stocked bar. ‘Don’t worry darling, you won’t have to lift a finger.’ He or a lesser demon will make all your drinks for you.

Just some real, 1 on 1 quality time together where you can both be vulnerable.

Whether you spend all night in deep conversation, cuddling, or getting even more intimate is your choice.

Meg

Would forget to bring you a gift, but if it goes well, she’ll likely give you one of her many pieces of jewelry, ‘Whatever you like most hun, just take it.’

I feel like she would actually really enjoy something creative, the messier the better.

Like finding a big open space, lowering the lights, laying down a big canvas, cracking open a bottle, and getting busy with some paints.

No brushes, just hands (or other body parts if you like).

Rowena

Gracing you with her presence is gift enough.

If anything, you should be bringing her a gift. Jewelry is always best, but she will settle for roses or red wine.

Rowena knows her worth, and if you don’t, then don’t waste her time.

She deserves nothing less than to be wined and dined somewhere very nice.

Followed by a show. The ballet or the opera.

Just imagine, the both of you dressed to the nines. Holding hands over the table, good food and drink, Rowena sharing stories from her time on earth.

Coffee or dessert? Both. Please and thank you.

Ruby

Would bring you candy, but you have to share.

Also a big foodie, but more eating, less cooking.

Like a street food market, or a boardwalk.

You can compete on the water guns and ring toss games to win each other prizes.

She’s only letting you win if there is something in it for her. – Particularly a prize that she wants.

Regardless of who wins what, you’re gonna be the one carrying everything.

Then stop at every food stand on the way.

Bonus points for somewhere that has proper french fries in large portions.

Afterwards, you can chat at the end of the peer, and/or make out under it. 

#spn belphegor #belphegor x reader #benny lafitte #benny lafitte x reader #spn crowley #spn crowley x reader #meg masters #meg master x reader #rowena macleod #rowena macleod x reader #spn ruby #spn ruby x reader #supernatural #supernatural headcanons #gilverrwrites

[jungle-angel]

Random College!Rhett headcannons: Part 1 (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Notes: I haven’t seen The Line yet, but I have seen comedies like “Animal House” and “Old School” so I’ve gotten alot of headcannons from that and as a result Frat!Rhett has been living in my head rent free. I was a little bit nervous to do this, but all the same, I’m glad I did (lol). Sorry if it’s a little long, I had to pack alot in (if you catch my drift, lol). 

Tagging: @sebsxphia @bradleybeachbabe​ @bobfloyds​

Rhett is the president of the Delta Tau Epsilon fraternity at one of the colleges in Montana and oh does that house have a rep (but in the funniest possible way of course)

Kayce Dutton is his right hand man, new pledges always go through Kayce before going to Rhett and when Rhett’s away, whatever Kayce says, goes

The guys in the frat were kinda nerdy in high school so Rhett and Kayce have a particularly soft spot for the nerds. They’re also really close with the nerd frat on campus and any time anybody needs extra tutoring, they go to them

When Rhett met you, you were kind of a shy little freshman who was two years behind him. He really, really liked you because you loved to hide out in the library but you also loved to go out and have a good time

Your first party at the house though?? Holy shit, did shenanigans ensue

It all started with the new pledges engaging in a challenge to see who could shotgun the most beers in under ten minutes. One poor freshman got beer up his nose and it ended with one of Rhett’s frat brothers having to take the kid into the bathroom to help him blow it all out his nose. The kid was ok but the brothers kept an eye on him the rest of the night and well into the next morning

Three other pledges were on their knees, hands behind their backs while Rhett, Kayce and another guy were up on the staircase balcony dropping flaming hot Cheetos from above and the guys having to catch them in their mouths

Sooooo many drinking games in the basement.....quarters, bloody knuckles, boom cup, kegstands (lol)

Some of the new pledges got a chance to show off their stand-up skills and some of them had the whole crowd in stitches by the end

When you and Rhett officially started dating, you became known as “The First Lady Of The Frat” 

And ever since then the guys call you Mom and Dad

If you stayed over and the newbies were getting too loud, the older ones would shush them and be like “Mom and Dad are asleep” 

One time one of the brothers who was on the football team threw his back out during practice and was laid up on the couch with a little bell to ring any time he needed something and it was literally every two seconds that he was ringing that bell. Kayce ended up having to take care of him most of the day while Rhett had to meet with the Dean of the History Department, which was annoying as hell 

Rhett: “RING THAT BELL ONE MORE TIME AND I’M STICKIN IT WHERE THE SUN DON’T SHINE!!!......Kayce: “DAD’S HOME!!!!” 

The morning after a rager, you often had to be on standby with the puke buckets which were a little less than pleasant

But oh did you make the best hangover breakfasts ever.....eggs, bacon, toast, sausage, coffee, a little bit of rosemary and olive oil bannock on the side. You’re everybody’s favorite cook which makes Rhett’s raging housewife kink flare up

When you’re cooking the hangover specials, he’ll come up behind you and pin you against the stove only to rub the raging hard-on packed into his Wranglers against the back of your thigh and against your ass

Had a long day and are kinda burned out from studying? Rhett will clean up his room and get it in a sexy mood before he lays you down on the bed and starts giving you a full body massage. If you need a hot bath, he’s running you one in the joint bathroom to help you relax. He’s tried out the mating press with you in the bathroom and it felt soooooo fucking good (lol)

On nights when the toga parties get a little too wild and you and Rhett need a moment, he’ll bring you up to his room which sometimes ends up with the two of you falling right into the bed 

There’s a heatwave hanging over the town and the campus? Rhett and his frat brothers will dig a big pit in the backyard, fill it with ice and let everybody relax in it. When it melts? MUD WRESTLING!!!!!!

If the heatwave lasts more than a week, Rhett and the guys gather everybody up and go down to the reservoir to make a giant slip n’ slide down into the water 

You had first dibs since you were the First Lady but as soon as you hit the water, you lost your bikini top. Rhett ended up diving in and searching for it only to come back up with your bikini top in his teeth and a big shit-eating grin on his face

When it’s tick season, Rhett will literally ram it into the guys heads that they’d better check themselves and each other before and after they go traipsing through the woods or high grass. If you’re trying to check an area that’s a little hard to reach, he’ll bring you upstairs to his room for a full on pussy inspection to make sure. He’s even got a kit that has a homemade oil mix in it that’ll kill the ticks. Sometimes he’ll just use it as an excuse to rub it all in there anyways just so he can hear you moan and get you off (lol)

When Rhett walks you home at night, the rest of the frat are stationed in the trees, in the bushes or in their vehicles parked on the side of the road to keep a watch out for the frat boys who are actual assholes 

And if Rhett can’t walk you home for one reason or another? Kayce and the rest of the boys basically become your secret service escort

But there was one night you knew you wouldn’t forget 

The guys were throwing a rager to blow off some steam after midterms

And they set up a dance floor in the middle of the living room

Everybody cleared the way for you and Rhett, the President and First Lady of Delta Tau Epsilon

You were almost in tears when the song started playing, looking into Rhett’s eyes as he whispered a very quiet “I love you”

When “Where The Streets Have No Name” by U2 started playing, you, Rhett and the whole house started jumping which shook the house (that was also the song that would play when the football team charged out into the stadium during a game)

And when you all started singing at the same time, it reminded you of a big stadium concert

But you and Rhett didn’t let go of each other the entire time, the both of you belting out the lyrics with the others

And ever since then, you, Rhett and his frat brothers remained close for the rest of your days

#outer range #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #kayce dutton #rhett abbott headcannons #rhett abbott x reader headcannons

[justawanderer]

Mike Change follows his friends to NYC for university-NYU Pre-Med with a shit ton of dance classes because his parents never said anything about a minor in the arts, only that he was expected to go to med school.

