#he moves her around the ice with such ease you get the sense that he’s ~letting~ her play lead.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Peaches and Cream

Pre-War!Cooper Howard x Curvy!Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Smut, NSFW, Oral (f! Receiving), reader's got some thick thighs and little bit of hair down there, overuse of pet names. (You can't tell me this man wouldn't call you a pet name at every available opportunity)

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Remember that line in MK 11 where Kano goes "Aren't you a peach? I could eat a peach for hours."? I just got some body wash that smells exactly like those peach ring candies and this happened upon me like a bolt of Zeus hit me whilst in the shower today

Divider by @/saradika-graphics

Being on the rebound after the messy divorce with Barb wasn't on Cooper's priority lists. Dating one of the animal trainers from one of his movies sets was certainly never an avenue he thought he'd pursue.

But when his horse got loose on set and she ignored him in favor of you? Oh, you got his attention all right... One thing led to another, and boy did the tabloids have a field day when pictures of the two of you kissing made it into circulation.

You were used to tabloids and reporters, working on movie sets. And now, dating America's favorite heart-throb cowboy? Oh, you bet your ass if you weren't used to it before you sure were, now.

You had fallen into a comfortable routine, often staying over at his place. To say Barb was prickly about how quickly he seemed to move on was... nice. She did however like how good you were with Janey, so that eased her annoyance with you some. So, she got used to seeing you around when Cooper would pick Janey up or when she dropped her off.

Today was one of those days, Cooper had run out to see his agent about something when Barb showed up to take Janey back again. You said stiff goodbyes and gave Janey a big hug, and once they were off, hopped in for a quick shower.

Your skin was still damp and your hair was still wrapped up in a towel when he got back, looking tired and annoyed.

Cooper kicked his shoes off by the front door, Roosevelt letting our short barks of excitement as his owner patted his head, before scampering back off to lay in his bed and gnaw his beef bone in content.

You just finished pouring a glass of sweet tea when Cooper's calloused hands circled your waist from behind, briefly giving your soft belly a squeeze before his fingers bunched in your dress as he kissed your neck. "Missed ya." He murmured.

"You were gone maybe, twenty minutes." You giggled, reaching up to brush his cheek with your hand as you slipped your drink, the ice cubes clinking loudly on the glass.

"Long enough. Didn't even get to kiss my baby goodbye when she got strapped into her Mama's car." He snorted, pressing his nose against your skin, breathing in the scent of the soaps you'd used.

"Damn, you smell good. Like a fuckin' peach."

"Oh?" You smirked as his hands began to roam, reaching down the front of your dress to grip the fat of your thighs in his palms, kneading softly. You bit your lip when he hummed an affirmation, his teeth grazing your skin on your shoulder.

"Mhhm... Good 'nuff to fuckin' eat." He drawled, his tone as thick and sweet as molasses; the timbre of his voice crawling through your pores.

"If you're hungry I can make dinner." You reply breathlessly, trying to interject your sense of humor.

"Nah, darlin'." Cooper growled, yaking you by the dress so you were flush tight against him; able to feel the growing outline of his cock as it filled out the crotch of his pants, "Not the kinda snack I want."

His breath hot on your ear, goosebumps on your skin; you barely had enough time to set your glass of tea down on the counter before he began tugging you to his bedroom; the towel on your head being unraveled and forgotten in the hall along the way.

The moment his door was kicked shut he turned you around and his mouth found yours like a homing missile--all teeth and tongue; dancing, twining, tugging and messy--knocking the air from your lungs as his hands blindly unbuttoned the top of your dress, groaning when the soft expanse of your bare breasts greeted his hands.

"No bra, darlin'?" Cooper rasped, pulling back from your mouth to grin.

"'s more comfortable." You barely mutter out before his lips are on you again, kissing you backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed, knocking you back while he stayed standing.

His eyes lit up with a mischievous twinkle as he gave you that signature smirk of his coupled with the quirk of his brow. "Oh, you won't catch me complainin' babydoll... Not at all."

You huff and reach down, undoing the clasp to his belt, hastily trying to slide it free of the loops of his pants, but his hand stops you and you pout up at him impatiently.

"Easy now, baby." He said in a low and heavy tone, his accent emphasizing "baby" and making a shiver creep down to your toes.

He lifted his other hand to tug the buttons on his shirt free, plucking each one until his button-up was open more, revealing the white undershirt beneath.

"Now..." He growled softly as he began to sink to his knees, "Told ya I wanted a snack, darlin'... Now I'm gonna get one. Just lay back and relax."

Your heart sputtered a beat as Cooper pulled your thighs apart and just tugged your panties to the side; not even bothering to remove them before giving your damp folds an open-mouthed kiss, running his tongue along the length of your slit and drawing a shaky moan from you.

His hand trailed softly over your skin, brushing over the short mess of curls before using his thumb to pull the hood of your clit back; giving the sensitive nub a nip before chuckling.

"You're awful jumpy t'day, baby." He said, kissing that sweet little pearl a couple of times, stroking it with his fingers as you huff out a whine.

"Your fault..." You groaned, daring to look down at him.

Your eyes locked and he gives you a short wink, lowering his mouth again, this time dragging his tongue up your folds slowly before moving back down again as his thumb rolls your clit in opposite tune of his mouth.

Your head dropped back onto the bed and your voice seized in your throat, one hand bunching in the sheets while the other goes to grip at his immaculately slicked-back hair, tugging the strands free as you feel his tongue curl inside of you.

Cooper was good with his mouth; both on-screen and in the bedroom, this was never a debate.

His tongue was so skilled it had your legs all but jelly one night when he parked it at the local lookout; he'd lifted the cupholder separating your seats and tugged your hips over to him, leaning across the divider to eat you out right there in the front seat of his car. You barely had enough time to grasp that it was really happening before he ripped those sweet, sweet sounds he loved so much from you.

God, were you thankful that nobody had caught you two that night; "Cooper Howard caught in compromising position at Lover's Lane" you could just imagine the press salivating at that headline if they'd caught you.

You were happy he kept his antics on set confined to his trailer... but you had a feeling somebody walking by could probably hear what went on in there.

"Oh, fuck--Cooper!" You mewled, arching your back when he slid his long fingers inside of you, his lips wrapping firmly around your clit like a vacuum, writing obscene love-notes with his tongue, drawing more and more of your beautiful voice from inside of you.

Your toes curled and your hand tugged at his hair, making him groan and his eyes roll; his voice vibrating against you in a way that had you practically sobbing.

"Jus'--fuh--fuck." You moaned breathlessly, your heart pounding in your chest, your toes curling so hard you could feel your calves beginning to cramp.

"B-baby I'm--" You hiccuped; "'m gonna... gonna..."

All your words did was spur him on further, encouraging him to flatten his tongue in one long, slow drag until he could flick your clit again, his face and hand already soaked with your mess; his eyes dark and hungry like a wolf about to eat his lamb.

"That's it baby, c'mon, give it t' me." Cooper muttered against you before stroking your clit once again with his fingers, plunging his tongue and fingers inside of you in an alternating rhythm that had your brain feeling like it was turning to liquid sludge inside your skull as your climax hit you as if it were a runaway freight train.

Both of your hands gripped his hair tight, your thighs squeezing around his head, the flesh molding around his head wonderfully as he drank down your release, his hands going around your thighs to reach up and squeeze your belly while you rutted against his mouth; your voice babbling the sexiest things he could ever hope to hear from you.

When your orgasm finally died down and your legs dropped to hang over the edge of the bed, Cooper pulled back and grinned up at you, his face slick and shiny with your juices, his hair an absolute mess.

Fuck, he looked so good like that.

"You good, darlin'?" He asked you, his hands spreading over the squishy pouch of your tummy, his fingers tracing the stretch marks that lightly etched your skin.

"I... Y... yeah. Just need a breather." You pant, your eyelids heavy as you blinked up drunkenly at the ceiling.

"Good. He hummed, leaning down to kiss your throbbing clit, grinning at how your breathing stuttered and your body twitched as he did.

"Cause I can eat a peach for hours, babydoll."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 14

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You wake up with your head on Walt’s arm. You lay on your side, facing him as his chest rises and falls, a rumble thundering through him with each breath. His warmth has you in a sheen of sweat. You hesitate to move, not wanting to disturb him.

As you lay and listen to his snores, your stomach topturns. The realisation flows through you and turns to ice. As unusual as this awakening is now, this will be your forever. That’s what you agreed to. Your days, your nights, your everything will belong to Walt.

You squirm as suddenly you’re on fire, your scalp speckling with impending doom. You shift onto your back and slowly sit up. You bend your head forward and cover your face as you try to ease the spinning in your head.

You drag your feet from beneath the blankets and turn to sit with your back to him. To your future husband. You just can’t make it sound normal in your head.

You stand cautiously, mindful not to jostle the bed. His low snores carry through the air as you walk across the creaky floorboard, peeking over with each step. Your legs prickle with goosebumps as you get to the door. A shiver rolls over you and you hug yourself as the morning air flows up the bottom of the flannel shirt.

You leave him and find your way downstairs. You turn on the space heater and linger before it, building the courage to detach yourself from the glow of heat. You continue into the kitchen and carefully make your way around it.

The least you can do is make breakfast. You suppose that will be expected from now on. It’s not so out of the ordinary, it’s only Walt will be more than just a guest, more than a friend.

You take out eggs and a tray of breakfast sausage. You pause as you wonder if it’s too much. You hope he doesn’t mind.

You do your best to be quiet as you put a skillet on the oven to heat. You line a pan with the sausages and preheat the gas stove. You flutter your fingers anxiously as you wait, staying close to absorb some of the heat.

“Morning,” Walt’s gritty timbre sends a tremor through you.

You glance over as he enters, a brown robe around him as he rubs his eyes and sweeps his curls away from his face. You return his greeting as you crack the eggs into a bowl to whisk. He hums and nears the counter, grabbing a tin near the back.

“Coffee?” He wonders.

“Oh, no I–” you set the bowl down, “I didn’t– I can do that now.”

“Mm, thanks, sweetheart,” he puts the tin down and sidles closer to you, “sleep okay?”

His hand touches the small of your back as stands close. You nod, “mhmm,” you step up to the counter and grab the beat-up percolator. “Thanks, I… I did.”

“Rain’s let up,” he reluctantly parts and peers through the window as you fill the percolator from the tap, “should go out and check on the truck after breakfast… then we can head up to the bank.”

“The bank?” You shut off the faucet and loud the grinds, then pop the metal lid into place. You put the metal jug onto the burner and twist the knob.

“Get some thing’s sorted. I told your mother I’d bring some paperwork,” he explains as he sits in one of the wooden chairs. He watches you intently as you face him. He’s quiet as his eyes rove you from head to toe. A breath fills his chest, “and we can tell her the news.”

You try to smile and quickly turn your attention back to the eggs. You put oil on the skillet as you clear your throat, “yeah, she’ll… I think she’ll be happy.”

“Could do a lot worse around here,” he grits.

“I didn’t mean…” you shake your head as the oil sizzles, “I only… I’m getting used to the idea still.”

“Seem to be getting used to it,” he remarks, “lucky me got a woman like you to wake up to, make me breakfast…”

“Uh, yeah,” you pour the eggs into the pan.

He lets a long exhale and the chair groans beneath his weight, “it’s like a dream come true. Finally,” he drawls as the savoury smell of sausages blooms from the over, “about time I settled down. Least that’s what the old crones whisper down at the grocery store.”

“Oh, ha, well, everyone talks,” you shrug, “I’m sure they whisper about me too.”

“Uh huh, I heard them,” he scoffs as his tone harshens, “about you talking to Odinson… making eyes at him.”

“What–” you nearly choke, “I…I didn’t— I wouldn’t.”

You scrape the pan to scramble the eggs as your voice knots in your throat. It feels like an accusation but you know it was harmless. Thor was just being helpful and that was weeks ago.

“Well, you won’t,” he says tersely, “from now on, I don’t want you being friendly with the likes of him. He’s no good.”

“Walt, I wasn’t–”

“That’s before,” he interjects, “this is now. We’re gonna be married. Things are different.”

“I know,” you eke out, “but I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t do that.”

“Uh huh, but you flirted with me,” he insists.

“I…” you stop yourself before you begin. You didn’t flirt with him, you were nice to him. Like you always were. Like you had been for years.

“Sweet thing like you, it’s easy to get the wrong idea and men like Odinson, they always get the wrong idea,” he growls.

The percolator trembles and you turn off the burner. You quickly twist the other down to low and put a lid over the eggs to keep them warm. You turn to the cupboard and pick out a mug with an ombre of brown. You pour the steaming coffee and bring it to him.

“You don’t have to mope, I’m just making you aware,” he says, “you’re too sweet to see it. I’m protecting you. That’s what a husband does, right?”

You make yourself smile and swallow, “of course, thank you.”

“No, thank you,” he takes the mug from you with a wink, “look at you, my sweet little wife.”

[takes1]

p.2 bratty tsukishima x manager!reader enemies to lovers

warnings. nsfw. m!masturbation at the end. midterms mentioned. minors DNI content. misinterpretation of emotions. tsukki not knowing how to handle a crush. enemies to lovers. or maybe enemies with benefits, i haven't decided yet. manager!reader. tsukki being so incredibly horny. tsukki not understanding facial expressions. sexual frustration. male masturbation + implied previous. kiyoko being a friend. yachi being a friend. 1.7k words notes. 3 more parts planned! ask to be added to the taglist if you don't want to miss one! links. PART ONE HERE. PART THREE . PART FOUR. FINAL PART. masterlist for mha. my ao3. masterlist for haikyuu

Despite your iced latte being mostly just water by now, you still sucked it down in desperation to get every ounce of caffeine you could. Midterms were just around the corner and one of your most difficult classes involved writing a 10-page scientific paper.

You had the whole semester to do it, so the dread you felt now was the amalgamation of months' worth of opportunity that you could've and should've used to work on it.

Thankfully, you didn't have to churn the majority of this thing out alone.

"What the hell does ameliorate mean." Kiyoko asked, though her soft frustration was starting to sound more like a statement now.

Yachi took every opportunity she could to stop doing her work, including this one. For her, there was less pressure to do perfectly on her finals since she had another two years to get those top marks.

She scanned her laptop screen for a moment, lips perched on the lid of her strawberry refresher: "Ameliorate means... To... make something bad or unsatisfactory better."

Kiyoko muttered something about how it still didn't make sense. Of course it wouldn't- she was taking an organic chemistry course.

The plan as it stood now was to rot in this spot all day until hunger moved you, so you all made an event out of it by putting on something cute, grabbing some coffees and pastries from a cafe nearby, and settling into this local library.

It wasn't planned, but you all simultaneously chose to wear skirts and cute summer tops. The mutual reaction of humor helped ease the pain of having to study all day. Suffering together was preferable to suffering alone.

The chance finally came again to stretch your legs and find another vaguely relevant reference to add to your bibliography.

With a rewarding, careful stretch, you rose out of your chair and took your time walking up and down the aisles to find something to support the fifth theory you'd written about so far.

Midterms were one stressor, but you weren't afforded the privilege of having tunnel vision over it.

Qualifiers were just around the corner, and you had the Tokyo training camp to prepare a load of equipment and personnel logs for.

As you selected a thick novel from a shelf above your head, you let out a small sigh.

The front matter described a concept you could start to look into and fluff up to your liking for the paper. Your mind fell back to the team, and how you wanted to do well on these exams so you'd have less to worry about going to Tokyo.

The side of your face was growing warm, probably from the East-facing window to your left, so you raised the back of a cold hand to cool yourself down.

You were just deciding to take this book back when, in the process of dropping your hand, you caught a blur of blond hair and glasses in the corner of your eye.

Your stomach jolted, heart starting to race, and an uncontrollable surprise took over your features.

Tsukishima was sitting, leaned over a table on his elbows, his head twisted all the way to the side to look at you over his shoulder.

You quickly looked back to the shelf and sucked in a breath. God, that must've looked so lame- you regretted every millisecond of that reaction and prayed he wouldn't ever bring it up.

He hated you. You didn't want anything to do with him. There was no pleasant exchange to get out of saying hello, or even acknowledging each other. It's not like you were friends.

Why was he even here? You started to get worried, but realized that he did ride the same train back with you after practice in the evenings.

Now you were really remembering. He got off one stop before yours and always moved to create the most space possible between you. You usually didn't see him again until he got off. Even then, you didn't care enough to look for him anymore.

You glanced back to him, expecting to now have to speak to him after you'd exchanged a mutual acknowledgment of each other's presence.

He was staring. But... that wasn't exactly the right word for it.

He was distracted. You wondered if he knew who you were, because you'd never seen him stare at you for more than a few seconds.

His brow wasn't pinched like usual. It was relaxed- in fact, everything about him was relaxed. The way his head was held in his hand, the loose grasp on his pencil, the subtle part of his lips. The lazy, yet measured scan of his eyes.

There was a reddish tint at the tips of his ears and highest points of his cheeks. It was astoundingly easy to notice, since he was so fair-skinned.

A strong chill ran up your spine when he finally made eye contact with you. Even then, it took a glance down to the book clasped against your chest, then back up for him to really notice your gaze and stiffen right up.

That new side of him vanished in an instant. It was replaced with a brief, stone-cold glower before he turned back to his own midterm work.

On the stiff walk back to your table, you smoothed your skirt out and pulled on the edge a bit before sitting back down.

It took a minute of silent sitting to even begin to unpack what you felt.

"Do I look stupid?"

Yachi instantly piped up, "Of course not! You're very pretty!"

"You really shouldn't waste your breath asking," Kiyoko glanced up at you.

It was brief but it rested your immediate insecurities.

"Why?" Yachi, once again, wanted nothing more than to just hang out and talk.

Another surge of chills. It was sickening.

You put your head in your hands, elbows on the table. "Mm-mm, it's just-..." You thought to tell them, but held back at the last second, "I dunno."

Another big sigh and you were back to typing to take your mind off of it. You'd have plenty of time to see what this spun into once you were free from this academic prison. It was too confusing right now.

Kiyoko didn't read into it, but Yachi lingered until 1) it was obvious you simply didn't want to disclose and 2) an abnormally tall boy from school walked past your table. She watched him watch you on his way towards the exit.

Her eyes narrowed with keen intuition.

the keen intuition in question:

Kei felt himself practically melt against the closed door of his bedroom. Breathless from a difficult and quick walk home, he fumbled with the tie of his sweatpants and the lock on the door concurrently.

"Finally," He sighed with a desperate laugh, "Fuck..."

