I hope the velvet room in the next persona game is just an empty room. Make whatever psychological interpretation from that that you will. No fancy “welcome to the velvet room.” I just want it to be a big ass warehouse or something, blue tinted, completely empty with Igor sitting on an upside-down bucket and when you walk in he just says “hey, man”
Bitty is lounging on the
couch in Jack’s apartment when his phone buzzes and Chowder’s sweet face
appears. Jack’s asleep already. The life of a professional athlete such as he
is. He’s intense about his schedule and maintaining it. Bitty however, is a bit
more lax about it all, so he’s downstairs, flipping through channels since he’s
not tired yet. He can guess why Chowder is calling. The Sharks are tied in the
series for the Stanley Cup Final. Chowder has called him after every game to
either cheer or weep.
Bitty swipes the screen
and answers. “Good game tonight, eh?” Bitty’s picked up a few of Jack’s
sayings. Shitty absolutely loves it. He sometimes calls Bitty and demands “Say
eh! Please! I need a pick me up. Fucking law school.” Bitty always obliges.
Jack says Shitty calls him and demands to hear some of Bitty’s Southern phrases
in what Shitty calls “Jack’s dulcet Canadian tones”.
Chowder is out of breath.
Probably from running around the block in celebration. “I’m gonna propose to
her. When they win,” he exclaims. His voice is excited and kind of hoarse.
Bitty sits straight.
“Farmer. Caitlin. I’m
gonna propose when the Sharks win.” The absolute joy in Chowder’s voice is just
adorable. But Bitty is too shocked by this news to really appreciate it.
“WHAT?!” he finally
Chowder laughs, assuming
that Bitty is as excited by this plan as he is.
Jack appears, blinking
against the light, wearing nothing but a pair of baggy shorts and a confused
frown. “Bitty. What the hell?” he whispers.
Bitty just holds up a
finger and shoots him a look that screams, “Do not question me right now, Mr.
Jack holds up his hands
and slides into the chair opposite. He kind of wants to see this play out.
Also, he’s still confused as hell as to what’s even going on.
“It’ll be great, Bitty,”
Chowder begins his explanation. “Farmer will be here tomorrow and Game 7 is the
day after that. We’re going to have a big party to watch and it’ll be great.”
Bitty is just shaking his
head now. “Oh, no. Oh no, no, no, no, no. You listen to me right now,
Christopher Chow. If you propose to Caitlin Farmer at a party full of rowdy
Sharks fans during the Stanley Cup Final, you will never get another pie from
Jack’s eyebrows shoot up
and he blinks a few times before a slight smile appears.
“But, Bitty,” Chowder
begins to argue.
“No, you listen to me.
Caitlin Farmer is a wonderful, beautiful, amazing woman. And she deserves
better than a proposal surrounded by drunken sports fans. This is like a jumbotron
proposal. Don’t you do it, Chris. Don’t do the most cliché thing imaginable.”
Jack’s laughing now.
Well, not so much laughing as shaking a bit silently while trying not to
“I love her, Bitty. I
want to do this,” Chowder finally says after a long silence. His voice isn’t
overly happy now. Now it’s nervous and soft.
“Chowder. Don’t put her
on the spot in front of a bunch of strangers.”
“My family will be
there,” he attempts to argue.
Bitty sighs. “That’s
intimidating. Imagine being proposed to in front of a bunch of people who
absolutely adore the proposer. Caitlin is a very laid back girl. She can handle
a lot. But you can’t do it like that.”
There is an exhaled
breath of defeat from Chowder. “I just want to marry her, Bitty. Isn’t that
Jack makes a gesture to
put the call on speaker and Bitty eyes him, wondering what’s going on in his
gorgeous head. But he does it all the same because he trusts this beautifully
“Hey, Chowder,” Jack
“Jack! Hey! Bitty said he
was gonna visit you for a few days. I’m kind of jealous. You guys get to do so
much cool stuff together,” Chowder starts rambling like he always does when
talking to Jack.
Jack smiles. “So what’s
going on? Proposing to Farmer?”
Chowder sighs again.
“Bitty thinks it’s a bad idea.” The pain is clear. He just wants Bitty to
approve of his plan.
“Well, what’s your idea?”
“I wanted to propose to
her after the Sharks win the Stanley Cup.”
Jack’s face relaxes into
that smirk of his that Bitty both loves and hates. “Ah. Well, I have to agree
with Bitty on this one, Chowder. It’d be like proposing to her at an
Epikegster. Everyone will be drunk and keyed up and she’ll feel obligated to
say yes. Do you want her to say yes because she feels she has to? Wouldn’t you
rather she says yes because she really wants to?”
