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pretty-circa006 · 8 months ago

Note

I guess your bio clearly states you write for Negan, but it doesn't explicitly state you write only for Negan. So I'm thinking I should just ask. Are you open to writing a dadsbsf!Rick and dadsbsf!Negan x reader fic, they have a rivalry and are always trying to one up eachother to get in the readers good graces, but little do they know you already want them (both) and you get them (both). Ik this isn't something you normally write and it's totally fine with multiple partners. But you're clearly a great writer and I just had to ask. It's totally fine you don't take this request or even ignore it. But if you were to write could do something with an age gap and a minx reader and mean Rick and Negan but only during steamy, but otherwise they sprinkle their lives on you.(Maybe this could be series or something it doesn't have to be oneshot and you could your time exploring the idea, idk why I'm so passionate about this lol)

Thanks, for hearing me out, believe me ik this a tall order. Again it's totally fine if you ignore this!!!

P.s idk why I added the photos I'm sorry 😭😭😭😭(them trying to mark their territory trying to make the other back off of you???)

dadsbsf! Negan x F! Reader x dadsbsf! Rick

summary Negan and Rick are over at your house, joining your dad for a game of poker. tags gambling, mentions of smoking and alcohol consumption, age gap (reader is college aged and Rick and Negan are kinda old...like late 40s early 50s?)

wc 2.3k

note i really liked this request and i hope i interpreted it correctly, if not, i sincerely apologize! just fyi, i plan on making this multiple parts, which is why there's no smut....YET! :P

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

She loves summer. It's more so what comes with it, rather than the season itself. Being back home from college and finally having her own space in her own room and her own bathroom with her own shower. Most of all, she loves the late nights in her backyard, swimming in the pool beneath the bright stars, cicadas buzzing and crickets chirping in the background.

Tonight's one of those nights. The dark, starry, cloudless sky accompanies her she floats on her back around the pool, enjoying the peace of the summer night. All she's missing is a nice midnight snack. The warm, humid nighttime air feels good against her wet skin as she climbs out the pool. She forgot to bring a towel with her when she came out earlier, but that doesn't matter since she's getting right back in anyway. Barefoot, she saunters across the soft grass to the sliding glass door that leads into her house.

"Honey, where's your towel? You're dripping all over the floor," her dad complains as soon as she steps inside. Feeling the freezing air conditioning on her wet body also has her wishing she brought a towel.

"Sorry, I forgot, but I..." She trails off, finally noticing that her dad isn't alone and that he's at the dining room table with his best friends, Rick and Negan, in the middle of a game of poker.

"Hi, Rick...Negan," she awkwardly greets, folding her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling naked in front of the two.

"I'll be right back, gonna go grab her a towel," her dad explains, excusing himself from the table.

"Late night swim?" Negan teases while shamelessly eyeing the freezing girl's half-naked body. Her face grows hot as she feels his hazel eyes undressing what little clothing she has on.

"Why don' you join us for a game?" Rick suggests with a pat to the seat beside him.

"But I dunno how to play." Despite this, she takes the seat anyway. Rick pulls the chair closer to him until he can't anymore.

"I'ma teach ya how." This earns a scoff from Negan.

"Doll, you don't want this fuckin' prick teachin' ya how to play poker."

"This comin' from the idiot who lost five hundred dollars last time we played," Rick fires back. Negan rolls his eyes and flips him the bird.

She bursts into a fit of giggles at their rivalry. "I think I'll stick with Rick. I don't have much money to lose."

Her dad finally comes back into the room, towel in hand. He tosses it at her and it lands over her head like a ghost costume.

"Hey!" she huffs as she fixes the towel properly around her shoulders. Her father just huffs a laugh at her plight.

"Rick's gonna teach me how to play poker," she tells her dad excitedly. He grimaces which earns a snicker from Negan.

"If ya want any chance at winnin', you'll have your ol' man to teach ya, but hey," he raises his hands in mock surrender before taking his seat.

“I’m stickin' with Rick.” Rick gives her a soft smile and places his large hand on her thigh. Shivers run down her spine, and she’s sure it’s not from the air conditioning.

“You can jus’ watch this game and we’ll deal you into the next.” She nods in agreement and leans over Rick’s shoulder to look at his cards -a three of clubs and a three of spades-, ignoring the water droplets dripping from her hair onto his shirt, but he doesn’t seem to mind either. She has no idea what’s going on since she joined in mid-game, but by the looks of everyone’s faces…she still can’t tell what’s going. Her father’s face is blank and Negan’s has an air of mischief to it, but then again, it almost always does. Rick looks calm as his eyes move from his cards to the three that lie in the table’s center.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” She whispers in his ear. He leans down to her level and explains to her that the three cards in the middle are the flop and that things are looking good for him. She nods and leans closer to get a better look. The three men all slide more chips into pile. Negan reveals another card next to the three, which Rick informs her is called the turn. They bet again and Negan reveals one last card - the river, Rick tells her- before they all reveal their hands.

“Two pair,” her dad dejectedly reveals.

“Three of a kind,” comes Negan’s reveal.

“Full house,” Rick calls out smugly as he takes the pile of chips

“See, I knew Rick was gonna win!” She cheers, causing the two other men to groan in annoyance. Rick squeezes her thigh, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Negan who’s glaring daggers at the blue eyed man.

“You playin’ this round, hon?” Her dad asks, shuffling the cards. She happily agrees and deals her in.

“Ya sure ya wanna stick with Rick? He was just fuckin’ lucky last round,” Negan bargains.

“Lucky and four hundred dollars richer! I’m stickin’ by him.” Rick flashes Negan the smuggest look ever before wrapping his arm around her, pulling her closer.

“Got my good luck charm right here.”

“See if you get so lucky this time ‘round,” her dad challenges as he deals out two cards to each player. She looks at her cards, still not fully sure on how to play. She slides in a chip alongside everyone else, which Rick explains is the ante. Her dad reveals the flop and she looks from it to her own cards, not knowing what plays she has, if any. She glances over at Rick who’s immersed in his own cards.

“Rick, what do I do?” She whispers.

“C’mere, I’ll help ya out,” he offers with a pat to his lap. She climbs onto his lap from her own chair, leaving her towel behind. Her dad doesn’t bat an eye. Rick is one of his best friends, basically a brother to him, and in turn like family. At least that’s the way he sees it, like a simple loving action between good family friends.

But Rick can hardly focus on either of their cards. Having her on his lap is distracting. Her plush ass sits directly on top of his crotch and he can feel himself getting hard as she shifts around to get comfortable. If she can feel it too, she doesn’t move away or say anything. He rests his chin on her shoulder as he looks at her cards -an eight of diamonds and an eight of hearts- his beard prickling against her soft skin.

“See that eight of spades on the table, you’re close to havin’ a four of a kind,” he whispers.

“Is that good?”

“Very.” Nobody’s looking, so he presses a quick kiss to her shoulder. She stifles a giggle at the ticklish sensation of his beard against her skin. They all bet again and the next card is revealed. She shifts around excitedly once she sees another eight on the table.

“Keep still, sweetheart,” Rick warns, growing harder in his pants. She doesn’t say anything, but Rick can see her shoulders shake with more stifled laughter. Everyone places another bet before the river is revealed and they all show their hands.

“Full house,” Negan says as he reveals his cards.

“Flush,” her dad reveals.

“Two pair,” Rick shows his hand.

“Four of a kind,” she apprehensively says, showing her own hand.

“Maybe she is some kinda goddamn good luck charm,” Negan grunts.

“Did I win?” She asks, noticing the proud but somehow simultaneously disappointed faces around the table.

“You did, sweetheart, good job!” Rick says, hugging her from his position behind her. She gets up and presses a quick kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to his lips before skipping into the kitchen.

“That was fun, but I’ma head back to the pool now.” Negan watches her struggle to reach a snack in one of the cabinets. She jumps a few times, her ass jiggling a bit each time she lands. He stands up and joins her in the kitchen, watching her pathetically try a few more times before standing behind her and effortlessly grabbing the bag of chips. He even opens it before handing them to her.

“T-thanks,” she says turning to face him and taking the bag. Her whole body feels like it’s on fire as she stares up at him. He’s standing so close to her, basically pinning her against the counter. His tongue glides across his bottom lip as he hungrily eyes her up and down, eyes lingering on her tits that her bikini top could hardly contain.

“You’re welcome.” She doesn’t know what to say or even if she should say anything. Her eyes wander down to his strong arms that are folded across his chest, his tattoos on full display. She bites her lip when her eyes graze over the slight bulge in his pants. She can’t tell if he’s hard or just big, but either way she desperately needs to take a dip in the pool to cool the heat building up inside of her.

“I’m gonna go back out now, bye!” She slips away from him and hurries out to the backyard before jumping into the pool.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆

She had about thirty minutes alone until she hears the sliding glass door open. Out comes Rick in nothing but his swimming trunks and a beer in hand. He doesn't seem to see her as he makes his way to the hot tub. He gets in, letting out a sigh of relief as he feels the hot water relaxing his muscles. He rests his arms around the ledge and tilts his head back, relaxing and the sight is delicious. She climbs out the pool and carefully steps into the hot water beside Rick.

"Hey darlin'," Rick greets once she's sitting beside him.

"What're you still doin' here? Isn't it past midnight?" she asks.

"Me 'n Negan wanted the hot tub for a bit, but your old man's done for the night."

"Oh. Okay." She's looking at Rick in a way he can't decipher. Her eyes hungrily trail across his body as she scoots closer and suddenly, she's in Rick's lap like before.

"I can still sit here, right?"

"Of course," he reassures, his hands resting on her thighs, fidgeting with the waistband of her bikini bottoms. He rests his chin on her shoulder, just relaxing and enjoying the feeling of her against him.

The sliding glass door opens again, a jarring interruption to their peace. She flinches, scared one of her parents were about to come out and see her and Rick in a compromising position, but Rick, seeing that it's only Negan, holds her tighter. He joins them in the hot tub with a beer in hand and cigar between his lips. In nothing but his swim trunks, his hairy chest and tattoos are on full display, taking all of her attention away from Rick. If looks could kill, Negan would have murdered Rick with his hazel colored death glare. The tension in the hot tub is so thick, it's almost suffocating. Negan being there somehow makes her feel guilty for being so close to Rick, but leaving his lap isn't something she wants to do either.

"Hey, Negan," she says in a weak attempt to relieve the tension and kill the awkward silence.

"Hey doll," he takes a drag from the cigar before blowing out the smoke, "congrats on winnin' your very first poker game."

"Thanks...couldn'ta done it without Rick, really." She subconsciously leans further into Rick and he presses a few scratchy kisses to her shoulder and the back of her neck. Negan rolls his eyes at both her and Rick.