His bag hit the floor with a sharp and careless thump. He stepped over it and fell onto his back on his mattress, a long arm stretched toward his side table for some lotion.

It was useless trying to study after that. Library or home, it didn't matter unless he could fuck this one out.

This time he didn't have to stalk your Instagram to spark his imagination; it was already running rampant with filthy ideas of what he'd do to you in that short skirt.

An ignored, aching erection sprang out of his waistband as he pushed it down and out of the way.

Light grey sweatpants had (for the first time in his life) ended up being a shit idea. All he could worry about on the 20 minute walk back was if anyone could see the tip of his cock tucked up just under his shirt.

Every shirt was too short. Every pair of pants was too big in the middle.

His slippery hand was beautiful relief. He was quick to get himself lubricated, and quicker to pump in slow, twisting motions to the image of you reaching, reaching, reaching up to that book on your tippy toes.

All the worry in his tight brow washed away in crashing waves of steady-growing pleasure.

Soon he didn't care about the harrowing journey home, the threat of midterms, nor the growing dread of that training camp.

It was just you.

It felt like fate that he got the only chance anyone might ever have to see the curve of your ass just under the hem of your skirt. You were able to get that book all too quickly.

If everything were different, he would've gotten it for you. You would've thanked him, kissed him on the cheek- he would've pulled you in for a heated, raunchy kiss with a hand palming you closer. He would've savored the view of you spread on the table for him -homework long forgotten- and his massive hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. It was a library, after all.

He seethed and stalled for a moment--, "a-ahh- Mm..."

His cock twitched hard with the need to cum, but he stopped just soon enough.

An oversized hand was holding the base; he looked at his other dry one, then closed his eyes in an eager but fruitless attempt to visualize just how they'd look on your thighs. Fuck, anywhere at this point.

Just one touch, that's all he wanted. He never let himself get close enough to even consider it, but my god, the internal struggle he made to stay away was commendable.

His tight, lightly sweaty stomach flexed with effort as he slowed down again.

You were so quick to switch up when it came to him. He could tell he had a special place in your heart, the way your lips pursed into a small frown and your eyes narrowed when he tested you.

It was out-of-this-world cute from his vantage point. A smile might just kill him.

"Mmm, fu-ck," He croaked, mind circling back to today.

His chest swelled with a shaky inhale- he smirked at the thought of you finding out about his terrible secret, how you would punish him for his unprofessional behavior. You were so pretty when you got mad.

The breath caught in his throat. He wasn't even thinking about the skirt when he finally came all over his stomach. Just that pretty face of yours did it for him.

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thanks for the support!!

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[hd-junglebook]

Falling For It

Part 1

word count - 2,081

Humming under her breath, y/n waltzed to her last round of the night with a smile. The pediatric ward was finally quiet as the young patients slept. After the nonstop buzz of activity from the emergency rooms and worried families, y/n was ready for a breather.

As she passed the nurses station, her friend Destiney looked up from updating charts on the computer.

"Last hour, huh? Well, aren't you just flying through it?" she said with a smirk. She was well aware of y/n’s eagerness to go home.

“Smooth sailing from here,” y/n agreed, giving Destiney a grin. One more hour and her long awaited couch potato plans could begin.

She was planning a weekend of clubbing with her girlfriends at the bar downtown tomorrow night. Music, getting pretty and fruity cocktails awaited her outside of these cold walls.

y/n checked the time - only 30 minutes left in her shift. Just one more patient to check on before she could call it a night. Grabbing fresh gloves and vitals equipment, she made her way to the last room on her rotation.

Knocking gently before entering, she stepped inside. “Good evening Mr. Hughes, I’m y/n, the CNA on duty,” she introduced herself warmly to the young man sitting up in bed. “I just need to get your vitals and a blood sample if that’s alright.”

The brown-haired patient flashed her a charming smile. "Well Y/N. Lucky you," he said, a self-assured chuckle punctuating his words.

"Meeting someone like me doesn't happen every day," he quipped, his soft blue eyes meeting hers as he extended his arm, waiting for her to wrap the blood pressure cuff around it.

Y/N arched an eyebrow at Jack's confident demeanor, but she couldn't deny the charm that seemed to ooze from every pore of the young man. She nodded, playing along with his game.

"I'll try not to swoon, Mr. Hughes," she replied wryly, deftly velcroing the blood pressure cuff around his sculpted bicep. She couldn't help but notice how fit and strong he looked.

As the cuff inflated and she watched the gauge, y/n added casually, "So how's your pain by the way? Any headaches, dizziness, nausea? Or just a hard head keeping you comfortable?" Her no nonsense tone made it clear she wasn't here to get swept away by his antics.

"Oh there's no pain with you around to ease it," Jack replied smoothly, his voice like velvet. He ran a hand through his artfully mussed black hair. "But maybe a four outta ten. This hard head of mine has taken worse bumps on the ice and kept going."

Y/n maintained her professional composure, ignoring the way Jack's dark brown eyes seemed to gaze right through her. Clearing her throat, Y/n jotted a quick note, acutely aware of his eyes following her every move. The sharp antiseptic scent of the hospital couldn't mask his woodsy cologne.

"Well those other concussions must have rattled some sense into you then," she said. Clearly this patient was accustomed to wrapping girls around his finger with that smooth confidence of his.

Y/n made more small talk with Jack as she worked, carefully noting down his oxygen levels, temperature, pulse rate and blood pressure in his chart. Then she swiftly drew several vials of blood, applying a cottonball over the needle mark on his vein afterwards.

“All done, you did great, Mr. Hughes,” Y/N said with a smile, labeling the blood samples neatly to send to the lab. “Buzz if you need anything else tonight.” As she turned to leave, Jack called out to her.

"Hey, Y/N," he said, a playful glint in his eye. "You know, I wouldn't mind some company tonight. How about you and I grab a drink sometime?"

"While I'm flattered by the offer, I'll have to politely decline drinks, Mr. Hughes," she responded with a quirk of her lips. "Wouldn't want to jeopardize my sterling employee record over a date with a charmer like yourself. Now focus on healing that hard head of yours."

"Will do, gorgeous," Jack replied, "But when I get discharged from this joint, drinks are still on me if you change your mind."

"Goodnight, Mr. Hughes," Y/N said with an exaggerated eye roll, unable to keep a smile from her face as she exited. That man's persistence was almost enough to make her regret having to let him down.

Almost. With a last fond head shake at his antics, she headed to finish her charts, the image of his grinning face lingering in her mind.

…

Y/n headed home from the hospital. Jersey roads were packed to the brim but finally she made it home. The smell of caramel and pumpkins filled her nose as she kicked off her shoes by the front door before turning on the lights.

Light meows flowed through the hallways bringing a bug smile to her face. The brown tabby cat padded up to the entrance purring and rubbing against y/n’s legs.

After her long shift, y/n was relieved to finally pull into the driveway of her home. The narrow Jersey streets had been jammed as usual for this time of evening, but she didn't mind too much.

The sight of her house with its cheerful fall decorations by the front steps was welcome after a day on her feet at the hospital.

Pushing open the door, y/n breathed deep, enjoying the warm blend of caramel and pumpkin. The aroma made her smile. Fall was her favorite time of year.

Y/n kicked off her shoes, meows filled the hallway as her brown tabby cat came padding over to wind figure eights around her ankles. "Hey sweet boy," y/n murmured, reaching down to scritch under his chin. Hugo rumbled happily, nudging his head against her hand.

After providing Hugo with a fresh scoop of food, y/n poured herself a mug of hot chocolate and sank onto the living room sofa with a content sigh. The house was quiet except for the cat crunching his kibble and the occasional passing car outside.

Y/n was halfway through an episode of Game of Thrones when her phone suddenly vibrated with an incoming text. Then another. And another. With a soft groan, she grabbed the phone to check the influx of messages.

As expected, it was the group chat with her girlfriends blowing up. They always got extra excited leading up to one of their girls night.

"Just booked our table, bitches!" Angie had texted. "Meet at my place no later than 10:30, and yes y/n I mean you" Heather added. Lexi followed up insistently, "y/n don't forget the black top I wanted to borrow!" She quickly typed out a reassurance she hadn't forgotten about tonight or the black top she knew she wasn’t getting back.

…

As Y/N and her friends approached the club, the frigid air gnawed at their exposed skin, sending shivers down their spines. The lines outside stretched around the building, a testament to the club's popularity on a chilly night like this.

With each step, Y/N felt the chill seeping into her bones, the biting wind tugging at her clothing as they navigated the crowded streets.

"Come on, guys, just a little farther," Ang called out, her voice buoyant despite the cold as she navigated through the throng of people with ease. "We're almost there!"

Finally reaching the promoter line, Y/N watched as Ang worked her magic, effortlessly securing their entry into the club. As the bouncer scanned their IDs, she couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement coursing through her veins, the cold all but forgotten.

They were ushered in one by one, the bouncer's practiced eye scanning each of them before granting entry.

Y/N hurried inside, grateful to escape the biting cold that nipped at her legs, her breath forming puffs of vapor in the chilly air. As she stepped into the warmth of the club, the pulsating beat of the music washed over her, drowning out the winter chill and setting the stage for a night of excitement and adventure.

She made a beeline for the bar while her friends headed to the table, eager to start the night off with a buzz. A group of guys already occupied the bar, their boisterous laughter filling the air as they bantered back and forth.

Squeezing in next to them, Y/N caught the bartender's attention and ordered a lemon drop martini, her go-to choice for starting the night off right. As she waited for her drink, she couldn't help but eavesdrop on the conversation happening beside her.

The guys were deep in discussion about hockey, Y/N watched with interest as the bartender expertly prepared her drink, her eyes flicking between the group and the skilled mixologist behind the bar. Y/N raised her glass in a silent toast to the night ahead.

With a satisfied smile, she took a sip, letting the sweet tang of the cocktail wash over her palate as she settled in to enjoy the lively atmosphere of the club.

"So, you like hockey?” The guy at the bar turned towards Y/N with a wide grin. She was caught off guard by his sudden question. "Oh, uh, well, I don't really have a favorite team," she admitted with a sheepish laugh. "I mean, I enjoy watching games sometimes, but I'm not really die-hard about it."

The guy nodded, his smile widening. "That's cool, that's cool," he said, leaning casually against the bar. "I'm a player. I play in Canada, but my friends are on the Jersey devils."

Just then, Lexi bounded up beside Y/N, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she twirled her hair flirtatiously. "Hey there," she said, flashing the guy a dazzling smile. "I couldn't help but overhear you talking about hockey. I'm Lexi, by the way."

The guy's eyes lit up as he turned his attention to Lexi, his grin widening. "Hey, Lexi," he replied, extending his hand. "I'm Quinn. Nice to meet you." They exchanged pleasantries, Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at Lexi's boldness, grateful for the distraction from her own thoughts.

Lexi's sudden interjection caught Y/N off guard, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise at her friend's audacity. "Um, yeah, we have a table," she added, her tone a bit too eager as she subtly placed her hand on the guy's bicep.

Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes at Lexi's not-so-subtle attempt at flirting. It was classic Lexi, always boy-crazy and never one to shy away from making her intentions known.

The guy, Quinn, seemed taken aback by Lexi's forwardness but recovered quickly, a charming smile spreading across his face. "That sounds great," he replied, his gaze flicking between Y/N and Lexi. "We'd love to join you."

Y/N sighed inwardly, resigned to the fact that her night was about to get a lot more interesting with Lexi's antics in full swing. As they made their way back to the table, she couldn't help but shake her head at her friend's boldness.

…

The night wore on and the drinks flowed freely, Y/N felt the effects of the alcohol hit her harder than she expected. With the group of boys that had joined them, drinks were poured endlessly, laughter filling the air as they exchanged stories and shared jokes.

Quinn suggested that they all come to a Devils game next week while he was in Jersey. The other boys nodded in agreement, meanwhile, the girls exchanged knowing giggles.

When the venue lights eventually flickered on to signal the end of the evening, Quinn turned to Lexi "Hey, we should exchange numbers, for the game and all.” He asked a bit shyly, Lexi grinned before nodding eagerly as she fished her phone out of her purse, exchanging numbers with Quinn

Quinn and the guys said their farewells to Y/N and her friends. Amid plenty of smiles all around, plans were set for the upcoming hockey game. The girls excitedly piled into their Uber, eager chat filling the car. "Oh my gosh, Quinn was so cute!" Lexi gushed. "Right?" the others chorused, laughter and smiles all around.

"That Jesper was a total sweetheart.," Ang added. Y/N grinned, shaking her head affectionately at her lovestruck friends. Their lively banter continued as they reminisced over the fun night.

Y/N certainly enjoyed meeting Quinn's upbeat group, but her thoughts did stray for a moment to Jack from the hospital. Sprinkled with cheerful squeals whenever their favorite hockey team's recent match came up, the girls' bubbly conversation flowed freely the whole ride back.

…

Send ya girl some feedback. I feel like this part was so bad, hopefully you like it tho 😃

[peachhcs]

Hiii!!

I was wondering if you could write something for samy and will based on this article: https://www.nhl.com/canadiens/news/my-man-mireille-boutin-on-michael-pezzetta?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=post&utm_campaign=CHCcontent&utm_content=EN-0514-MyMan

Basically the nhl team’s media people asking the players’ significant other questions about them. Thanks so much :))

my girl: will smith on samy hughes

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

nhl elite prospects interviews will about samy & their relationship!

1k words

this was suppperr cute to write. i swear will’s a yapper when it comes to talking about samy. i switched it from the article so it was will talking about samy, hope u don’t mind, but i loved this request!!

au masterlist

"we've been best friends since we were kids. everything just makes more sense when i'm around her."

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN — samy hughes is known for her tough offense on the soccer field.

but off the field, she's the "best person i've ever known," according to her boyfriend, will smith, a boston college forward.

while in san jose for a development camp, the nhl elite prospects were able to catch up with smith to ask him how he's been doing, including how his new relationship's been treating him.

TELL US ABOUT YOUR DYNAMIC GROWING UP.

it's funny because we never hung out by ourselves a lot when we were kids. i was pretty attached to her older brothers [quinn, jack, and luke] and she was attached to my sister [grace smith], so we never really hung out that much until we were older. although, we always got along. when we did hang out we enjoyed talking to one another and poking fun as if we were siblings. we really didn't get closer until i moved up to plymouth for the usntdp.

WHAT CHANGED YOUR RELATIONSHIP FROM FAMILIAL TO ROMANTIC?

at least for me, as i got older, my feelings started changing towards her. i started seeing her as an annoying sister less and less and the more we hung out when i was in michigan, the more attached i grew i guess. we started just..doing stupid stuff together and i just really liked hanging out with her. all the times where i thought the things we did together was just a sibling dynamic, i slowly realized it was a lot more than that.

WHAT DID YOU GUYS DO ON YOUR FIRST DATE?

i took her out to dinner in ann arbor and then we walked around for a bit before sitting on a bench and just talking for hours. it was definitely weird at first, but we eased into one another and it was fun getting to know her on a different level than what i've always known her as.

WHAT ATTRACTED YOU MOST TO HER?

her personality for sure. she's super outgoing, always knows what she wants, very independent, super caring. we're very similar in many aspects, hence why we're best friends. she looks up to her brothers a lot which i admire because i also look up to them. i also enjoy her extensive knowledge of hockey because of her family, so it's easy talking about the game with her. she's just always been someone i go to when i need a shoulder to lean on and it's just so easy with her, you know? i love getting to call her so we can talk about our days together.

OF COURSE, HOCKEY'S IN SAMY'S ROOTS. DO YOU GET HER ON THE ICE WITH YOU EVER?

oh yeah, 100%. whenever we're back at michigan or in boston, we're on the ice. she's the one dragging me outside sometimes so we can play 1v1 or something. she's always had that love for hockey even if she doesn't play competitively anymore. i also love seeing her out there because it's what bonded us when we were kids, so it's nice still getting to go out and do it with her. somehow she still beats me too. she doesn't play for 4 months and then we're back on the ice together she scores 3 goals before i can even get the puck in my possession. the guys chirp at me whenever that happens if they're around.

HOW OFTEN DO YOU WATCH HER SOCCER GAMES?

every single one of them are on my computer. it doesn't matter what i'm doing. as soon as the live stream starts, i'm booting it up to watch. the guys love watching her play, so i always get to turn it on the tv and then we scream at the stream for two hours together.

SPEAKING OF THE GUYS, WE HEARD SHE HAS A GREAT RELATIONSHIP WITH YOUR LINEMATES AS WELL.

leno and perreault absolutely adore her which i think is really sweet. i was a little worried when i first introduced all of them back when we moved to mich, but the three of them grew close really quickly. sometimes i think they're more excited to see her than i am and that's saying a lot.

WE HEARD HUGHES IS A GREAT COOK. HAS SHE COOKED ANYTHING FOR YOU?

when we're at the lake house she loves cooking all of us breakfast. she makes a great omelette and french toast, like, the best i've ever had. we all go crazy for her breakfast in the mornings.

DO YOU GUYS EVER TRAIN TOGETHER DURING THE SUMMER LIKE RUNNING OR WORKING OUT?

i'm not a huge runner, but sometimes i will run with her when she goes out, or i'd bike along side her. our training schedules are pretty different, but when we're in the offseason we'd occasionally hit the gym together or do some casual workouts that won't kill us. she knows what the hockey training is like so it's no stranger to her when she does follow my lead. soccer, on the other hand, is a lot more sprints and footwork which is sometimes helpful for me.

CAN YOU TELL US ABOUT SOME OF SAMY'S BEST QUALITIES?

shes a huge team player. she's always looking out for those girls on her soccer team, helping them run drills, being someone to talk to—i really admire her for that. she's got a real big heart too. her love is so contagious. she's dependable, trustworthy, kind, beautiful—the list could go on coming from me.

ANY LAST WORDS YOU WANT US TO ADD?

i love her, haha. our parents knew way before us that we would end up together before we even knew. we've been best friends since we were kids. everything just makes more sense when i'm around her. this is probably corny, but i wanna spend the rest of my life with her. she's my rock.

[theemissuniverse]

“PULL ON THE HEART STRINGS” CASSIE CAGE X FLIRTY COMEDIC RELIEF FEM!READER

SUMMARY : Cassie painfully has a crush on you and it’s obvious to everyone except you. But when your friends tell you, you tease the hell out of her. (Your ability is heightened senses)

WARNINGS : mentions of sh and sh scars

MASTERLIST 1 , MASTERLIST 2

In the original timeline, you died. Plain and simple. You died by the hands of Sindel when you preformed your greatest move. She died along with you.

