#i hate drawing flannels

[simonhateslore]

Frantically scribbling this out because I felt like it. For my CalTex fans out there <3

[thatwildwolfart]

I have been semi officially bullied by @buggachat

and I only got half of them.... too tired can't hold a pen anymore

[chocostrwberry]

[soap-is-an-artist]

so i went crazy and did this in about 4 hours. got possessed by the spirit of southern vampire man Samuel Collins and decided my life could not continue unless i drew him That Instant. so here yall go

[1skullwallet1]

RANDAL.

Qualitys a bit shit, and so is that godforsaken flannel, sorry.

[wtftaylr]

babe wake up i have 37 gold bars and a long fucking story,

[justablah56]

oh drawing flannel my beloathed :[

[siriuslylantsov]

save a horse

pairing: joel miller x reader

description: joel puts on his old cowboy getup and it gives you an idea.

tags: MDNI! smut, porn w/o plot, no outbreak au, established relationship, age gap, fem!reader, unprotected piv, riding, thigh riding, dirty talk (kinda?), nipple stuff (bcs i think joel miller is a boob man), praise kink kinda, little domestic.

a/n: my first joel miller smut! because i've been reading an ungodly amount, i can't stop thinking about him...

wc: 2.2k

“oh my god,” your voice comes out stunned as you walk in, kicking the door shut behind you.

a cowboy. sitting on your couch. well, joel dressed as a cowboy on your couch. 

he stands up with a grin, a little shy. “found this in my storage. from some years ago, can't believe it still fits me.”

flannel and jeans, old and a little faded–the jeans fit more snuggly against his thighs compared to his normal ones that you can't help but gawk. he's dressed the same way as always but this time there's a hat on his head and a belt around his hips adorned with a flashy buckle. his boots click lightly on the floor as he makes his way over to you, your eyes dart down to them.

“woulda wore the chaps too but that felt like overkill,” he says, dropping his hands to your waist. “d’ya like it?”

do you like it? you stare up at him a bit incredulous, at a loss for words as you check him out slowly. when you meet his gaze again, the shadow of his hat darkens the top of his face, yet you can still see the way his eyes glisten hopefully.

“yeah baby,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss his jaw, his beard scratching your lips slightly.

his grin widens and he pulls you closer, “good.”

“you did this for me?” 

“well, yeah. thought it’d be fun.”

“fun how?” you tease, slipping your fingers into his belt loops and tugging them.

“hate it when you work blue,” he grumbles, his small smirk telling you otherwise.

“no you don't,” you counter with a knowing smile. your lips part as if you're going to say something but they quickly shut.

joel eyes you curiously, eyebrows furrowed trying to figure you out, “spill.”

you hesitate for a moment, chewing the inside of your cheek before speaking.

“i've always wanted to ride a cowboy.”

his head cocks to the side, eyebrows raised, amused. “oh yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe, nodding before jutting your head toward the couch. “sit please.”

you stand between his spread legs as he sits. leaning back, he lazily lifts a hand to unbutton your jeans, popping it off with ease as if he's done it a hundred times before–he has. when he pulls them down, you take your shirt off, leaving you in your underwear. 

“what's that thing people say? save a horse, ride a cowboy?” you ask and joel stares at you shamelessly, eyes dragging down and back up, utterly enticed.

“‘s a song by um- big ‘n rich,” he murmurs distractedly as he hones in on the little bow on your bra, right in the middle. you pinch the tip of his hat and lift it off his head, placing it on top of yours instead. fingers snake itself through his soft hair and guide his head back so he can look at you.

“hi,” your voice comes out quiet, coy. you smile down sweetly at him and you find him mirroring it. “hi darlin’.”

your gaze trails down his body again, stopping at his thighs. it's obscene how good they look in his old jeans, he's obviously filled into them well. the fabric stretches tight over his limbs, hugging them perfectly. what if you just-

with a finger in the waistband of your panties you pull them down in one swift motion, moving your body to hover over his right thigh, now in between your legs.

he groans something pained when he realises what you're about to do, hands flying back up to your waist to urge you down and body scooting forward so it's easier. you gasp when you lower yourself, legs parted just right that your clit brushes against the fabric of his jeans upon contact. 

fuck.

the patch of wet on the denim comes as a surprise when you draw your hips back, you didn't realise you were that wet. you rock your hips again, experimentally, and the friction is debilitating. you’d fall over if joel's hands weren’t keeping you steady.

speaking of them, he begins to guide you back and forth, and your eyes snap back to him in alarm. he gives you an encouraging nod, keep going. you have to hear it from him and he knows that. 

“cmon, baby. want you to feel good,” he spurs while nodding again, pushing down to apply more pressure, your mouth falls open in a gasp. but you take his words in tow and keep going. 

maybe it's a little pathetic how you rut against his leg, little whines escaping your parted lips, but he doesn't seem to mind. he's more than okay watching you like this as he rubs circles into your hip bone. 

“joel, i can't-” you sob, legs beginning to ache from the way you were perched. it feels so good but you’re quickly regretting how you chose to go about this, half sat and calves straining from the weight. you pout, lips trembling, and he looks absolutely wrecked by this.

what you hadn't realised was that every so often your knee pushed into his crotch, he was being stimulated as much as you. the hard-on he's sporting pushes against the confines of his jeans, he’d gladly come untouched if he didn’t want to be inside you as badly as he did. 

“yeah, you can, baby,” he grits through his teeth, “gimme this one, want you t’come first.”

his fingers start tweaking your nipple under your bra, and god, he starts flexing his thigh. he hopes the added incentive will help push you over the edge. to his delight, the oh so familiar feeling starts to build embarrassingly fast in the pit of your stomach. 

your head falls back in a high, baring your neck to him. this in turn causes the hat to slowly slip off your head, he smiles and tucks it back on, repeating the motion of his thigh, bouncing ever so slightly.

“oh fuck. fuck. fuck-” you finish with a whine, body collasping into itself. joel reaches out to hold you to him as your hips stutter. his head dips to your neck, kissing the skin softly as you come down. 

“there ya go. did so good for me, angel,” he speaks into your skin.

you get off his thigh and slump onto the couch with a groan, ignoring the startlingly dark patch you leave on his jeans. you're catching your breath when you nudge him playfully with your elbow, he's equally leaned back, head tipped to the side, looking at you with awe in his eyes.

“i think your bad joints are contagious, old man.”

this makes him scoff. you take the hat off, placing it on his lap before bringing both knees to your chest and squeezing to relieve some of the tension, they really did ache. to this, he laughs and drops his head to your shoulder.

“what? i'm serious, they hurt,” you defend, albeit a little petulantly.

“but you came?”

“yes,” you respond, dragging the word out in exaggeration.

“and ya felt good?”

“yes, miller,” you grumble, nosing the hair of his that tickled your face.

“i don't see any problem in a little hurt, s’what i go through every time,” he mutters quietly.

“every time, huh?”

you feel him nod dutifully and you chuckle. his age usually made itself known after sex–either by complaining about his hips or his knees cracking after a taxing session of eating you out, not that he minded.

he lifts his head and shifts, leaning in. “so when ya gonna ride this cowboy?”

impatient, but he had been waiting.

you look down to his crotch, still painfully hard, and the corners of your mouth pull down in faux sympathy.