"C'mere," he commands with a come hither motion. She swallows nervously, looking from man to man. Rick can feel that she wants to get up so he unravels his arms from her waist so she can, which she does, albeit apprehensively. Even though he didn't tell her to, she sits on Negan's lap, her cunt right atop his growing boner, the only barriers between them being his swim trunks and her bikini bottoms. His beard tickles the side of her face as he leans down to whisper in her ear.

Rick watches the two with an intense gaze, almost as if he was daring Negan to try something with his girl. Negan's arms are around her now as he whispers something in her ear. Rick is sure he's just talking shit but jealousy still twinges in his chest.

"Anything that asshole thinks he can teach ya, I can do it better," Negan whispers. Rick sees her giggling and she turns her head to whisper something back to him.

"Yeah? Then why'd ya lose both games earlier?" she teases. He lets out a laugh which catches Rick's attention. His blue eyes glare daggers at Negan who only spares him a smug glance.

"Didn't wanna embarrass poor Rick over here by beating his ass in front of ya," he says loud enough for Rick to hear. His voice returns to a whisper. "As for the other game...you just got pretty damn lucky."

"Mmhmm sure," she replies sarcastically with an eye roll. She stands up and wades her way to the hot tub's stairs.

"G'nite y'all," she wishes them as she exits the tub.

"Goin' to bed already? Night's just started?" Negan complains, already missing having her on his lap.

"It's almost three in the mornin'," Rick comments looking at his watch. "Night, sweetheart!"

"See you both at the barbecue tomorrow!" She blows them both a kiss before skipping off toward the house. She can feel their gazes boring into her, particularly her ass as she does so.

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choslut · 5 months ago

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˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ FWB. featuring a. hayakawa.

↻ just you, aki, and quarter ounce of fresh weed waiting to be smoked.

tags : friends with benefits, semi-hatefucking, dirty talk, banter, heavy petting, minor angst, drug misuse (weed) // wc. 0.9k

author’s note : although i've done some substances b4 idk anything about weed measurements... originally had reader and aki smokin on 5oz TT (enough for 500 blunts can u believe it...) thank u guys for sticking around for this one !! lots more to come i promiseeee :) as always notes n reblogs much appreciated <3

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

“this shit’s strong.” you take another puff of the lit joint before passing it back to AKI. “where’d you get it?”

“ask himeno,” he replies dryly. “she was the one who put me on.”

you hum satisfactorily, resting your head in aki’s lap and motioning for the joint again. you like afternoons like this, ones where there’s no immediate need to be at work, no sense of impending doom leaning over the two of you.

just you, him, and a quarter ounce of fresh weed waiting to be smoked.

makima would kill you.

in your drug-induced haze, you look up at your smoking partner. aki looks beautiful whilst high, jet black hair slightly mussed and framing his flushed features. the whites of his eyes are stained a deep crimson, and his pretty lashes seem lengthened by the way his eyelids droop heavily over his eyes.

you kinda wanna kiss him.

instead you sit up and sling your legs over his own, smiling dopily into his face before stroking his cheek. “when’s denji and power comin’ back?”

“not till this evening.” he pays you no mind. this is normal for a relationship like yours, not quite strangers but not dating either. you come over, you get high, you fuck, you leave.

friends with benefits.

aki starts to notice the way your hips slightly buck against his. he knows what you want, but it’s always funnier to make you beg for it, so instead of kissing you in his usual fashion, he reclines, one hand holding the joint whilst the other rests just above your ass. “you want somethin’?”

you groan. “you know what i want, aki. we do this all the time.”

he tilts his head. “yeah, but it’s always fun to switch things up a lil’.” he takes another hit before tapping the underside of your chin, motioning for you to open your mouth so he can hold the joint in between your lips. “you’re gonna have to work for it this time.”

“i hate you.” you might say that, but your body conveys the complete opposite, hips moving faster as you drag your hands down to the waistband of his joggers. aki loves acting nonchalant, but right now, he’s just as hard as you are high.

“do you hate that fact that you’re in my bed right now?”

“doesn’t change anything, jackass.”

this is what you do. it’s your brand. you and aki banter until the tension becomes absolutely unbearable, and then you fuck it out like a pair of rabbits in heat until you’ve had enough. he’s your stress relief, you’re his fucktoy, and together you make this twisted mess of a relationship that neither of you can decipher.

“you gonna fuck me or not? i hear kishibe’s givin’ it out for free these days.” you reach inside his sweats to trace the waistband of his boxers. “fuck, always wanted to know what it’s like to get fucked by an older guy.”

aki borderline growls. “i don’t share.”

you laugh in response. “grown up aki doesn’t wanna share his toys.” you lean in close to his lips, tip of your finger tracing his tip through the fabric of his boxers. “i’m not your doll, hayakawa.”

“yet you’re always creamin’ on my cock ‘n tellin’ me how good it feels.” he flips the two of you over. “ ‘oh aki, don’t stop!’ ‘right there, baby!’ you’re a fuckin’ liar.” to punctuate his sentence, he presses his hips into yours, and you can feel just how hard he is against your drenched panties under your—his shirt.

“that- hah- doesn’t mean shit ‘n you know it.”

in turn, aki raises his eyebrow. “it doesn’t? so why’re you so wet right now?” he pulls away, and the wet spot on his jogger caused by your arousal alone is almost embarrassing. “admit it. you like it when i slut you out.”

you scoff. “i’ll die before i ever admit that.”

tongue and teeth clash in a fight for dominance, the air becoming hazy with lust and smoke as you grind up against him, the still lit joint smoking away on the ashtray. aki’s hands are everywhere but nowhere, and when he finally pulls up your shirt to brush his fingers against your pebbled nipples, you whine audibly.

“that’s it,” he breathes, the corner of his lip quirking into a smile. “you know you love it, baby.”

“i- hnn- i don’t.” you do, and he knows it better than you do, but for the sake of stamping out his ego, you deny it.

you hope that in denying it, you can quell your blooming feelings for him too, but with the way he grinds against you and whispers sweet nothings in your ear, it steadily becomes a lie you’ll never accept.

you’re friends. you’re colleagues. you’re mentors. you and aki aren’t meant to be lovers, despite the way he touches you so passionately under the covers. it’s stress relief, it’s fucking, it’s calling each other names and making out and climaxing over and over in each other’s arms until one of you calls it quits.

and even when he’s above you, thrusting into your tight heat like a man possessed, you can’t help but doubt everything you’ve ever felt for him.

you don’t love him. well, you do. platonically. because you’re friends.

friends with benefits.

PREVIOUS : SHARING IS CARING ft. t. fushiguro + s. kong NEXT : THE COLOUR RED ft. yae miko

liked that? check out the WE’RE SO BACK main masterlist.

#chainsaw man #chainsaw man x reader #aki hayakawa #aki hayakawa x reader #chainsaw man smut #aki hayakawa smut

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sen-ya · 9 months ago

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Life After Info Post

[Click here to access the Life After Digital Comic Book]

Summary: Two years ago, a viral outbreak rose the dead. Considering how his life had gone up to this point, surgeon Trafalgar Law figured this might as well happen too. When a supply run into the nearby city gets intercepted by a seemingly reckless and impulsive former patient, the dependable routine Law had settled into in this new life shatters. He finds himself exposed — his body out in the infected landscape, his conscious clawing to define what he believes is right, his heart begrudgingly deciding to find a new home on his sleeve. Maybe there’s more than a virus roaming the new world that can bring a dead man back to life.

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, zombies/body horror (but lbr I am not good at making scary things look scary)

Relationships: Luffy x Law

Update Schedule: New page every Monday/Wednesday/Friday

Page Count: [37 posted | 55 drawn]

Latest Update: [7/21/24] WOWEE did I get myself carried away this morning. I just spent 5 hours organizing my comics and creating the digital comic book pages. I could have spent that time drawing or idk not doing what I do for my job, but I cannot be stopped. Anyway I blocked out 30 pages of this comic last week and they include the most intense action sequence I've ever done in my gotdang life. Wish me luck because I am nervous about tying down all my drawings lmao.

OLD UPDATES:

[6/29/24] HULLO! I'm doing so bad at keeping my masterposts updated lately I am sorry. All pages of life after are tagged life after if you're ever looking between masterpost updates! Also exciting update, I finally have figured out all the different plot points i'm gonna be hitting (yay!). I got hung up on something for awhile that made me not wanna work on this project, but I'm back at it. I think we'll end up with 6-7 parts! I have probably another 80-100 pages to draw lol. Also i got the app Magic Poser and it's AWESOME and I immediately used it to block out sets cuz MAN I hate backgrounds.

[6/10/24] HELLO. I'm sorry I've been shit at updating my masterposts lately. It's easiest to do from my computer, which I rarely use, and life has been happening. I also can't believe I bungled the queue and posted pg19 before pg18 i am very sorry 🤦 Eventually I'll have to turn this into an airtable base I'm sure, but until that day comes where I have like 100 pages of this comic we're stickin to the regular post lmao

[5/26/23] I got real caught up in doing summer of lawlu comics this week and this is the first week since the first week of April I haven't drawn new Life After pages and it feels weird 🙊

[5/19/24] More Luffy backstory comin' this week! :^)

[5/12/24] Updating now so get myself on schedule to update on Sundays like I had been with my other comic master post!

[5/8/24] Thank you to everyone who's liked/reblogged/comment on the first few pages!! It means the world to me that anyone's reading my silly little comics.

[4/28/24] HULLO. It’s happeninnng. I’ve spent the last few weeks working on this comic, and I gotta make this post so I can start queuing pages & link this in them! This is the most like….legit? Comic endeavor I’ve undertaken perhaps….ever. I’m very nervous about committing to how long it will need to be lol. This story is dear to my heart — zombie content is kind of my very favorite. I’ve always found it to be a great backdrop for exploring themes like grief, coping with change, community, and learning to live again. It’ll be a long haul but I hope you’ll ride it out with me!! Tomorrow I’ll be posting the first two pages. After that a page will post every Monday/Wednesday/Friday. As of this post I’ve completed over 20 pages so that I have a good lead on what’s posting and continuing to write, so I’m hopeful that’s a cadence I’ll be able to maintain. I’ll update this post weekly to include the most recent pages the way I do with my main comics master post. All pages will be tagged 'Life After' and I'll tag any pages with zombies in them with 'zombie' for blacklisting etc.

#my art #life after

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herofics · 1 year ago

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A Hangover

A/N: Just more of my good Geto AU stuff (Geto never went rogue, saved Mimiko and Nanako and stayed at Jujutsu High with Gojo and reader, and they started a relationship), these aren’t really in any particular order, and you can find the previous stuff in the “good geto au” tag. Idk what this is, but it was fun to write

“We really shouldn’t have let him drink so much” you said as you and Geto were helping Gojo up the stairs

"You know he’s a lightweight, and he had like two drinks” Geto said with an annoyed tone.