Now the time rip had brought you three: you, Kung Lao, and Liu Kang into the present despite circumstances. You two spontaneously were alive now.

It took some getting used to. Being in a timeline completely different from your own but you had managed to find comfort in it.

Currently, you and your best friends were at the base as you were instructed by Raiden to help out the special forces as needed. You and Kung Lao were play fighting, messing around and Liu Kang shook his head as the two of you played.

Further from you three, Cassie was watching you in awe as you fought Kung Lao. You were easily winning too. Jacqui saw her best friend staring and shook her head. “You’ve been obsessed with her since she got here.”

Cassie scoffed at the claim. “I have not. It’s just…she’s literally the best female fighter. Hell, thee best fighter. I’m just amazed is all.”

“Amazed? That’s an odd replacement for love-struck.”

Cassie quickly shushed her friend. “Not love-struck! Just impressed.”

“Really? Okay.”

You and Kung Lao had stopped fighting at that point and were just laughing. Jacqui took that as her chance to push Cassie over to you.

Cassie lost her balance and almost fell when you quickly saw this with your fast reflexes. You immediately caught her, sort of bridal style.

Cassie’s hand was on your chest and you held her tightly. “Whoa. You know for a Commander you’re pretty clumsy.”

She couldn’t even say a word to you. She was just hopelessly lost in your eyes. You were the embodiment of beauty to her. She felt her heart skip beats. You didn’t catch on though and raised a brow at her. You heard her heart beating fast with your heightened hearing. “You okay, Commander?”

She hated the fact you didn’t call her by her name. Cassie snapped out of it and nodded. “Oh yeah. Cool. Cool as ice.”

You carefully picked her up and held her until she was at her feet. You let go of her. “Hey, you got anything to drink? I’m thirsty.”

Cassie took her soda off the table and waved it around in her hand. “I have this. But I drank out of it-“

You didn’t care and took the soda from her anyway. You quickly drunk it in front of her. Every drop until it was all gone. You then simply threw the can somewhere.

“You have to excuse (Y/N) as she has no home training.” Liu Kang said.

“Blah blah blah. My name is Liu Kang. Look at me with my fire balls and self righteousness. Blah blah blah.” You mocked his voice as you made a hand motion like it was your puppet for him.

Kung Lao snickered some while Cassie almost busted out in full laughter. Liu Kang crossed his arms almost offended. “I do not sound like that.”

“You kinda do…” Kung Lao trailed off.

Liu Kang huffed at the two of you and you smirked at him, sticking your tongue out which made him playfully roll his eyes at you.

Cassie was never this nervous about anything. Ever. She was always sure of herself so the feeling she had at the pit of her stomach made her uncomfortable.

She felt like you were out of her league. You were a powerful warrior and you were the best female fighter of Earthrealm. Even though she did defeat Shinnok, you probably would’ve done it with ease.

“So, Cassie. You defeated Shinnok? That’s a way better status than what Liu Kang did. He just beat up a sorcerer. Boo-Hoo.” You said while leaning on the desk.

Liu Kang gave you a look. “Apparently in the original timeline I would’ve killed Shao Kahn.”

“Yeah and after he killed me!” Kung Lao said. “Which by the way, you sucked at because according to everyone else - he came back after that.”

“Boys, boys, this isn’t a pissing contest.” Cassie told him but with a smug look. “But yeah. It’s true. I beat him. I’m a badass.”

“So I became a revenant?” You questioned. “Was I a hot one?”

“(Y/N).” Liu Kang scolded at you.

“What? I’m asking the real questions.”

Cassie was so caught up in all of your beauty that what she said didn’t mean to come out her mouth. “You’re always hot.”

The monks turned to her curiously, as they knew of her overwhelming crush on you. (Even though you didn’t know.) You watched as Cassie covered her mouth when she said that.

You didn’t take it as much. You just thought she was being a girls girl and complimenting you. “Sweet.” You saw Jax, the Jax from your timeline walking with a bag of chips. “Dibs.” You snatched the bag out of his hands. He gave you an irritated look and you flipped him off. He rolled his eyes at you before walking away.

“I’m just going to go over there.” Cassie pointed back to Jacqui and walked over to her.

You ate your chips like nothing was happening. Kung Lao gave Liu Kang a look. “Now can I tell her?”

Liu Kang shook his head. “No, Kung Lao.”

“I can’t keep doing this. I’m about to have a stroke.”

You looked at your friend weirdly as you ate your chips. “What are you about to have a stroke about?”

Kung Lao snatched the chips away from you. “You.”

“Hey!”

Kung Lao placed them on the table behind the three of you before looking back at you. “I refuse to believe you’re that naive (Y/N).”

“I love her Lao but…she is.” Liu Kang stated simply.

You stopped leaning on the table and turned to face them. “What are you dorks going on about?”

Kung Lao gave Liu Kang a final look and he finally nodded, motioning for him to say it. Kung Lao faces you again. “The Cage likes you.”

You scoffed as if it was obvious. “Of course she does. Where’s the surprise in that?” It was at that point Kung Lao flicked your head. You held your head in pain. “Ow!”

“I mean she has a crush on you, you airhead.”

“She does not…” You were about to say but then you started thinking. And then you put the puzzle pieces together. It made sense why you could hear her heart beating fast when she was around you. Why she would stutter and sometimes say things that came off as flirtatious but would immediately get embarrassed by.

You felt like an idiot for not seeing it sooner.

“Oh…”

You didn’t really know how to go about confronting Cassie about her crush on you. You didn’t really have a problem with her. You thought she was pretty, fun loving and adventurous. Honestly, Cassie was your type.

It didn’t really cross your mind to think of her romantically as you never really saw someone in a romantic light unless you knew they really liked you.

You were currently at the temple, meditating. You used to argue about doing such a thing but Liu Kang showed you the pros of meditating. When you tried it, it eased your stress away.

With your heightened senses, you smelled a familiar perfume. It smelled of cherries and delight. You didn’t need to open your eyes. You already knew who it was. “What brings you here, Commander?”

Cassie stopped in her tracks. She didn’t expect for you to guess who she was. “Wow. Those heightened senses really are a blessing huh?”

“And a curse. I smell Kung Lao all the time.”

Cassie placed her hands on her hips as she examined you. “I just came to check on you.”

“Oh you wanted to check on me?”

Cassie felt a familiar heat come to her face and changed the subject. “I didn’t take it you were the type to meditate.”

“It helps with the pain.” You opened your eyes and motioned to her to sit with you. “Join me.” You patted your hand on the other mat.

Cassie looked at you curiously. She didn’t understand how it actually worked but she would indulge with you.

She sat on the mat across from you. “So do I just close my eyes or-“

“Close your eyes and take a deep breath in and then take one out.”

Cassie looked unsure but did what you said. She closed her eyes and took one deep breath in and out. “Okay. Now what?”

“Think about what brings you peace.”

Cassie did what you said. She was trying to think. Actually, really hard but nothing was coming to her head. “What exactly is the purpose of this?”

“It enhances your emotional awareness, compassion and mental calmness.” You peeked your eyes open to look at her. “It is the reason why Mr. Chosen One is a very calm monk.” You said, referring to Liu Kang.

Cassie had peeked her eyes to look at you and snickered at what you said before both of you closed your eyes.

There was silence for a moment. Then Cassie had thought about what you had said earlier. “What pain do you have?”

“What?”

“You said that meditating helps with the pain. Like physical? Mental?”

You sighed a little, regretting that you had said that. But you did trust Cassie and you didn’t really make it a plan to hide your scars. A lot of people just didn’t notice.

“Look at my arms.”

Cassie followed your direction. She opened her eyes and looked at your arms and when she did, she saw them. It clicked in her head.

She carefully took your arm and rubbed on your scars lovingly. “How did I not notice?”

“I distract people by telling a lot of jokes. If you tell a lot of jokes then people won’t care enough to actually hear you. They just…they just think that’s what you are. A joke.”

Cassie peered up at what you said. She tilted her head at you even though you couldn’t see her do it. “Is that what you think people see you as? A joke?”

You bit your lip a little. You didn’t really want to reveal the most important part of history to Cassie but she made it so comfortable for you that you felt like you had to. “Liu Kang was not suppose to win the tournament the first time around. I was. Raiden did not believe in me that I could defeat Shang Tsung and Goro so he made me lose the challenge to Scorpion so I would be forced to be out of the tournament.”

Cassie was actually shocked. Then she wondered how the roles would be different if you were the chosen one and not Liu Kang. Would everything in her timeline be erased? “Wow. Do you hate Liu Kang for it?”

“Nah. He’s my best friend. I know it’s not his fault that he’s good.” You took in another deep breath before letting it out. “Everybody hears the jokes and after that they stop listening. But I guess that’s a good thing because when nobody expects you to be the best, when they go up against you then it’s an easy challenge.”

Cassie was similar to you. A fun loving free spirit but she definitely wasn’t exactly like you. She knew how tone it down and when to be serious. You didn’t.

You seemed to do it as a defense mechanism and Cassie couldn’t blame you there. I mean, she almost did the same thing.

“Sometimes I just want to disappear.” You said.

Cassie turned her attention back on your scars and rubbed all over them. You didn’t open your eyes still. You placed your hand over her hand that was on top of your scars. “Relax, cupcake. I’m disappearing yet.”

Yet. Cassie didn’t like those words. You could feel her having a frown on her face. You finally opened your eyes. It was only then you took in Cassie’s beauty.

She was absolutely gorgeous to you and you didn’t understand how you didn’t see it sooner. From her hair, to her cute cheekbones, to those pretty eyes.

You placed your right hand on her cheek and gently caressed her face. “You’re so pretty.”

Cassie wasn’t expecting you to say that. She didn’t even know what to say. Her heart started to beat faster and her forehead started to sweat.

You heard her heart beating faster and you chuckled a little. You leaned in close, your lips gently grazing Cassie’s. “You know I can hear your heart beating fast right?”

‘Ah shit.’ “Really?” Cassie let out a nervous laugh.

Instead of leaning in more to close the distance, you pulled away. You then stood up from the ground and held a hand out for Cassie to take. “Spar with me.”

Cassie felt her heart rate calm down a little. She took your hand and you helped her up. “Spar with you? I don’t know (Y/N). I don’t want to hurt you.” She joked at you.

You looked at her a little amused. “You? Hurt me?”

“Um, do I have to remind you that I’m the badass that defeated Shinnok? This is going to be easy.”

“Oh is it? Let’s make this interesting.” You grabbed your hand wraps out of your pocket and started to place them around the palm of your hands. “If I win, I want something from you.”

Cassie looked at you a little worried. “What would that something be?”

“That’s the surprise, sweetheart. What do you want if you win?”

Cassie was thinking a little. She didn’t exactly know what she wanted from you. (Well she did she just didn’t want to say it out loud.) Then she thought about it. “I want you to teach me See No Evil.”

See No Evil was a powerful move that you had come up with in kombat. Only very skilled fighters could mimic your fighting move. You raised a brow when she had said that. “I didn’t even know you knew about it.” You said as in the original timeline, you did not get the chance to preform the move as you were taken from it and placed in this one.

Though in Cassie’s timeline, you preformed it when you were battling Sindel. “You forgot about the crazy time jump. Remember?”

“Right. That.” You finished wrapping your hands. “Alright. Fine. Let’s do this.”

You watched as Cassie got into her fighting stance and you chuckled to yourself a little as it reminded you of Johnny and Sonya combined to be honest. You got in your fighting stance as well.

Cassie wasted no time. She immediately tried to kick you in the stomach but you block it. She then tried to hit you in the chest and you blocked it again. Cassie then tried to do a spin kick on you but you dodged it.

She huffed. This was going to be tougher than she thought. (She should’ve expected that from her idol.) She tried to charge at you and kick you again but you grabbed her leg.

Instead of throwing her off of you, you pulled Cassie closer to you. Real close so her leg was actually wrapped around your waist. You looked down at her, your right hand on her chin. “Is this the sum of the great Shinnok’s defeater might? I thought you’d be more of a challenge.”

That infuriated Cassie and you knew it would. Cassie kicked at your legs and then kicked you in the stomach.

You almost lost your balance but you stood on the ground. “Not gonna lie - the way you just did that was kinda hot.”

Cassie got a little flustered. Were you doing this on purpose? Flirting with her so you could throw her off?

She went to kick at you but you dodged it. She tried to punch you in the chest but you grabbed her hand. You made Cassie punch herself in her face.

Cassie fell to the ground and hissed a little at the pain. “Ugh. What the fuck.” You laughed slightly. Cassie stood up from the ground. “How are you so good at this? You’ve blocked every hit.”

You snickered. You were gonna win the match. You knew that but you’d help her out so she could get some confidence. “Remember, I have fast reflexes.” You walked over to her and got behind her. “You’re a special one. You use your legs more in kombat than your hands so I learn to typically block you there. Also, you’re just like your father. You get frustrated really easily.”

At this point you were directly behind her. You breath was directly on her neck which gave her goosebumps. Your hands wrapped around her waist. “You get a little nervous when you get close to me. Your heart starts beating faster. That’s how I know I have all the control in the fight.”

The way your hands were pressed on Cassie’s body made her go crazy. She just wanted to keep your hands on her forever.

But she couldn’t. She wanted to win to prove to you that she was ‘badass.’

Cassie elbowed you in the gut and then flipped you over on your back. She then got on top of you with her arm on your neck. “How’s that for control?”

You coughed a little at her arm being on your neck. Your hands went to her hips. “I didn’t know you were a top, Cassie.”

Cassie tried to push away the feeling she had at the pit of her stomach knowing you were only saying this to throw her off. “I’m not surprised that you’re a bottom.”

You laughed slightly. You switched the positions so you were on top of Cassie. “I kinda like this. Maybe we should stop fighting.”

Cassie wanted to so bad to give in but she knew (or more so thought) you didn’t mean any of what you said and were just saying that to throw her off her game.

She kicked you in the stomach, making you fall on your back. Cassie quickly stood up from the ground and you followed.

Instead of kicking so much, Cassie made it a point to change it up. She tried to punch you three times. The forth one she had landed a hit on you.

You felt your chest a little. You were a little impressed. It was very hard for an opponent to land a hit on you because of your fast reflexes. You got back in your fighting stance.

Cassie tried to kick you but you blocked it. She punched you in the gut and then kicked you at your feet.

Cassie tried to stomp on you but you moved quickly and swept her own feet, making Cassie fall.

You got up from the ground. Cassie groaned in pain before getting back up. “Did I tell you how hot you look in that uniform? Cause you do.”

Cassie now could ignore your remarks and went to hit you. You blocked the hit. She kicked you at your leg and you almost fell down.

She tried to punch you in the face but you grabbed her fist. Then you pressed her against the wall.

Your arm went on her neck and you started to lightly press down. “I would give up if I were you. The last time I did this to someone they didn’t enjoy it. You probably would though.”

Cassie felt the air get knocked out of her lungs as you sort of choked her. She tried to figure out a way to escape but she couldn’t. Cassie tapped on your arm as her way of tapping out.

You release your grip on her neck but you didn’t back away from her. You still had her pressed to the wall. “Who’s the greatest of all time?”

Cassie let out a laugh before slapping your shoulder. “I am not telling you that you’re the greatest of all time.”

“Don’t be a poor sport about it.” You looked at Cassie and noticed that she had a disappointed look on her face. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re still good. Liu Kang and Kung Lao can’t even land a hit on me when we train together.”

Cassie felt a little better that you thought she was good despite her losing. She noticed how close you two were and also noticed that you didn’t back away. “So…what did you want? You know your prize if you won.”

You brought Cassie’s chin up so she was looking directly in your eyes. “I want a lot but I won’t be greedy.” You did something that Cassie wasn’t expecting.

You kissed her.

Cassie had to snap herself out of shock and kiss you back. Her hands wrapped around your neck and she pulled you in closer to kiss you.

Your hands went on Cassie’s hips. For her being a Commander you were a bit surprised at how soft her lips were. They felt like Heaven to you.

The two of you continued to kiss each other but it soon turned sloppy. You took your chance to stick your tongue in her mouth and Cassie moaned.

“Oh my gods. My eyes. They’re burning! They’re burning!”

You heard a familiar voice. The two of you pulled away and you looked to see Kung Lao covering his eyes as Liu Kang shook his head at his dramatics.

You rolled your eyes some and backed away from Cassie a little while Cassie looked beyond embarrassed. “You’re so over dramatic.”

“It’s like I just watched my sister kiss her girlfriend.” Kung Lao said still with his hands over his eyes.

You prevented yourself from rolling your eyes again and sighed. “What do you want Dumb and Dumber?”

“Raiden would like to speak to all three of us.” Liu Kang said before removing Kung Lao’s hands from his eyes.

“Of course the prehistoric bird wants to.” You looked over to Cassie. “I’ll see you later, Cassie. Maybe we can spar again later.” You said before kissing her cheek and beginning to walk over to your two friends.

Kung Lao groaned in pain. “Ugh. Don’t flirt with her in front of me. It’s bad enough I see Liu Kang and Kitana.”

You wrapped both your arms around their shoulders and began to walk with them. “What is that suppose to mean?” Liu Kang questioned him.

“It means he wants to claw his eyes out when he sees you two painfully flirt with each other.” You said.

“We do not painfully flirt with each other.”

“Tell that to my eyes.” Kung Lao said.

“I cannot stand the two of you.” Liu Kang commented.

Cassie watched as you walked away from her. She smiled and felt the cheek that you kissed. “She called me Cassie.”

[pinkcherryblossom18]

hi love!! first and foremost, i am SO glad you, your friends, and family are safe after the tornado! i have some friends who experienced it as well and i can’t imagine.

if you are still taking requests currently, I would LOVE another continuation of your vultures drabbles with the reader x finnick. you write him SO well and the angst is just so good!!! no worries if not though! <3

The Vultures Swoop

Summary: The 75th Hunger Games announcement leaves you all in different stages of grief. 

Thank you for the request, sugar.

TW: Mention of the Hunger Games, Anger, Throwing things, Angst, Crying, Throwing up, Suicidal idelation and attempt , and Panic attack. 

Word Count: 739

Like all storms, this one starts slow. 

It starts with a voice that haunts you and a man that you constantly see in your nightmares. He discusses something else that haunts you daily and he says it with a bright smile. Then he says what the third Quarter Quell will be. 

All of you freeze. 

Annie breaks into sobs and Titus comforts her while Ollie just stares blankly into the screen, like he’s expecting something to change. Mags only sits there, she does nothing but sits there. 