“poor baby,” you coo, taunting although he knows you’re teasing. “want me to fuck you?”

his eyes meet yours in searing eye contact, deadpan, but the way his eyes crinkle at the corners betray him, he’s trying not to smile. with a curt dip of his chin, he nods, yes. 

and who are you to deny him?

you nudge him to lean back again and put the damn hat back on his head. god, he looks sexy. 

you settle on taking his pants off, leaving them and the belt pooled around his feet. and when you unbutton his shirt, you stop him from taking it off completely–liking how his skin peeked down the middle. you settle on his lap, legs bracketing his thighs. you kiss him, sweet and gentle, head tilted more than usual because of the hat. his hands drift up your back to the clasp of your bra, quickly unfastening it and letting it fall. you slip your hand under his boxers and palm him, you like the weight of him your hands.

“baby-” he drawls. “please.”

“i know, i know.”

you pull him out of his boxers and rise to your knees, positioning yourself accordingly. you swipe the tip through your folds a few times, relishing in the groan it earns you before pushing in, tantalisingly slow. 

you brace yourself on his shoulders, it's always a stretch with joel. when he's bottomed out, you let out a deep long winded sigh. you stay like that for a moment, eyes closed. the angle is maddening and the way your weight settles on top of him drives him crazy.

you tentatively rise and sink back down slowly. fuck. you do it again and again. joel shoots you a proud grin, his hands back at your waist to help you. a breathy moan escapes you when the tip of him drags against your g-spot on the ascent .

“attagirl. there she is," joel mumbles, always keen on your sounds. “feels good, huh?”

“mhm, feels- so good, joel,” you sigh, rocking back and forth now.

“i bet,” he responds with a grunt, “can feel you squeezin’ around me.”

you whimper at that, back arching and effectively pushing your tits closer to his face. he tries to lean closer but the hat stops him, hitting your sternum.

“stupid fuckin’ hat,” he grumbles, tossing it away. it flies somewhere beside the coffee table and you laugh, ducking down to kiss him as he continues making incoherent annoyed noises. a hat is not going to deny him what he wants.

he hums low against your lips, trailing his kisses down to your neck. he nips at your skin, placing a peck to your collarbone before reaching his destination. his lips close around your nipple, hand securing itself between your shoulders to hold you firm against his mouth. 

“oh fuck,” you breathe. you look down to find him already looking back up at you and the sight is depraved, downright filthy. 

you card a hand through his greying hair and tighten, speeding up the motion of your hips. his free hand tweaks the neglected nipple and he is everywhere. you can’t handle it. a weak grunt sounds from you and he knows.

“joel please-” you cut yourself off with a broken moan as he begins to suck, pinching the sensitive bud between his teeth. he switches over to the other one and repeats, leaving you a whining mess in his lap.

“s'okay, baby. i got you,” he coos, lifting his head up to kiss you again. he pulls your body closer, holding you to his chest, bracing you. because before you know it his hips jump to meet yours, fucking up into you. 

he swallows every lewd sound you make, responding with a quick snap of his hips. “always take me so well, pretty girl. like you're made for this cock, huh?”

“mhm, i love it,” you slur.

he grins, breath growing heavier as his peak nears. he recognises the expression on your face instantly, eyebrows pinched together and eyes fighting to be closed, he knows you're in the same boat and he’ll be damned if he doesn't get you to cum first.

“you close, angel?” he whispers, forehead pressed to yours. when you nod, he hums sympathetically, fucking you harder. his hips slap against yours incessantly and you let out a muffled cry, holding onto him for dear life. 

“that’s it, take it,” he encourages as he feels your walls clamp down. “cum for me, baby.”

your nails leave crescent shaped imprints on his shoulder, back, anywhere you can hold onto as you tip over the edge, keening loudly, it borders on a scream. 

his orgasm quickly follows as his hips stutter, spilling into you with a shudder and a groan. he lazily fucks into you a few more times, riding out the aftershocks before stilling.

the two of you sit there, breathless, skin sticking to each other . his head dips and falls onto your chest as he hugs you to his body. his breath comes out in soft puffs against your skin, warm. 

“that was...,” you mumble, heart finally slowing down.

he chuckles, dry and low that it makes you shiver. “yeah.”

“joel?”

he lifts his head up, eyes soft and admiring when he looks at you. he hums in acknowledgment.

“wear the chaps next time.”

he laughs again, something heartier as he takes in your face, deadly serious. he kisses your chin, “yes ma’am.”

reblogs and replies are appreciated :) | m.list

[capseisen]

Petra's Ranch [she/her for animals, he/him for Human] ,, May 2021

[happy74827]

Chaos Theory

[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When Mike's crazy schedule finally aligns with one of the so-called "parental meetings" at Abby's school, he decides to see what it's all about. Little did he know he'd come to seriously regret that.

WC: 2,590

Category: Slight Fluff

I failed an exam today, so I wrote this to cheer myself up. I still feel pretty crappy, but this was really fun to write lol.

Also if you see any grammar mistakes, no you didn’t.

『••✎••』

When it came to Abby’s school, Mike was at a disadvantage. He couldn’t go to any of the parental meetings, not because he didn’t want to, but because he was constantly doing something work-related during the time those meetings were scheduled.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t keeping an eye on her grades and school attendance. It just meant he couldn't be there for the day-to-day things. Abby was a good kid, though; she never gave him trouble about the things he missed, and she did a pretty good job of keeping her grades up and attending all her classes.

Her teacher, you, was also very understanding of his schedule and position. He wasn’t sure how many teachers would have been as patient with him as you were. It was part of the reason he had grown fond of you, though it had been a gradual process that happened mostly unbeknownst to him.

At the beginning of the year, he had only been concerned about getting Abby acclimated to her new school. She was a quiet kid, stuck to her drawings, and it was even hard for him to get her to open up sometimes. Runs in the family, apparently. But, somehow, you were able to break down the wall that had been erected around her. Abby still didn't talk all that much, but she would always come back from school with a smile on her face. So, Mike was happy.

Then, like all good things, it came crashing down like a house of cards when his work schedule finally aligned with one of the “upcoming” meetings. This one was apparently a very big deal, and it was strongly implied to show up.

He hated these things despite never going to any before, but he just knew it would be filled with nosey people asking questions about his life. His sister. His “wife.”

God, he was already annoyed. The only saving grace was that it was the last meeting before the holiday break, so once it was over, he would be free for a while. Free to do what, exactly? Work, most likely, but a guy can dream.

The bell rang, signifying the end of the school day and the start of his personal nightmare. The door to the classroom was opened by one of the school's assistants, who held a clipboard in hand and waited for the “parents” to enter the room. He had arrived earlier than the scheduled time so he could speak to the assistant and find out what the meeting would entail, and already he knew it was a bad idea coming in here.

The woman was a nosy old biddy that was all too eager to learn the details of his and Abby's life.