“We should’ve made him stick to mocktails” you groaned as Gojo leaned against you in his drunken state.

"What you two talkin about? I’m fiiiiiineeee” Gojo muttered, trying to stand without support, almost falling on his ass at the top of the stairs

“Alright, you’re almost in bed love” Geto said as Gojo leaned against the doorframe.

“(Naaaameeeeeee), I don’t wanna go to bed, Suguru’s bein a meanie” Gojo complained very loudly.

“Satoru, you have to, you’re way too drunk to do anything else” you said and brushed his hair off his face and kissed him on the cheek.

“You’re comin with me then” he smirked and started dragging you towards the bed.

You let him, since that was probably the only way you could get him to bed. Gojo fell face first onto the bed and curled up on top of the covers, still holding your hand.

“Come to bed with meeeeee” Gojo said with a sing-songy tone.

You sat down on the bed, and Gojo brought your hand to his face and kissed your knuckles.

Geto was just leaning against the door frame and watching the two of you. He had a gentle smile on his face as he looked at you and Gojo. You looked back at him with an amused expression and mouthed the word “lightweight” at him before rolling your eyes. Geto chuckled and motioned towards the stairs indicating that he was going downstairs. You nodded and whispered that you’d be there soon.

Gojo had fallen asleep, but he was still holding onto your hand. You tried to pull your hand away, but he tightened his grip and muttered something akin to “no, mine”. You brushed his hair away from his face again, and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

“Love you, get some rest” you whispered and stood up, leaving the room.

Geto was sitting on the couch, TV on, but the sound was very low.

“I’m never letting him drink again” you groaned as you collapsed next to Geto on the couch.

“Well thank god for mocktails, or we would’ve had to carry him all the way back” Geto shook his head.

“I guess him being lightweight brings some balance to him otherwise being like the most powerful person on earth or something” you joked.

“Yeah, that’s probably the reason” Geto rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

“He’s gonna be so hungover in the morning”

“So am I, I can feel it” Geto sighed, rubbing his right temple.

“We should probably go to sleep too, besides, if he notices there’s no one in the bed with him, Satoru’s gonna try to come down here and crack his head when he falls down the stairs”

“You’re probably right” Geto agreed.

“I’m gonna sleep in my room, you can take care of our drunk little prince”

“Fine”

“Goodnight, Suguru” you yawned and started making your way towards your room.

“Goodnight love” he smiled.

Geto climbed the stairs to the second story, and disappeared into the master bedroom as you closed the door to your room.

Gojo was spread out on the bed like a starfish, so Geto had to push him around a bit to fit on the bed comfortably. Gojo looked quite adorable when he was sleeping so peacefully. Geto and you had to pretty much drag him out to have some fun that night, but in the end he had a good time, and so did you and Geto of course.

Geto laid down next to Gojo and kissed him on the forehead, before closing his eyes and going to sleep.

You woke up in the morning to a delicious smell coming from the kitchen. You put on your slippers and dragged yourself to the kitchen.

“Good morning!” Gojo said as you appeared from behind the corner.

He looked all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, what the hell?

“How are you not hungover?” you asked, completely baffled as to how he was up before you and Geto.

“I’m the strongest, don’t you know? A little hangover won’t keep me down” Gojo grinned.

“But every time we’ve gone drinking before, you’ve been absolutely miserable the next morning, so why not now?”

“It’s a Christmas miracle” he joked.

“It’s not Christmas” you noted sarcastically.

“A Saturday miracle then?” he questioned.

“Sure, let’s go with that” you sighed.

“I think Suguru’s still asleep, but coffee is done already”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll stick to tea. You and Suguru can have the coffee, though you might not need any more caffeine” you noted as you filled the kettle with water and turned it on.

“Coffee sounds good right about now” Geto yawned as he came down the stairs, wearing just a pair of sweatpants, stretching his arms towards the ceiling.

“You hungover?” you asked Geto. “Because our lightweight partner here is just fine” you motioned at Gojo.

“You used RCT” Geto stated, more like a fact than a question.

“I don’t know why I haven’t done it before, it was such an obvious answer” Gojo smirked.

“That’s cheating, you should suffer with the two of us” you complained, motioning at yourself and Geto.

“Well you don’t look very hungover either” Geto said to you.

“I have a pretty nasty headache, but not much more” you said.

“So I’m worse off than both of you combined” Geto groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Come have some breakfast, you’ll feel better after” Gojo said, and set down a cup of coffee on the table.

Geto sat down and took a sip of the coffee, before leaning back against the chair with a deep exhale. Gojo set down a plate in front of him and another one in front of you. His cooking smelled delicious when you had woken up but now the smell of food was just making you nauseous.

“I’m gonna grab us some ibuprofen” you sighed and left the kitchen, trying to hide your desire to throw up.

“Thank you” Geto said.

“I think they’re feeling worse than they say” Gojo noted quietly, not wanting you to hear.

“Probably, you know they don’t like to show it” Geto agreed.

“We’re out of painkillers, so that fucking sucks” you groaned as you returned to the kitchen, slamming the empty ibuprofen bottle on the table.

“You okay?” Gojo asked as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Yeah, this headache is just killing me” you sighed. “I’ll be fine though, even without the painkillers”

“You sure? I could go get some painkillers, you two look like you really need them” Gojo motioned at you and Geto.

“Please and thank you” Geto said, more for your sake than his own, because he knew you wouldn’t want to bother Gojo with something like that, at least not just for your own sake.

“I won’t take long” Gojo said and kissed both you and Geto on the cheek, before hurrying to put on his jacket and shoes.

Before you knew it, he was out the door. Gojo was wonderful, even though he could be an idiot sometimes. Geto was much more cool headed, but just as amazing. You loved them both so much, and you knew they felt the same way about you. You could never stop worrying about them though. They were two special grade sorcerers, the strongest there was, but still, every time they stepped out of that door, you were afraid they wouldn’t come back. Maybe it was just the line of work they were in, what you’d been trained for too. You didn’t end up choosing that life but you still saw it. You saw how tired it made them.

“Thanks for always worrying about us” Geto said suddenly, like he could read your mind.

“It kinda comes with this whole relationship thing” you said jokingly.

“I know, but I appreciate it, and I know Satoru does too, even if he forgets to say it” Geto smiled.

“Thanks” you smiled back.

Gojo didn’t take long with his trip to the pharmacy, and him being in the best condition out of the three of you, he wanted to take care of you and Geto. Geto resisted at first, but Gojo wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“You took care of me last night, so let me return the favor you stubborn-!” Gojo argued as he tried to carry Geto to the couch.

“I don’t need you to carry me!” Geto argued back, pushing Gojo away, but he held his grip.

Even though your head still hurt, these two idiots still got a laugh out of you with their bickering. You wished it could be like this forever, just the three of you, happy in your own little bubble.

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wikiangela · 9 months ago

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

tagged by @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @aroeddiediaz @underwaterninja13 @nmcggg @ladydorian05 thank you <33

How many works do you have on ao3?

right now it's 90! (57 of these are 911 lol)

What's your total ao3 word count?

535,450

What fandoms do you write for?

currently just 911, but I have some destiel and sambucky fics and who knows, I might get back to them at some point haha

Top 5 fics by kudos:

For a holiday (and forevermore)

I can't love you any more (than I do now)

I'd marry you with paper rings

the next best thing

There’s no way that it’s not going there (with the way that we’re looking at each other)

(they're all buddie and I just noticed that the top 4 are all over 1k kudos?? when did that happen lmao)

Do you respond to comments?

I do! sometimes it takes me a while bc i get lowkey overwhelmed lol but I always do!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

there's not a lot bc I prefer happy or hopeful endings, but I guess by post 6x10 fics? Fine and don't know what I'd do if your tomorrow never came idk lol

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

most of my fics have happy endings, but I guess I'd say For a holiday (and forevermore)

Do you get hate on fics?

not really? got like one or two not very nice comments but generally no haha

Do you write smut?

yes I do 😁 not often and it always takes me forever but I do have two smut fics in the works (one buddie, one bucktommy lol)

Craziest crossover?

don't have any

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

no, as far as I know

Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

Have you co-written a fic before?

All time favorite ship?

buddie

(ngl, bucktommy is a veeeeery close second rn🙈)

What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

there's two that have been fighting me for so long they're lowkey abandoned now and tbh I don't know if I still want to finish them? one is a 5+1 nicknames, and the other just a silly idea about eddie flirting with buck since they met but buck being veeeery oblivious lol

What are your writing strengths?

I think (usually) I'm pretty good at staying true to the characters and not making them too ooc (and I know when it's ooc, okay, I have one wip rn where I just don't give a fuck, I'm writing it anyway lol), and I can get into their heads pretty well. Also I think I'm good at the cute fluffy stuff lol idk

What are your writing weaknesses?

there's probably a lot lol - rn the one that comes to mind is descriptions probably, which is why writing fanfic where we have established characters and settings is so much easier than og stuff haha

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I don't mind it but I don't do it a lot aside from a pet name here and there bc I just don't wanna get anything wrong lol

First fandom you wrote in?

for tv shows supernatural, but before that I did write rpf which i just wanna forget about lol

Favorite fic you've written?

rn it's three:

we don't know where this is going now (don't be afraid of heights, let me open your heart wide) - my tommy pov fic <3

I'm comin' back, don't let me go - buck driving/breakdown fic

baby, you drive me wild - car smut - might not be my best but it's my fave smut lol

tags: @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @loserdiaz @evanbegins

@wildlife4life @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @loveyouanyway

@spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks

@rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @exhuastedpigeon

@jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @theotherbuckley @daffi-990

@hoodie-buck @tizniz @bidisasterevankinard

#wikiangela writes #20 questions #writer questions #fic writer #my fics #writing tag game

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slutforsnow · 1 year ago

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Yall the angst decided to hit me at 12am LMAO, but here's a lil spoiler for Partners in Crime (kinda a draft cause idk which girl is which and when, etc)

Tw: whoring, screaming, mental breakdown of the 1800s, abuse of consent.

"Do you honestly think you know what's good for him!?" Violet shouted, her blade in hand as she faced Dulcinea. She had been busy chopping off bits of her hair in the middle of a breakdown because of what she had been doing to keep herself distracted. She couldn't do big chunks of her hair, no no no. They didn't like that. They liked long luscious hair.

"Why, yes, in fact, Ms. Evans, I do," She had calmly replied, glancing down at the chops of what used to be Violet's dead ends.

"WELL YOU FUCKING DONT. YOU DONT KNOW SHIT ABOUT BILLY; HAS HE TOLD YOU ANYTHING ABOUT HIS HOME LIFE? ABOUT HIS MA? WHY HE TURNED TO THE OUTLAW LIFE IN THE FIRST PLACE?!" She screamed, feeling the hot tears roll down her cheeks. She couldn't take it anymore. The multiple women, the insistence from Billy that a certain woman was "the" one. Violet had enough. She was tired of it; she wanted Billy for herself and was the only one who could see that he was hurting or trying to distract himself when something was on his mind.