Beside you Finnick freezes, the hand in yours stills and through his hand, you can feel his blood turn to ice. He doesn’t blink or cry, nothing happens. 

It takes only seconds for something to pop in you. 

It’s ugly, a stained yellow with rotted green all around it. Anger covers it in crimson red and you can only feel it within the very marrow of your bones. 

You had never been good with grief, even before the games. 

But this grief, this ugly infectious grief grows on you like vines on a tree. 

You stand up, you can’t sit. Not right now, not with everything that you had hid being brought to the top with such ease. You pace and pace and Finnick still sits there and Titus is still with Annie and Ollie is still staring and Mags only sits there. 

The vase on the table shakes every time you pass by it, your angry footsteps disturbing the only semblance of peace in this house. 

This house, you have hated this house since you first moved in. Since your family had left you behind and trampled this house with their fake apologetic words and nonsense sorrys. It made no sense to you then and it still doesn’t now. 

The vase keeps rocking on the table and you hate it. You hate it with every fiber of your being and when you grab it, it has the same weight of those knives that you had carried in the arena. 

The glass shatters against the wall and a scream erupts but can barely hear it over the sound of your own heart beat. The pounding of the organ in your chest and the anger that boils your blood and brings tears to your eyes. 

It’s too much. 

It’s all too much. 

Your stomach churns and you rush outside, barely making it as you empty all of the contents of your stomach. Strong hands grip your waist and you scream. 

All for nothing. 

It was all for nothing. 

Those hands don’t let go and you bring back your elbow and drop to the ground, ragdolling your body. 

Chirping, chirping, chirping. 

Looming, looming, looming. 

Too much, too much. 

Nothing. It was all for nothing. 

Death, blood and the weight of the knives come back to you. 

It all comes back. 

You—you can’t do it. You can’t go back. 

And Finnick—oh Finnick! You didn’t think about him. Titus was too old and Ollie couldn’t handle it. So he would have to go. 

Annie couldn’t go either, she would be the first to go, you were sure. Mags couldn’t go either, she would be dead quickly as well. 

You it had to be you. 

Finnick and you. You and Finnick. 

Death—that had to be the answer. It had to be, it had to be.

Your hands start to race for your wrists, competing in who could get to your veins first. 

At the first draw of blood, hands grab your own and you scream again. Wrenching and pulling against the hands that have your own captive, you don’t hear anything but your own screaming, pleading and crying. 

A hand grabs the back of your head and you’re pulled into someone’s chest. It’s sturdy and strong, underneath the fabric you can feel the echoes of healed scars. A voice whispers to you, saying things that you don’t understand but calm you all the same. 

In between broken sobs and streaming, hot tears that leave your head in shambles you hear Finnicks voice. “We'll be fine,” he says. “Nothing will happen to you. I promise.”

His voice is firm and determined but you don’t believe his words.

“I wish we were dead!” You cry. 

Finnick only holds you closer. “We’re not,” he reassures, scratching his nails against the back of your head soothingly. “We’re not dead. And we won’t be.”

But we will, you think. We all will.

[hwangism143]

limbo (part 4)

synopsis: a reunion and an awkward first interaction. but what if the past repeats itself?

pairing: non-idol!minho x non-idol!fem reader

genre: angst, exes to lovers, heart break

warning: swearing, air-frying as a joke (minho. duh.), flipping off, abandonment

word count: 1.4k words

a/n: I physically cannot write long chapters. send. help.

part 3 | masterlist | part 5

One friendship you were desperate to hold on too was that of your friendship with Sora. The bond you shared with your roommate was forged through the unbreakable mix of late night ice cream and broken nail polish bottles.

When you told her about your plans to move, she cried out, "Unnie! How's going to give you much needed advice on you fashion and love lives now?"

And, for a while, you maintained steady contact with her. Sora was like the younger sister you did have but was closer in age to you. You both would regularly gossip, her about university and you about your new job.

That was, however, until she fell off the face of the earth three years ago.

She had completely, out of the blue cut off contact with you two years into you leaving. After confirming with others mutual friends, people who knew her and her family, you found out that she had deleted all traces of her existence. Her parents later got a message from her stating that she was fine and just wanted to be left alone.

You couldn't help but wonder: was it you? Had you done something? Could you have prevented it?

These same questions along with a longing for Sora made way to your mind as you got ready for the get together later at Chan and Eun-bi's place. If Sora was still here, you would have called her, patiently taking all the well meant hits she aimed at your outfit.

If Sora was here, she would ease your anxiety about meeting Minho again.

Instead, you just sighed in contempt and walked out the door, deciding to be somewhat satisfied with whatever you wore.

━━━━━━━✦✗✦━━━━━━━━

You entered the penthouse with an animated gasp.

It was a penthouse. Of course it would be grand. Still, the absolute magnitude of how brilliant it was blew you away. It made sense of course, Chan along with Changbin and Jisung, completed the production trio 3Racha. Their music was literally everywhere.

Eun-bi, on the other hand, had made a name for herself as a soloist in the Korean music industry. Together, the two of them had built up Bahng Entertainment from the ground up and were now, very obviously, reaping it's benefits.

"I'm so cool," you whispered to yourself, "I managed to make famous friends."

Giving yourself a complimentary pat on the back, you rang to doorbell. The door opened and you fell right into Eun-bi's already open arms.

"I have missed you so much," she squealed, squeezing the air out of your lungs.

When she finally let you go, you went around the room making rounds. Unease bubbled in your stomach as one name clouded your thoughts. Minho, Minho, Minho. It was a fervent prayer, once always at the tip of your tongue.

Felix and Hyunjin, despite just seeing you a few days before, loudly proclaimed there problems with your absence. Changbin gave you a small pat on the back with a defeated mutter of 'still tall'. Jeongin practically flew at you, his hug competing with Eun-bi's for 'most oxygen depriving'.

Seungmin sent you a devious smirk while Jisung screamed as loud as he could "Jeogiyo noona, hokshi namchajingu isseoyo?" The entire group, bar a certain Lee Minho, broke out into laughter.

At last, Chan came up to you, palms open and facing up. "Hand it over," he said playfully. You let out a dramatized sigh and handed him thirty bucks, making a mental note to never bet on cricket again.

Then, you finally saw him.

He looked good. Uncomfortable at you being there, yes, but good nonetheless. He wore a white t-shirt with three cartoon cats and the words 'SoDoNg' on top. His black jeans were snug and a gray hoodie hung off his shoulder. He regarded you with alert eyes and a small smile.

"Hello," Minho finally said after a long pause, "You look good."

"Thank you," you responded awkwardly, "So do you."

━━━━━━━✦✗✦━━━━━━━━

six and a half years ago.

Minho walked in front of Jeongin, chastising him at his lack of energy.

"Come on, stop being lazy! I want to get there before Hyunjin and Felix leave to go anywhere else," Minho told him off.

"Ugh," Jeongin groaned, "We all know you just want to see Y/N. Why'd you have to drag me along as well?"

Minho glared at him to avoid the fact that he was right. Minho did want to see you. He had never offered to pick up Hyunjin and Felix up from their Physics class, considering how it was on the other side of campus and often clashed with his schedule.

When offered to accompany Jeongin today though, his eyes instantly lit up with suspicion. He began teasing Minho on the walk to the Science department until Minho threatened to air fry him. When that failed, Jeongin resorted to whining about the walk.

"So! Tired!" he huffed.

Minho ignored him and continued walking, oddly excited at the prospect of seeing you. You had an effect on him that nobody else seemed to have. Sure, he had a few flings here and there and a few girls head over heels for him, but for once, he thought that he could possible be head over heels for someone himself.

Someone like you.

You were funny, pretty and your nose scrunched up whenever you were judging someone. You were expressive, understanding and sent a smile to everyone that even so much as looked at you.

It astounded him how much he liked about you after only one meeting.

Jeongin chatted off Minho's ear about some breakup or the other, but Minho wasn't listening. He leaned against the wall in attempt to come off as casual and nonchalant, but assumed that he was sweating profusely.

When you, Hyunjin and Felix finally came out of the building, Minho let out a sigh of relief. He didn't know how much longer he could keep up the act. Hyunjin raised an eyebrow upon seeing him while Felix's mouth was slightly hung open in shock.

Hyunjin gave Minho an exaggerated wave right in front of his face and went off to terrorize and already shrieking Jeongin. ("I spent five hours fixing my hair, you will not mess it up again," he yelped in agitation). Felix, seemingly catching wind of what was happening, shot Minho a wink. Minho promptly responded by subtly flipping him off so that the motion would escape your notice.

"Hi," Minho greeted you kindly.

You blinked in rapid succession, slightly shocked at the fact that the man you were daydreaming about when you were supposed to be noting down orbital diagrams, was standing right in front of you.

"Oh, hey Minho! I have never seen you here," you told him with a surprising amount of enthusiasm for someone who had just sat through an hour long lecture on the 'principles of celestial bodies and irregular orbits'.

"Oh, uh," he chuckled nervously, a hand making way to his neck, "I usually have my culinary class right after, but the professor delayed it and I figured I would pick Felix up."

"Oh yeah, yeah," you snapped your fingers in remembrance, "You're studying cooking, right."

"You should cook for me sometime," you added in what you hoped was a smooth tone that would soften the nervous shakes in your voice and aggressive thumping in your chest.

You didn't know the effect that sentence had on Minho. Minho didn't know the effect his presence had on you.

"Well, we should grab a bite to eat sometime," Minho chuckled nervously, "I know this really nice cat café and you mentioned that you always wanted to go."

For someone really smart, you sure were extremely dumb. "'Kay, I'll ask the boys," you blurted out, with even giving what he said a second thought.

Your nose scrunched in mortification. "Well, I was hoping more just me and you..." Minho's voice trailed off.

You regained your footing in the conversation and replied in what you supposed was a flirtatious tone. "Lee Minho. Are you asking me out on a date right now?" you prodded his arm with your finger.

"I don't even have you phone number," he exclaimed defensively, throwing his hands up, "That would be unethical."

You promptly recited a set of number in response as Minho looked at you in surprise.

"So, um, I assume that was your phone number?"

"Yep! But I wonder what happened to mysteriously and charismatic Lee Minho I talked to that night. Since when did he become such an anxious mess?" you teased him playfully.

"Maybe you'll see that side of me on our date," Minho winked at you with a smirk. You bit back a playful retort, wanting to see and embrace every side of him that you possibly could.

"So it's a date then?" you asked, a blush pattering over your nose and cheeks.

"It's a date."

please reblog and comment if you liked this post!

main taglist (reply to be added) -

@linoalwaysknows @moon0fthenight @hyulino @palindrome969

@squishybinnieee @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @stayinlimbo

[solkatt-arts]

Introducing some of my nextgen ponies! I made them back in 2018 and these were drawn back in 2022. Newer art is in progress ^^

Turning Gear: Inventor with some impressive magical abilities. He is intelligent but the most awkward guy you'll ever meet. He is curious and together with Time Twister he often get into trouble. Starlight has tried and failed to tame his bird's nest of a mane but to no avail.

Classic Remix: A radio host on the shyer side. She feels safe sitting behind a mic but is more withdrawn in public. She likes to dye her mane to add a splash of color to her otherwise gray appearance. Remix has a great singing voice but is too shy to sing for a crowd. She got her cm for specializing on remixing classical music, something she came to love due to her moms' frequent collabs. She shares her music on her radio show.

Lightshow: Expert at creating light shows with her magic. She works as a light “technician” of sorts on live performances. Lately she has been helping Honeycrisp Melody out on her tour. Lightshow is enthusiastic, determined and competitive. One of her favorite things to do is play hoofball with her best friend Fastlegs.

Fastlegs: Sports coach for foals of all ages. Advocates for inclusion and love to teach. He lost his left wing to cancer and had a hard time coming to terms with his new life being flightless. He is the kindest most genuine stallion around. To feel more at ease Fastlegs moved to Ponyville to be closer to his best friend Lightshow and get away from all the expectations he felt back in Cloudsdale.

Honeycrisp Melody: Country singer with a heart of gold. She is a true Apple and loves to help around the farm whenever she can. She is optimistic, excitable and social. She loves to brawl with her cousin Candid Apple and guest star on Classic Remix's radio show. Melody is rather short and unlike most Apples, not as sturdy in her build. She inherited her pegasi traits from Rara's side of the family.

Blazing Hooves: Dedicated firefighter. He is highly empathic and takes his job very seriously. Blaze can be somewhat of a party pooper due to his dedication but his baby sister can usually make him ease up a bit. He wanted to become a firefighter as a colt after his family home burned down and his sister lost one of her legs in the fire.

Time Twister: Time traveler…?👀 She is sassy and confident, as well as dramatic and a smartass. She loves to create just enough of a chaos to stay entertained in her day to day life. One of her favorite pastimes is giving magical items to Gear to tinker with. The occasional explosion is the highlight of her day.

Princess Theory: An elegant and dutiful draconequus with a knack for getting into wacky situations. She loves to pull pranks and be generally annoying. Theory has a pretty dark sense of humor but just like her father she is very charming in her ways. Her parents have passed some impressive magical abilities down to her but her favorite trick is to teleport. She has ADHD.

Candid Apple: Works on Apple Acres. He is talkative, kind, family orientated and has a severe sweet tooth. Candid loves to bake apple treats when he isn’t working the land. His favorite cousin is Melody whom he grew up with on the farm.

Zerina: Librarian for the royal family. She is kind of messy and forgetful outside of work but she's incredibly sweet. She’s humble and generous. Zerina is autistic and her special interest is Equestrian history. Due to her expertise she got the job as the head librarian in the royal library where she can study all the archived materials as she pleases. She is a close friend of princess Theory whom happens to be neurodivergent herself.

Rockslide Pie: Rodeo performer. He is clumsy, silly and tends to fumble on his words. He is bold in his performances.. There is nothing he likes more than to entertain and make others laugh, something he got to discover through his aunty Pinkie.

Not pictured:

Snow Quartz: Artist specializing on ice sculptures. She is the younger sister of Blazing Hooves but unlike her big brother she is calm and relaxed most of the time. She is spontaneous and easygoing. She's witty around her brother and likes to joke with him (on his expense). Her missing leg doesn’t bother her at all.

[solomons-poison]

Unpredictability

Chevalier Michel x reader

: ̗̀➛ A/N: OK I had to do just a little bit more with the Chev thoughts of having a daughter, connected to my headcanon post here, so just have this little slice of life thing. Papa Chevalier has a very special place in my heart ❤️

: ̗̀➛ Warnings: fem reader, reader is the mother of Chev's daughter and queen of Rhodolite; just some sweet fluff mostly in Chevalier's perspective; Chev is likely OOC for a bit lol; not proofread~

: ̗̀➛ Word count: 2193

Chevalier had a knack for predictions. His perception had always been extraordinary, able to pick up the smallest of clues from his environment and the people around him to know what would happen next. It aided him in his development as a prince, working with his brothers to keep the kingdom running smoothly as his father’s health declined, and it helped him now that he was the king of that same kingdom. He was a monster on the battlefield, strategically taking down enemies with the ease of a beast, and was equally a monster in the courts, always knowing what information was needed where and who to deal with.

When it came to you, however, you were his blind spot.

No amount of strategy and foresight could have prepared him for the way your fates intertwined, or the way you captured his very heart in the palm of your hand. A younger Chevalier would have scoffed at such a notion, that he had the human emotion to even fall in love to begin with when he was most aptly labeled as the "Brutal Beast" by every possible noble in the court. But of course all it took was the wisdom and pure heart of Belle to look deep inside and find the truth. Looking back on the events leading up to the discovery of these feelings, once he met you, he realized it couldn't have gone any other way.

You managed to surprise him at every turn, with your unending love, your wisdom, your thoughtfulness and devotion. That's what made you fit to be his queen, someone that helped him bring out and connect with his human side. The day he married you was something he never could have dreamed of in a hundred years, and even much less so, the tiny babbling bundle you delivered into your lives a year later.

Now he watched as his tiny daughter, three years old and full of toddler mischief, ran through the rose gardens of the palace at alarming speed, eager to see you again after being separated during a diplomatic trip– and she wasn’t the only one that was eager. He could just make out the top of her head, her hair color the exact same as yours and bouncing along as she moved.

That was something he was thankful for, the way his daughter resembled you in so many ways. Her hair color, the shape of her face, even her personality and stubbornness was coming to resemble you too, and he had no doubt the similarities would continue as she grew older. She was also attached to books the same, though honestly he was just as much at fault for that as his queen. However, the one thing that differed was that she had inherited his eyes, a strong clear blue that somehow looked right into your soul.

The little princess was beginning to learn how to use those ice blue eyes to her advantage, much to his amusement. When something didn't go her way, she'd glare at whoever was responsible in no dissimilar way to his own until they cracked from the pressure. It was no end of stress to Sariel or his brothers, realizing there was a little Chev 2.0 in the making. She'd even turned that icy gaze onto him, too, managing to surprise him.

Anyone that looked at her knew immediately whose daughter it was, and something about that sentiment, creating this tiny human so clearly made up of his traits and yours together, warmed him up inside.

Getting lost in his reverie, he quickly lost sight of his small child and hastened his pace. The full bushes made it difficult to keep his eye on her, even with his keen eye and sense of danger, so outside excursions were often accompanied by extra help such as the servants or even Lucien on rare occasion. Thankfully, that wasn’t necessary today as you were the one waiting at the end of their journey through the garden, and the thick foliage made the path clear, leading up to a gazebo.

Just as the image of your face came to mind, he could hear a loud exclamation from up ahead, and turned a corner in time to watch his daughter run into your waiting arms.

“Mama!”

You couldn’t help but grunt from the force with which you were tackled, but your arms wrapped around your daughter as she gripped you tightly.

“Hi, my love! I've missed you,” you said, pulling back to kiss the top of her head. You noticed the missing presence of your husband, glancing around before looking back at your child. “I’m so happy to see you again. Where’s your papa at, can you tell me?”

“Papa is slow,” your daughter mumbled, the excitement of seeing you lost already as she caught sight of the butterflies flitting about from bloom to bloom behind you.

Her wording made you giggle against your better judgment. Your husband could be described as many things, but you were certain the word “slow” was not one of them. But almost as if summoned, his platinum blond head came into view over the bountiful rose bushes, and it was as if all was suddenly right with the world— even if he did have a slight frown on his face.

“Little rabbit, I’ve told you not to run ahead in the gardens,” he sighed, entering the gazebo and patting his daughter’s head roughly. Instantly, her attention turned back to him, two pairs of ocean blue eyes meeting briefly before she looked away.