He has a solid support system in his glee friends but doesn’t mind branching out and is kinda excited to not be in Lima and to lean into who he is-he starts wearing the clothes he’s always wanted to wear, ones he bought on a secret shopping spree with Kurt on a summer steal away trip to Colombus their last spring break at home.

He lets Blaine talk him into a helix piercing when Blaine gets an earring and he loves having a family in New York.

A bunch of his dance class mates comment on it when he starts eating lunch with them. He feels a weird twinge in his chest when he notices half the compliments come from his fellow male dancers and realizes he doesn’t mind their attention.

But he also starts hanging out with an international students exchange club and meets Raphael and Ragnor and Catarina. He loves his glee friends but he’s starting to feel seen as his own person. Something that had been impossible in Lima and in HS.

He starts a study group with the beautiful Izzy in his Biology and Chem classes and becomes fast friends with her. He lets her do his make up and finds a thrilling sort of inner peace when he sees himself in eyeliner. She gushes and complains that her big brother would never let her do this.

He meets said big brother-a pre law giant of man (seriously taller than Finn!)- who glares at everything that’s not his sister, but smiles at Mike when he asks about the man’s archery medals. (Who the fuck is on an Olympic team and Doesn’t brag about it?!) Mikes chest twinges again and he tells himself it’s because Alec is the type of guy friend he’s always wanted.

He wakes himself up one Friday morning, sheets a damp mess with hazy memories of his dream but possibly Alec’s name on his lips. He shakes himself out of it and lets a pretty blonde ballerina from class push him into an empty bedroom at the party he attends that night.

He spends the next few weeks with all the various girls he dances with.

He spends an equal amount of Wednesday’s studying with Alec at a coffee shop-But! They both have that time free and they both like coffee and Mike’s never really made his own friends, they always adopt him, not the other way around! So that’s why he’s always so excited to see Alec.

It’s getting harder to lie to himself when the bottle he spins at the next party he’s at lands on a ginger ROTC guy named George. They make out to the cheers of the other partiers and Mike spends the night drunkenly telling himself that kissing is just an enjoyable thing. He spends the next morning soberly googling if a kiss makes you gay.

A couple more weeks, a couple more weekends spent with the dance girls, until Rachel and Kurt throw a NYADA midterms party and he only had a half a beer but let’s Kurt’s friend Imasu blow him in the bathroom. He tries to talk it away like the kiss-it feels good no matter who it is-until he’s on his knees reciprocating and finds he likes it as much as any other part of sex.

He skips that Wednesday with Alec and can’t explain why the “Hope you’re okay” text makes him ache when he ignores it.

He shuts down on himself, only hangs out with his known friends and throws himself into a short lived relationship with the blonde ballerina to try and keep himself “on track” when he walks in on her and their teacher. He wasn’t in love with her, but it does hurt and he definitely doesn’t want to be involved with whatever shit is going to hit the fan when the administration finds out about her.

He spends Halloween half drunk, crying and spilling all of this to Kurt and Blaine. They sit with him, cuddle him, drink with him. And they’re there with him when he finally says out loud that he’s Bisexual. They celebrate at 4 am with pancakes at the local all night diner.

He rejoins study group and explains himself to an icy Izzy who thaws and sends him a blinding smile and wraps him in a big hug.

Ragnor didn’t know that he didn’t know that he was bi but bucks him on the shoulder in solidarity. Cat hugs him and welcomes him back. Raphael tells him he doesn’t care as long as he doesn’t have to see any sappy shit.

On Wednesday he gets to their table early and buys Alec his stupid sweet caramel latte as an apology. He awkwardly stutters out an explanation and even more awkwardly comes out to the then man who is watching him with wide owlish eyes. Alec grins at him when he’s done and quietly comes out to Mike himself and if his whole being light up on the inside, then that’s Mike business alone.

He goes home at Thanksgiving and comes out to his family. He sister hugs him. His mom smiles kindly at him, but his father yells in a tone Mike’s never heard before. It’s ugly, it’s horribly painful and Mikes ready to get up and leave after his father vows to cut him off when his mother stands up for him. He leaves Lima with a hug from his mom and sister but totally disowned by his dad.

His mom’s parents step up to cover his expenses and tell him they don’t care who he loves and long as he’s successful and happy-San Francisco is good for them. He’ll keep his pre-med for now-he likes the idea of providing healthcare to those in need, but declare dance a double major to keep his options totally open.

He goes back to NYU and his friends and they mourn with him and rage with him and are there on his birthday when he moves to change his name in court so he doesn’t have to be tied to a man who hates him. (if his father wanted resort to Latin for insulting him, then he’s going to own that)

At the new year’s party he throws celebrating his new name and identity-he introduces himself as Magnus Bane and is greeted with an eager Alec grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket and kissing him In front of the whole party.

He walks into the new year a new man with an extended family he wouldn’t trade for anything and love he never saw coming.

#malec #mundane Malec #mundane Magnus bane origin story #glee crossover #I like when things are connected

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Hey! Could you do something about dating bill having Lorelai Gilmore's personality? Making jokes all the time, DRAMATIC and coffee loving? I need that and I love your writing!!!❤😭🛐

(sorry English is not my first language)

(Hello! Aw, thank you for reading my shit and liking my writing! And damn, you probably speak English better than me. Anyways, enjoy! P.S, I just went off ur description bc I have no idea who Lorelai Gilmore is 😭)

Lorelai Gilmore Personality Reader

You match Bills personality perfectly

It's like the same exact person met the one for them

And it's an exact replica!!

You guys may not have the same style, but man can you guys be entertaining

You guys cannot take shit seriously

You guys are constantly cracking jokes and making the band laugh

You guys have endless amounts of energy

You drink a lot of coffee and I think so does Bill

He has your usual order engraved in his head

Or he knows how to make yours the exact way you like it

And you're dramatic as he is!

Be that with outfits, personality, how you are on stage or just how you are

You guys are big and bold together

He admires that you don't care that people think you're too dramatic

You're in a fucking band that's more famous than they ever could, you can be as dramatic as you want

That concert with the water?

You were having the time of your life in it and doing whatever the hell you wanted as Bill did the same with you

You can't not make a joke out of everything

Sometimes it's downright inappropriate

Especially if you have dark humour like me

He has to hold on laughs so much in interviews he thinks he might suffocate

You and him egg on each other

You guys are trying to outdo the other all the time with your dramatic acts

Especially when saying you love each other or showing you love each other

You guys can scream it and throw shit at each other to prove your dramatic love

Seriously, you guys worry people

Sometimes you're scary off coffee

Bill hides from you if you're tired and haven't had any

The band fears for their life when you're like that

Georg barely made it out alive

Bill always does

He's Bill

#bill kaulitz imagines #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel georg #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel imagine #tokio hotel

[harlequinoccult]

coffee shop au?? ohoho please do elaborate~

basically, under the assumption this is like a 24hr coffeeshop/diner-

Xandin- a fucking cryptid. comes in at like 4am for a black coffee with an ungodly and concerning amount of espresso. Everyone is scared shitless of him despite him not doing anything. its the aura he exudes. gives a decent tip no matter what.