The silence at the other
end has Bitty fidgeting nervously. This is his sweet baby Chowder. He just
wants the little goalie to be happy. As happy as he is with Jack.
“Yeah. You’re right,
Jack,” says Chowder, his hoarse voice quiet and less chipper now.
Jack’s still smiling
however. “Hey, Bitty. Mind if I take this from here?”
Bitty eyes his boyfriend
with distrust. “What are you planning?” he whispers quietly.
Jack winks. Normally this
makes Bitty swoon, but right now, it just makes him more suspicious. “Fine,” he
stands. “But I’ll be in the kitchen. Waiting.”
Bitty scoots out of the
room as Jack takes Chowder off speaker phone. His boyfriend is speaking too
quietly into the electronic for Bitty to eavesdrop so with a huff, he slumps to
the kitchen and pulls out the ingredients for pie. He’s too wound up to sleep
so late night baking it is. To Bitty’s immense surprise, Jack doesn’t come into
the kitchen until four hours later. He’s grinning and looks happy if not a bit
tired since it’s now the middle of the night and Jack Zimmermann has a schedule,
y’all. One he does not deviate from.
“Good Lord, babe. What
did you and Chowder talk about for four hours?”
Jack shrugs. “Just some
stuff,” he answers, purposely vague. He doesn’t manage to hide the slight
sparkle of mischief in his blue eyes before he pulls Bitty into his embrace.
“What did you do?” Bitty
mumbles, his words muffled by Jack’s chest.
“Do you think you could
make a bunch of pie before Friday? Six should be good. Think you can handle
that?” his boyfriend asks. Bitty glares and scoffs. Of course he can make six
pies before Friday. Who does this handsome fool think he’s dealing with? Bitty
ain’t no amateur. Bitty is about to make that clear, as well as grill Jack on
what he’s been doing for the past several hours with Chowder, when Jack kisses
him in that way he does and Bitty sort of forgets his own name.
On Friday, Jack loads the
pies into his car and Bitty eyes him but he doesn’t ask. He’s been grilling
Jack for days. But Jack Zimmermann is like a vault when he wants to keep a
secret. Nothing, absolutely nothing (and Lord did Bitty try everything) would
get that boy to talk. Thankfully, Jack
did convince Chowder not to propose after the final. The Sharks won. Farmer
sent a video of Chowder sobbing with joy in front of the TV before grabbing a
sparkler (from God knows where) and running through his parent’s neighborhood
in full Shark regalia scream singing “WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, MY FRIEND!” The
whole team had a good laugh. Everyone chirped Chowder but the goalie was too
happy to even care. He just sent a few “thank you” response texts.
Bitty continues to say
nothing as he and Jack drive down to Samwell and pull up in front of Faber.
Jack is trying to look innocent which only makes him look more guilty.
“What are we doing here?”
Bitty questions, eyes narrowed.
Jack just climbs out.
They grab the pies and walk
into the quiet rink. A janitor winks at Jack as they pass and Bitty just
frowns. What is his boyfriend planning? Bitty is even more surprised when they
see who is waiting in the benches.
“Bitty and Jack!” Shitty calls from the bench.
“I’ve missed this fucking place.”
“Shitty was just telling
us that he thinks you guys should have a round of naked hockey,” Lardo laughs
and Shitty winks at her. She rolls her eyes.
“Dude. Naked hockey
sounds way too dangerous for uh, certain parts of me,” Ransom flinches.
Dex and Nursey are arguing
as usual but Nursey smiles and gets Dex in a light headlock which makes Dex
laugh and roll his eyes. Everyone is happy to see the pies. Shitty especially. “OH
GODS OF FOOD AND LOVE! I HAVE MISSED THIS!” he crows before immediately
claiming an apple pie from the stack in Jack’s arms.
Bitty eyes the group and
the bags at their feet and sides. “What’s all this?”
Ransom grins. “Jack had
us grab some stuff on our way in.”
Shitty steps forward,
eating his previously claimed pie with his hands. “So what now, Zimmermann?”
Jack smiles and immediately
starts giving orders and the gathered team sets to work. Soon the ice has
flower petals making a path to the goal beneath the massive windows. There are
candles along the edges. There is soft music playing through the speakers. And
on the score board, the names displayed are Chow and Farmer.
“Oh my God,” Bitty
exhales once he realizes what’s happening. Jack just smiles. He doesn’t say a
word. Instead, he keeps checking his phone.