"I HAVE TRIED, TRIED, AND TRIED TO BE OKAY AROUND YOU- BE DECENT, LIKE JESSE ASKED. BE RESPECTFUL, BUT YOU DONT DO THE SAME TO BILLY. YOU DONT RESPECT HIM, YOU JUST THINK HES HOT. HES A PERSON TOO, HES GOT A GOOD HEART, WONDERFUL INTENTIONS, AND MORE PASSION THAN ANY OF THE MEN IVE BEEN LETTING USE MY BODY."

"You been what...?" Came a familiar voice and both women looked. Billy.

Violet felt fear well up in her throast. He wasnt supposed to know.

She immediately shut the bathroom door in his and Dulcinea's faces, and locked it shut. She heard muffled arguing between Dulcinea and Billy yet all she could do was cry. She slid down to the floor, leaning against the door and sobbed her heart out to herself. Billy knew now what she was doing to help them get by while being outlaws. That wasn't the plan-Billy was never supposed to find out.

She had been whoring her body for older men to fuck. To abuse until they couldn't finish anymore. All to keep food coming.

Violet's tears eventually came to a stop and so did Billy's and Dulcinea's arguing. It was silent for a while before Billy's voice came back, raw from yelling, only to speak softly to Violet.

"Vi...? Whenever you're ready, I'd like for us to talk.. about everythin', okay? No more secrets between us," He offered, only to receive two gentle raps on the door in response. He knew what that mean; they had established a system where one or two knocks meant some form of yes or no, depending on the situation. Violet meant 'Okay.'

"Do you want me to stay here and wait for you?" One rap of her knuckles against the hard wood. 'No.'

"Okay... I'll be outside. And don't worry, Dulcinea's gone and she wont be comin' back." 'Thank you, Billy.'

Tags: @etfrin @hearts4court @snows-wife @delusionalbunni @kiraflowersworld @victory-scream0462 @curled-hair-red-lips @morallygrayboys @phoward89 @xoxo-eyeballs @thereeallink @graciouslyc @acidaciruela @wanda-maximoff-enthusiast @firstworldproblemthings

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residentrookie · 14 days ago

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writer interview game 🫧

thanks for the tags my lovelies i literally loved reading all of ur answers @whorerific @otrtbs @spacexcowgirl @sunfl0w3rmoon (if i'm forgetting someone, and i feel like i am, i am so sorry)

how many works do you have on ao3?

currently 4!!! feeling slay about that

what's your total ao3 word count?

167,842 (eep!)

your top 5 stories by kudos?

i'll be seeing you

are you sick of me? (would you like to be?)

lovesick

starfell lodge

do you respond to comments?

i try to because they geniunely are so wonderful and motivate me so much but i do have a hefty amount sitting in my inbox that need some TLC :(

what's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

ermmm well it's not written yet, but out of the ones I'm currently working on that's probs gonna be ibsy. due to the mcd of it all i fear.

do you write crossovers?

naur <3

have you ever received hate on a fic?

thankfully no bc i'm a sensitive little bitch. but ppl have commented like... weird things before. like in one of my fics, james loves twilight (bc duh) and someone commented just to let me know that they hated twilight. i was like dawg, is this fr the time and place to air that out??

do you write smut?

a ha ha. not yet!

have you ever had a fic stolen?

nooooo thank gawd. unless u know something i don't...

have you ever had a fic translated?

nope! maybe someday, i think that would be real real kewl :)

have you ever co-written a fic before?

no but i do love to ponder this possibility with my friends and then never revisit the idea again...

what's your all-time favorite ship?

RAHHHHHHH ok. fuck. wolfstar. GOTTA BE‼️ (jegulus, my loves, my lights, u are a close, close second)

what's a wip that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

i have a hurt/no comfort wolfstar fic that eats at my liver like that one guy who got cursed. i guarantee u, i will never write it. i was just meant to ruminate on it and never do a thing about it.

what are your writing strengths?

ooooh!! i think dialogue!!! i'm a yapper and i love writing yappers!!! also i lurvvvv a good metaphor.

what are your writing weaknesses?

setting. descriptions. everytime my characters go to a new location i want to actually pass away. like idk there are floors? some walls? maybe a window, if i'm feeling generous? IDK IDGAF I WANT THEM TO TALK TO EACH OTHER AND DO SHIT RAHHHHH

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

PRO! as my darling rose said so aptly, google translate <3 (and occasionally i use my own personal translator @pretentiouswreckingball if she's feeling generous hehehe)

what's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

oooooooh. drarry maybe? yeah. i feel good about that. also i'm intrigued by pandoraxlily.

what's your favorite fic you've ever written?

that's gonna be my best american girl, i'll be seeing you. my first fic, my only longfic, my number one boy. ibsy is my pride and joy and also my curse and burden. but seriously i've poured my SOUL into that fic and i do believe it shows. this feels like a good time to mention that there's a new chapter comin out (tomorrow possibly!!)

OPEN TAG‼️ I'M SO FUCKING TIRED I CAN'T KEEP MY EYES OPEN‼️

#alright that's a wrap for me #cue the youtube exit music #see ya #writer interview #fic: i'll be seeing you #fic: are you sick of me?#fic: starfell lodge #fic: lovesick

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endfght · 2 years ago

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🎲🎲🎲🎲🎲 i want more <3

tod waggner & kinsey oliver: tod b like 🧍 prrrety grill. dating christa or not this man is still blushing and stuttering and fumbling over himself in front of pretty girls im sorry theres nothing that can be done to change him. idk truly theyre both survivors of a tragedy??? both were/are incredibly fucked up for a Long Time after said tragedy..... emotional support friends when tod is just like a golden retriever he can be ur esa dog kins.

kirby reed & kinsey oliver: i had this in the tags originally and then was like?? idiot what are u doing sO : kirby is in the fbi now....... and probably would have been (or would have been in training but we can fudge the details ok) just starting out when everything happens with kins and mal the second time,,,, so What If she were to have helped mike (and his team) find them???? i simply think that these girls as her first case is sexy and would be exactly what she needs to throw herself into her job to rly stop ppl like charlie<3 and the man that took kins and mal.

bethany bixler & kinsey oliver: ok so it was a no on the hell priest with a love for pain and pleasure but.... what about deadites. totally different from creatures from hell........... but also we can go Not That and beth could meet kins while shes on tour w a band or something like that. kins if ur nice to her for one (1) second beth can get u backstage to meet the band for free ok just one (1) kind gesture.

jules louden & kinsey oliver: mal is related to the loudens,,, there is not a doubt in my mind that they attended parties at mals house for holidays/special occasions and to think that kinsey would not also be there is absolute insanity. jules/mal/kins (and stef too if she would like to join ofc<3) were probably an unstoppable trio when they were rly young,,, just annoying the absolute hell out of their relatives and gossiping. complete menaces if u see them walking towards u RUN. u know those holidays at ur aunt n uncles where u beg ur parents to sleep over for the night.... yeah thats them. their campouts in mals treehouse<3 but immediate Not Sweet jules comin Back From The Dead.. the first holiday that she attends and maybe mal brings kins with her.... how different their interactions would be.. but also so the same bc they all went through this horrible trauma and still came out on the other sside blah blah u kno. i think they could be neat.

michael roth & kinsey oliver: YEAH BOI. theres so mcuh that we can do with that but what can i write here that we havent already talked about???? what i cAN do is tell u some of my favorite ideas ok. im a sucker for letter threads so ,,,, if kins wants to keep writin mike letters he will answer them. or like. The FIRST letter she sends to start it off. the mental debate he has ab answering. mike interviewing them at the hospital but lowkey having the Worst Time bc he looks at kins and sees hannah and wants to scream and cry but also hug her. IDK i can keep goin i just we need to write them ok. kins (and mal) visiting mike and the others at the station a few months after theyre found to say thanks or smth idkidk thats probably dumb and a bad thread idea. they just have so much potential and the fact that we havent written them yet is a crime @graecland.

#ok hear me out w tod #i have a verse w gruvies where mal and bill are married #and w k that christa is bev's cousin (or smth like that idr i just know we saw marsh and went with it)#and i have a thread where mal was hangin out w christa helpin her w smth for school #anD if tod and christa are together.... mal would know him and so obviously kins would probably know him bc #they are One Person in my mind even if theyre on opposite sides of the country or wORLD they know everything about one another #yeah i did this at work and yeah i had to try not to Scream while doing it #anyw my first thought at kirby was mal/kins ghostface duo but.... thats for another day #removing kirby from scream and placing her into our own universe #so big brained i think #but also if u wanna throw kins (and mal) into scream we should do that too giggle #idk what to say ab beth and kins that wouldnt be basic ass ''let them be friends and do normal things'' so dfkjgdf #kins fighting off / killing deadite mal >#mal and kins not being able to exist without one another in my brain i think is a problem #i always need to relate one back to the other and im Sorry #GETTING JULES AND MIKE BACK TO BACK HELLO #the way that just. all of our ocs are going to connect and be in the same universe at this point #theyve all got to meet at least once #＆. inbox ‚ answered .#hallowburnt

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janatm · 3 months ago

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head, shoulders, knees and toes || MORUCK

tagging: Morgan Weston & Noah Puckerman

date & time: September 21, 2024 at some point in the day idk

location: Morgan's Place

warnings: man pain

summary: Morgan's shoulder hurts and Puck tends to it. Maybe a little talking has but it's mostly just two men in pain.

word count: 4,968

PUCK was so fucking confused by every aspect of this thing him, Eva and Morgan were doing. Normally when shit was sun and casual, he was fun and casual and that's what they were, right? I mean, he'd thought after their original talk they were agreeing it was more than a one time thing, but that it wasn't an exclusive thing. Now, he's kinda pissed at and hurt by Morgan and he was annoyed knowing that Eva was out doing whatever she planned on doing out in that dress from the other night. And it doesn't make any sense because they didn't do anything wrong, technically. Yet, Puck went and slept with someone else because he didn't want to be the only one not seeing other people and he's been feeling like a dick about that because he basically used Kurt to put some distance between himself and his feelings, whatever they were, for Morgan and Eva. It didn't really work though, obviously given the current situation he was is. All of this was way too much to be thinking about in line at Target. So he just tried to zone out and move on auto-piolet to get himself to Morgan's place. Thankfully, that worked and now he had a Target bag full of first aid shit as he walked through the door to the living room almost exactly 45 minutes after he left his place. Squatting down so he was level with the other man laying on the couch, he put the bag down next to his feet. "Hey, man, can you sit up for me?" He asked his voice as gentle as he could make it.