Yuuki- is really only there to socialize? is always hanging around to chat but never orders anything. leaves a huge tip anyway. The old folks adore him and he brings in a shit ton of business.

Andrew- he's a busy man, pops in to grab an americano for himself and whatever gimmicky sugar abomination is currently on the menu for Pitrio. The most patient and understanding customer ever. anyone being mean to the workers gets the coldest glare known to mankind. tips royally well

Claudia- Orders black coffee and requests that some grounds be put in it. a woman that is feared by god. give her one of those cute little croissants in the window there. no not the pretty one the fucked up looking one that kinda looks like a face. tips whoever served her directly in crumpled wads of cash.

Vylasia- ALL in for the dumbass gimmick drinks no matter how fucking stupid they are. Doesnt really go to coffee shops often so its always a novelty for her. ends up paying too much but just says to keep the change.

Cy- Despises how dependent on coffee they are but considering they have a clerical job it is a necessity. It's too early for this shit. they keep their sunglasses on indoors as they order a pitch black coffee. Tips with their card and just says to tip whatever percentage, they don't care.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Elysium- Comes in after his morning run, they should be ordering a green smoothie or some other healthy bullshit but he never does. Its always an iced coffee. everyday. they ordered the green smoothie once and the feeling of muted disgust was palpable. Tips generously as long as their order isn't fucked up

Black Dahlia- Not big on coffee, but will order a different tea on the menu everyday and judge them accordingly, especially the iced tea. This is a test, don't fuck it up. If the tea is up to her standards she will become a regular but somehow only shows up when business is slow and no one else is around. only tips if they tea is good.

Overdose- comes in at 2 in the morning and requests that their coffee be brewed with an energy drink. they will provide said energy drink if asked. adds a terrifying amount of sugar to their drink afterwards. beyond their coffee war crime they are easy to chat with and they enjoy shooting the shit with the employees. tips with one of those fake money cards with scripture as a joke but it does have actual money inside when you unfold it.

Cold- Orders a coffee with cream but no sugar. On days where they are not busy they will order their coffee and sit in a secluded spot with a novel until they have finished reading the entire thing. Once they are finished they will tip the same amount every time and silently leave.

Sweetheart- Comes in just to take a pitstop from riding but can be very easily swayed to order something. Not really knowledgeable on coffee but can be recommended a mocha or a latte. Would be delighted with any heart shaped coffee art. more of a weekly-ish regular than a daily one and his tips fluctuate greatly but he does always tip.

The Host- COFFEE SNOB. Will send a cup back if it isnt exactly right. They aren't rude but they are very exacting and will give a lecture on the intricacies of the drink they ordered, ignoring the fact there are other people in line. they need to just make their own coffee at home. tips astronomically well but at what cost.

#TVoL:Xandin #TVoL:Yuuki #TVoL:Andrew #TVoL:Claudia #TVoL:Vylasia #TVoL:Cy #SLSQ:Sweetheart #SLSQ:Elysium #SLSQ:Black Dahlia #SLSQ:Cold #SLSQ:Overdose #SLSQ:The Host

[cadencejames87]

Facials and First Impressions

Pairing: Sebastian x reader

Word Count: 693

Warnings: Talk of Facials, honestly I don’t know what this is, it has been sitting in my drafts for some time now and I just did a quick edit.

*Not beta’d, thus any and all mistakes are my own*

Sebastian casts his party playlist onto the television and pockets his cell phone as he turns to wash the dishes you both made while cooking dinner and putting together appetizers.

Toby grazes happily with a drink in hand. "You ever have one of those?"

"You know there is no scientific evidence that proves it's good for your skin, right?" You continue to put the finishing touches on a charcuterie board that Toby insists on consuming.

"No way, they totally do that shit at spas," he argues, tossing a grape into his mouth. Sebastian shakes his head and laughs as he dries his hands, leaning back against the counter. Toby gives his longtime friend a shrug. "I mean, I’m asking for her honest opinion on the matter."

"Who would pay for that?" Seb asks him.

"That’s what I’m saying," he extends the last word as if to add emphasis. "I give my girl one for free every night," Toby burst into hysterics.

"Every night?" You question with doubt.

"The only thing Toby gives his girl every night is a migraine." Penn jests as he returns from the fire escape after a business call pulled him away.

"Hardy har, buddy." Penn pats Toby on the shoulder and holds up his glass. The two men tap their glasses together and make up.

You clean up a few items from the kitchen island and place them into the fridge. "You seriously want your girl to walk around the house with your product on her face?"

"I’m no expert on how it’s done. And it's not like she needs to tell me. I heard some women even refrigerate it."

You glance over at Sebastian, now pouring wine into a pair of matching glasses. "No expert, huh, says the guy who apparently does it every night." You look back at Toby. "Like you are really going to finish and go about your day or get ready for bed or whatever the hell it is you do at whatever time of day this happens while your girlfriend lets it dry? She’ll be pouring you a cup of coffee, and your immediate reaction to seeing her with a mask made from your special serum would be to tell her to wash that shit off as it flakes and falls into your mug a la Mrs. Doubtfire."

Sebastian and Penn laugh at your point. "I guess when you put it that way, it does sound disgusting."

"Which part? Your girl caking on the jizz as a part of her skincare routine or drinking your own semen?" Penn asks and has everyone turn to Toby for the answer.

"All right, well, skin care facials are out. But, are you telling me you would never let Sebastian give you a good old-fashioned facial?"

Sebastian glares at Toby in a warning. His friend is walking a thin line with his girl. "Hey--" He shakes his head, brows furrowed.

"Way to not answer the question, Tobes. I’m just saying, if my man wants to give me a facial, I’m not gonna be one of those girls who rubs it into their face like moisturizer and walk around like an idiot when he does." Sebastian hands you a glass of wine, and you take a sip. "I tell you one thing, I would much rather swallow than waste a drop." You smirk at Sebastian as he nearly chokes on his wine and turns a bright shade of red. "However, if it is something he really wants to try," you shrug as you turn back to Penn and Toby. "I’ll close my eyes and pray for the best."

Sebastian wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck. "Bad girl," he whispers for only you to hear.

Toby raises his drink as Sebastian looks up. "She’s a keeper," he winks.

"I guess that means I passed the best friend test." You giggle, taking another sip of your wine.

Sebastian trails kisses from your neck to your shoulder and raises his glass to salute his friend as you turn your head. He kisses your lips, and the glasses ring out. "You pass all the tests, Draga. Toby, on the other hand, needs a lesson in first impressions.

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Sebastian Stan x female reader

[onetimetwotimesthreetimess]

okay okay so in shrek forever after shrek has like one day to revert the magic and return the world to its original state or it become permanent for good (the only way to revert the magic is with true love kiss btw). what if magnus only realize his previous unmagicified life with alec like 5 minutes before it’s a new day. what then

Part I

Part III

Three months. It’s been three months since Magnus has been living with a huge ass whole inside his chest. Like he went for a surgery where the doctors cut him open but never stitched him back again.

Only the insane part about all of this is that Magnus doesn’t even remember the surgery he went in for.

He’s so fucking sure something is going on, that’s he’s losing it but there’s no one he can go to—no one he can confide in with this problem because how do you solve an issue that doesn’t even exist outside his mind.

But even if Magnus doesn’t understand most things, doesn’t have enough clues, one thing he is absolutely sure about. That this, all of this, connect to one man.

Alexander Gideon Lightwood.

Ever since that Magnus met the man, he’s been feeling a hundred different kinds of way.