“‘M sorry, papa, I won’t do it again,” she replied, reaching out to hug his leg, gripping the fabric of his pants with tiny hands. Anyone else that saw this scene would expect the King to be cold and unfeeling in response, but instead he sighed, patting her hair awkwardly without a word.

You watched all this quietly, unable to fight the smile that made its way onto your face. The method of his comforting reminded you much of the early days of your relationship in which he did the same, unsure how to touch you or perhaps even afraid to hurt you. Chevalier may have been called the Brutal Beast for his actions, but he was really more of a beast for the way he was unused to loving human touch.

Over time, he’d eventually grown better and more confident with touching you, a way to express his unending love for you that he couldn’t express with his serious and less-than-romantic words. But it all seemed to revert the moment your daughter was born.

You remembered the very first time he had held her. All his brothers and the palace physician had waited with bated breath, and it was clear in Chevalier’s expression that he had his own reservations about what he was about to do. How could hands used for killing, hands used for exterminating the threats to the kingdom and defending the borders, possibly be suitable for holding that of his small, innocent child? The moment his daughter was placed in his arms, his discomfort was extremely clear –to you, at least– arms frozen stiff in an attempt to be gentle to the tiny creature he'd been entrusted with. But it was this same discomfort and worried reaction that showed you just how much he actually cared about her, and about you, too.

The memory brought a smile to your face, which was met by a strong, familiar poke to the forehead.

“Do not let your head get caught in the clouds, Rabbit,” Chevalier said. His voice was chastising, but the smirk gracing his lips was soft, sweet, making your heart thump.

Chevalier caught sight of one of his brothers out of the corner of his eye, a familiar flop of lilac hair waiting just beyond an ivy-covered arch by the gazebo. It reminded him how, as his daughter grew and came to differentiate his brothers, an unfortunate attachment had grown to a particular somebody. Much to his dismay, his daughter seemed to like her uncle Clavis the most, often shouting his name and using her stubby legs to seek him out when she could, and the feeling was mutual with the resident troublemaker. And Clavis delighted in this fact, often rubbing that in his older brother’s face and using it as an excuse to irritate him at every turn.

But today, Chevalier would use it to his advantage if it meant having you to himself, at least for a little bit. He knelt down to eye level with his child, peering into her familiar ice blue eyes.

“Little rabbit, I want to speak to your mother,” he said. He turned in the direction of his brother, pointing to direct his daughter’s attention in the same direction as well. “Why don’t you go see your uncle Clavis? He’s waiting for you in the gardens.”

His daughter’s eyes widened to a comical size, filled with excitement. Her head whipped around to search, despite Chevalier’s finger pointing the way, but thankfully, Clavis was accompanied by his trusty attendant, Cyran, who popped his head out at the perfect time to catch her attention. His shock of red hair made him look like a human rose, against the background of the gardens.

A shrill shriek filled the air, causing you and Chevalier to wince simultaneously. “Unca Cwavis and Cyan!” Your daughter was still having trouble pronouncing her L’s and R’s, but the men didn't mind. Chevalier watched as his daughter shot forward, “Cyan” quickly bowing to Chevalier in greeting before catching the girl in his arms. As he watched the two leave, he felt an arm slip through his and turned to look at you.

“I’ve missed you too, King Chevalier. I’m so glad to see you look okay,” you said, your relief evident in your smile. “How was everything during the visit? Did everything go alright?”

Chevalier huffed at your questions. “Would I have returned so soon if things did not go well?”

Your face scrunched up for a moment, but you were used to Chevalier’s sass.

“I know, but I’m still allowed to worry about you,” you said, leading Chevalier over to a bench in the gazebo. “The people of Rhodolite know now what a kind King you are, but I can’t say the same about people in other countries. And I know you’re capable of handling many things, but I still don’t want you to get hurt. I’ll always wish for your safety and good health, can’t I wish that for my own husband?”

Chevalier took a moment to look at your face, eyes following the curve of your eyebrows and lips, the shape of your nose and jaw, all features he had long since memorized. Finally, he simply snorted, reaching a hand up to poke your forehead again as a smile made its way onto his lips.

“That is awfully sentimental, and also unnecessary,” he said. “I am not so weak as to be felled so easily. I will always return to my Rabbit in the end, so long as you wish to wait for me.”

Now who’s being sentimental? You didn’t dare say that to his face, although the caution was unnecessary, given the way he was always able to read your thoughts based on your expressions alone. His smile turned teasing, clearly knowing what you were thinking, but he didn’t comment further on it.

“Now, I believe you’re forgetting something,” he said expectantly.

He watched as your head tilted in confusion. The gears were clearly turning in your head to determine what he was waiting for, but it only took a moment for understanding to dawn on your face, your lips curving up into a warm smile.

“Welcome home, Chevalier,” you said, stretching up to place a soft kiss to his cheek.

His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as he returned the kiss to your lips, the taste of home filling his senses. He didn’t speak further, but he didn’t have to. Every ounce of his love was put into his kisses, and you gladly accepted it all.

Neither of you could have ever predicted being here, Chevalier least of all. His life had become a fairy tale on par with the romance books he enjoyed reading but never totally understood. No amount of strict noble education, military strategy, or the annoying words of a certain foolish brother could have told him that a future like this was possible. But as he held you close under cover of the gazebo, happy to finally have you in his arms once again, he realized he was okay with that. You came into his life in a whirlwind of drama and intrigue, turning his expectations around and introducing him to so many unfamiliar things and feelings, like fatherhood, yearning, and love. It wore on him, at times, not being able to see where his future was heading thanks to all the new things he was experiencing by your side. However, so long as it was with you, Chevalier supposed he was okay with a little bit of unpredictability.

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[john-get-the-salt]

Soothing (w/rick grimes)

Imagine: Ever since the world went to shit, your anxiety levels have been through the roof. Turns out there's only one thing, or rather one family, that can help ease your stress.

Contains: domestic rick, baby judith, reader being referred to with fem titles, no appearance of Carl sorry just imagine he’s off doing dumb shit

Warnings: none

Relax, you made it home!

You glared down at the doormat as you shoved a key inside the lock and opened the front door. The house you shared with the Grimes family was quaint, with lots of terrible quotes stitched onto pillows and corny sayings carved into wood and hung on walls. The decor remained untouched, exactly the same as the day you moved in.

But, you thought as you let yourself into the house, it might be time to burn that stupid doormat. It didn’t matter how long you spent in Alexandria–you would not be relaxing. Last time you made the mistake of letting your guard down the world taught you a lesson in the form of a psychotic governor. You wouldn’t be making that mistake twice.

Alexandria had been a much needed reprieve, but you hadn’t forgotten the years spent out in the wild. The months spent constantly moving, in search of food and water and any sense of safety. Living with anxiety and fear every day for such an extended period of time left you permanently on edge. So yes, while Alexandria was certainly nice, you weren’t holding your breath. After all….you’d all thought the prison was secure too.

You shook your head to get rid of the the sudden flashing images and memories that came up at the mere thought of the prison. If you let yourself go down that path now you’d be useless for the rest of the day.

As you mentally scolded yourself for becoming distracted, you walked further into the house and then up the stairs to the second floor. You’d come in for a very specific reason. It was Rick’s turn to take a shift on the wall and you wanted to offer to cover it for him. He seemed extra tired lately, and you worried to death he was stretching himself too thin.

However when you got to the landing at the top of the stairs, you froze. A soft voice was coming from one of the bedrooms, and after a moment you recognized it as Rick’s. You stepped closer, avoiding the floorboards you’d learned were creaky, and peaked into the room.

Rick was sitting in a rocking chair with Judith in his lap. He was showing her pictures and talking to her softly.

"This is Carl. He's your big brother."

Judith spit out a bit of jibberish as she grabbed the picture of her brother in her little fist and shook it aggressively. You held a hand over your mouth in an attempt to hide your giggles as Rick tried to gently pry it from her fingers. He finally did, and moved on to the next picture.

He showed her a picture of himself, and Judith pointed from the picture to him. "Daaa," she squeaked, clapping her hands.

Rick's smile was so big it could've outshone the stars, and your heart melted at the adorable sight in front of you. You were about to leave them in peace, dead set on taking his wall shift now, when Rick spoke up again and caught your attention.

"And last but not least..." He trailed off and curiosity got the best of you so you peeked further in.

Rick was showing Judith a picture of you.

The picture was of you, sitting a table with a giant bowl in front of you and a big smile on your face. It was a simple picture, but it had such a meaningful story attached to it.

Last season, around the time you guessed was your birthday, Rick surprised you with a giant ice cream sundae. Sundaes had come up during random pillow talk one night as one of the random things about pre-apocalypse you missed. You thought it was rather silly, but Rick did not. He made you the ice cream with Carol's ice cream maker and bartered with the neighbors to get some of your favorite toppings. It meant so much to you.

Judith pointed at the picture, giggling, and said, "Ma."

For a split second your heart stopped and you could barely breathe.

Rick stopped rocking and looked down at his happy daughter as she reached for your picture, desperate to get her hands on it.

"That's right, Judith. That’s your Mama."

Your eyes began watering and you couldn’t hold back as you sniffed. Rick looked up at the noise, and his eyes softened even more once he spotted you.

You stepped into the room and Judith finally noticed you, smile growing as she got excited and reached her arms out toward you.

"Hi Judith," you cooed.

Rick stood from the rocking chair and you met them, taking your sweet girl into your arms. She didn’t hesitate to bury her face into your neck, murmuring in her special language that no one else could understand.

And just like that, you could feel some of your own anxiety leave you. The tension in your shoulders eased, face smoothing of frown lines. Your entire body sagged with a sudden wave of exhaustion. You leaned into Rick and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you and Judith before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you look peaceful in a while,” Rick murmured quietly, careful not to disturb Judith who had already closed her eyes in the comfort of your arms.

“It’s been bad lately,” you said truthfully. Since the very first time you and Rick discussed being a couple you vowed to always be honest with each other. And that included being honest about your feelings-both good and bad.

Rick knew you didn’t need him to push, you would share more when you were ready. He just continue to hold you tightly.

You allowed your eyes to close, not an easy feat, but in Rick’s arms you felt loved and comfortable and safe.

The romantic moment was broken up when Judith stirred on your shoulder and then Rick was letting out a wince.

You opened your eyes to find her with one of Rick’s curls in her hand as she pulled on it eagerly.

The two of you chuckled as Judith showed off a toothy grin.

Rick rested his forehead against yours and you took this moment to just bask in being with part of your family.

"I love you," he said softly.

"I love you too."

You would do anything for this dysfunctional little family of yours.

Anything.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

I’m the one who asked about the flashback for Ran! Just sending it back as you asked :) I’m so excited to see what you came up with, I was racking my brain for something and I couldn’t come up with an exact scenario. I just love the way you write his raw emotions and how much he loves the reader, and is tortured by what happened to her, and them suffering through the aftermath even though Mikey’s gone.

I actually found a plot point I missed when reviewing the old parts of the story! FLASHBACK FLASH BACK (you'll get another "flashback" after this one that rounds them out. I'm taking this concept and running with it.)

Hand Her Over (Part 7 - A FLASHBACK): Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

wc: calculating...

tw: flashback, angst, drinking

masterlis

Hand Her Over Megapost

The cap to the wine bottle comes undone with a loud pop. Ran tilts the glass just so, intent on catching every single drop left in the almost empty bottle. He's not sure when he started drinking again, but on nights like these, he doesn't give a shit.

No, he knows when he started drinking again. He remembers the exact moment the bottle reappeared in the fridge. That morning, he found you standing in the front yard, letting the freezing breeze and snow into the foyer.

"Sleepwalking," Ran had said at the time, excusing your behavior as a machination of your nightmares. He wasn't sure how long you'd been out there or how many times you'd done something like this. But it startled the shit out of him so bad he had to drink to ease his nerves.

Ran waits for some semblance of the dulling effect to take over. He needed to forget how you stood there, feet covered in snow, cheeks flushed bright red, and shivering. You'd been so cold and--

Ran's grip on the bottle falters. He watches in slow motion as the bottle crashes to the floor, resulting in shards of glass skittering about the wine-slicked tile. Ran feels his head loll, and he stares at the mess, wondering how he'd pick it up now. His feet are bare, too.

You come ambling toward the kitchen moments later, your eyes taking in the scene with alarm. But you don't say anything. Well, save a soft "ow".

"Shit," Ran bites out, finally reacting to the scene, spurred into action due to your injury.

And that's how things started, isn't it?

He knew Mikey was no good. He knew things had gone too far. He knew... he fucking knew and yet... He hadn't done shit about it until you'd gotten hurt.

"Piece of glass in your foot?" Ran wonders, still stuck to his stance in the middle of it. You nod. Ran picks his way around the mess, narrowly avoiding a shard himself, and scoops you into his arms. His senses are slowly dulling, but he had enough time to get you some help before he crashed.

The trip to the bedroom is short, and Ran sits you on the bed, whispering, "Don't move." You don't, and he pads toward the bathroom where the first aid kit awaits him. As he rifles through the box, memories come back to him of you doing the same thing: patching up his scrapes, putting ice packs on his bruises, disinfecting the scabs and gross knife cuts...

When had he ever done that for you?

Never.

He reappears with tweezers and a few large band aids, placing them on the floor before sitting down. He spots the offender almost instantly, though it's not large. Ran takes the tweezers and gently pulls the shard free without much difficulty. You whimper in pain, but it's momentary. Fingers work at patching your wound up with two band-aids and then Ran pats your leg with as much affection as he can muster.

"All better." The statement is punctuated with a gentle kiss against your ankle, and when he rises, he sees the fat tears that have rolled down your face. You wipe them away just as Ran feels the effects of the wine take hold. Things are a little hazy, but he has just enough strength to put you back in bed comfortably.

"I'm going to pay for this for the rest of my life, aren't I?" he whispers to no one, his mind rolling with scenarios as he stumbles into the recliner nearby.

The world is swimming but Ran grips the edges of the recliner before easing himself into it while gritting his teeth. All of his life he'd been the one to watch as someone else handled the messes, handled the delinquents, handled the repercussions of his own actions. Hell, until he raised his gun and fired six bullets into Mikey's chest, he hadn't handled shit for himself. Not really.

Bonten's undoing came as quickly as Ran had told Mikey to fuck himself, to which Mikey's haunted face replied, "You wife would know something about that, wouldn't she?"

The squeezing in Ran's chest started just as soon as he pulled the trigger, clickclickclickclick-ing until the gun itself was empty, and then some more for good measure. By the time Rindou had found him slumped against the desk beside a very dead Mikey, Ran had fired seven blanks and sixteen shots.

Money had changed hands, faces disappeared, people forgot who they were and where they lived and who Ran was, the news ran only one cycle talking about Mikey's death. The rest had been lost to time. And yet, here he is, sitting and stuck in that same spiral he'd allowed himself to get stuck in.

All for you.

Ran's eyes slide to his prize, your face turned towards him and eyes blinking in the dim light of the bedroom. "Hey," he whispers softly, trying for a gentle smile. "I'm alright. Get some sleep." You continue to stare at him and Ran knows instinctively that he's drunker than he ought to be.

"I'll get off the bottle soon," he murmurs, looking away in shame. "Promise."

You turn over to the other side and sigh but Ran can't bring himself to promise you anything else. He'd already brought so much pain into your life, and here he was, doing it again.

The image of you standing in front yard catches him off guard again. Maybe you were trying to get away from him. You'd walked so far--

Ran looks back over at you and feels the black hole in his chest yawn. It stings. The thought of you trying to escape from him burns like hell and he can't--

Ran stifles a gasp for air.

He can't bear the thought of you trying to leave. You had every right - you really did - to run away and find someone who would make you happy. He wouldn't blame you if you did want a divorce and wanted to leave his name. He killed for you, but that meant nothing in the face of your happiness.

It meant--

Ran's mind slips.

He'd count it all up to his payment for so many years of shit and terror and chaos. Surely--

The black hole opens a little wider and the world tilts.

You would be happy.

Ran grips the chair with both of his arms, hearing Mikey's voice in his ears.

"But you don't really love her, do you?"

I do, he wants to shout back at the ghost, challenging it.

The wine... it's the wine that's addling his mind. He's not normally like this - not so insecure, not so needy, but--

She'd be better off without you.

Ran jolts up and hurries out of the bedroom, running his hands through his hair and feeling the panic rush through his veins. There's only one way, one way to alleviate this.

This crushing guilt, the shame, the damn agony he feels at having to do all of this over and over and over again. Reliving his worst nightmare is like driving a stake through his skull, and he can't fucking take it anymore.

The front door swings wide and Ran bursts through it, his body propelling him to run. The urge rages through him, and his breath comes out in bursts of white air. If he had asthma like Rindou, he'd already be winded, but he's got tears freezing against his cheeks, the wind biting at his skin, and--

Ran comes to a stop at the end of the street.

What the hell is he doing?

He bends over, trying to catch his breath, and sees himself through his neighbor's eyes. Here is Ran Haitani, in boxer shorts and a t-shirt, running in the dead of winter with no shoes on. And he laughs.

Ran laughs and laughs and laughs.

He laughs so hard he has to sit down in the snow and hold his sides like a maniac.

Suddenly, he understands Sanzu. He understands the way he copes with things. He can't run; not now. Not when you're at home, needing protection. Ran ambles back up the driveway, still chuckling to himself out of disappointment more than humor.

He couldn't even outrun his own problems. A shame, he thinks, shutting the front door and latching it. What a shame I've turned out to be.

[materassassino]

For the ask thing, Dinluke 💛💖🤎 pwease?

(I'm assuming you gave three options so I could choose one.)

💛 reunion kiss / relief

(Set in the same AU as Those Hands of Yours, That Count the Nights, but approximately two-and-a-half years later.)

Word spreads through the Hoth base like wildfire, hot enough to thaw the walls: they’ve been hailed by a Mandalorian ship. Everyone knows the Mandalorians are nominal allies, and everyone knows what happened to Mandalore a year ago. The fact one is taking refuge here is momentous, and they have the clearance. They’ve been let through.

A crowd has gathered in the hangar, dense enough that Luke has to politely but firmly elbow his way through to the front, to stand beside Leia and Han. Han looks sour, like he does most of the time at the moment. Leia has her arms folded, brows drawn.

“Well?” Luke asks, slightly breathless.

She gives him a small, sad look. “A woman hailed. She gave the right codes but…”

The intimation is unvoiced: don’t get your hopes up.

He tries not to, he really does, but he is made of hope, and always has been.