MORGAN lay face down on the couch, his shoulder throbbing as he tried to breathe through the pain, his thoughts tangled up in more than just the pulled muscle. He’d been out in the barn doing what he always did - working, staying busy - but all it took was one wrong move, and now here he was, feeling helpless and confused about everything else on top of it. He heard the door open and the sound of Puck’s footsteps, feeling a strange mix of relief and guilt at hearing his voice. Puck had been distant lately, and Morgan could only think of one reason; his date with Serena. And Morgan only did that, because he was under the assumption that Puck and Eva were both already seeing other people too. It was like they’d all gotten their wires crossed somewhere, but he’d thought they were all on the same page from the beginning. Morgan let out a grunt and tried to push himself up when Puck squatted down next to him, the Target bag rustling as it hit the floor. “I can try,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow. Slowly, with a groan, he attempted to sit up, but without any luck, and he fell back down, face planted into the pillow, and he let out a heavy sigh, feeling defeated. He turned to look at Puck, and something twisted inside him. The concern in Puck’s eyes hit harder than the pain in his shoulder. “Thanks for comin',” he said softly, his fingers toying with a string from the throw pillow. “I figured I just pulled somethin’. Been haulin’ hay bales all day.” He paused, chewing on his lip for a moment before getting into addressing the elephant in the room, because that was a whole different kind of pain.

PUCK was trying really hard not to be effected by how much Morgan was genuinely struggling. It was actually really difficult to see this big and strong man not even be able to lift himself up to sit up. That soothing voice tinged with pain as he spoke, the groan the escaped the man as he tried doing as Puck asked and the subsequent flop right back fown into the couch when he failed to sit upright. Puck couldn't help it when his hand reached out to run his fingers through the other man's hair, removing his hand only when he turned to face him. Nodding in response, not trust himself to speak on anything but the injury right now, he simply kept his mouth shut. Readjusting so he was on his knees and could get a better look at Morgan's shoulder, Puck resisted the urge to kiss the top of his head and he reached over, one of his hands resting on his back gently just below the hurting shoulder blade. No matter how annoyed or hurt or whatever he might be with Morgan right now, he cared about the man, and Puck was never going to be okay with someone he cared for being in any kind of pain. So he actively tried to avoid putting any pressure on the actual Shoulder for now. "I'm gonna have to apply some pressure in places okay? It's probabyl gonna hurt and I'm sorry alright, the second you make a pained nose I'll back off so don't just try and breath through the shit, say something, I just need to figure out how bad it is." Puck explained before his free hand came to rest in the space between his shoulderblades. "One... two... three." With that he starting to apply a little pressure in various spots on the effected shoulder. Stopping when he heard Morgan respond or felt the muscles contract.

MORGAN let out a low groan as he tried to brace himself for what was coming, feeling the warmth of Puck’s hand resting just below the sore spot on his back. The gentle touch of Puck’s fingers in his hair had been oddly comforting, though Morgan couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. It was just one of those things Puck did that made everything feel a little less overwhelming, even if it was only for a second. He squeezed his eyes shut as Puck started to explain what he was about to do, trying to focus on his breathing, but every word just reminded him of the deeper ache he’d been trying to ignore. Not just the pain in his shoulder, but the whole mess between the three of them. When did everything get so damn complicated? He thought they'd all been on the same page, and now he just felt like he’d done something wrong without knowing exactly what it was. “Alright,” Morgan muttered, nodding slightly as Puck’s hand settled on his back. He tensed as Puck counted down, bracing for the pressure. “Go ahead,” he grunted, trying to prepare himself. As Puck pressed on the sore spots, Morgan let out a sharp hiss, clenching his fists against the couch cushions. It hurt, no doubt about it, but he wasn’t about to say anything yet. He’d dealt with worse - ranch life didn’t exactly allow for much complaining, and the amount of injuries he’d gotten from doing rodeos couldn’t be counted on both Morgan and Puck’s hands - but this was different. This wasn’t just physical pain. There was something about the care Puck was showing him, even while being pissed off, that made everything hit harder. He forced out a shaky breath, trying to speak through the discomfort. Morgan flinched slightly as Puck hit another tender spot, but he gritted his teeth and kept going. He winced as Puck applied pressure again, then let out a defeated sigh. “We gotta stop, it hurts too damn much.” He breathed out, trying to steady himself through the pain.

PUCK wanted to stop at the first sign of Morgan's pain. The idea that he was causing it, made it really hard to do what he needed to do to assess his shoulder. With everything muscle contraction and every wince and groan, Puck let out an apologetic 'I'm sorry.' Almost under his breath, he wasn't sure if Morgan could hear and as he moved along the wounded area he was relieved when the other man finally called it because he didn't think he could cause him pain for another second. Taking his hands off of his shoulder he tried to resist the urge to run a hand down his back and failed miserably. "I don't think it's dislocated or anything too bad. Just overworked, sore and maybe bruised." He sat back on the heels on his boots as he reached into the Target back and pulled out a bottle of extra strength Tylenol and a water bottle. Getting two pills out for the cowboy, he opened the water bottle, before handing the pills to him. "Take two of these every six to eight hours for the next three days. If the pain is still this bad after that you'll need to go to am actual doctor." Puck wasn't certified in much more than first aid but there were some things he had to learn on the battlefield to keep civilians, his fellow soldiers and himself alive. "In about fifteen minutes, I'm gonna help you sit up and it's probably not gonna feel all that great and I'm sorry about that." He said, but the he moved to sit on the floor his back against the couch, his legs out in front of him, he told his phone to set a timer for fifteen minutes before looking at his lover and feeling that damn flutter in his chest. Gos damn, his dad was right. He is weak. "How'd you manage to fuck up your shoulder doing something you've done a million times before? Don't you know your limits?" He was concerned but trying not to sound to harsh even though he was still annoyed at the other man, he didn't want him running himself broken and ragged.

MORGAN let out a low grunt, more from the ache in his shoulder than anything else, as he turned his head slightly to look at Puck sitting on the floor next to him. He appreciated the help, even if it didn’t feel too great right now. The way Puck’s fingers had traced down his back - despite the pain - was comforting in a way Morgan hadn’t expected. The guy had a softness to him, even when he was annoyed, and that just made everything more confusing. He swallowed the Tylenol without a word, letting his cheek press back into the pillow as he took a deep breath, trying to focus on anything but the nagging ache. “Thanks, man,” he mumbled, his voice low, though he wasn’t just talking about the pills. Puck didn’t need to be here, didn’t have to take care of him like this, but he was doing it anyway. Morgan tried to laugh off Puck’s concern, though the sound came out weak and strained. “Hell if I know. I guess I was just pushin’ it without thinking.” He shifted a little, wincing again as a sharp jolt ran through his shoulder. “I’ve been movin’ those damn bales for years, never thought I’d pull somethin’. Maybe I’m finally getting old.” He could feel the tension between them, something unsaid still hanging in the air. That was what bothered him more than the physical pain - this invisible wall that seemed to have sprung up between him, Puck, and Eva. He stared at the back of Puck’s head for a long moment, wondering how to approach it. But he wasn’t great with words, especially when it came to stuff like this. He didn’t even know how to begin asking what had gone wrong between them, or if he’d misunderstood everything.Morgan exhaled slowly, the weight of it all settling heavier than his own body on the couch. “I don’t get it, Puck,” he finally muttered, voice barely above a whisper. “I thought we were all good... I thought you and Eva were seein’ other people too. So what happened? Why’d everything go sideways?” His eyes flicked up toward Puck’s face, searching for some kind of answer. There was a vulnerability to Morgan’s tone that he didn’t show often - hell, he barely even let himself feel it most of the time. But lying here like this, unable to do much more than wait for the pain to pass, he couldn’t stop it from creeping in.

PUCK had spent way too much time in his own head the past couple of days, Gabe having made an appearance definitely hadn't helped. Even though it had been cathartic to punch him in his fucking face, it seemed that wasn't a cure all for the psychological damage Puck had endured for thirty years thanks to the unkind words of his father. Having too much time to himself usually led down a dark self loathing path where he started to not only hear the cruel and mean words of his father but he also started to see truth in them. So, of course, when he started to think more and more about Morgan and Serena, his mind convinced itself that the moment they'd shared had only been a moment for him and just sex for the cowboy. That maybe if he was Eva, things would be different. That if that moment had happened with Eva, Morgan never could have gone out with someone else. Now, with how mad Eva was at Morgan, would she have even cared if it had been him? Was he just in the thing in the middle of their great love story. The odd man out, the third wheel. I mean, Puck had never been the guy you fell in love with. He was the guy you fucked until you found the person you fell in love with. His dad was right, a bright smile and fuck was all he was good for. As he sat there, looking anywhere but at the other man, he understood his feelings for his two lovers. Understood it was more than sex for him, there was a deep care and appreciation there. A need, for the time, for their attention, for them. Maybe it was more than care and appreciation, but he wasn't willing to open that door, not when he was so sure it would be slammed in his face. He could hear the words coming out of Morgan's mouth, but he felt like he was outside of his body right now, just there and not there. Why did he come? All this was doing was making him feel more and it fucking hurt. Sitting there, he let the questions process in his head and he brought himself back to his body again. "We're good, man. And this thing between you and Eva, y'all will figure it out. I ain't got no doubts about that. You just gotta talk to her. Listen to her, maybe be honest about how y'all feel about each other." A part of him wanted to express his feelings for the man, for Eva, but he just didn't want to be in the way anymore.

MORGAN listened to Puck, feeling the weight of the other man's words sink in. There was something off in the way Puck said they were 'good' like he was pushing everything down, trying to make it sound simple. But Morgan knew better, could hear the pain beneath the surface. He was face-down on his couch, in physical pain, sure - but now his heart was twisting too. He wasn’t sure how everything got so messed up between them, and it killed him that Puck seemed to think he was the odd one out in this whole situation. He winced as he shifted his head slightly on the pillow, staring at the floor, his voice soft. “I ain’t just in this thing with Eva. I care about you too, Puck.” He groaned as he tried to push himself up a little, the strain on his shoulder making him stop almost immediately. "I don’t know if I’ve been clear enough ‘bout that." Morgan’s voice cracked slightly, a rare moment of emotion breaking through his usual calm, easy-going demeanor. His heart pounded as he said the words, unsure of how they’d land, but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Puck needed to know, and maybe Morgan needed to admit it to himself too. "I don’t know how to fix this," he continued, quieter now. "I’m not good with... talkin’ about feelings. Hell, I barely know what I’m feelin' half the time, that’s why I take so long to figure it out. But I know that you’re important to me. And I hate that you’re feelin’ like you’re in the way, ‘cause that ain’t true." Morgan placed his free hand on Puck’s shoulder, his fingers softly moving to caress his earlobe to get his attention, and he finally lifted his head just enough to look at Puck, his eyes soft with both pain and sincerity. "You’re not just some... third wheel in this. And I don’t want you thinkin’ I don’t care, ‘cause I do." He swallowed hard, hoping the words were enough. "I don’t know what’s gonna happen with Eva and me, but I want you in this too, Puck. Not just as a part of it, but as someone I care about."