And he knows he has a tendency to exaggerate, has time and again blew things out of proportion for an infatuation or attraction but this isn’t it. While he knows he’s attracted to Alec and would love to climb him, he knows whatever this is, isn’t his libido making him feel.

This is something far deeper, far more significant.

“Magnus?” A voice, the voice brings him back from his thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Where did you go?” Alec asks. “We were discussing about the issue with the demon towers in Alicante.”

“Yes, of course. My apologies, Alexander,” he exhales.

“That’s okay.” Alec takes another sip of his drinks and winces, like he does every time.

I should have made him that other drink.

He’s been having random thoughts like this all the time.

That Alec would prefer a cocktail over this beer he keeps on asking for.

That he would like chocolate bars.

Or that he would like his coffee better if he’d put two cubes of sugar instead of one.

He doesn’t know why but he keeps on thinking he knows more about Alec than he does and what an insane fucking thought is that?

He finally goes to Catarina with this. It surprises him when Catarina doesn’t dismiss him.

“Weirder things have happened in our world, Magnus. If you think something is wrong, we should atleast check it.”

He pulls Cat in a hug, relieved that she believes him. Because of Cat doesn’t believe Magnus, what choices does he have left with?

They go over all the possible theories but come up with nothing.

And then everything goes to shit one fine night as the lot of shadowhunter stands in Magnus’s loft for a demon summoning.

Magnus remembers a demon summoning between the very same loft, one that hadn’t ended well. He’d hoped that this one would be different.

He’s proved wrong not ten minutes later when a memory of the person you loved the most resurfaces for everyone to see.

A memory of Clary smiling appears from Jace’s mind.

A memory of Simon and Alec laughing together from Isabelle.

Magnus sees a small smile appear on Alec’s face at the memory.

It’s Alec’s turn and there’s a memory of Isabelle and Jace and Max.

He expects Alec to smile at the memory but a sad smile appears on his face and Magnus wonders for a second before his heart breaks. He imagines how suffocating and heartbreaking it must be to be married and not in love.

Alec and Lydia do not love each other is a fact that Magnus picked up on very quickly. It’s a marriage of convenience.

He thinks of Alec’s rare smiles that he’s only ever witnessed occasionally. Alec is smart and beautiful and has a dry sense of humour that never fails to make him laugh.

He’s fighting for a better world for shadowhunters and downworlders. He fights every single minute of his life with the world and Magnus wishes that the man had one place, in his home, with his partner where he didn’t have to fight.

Alec sniffles at the memory and looks away but there’s a second when both their eyes match. Magnus looks away for he can’t see Alec in pain and it’s insane because he barely knows the man.

They’ve formed an easy friendship now but that’s what it is—a friendship. Because Alec is married, even if it’s in name, there are lines that Magnus would never cross. And Alec doesn’t seem the type to either.

Then Simon and Clary’s turn comes and for both of them, it’s a memory of the other one. They exchange a beautiful smile at that.

And then in an instant, everything turns to hell when it’s his turn because this time, it’s a memory of Alec.

It’s from one of those rare days when Alec laughed in a way that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. The memory focuses on Alec’s faces and anyone with a single functioning braincell could feel Magnus’s feelings.

“What the fuck?” Jace yells, followed by everyone else.

Alec breaks the circle as he stands up, his eyes widen, face filled with horror.

“Magnus—what?”

He looks embarrassed and it quickly changes to anger. “How could you—what?” Alec tries but nothing else comes up.

“Alexander, listen,” Magnus swallows, knowing that if Alec leaves, he’s never going to be able to fix this. Even though he doesn’t know what this is—he needs Alec to stay. “I know this must all be confusing. It’s for me as well but I think that there’s more to what we’re seeing. There’s something between us and I—-“

Alec raises a hand.

There’s a pin drop of silence before Alec stares at him, fire in his eyes as he says, “Don’t ever come near me again.”

Isabelle and Jace’s eyes sadden suddenly, as if they know, and he’s sure they know why Alec is so shocked about this. Isabelle puts a comforting hand on his shoulder before they all leave.

Clary tries to stay but Magnus asks her to leave.

He needs time.

He falls to the floor, clutching his head in his hand as he tries to figure out what’s wrong. He yells out of despair, of feeling like he’s living with half his organs, half his mind, half his memories and all the pain let’s him to lose control and Magnus unleashes his magic onto the world. He needs to get Alec out of his brain so he wracks inside his brain and takes out all the memories of Alec, from every pit and crevice inside his brain and throws them outside.

A few second in, Magnus is surrounded by blue magic around him, memories and memories of Alec around him. Magnus’s eyes widen as he goes through them.

There are hundreds of memories and he knows for a fact that while these are his memories, he doesn’t remember living them.

There’s his first meeting with Alec. First—first meeting.

Alec and Magnus playing polo.

Alec grinning as he cooks French roast for them.

Dancing.

Alec almost dying. Multiple times.

Magnus in Edom. Alec in Edom.

Smiles and happiness and love—so much love.

The one that completely breaks Magnus’s heart is the one where they’re getting married.

And their wedding night.

Alec becoming Inquisitor and kissing the daylights out of him when he tells him.

Then the memories turn more somber. Darker. Sadder.

“I want to go home.” “This is home, Magnus.”

He doesn’t even have to wait, he knows the words already on his lips.

“I wish I had never married you, Alexander.”

And Magnus remembers.

He remembers why it’s been feeling like he’s living without his heart—because he was. His heart was living outside his body, in a world that’s created by Magnus’s anger and despair.

One moment of weakness and Magnus’s entire life changed.

By his own doing.

“Alexander,” Magnus falls to the ground and cries for his husband. “What did I do?“

After a few hours of lying on the floor mourning his life, Magnus goes to Cat.

He tells her everything and cries in her arms. “Cat, Alec—Alec is my husband. I remember. I remember him. Please I need to—I need to fix this. I need him back,” he cries.

It’s an ancient curse is what their research tells them. Now that he remembers, it’s easier to find the source.

“I need to talk to Alec…I—“

A huge gasp leaves Catarina’s mouth and he turns.

“Catarina what? What now?”

“It’s 11:55pm.”

“And?”

“Fuck!” Cat exclaims.

“Catarina, what?”

“I’m sorry, Magnus. But tomorrow morning, you won’t remember him.”

“What?” He says in horror.

“The memories will be lost forever.”

Alec will be lost forever.

#look what u made me do anh #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood

[cator99]