He kept his answers short and clipped, but it did nothing to dissuade the woman. It got worse when he entered the classroom and saw the number of other parents who had shown up. He felt like an animal in a zoo; all the eyes followed his movements as he went to sit closest to the wall and away from the rest of the people.

The surrounding parents looked as though they lived in the next town over. They were clean-cut, hair styled perfectly, and clothes ironed. It was like they were trying to be a picture-perfect family.

He looked down at his own attire. His work boots were scuffed and dusty. His pants had a few grass stains from a recent job. His flannel shirt was buttoned wrong, and the sleeves were pushed up. Even his hair was a mess; he had tried to style it but didn't have much success, so he eventually gave up. The only thing going for him was that he had taken a shower before he left, so at least he didn't smell like sweat and grime.

As the meeting began, Mike had to try his best not to fall asleep. It was the typical teacher stuff. How the kids were doing. What the curriculum was for the following year. What their goals were. Blah, blah, blah.

Mike didn't care. He trusted you, and he knew his little sister was smart. She didn't need someone holding her hand and telling her what she was doing right or wrong. He knew this because he did that, and she didn't need it.

What did interest him, though, was the fact you kept looking his way. You didn't look at the others, and when you spoke, it was usually aimed toward them, but he saw the way you would look at him from the corner of your eye. He figured you were probably in shock that he actually showed up this time.

The meeting dragged on, and he was ready to leave. There were a few moments he had caught himself nodding off as he needed sleep, and this wasn't helping him. But then, like everything else in his life, the universe decided it was his time to suffer.

There was one woman who had sat at the front of the classroom. She wore her hair pulled back tight in a bun, her shirt was pressed, and her face was set in a permanent frown. He hated that lady; she reminded him of his good-for-nothing aunt who only wanted to criticize every choice he made.

The lady was also the mother of the most spoiled, brattiest child in the whole class. That damned kid had made it her life mission to torment Abby. He had come home more than once with her complaining about it, and when Mike had brought it up with you, you had told him that you had spoken with the parent.

That, of course, had done nothing. The child was an annoying pest, and he hated the way she treated Abby, but his sister had learned early on to deal with the bullying on her own. It didn't stop him from wanting to throttle the little shit, though.

The woman, the one who had started all his problems, took the opportunity to start a round of questioning. The first few were innocuous until they weren't.

"You seem to be a very patient woman." The woman had spoken to you, but her eyes were locked on him. "Is it a skill that was learned?"

The question itself was innocent enough, but the inflection and tone she used were meant to cut. He wasn't stupid. He knew she was alluding to something. It was always something, but he had to force himself not to say anything; the woman was a viper, and if he said something, she would attack without hesitation.

"I think anyone can be patient," You had responded diplomatically. "It's just a matter of the situation."

The woman didn't look happy with your answer, but she didn't pursue the line of questioning.

"Well, I couldn’t help but notice a certain someone who decided to finally drop in."

There it was. That was the opening.

Mike could tell you didn’t like the turn of conversation, and you were clearly trying to divert it elsewhere. It was no use, though. Mike could see the glint in the woman's eye as she prepared for the kill. She had a smile on her face, but her eyes were cold. "I was starting to think that Mr. Schmidt had abandoned his responsibilities. Wouldn’t be the first time someone in that family did such a thing."

He couldn’t help but have visions of his accidental mall incident from last year flash in his mind when he processed what the woman had said. He could easily hop over the desk and deck her right in the mouth. He had the muscle for it, and it was very tempting.

However, he would not.

If there was anything Mike had learned over the years, it was how to control his emotions, even if the situation was dire. The last time he had lost his cool, he ended up getting fired, but that was a long time ago… okay, not really, but the point was, he wouldn't make the same mistake again.

He wouldn't give the woman the satisfaction.

Mike leaned forward in his chair, arms crossed over his knees, and looked the woman straight in the eyes. "That's funny. I could say the same thing about your kid."

"Excuse me?!" She hissed, and she seemed offended. Good. He hoped she was offended.

"Okay, okay." You intervened, hands up as if to placate the two of them. "Let's keep this civil, okay? The last thing we want is to be kicked out of the school for brawling. That's not beneficial for any of us." You then looked back at the woman. "Let's not bring personal matters into this."

"Personal matters?" The woman was appalled at your statement, and her voice was so loud in the quiet room. He could tell many of the other parents were looking at them now, and he felt the weight of their gazes on him. It only made his anger spike. "That monkey of his tried to bully mine for three months now, and she's never done anything."

Monkey? Monkey?! Oh, he was going to kill her. It was one thing to talk shit about him; he was used to that, but Abby? No. Absolutely not. His little sister was the best damn thing to come into his life. He wouldn't have it.

But before he could say something, before he could even get out of the chair, you had done something he would never have thought you would. You got up and went to your desk, then you returned, holding a paper. You held it up for all the parents to see.

"This is a drawing my students did a few weeks ago," you started, and he was surprised at the level of calmness you were exuding. "The assignment was for them to draw the thing they loved the most."

Hearing those words, Mike had a feeling what was coming next, but he wasn't going to say anything. It would be like tempting fate. Still, he watched as you grabbed one of the papers, and then you turned it around so he could see it. Abby had done the drawing, and it was not only of him but of everyone else in her class as well. She had even drawn you standing near her with a kind smile. It was the picture she had brought home from that field trip months ago. It was a nice picture. Really nice. He liked it, and he knew Abby was proud of it.

"I made copies of every drawing so the parents could see them," You continued as you held out the picture for everyone to see. "So, tell me, would a bully do this?"

Your voice had a bite to it now, and he could finally see just how angry you were. He was surprised at how much control you were exerting. The other parents, however, were shocked at your sudden display of emotion. Even the woman, who had looked as though she was ready to take you on herself, looked like a deer caught in headlights. She didn't know what to say. No one said anything. Even he was shocked by your sudden outburst.

You were normally such a mellow person. Understanding, even. Always ready to listen, always ready to understand. You were the one who was there to help when something went wrong. You were the person who everyone turned to. You were… nice. You were a kind person. You were—you were just like Abby. That's all he saw in you now. You were just like his sister. You were just like her. You had that same determination and that same look of knowing something that others didn't, but there was also something else. You were a fighter, too. It was just something he hadn't noticed until this very moment.

You weren't the nice teacher everyone thought you were. No, you were more. You were the person he knew his sister was becoming.

"And to answer your question from before," you continued, ignoring the growing outrage from the other parent. "I'm a very patient woman because I understand that not everyone has the same opportunities. Some of us have a responsibility to provide the basic necessities for our family, which can often lead to not being able to attend these types of meetings.”

You looked directly at the woman when you spoke the last part, and you did not look happy. At all. In fact, he was pretty sure that was a little vein on the side of your head.

"Not everyone can be at their best every moment. Not everyone is at their best all the time. Not everyone has the privilege to complain about things not going their way. So, while I am a very patient woman, I will not have any of this derogatory about my students and their guardians." The calmness in your voice was gone, and your voice was rising, and you had started pacing back and forth behind your desk as you spoke. "Because if there is one thing that I cannot stand, it's someone who criticizes others just to make themselves feel better."