PUCK heard Morgan's words and they sounded nice until that voice in his head weighed in. 'You can care about somebody and not wanna be with them, son. Don't be so stupid.' The sound of his father's voice had never been so loud as they were right now, drowning out everything else. Hell, Puck hadn't even noticed Morgan trying to push himself up, he was so focused on looking the floor in front of him. Of course once Morgan started talking again, there was the sound, his father's laugh. Laughing at him because the cowboy's words filled him with hope, his touch made him want to give in and tell him everything, tell him he cared about him too, that he was importnat to him that all he wants is to matter to him and to Eva, that he wants them to be together. Exclusively, he doesn't want them to date or fuck anyone else. Want to tell him about Kurt.... that he couldn't fuck him because of his feelings for injured man next to him and their goddess. But before he could muster up the energy and the courage, there was that fucking voice again, louder than ever. 'He's just being nice being you're being fucking pathetic and he's too hurt to tell you to fuck off.' And the laugher just filled his mind, until he took a deep breath and finally looked at the other man. "There's not to fi-" He was cut off by the timer. Jesus, had it been fifteen minutes already? Getting up, he positioned himself so Morgan could throw his good arm over his shoulders. "Hey, we're gonna sit up now so I can get you some topical pain shit and then wrap up your shoulder and put some ice packs on it for abouot 15 minutes." He explained, "Just put your good arm around me okay? It's probably gonna hurt but I'll make it quick, promise." Shit he was now realizing, that Morgan's shirt as gonna have to come off and both the cream and the wrap were gonna be... intimate. Shit, shit, shit. "You ready?"

MORGAN could feel the hesitation in Puck’s movements, even before he said a word. Something was off, and the silence between them, thick and heavy, didn’t sit right. Puck’s voice seemed distant, almost like he was on autopilot, going through the motions. Morgan wasn’t the sharpest when it came to reading people, but even he could tell something deeper was eating at Puck. He groaned as Puck helped him sit up, his shoulder burning with pain, but his mind was more focused on the sudden distance he felt between them. The idea of stripping off his shirt with Puck this close should’ve felt normal, comfortable even, after all they’d been through. But now, it felt like there was a wall between them, a barrier that neither of them knew how to break. Morgan rested his good arm around Puck’s shoulders as instructed, wincing at the effort. “Yeah, let’s do it. I’m ready,” he said, trying to keep his tone light despite everything. He couldn’t help but feel like the physical pain was the least of his problems right now. He let Puck do his thing, waiting for the inevitable sting of the cream, but what hurt worse was the distance he could feel growing with each second of silence. It gnawed at him, making the ache in his shoulder seem trivial in comparison. He had no idea how they got here, how things got so complicated between them, between him, Puck, and Eva. He didn’t want to screw this up. But hell, he was already feeling like he might’ve done just that. Taking a breath, Morgan finally spoke, his voice softer, more vulnerable. “I don’t wanna hurt you, Puck. Not you, not Eva.” Morgan wasn’t good with feelings, wasn’t good at navigating this kind of emotional terrain. But Puck mattered. He had to try. “You’re not a third-wheel. You’re in this, with Eva and I.” He glanced up at Puck, hoping the man would believe him, hoping he hadn’t already lost him before they even really figured out what they had.

PUCKwrapped his own arm gently around Morgan's back to offer some more support as he slowly helped the other man up. There was no way to make it painless but the pain killers should be helping a little bit, so he didn't have to feel so bad about making him move so much.Thankfully, having something to focus on helped his head stay quiet. Quiet enough to hear Morgan's words and not immediately have them dismissed or reasoned away by his negative thoughts. For a few minutes he could just try to believe what he was saying was true. But he still wasn't sure what to say or how to respond so he just got the cream and the wrap and the ice packs out of his back. The ice packs had come from his house and were still frozen even after twenty minutes out of the cooler. Putting everything on the nearet surface, he stood in front of the other, moving his good arm to remove it from the sleeve of his shirt, then pulling it over Morgan's head and slipping it the rest of the way off by sliding it gingerly down the other arm. Trying not to focus too much on his naked torse, Puck just sat down on Morgan's injusred side and got the cream and started applying it. Trying to be as gentle as possible, apologizing along the way when he knew he had hit a particuraly sore part. He wanted to place little kisses accross his skin, but he felt too paralyzed to do that. Instead he sat back to give the cream a few minutes to work before doing the wrap. "It's fine man." He finally managed. "Just... saw my dad this weekend is all. It got physical." This was true and he still had the bruises on his ribs to prove it. His knuckles were basically all the way normal again.

MORGAN flinched as Puck gingerly pulled his shirt off, the sudden cool air on his bare skin making him shiver a little, though it was more from the nerves than the temperature. Having Puck this close, his hands gentle but steady as he applied the cream, made Morgan’s mind race. He didn’t know how to handle the mix of emotions swirling inside him - pain, confusion, and something softer, warmer, that he still didn’t have a name for. When Puck finally spoke, the words cut through the haze of pain and uncertainty. ‘Just… saw my dad this weekend is all. It got physical.’ Morgan felt his chest tighten, a different kind of ache blooming now. He knew Puck had his demons, that much had always been clear, but hearing it put like that, so casually, made Morgan’s heart twist. He didn’t know the full story, but the idea of Puck dealing with that kind of pain - physical and emotional - while he’d been too wrapped up in his own confusion to notice, hit him hard. His own problems suddenly felt small, trivial. Here he was, lying face down on the couch, stuck in his head about feelings and misunderstandings, while Puck had been dealing with something real, something raw. Morgan wanted to reach out, to offer more than just words, but his body wouldn’t cooperate, his injured shoulder making sure of that. Instead, he turned his head slightly to look at Puck, his voice softer than usual. “I’m sorry. But y’know, whatever he said, whatever he did, there was a reason behind your motivation, and it was all him.” He let the silence settle for a beat, watching Puck’s hands as they worked. “Look, I know we ain’t always great at talkin’ about stuff, but you don’t gotta handle this alone, alright? I mean, we’re in this… whatever this is, together. And I’m here, if you want me to be.” Morgan wasn’t sure how to say what he was feeling - hell, he wasn’t even sure what he was feeling - but he knew one thing for sure: he didn’t want Puck to feel like he had to carry all this by himself.

PUCK just tried to focus on the task at hand and not think about anything else, not even about the man whose shoulder he was tending to. Of course, he was utterly failing at that, mainly because it was impossible for the former Marine not to have his mind consumed by someone who was shirtless in front of him, trusting him and reaching out to him. It didn't make any sense that Puck was feeling how he was, but he couldn't help it. Maybe his vet group was right and he did need one on one help. Also known as therapy but Puck would never call it that. Before Morgan even spoke, he knew the other man would be supportive and kind, but the softness in his voice. That he hadn't been expecting and honestly, he didn't deserve it. But as he starting wrapping the shoulder up and getting the sling out, Morgan spoke again and it was exactly the right thing to say and he knew the cowboy meant every word, and yet, he found himself rejecting every syllable. This, right here, was the same reason he didn't talk to his mom after a Gabe run in. It was too kind, too caring, too understanding, to loving and Puck just didn't feel like he earned that from them, that he didn't deserve it from anyone. So he didn't respond right away and just finished wrapping the arm and then draping the ice packs over Morgan's shoulder. "Ice this, fifteen minutes, four times a day for four days. Wear the sling for a week. Which means no work, no using the shoulder at all really. You should go see an actual doctor though. Take care of yourself so you don't have to deal with a bum shoulder for the rest of your life." He sighed because he knew he was going to have to reply to everything Morgan had said before, he just didn't know how. "I know my dad isn't a good dude and that he's just an addict and an asshole. And I know I've got people." He said the last part softer and looked Morgan in the eye when he said it. "I'll be fine, man. I always am. Focus on gettin' that shoulder healed up." He said with a small smile, trying to make the mood a little lighter, maybe.

MORGAN felt the weight of silence linger between them, the air thick with unspoken words. Puck’s careful hands wrapped his shoulder with a tenderness that made Morgan’s heart race, even as he fought to push the feelings away. It was easier to focus on the pain, the ice, the practicalities, than to confront the mess of emotions swirling inside him. “I appreciate you, you know,” Morgan finally said, his voice steady but soft, searching Puck's eyes for a sign that he understood. “It’s not just about the shoulder.” He paused, glancing at the ice packs. “You’re always there.” He could see the tension in Puck’s jaw, the way he avoided letting those words settle. Morgan wanted to reach out, to bridge the distance, but he also understood the barriers they had both built. “You don’t have to carry everything alone,” he added, a hint of urgency creeping into his tone. “We’re in this together. You’ve got me, and you’ve got Eva.” The slight smile on Puck’s face felt like a lifeline, even if it was a fragile one. “I know you’re used to being the strong one, but strength can come from letting people in too,” he said, trying to keep it light. Morgan leaned back slightly, studying Puck, the way the sun caught his features, highlighting the conflict behind his eyes. “You matter to me, Puck. Just don’t forget that, alright?” It was a small step, but he hoped it would encourage Puck to share more, to lean on him just a little. “Thank you for comin',” he said genuinely, hoping to ease the weight between them with a soft smile. Reaching his other hand out, he put it on Puck's own healthy shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. He wanted so badly to caress that cheek of his, show him that he was there for him, but he also wasn't about to take it a step too far, if he was crossing any boundaries. So he kept it on the shoulder, and smiled at him, grateful. “With your help, it'll be just fine."

#character tag ( noah puckerman )#puck ( ft. morgan weston )#threads ( noah puckerman )

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puckhq · 4 months ago

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head, shoulders, knees and toes || MORUCK

tagging: Morgan Weston ( @morgan-weston & Noah Puckerman

date & time: September 21, 2024 at some point in the day idk

location: Morgan's Place

warnings: man pain

summary: Morgan's shoulder hurts and Puck tends to it. Maybe a little talking has but it's mostly just two men in pain.

word count: 4,968

MORGAN lay face down on the couch, his shoulder throbbing as he tried to breathe through the pain, his thoughts tangled up in more than just the pulled muscle. He’d been out in the barn doing what he always did - working, staying busy - but all it took was one wrong move, and now here he was, feeling helpless and confused about everything else on top of it. He heard the door open and the sound of Puck’s footsteps, feeling a strange mix of relief and guilt at hearing his voice. Puck had been distant lately, and Morgan could only think of one reason; his date with Serena. And Morgan only did that, because he was under the assumption that Puck and Eva were both already seeing other people too. It was like they’d all gotten their wires crossed somewhere, but he’d thought they were all on the same page from the beginning. Morgan let out a grunt and tried to push himself up when Puck squatted down next to him, the Target bag rustling as it hit the floor. “I can try,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow. Slowly, with a groan, he attempted to sit up, but without any luck, and he fell back down, face planted into the pillow, and he let out a heavy sigh, feeling defeated. He turned to look at Puck, and something twisted inside him. The concern in Puck’s eyes hit harder than the pain in his shoulder. ��Thanks for comin',” he said softly, his fingers toying with a string from the throw pillow. “I figured I just pulled somethin’. Been haulin’ hay bales all day.” He paused, chewing on his lip for a moment before getting into addressing the elephant in the room, because that was a whole different kind of pain.