Also they're training this guy LMAO oh my God I can't even begin to describe what they're trying to do with this man other than like the workplace equivalent of like drawing and quartering him it's hilarious initially they hired him as a delivery driver you know because they decided to completely fucking redesign our delivery system because miscommunications kept happening between us and the independent company that used to do all of our deliveries so much so that this company threatened to stop working with us apparently anyways all of this could be avoided if we simply were not severely (intentionally) understaffed- so they hired this guy. I came to work last week and they were training him on the till and he was losing his mind because he's never done anything like this before he from the sounds of it's his only ever been a delivery guy that's his specialty and then after an hour on the till they figured certainly that's enough time for him to have mastered it so they put him on the espresso bar he's never made a drink in his life and all of this was incredible because it meant that my boss was busy micro managing someone else for a change! And this time she has every reason to be because he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing and this also means that I get to do my morning tasks and I get to focus solely on them instead of running between back of house sandwich prep and tray cleaning and food station prep and like literally everything front of house that I'm supposed to do while juggling working at the cash register and on the Espresso Bar until my one front of house coworker arrives at 9am but this day I managed to do all of that before my co-worker even arrived it was miraculous and I got to do all of this while watching my boss try and fail to make the drinks that I make with ease while she criticizes me for not finding something to do during the 30 seconds the espresso shot is pouring or the milk is steaming literally she has come up to me before and said don't just stand there you could be doing something during that 30 seconds like girl it's 30 seconds let me make sure the shot is pouring properly because this machine is so screwed up that sometimes it will just pour a shot in 10 seconds that's not right you can't use that sometimes it'll take 50 seconds to pour and sometimes it will straight up just jam and then I have to fix it which involves me stirring the beans pressing the button repeat repeat until the error message goes away and then it has to go through this weird process of cleaning itself anyways great joy in watching her flop at doing my job. Then the next day I come in and this guy is in the kitchen stirring some shit in a pot and learning how to make some fucking pastries I'm entirely confused as to what his job is everyone is he is too in fact he just does whatever they say and he does it poorly but he does it and that's what matters he's getting his paycheck whether they psychologically torture him or not they are by the way I've done it too when he was learning how to use the till he asked me to pretend to be a customer and you would not believe what I put this man through. Today he was back on the espresso bar being subjected to cruel and unusual coffee punishments and then he was making muffins I think and then he was driving around doing deliveries and every time I saw him he looked like he was about to piss his pants

[electricbluebutterflies]

Garcy + "You need to take your health more seriously."

Usual post-canon-divergence, PG-ish, and also on ao3.

He worries her.

This is not a problem Lucy is used to having, or perhaps a capability, she’s not sure how to categorize or describe any of this, and… the discovery of new emotional potential courtesy of that man should stop feeling so surprising. He brings out dimensions of herself that she didn’t know were there, more of them good than bad, and-

Everyone who’s ever told her that she’s a self-care disaster can get gone as far as she’s concerned. At least she responds to being told as much. Unlike some people.

To be fair, Flynn functions on a level of input that is… frankly horrifying, now that they are loose in the normal world again and she’s pretty sure their hesitant domestic arrangement hinges on the fact that they’re very good at saving each other from themselves. Responses to substances at least make an amount of sense; of course someone roughly twice her size is going to be able to comfortably out-drink her, and coffee black enough to be a different consistency somehow does nothing. It’s the rest of it, the growing secondhand realization that he’s not totally in touch with his body, above all the not sleeping enough, above all-

Going to bed, yes, fine. There have been no complaints about the fact that she does not like sleeping alone and ideally she’d like to be held. But she’s noticed she always falls asleep first and wakes up last and her own habits really aren’t that great either and-

Is this something she gets to have an opinion about? Is she allowed to be difficult about something she knows is probably, at least in part, like all the other weird shit both of them do, a trauma thing?

She decides it is, after enough time has passed, after probably too much time, after she starts to accept that they probably can’t get rid of each other.

It’s been one of those days, a perfectly good weekend afternoon wasted on chasing a stubborn bat out of the attic, always something to do in this restart she’d intentionally decided would happen in a part of the country neither of them has any real history in because that was supposed to help them reacclimate, and now it’s late and she’s pretty sure she’s going to hallucinate bat noises for a couple days but she is sure she saw the damn thing fly out the vent, and-

“Come to bed with me,” she says. This part she has under control, this part she knows her partner will do what she wants. So tangled around her fingertips, some combination of fate and guilt and-

They’re good at this, domestic routines and so much quiet, and she thinks sometimes that accidental-roommates-with-mutual-unspoken-crushes is a stage all relationships ought to go through because it’s made them stronger now, and-

“Try to rest,” she murmurs as their bodies shift together, just a hint of that demanding voice she tries to use so cautiously. “Please. For me.”

He opens his mouth like he’s about to give her some sweet reassurance of a lie, and she’s just not in the mood. They survived a goddamned time war; they can survive what might turn into the first argument they’ve had afterwards that did not involve paint or overconfidence with electrical or-

“Don’t… you do not get to talk your way out of this. You need to take your health more seriously, and you don’t-“

“Lu-“

“Don’t. Whatever the hell nightmares… I’m here. We are here. And I am so worried and-“

At least he has the sense not to fight her, at least for now. She knows this isn’t over – it’s them, nothing is ever over – but she knows the look in his eyes, the yes-ma’am of it all, and so help her she will not fix him but-

“I’ll try. For you.”

“I’m keeping my eyes open until yours are closed, understand?”

“That may be a while.”

“That’s your problem.”

She flips the light, and it is objectively a little harder to read the situation in the dark, but… she does know him, sleep next to someone most nights for two years and you know them, and she waits until breathing patterns change and the arm around her waist loosens just a little.

At best this is a temporary victory, but it’s something. She has her issues too, and-

The worrying won’t ever stop – at best it’ll change form – but at least for tonight she’s won. At least it’s something.

#ebf writes fic #garcy #queue

[vancilocs]

1-20 for kabal and neja?

this new mouse..... the Power i have

What is your character's reaction to a minor inconvenience? Such as getting their jumper caught on a door handle?

Oop, lol. Carry on

She stops for a moment to think if she could modify the thing somehow to get rid of the inconvenience but loses interest quick

Tea, coffee, hot chocolate or other?

Coffee, black

Coffee with plenty of cream

What does their safe space look like?

Hanging out at Hafza's apartment doing parallel play with her

Home, under a blanket on the couch, assuming ownership of the TV remote

What do they consider to be an unforgivable action? Why?

General unforgivable crimes

Do they have any nicknames or pet names or other aliases?

Dad or old man by Hafza, boytoy or baby daddy by Mehara, probably babygirl by Zephi

Yecal can call her whatever cutesy names he likes

What kind of books comfort them? What books help them heal after a hard day?

Doesn't really read other things than motorbike manuals/catalogues and the occasional harlequin romance book

She checks out a biography or a nonfiction book from the library sometimes and reads those

Are they a naturally assertive person or are they painfully shy?

Very mellow and easygoing and can settle into a situation

Also outgoing and easy to talk to, can be assertive when needed but it's another thing if she's taken seriously

Do they consider themselves a friendly person or aloof?

Friendly, he might watch from the sidelines but is easy to approach

Very friendly, a stranger is just a friend you haven't met

What is your character's trigger point? What makes them angry, sad or makes them go off?

Talk shit about his family or loved ones

Doubt her skill, insult her, insult her loved ones

What kind of jokes make them laugh?

Anything except jokes that are sexist or racist or any other kind of -ist

Easy to make laugh with any acceptable joke but especially appreciates puns related to her work

Do they enjoy pranks or do they hate them? Are they likely to fall for a prank?

Loves when he's caught in a harmless prank, damn you got me. Kinda savvy so he's hard to catch in one though (but he might play along)

Likes small harmless pranks

Are they an overall healthy person? Do they make for a good patient or a terror?

He's pretty healthy, sure he's got a spare wheel around his waist and his diet is questionable but he doesn't smoke, doesn't drink and does his stretches, keeps his brain bright also. Doesn't go to the doctor often but doesn't complain either

She's quite healthy, and a good patient

Describe your character's typical wardrobe for the regular day.

A softening layer underneath, driving gear on top

Comfy clothes and then work overalls on top, she can just leave the overalls when she goes back home

Are they a simple person to please or difficult?

Very simple, just time is enough for him

Simple, sure she likes to receive things but is happy without

What is the first thing people notice about them?

Mainly the birthmark over his eye

Size, oddly coloured for a chissadian

What do they look for in a friend? A love interest?