Like the clean stab of a vibroblade, the Kom’rk fighter/transport slides home into the hangar, coming to a crisp stop and easing off the turbolifts until she settles in a soft cloud of shifted ice crystals. Elegantly done with such a sizeable ship. Han pouts at it like it’s done him great personal wrong.

Even though his heart thuds in his chest, Luke tries to take a deep breath. It could be anyone on that ship: despite Mandalore’s fate, there are thousands of Mandalorians in the galaxy, and all of them are valued allies. He’ll be happy to see anyone who steps off it. All warriors are welcome, especially those of such renown as—

His feet move before he realises. He can sense him, after the horrid, sickening void he’s felt for two years. He catches himself with the Force before he can slip, and is halfway up the loading ramp before anyone has time to notice, to stop him. There is ringing silver in the Force, the most beautiful song in the galaxy.

He grabs the middle figure’s arms, unable to stop himself from breaking into a wide, joyous grin. Immediately a forest of blasters in on him, loaded and ready to fire.

“Din,” he breathes, aware of them but ignoring them. “You’re alive.”

“Luke?” Din chokes out, and a woman with a blue and white helmet gestures for the guards around them to lower their weapons with a roll of her helmet.

Distantly Luke hears Leia let out a sound of pure delight, but it barely registers. Ignoring the crowd, ignoring propriety, Luke surges up. Din meets him halfway, and it’s cold beskar to warm(ish) skin and hair, Luke’s eyes sliding closed.

He’d been on a low simmer of dread for two years, since they separated all that time ago, since they found out about Mandalore, with no inkling Din was actually safe. He’d tried to move on, to let go, but he couldn’t. Some small, perhaps foolish, fragment of hope remained in him.

It’s paid off.

They pull back, and Luke sags with relief. He doesn’t even know what to say. His emotions are in turmoil, and all he can do is stare as the familiar, beloved lines of Din’s helmet, and superimpose the holograph he’s stared at every night.

“Oh, I have good news,” Din says.

“What?”

Din steps slightly to the side, pressing something on his pauldron. A hoverpram floats forward.

“We’re fathers, now,” he says, and the hoverpram opens.

[kaysfanficcorner]

Celebrity Crush, Part 1

Author’s note: I know I should be writing chapter 9 of Out of this World, but I finally watched The Bubble over the weekend and Dieter Bravo temporarily took over my brain. I promise that Din’s still in there and he’ll be back soon. This is just a cute little one off ficlet that will likely consist of a series of one-shots. If you like my writing, please feel free to check out my Din series Out of This World.

Masterlist

Summary: Dieter Bravo makes a new friend and tries desperately not to fuck things up for once.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, drug use (weed), light sexual tension, if you are under the age of 18 you are prohibited from this work of fiction. Minors DNI.

AO3

*****

Charming.

That’s the best word he can think of to describe the energetic, voluptuous woman before him. Sure, she’s fucking gorgeous and he’s already daydreaming about bending her over and fucking her right there in the secluded little corner of the coffee shop, but Jesus fucking Christ is she fucking charming. 

The ease with which she cracks silly jokes, laughing brightly at her own sense of humor. The genuine excitement she displays as she talks about things for which she feels passionately. The little smile she sends his way from across the table every now and again. He can tell she’s nervous, who wouldn’t be, but she’s handling herself so beautifully in spite of it. 

Dieter Bravo, currently living in New York for a lengthy stint in the theater, finds himself in the midst of the most cliché fucking meet cute of all time. She’d been rushing around the corner with an iced coffee in one hand and a phone in the other, and he’d been rushing around the same corner struggling to get a freshly rolled joint lit in the cool autumn breeze. Neither of them had been paying attention to their surroundings, and so the two had collided right into one another. His joint, broken in half and rendered useless, laid soaking in the creamy tan puddle from her fallen cup.

She’d apologized profusely, going so far as to offer him one of the THC gummies from her purse to make up for the destroyed joint. He tells her that he’ll only take a gummy if she’ll let him replace her coffee, to which she agrees. It’s the least he can do when it was equally his fault. His favorite spot for coffee is only a few blocks away, so he leads her there and they get to chatting along the way. He’s surprised by how easy she is to talk to while they are standing in line to order, and soon enough he’s seated across from her in a secluded booth on the second floor even though he’d intended to just replace the coffee and fuck off. Now she’s seated across from him at his usual table, the staff knows him well enough to make sure no one else sits near him while he’s there. The second floor of Hellfire Roasters, a satanic themed coffee shop, is all theirs until they choose to leave. 

Which turns out to not be for a long while. He wasn’t expecting to stay for very long. He figured that he’d get her the coffee, take the gummy, and move on with his day. But then he really gets to talking with her, and he can’t seem to physically pull himself out of this social interaction. He’s glued to his seat, even after the awkwardness of his identity is brought up and subsequently glossed over. She’d known who he was from the second they’d bumped into each other, but it doesn’t seem to effect how genuine she is. 

Apparently she just turned thirty, deciding to uproot her entire life to move to New York on a whim. She tells him that she woke up one day and realized that she couldn’t let her life pass her by anymore. So she threw away half of her belongings and emptied out her savings account to get a tiny little apartment with a friend of hers who also wanted to try out life in the big city. The gorgeous creature seated across from him wants to get into the film industry, horror specifically. She’d actually just been leaving a successful job interview to work on a very small indie film when he’d accidentally knocked her victory coffee from her hand. It’s endearing to hear her speak so bright eyed and bushy tailed about the industry which has been slowly sucking the life from him for the last couple of years. It reminds him of himself when he’d first started out, before he won the Oscar and everything slowly went to shit.

“So yeah, Fright Night from 1985 is the reason I decided I wanted to make monster movies.” She says, eyes sparkling.

He can’t help but grin over his cup, “I mean that’s a great reason, it’s such a great fucking movie that not enough people talk about. Classic 80s schlocky bullshit with John Hughes-ish teen high school kids thrown in? The Peter Vincent shit is also such a fun homage to Hammer Horror.”

“So you weren’t posturing, you do know your horror shit after all.” She sends a cheekily little grin his way, and he knows he’s fucking done for right then and there. 

“You’re pretty when you’re being a smart ass,” he flirts, hoping that it gets the point across without coming on too strong. He’s gotten a lot better when it comes to begging people he just met to fuck him.

“So I’ve been told.” Another cheeky grin finds her lips, this time with the straw of her pumpkin iced coffee nestled between her teeth before she takes a sip. He might start begging soon if she keeps that up.

“M’sure you have, muñequita,” he replies back. “So what specifically about Fright Night does it for you? Like, if this is your favorite movie of all time then there’s got to be multiple reasons.” 

She shrugs, “I dunno, I just love everything about it. The performances, the effects and make up, the humor, the unresolved vampire romance. It’s got everything.” 

“Unresolved vampire romance?”

Her eyes widen as she gawks at him. “Oh my god, do you not remember? When Jerry has that old painting in his house that looks like Amy, Amanda Bearse’s character, in the past. The one dude even says something like ‘she looks just like her’, and later in the movie Jerry just tells Amy something vague like ‘she’s someone I knew a long time ago.’ But that’s all they ever do with it. It used to piss me off that they didn’t go further into that backstory. Charley and Amy defeat Jerry and get to have a happy ending. What about Jerry’s happy ending? I’ve always wanted someone to make a monster movie where the monster actually succeeds in getting the girl, and when no movies like that ever came out I figured I just have to make it myself then.” 

He’s in awe of her, adoring every second of her passionate rantings. She even does little voices when saying the quotes from the film, and Dieter is practically in shambles because of this adorable movie nerd. “You might be the most interesting person I’ve met this year,” he says honestly when she’s finished.

She scoffs, waving him off. “It’s only October, you’ve still got a few months left.” 

He shakes his head, “I highly doubt I’m going to meet anyone better than you between now and January. Or ever, really.”

*****

You’re blushing, trying to hide how much what he just said affects you. This can’t be fucking real. This sort of thing happens in cringey fanfiction, not in real life. Play it cool, dickweed, you have to talk yourself off the ledge before addressing the Academy Award Winner before you. You have no idea how you’re still keeping yourself composed at this point, but he’s easy to talk to so that helps. It’s frankly shocking that he’s being so chill, given that his reputation as a wild man used to proceed him.

“Oh stop,” you gush, “I’m sure you’re going to meet someone way cooler than me later today. You’re Dieter fucking Bravo.”

Dieter shakes his head of messy brown hair, and watching it move about is mesmerizing. “Not a fucking chance! You take the cake, muñequita. I never meet people like you. You have good taste in horror, you’re charming.”

You shake your head, feeling the calming effects of the gummy as little waves of pleasure circulate through your nervous system. Hearing this man of all people say things like that to you might very well break you if you let it. So you change the subject, “I don’t know about you but I’m definitely high. I feel like my edible hit harder than I expected it to and all of this is in my head. Or when we bumped into each other, I actually fell and hit my head so now I’m in a coma. There’s no way I’m sitting across from you of all people, having a cup of coffee and a great conversation. I’ve lived in New York for a week and I’ve already had the best celebrity encounter of all time.”

“Who’s your favorite?” He asks suddenly, leaning forward a little as his brow swoops down to a more serious face. It’s nearly too much for you, how handsome he truly is suddenly taking hold.

“F-favorite what?”

“Celebrity,” he draws out the word, his voice driving you wild internally. Watching his hand gestures as he talks isn’t helping much either.

You choke on the pumpkin latte a little, your own brow shooting up towards your hairline. “I don’t know how to answer that,” you say earnestly. 

“Oh come on. We’re already here, you might as well just be honest.” Dieter pushes, practically poking at you with a stick. 

“You promise not to think I’m a lunatic stalker who ran into you on purpose?” 

“Promise.”

“Honestly? It’s you.” 

He scoffs, “You’re just saying that.” 

You chuckle, knowing you must look as awkward as you feel. “I’m pretty sure the original painting of yours that I have hanging in my living room would beg to differ. My mom special ordered it as a birthday slash housewarming gift because she knew I’ve always wanted one. Your style is so dark and raw. I love it.” 

*****  

Dieter can’t help it. The self centered part of him, the reason he enjoys being a celebrity despite the isolation, is so thrilled to hear this revelation from you. “So… why me? I’m curious.”

You mull this over for a long while, sipping from your iced coffee as you look at his face. It’s insane how calm you are right now. “There was that one horror movie you did early on in your career,” you start, being cut off for a moment when Dieter interrupts you.

“Oh fuck,” he says knowingly, “no one ever talks about that.” 

“I mean, it’s a little outdated at this point but you were so good in it. The fact that no one talks about it is such a crime. First you think its a ghost movie, then it turns out to be a slasher movie, and then you turn out to be the killer? What a fucking ride that was the first time I saw it. I had such a crush on you after that even though you were way older than me. Nearly wore out the VHS tape because I would watch your scenes over and over.” Then your hand flies to your mouth, unable to stop that last sentence before it already left your lips. “Oh Jesus, that is so embarrassing.”

Dieter chuckles, shaking his head as he grins at you. His earring is distracting. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Most people have a celebrity crush.” 

Your face is on fire. “Yeah but most people don’t get to have a cup of coffee and split an edible with their celebrity crush.” 

He leans back in his chair, taking a sip from his London fog. “I guess you should thank your lucky stars, then. And I should thank mine that you’re not a total fucking weirdo.” 

“Oh, I’m definitely a weirdo. Just not a stalker,” you chuckle, feeling at ease once again.

The two of you sit there for another two and a half hours, chatting about movies and music and drugs and everything else under the sun that you’re both interested in. He ends up ordering the both of you food when he realizes that he’s completely missed the lunch meeting he was supposed to have. Fuck ‘em. You are way more interesting than whoever he was supposed to meet. It wasn’t a meeting about a job, so fuck it. 

Dieter knows he could sit there and talk to you all night, but curtains go up in three hours and if he doesn’t get to the theater soon the director and his agent are going to actually kill him. He knows that one of the missed calls that just vibrated in his pocket has to have been one of them. You’re mid sentence about your favorite food, and he has to interrupt you even though it pains him to do so. 

Dieter looks you over after the interruption, and you can’t help but think that he looks almost nervous. “Sorry to cut you off, but I really have to get going. I’d say that I hate to be forward, but that would be a lie. Can I give you my number? It was really nice to meet you and get to know you a little. I wouldn’t mind seeing you again.” 

You’re so floored by this that your mouth hangs open and you nod dumbly. He holds his hand out expectantly and you just stare at it for a moment before realizing that he wants your phone. Plucking the thing out from your purse, you pull up the contact book and hand it over. Dieter smiles across the table at you, the tip of his tongue poking out from the left side of his mouth as he types. Then he takes a silly selfie. On your phone. Dieter Bravo just took a selfie on your phone. 

He hands your personal device back over, and you look down a the newly added contact.  It says “Celebrity Crush” instead of his name and the accompanying picture is the selfie he just bestowed upon you. Its the cutest picture of him you’ve ever seen, and you get to keep the only copy of it all to yourself. 

“Well if you get to do that then give me your phone,” you say, holding your hand out in the same way he had to you. He gives you a similar but newer model of the phone you’ve had for several years, so you make quick work of adding your contact information. After taking a similarly silly selfie and handing it back over, you chuckle as Dieter reads what you input into his contacts. 

“Coffee Shop Weirdo,” he reads out loud, “that’s perfect. And this picture is fucking cute.” 

“Thanks,” you blush, cheeks heating up. “You better get going, Bravo. Maybe I’ll come see your show next week.” 

Dieter’s face lights up, becoming that of a wound up puppy before a bowl of fresh kibble. “If you want to come tonight I’ll have them save you a ticket at the box office. Doesn’t have to be tonight if you’re busy, but if you’re not and you want to.”

“Are you sure it’s not too late notice? I heard it was sold out for opening week.” 

Dieter shoots you an incredulous look, “I’m the star. I can get you a fucking ticket.” 

After a millisecond of hesitation you agree, knowing that this entire day has been a once in a lifetime kind of day. From getting the job, to meeting Dieter, to this invitation. This is the kind of life changing shit you’ve been aching for. “Okay, sure. I’d love to see your acting chops live. I’ll just run home and change into something nice and head over to the theater.” 

“Perfect,” he breathes, grinning ear to ear. “I’ll be on the lookout for you after the show.” 

“Great, thank you. And thank you again for lunch. This was nice.” 

“Yeah it was, wasn’t it?” Then his phone starts vibrating with the fifth call in a row and he groans, tapping the green answer button with his ringed thumb and placing the thin device to his ear. He immediately pulls it back out a few inches with a grimace when the voice on the other end starts screaming at him. “Fuck, Barbra. You don’t have to fucking scream at me. I’ll be there soon, I’m only ten blocks from the theater.” 

You can hear the shrill female voice clearly ask, “What in the name of fuck was so important that you didn't come back from your lunch break for three fucking hours?”

Dieter looks directly to you and grins, “I was making a new friend.” 

“I swear to fucking god, Bravo. You better not be back to your old habits. You fucking promised me that shit was done. If you weren’t making me so much money right now I’d fucking kill you myself.” 

“Love you too, Babs. See you soon,” Dieter says cheerfully as he hangs up. 

“Sorry I got you into trouble,” you offer awkwardly, feeling a little bad that he’s late because of you even though you’re well aware that he could have left at any time. 

He stands, gesturing for you to join him as he laughs a little. “I can assure you that I’m the only one who ever gets myself into trouble, muñequita. Don’t worry about my agent, I can handle her. She’s a bitch and a half but they all are and she gets me good gigs like this Shakespeare show.” 

Dieter leads you to the exit of the coffee shop, leaving a generous tip with the barista on the way out. Once outside he dons his shades and pulls the collar of his black pea coat up in an attempt to not be noticed by anyone. He’s late enough as it is, he doesn’t need to stop for selfies fifty times on his way to work. 

“I really do hope you come to the show tonight,” he says, looking down at you as he scratches the back of his head. What you wouldn’t give to run your fingers through that fluffy hair of his.

You grin up at him, “It’ll be a close call with the train but if I’m quick about changing my clothes, I should make it back to this end of town just in time. I’ll be there, Dieter.” 

His very genuine smile melts your heart right then and there. Fuck, this is about to get complicated.  

“Great!” Your celebrity crush says, “See you tonight!” 

And then he’s gone as quickly as he had appeared, around a corner and out of sight in all but a moment. You head for the nearest train station, having to use your gps since you’re nowhere near accustomed to life in New York just yet. The city is so huge that it’s overwhelming when you’re tying to go somewhere quickly. 

After sending a text to your roommate that you’ll be home soon and that you have something fucking insane to tell him, you get ready to board the train heading towards your little apartment in Queens with a podcast playing in your ear buds. Soon enough, as in like an hour later, you’re back home and frantically looking for a nice dress to wear to Dieter’s play. It’s bad enough that fancy clothes aren’t really something you ever bothered to have on hand before moving to the city, but the fact that you’re not done unpacking doesn’t help your case either. 

“So you mean to tell me,” Henry, your best friend of over a decade and the only person crazy enough to move to New York with you, is standing in your doorway with a cup of instant noodles in his hands. He’s speaking between slurps of broth, “that the dude who I have to look at a hideous Funko Pop of whenever I go into the kitchen met you on the street, bought you lunch, gave you his number, and invited you to see his play for free? How much of those edibles did you take today?” 

“I’m not high, you fucking asshole.” Gritting your teeth, you glare at Henry before upending a box of clothes right on top of your bed. 

“Yes you are,” Henry grins, laughing as he dodges the small black throw pillow you throw his way.

You roll your eyes, digging around the pile of clothing, “Okay, yeah, I’m high. But I’m always a little high and everything I just told you really fucking happened. I showed you the picture he left in my camera roll, I can’t make this shit up!”  

Henry taps a finger to his chin, feigning deep thought. “How do I know that wasn’t from instagram and this isn’t some sort of break in your psyche because you read too much fanfiction about that space character he plays. You know, the funko pop in the kitchen?” 

“Oh god, I should delete my tumblr.” 

Just as you say that, your phone goes off with a little ding. A feeling you haven’t felt in a long time, titillating anticipation at a text from someone of the opposite sex, arises within you when you glance over and see the name of the contact.

“Oh my god. He fucking texted me,” you start to bounce around the room, “I can’t open it. What if he’s like ‘never mind don’t come and delete my number’?”

“You’re a crazy bitch, but I love you dearly,” Henry says, moving to grab your phone. You try to snatch it from him but he’s a good bit taller than you and holds it up so that you cannot reach. He unlocks the phone with ease, having known your password for years. “Two texts from ‘Celebrity Crush.’ Ugh, really? That’s so corny, but for some reason I don’t hate it.” 