You went on to speak about your experience with the woman's daughter, explaining that a meeting needed to be called upon to address the issues with the child. You didn't stop there, though. No, you also spoke about how she should have addressed the situation when it was first brought up and how that, in turn, impacted the rest of your class. You had even pointed out some of the other parent's children who had done the same thing.

Suddenly, this meeting wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

It took a while, but once you finished your little speech, everyone had finally gotten over their shock and embarrassment. The meeting, as such, continued without incident, and by the time it was all said and done, Mike was ready to go home.

As he stood from his seat and made his way to the door, however, you stopped him. You had your bag in your hand and your coat on as well.

"I just wanted to—"

"You don't need to apologize," Mike cut you off. He didn't want an apology. He knew you weren't at fault here. In fact, he was surprised you took the time even to defend him. That didn't happen often. "I was expecting something like that to happen, but I appreciate you speaking up for Abby. She's got a good teacher."

He thought you would be embarrassed or even annoyed, but instead, your face lit up, and your cheeks turned red. "Oh, uh, well, it's my job. It was what I needed to do."

"Maybe, but you did it anyway. So, I appreciate it." He looked around the room and noticed everyone else had left. Even the nosy assistant had disappeared. He didn't know what to say, so he settled with saying the first thing that came to mind. "And hey, maybe next time you can tell them this is why I don't go to these meetings."

Your laugh was light, and you had a smile on your face. He liked the sound of it. He liked seeing it, too. He also liked the way it lit up your eyes. They had a beautiful color. So bright, so shiny. It was almost hypnotic.

"I'll consider it."

Mike wasn't sure how, but somehow, he knew you were telling the truth.

[luimagines]

Would it be alright to request the chain in modern human readers world, having chosen to go with them after the quest?

I'd love to see them sitting through a uni lecture or going to a normal everyday cafe - or whatever you think would be interesting for them

OHhhh!! I like this idea!! :D

Masterlist

Part one will include Time, Twilight and Warrior.

Content under the cut!

Time

"Ready to go?" You asked him, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

Time sat on the couch, leg crossed over the other as he sipped a cup of coffee. He was dressed in a black turtle neck with darkwash blue jeans. You hated to admit it, (no, you didn't) but he looked good in modern clothes. He was busy trying to figure out the phone you got him two weeks ago. He marveled at the tech but argued that it was a strain to look at for too long.

You didn't blame him. You showed him how to turn on the eye protection filter and how to lower the brightness. But you imagined that he was having a difficult time adjusting his one eye to the new information and light it was being exposed to.

Still, he didn't give up.

It was admirable. It made you smile how willing he was to learn everything just to fit in with your home.

Never let it be said that Link wasn't a champion of hitting the ground running. He was willing to bite down on any challenge big or small.

"Almost," He said softly, finishing his coffee with more speed than you would have recommended.

"Working on something?" You walked over, leaning down to get a good look at what he was reading.

He turned off the phone quickly and shoved it in his pocket. He smirked and spun you around so fast toward the front door that you didn't have the chance to form a sentence. "I have found those stores you mentioned from the crystal screen," He says directly into your ear. "I was merely perusing their stock, that's all."

"Oh no, who showed you Faron?" You groan.

He laughs.

"Link, I'm serious. That is dangerous territory."

"Nothing," He shrugs. "I haven't figured out where the cart is."

"Oh thank the three-"

"Don't look into it though."

"Oh?"

"Nope," He says with a shake of his head. "I'm not telling. Let's go to this movie thing you mentioned. What was it again?"

You raise an eyebrow, not at all impressed with his attempts to distract you. You might need to check your bank account later just in case. "Storytelling. Moving pictures that we can see and hear."

"I'm excited. Let's go!"

Twilight

"Tell me again, how this goes?" Twilight looked at you nervously.

"Link, you're a bonafide country boy. This shouldn't scare you." You tease, putting your hands on your hips. "You've been shot out of canons, turned into a wolf and fought evil incarnate itself. You blew up a bomb shop! This is where you draw the line?"

"This is different, Darlin'."

You took the moment to admire his new outfit. You put in a pair of dark wash Levi's, a red flannel shirt, cowboys boots and a hat to match. But you had taken the hat off and instead set it aside.

He wouldn't need it for what you had planned.

"Look," You smiled at him, the teas sitting on the tip of your tongue. "All you have to do is stay in one place. It'll take care of the rest."

"So how do you stop it?"

"You don't."

Twilight sighed and gave you a long-suffering look. You only smiled wider at him in response. Pushing up the tractor tire with as much strength you could muster, you hit the side of it. "Hop in."

"This is insane." Twilight groaned and maneuvered to get inside the tire. "Something tells me this isn't safe!"

"Where's your sense of adventure?" You accuse, slowly rolling it down the hill you've place it on. "Ready?"

"No."

"Let's go!" You cheered and pushed him away.

As expected the tire began to roll down the hill, gaining speed as it descended. You laughed, chasing it down as it began to bounce. There was a possibility that it would go straight into the lake that was at the bottom but you were sure Twilight was fine.

Twilight was screaming.

Still, that was normal for first time goers.

He had wanted to know what the farmers did for fun. You couldn't resist the temptation to include in the chaos.

Eventually, the tire did bounce directly into the lake. It stopped the rubber in its tracks and you jumped in after it. Within moments, Twilight popped his head over the side, climbing over the tire with a large smile on his face.

"Let's do that again!"

Warrior

"...woah..." Warrior breathed.

You had decided to take him to a LARP'ing scene in the local park.Not because you thought that he would be interested in it, but because you thought that he would lose his mind at seeing something a lot like the time he was from.

It wasn't exactly the renaissance fair. It was far too low budget to come close to that. But it was close enough that it counted.

He would never admit it, too stubborn and headstrong in keeping his decisions, but you could see that he was homesick. Warrior had decided to leave behind everything he knew because he never could bring himself to say goodbye to you.

Knowing that it was one of the most difficult decisions anyone could make, you've tried to make his transition as smooth as possible.

It wasn't remotely smooth.

But again, it was the thought that counted right?

All around you were people who decided to dress centuries out of style. You joined them to fit in the spirit.

Did Warrior know this? No.

You grinned and skipped over to him. He was dressed in his hero gear, just as you requested. You looped your arm in his and kissed his cheek. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off of you. You half expected his eyes to fully bulge out of his head. "Like it? I managed to find enough people to throw this all together."

"...For me?" He whispered, looking around with wet eyes.

"They don't know that." You gestured to the people. "They're just here to have fun and pretend to be someone else. If they do things that are still a little... off, forgive them, won't you? After all they're still very much this time, not yours."

"It looks so real." Warrior gaped. "It's like I stepped back..."

"Home?" You offered quietly, letting his arm go to give him some space to take it all in.

"....yeah..."

Most of it was actually painted carboard that would later be donated to the local theater. But you thought it would be a bit cruel to burst his bubble by mentioning that.

"Hey!" Someone random guy passed you both. "You look awesome dude! Is that real chainmail?"

Warrior quickly wiped his face, giving the passerby his most charming smile. "Why, yes, of course! Had to bring some authenticity to this place!"