Just looks for a cool person to hang out, have drinks and chat with, if there's more he's willing to go along

Everyone is a potential friend, either someone who talks as much as she does or is willing to listen quietly. For a love interest she wants someone she can look after and who looks after her

Who are they soft for? Do they find being soft easy or difficult?

Very soft for Hafza, she can't escape dad's love whenever he's around. Isn't particularly soft but it's not something he abhors either

Soft for her family, very soft for Yecal, revels in it

Describe your character through a Brooklyn 99 gif or line.

What does your character consider to be their lowest point?

Being barely an adult and being told you're gonna be a dad

Out of money, out of a place to stay, out of phone battery, in a strange place, it wasn't always easy for her out on her own

Does your character have a comfort item?

A clay pendant Hafza made in kindergarten and he's kept in his breast pocket since, it's got a little dent in the middle from him rubbing it with his thumb for years

A bolt she screwed a nut on and uses as a fidget toy, screwing it up and down in her pocket

#they'd get along like a house on fire tbh #long oc thing

[nevalizona]

Okokok so this one needs a little more of an introduction than just my normal sentence or whatever but this is roughly 5 pages of a fic I wrote, to explore Jesús and Ivy Nicole more. They are the main focus but there is a 'Margie' mentioned but she is not important. Maybe one day I'll make a post about her but probably not.

Pardon any errors.

Ivy Nicole sat at a small diner, the place was always an easy breakfast stop. She doesn’t know how many times she’s eaten here since she moved to New Bordeaux. She isn’t very happy that a certain someone was sitting across from her, a woman named Margie. She’s an older woman that knows the man Ivy Nicole has been hooking up with. Apparently they’re best friends or something, but none of that matters to Ivy Nicole since she knows that they have to be more than friends. Friends don’t stick their dicks in their other friends, as far as Ivy is concerned. She’s doing this as a favor to him, she wouldn’t be doing this on her own volition. He means a lot to her, so here she is.

“You got good taste, Ivy Nicole. This place is pretty good. I didn’t take you for the ‘diner breakfast’ type. You look like you’d go to an, oh I don’t know, full on restaurant or something.” Margie said as she took a sip of her coffee, she drank it with a lot of cream, barely any sugar.

“What do you know about good taste?” Ivy snorted, looking over the menu, still trying to decide what she wanted.

“You know, Ivy Nicole, you don’t gotta be like that. You’ve been so… cold towards me and I don’t get it. I’ve been nothing but nice to you. The way Robert talks about you,’ she shook her head, ‘just… guess he’s got those rose tinted glasses on or whatever ‘cause you’re not very nice.” She played with her mug as she spoke.

Ivy Nicole felt a tinge of guilt but responded with a snort.

“Whatever you old hag. You’re just mad that Robert likes me better. But, let’s be real for a second, he isn’t a prize. He’s a great guy, I like him a lot, but he certainly isn’t worth this.” Ivy Nicole pointed to herself and then to Margie.

“This?”

“Yeah, you being jealous. No need for it.” Ivy Nicole waved Margie off dismissively as she took a drink of her own coffee. Cream and lots of sugar.

Margie raised her eyebrows and shook her head as she took another drink.

“That confidence… It's a good thing but it ain’t pretty. Other women see through that shit in a second, darling.” Margie reached out and set her hand on top of Ivy Nicole’s.

Ivy tugged her hand away from Margie’s.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“You aren’t foolin’ any ladies the way you do with the men. I know deep down Ivy Nicole, you’re a scared little kitten. You should try to be nice to other women instead of treating them like competition. Like you said, Robert isn’t a prize. I don’t like him like that, he’s, he’s my best friend.” She said softly looking into her coffee.

Ivy Nicole rolled her eyes.

She looked over at the door that jingled, immediately her stomach dropped. She knows that skinny lanky man anywhere, she’s had to see him way too much lately. She looked away quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice her.

He walked up to the lady that seats people, leaning on her little podium, probably flirting with her, it’s what he always does. Ivy Nicole couldn’t help but wish she could turn invisible. She sank down in the booth a little. The hostess smiled at him and grabbed a menu, walking him over to a table. Ivy Nicole couldn’t take her eyes off him, she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He looked her way for a second, and she turned to look somewhere else quickly. He looked back over to where she sat, a small smile slipping onto his face.

“--Really though Ivy Nicole, you seem like a great woman. I really do think we’d get along.” Ivy Nicole pulled her attention back to Margie who seemed to be going on about something.

“Yeah, I hear you. I hear you.” Ivy Nicole, grumbled, fighting the urge to look towards where he sat.

Margie sucked on her teeth and shook her head.

“God, you two are something else. You guys act like an old married couple. He’s seeping into you, and you’re seeping into him. Soon you guys are gonna be one amalgamation.” Margie shook her head as she spoke.

“What? Are you still talking over there? Why don’t you just pick what you want so we can fuckin’ order already.” Ivy groaned.

“Miss Ivy Nicole, I don’t know if you remember, but you’re the one holding us back baby. I know what I want, and I have since we came in. You were the one that couldn’t decide if you wanted something sweet or savory.”

“I th-”

“Ooo, go for something sweet. Breakfast should always be a little sweet.” Jesús said as he walked up, running his hand over his hair, toothpick in his mouth like always.

“What are you doing here?” Ivy Nicole asked, squinting her eyes at him.

“Can’t a man want some breakfast. Hey mama, can you scoot over a little? I need to talk to my friend.” He said, gesturing for Margie to move over.

“And you are?” She asked, looking annoyed.

“Me? Shit, sorry. Jesús King.” He held his hand out.

“Margie, nice to meet you.” She said as she placed her hand in his.

“It certainly is…” He said, a smile slipping onto his face, eyes obviously dropping down to her cleavage.

“What do you want?” Ivy Nicole asked, feeling annoyed. He looked over at Ivy, dropping Maggie’s hand and sliding into the booth.

“Why you always gotta be so cold, Ivy Nicole. Maybe I just wanted to talk to you. You know mama, a little bit of warmth will take you far in life.” The toothpick in his mouth bobbed as he talked, his posture terrible, practically hanging over the table.

“Spit it out.”

“Okay, okay, sheesh.’ He leaned back so he was resting against the booth.’ I need you to talk to Lincoln for me. I need to sit down with him.” He looked out the window as he spoke.

“And you need me to do that shit for you?”

“Ivy Nicole, baby, he actually likes you. Can’t you do that for me?” He moved so he leaned forward again, his palms pressed against the table.

“When did I become the middleman ‘tween you two?” 

Jesús looked at Margie for a second.

“Hey mama, can you do me a favor and go to my table and order me a coffee. When she brings it to you, pour sugar in for about five mississippis. I gotta talk to Ivy Nicole, okay?” He asked, getting out of the booth so she could slide out.

She rolled her eyes but went.

“Why you hanging out with that old bag anyways? I mean she’s hot and all, a great set of tits on her, but she don’t really seem like your type.” He said as he slid into the booth.

“She’s Robert’s friend and he wants us to get along better.” She grimaced.

“Robert? That your boyfriend?”

She smiled at him but shook her head ‘no’.

“He’s just a guy I’ve been hooking up with. You know I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah but I mean things change. You’re a beautiful girl, Ivy Nicole, I’m sure you got people throwing themselves at you constantly.” He smiled and it seemed almost sheepish.

“You don’t even know the half of it. What did you want to talk to me about?” She looked less happy than she had before. Jesús immediately felt like he did something wrong.