“Oh my god you fucking dick, what did he say?!” You’re practically jumping up and down grabbing for your phone. 

“Text one: Your ticket is at the box office. I left them your name so just make sure you have your ID.” Henry reads the message, pretending to fan himself. “Oh my this is hot stuff. Text two… Oh… well this is quite a development.”

The way he says that makes you feel horrified, lunging for the phone once more. “What?! Is it a dick pic or something?!”

“Pfft, I wish. No, text two says: I can’t stop thinking about how good Fright Night is thanks to you. I haven’t seen it in years. If you’re not busy after the show, would you want to come back to my place and watch it?” Henry gapes at you, finally relinquishing the phone. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit! What do I say?” You look down at the two messages and then back up to your best friend with pleading eyes.

Henry looks you up and down, putting a hand on your shoulder.  “If this really isn’t you fucking with me, then for the love of Christ say yes!” 

You take a few deep breaths, “Okay, okay. I can do this. Go make me something to eat please so I can get dressed and get the fuck out of here.” 

Henry starts to leave your room but turns in the doorway to look back at you. “Wear the black dress from New Years 2018. Don’t pack anything, that way you have to wear his clothes if you spend the night. Speaking from personal experience, when your booty call wears your clothes its a huge turn on. And make sure your location is on so I can come rescue you if he’s a secret serial killer. I know you love him because he played one once, hopefully that was just a role.” 

“Noted. Go make me food before I throw something at you, please.” You send a joker-like grin his way and watch as your best friend walks off with a laugh. Then you glance back down to your messages with Dieter, seeing that he’s typing again. 

Celebrity Crush: Hey sorry to bother you again, just wanted to say no pressure about coming over. I know we just met. 😅

Feeling badly about leaving him hanging long enough to make him doubt himself, you quickly tap out a response. 

Coffee Shop Weirdo: Hey Dieter, thanks again for scoring me a ticket. If you think you’ll really feel up to it after preforming, I’d love to come over and watch Fright Night with you. 😊

The typing bubble pops up immediately after your text shows as read, causing a little smile to tug at your lips and a flutter in your belly. 

Celebrity Crush: Great! I’m looking forward to seeing you again. Stay put after the show and I’ll come find you. 

Coffee Shop Weirdo: I’m looking forward to seeing you again too. So glad you knocked my coffee out of my hands today. 

Celebrity Crush: Oh so it was all me now, huh? I see how it is, muñequita. 🤨

You highlight the word muñequita, clicking the translate button to confirm that it’s Spanish for little doll, and your grin widens even more.

Coffee Shop Weirdo: You flirting with me, Bravo?

A moment goes by with the message having been read, then the typing bubble pops up again. 

Celebrity Crush:  Yeah, if you’re okay with that.

Coffee Shop Weirdo: I’m definitely okay with that.

Celebrity Crush: I’m getting called away. Wont be able to message you again until the show’s over. Be safe getting to the theater, see you soon. 

Coffee Shop Weirdo:  See you soon. Break a leg 🦴 

After sending the last text, you manage to find the black dress from 2018 that Henry suggested. He’s right, its perfect. Floor length with a slit up the right thigh, the sparkly long sleeved gown is perfect for the occasion you so desperately need it for. True to your own sense of style, you pair it with ankle length black combat boot platforms and black accessories. 

Henry brings you a cup of noodles which you practically inhale before getting dressed and quickly attending to your hair and makeup. 

Soon enough you’re back on the train, heading for the theater district feeling as if you’re living someone else’s life because this can’t possibly be yours. 

*****

@missbabyjay you’re welcome 😉

[graceandfamily]

Edward Quinn meets Grace Kelly and Prince Rainier of Monaco

I was lucky to have been there when they first met.

During the Cannes Film Festival in 1955, an editorial director of Paris Match, Gaston Bonheur, suggested that a meeting between the Hollywood star Grace Kelly and the bachelor Prince Rainier of Monaco could make a nice story.

When he was asked, Prince Rainier agreed and an appointment was arranged. As I already knew and had photographed Prince Rainier and also Grace Kelly, I was asked by Match to go with their team. There was Pierre Galante, then married to actress Olivia de Havilland, Jean-Paul Olivier and Michel Simon. Grace kept us late, so the American car that was to bring her had to speed off. Just as we got to the main road, the driver, Monsieur Lapinière, a Metro Goldwyn representative, suddenly braked. As I was driving very close, so as not to be left behind, I could not stop and crashed into the back of Grace’s car. Fortunately, there was no great damage and we were able to go on.

As there had been no time for lunch, Grace said she wouldn’t mind having a sandwich, so we went to the bar of the Hotel de Paris in Monte Carlo.

Grace Kelly at the bar of Hotel de Paris.

We got to the palace just after three o’clock, the time set for the rendezvous with the prince. Colonel Severac, the commander of the Palace, came to greet us and explained that Prince Rainier was delayed, but he had telephoned to say that Miss Kelly’s visit to the palace could begin without him. One of Prince Rainier’s personal servants, Michel Demorizi, guided us around some of the great number of rooms in the palace.

In the “Salle du Throne”, Monsieur Demorizi explained that all the reigning princes of the Grimaldi family had been enthroned in this room. We moved through the York Chambers, the “Salle des Glaces” and into the Napoleonic museum, where Grace was obviously impressed when she was shown a lock of Napoleon’s hair. The only one amongst us who did not seem to enjoy the visit was Monsieur Lapinière. It was now nearly four o’clock, and he said that Grace had to leave at once if she was to be ready in time for the official American reception for the festival.

After a while, we all got worried and began to think that Prince Rainier might not come. By now even Grace showed some signs of nervousness, but perhaps not for the same reason. She looked around for a mirror to make sure her makeup was alright. While we all waited, Grace questioned us: How does one address a prince? Could Prince Rainier speak English? How old is he?

Finally, the prince arrived and Grace Kelly, who had rehearsed her royal curtsy several times, hardly bent her knee when she was face to face with Prince Rainier. With a reassuring smile and a simple “Hello, pleased to meet you”, the prince seemed to put Grace at ease.

Grace Kelly meets Prince Rainier. The moment of the first formal handshake.

It was amazing, however, that these two famous persons seemed shy and intimidated. Grace looked at Rainier and seemed at loss for words.

Sensing this tension, I thought it might be an appropriate moment to suggest that I would like to take some photos in the palace gardens. This broke the ice. Prince Rainier was relieved and agreed at once. Naturally my main reason for asking them to go outside was just a photographer’s reaction. The light was better outside and of course the garden would make a better setting. Prince Rainier took Grace over to a spot where he could show her the view over his principality. They were both relaxed now. Their conversation became easier and they seemed to be getting on well.

Prince Rainier took Grace down to his exotic gardens and then to his lions’ cage. Grace seemed astonished and quite frightened when Rainier put his arm into the cage and stroked one of the lions. We were all quite happy to prolong this enjoyable visit, but the merciless Monsieur Lapinière seemed on the verge of a nervous fit and kept pointing to his watch. Grace had to take the hint and explained to Prince Rainier that she must go back to Cannes as soon as possible.

Probably not even Prince Rainier realized, while he was doing the honour of showing his palace to Grace Kelly, that she was to be the future sovereign. Grace was quite silent as she was driven back to Cannes. Her only remark was: “He is charming, charming.”

The pictures of Grace Kelly and Prince Rainier appeared in Paris Match, but the story was quickly forgotten by most people, except by Prince Rainier and perhaps by Grace Kelly. Prince Rainier arranged for showings of all of Grace Kelly’s films in his private screening room at the palace. According to his friends, the prince was intrigued and fascinated by the cool enigmatic star from Hollywood.

When Prince Rainier visited the U.S. a few months later, there were a few discreet meetings with Grace Kelly, thanks to the kindly American priest who was Prince Rainier’s palace chaplain, Father Tucker.

Prince Rainier asked Grace Kelly to marry him during a private party in New York. The unofficial news of their engagement travelled very fast and on January 4th, 1956, I was awakened in the middle of the night by a telephone call from New York. At that time long distance calls were still an event. It was Charles Eisnitz of the famous Globe Photo Agency, who called to inform me about Prince Rainier’s engagement and asked me to send all the photos I had of the couple.

The end of the story is well known. After the marriage of Prince Rainier and Grace Kelly, it became more and more difficult to get exclusive pictures. I decided to concentrate my work on the artists, and especially on Pablo Picasso.

Edward Quinn

[arazialotis]

Get Him to the Con - Part 7

Pairing: Jensen × Reader

Word Count: About 6000

Summary: The reader stumbles into Jensen at her favorite bar, a very drunk Jensen. She soon realizes Jensen was booked for a con this weekend and has to be eight hours from town in only two.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Warnings: Language

Although this is an RPF, it is a character I created and should not reflect back IRL. I intend no hate or ill wishes to him or his family. This is purely just for writing and wasting my time as coping skill. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

*** Saturday ***

“Hey man,” Jared greeted Jensen, clasping hands and pulling him in for a half hug. “Glad to see you’re still alive. How was it?”

The entirety of the trip was still catching up to him. He was tired, from being in constant motion for three days straight to sleeping on crappy motel mattresses. But it was more than that. He had made it blatantly clear how he felt for you and still held no inclination on your stance. That wasn’t true; if you had any affection, it would have been reciprocated. Sure, there was the flirtatious banter and the natural ease in each other’s presence, but twice he had laid it all on the line only to be met back with a block of ice. And that last one… Hell, it had been magical. Sparks flying, gravity-defying. But your response confused the hell out of him. He’d been misinterpreting signals and your friendship the entire time. And god, he was such an idiot. He practically forced it upon you. If you felt uncomfortable or violated, his reputation would be in shambles, as he knew it should be.

“It was fine.” He grumbled. There was no need to get into all this with Jared, for the fact alone he would gloat about being right for months on end.

Jared did not let his relief show. Maybe Jensen was finally coming back to his senses. He feigned empathy instead.

“Just fine?” He asked.

No, it wasn’t just fine; it was amazing. You were amazing, and perfect, and hilarious. And he fucked it up just like he predicted.

“Yeah,” Jensen responded curtly.

“So, no Y/N then?” Jared pressed, a little confused by Jensen’s abruptness. “I thought she’d be here.”

Yeah, you and me both, pal. “Nah, she knew we’d be busy all weekend and wanted to hike the mountains instead. I don’t blame her. I’d rather be doing that myself too.”

“Are you okay?” Jared persisted.

“Yeah.” Jensen squeaked. “Let me get cleaned up. Then we can scout out some dinner before the craziness starts.”

Jensen left Jared in the hotel lobby. Jared sighed, unsettled. Something was clearly bothering Jensen, but getting him to open up would be hard. All Jared knew is it was centered around you. Ultimately, if the road trip didn’t go as planned or wasn’t everything Jensen had dreamed up, it was for the best. Sure, Jensen was down now, and it hurt to see him this way, but hopefully, this would help him move on and snap out of these unrealistic fantasies.

Jensen didn’t sleep well that night. The mattress was too plush, the sheets too silky, and the space beside him was too cold. He’d been informed that a few videos of the kiss had been circling some fan accounts and to expect questions about it at the panels. Followed by a scolding lecture on how to respond. He knew the expected response but wondered what he would say if he hadn’t been coached. It didn’t settle right with him. Maybe he’d get up early and call you in the morning. Just rip the bandaid off and ask what you wanted him to say. He tossed and then tossed again—the sheets tangling around his calves. He reached for his phone, the light momentarily blinding him. His heart raced as he scrolled through Instagram. It was easy enough to find. Replaying it, he could still imagine your lips against his, the back of your neck in his grasp, the fabric of his shirt straining as you pulled against it. It was a very good kiss. That is when your text came through.

‘Thanks again for an amazing trip! If you’re looking for a buddy on your next road trip, let me know. And don’t worry, the ghosts here are all bark, though I can’t say the same for those in room 217.’

He didn’t think his heart could drop further, but it did. There was no second-guessing it this time. The word repeated in his mind. Buddy. He had officially and unequivocally been friend-zoned.

*** Sunday Afternoon ***

If AllTrails had been tracking your time, they would have sent you a medal for the record time in which you descended that mountain. Even paying no heed to the speed limit, you couldn’t make it to Denver until mid-afternoon. You called Jensen twice, hoping to explain that you were on your way and wanted to talk, hoping he could spare a few minutes of his day. If you held these pent-up emotions in your chest any longer, you would explode. On the third attempt, you hung up early, logically knowing he was predisposed.

“Come on, come on, come on,” You chanted through the city streets, the consistent string of red lights taunting you.

The wheels of the rental car screeched as you pulled into the parking lot with a little too much tenacity. Upon exiting, you backtracked, realizing you had left the vehicle running. You ran through the hotel lobby to the adjoining convention center. The hall was filled with fans and staff alike, all eagerly waiting for the next event. Booths were filled to the brim with Supernatural merchandise, shirts, photos, and trinkets. Cosplayers caught your eye, Castiels and a human version of Baby. It was overwhelming and distracting from your overall mission to find him.

You pulled open large double doors leading to the main ballroom.

“Ma’am.” Someone called, and it took you a moment to realize they were speaking to you. “Ma’am. You need a wristband to enter here.”

Security personnel dressed in black pants and a yellow shirt with a conspicuous earpiece halted your progress further into the room.

“A wristband?” You questioned.

“Yes, you have to check in outside. Exchange your ticket for a wristband.” They explained.

“I don’t have a ticket.”

“You’ll have to buy one to enter.” Their patience drawing thin, tired of a weekend of over-explaining processes.

“Okay,” You held up your hands in defense. “Okay, where can I buy one?” You started to back away, signaling you wouldn’t be a problem.

You followed the directions back through the hall’s entrance to a booth where two bored attendants scrolling through their phones sat. Most attendees had already checked in at this point.

“Hello,” You tentatively called them from their screens. “I’m here to see Jensen.”

The one with pink hair sighed. “You and everyone else, sweetheart.”

Their concentration broke from the phone, and puzzlement crossed their face. Only then did you realize what state you were in from the morning hike. Tangled hair, sweat-crusted clothes, dried dirt down your entire left side, and a series of angry red scrapes on your calve. But they quickly recomposed themselves. Apparently, it wasn’t the oddest thing they had encountered today.

They grumbled as if you should know the process. “Ticket?” They held out their hand for a paper stub or your phone.

“You see, I don’t have a ticket.” You gritted your teeth, knowing how the next bit would sound. “But Jensen and I are actually… friends. So maybe he left my name or something on a list so I could get in?”

Something between a scoff and a laugh escaped the second’s mouth, covered up by a following cough.

“There’s no list. Friend or not, you still need a ticket to get in.” They held firm.

“Right, totally understandable.” You attempted to present as sane as possible, realizing passersby were staring too long for your comfort. “May I purchase a ticket?”

“If you want to meet Jensen in person, photo ops are done for the day, but we have a few silver packages that include autographs.” They explained.

“Great, that sounds wonderful. How much?” You asked compliantly.

“750.”

Now it was your turn to scoff. “You must be joking.” Even for romantic prospects, paying that absurd amount would take hell freezing over.

From their facial expression, they were not joking. “You could get general admission for 95, but that will only get you to the day's last panel, starting in about an hour.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A 100 dollars to hear them talk for what, forty minutes, an hour max?” Fucking ridiculous.

“You need a ticket.” They crossed their arms.

“Listen.” You pulled out your phone. “I literally drove the man here. I have the pictures. I think it will be okay if I go see him.”

You realized how much of a ‘Karen’ you were coming across as, but something inside you was starting to boil. The further you were being pushed away from him, the more you needed to fight.

The second attendant leaned into the collar of their polo, whispering. “We have a potential code gray.”

Fuck. You tucked your phone away. “You know what, it’s okay.” You slowly back away. “I’ll wait until it’s over. This is a big misunderstanding and does not need to get out of hand. I’ll talk to him tonight, and it will all be fine.”

You weren’t sure if you were trying to settle them or yourself, but you turned back down the hall and hastily walked out. Back in the hotel lobby, you weighed your options. You looked at your phone, and he still had not responded to the missed calls. Your stomach rumbled, and you smirked, knowing Jensen would tease you about not making the most rational decisions on an empty stomach. And you know what else? He’d encourage your spontaneity. Rather than wait in the lobby until the evening, you’d find another way in. There couldn’t be watching eyes everywhere. And once you did find him, he’d explain everything to whoever was being called in for code gray or whatever that meant.

Exiting the lobby, you circled the building and found a little courtyard where fans sat, chatted, and indulged in a quick meal. A hint of envy glossed over your eyes as you caught sight of an In-N-Out bag. You anticipated the doors to be locked, circumventing fans to use the one entrance, but they easily gave way. With feigned nonchalance, you went through another hall as if you belonged and knew exactly where you were going. Having quickly mapped the layout, you went around the ballroom to the back.

You were quickly met with a barricade of metal fences and high black curtains. An obvious sign to keep out and most likely where cast and crew could walk through unimpeded. You were close to out of ideas when an unmistakable figure in black jeans and a blue denim shirt walked past, followed by a posse.

“Jensen!” Your voice cracked.

It didn’t sound like your voice. It was higher and sharper. But through the sways of fabric, you saw him briefly hesitate. He was quickly ushered along.

“Oh, I think not.” You mumbled to yourself.

One leg was over the fence railing before your brain could comprehend your actions. Two shadows approached from behind the curtain as you straddled the cold metal. The crackling of their radio startled you, and you realized too late your mistake.

“Ma’am, we’ll need you to come with us.”

Double fuck. You ran for the exit back to the courtyard. Pausing once outside, you texted Jensen.

‘You remember that bucket list item I was talking about? Yeah, well, it might be much closer in the future than I anticipated.’

You tucked your phone away and continued your circle of the building. At this point, you were in too deep. You either had to leave the premise or find Jensen so he could bail you out. Well, fuck it. Unwittingly, he was the one to get you into this situation in the first place. He could get you out. You came across a stairwell entrance requiring a keycard for access. But gods, be blessed; whoever was watching you sent an answer. Someone came out for a cigarette break, and they even held the door for you as you stepped in.

You plotted the path in your mind, where you were positioned, and the direction he was headed. You took a left, scanning the area for any threat. A hall stemmed down to the right, and you saw more black curtains, but this time, you were successfully on the other side of them. You had to be close. A mischievous smile crossed your lips. This was fun. The adrenaline coursing through your system giving you a temporary high. Soon the Ocean Eight team would be knocking down your door, begging you to join their next heist.