"That's sick! Did you make it yourself?"

"Uh.... no. I ordered it."

You snorted, knowing the lie for what it was. "Come on! I heard they're about to start a bon fire! They're going to roast cucco and mutton and someone brought kombucha to purchase."

"I don't know what that is." Warrior smile a bit warily. Said bubble was already on the verge of being popped.

"Fermented mushroom drink. No one is going to want to drink mead, love."

"....That's fair. Let me try it at least. It can't be as bad."

"That's the spirit."

Part 2 TBA

[r3starttt]

ELLIE’S CLOSET !!!

I picture ellie as loser lesbian who gets easily influenced by social media and its lesbian stereotypes, but still has her own thing. Like, specific accessories or colors or ways to convince her clothes. Also, chooses being comfortable more than anything and tries to let anyone know she likes girls (very gen z loser lesbian basically)

HC’S

Her clothes are from very specific colors, blue, green, brown, black and white. Ofc she has other colors but it’s like, one shirt or a pair of shoes she probably bought just because, without actually thinking if she’ll use it or not. Everything she buys, buys it oversized. Not too much, but never too tight, hates that type of clothes.

Shoes: Has like three pairs of shoes and that’s a lot. Ofc her black converse, probably a pair of white ones or brown even, and crocs, definitely crocs.

Basics: t- shirts, tank tops, jeans, hoodies | shorts, flannel shirts, (jean) jackets

Her most used combo: black converse, jeans, oversized t-shirt on a very neutral color and a hoodie, most times a more colorful hoodie or with a design to not look so simple.

Accessories: Don’t think she wears too much accessories, I picture her as someone with sensory issues lollll so I think she’d rather just wear small things, probably weird jewelry or very simple. Also, always forgets to put it on or take it off :)

Very specific

Decorates everything with drawings or pins and if she ever has to, she will confect her clothes on her own with the very little knowledge she has.

Pajamas | comfort clothes: Definitely wears gray shorts and a white tank top for pajamas or stay at home fit (has many gray pants and tank tops she doesn’t really wear outside)

she likes weird designs, nothing too extreme or obvious because she hates being the center of attention but, definitely buys lots of clothes online with animals, cute drawings, stuff like that on it.

>tlou closet

[ididdedurmom]

More evil head cannons

I have silly ideas about the gang after the event of the story, everyone lives, except Bob

PONY:

Has a thousand yard stare when he zones out

Has the loudest, most disgusting, mucus filled cough ever

Actually really good at drawing

Has drawn every member of the gang at least twice

Loves physical touch, he leans on his friends when their sitting next to him.

Actually screams during horror movies, like loud genuine screams

Loves play fighting with Darry, like full on wrestling

Steve taught him how to drive

He either walks like a ghost or stomps, there is no in between

He can play one song on the guitar, and that’s it

His legs are super strong, so his kicks hurt really bad

He would be better at track, but his smoking habits hold him back

He feels jealous of Soda and Darry because they had more time with their parents

He and Darry have matching reading glasses

SODA:

He says “I’m just a girl” anytime he gets in trouble

He has used his pretty privilege to get out of being arrested multiple times

Despite how handsome he knows he is, he still feels super insecure about his looks

He steals from the DX station constantly

He and Steve spend hours gossiping about their customers once both of their shifts are over

A dog bit him when he was a kid, now he’s deathly afraid of them

He loves physical affection, hugging him is the best way to cheer him up

Absolute candy addict

Candy is the #1 item he steals from the DX

He broke his dominant hand once, and now his handwriting is permanently ruined

He reads insanely slow and monotone when he reads out loud

He either sleeps like a rock, or wakes up from the slightest sound, there is no in between

He lives in his flannel, that thing hasn’t been washed in literal years

He suffers from middle child syndrome, he knows his brothers love him, but they don’t pay enough attention to him

DARRY:

He hates his jobs, he knows he has to go but he can’t stand them

All of his coworkers are old and they treat him like a child (which he’s kind of okay with in a way)

He loves watching cartoons but he feels like he’d be wasting his time

He sneezes like a dad

He wakes up at 4 am and works out immediately

Loves compliments and words of affection

Doing favors is his love language

He has the whitest legs ever, he’s all tan on the top and snow white on the bottom

His tan ends where his pants start

Small bits of his hair are grey, he doesn’t know

He has a fear of abandonment

He is insanely flexible for a man of his size, like he can touch the floor standing up with ease

He hit a dog with his car once and cried for 2 hours straight

He loves cuddling on the couch with his brothers, it helps him relax

He despises Curly Shepard, he’s civil with Tim, but he HATES Curly

When he comes home from his ski trips with his old friends, he actually looks his age

A woman once assumed he was Pony’s father, and it made him die inside a little

He can’t stand Mother and Fathers Day

He was mad at Steve when he found out he taught Pony how to drive

TWO-BIT:

He and Dally bond by harassing women

He has a box full of things he’s stolen

His slight alcoholism stems from his father

He let’s his sister paint his nails, and he shows them off proudly

He gets his nails painted before rumbles

He watches soap operas with his mother every night

He can play the trumpet

He has never purchased a pack of cigarettes, only stolen

He listens to metal

When he passes Johnny’s house, he has to actively stop himself from walking in and beating Johnny’s parents half to death, especially his father

Its not that he doesn’t want a job, I mean he doesn’t, it’s that he thinks he’d only mess up whenever they had him do

He constantly forgets to brush his teeth

Pop and beer are the only things he drinks, he doesn’t touch water

He religiously wears Mickey Mouse merch, you will never catch him in a plain shirt

Baby Pony and him got along really well, he was kinda like Pony’s goofy cousin

Two-Bit and Darry have been friends since they were little kids

Two has no plans for his future, and it weighs on him

He broke both of his elbows once

His teachers have kinda given up on him, they just treat him like a bother instead of a student

STEVE:

He messes up Pony’s hair every chance he gets

He uses the most hair grease out of everyone

He has had the same comb for 3 years

He constantly smells like oil

The underside of his nails are always black, no matter how much he washes his hands

He and Soda have matching scars from a shared failed attempt to climb a barb wired fence

He is terrified of the police

He and Soda make your mom jokes at each other, despite neither of them having mothers

His voice is scarily deep when he wakes up

He and Two-Bit have an inside joke no one in the gang understands

He, Soda, and Two-Bit all have matching stick and poke tattoos

He hates his father, and by extension the fathers of Johnny and Two-Bit

He and Dally don’t hang out much, but when they do they are absolute menaces

Dally and him steal cars and hub caps together

He is genuinely upset by the size of his nose

JOHNNY:

He’s dyslexic

His handwriting is atrocious

His best subject is math

He and the gang all picked out stickers to put on his crutches

He loves sleeping around his friends

His hands are rough

He can’t stand the smell of beer, unless it’s one of the gang

He and Curly hate each other for literally no reason

Pony has slowly been teaching him to read better

No matter how much grease he puts in his hair, it won’t stay back

He hates going out in public because people always look at him funny

He hates looking at his burn scars

He, Dally, and Ponyboy watch sunsets together

He either sleeps at the Cutis’s house, Two-Bit’s house, Steve’s (very rarely), or Dallas’s place.