“Hey did I upset you or somethin’? I didn’t mean it, whatever I did.” He said softly, pulling his toothpick out of his mouth.

“No, you didn’t do anything. What do you want?”

He looked at her for a few seconds before continuing. He popped the toothpick back in his mouth and shrugged.

“You know, that Lincoln is a hardass. He’s a piece of shit. I work hard, bust my ass trying to get him what I gotta kick up to him, which by the way, I always include a little extra, and I ask for just a little more territory and he fuckin’ goes nuts. Has Vito’s men talkin’ to me ‘bout ‘steppin’ outta line’ like what the fuck?” Jesús is very animated when he talks, it’s amusing to watch.

“And what am I supposed to do about that?”

“Mama, think about it. I ain’t askin’ you to, ya know, convince him to let me have a little more territory, I just need you to get us a sit down. You think you could do that, baby girl?” He asked, eyes big and bright, like a puppy.

Ivy Nicole smiled and shook her head.

“How can I say no to you, Jesús? I’ll talk to Lincoln okay? But you gotta promise me you’ll be on your best behavior. I’m putting my neck on the line for you. Lincoln likes me, we have history, but I’m not involved in that world, so stop trying to bring me into it.” Ivy Nicole said, pointing at him.

He raised his hands as if to surrender.

“Look mama, I trust you. I respect you not bein’ a part of this life. I do. But I need you on my side of the ring. I got to have someone pulling for me. If I ain’t got you, I got no one. That’s the thing about this life, baby, you always gotta have someone.”

“You had no one before me.”

“And look how that turned out, baby! You’re real special to Lincoln, I know that. I ain’t tryin’ to get you two all messed up. I’m not. I respect y’alls history. I do. But you and me, mama, we’re the new team. You ain’t doin’ anything, just puttin’ in good word for me.” He reached over and grabbed Ivy Nicole’s hand in his.

“You’re too much, Jesús. Too much.” She smiled at him, letting him hold her hands. She can feel all his rings and even a touch of his heartbeat. For some reason she has a soft spot for this guy, she doesn’t know why.

“You can handle me, mama. I know it.” He wiggled his eyebrows and pressed a kiss against her soft hands, before setting them gently back down on the table.

“Guess I better go tell the old woman she can come back. Thank you for your time, Miss Harris, I know it’s precious.” He said with a wink as he got out of the booth.

“Be safe out there, Jesús.”

“I always am, mama. Don’t you worry.” He said as he grabbed the cigarette from behind his ear, pulling out a lighter from his pocket and lighting it as he walked back to his table.

Ivy Nicole tried to calm down her beating heart.

“Who was that guy?” Margie asked, as she sat back at the booth.

“A coworker of a friend. No biggy. He thinks you’re hot.” Ivy teased.

“Oh yeah? He’s a little too young for me.” Margie waved him off dismissively.

“Plus, he makes my gut feel terrible.”

-

Ivy Nicole stood outside of Sammy’s bar smoking a cigarette, she’s waiting for Lincoln to show up. It’s a nice warm day outside, muggy as usual. She’s shy for some reason, nervous about what Lincoln’s gonna say. He doesn’t like her sticking up for Jesús so much. In fact he’s downright said to stop, ‘cause he ain’t someone she should be messing around with. Ivy Nicole never listens, so of course, she’s sticking up for him again. Lincoln’s black Drifter pulled up next to Ivy Nicole.

“Lookin’ for a ride, beautiful?” He asked, his world class smile slipping onto his face with ease.

She took a drag and blew some smoke in the opposite direction as she shook her head ‘no’. She already felt worse about this whole thing. He seems like he’s in a good mood.

“Alright then, let me park and we can talk, alright?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be here.” She smiled at him, feeling her cheeks go red as he pulled around the corner and into the garage. She still has such a big dumb crush on him, even though she knows she and him won’t work out. They've been there, done that, but still her heart just bangs when she looks at him.

“How can I help you, Miss Ivy Nicole?” Lincoln said as he grabbed her cigarette and took a drag.

“I had breakfast with Margie today-”

“That’s Marshall’s old prostitute friend right?” He asked, blowing some smoke, as he spoke.

“Uh huh. He wants us to get along better, so we went out. Well, while we were out Jesús showed up and --”

“Don’t. He wants to talk to me, he can do it himself. He’s no good, Ivy Nicole.” Lincoln passed Ivy back her cigarette.

“I know, but he says you aren’t listening to him. He just wants to have a sit down, apparently.” Ivy Nicole shrugged, as she took another drag.

“I don’t want you getting tangled up in this shit, Ivy. This life ain’t for you and you know it.”

“I’m not--”

“He’s gonna pull you into it. Stop talking to him. He’s a piece of shit.” Lincoln looked right at Ivy Nicole as he said that. She nodded her head slowly, she knew he had a point. She should listen to him, she cares about Lincoln far more than some sleazeball but for some reason, she still wanted to help Jesús out.

“Will you talk to him, please Lincoln, for me?”

He shook his head.

“I don’t know why you’re pulling for this guy so hard, but I’ll do it, cause you asked.” Lincoln looked down at her, gentle as always.

Ivy Nicole is not a smart woman. In fact, she lets her emotions control almost every action she does. Sometimes though, she uses her head. Doesn’t make stupid decisions. She wants to get up on her tippy toes and kiss Lincoln, pressing him against the building and kiss him like her life depended on it.  But that wouldn’t be smart. It’s dumb. She and him need to work on themselves before they try being together again. Kissing will just complicate things, especially since kissing will lead to sex. As much as she wants Lincoln to jump in her bones, she has got to chill. Save these feelings for another day. Instead she just pulls him into a hug, and he cautiously hugs her back.

#stevie.txt #text #stevie writes #m*fia game #ivy nicole harris #jesús king

[quickhacked]

🌹 🌾 🌸 and 🌼 for whoever you want (^:

THANK U AUAUGH i am going to do something unhinged and actually pick a different blorbo than my cyberpunk blorbos. behold. [searches frantically through my pockets] my perfect little princess

🌹 where in the world does your oc feel most at home? is there any reason why? if it’s not the place they were born, where were they born? is there a certain somebody that makes them feel at home where ever they may be? what does home mean to them?

nathan feels most at home when he's with his friends :) he's not the most social guy in the world but he likes being around others, even if he's just sitting there listening to others talk. a close second is his shitty little apartment, it literally fucking sucks and you can barely call it an apartment actually and it's probably just always cold in there and he probably has water damage on his ceiling and it probably smells a little funny in the bathroom but holy shit it's HIS shitty apartment, and he feels safe there and away from the rest of the world and that feels nice <3 a little isolating sometimes but that's why he also hangs out with friends on occasion <3

home to him is like a safehouse; he needs to feel safe, and whether that is a place or a person or whatever doesn't really matter, as long as he feels safe he can, and will, call it home

🌾 describe your oc through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them

now this would be fun if i were to describe him through the eyes of [redacted] but i will refrain from doing so because i don't know how he would talk LMFAO i mean i do know because he's just an oc at this point and i'm man enough to admit that but like. i shan't do it. not yet. so have my interpretation instead <3

so! nathan is not really your average looking guy, he's got a unique and interesting look to him which easily catches people's attention. he's got very pretty pale blue eyes and even though he doesn't smile a lot it is a very very pretty smile, he's got a dimple in his right cheek when he smiles <3 he's very dedicated to things he cares about and is very practical, he's just so good at so many things it's like it's effortless for him y'know ahaha xoxo and he's sooooo sexy in combat have you seen him covered in blood?? you should actually it's a great look on him <33 his lips are very kissable. his facial hair is a little pathetic but that's ok i forgive him mine is too