Your false confidence shattered as you collided with the solid frame of a man. You looked up and up some more. His expression was far from pleased. A small, terrified giggle escaped your lips. As you turned, you found his double blocking your exit. Handcuffs came down upon your wrists, and you were escorted away.

Jensen sighed a breath of relief, making it to the holding room, where he joined Jared. He made it through photo ops; all that was left today was the panel and autographs. The panel earlier today for VIPs went better than expected too. The kiss never came up, and he was holding out hope that this next one would mirror it. Clif, his long-trusted security guard, closed the door behind them.

Jared had already gone through a pour of bourbon and was now cracking the seal of a Russel’s 13.

“Make mine a triple,” Jensen instructed.

Jared laughed. “That kind of day, huh?” And handed Jensen a generous double.

“I can almost see the finish line.” Jensen sniffed the top of the Glencairn and took a testing sip.

He prayed that the whiskey would loosen his nerves or, at the very least, get you off his mind. Logically, he knew you were in Estes Park but couldn’t stop thinking about you. It only worsened as the day progressed. In this last hour alone, he thought he glanced at you exiting the lobby and later heard you calling his name. He shook the feeling off as he took a bountiful swig. He smirked, knowing you’d call him out for not slowly savoring the whiskey’s intricacies, and he would retort with you being a snob. He poured himself another round, this time to take it more slowly. Jared scoffed and was about to condemn him when the Barrell Seagrass caught his eye.

The radio crackled, and a stern voice came through. “Tiny, we have a situation. Require your assistance.”

Clif, who was also about to help himself a pour, cursed under his breath upon hearing his codename. It had almost been a flawless con. He had jinxed himself by celebrating too soon.

Jared’s brow furrowed. “Everything alright?”

Clif grumbled. “It will be once I get there.” And exited the room.

Jensen was unconcerned and too focused on the palate of cherry and leather.

“What’s that about?” Jared chuckled.

“I find it better for my mental health not to dwell on the possibilities.” Jensen teased back.

He went to his phone charging on the gray console to check the time, wondering when he’d needed to start hyping himself back up. Immediately his brow furrowed upon seeing your three missed calls and your message. Bucket list? Bucket list? He had to think back. The alcohol already clouding his memory. His eyes popped. Immediately setting the glass down, he dialed your number. You didn’t answer. He dialed again. No answer. He resorted to texting.

‘For the love of god, pick up your damn phone.’

Followed by, ‘I swear to god if your ass is in jail, I’m not bailing you out.’ Though he fully would.

“Jesus Christ.” He muttered. How was he supposed to get through the day now?

The holding room you were kept in was less of a room and more of a closet. The several monitors that observed the conference center’s layout indicated that you were not as stealthy as you had initially thought. One security guard sat across from you while the other stood behind them. Both of their arms crossed.

“Come on.” You reasoned. “One of you has to be the good cop and at least pretend to believe my story. At least offer me a coffee.”

“You think you are hilarious, don’t you?” The one seated said.

Deadpan, you said, “I think I’m adorable.”

They did not engage further, only held the stern expression.

“I’m not fucking crazy.” You would have gestured to the phone if your hands weren’t cuffed behind you. “You saw the pictures, the texts.”

“It’s amazing what Photoshop can do these days.” The one standing remarked.

“What about the video with the kiss?” You pressed.

They both scoffed. As you watched it with them, there was no clear angle of your face.

“That doesn’t prove anything.”

You rolled your eyes and clenched your jaw.

“Then bring him here, and he will vouch for me.” You demanded. “If he doesn’t, I will willingly walk away and accept whatever restraining order you see fit.”

There was a knock on the door, and your hope lifted. The one standing stepped out. Thus commenced a staring contest with the one across from you. As your phone rang, you lost.

“That’s him!” You exclaimed.

They didn’t move, still engaged in the staring contest. He let it ring to voicemail. Immediately it rang again.

“Goddammit! Answer the phone!” You demanded.

“Just because you named someone Jensen on your phone doesn’t mean it’s him.” He held his head high. “But then again, I’m fully aware there is no use rationalizing with a delusional person.”

Your breath became ragged and sharp. You were forming venom on your lips when the door opened, and the man you saw yesterday approaching Jensen appeared in the room. A couple of texts came through, but you couldn’t read them. The man took one look at you and sighed with disappointment.

“Let her go.” He instructed.

It was all you could do not to stick your tongue out in victory.

“Y/N, I thought you were supposed to be in Estes Park?” He said with an agitated tone.

The cuffs clicked as they released, and you rubbed your wrists.

“How do you know my name?”

You were equally concerned yet grateful this stranger was on your side.

“It’s my job to know.”

The other two whispered back and forth to each other.

“Speaking of jobs,” He remarked. “Why don’t you do yours and look for an actual threat?”

“Yes, boss.” They hung their heads and left you alone in the room.

“Let me guess,” You started. “Good cop?”

He chuckled. “No, not at all. The name’s Clif. I’m the head of Jared and Jensen’s security team. You caused quite the stir these past couple of days.”

“Yeah,” You agreed. “I may have gone a little off the deep end at the end there. Am I in trouble?”

“Only if Jensen wants to press charges.” You could tell he wasn’t joking. “Which I imagine he won’t. Not after a kiss like that.”

Your cheeks grew warm. “I’m here to talk about that with him, actually. To talk about that and a lot of other things. I know he’s busy, but…”

Clif checked the silver watch around his wrist. “He’ll be getting ready to go on stage in about 15 minutes. Something tells me you’ll need more time than that.”

You nodded in agreement though slightly disappointed.

“If you’d like to sit in, it might make the time go faster,” He continued. “I can grab you afterward. There’s a dinner break between the panel and autos. I think he would be agreeable to see you then.”

You held up your bare wrist. “I don’t think they’ll let me in.”

Clif chuckled and fished through his back pocket, producing a bright orange wristband.

Before you left with Clif, you found Jensen’s texts and shot him one back, hoping he would see it before he had to go on stage.

‘False alarm. I’ll explain later. Have a great panel.’

The conversation was already in full swing by the time you arrived. Clif was escorting you there when he commented on your leg. Now that the adrenaline and pain meds from earlier had worn off, the pain was catching up to you. He made a quick pit stop on your behalf, getting you some additional painkillers and water. He insisted on cleaning it up better, but you insisted harder you wanted to see the panel and that it could wait.

The door echoed as it shut behind you. Jensen’s head snapped in your direction, but from the lights blinding him and dimming the crowd, he could barely make out a figure. He continued the banter with Jared as they began taking questions left and right.

As your eyes adjusted to the low lighting, you scouted out empty seats, yet the throbbing in your hip protested. It had already been cramped on the drive down here and again in the security room. You opted instead to lean against the back wall. Their antics riled up a laugh in you, but you couldn’t help to notice Jensen was on edge. He was fidgeting more than usual, wringing the microphone with his hands, combing his fingers through his hair, twisting in the barstool. You couldn’t help but feel a slice of guilt knowing you had caused some of it.

A girl walked up through the crowd, and as she got closer, her face felt familiar. She leaned against the wall a few feet away from you.

“Oh, I remember you.” You said aloud. “We took pictures with you at the Colorado sign.”

She glanced out of her peripheral and then fully at you when the realization hit.

“Oh my god, yeah. You were with Jensen, right?” She confirmed.

“Yup, that’s me.” You followed her gaze over you and remembered how dirty you were and most likely smelled of sweat. “Sorry, I went hiking this morning but wanted to make the panel.” You explained.

“No, I didn’t mean to stare. Sorry.” She gulped. “It’s just, yesterday you said you were only friends, but then we saw you kiss outside the hotel, and, like, that was a kiss to end all kisses. You’re totally together now, right?”

You gulped and stared ahead.

She didn’t wait for an answer. “What was it like? Kissing him?”

You inhaled sharply, remembering his taste, his scent, the feeling of his strong fingers against your flesh, wondering where else his hands and lips might wander if you gave him the chance.

“That good, huh?” She concluded.

“Are you having a good time at the convention?” You asked, hoping to move on to other topics.

“Oh, absolutely, but the crowds,” She gestured outwards. “They get a little overwhelming at some points.”

You nodded understanding. “Y/N.” You introduced yourself and held out your hand.

“Casey.” She said and shook.

As if proving her point of crowds further, Jensen used the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face. The crowd went feral upon seeing a hint of skin.

“Stop it.” Jensen’s voice boomed over the system.

Then with a wave of his hand, he called for more praise which the crowd was more than happy to oblige. This went back and forth for at least three rounds. Jared and Jensen shared a private small conversation.

“Alright, alright, simmer down,” Jensen called. “We have more questions to answer.” When he finally drew command over the crowd, he turned to the girl on the right. “Hey, we ran into you at the border, didn’t we?”

The girl nervously chuckled, flabbergasted that he would remember.

“Oh, that’s my friend.” Casey pointed.

You were standing obviously next to flight, and based on the girl’s response, she must have been freeze.

Finally, she regained her composure and stumbled out of the question. “My question is for Jensen, and I’m a little shocked it hasn’t come up yet,” Jensen’s face dropped as she continued. “Since a lot of people saw you yesterday and the video of you kissing that girl has been circulating, I was wondering if you are officially off the market?”

Jared’s head whipped to Jensen. He held his microphone down as he hissed, “What kiss?”

Jensen gulped, realizing he had discussed it with Clif and his PR team but forgot to loop in Jared. Well, maybe purposefully forgot so as not to relive the humiliation. The crowd was so silent you could hear the air conditioning humming. Only the pounding of your heart was louder.

The lights seemed to grow brighter as the seconds ticked by. He raced through what his team had suggested and how he should respond. He breathed into the microphone, then paused as if halting a thought before it even started.

“It’s complicated,” Was all he said.

Jensen gave Jared a pleading look for aid.

Jared breathed in deeply, thinking he was going to save the situation. “I know every heart in this room just broke but don’t worry, everyone needs a good rebound, and Jensen was due for one, give it a few weeks.”

“No.” Jensen stopped him. “No, that’s not what this is at all. I…” His voice cracked, and he paused again. He was exhausted from being careful with his words, hiding shit, and painting a face that would create appeal. And so he decided to let it all go. He picked a loose thread in his jeans as he confessed to the world. “A few months ago, I met someone. And I was a complete ass, but she gave me a second chance anyways. She’s not just a rebound from Elena. She’s kind, and funny, and a smart ass, but most of all, she is real. And she sees me not as Jensen Ackles, but just as…”

“Dean Winchester?” Jared grumbled.

A few fans yelped, but most stayed respectful.

Jensen’s jaw tightened. “She sees me as I am.” He huffed. “I like her. Like, like her.” He said as if he was in middle school, and there was a collective aw in response from the audience. “I saw a future with her.”

“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Jared piped in.

“Calm down,” He snipped back. “Not wedding bells, two kids, a dog, and a white picket fence. Not yet, anyway. Just taking it a few months at a time. Having someone other than you to confide in, to care for and be cared for in return, someone I can laugh and cry with, someone to share adventures with, I don’t know…” He sighed, defeated, getting away from himself, feeling like he wasn’t making sense. He turned to Jared, “It’s not like you aren’t my best friend, but you have Gen. You have someone you can go home to, someone you can talk to when I’m annoying the hell out of you, someone you can be vulnerable with and don’t have to act around.”

Jared sighed.

“That doesn’t sound complicated.” The shy voice peeped up.

Jensen smiled mournfully, addressing the fan again. “The thing is, she doesn’t feel the same. I got friend-zoned. Hard. Which is okay. It is completely her right. And I mean, I’m a lot to deal with, so I get it. So it’s complicated because we have to figure out if we can stay friends now that I screwed us over with that kiss half of you witnessed.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It took a second for you to process it all.

“This is utter bullshit.” You gasped, Casey taking it all in, though you had completely tuned out the rest of the world as if you were talking directly to him. “Friend-zoned, how did I friend-zone you? Maybe, and here’s a thought: if you had the ability to confess your feelings to me with as much ease as to hundreds of people, I could have told you I felt the same. But you just kissed me, and I panicked because I didn’t know what you wanted, and I thought I wanted more than you. Because I do see you as you are, but I acknowledge that you are still Jensen Ackles, and I’m still a crazy little fan that shouldn’t even know you in the first place. It’s not either, or, asshat; it can be both. I’ve been waiting for your lead this whole time. And now that I’m here, you are telling everyone it’s over before we even had a chance. Fuck!”

Although it was a rageful whisper, Casey heard everything and ferociously typed away on her phone.

Before Jared tried again to regain control of the situation, Casey’s friend jumped back on the mic. “Y/N says that if Jensen had confessed his feelings to her in the first place with as much ease as he can in front of thousands of fans, she wouldn’t have accidentally friend-zoned him.”

Jensen stood abruptly. “Y/N’s here?”

Panic rose again, seeing heads turn, looking for an imposter in the crowd.

The girl continued. “She says she was waiting for him to decide if he wanted to take the relationship to the next level, probably because she’s just a fan like us, and well, fuck, he’s Jensen Ackles. And I’m looking at her right now, and she is head over heels. Well, okay, she’s a little furious, but if Jensen wants her to have his babies, she would totally have his babies. Girl, we have to help her lock that man down…”

Again, silence in the room.

“What did you do?” Your eyes were wide.

Casey kept typing, ignoring your panic. “Trust me.”

You felt eyes on you and slid down the wall in mortal dread.

“Sorry,” The friend at the mic said. “Those were texts from my friend. I probably shouldn’t have read every single one.”

Crickets.

“Y/N’s here?” Jensen asked again.

“Yeah,” The girl looked through the crowd and pointed. Thankfully, it redirected some of the gaze to the back. “She must be sitting with my friend over there somewhere.”

Jared stood, but Jensen waved him away. “How do I know it’s really Y/N, and you're not making this up?” He asked skeptically.

Casey looked down at you as you were hiding your face between your palms. She nudged you with her foot.

The girl’s voice sounded throughout the ballroom. “I spy something yellow, clouds or mountains, the nasty-ass ball pit, Neil Diamond, or Bate’s Motel; any one of those should do.”

Jensen snickered and shook his head back and forth. “God dammit, Y/N. Do you want to try and make this work? Be more than friends?” He was still searching the crowd but couldn’t find you.

“Sign an NDA,” Jared sarcastically commented, believing Jensen’s previous analysis of your commitment to privacy was shockingly misguided.

“She says you can ask her face-to-face on a proper date.” Some of the crowd chuckled; others held a sadness that the window of his singleness was closing.

“I didn’t say that.” You snipped at Casey.

“We can’t make you seem too eager. Not after that baby comment.” She retorted.

Jensen chuckled again. “How does ten tonight sound? You pick the place.”

From a distance, he could see the door in the back crack open, light flooding the darkness momentarily, and he knew it was you. A small smirk escaped his lips.

The friend at the microphone continued to telephone Casey’s messages. “She left, I think, 'cause I embarrassed her and exaggerated certain details. But if I didn’t completely mortify her, I say it’s safe to change your relationship status.”

From the main lobby, you could hear the cheers and applause. This was not how you expected the day to go, especially almost getting arrested and working things out with Jensen over a panel. There was the sound of heavy footsteps and keys jingling as Clif rounded a corner.

“You keep making my job more and more interesting.” He jokingly scolded. “Come on,” He gestured with a nod of his head. “Let’s get you out of here before the panel ends, and people put two-and-two together.”

You stepped in line. “Let me make the record clear that Jensen was the one to kiss me and could have been more tactful in answering that question. I will only take the blame for momentarily losing it and breaking a few convention policies that may or may not be criminal offenses. I don’t know how this stuff works.”

He turned to look back at you and wiggled his eyebrows as if keeping you privy to a secret. “Something tells me I’m going to have to keep an eye on you.”

“Not when you should have both eyes on Jensen.” You teased back.

He laughed as you continued down the hall, and he parted a black curtain for you. “Oh, I like you.”

He led you to the holding room. It was nearly as messy as a frat house after a championship victory. Bottles of whiskey lined a TV stand, jackets and sweatshirts were strewn about, devices of all kinds were plugged into outlets, and piles of eaten and unopened food sat everywhere. You found a clear spot on the couch, and exhaustion finally hit you. Exhaustion from traveling non-stop, to restless nights, to hiking earlier this morning, to internally debating everything that was happening. You leaned your head back and shut your eyes.

The temporary relief was short-lived as the click of the door opening jolted you from the micro-nap. You stood up as Jensen and Jared entered the room. They looked equally exhausted but somehow maintained their brightness and energy. Jensen’s face glowed upon seeing you.

“Y/N!” Jensen exclaimed.

“Hi.” You greeted sheepishly.

He bounded over to you and took your cheeks in his hands, pressing his lips against yours. Jared went for another round of whiskey.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He pulled away and looked you over. “What the hell happened?”

You didn’t know where to begin. “I met a park ranger.” You said, accompanied by something between a laugh and a huff.

Jensen took in your scrapped-up leg, and his face grew stern. “Are you okay? We should get a doctor to come look you over.”

“I’m fine,” You promised. “The ranger did a thorough examination and knocked some sense into me. I should be back to normal in a couple of days.”

“Was he cute?” He asked.

You grinned. “Very.”

He pinched his lips together in a smile. “Well, then I better up the antics for our date tonight and really try and impress you.”

“Oh my god,” You giggled. “I never said any of that!” He gave you a questioning glance. “To be fair, not most of it.”

“So, no babies then?” He teased, and your cheeks turned ten shades darker. “Hey Jared, it’s time I officially introduce you; this is Y/N. Y/N, Jared.”

“Pleasure,” Jared stated coldly.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” You offered.

“Hey, we should order some food before autographs.” Jared bypassed you and spoke directly to Jensen.

“Yeah,” Jensen agreed. “I’m starving. You want anything?” He asked you.

You shook your head no. “What I need is a shower and clean clothes.”

Jensen smiled and dug through his wallet, fetching out a key card. “Room 912. If you need anything, text Clif. I’ll send you his number.” He handed it to you. “See you later tonight? Then maybe we will have the chance to talk about all this.”

“Yeah.” You bit your lip, accepting the key and trying not to get ahead by wondering if you would be sharing a room tonight.

Starting a relationship with him required a plan, including expectations and boundaries. As much as you wanted to rush into things, taking it slow was for the best. Waiting for him to finish autographs would give you time to make a list and develop some questions on what a relationship with him would entail beyond the normal stuff. This wouldn’t be as easy as it seemed, but you trusted he would be there to guide you. Before parting, he placed another peck on your lips, leaving you craving more.

Part 8

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