He’s not allowed to sleep in the lot anymore

He has tons of freckles, you just can’t see them against his skin

He loves sleeping outside when he wants to

He never wants children, he’s to scared he’ll become his father

His pain tolerance is so high that sometimes he won’t even notice when he gets injured

He likes how defensive Dallas is of him, makes him feel confident

He smokes marijuana with Dally sometimes, he’s super anxious when they do though because he doesn’t want to get arrested

DALLY:

He will not talk about his feelings

The cops forced him to go to therapy, it didn’t fix anything

He is amazing at lying

The police know him by name

He hasn’t told the gang much about the past other than where he came from and that he doesn’t talk to his folks

Darry nicknamed him “Rat”

He actually feels bad when Darry yells at him

He gets sun burns very quickly

He has his own personal stench

He doesn’t want Johnny to end up like him

He cried for 3 hours straight when he found out Johnny was still alive, it is his most embarrassing moment

He chugs drinks insanely fast

He can’t read very well

He needs glasses but he thinks he’d look like a wimp if he had any

Even though he knows he could have an asthma attack from coughing to hard, he still doesn’t carry his inhaler

He was happy when he thought he was going to die

Then he woke up and had an epiphany about life, it didn’t do to much, but now he knows death isn’t the only option

He proudly shows off the burn marks on his arm

He loves pushing Johnny around in his wheelchair

He listens to outlaw music and Frank Sinatra

He loves horror movies

He toned down his bad behavior once he got out of the hospital, he’s still a dick though

That’s it or whatever. I hope you like them, I’m sorry if some of them don’t make sense. I’m just so silly. I apologize for my horrible grammar lol. Feel free to tell me some of your head cannons!! :D

[holylulusworld]

A birthday dream (4)

Summary: It's your birthday and your harem gets bigger...

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Soldier Boy x Reader, Jensen Ackles x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Russell Shaw x Reader

Side-Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader (same reader)

Warnings: language, implied smut, mentions of smut (oral/fingering/anal), fangirling, RPF

Catch up here: Another dream (3)

Dream a little dream… masterlist

“Shit…oh fuck,” you moan loud enough to draw attention toward your bedroom. Ben, Dean, and Jensen silently sneak toward the door, huffing as you are going at it with Beau again. “Harder…yes…right there.”

“She’s fucking that cowboy cop again,” Dean grumbles. He’s not a fan of your new addition.

While you, Sam, and Beau try to find a way to send Beau back into his world, Dean and Ben try to stay in your world, with you.

“Calm down,” Jensen shrugs. “It’s a phase. He’s new, and she didn’t ride his dick as often as mine.”

“Shut up!” Dean and Ben grunt in unison. “We hate sharing our woman. If you like sharing her with another dick, it’s your problem, not ours.”

Dean and Ben flinch when the headboard of your bed slams against the wall. Your moans and your lover’s groans grow louder with every thrust of his cock.

“She’s close, huh?” Beau asks while casually walking inside the living room with Sam. “Who’s the lucky one this time?”

Jensen, Dean, and Ben turn around like in slow motion to look at Beau and Sam. They gape at the two men and furrow their brows. 

“What?” Sam asks. 

“What are you doing out here?” Dean cocks his head to look Beau up and down. “Shouldn’t you be in there and press orgasm after orgasm out of Y/N?”

“I’d like that, but Sam asked me to help him with the books.” Beau looks at the books in his hands. “I licked her pussy this morning, though.”

Dean’s features darken. He squares his jaw and huffs. “I made her cum in the showers this morning. The first of many birthday gifts for our girl.”

“I fingered her until she squired while actor boy ruined her cute ass,” Ben smirks at Dean. They are still at each other’s throats most of the time. 

“Uh—I got cake and flowers for her,” Sam awkwardly looks at the cake and flowers in his hands. “A thank you for helping me leave the apartment.”

“You mean you fucked,” Soldier Boy cackles, but his smirk vanishes when you cry out a name they never heard before. Well, not all of them. Jensen ducks his head and averts Dean and Ben’s gaze.

“Wait…if Beau and Sam are here too…” Dean turns his head to look at Jensen, “Who’s in there fucking our girl?”

“Ahem…you see,” Jensen clears his throat. “I—I had this guest role in a series and… I’m afraid Y/N watched the episode last night and…things got out of hand…”

“You are telling me that you played another dude and now she’s fucking him?” Ben glares at Jensen. “We told you to inform us if you take a new role, Ackles.”

“Fuck, yes…Russell!” You cry out your newest lover’s name. “There…harder…fuck. You’re so thick.”

“I’m thick too,” Ben is done listening. He kicks the door open only to watch Russell slip out of your well-fucked cunt. “You!” He points at Russell. “Out of the room.” 

“Dude, relax. She wanted to have some fun,” Russell smirks, looking so much like Soldier Boy in that moment. You whimper, already imagining getting double-teamed by them. “How can I deny her?”

Ben ignores Russell completely. He squares his jaw and exhales sharply. “And you!” He points at you. “Down on your knees, mouth open. You will spend your birthday filled with cock. Preferable with mine.”

“Hey, she’s not yours only!” Dean storms into the room, already tugging at his flannel. “I will join the party.”

“Me too!” Jensen stumbles inside the room. 

“Oh, no!” Ben shakes his head. “You are the reason for the new guy.” He grins at Jensen. “You won’t get any for the time being.”

“Can I join?” Beau pokes his head inside the room. “Maybe just…watch or take care of her after you ruined her.”

“Mr. Cuddles is back. Great,” Dean sarcastically says. “Fine, get in here. You can have her after we are done punishing our slutty girl for dreaming of another man.”

You fake a sob. “But…but…Jensen wanted me to watch the episode. I tried so hard to focus on Colter, but Russell was right there. He looked so good, and I got…horny.”

“Look at our whore,” Ben taunts. “She can never have enough cock, huh?”

“So…if you are all done…” Russell walks back inside the room, a beer in his hands. He's still stark-naked but doesn't really care. He leans in the doorframe and sips his beer. “Can I have another round?”

“No!” All men grunt in unison. 

“Newbies wait for their turn,” Sam clarifies. “You can help me with the books…” He whispers. “Wait for your chance. She gets needy after a nap…”

“Sammy,” you pout. “That’s our secret!”

Dean quirks a brow. “Ya know, Sammy. For a man pretending to not wanting to fuck Y/N you are sniffing around her pussy all the time.”

“Dean! Don’t be so… crude!”

“Sammy,” you purr. “We both know you can get very crude when we are alone.” You smirk at the former hunter. “How about you all come inside, close the door and we celebrate my birthday the best way possible…”

“Fuck…yes…” They all say in unison. All men will be a lot to handle, but you will be damned if you don’t take the chance and have a piece of all of them.

It’s your birthday after all…

Part 5

Tags in reblog.

[inlovewithdob]

Again?