🌸 what are some of their favorite things and why? list as many as you can think of!

nathan loves cold weather, he really enjoys snow and rain as well and just freezing temperatures in general because it allows him to put on so so many layers. and he loves that <3 he enjoys listening to music and can generally listen to anything, he's not very picky and can enjoy any type of genre if he just vibes with the song. he likes coffee and secretly still likes smoking but doesn't do it anymore, he does really like alcohol and drinks that whenever lmfao preferably with his coffee <3 i hate him <3 he also likes pretty weapons. would never admit that though because he actually also doesn't like weapons all that much but if he had to pick weapons he picks pretty weapons if that makes sense. he also really likes flowers and he likes picking flowers but would also rather die than admit this. and he likes hugs but he's bad at giving hugs :( but his friends know this and give him a lot of hugs all the time because they want him to feel loved <3 he also likes biting people

🌼 who are this characters friends and found family? how did they meet, how long have they been friends for, could they ever be something more than just friends? what do they look for in a friend or a romantic partner?

now this is where things get interesting lmfao since we don't have the evil within 3 i just made one up myself and no i won't elaborate but tl;dr so many people are actually just still alive and they're all just there. because i said so. and STEM works in ~weird ways~ so i choose to believe so many people who died in STEM are just still alive. also because i said so

ANYWAY nathan is besties with juli, esmeralda and yukiko who he all knows from his time working for MOBIUS (got forced into the organization at age 16 don't ask), they met at some point while working there and probably didn't like each other all that much at first because nathan isn't exactly a people person and he just kinda looked like a pathetic sopping wet beast most of the time during that time of his life so he wasn't exactly friend material. during the events of the evil within 2 he's there to help sebastian with saving lily and he becomes very close friends with him over the course of the in-game events :) this is also when he starts realizing that maybe he does kind of care about people he's been working with, up to that point he mostly treated people as tools and only cared for them for their practical use, but that's when he realizes there's a lot more to people than just That. so everybody say thank you sebastian for making nathan realize he has Friends

there is so much more to this but i will keep my mouth shut because i can't possibly start explaining what my continuation of canon is like LMFAO let's just hope the evil within 3 is dropped so i can rewrite nathan's entire storyline to actually fit with the games better <3 there's more info about him here if you're interested that's kind of like. everything i CAN say about him without sounding like charlie day yelling about pepe silvia LOL

oc asks!

#asks #mutuals #reaperkiller #ask:nathan #oc asks #really shot myself in the foot deciding to answer these for nathan LMFAO but it's ok <3 i'm cringe and i embrace it #last question is me just dodging bullets. like that one gif of that wizard dodging arrows #anyway THANK U AAA i love talking about this weird man. with his developer posture

[bvlgae]

He hated all the movies that sold lies wrapped in glitter and glory, beating into people’s heads that one has to do something as cliché as squeeze the trigger.

“Don’t do that-” he instructs, hands like a wrench around the thin pipeline that was Sephiroth’s wrist.

“You’re thinking of actors playing at mastering a firearm. Are they squeezing it, are they pulling it? The force is being applied so quickly, is there even a difference? It doesn’t matter. A trigger does not know or care how force is applied to it.”

He can almost feel phantom pricks of stiff stubble biting into the raggedy fabric of his shirt, the heavy weight of Drautos’ chin against his shoulder- Bellies to the ground in the dust and the dead grass.

“You have to pull, straight back. Don’t clench any other fingers of your hand- I know it’s hard. But if the sights are on target when the shot breaks, you will hit it.”

The cool metal and worn wood of the rifle’s stock sliding through his hands as his superior tells him how he’s not going to eat, drink, or shit without that rifle by his side. 

Get to know your weapon, like the body of a woman. Touch it, jack off to it, fall in love with it. Then I’ll teach you how to kill with it.

He doesn’t quite go that far, finding the comparison distasteful and ultimately useless in familiarizing oneself with arms. Take it apart, like a puzzle. Put it back together. Clean it, care for it. Make it an extension of yourself.

Back when he was around Sephiroth’s age, he’d never fired a gun before. To do it with only a single bullet sounded easy. Just line up the muzzle with what you wanted to shoot and center it within your sights.

It was easy. Even easier when his target was bound to a tree, bleeding and shivering and gagged with an old sock stuffed down his throat as he pissed himself.

Ravus had pulled the trigger and the man’s entire body jerked. Contorted against the ropes keeping his arms trussed behind him like a stuffed chicken. Pink froth spilled from his half-open lips, shaking and twitching and shitting himself like the first time he’d watched a chasseur fail to kill a deer in one shot, splayed miserable on the soft forest floor with large, terrified eyes as involuntary groans oozed their way out of it’s bleeding throat.

Had to walk up and just beat the POW with the stock of his rifle until he finally stopped.

Please, please, Gods above- Just DIE, why won’t you die?! and then there was a crunch like a bird’s egg being crushed underfoot and sinking into the wet mud. The way his eyes got watery and shallow like looking into a puddle gathered between rain soaked cobbles. Saw his pale blue eyes reflected in them, filled with pain, but relief too.

The same way he’d looked when Sylva died.

He’d loved his mother. Lunafreya too, but what did love even mean- back then?

It was so loud. So loud that it was a clap of thunder in a clear sky. Then the wait as the bullet spit out faster than the speed of sound down the barrel, always a few seconds just before the bottle shattered.

How can he tell this boy he learned math by scratching out calculations in a stained notebook, trying to parse out the longest shot- The perfect firing solution. How many feet, kilometers, hundreds of thousands of millimeters.

A good sniper will always wait for the perfect shot, even if it takes him days. Weeks. He lurks, starving in the jungle while all the others hungry for the glory simply take the shot, whatever they can get, knowing another meal- another victim- is always coming. 

How did he look when he waited? Did his eyes go half-lidded and intimate once his sights found their target in perfect alignment, did his breathing mirror the deep rise and fall of the enemy’s chest? How did he imagine himself walking beside the other soldier, keeping in pace with those long strides as he stalked through the underbrush. Sucking in a breath. Holding it. Then watching as his torso was reduced to a fine mist, coffee still clutched between a spasming fist as his top half fell away from his lower body.

How can he tell Sephiroth THIS is why he’d learned his math?

He doesn’t. Can’t. Will never.

In his dreams, they’re always on the run. Hiding, cramped behind cover as the searching opposition fans out into the jungle. Sephiroth is crying, even for a quiet sob, the sound echoes off every rock face, rattles around between Ravus’ ears. The boy won’t stop, then suddenly he can’t breathe as Ravus’ fingers squeeze around him, neck going rubbery beneath. 

In his dream, he can’t stop crying, so Ravus can’t stop squeezing until she he isn’t crying anymore. He’s not doing anything.

“-are you listening to me?” Sephiroth asks, looking concerned as Ravus suddenly snaps back to the present.

“I’m fine,” he answers, smiling but it doesn’t quite touch his eyes. Reaches down and ruffles his fingers through locks of blonde silvery hair so pale, it’s like starlight when the sun catches it.

#serafim #♘ WRITING #✦ I KNOW THAT SPADES ARE THE SWORDS OF A SOLDIER [MERCENARY] #implied sororicide tw #gore tw #violence tw #idk I just had this sitting around in my brain for awhile