#morgan weston ― 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙖𝙜 #f2f °( ft. morgan )#― interaction tag #°𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙖𝙜 ↳ f2f

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too-young-to-fall-in-love · 8 months ago

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#video edits#don't mind me getting to this weeks later lol#something about the intro with their names as they're driving is so cute#wait it's also scenes where they're running into danger to save each other#i see what you did there#also i love the font?#the car chase with this music is so good#already freaking out at illya & 'having a heart of stone but watch it break when I get you alone' with the watch scene#yes please take a chance on each other#slow and steady never lost the race but illya did - something napoleon would say#fool for the chase is so perfect#also something napoleon would call illya to get on his nerves#the scenes you picked out are so perfect for the lyrics#illya coming in like thunder#so easy to put on a show and it's napoleon our resident showman#the looks at 'you won't let it go' and 'my passion won't slip away' are so good -- i've replayed that part at least 3 times lol#napoleon 'am i going crazy' with the watch and boat scenes!!#you got me comin' under fire and it's napoleon looking at illya and then them jumping out the window!!!#so so perfect#i love pining napoleon#napollya#'you make me walk the wire' and it's giving back the watch is also just so good#and then illya coming to the rescue ahh!!#again the scene's you picked are so *chef's kiss*#love this so much thank you for sharing (via @falling-into-peril)

PLS OMG IM CRYING grinning ear to ear u know just happy editor things - yes the FONT idk which one u meant but the copperplate (caption font) was so slay imo and it definitely fit the vibe of the song (the swirly letters i used for their names are because i rly like swirly fonts)

BECAUSE HE DID LOSE THE RACE you are literally so right for this (i didn't notice at first and in fact rewatched the video after seeing ur reblog bc omg SUCH NICE THINGS ABOUT MY EDIT i must watch it again)

YES NAPOLEON OUR RESIDENT SHOWMAN PLSSSSS

YES THE AM I GOING CRAZY YES YES YES with the watch and boat scenes because he is 1000% going crazy (i think i am a genius for all my edits trust)

THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH actually btw for these tags they are so very lovely and i love them SO MUCH (brb gonna read them AGAIN)

Comin' Under Fire

youtube

re-uploaded bc i like this version better <3

#pining napoleon ftw actually #also also #did u like the ending part tho #with the i got my message but i ain't gonna crawl #and it's napoleon on the phone with sanders receiving orders to kill illya #but then he doesn't do it and the scene with the gun ah yes chef's kiss #ALSO THANK YOU SO SO SO SO MUCH #idk tumblr etiquette so idk if i can rly do this BUT i love ur commentary #i always love to read ur tags on my edits #they are always so sweet

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 3 years ago

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Play Pretend | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! Idk about y’all but one time I literally ran through a bush to get away from a creepy guy who wouldn’t leave me alone 🥴

As always, send any comments, requests, or suggestions my way! 🥰

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @emetophilily @breakablebarnes 💘

Find part 2 Here!

—————————————-

Frantically, you rushed toward the bar in search of any single man you could find. Near the end of the bar sat a tall, handsome man sipping whiskey all by himself, and you zeroed in on him. You pushed through the throngs of people crowding the bar in a desperate dash, landing you at the handsome stranger’s side. A few light taps on the arm got the man’s attention, his eyes falling upon your anxious expression.

"Pretend to be my boyfriend" you pleaded in a hushed tone as your eyes scanned the bar. The man you’d targeted looked around with you, although he had no idea exactly what he was supposed to be searching for.

"What?"

"Pretend to be my boyfriend. Please. This guy won't leave me alone and-"

"Say no more", he put an arm gently around your shoulders, playing up the boyfriend angle.

"Thanks, I keep trying to shake him and-shit, there he is."

The incredibly drunk asshole who'd been pestering you all night strode confidently up to the bar, looking you up and down with a disgusting, lustful stare.

"Hey, princess. So, this is your boyfriend, huh?" he asked with a cocky grin.

"Yup, this is him!"

"Yeah, right. What's his name?" your stalker clumsily crossed his arms over his chest, hoping to catch you in your lie.

'Shit', you thought. Quickly, you turned to the good Samaritan who'd agreed to be your fake boyfriend and searched his face-before realizing that you actually did know his name. You’d seen his dark blue eyes and sharp features plastered all over the news and posted everywhere online. The dog tags peeking out from underneath his Henley and the quiet whirring sound emanating from his left sleeve confirmed your suspicions.

"James. His name is James, although most people call him Bucky," you threw Bucky a quick wink and leaned into his shoulder. He looked at you, stunned, and felt the beginnings of a smile tug upwards at the corners of his lips. He secured his arm around you a bit tighter, and shot the man a deadly look.

"Nope, I'm not buyin' it, babe." The man took a step toward you and wound his hand tightly around your upper arm, "you're comin' with me."

In a flash, Bucky's hand was on the man's arm, gripping it so tightly you could've sworn you'd heard a bone begin to fracture.

"You don’t get to touch her,” Bucky growled. His intense stare zeroed in on the man with a biting darkness, “And she's not going anywhere with you, asshole.”

If looks could kill, that sleazy creep would’ve dropped dead right there. He finally put two and two together as he stared up into Bucky’s intense, blue eyes and a knowing expression splashed across his face, followed by one of sheer terror.

"You-you're him! You're the-"

Bucky gave the man a shove toward the door and watched as he drunkenly stumbled out of the bar as quickly as his intoxicated body could carry him. Turning back to you, a nervous smile crept across his lips. He feared he’d scared you, that he’d been too violent. You’d been unlucky enough to choose him as your fake boyfriend for the evening, and Bucky knew you were brimming with fear. You’d let the Winter Soldier get close to you, touch you. He knew you’d be hightailing it out of the bar in no time- but you didn’t.

"You're a life saver" you let out a sigh of relief, your anxiety finally dissipating.

"Are you okay?" Genuine concern pulled Bucky’s brows together as he looked down at your arm in search of injuries.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Thank you so much, he was harassing me all night. I really appreciate your help, Sergeant Barnes".

He sighed and looked around the room, hoping no one had overheard your remark. "So, you clearly know who I am..."

"Yeah. Took me a second to recognize you though-you got a haircut," you shot him a wink, “updated your look”. He nodded and absentmindedly ran a gloved hand through his short locks. "I like it, looks good on you. Very handsome".

He mumbled a thanks as his cheeks grew slightly red. "And, hey, um, I dont want you to feel like you have to stay and make small talk, or whatever. You can go back to your friends".

At the mention of your so-called-friends, you rolled your eyes, "My friends aren't here. They ditched me". You took a long pause, admiring the man who’d just saved you, “Plus, what if I want to stay here and hang out with you? Would that be okay?"

Bucky chuckled and nodded, pulling out the barstool he'd been sitting on before he became your fake boyfriend. He gestured for you to take his seat, "Can I buy you a drink?" He took the seat next to yours and flagged down the bartender, waiting for you to give him your order. But you just shook your head.

"Nope, but I can buy you one- it’s the least I can do, Sarge. You saved my ass”.

Bucky began to protest but you narrowed your eyes at him and raised a hand, silencing him before he even got a word out.

The bartender made his way over to the two of you, but Bucky was still too stunned to speak. "Can I get a Moscow mule and..." looking to

Bucky, you waited for him to order his drink.

"Uhh, whiskey. Neat”.

"So, what's the deal with your friends?" Bucky asked, wondering why they would ditch someone as seemingly-great as you. Again, you rolled your eyes. Rehashing the situation only made you more frustrated, but Bucky was genuinely curious. He wanted to listen.

"We were all at a concert down the street," you sighed m, "But we got separated. We'd planned to meet here when the show let out, so I headed this way to wait for them...and they never showed. One of them finally texted me back about half an hour ago and told me they met some guys on the walk over here. They're going to a different bar."

The bartender dropped off your drinks and you took a long pull, welcoming the vodka’s sting.

"Your friends sound kind of shitty," Bucky said flatly, making you laugh out loud. He was honest- you liked that.

"Yeah, they are kind of shitty" you admitted, "we went to college together and I haven't seen them in a while...turns out they suck now". Bucky let an unrestrained laugh leave his mouth for the first time in-he didn't know how long. He sipped on his whiskey while asking you questions about yourself and your life, listening intently and loving every second.

"I'm curious: when you realized who I was, why weren't you scared?" he took a sip of whiskey to attempt to hide how nervous he was. You shook your head emphatically as you finished your drink, surprised at his question.

"I read about you- you're not one of the bad guys. Why would I be scared?"

He shrugged, "that asshole who kept hitting on you seemed pretty terrified. Almost ran into traffic- he couldn't get away fast enough". You laughed at the image of your harasser stumbling over his own feet.

"Who gives a shit about him? Serves him right", you shrugged. Bucky nodded, staring down into his glass as a sad smile appeared on his lips.

"I know you know this, but people are fucking stupid. It took a two second Google search for me to read your story and know-with no doubt-that you're innocent". You stared into his heartbreakingly beautiful blue eyes, admiring the way they lit up as he laughed. You flagged down the bartender for another round and took your turn asking the questions.

"So, Sergeant Barnes-"

"Um, Bucky. You can call me Bucky."

"So, Bucky," you corrected, "We both know I'm here because my friends suck. What brings you to this kinda shitty bar all by yourself on a Thursday night?"

He reached for his new glass and took a sip, trying to buy time before telling the truth. "Um, my friends told me I have to 'put myself out there' or whatever, so-"

"So you came to a bar...by yourself?"

"Guess so," he shrugged. "I had every intention of trying to meet someone, but I wasn't having much luck..."

"Until I showed up and made you fake date me".

"Exactly, now I can go home with the news that, not only did I meet someone, but I have a girlfriend." His eyes lit up as he joked with you, banishing the dark and stormy expression that he usually wore. “Um, I’d actually love to-to take you to dinner some time”. His gloved metal fingers absentmindedly clinked against his glass, betraying just how nervous he was.

“How about this- I see an empty pool table: if you win, I go to dinner with you. Sound fair?”

Bucky didn’t want you to feel like you had to beat him at pool just to be able to say no to a date, but your mischievous smile told him you were interested. The two of you strode over to the pool table with drinks in hand when you stopped Bucky in his tracks.