(I kinda hate this also first time writing smut so not sure if face riding was the best idea but I hope it’s still enjoyable to read but stiles makes everything better)

18+ mdi, not proofread

It had started off as a regular friday night movie-marathon sleepover, with “Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith” selected as the evenings choice (for the hundredth time). Your right cheek smooshed against his chest facing the block of screen in front of the awkward shaped couch holding up your cuddling bodies. Until the scene where anakin wakes up all sweaty and shirtless from a bad dream sparked something in you and your hand began to absentmindedly draw “innocent”little shapes along his torso dragging lower and lower. Right before your sneaky little fingers made its way beneath his flannel pants, his slender fingers encircled your wrist preventing them from going any further. “And what do you think you’re doing?” Stiles questioned, amused by your actions.

“Nothing” you chirped, to quickly to hide your sheepish tone.

“Huh that’s funny, cause it looked like you were getting a bit handsy there” he quipped with a raised brow.

“Whatever” you mumbled, stubbornly burying your face back in his chest to not give him the satisfaction of seeing your flustered expression

The curve of his pointer finger hooked underneath your chin to face up at him again “oh come don’t be embarrassed. I know what shirtless anakin does to you, but I’m not jealous since I know you find me hotter and I get to reap all the delicious benefits” His finger was quick to block your lips attack to his. Grinning when his ears caught your mumbled “jerk”

Your pouted lips part to start your whine but then get immediately smashed with his. He must’ve have been waiting for this since the movie started, because he almost can’t bear to wait a single second longer before his tongue pierces its way through your mouth’s opening, deeply exploring its surroundings and groaning at the lingering taste of peach rings still coating your taste buds. The air in your lungs gets momentarily knocked out with how tight and quickly his veined protruding arms lock around your waist. With your hands instinctively following the curve of his chest towards the nape of his neck slipping the brown fluffs between your fingers. Pulling with a slight -but aggressive- tug, emitting a delicious almost-whimper that found its way up his throat. That was your tipping point, physically feeling the pool of arousal leaking into your panties.

“Sti…need more-please” your wines cutting out with every roll of your aching core against his rapidly growing bulge. Desperate for that delicious taste of friction.

“Sit on my face baby” your expression visibly changed at his reply.

That’s not something you’ve guys ever even talked about it. Let alone- done. You weren’t sure if his words were an accident. Or his horniness got the best of him (wow shocker). I mean…you didn’t hate the idea. He was the first to initiate going down on you most of the time. Devouring your overstimulated cunt until you had to literally pull away his latched mouth by a fistful of his hair. Blocking out his whines of protests, ‘taste so good’ ���more baby please’. Needless to say you both thoroughly enjoyed the activity. So I mean face sitting could only be better. But of course, you still had your doubts.

“What?”

“You heard me, I want you to sit on my face” his golden orbs darkening by the second, boring into yours.

“How much porn have you been watching?” You tease, in an attempt to lighten the mood

“None, I already told you you’re the only porn I need.” He pauses to readjust the needy hard-on straining the tight material of his jeans “just want your pillowy thighs squeezing my eyes out. Want you to use me, ride my face. Need it”

“But sti” your quick to protest. “What if I choke you? Or suffocate you? Oh god, or if I like I don’t know, drown you in my come? Is that even possible? Whatever. Oh my god and what if I?- AH”

Your ramble comes to halt with the insert of his finger inside your dripping heat erupting a moan from deep within. You were to busy word vomiting to realize he was sneakily pulling your attire to the side. A whine soon following when he pulled away.

“Baby” he murmurs, “drowning in your come, buried in between your thighs, literally sounds like the perfect way to die”

“I just don’t wanna hurt you” you mumbled, chin drooping towards your chest no longer holding eye contact.

His features softened “The only way you would hurt me is if you don’t sit on my face” he spoke gently, “and if it makes you feel any better, I’ll tap your thigh three times if it’s to much” (spoiler alert. He doesn’t)

Your plump lips flash a small smile, grateful he was making sure you were comfortable and showing that he wants it as well.

As soon as you nodded, his hands were quick to rid you of those flowy pajama shorts and panties that were no good anymore from how soaked through they were(another to add to the collection). Already guiding your hips to straddle above his overly eager face.

“Are you sure about this?” Not even trying to hide the uncertainty in your voice

“Couldn’t be anymore sure, now please baby, sit on my face, need it” you could feel the bruising indents his palms were already starting to leave on your hips from how tight his grip is to control himself from just plopping you on his mouth and never letting you back up.

His encouraging words sparked enough confidence to start slowly lowering yourself onto his awaiting mouth. Your core slowly makes its descent down but abruptly stopped

“Stiles I don’t know about thi- AH” his patience snapped. And took matters into his own hands, and sunk you down himself. Not even letting you adjust to the new feeling of the upturn of his nose lodged in your pelvis or the tip of his tongue rapidly assaulting your dripping cunt, selfishly lapping up his favorite flavor.

“Fuck this is amazing” he groans, circling the tip of his nose around your sensitive nub.

It’s all to much. The sensations intensifying by the second. Unforgivingly lapping at your folds ignoring your pleads of overstimulation. His sweet little praises flowing from his mouth are complete dichotomy to the other sinful things it’s doing. The thin sheet of sweat beading its way down your flushed body. The sounds of pure bliss tumbling past your parted lips only encouraging him to redouble his ministrations. Not even hiding or embarrassed in any way on how his hands rummage for any skin-on-skin contact they can locate. Whether it’s tweaking your pebby teats, cupping the curve of your ass to stimulate a grinding movement against his overjoyed face. Or just down right palming and stroking himself.

“So clo-OH-se- need more-AH” you wale, your hips gyrating against his nose’s peak on their own accord.

“Shh baby, I got you” he murmurs gently as if he isn’t completely devouring your sex. Neither of you both were ever good at lasting long, leading to several breaks between rounds. Picking up on your slight tenses and chocked gasps. And upgrading to an ungodly pace. It only took one more dive of his skilled muscle before gushes of white-hot heat ascended through your quivering body. The pleasure band located in your lower tummy snapping emitting a loud cry from both of your lips. The feeling of your tangy arousal drenching his face paired with the sound of his name tumbling from your flushed lips in whiney moans didn’t help with the painful hard on he’s struggling with currently. God he will never get over how good you look when you come.

The movements of his tongue doesn’t falter, only slows down enough to drag out your blissful high for as long as possible. From the way he looks underneath you, it would seem like he’s the one who just got the life sucked out of him. But he’s a giver and finds comfort in your happiness (and also got to eat you out and play with your breasts which is always a win). Once your panting smooths into a more normal breathing pace, he carefully lifts you up from the waist and lays you down against the couch while he gets up, and whispers a “be right back”. But you barely notice, already sleepily getting situated on the plush cushions searching for comfort and warmth. After a bit he returns and a smile grows on his face at the sight of you curled up with his pillow to inpatient for him to bring back a blanket. But he still gently lays it on top you. And takes it upon himself to clean up the mess of crumbs your junk food made and pressed ‘off’ on the tv remote.

Once the living room looked ‘good enough’ or clean enough to not receive a scolding by his dad. He found comfort in laying next to your unconscious dazed out body, sandwiching you between his warmth and the couch sealed off with a fluffy blanket on top of you both. Of course he somehow managed to trip and let out an embarrassingly high pitched yelp, awaking you. “Sti?”

“Shh shh go back to sleep” he murmured, quick to let you get back to your much needed slumber and wrapping his arm around your tank top clad waist impossibly closer.

“Love’ou” was all you could manage to respond in your drowsy condition

“I love you to” he punctuated with a soft kiss to your forehead. But his gentle demeanor morphed into a more cheeky mischievous one.

“Soooo, when can we do that again?”

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Steve Rogers

Summary: Steve and Newbie go on their first date!

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

Previous

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Steve can't remember the last time he felt so nervous. Well, no, the last time he was this nervous it was when he was trying to ask you out. But you said yes and now he's the most nervous he's ever been for a date!

He wishes he could grow out of the awkwardness he'd lived for so many years. That he could finally be the cool, confident person everyone thought he was until he started talking. As many muscles as he worked on, it couldn't stop him from being a dork. Especially around a beautiful woman like you.

He sighs fondly, remembering when you'd accidentally run into him, giving him a hug to keep from falling. For weeks afterwards he was kicking himself for not doing something smooth or giving you a cool pickup line or something. Instead he just hugged you back and asked if you were okay. He even stuttered as he spoke! The fact that you agreed to a date was nothing short of a miracle as far as he was concerned.

He'd gone over the itinerary with Bucky enough times that he didn't even have to say anything before Bucky was assuring him it was a good first date plan. Dinner at a diner you'd mentioned liking followed by one of those wine and painting classes. Food first so the wine wouldn't sour your stomach. And painting instead of sketching to avoid complaints that he was trying to prove his superiority.

He still winces when he thinks of Peggy being so angry that he was good at drawing. It was a bullet dodged, yes, but he still hates that she thought he was trying to be better than her. But painting wasn't his strong suit, so hopefully this would be better.

At the same time you're going through your closet, getting advice from Spitfire and Bubbles about what to wear since you don't trust your own opinion. You've been pining after Steve since your first day in the office and he actually asked you out! You don't want him to regret doing so.

"I think you should go casual," Spitfire proposes. "He sees you in your work clothes all the time, let him see what you normally look like outside of work."

"That's a good idea!" Bubbles encourages. "Especially if he's taking you to some more casual places like you said."

"But I wanna be like, sexy or something," you complain. "My casual clothes are just so plain."

"Just wear some cherry red lipstick," Bubbles comments. "He seems the type to go weak for that."

Spitfire nods in agreement. "Plus, if he's as interested as he seems, he's gonna find you sexy regardless of what you're wearing."

"That's true," Bubbles concurs.

You sigh in exasperation. "Okay, okay. I get what you're saying. But I still wanna look...good? I don't want him embarrassed to be seen with me!"

"If he even hints that he is, you let us know and we'll knock him straight," Spitfire retorts, making you smile and giggle. You're very grateful to have friends willing to go to bat for you.

You finally settle on a pair of dark jeans and a pastel long-sleeved t-shirt with your lucky flannel jacket. You feel comfortable and Spitfire and Bubbles are quick to assure that you look good.

Steve is waiting in his car outside your apartment building. He wasn't sure you'd be okay with his motorcycle and figured the car would be safer. As soon as you step outside, he's out of the car and opening the passenger door for you. You smile at the gesture and Steve beams at you.

When your close enough he can take in how you look, he's rendered speechless. You always look pretty when you're wearing your work clothes but now? You look absolutely stunning and he can't believe he's so lucky to get to take you on a date. He stumbles over his words a few times before finally saying, "you look so beautiful!"

Heat rushes to your face and you giggle, making him blush. "You really think so?"

"Absolutely," he breathes. You swear you've never felt prettier in your life.

"Thank you," you shyly reply. "You're looking very handsome, too." His blush deepens and he rubs a hand on the back of his head as he mumbles his thanks.

You take your spot in the passenger seat and Steve, all smiles, gets into the driver seat, feeling like he's walking on air.

The drive to the diner is mainly spent with each of you trying to say something but accidentally interrupting each other, followed by awkward giggling.

"This is a really nice car," you finally manage to get out.

"Oh, thanks," he blushes. "It's old, but definitely reliable. And way more comfortable than the Beetle I used to have."

"You used to have a Beetle? How did you fit?" You slap your hand over your mouth in embarrassment as you think about how rude your question could be.

Thankfully he laughs. "It was when I was a lot smaller. I used to be really scrawny."

"Really?"

"Had a lot of health problems growing up," he shrugs. You give a consolatory "aww" and he continues. "Finally got the medical help I needed and now I'm..." he gestures to his physique.

"I'm so glad you got your health in order. I can't imagine how frustrating it would be."

"Admittedly, I took that frustration out on others. Bullies, specifically, just so you know. They kept poking fun at me, so I kept fighting back."

"That's so brave of you! I'd have run away and cried." Like I do at work, you think.

"Bucky definitely wishes that was the case for me," Steve chuckles. "The number of times he had to come to my rescue..."

You chuckle at that. "So you've been friends for quite some time?"

"Yeah. He's also the one that, once my health issues were under control, helped me figure out a workout so I could be less scrawny."

"That's so good of him."

"He did make me promise that I'd stop fighting so much but I still get so riled up around bullies."

You place a hand on his arm, "well thank you for not punching my boss, bully that she is."

"Yeah, well..." he stutters for a bit, his face turning redder. "If she ever gets to be too much, you just let me know, okay? I'm good friends with HR."

"Thank you, Steve."

As you get more comfortable around each other the date becomes filled with laughter and bad jokes. You leave the diner with full bellies and big smiles.

At the class, you haven't even sipped at your first glass of wine but you can't stop giggling with Steve. The teacher for the class tells everyone there's no pressure to be perfect so don't worry about any mistakes. Steve leans into your ear and whispers, "just brush it off." You have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing out loud but he feels the way you're shaking with laughter and his eyes sparkle when he looks at you.

"Don't get too confident," you whisper back. "I'm easel-y impressed." Now it's Steve's turn to bite back a laugh while visibly shaking.

"You know why you should be careful around artists?" Steve whispers. "They're pretty sketchy."

"I still can't believe you're real," you whisper back, "and not just a pigment of my imagination."

Neither of you wants to disrupt the class but you just can't help how good you're feeling. How comfortable you both are with each other. How much more relaxed the atmosphere of the date has gotten. And you can't even blame the wine since you've barely finished a single glass.

The only time Steve freezes up is when you snuggle up to him, putting your head on his shoulder while you think about what color to pick next. He swears his heart stopped in that moment but he never wanted it to end.

The only moment that topped that was when he dropped you off back at your apartment. He walked you up to your building, like the gentleman he is, and you actually kissed him goodnight. It wasn't a deep kiss, but it was still full of affection and warmth and Steve wanted to drop to his knees and thank you. You giggle at the lipstick left on his lips and try to rub it away but he stops you, his smile never dropping.

"Can we do this again?" he pleads.

You give a shy nod, "next weekend?"

"Next weekend," he confirms.

Next

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