“Oh, and Barnes,” you shot him a devilish grin, “I’m fucking terrible at pool”.

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minefield-of-a-ninja · 2 years ago

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CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5

Summary (request from @thesassywallflower for @spnfanficpond Secret Santa): Donna is horrified to learn that the boys have never had a proper Christmas, so she invites them to her house for the holiday.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum

Warnings/tags: explicit (eventually), fluff (? Idk), angst (? light), domestic (can’t get much more domestic)

Chapter WC: 2000

Author’s notes: There will be multiple chapters to this -- at least three, and they will all be written in 3rd person POV, shifting perspective in each section.

Many thanks and love to my dear friend and the very best beta ever @brrose-apothecary. Text divider by @talesmaniac89.

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“That’s it,” Donna exclaims, after wiping down her machete and carefully replacing it in its secure case in the bed of her truck. “You two’re comin’ home with me.”

She’s hyper-aware that the Winchesters didn’t have the most conventional upbringing, but, dangit, how many more times will they break her heart with stories about never going to a Christmas party or experiencing the joy of opening gifts on Christmas morning?

“C- coming home with you?” Dean wonders aloud as if he’s testing the words in his mouth. As if she uttered the invitation in Old Norse.

“Yes, Dean. To Stillwater.” Donna turns to face the brothers who both eerily resemble that deer she missed by a hair’s breadth on Highway 95 last week. “Jody and the girls’ll be there, and all’s you need’re the clothes on your backs. We can stop at the dollar store down the street for you two to pick up a couple white elephant gifts.”

“Dollar store?” Dean asks, looking thoroughly bereft of understanding.

“Dean, stop repeating everything that comes out of my mouth. And close yours while you’re at it; you look like a drowning guppy.”

Donna rounds the side of her pickup to stride toward the driver’s side door. The brothers shuffle after her like a couple of 10-year-olds who’d rather be playing Super Mario than endure whatever perceived Hell she’s invited them to.

“Donna...” Sam lets his words hang in the air while both brothers huff and puff condensation into the frigid night air and fidget after her. “We’ve never been to a Christmas party or anything like that.”

“That’s why you’re coming to mine. No excuses.” She spins on her heel and stares them down as they exchange looks and unspoken words.

Dean’s the one who breaks first. He swings his narrowed gaze back to her.

“Will there be mistletoe?” he asks pointedly.

Donna tries not to think about Dean and mistletoe at the same time. Not that she’s never imagined kissing him, but now is not the time.

She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Of course! What kinda Christmas party would it be without mistletoe?”

Dean grins before slapping his brother on the back. “Well, Sammy, looks like we’re gonna have Christmas after all. Ya know, one without a Wood Nymph.”

“Huh?” Donna furrows her brow in question.

Sam shakes his head. “Never mind, long story,” he mutters. “I guess we’ll follow you?”

Donna claps her hands together as she nods, bouncing on her toes. “You betcha!”

“Can’t believe we almost passed this up,” Dean mutters to Sam as they unpack their bags, making a load of laundry. They each showered in Donna’s guest bathroom and she gave them some old clean sweatpants and t-shirts of her dad’s to wear for the night.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” Sam agrees quietly, tossing his last pair of underwear to the floor. He’s pleased that Dean sees the value here in Donna’s home.

Ever since they defeated Chuck, Sam has tried a dozen different ways to get Dean out of the bunker and into a real house and real jobs. Dean seems frozen in time, though, like he can’t see that they can do just about anything they want now. They’re regular hunters — no angels or demons to battle (Jack and Rowena have seen to that). In fact, most of the monster world has quieted and stays in their own lanes.

“Imagine having this on the regular.” Sam tests the waters. “A washer and dryer from this century?” he chuckles, scooping up the dirty clothes and shaking his damp hair out of his face.

“Yeah, well, I doubt Donna wants a couple salty old hunters camped out in her guest room for the rest of her life.” Dean turns down the covers of his borrowed bed and inspects the pillow. “‘Sides, I like havin’ my own room.”

Sam watches Dean smooth his hands over the bedding, wondering...

He knows how Dean feels about Donna, even though his brother’s never put those feelings into words. Sam’s seen the way Dean looks at her, the way he touches her like she’s made of glass, and the tone of his voice when he says her name. Dean adores Donna, but even more than that, he wants her.

“What if...” Sam starts then pauses, shifting his weight. When Dean turns to face him with a questioning brow and wistful smile, he forges ahead. “What if you could share it with someone like Donna?”

Dean almost rolls his eyes as he slowly straightens his stance. His soft smile twists as he meets his brother’s gaze. Sam worries that he’s pushed Dean too far.

“And now we’re back to Donna deservin’ a lot better than...” Dean shakes his head and motions between himself and his duffle bag.

“Heya,” the woman in question sing-songs as she pokes her head around the door. “How ya doin’ in here? Need anything?”

Dean’s edge immediately smooths at the sight of the sheriff.

“Hey,” he answers with a quick, practiced grin. “We’re good. Better than. Just, uhh...” He reaches for the bundle in Sam’s arms. “Gonna throw this stuff in your washer if that’s okay?”

Sam notices the tiniest flush in Dean’s cheeks, and the sight squeezes his heart in his rib cage. Dean doesn’t think he deserves a life like this.

“Yep,” Donna replies, a bright smile gracing her freshly scrubbed and freckle-dusted face. “Right down the hall.”

“Alrighty then. Lead the way,” Dean says, following Donna to her laundry room.

Sam heaves a sigh before wandering to the small bookshelf in the corner for something to read.

Dean has nightmares almost every time he closes his eyes. Last night, he had a different kind of dream.

Donna was there, her soft blonde waves were piled on top of her head. Her fingers were floured and her big flannel shirt was dusted just the same. She laughed at his jokes and hummed through her smile when he wrapped his arms around her from behind. She smelled like butter and vanilla.

When he wakes, Sam’s already up and out of the room. A low light sneaks through the curtains, and Dean smells coffee. He rolls out of bed, runs his fingers through his hair, and makes his way to the bathroom across the hall.

“Dean, hey.”

Dean cocks his head and squints because it’s too damn early for pleasantries. It’s Kaia, though, and Dean owes that girl a lot of pleasant.

“Hey, kid. When’d you get in?” He turns toward her and she steps into his arms for a hug.

“‘Bout an hour ago,” she replies. “Claire’s in the kitchen.”

“‘Kay,” Dean answers pulling out of the hug with a lopsided smile. “Be there in a minute.”

Kaia nods and shuffles past him. “There’s coffee and french toast.”

“Nice,” Dean grunts, pushing through the bathroom door and switching the light on. When he sees his reflection, he groans. “Christ.”

His eyes are puffy and his hair’s sticking out in nine different directions. He shakes his head and sighs before taking care of business. Dean definitely puts the seat back down, washes his hands, and splashes his face and hair with water.

Before heading to the kitchen, he makes his bed and changes into his own clothes. As he shrugs into his flannel, he realizes it’s the one from his dream. The one Donna was wearing — his shirt and nothing else.

He could feel every dip and curve in his hands. She was so warm and soft. Dean’s thought about a hundred different ways to make her say his name the way she did in his dream. He can still hear her breathy voice in his head as he walks the length of the hallway toward the bright kitchen.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Donna greets him first, and his skin flushes with heat.

Before he can focus too much on it, Claire sacks him without a word.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmurs, holding her close. He isn’t exactly the picture of emotional growth, but since Cas… well, he’s trying to be more present.

Dean closes his eyes and buries his nose in her messy hair. She’s been smoking, and probably drinking by the looks of it. “Takin’ care of yourself?” He pulls back, gripping her shoulders and looking her in the eyes.

Her smile is crooked, and her blue eyes are shot red and rimmed with black, but she’s still the strong little girl from Illinois whose daddy loved God enough to leave her.

Claire shrugs. “More’r less.”

Dean huffs a wry laugh, squeezing her shoulders before releasing her. “Sounds about right.”

“Heeeyyy.” Jody and Alex round the island to greet him with hugs and Patience isn’t far behind.

“Coffee?” Jody asks.

“Absolutely. I also heard there was french toast. Or did I miss it?” He turns to find Donna extending a plate heaped with carbs, and a steaming cup of joe. “Awesome.”

He accepts the proffered items from Donna with a hearty thanks.

Jody and the girls retreat to the dining room where Sam sits, doing a crossword puzzle. He looks up and Dean nods a good morning to him before sliding onto a stool at the island.

“So, uhh, dollar store, huh?” He digs into his breakfast, trying not to ogle Donna’s ass in her cute little red and white snowflake leggings. The phrase ‘thick thighs save lives’ will be stuck in his head for the rest of his stay here and he isn’t mad about it.

Donna nods as she turns to face him with her own cup of coffee. “And if I give you a list, can you pick up some wine?”

Dean bobs his head as he chews and his eyes roll back. “Oh, yeah... Yes, anything. Holy shit, this is good.” He’s momentarily distracted from objectifying his hostess by the un-fucking-believable french toast.

Donna chuckles, jutting a hip against the island. “Family recipe. Just like the smorgasbord for tonight.” She sips her coffee and watches him devour the rest of the meal in silence but for Dean’s moans and groans of satisfaction.

How many times has Donna thought about this? About Dean Winchester sitting at her kitchen island eating a breakfast and coffee that she made? About him enjoying it?

Experts say that good food and good sex share neural pathways. That a person’s reaction to good food is similar to their reactions to good sex. That theory takes on a whole new level of wow when applied to Dean.

Dean drains his mug and wipes his mouth.

“More... anything?” Donna asks innocently -- or so she thinks.

Until Dean’s gaze flicks to hers for a hot minute. She could write his hesitation off as morning brain, but then he drops his gaze to her mouth. He licks his bottom lip into his mouth then slowly drags it through his teeth.

Donna’s breath catches in her chest and her insides flip.

“Hey, so, we should hit that dollar store, and I think Donna wants us to grab a few bottles of wine, right?”

Sam realizes a beat too late that he’s walked in on something; Dean looks ready to attack and Donna’s cheeks are fuchsia. The younger Winchester’s gaze bounces around the tension between Dean and Donna before he clears his throat.

Dean blinks a couple of times and shakes his head. “Yeah... yeah, uhh...” He draws a deep breath and looks back up at Donna. “Got that list?”

Donna gnaws at the corner of her anxious grin. “Oh, yeah. I’ll text it to ya.”

Dean nods and pushes out of his barstool. The brothers find their boots and coats in the front closet. As they walk out the door, Donna calls from the kitchen.

“Oh, and Dean? When you get back, you need to help me find that mistletoe.”

The screen door slams shut behind them, and Sam laughs.

Chapter Two

Please don’t leave without telling me what you think!

#dean winchester fic #dean x donna #donna hanscum fic

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