As the sun is about to
set, Jack’s phone buzzes. “Alright! Everyone hide!”
The group ducks behind
the boards of the bench. Bitty finds himself squashed in between Holster and
Shitty. Shitty takes this moment to pull Bitty into a busting hug. “Man, I’ve
missed you, Bits. Say eh! Please!”
Bitty sighs. “Eh,” he
says. Shitty laughs silently.
The team watches, peeking
over the edge of the boards as inconspicuously as possible, as a very nervous
looking Chowder leads Farmer out onto the ice. Luckily, Farmer has her back to
the boards and doesn’t see the seven sets of eyes, watching silently. Farmer is
laughing and making jokes. “You went to all this trouble to commemorate that
time we did it on the ice? I don’t have a blanket this time. We can’t have sex
on the ice without a blanket, babe.”
Holster and Ransom hear
this and high five silently. “Get it, Chowder,” Holster whispers.
Shitty just smiles and
wipes away fake tears. “They grow up so fast.”
Bitty just watches as
Chowder mumbles and stumbles, so clearly nervous. Bitty sees Jack, hidden but
still videoing the moment.
“So, I’m doing this here
because this is where I realized I love you and told you and,” Chowder starts
to ramble. He’s clearly terrified and Bitty just smiles. Farmer looks confused
but she’s still looking at Chowder like he’s the most wonderful thing in the
world. “After that game against Yale. I realized I loved you and I was so
afraid because I’m well, not that cool, and you’re so amazing. And I was going
to do this after the Sharks won.”
“Go Sharks!” Farmer
cheers and it takes everything for the group watching not to make cute “Aw!”
Chowder beams and Bitty
is just floored at how romantic this is. The first place Chowder realized he
loved her. The first place he told her that he loved her. The setting sun
casting a gorgeous pink and orange hue on the ice. Bitty feels a moment of
jealousy. This was the proposal he thought he’d get from Jack.
“Caitlin Farmer,” Chowder
takes a knee and the gasp from Farmer is loud. “Will you marry me?”
There is a long moment of
silence. Chowder glances around, clearly terrified. “Um. Caitlin?” he presses.
“Yes!” Farmer shrieks
finally. “Oh my God, yes!”
She tackles Chowder onto
the ice and the group all stands and cheers. Lardo is wiping tears. Shitty is
openly crying and shouting, “Fucking beautiful, man!”
Ransom and Holster are
the first on the ice. They high five Chowder, telling him how proud they are.
And impressed. Ice sex is cold and challenging. Who’d of thought that Chowder
had it in him? Dex and Nursey tackle Chowder in a bear hug.
Jack turns off his camera
and stands next to Bitty. They’re both watching the chaos. Farmer is asking
Chowder for a long engagement. They’ll get married after they graduate, okay?
Chowder agrees. Someone mentions pizza. Shitty mentions a celebratory kegster. Bitty
“Thank you for helping
Chowder,” Bitty finally says to Jack. “I love that sweet kid.”
“I know. That’s why I did
it.” The admission makes Bitty melt a little. And here he thought it was impossible
to fall more in love with this man. Though there is something that is still
bothering him a little…
Bitty nudges Jack as they
all begin the walk out. “I didn’t know you could be so romantic,” he jokes,
though still sort of sad that Chowder got HIS proposal.
Jack slows his walk and
the rest of the group moves on, leaving him and Bitty farther back, well out of
earshot. “I learned from the best,” he kisses Bitty’s hair.
“I always thought,” Bitty
begins but his voice tapers off and he can’t quite finish what he was going to
Bitty sighs. “I thought
that you’d propose to me like that. You know? On the ice, with the sunset.”
Jack tenses. For a
moment, Bitty wonders if he’s pushed Jack too far too soon. But really. They’ve
been together for a while. It’s only natural that Bitty’s mind would go there. But then Jack’s eyes soften and
his lips quirk up and he looks superior. He pulls Bitty into a long, drawn out
kiss. The kind of kiss that makes Bitty wish they were in a much more private
place. Or at least had a blanket. Good point, Farmer.
“Don’t worry, Bitty,”
Jack says, his breath warm on Bitty’s mouth. “I didn’t use all my romantic
cards tonight. I have something better planned for you.”
With that, Jack pulls
away and begins to walk down the hallway, leaving a blushing, hot Bitty to
recover. It doesn’t take long. “Jack Laurent Zimmermann,” Bitty snaps as he
rushes to catch the long legged stride of his boyfriend. “You can’t just say
things like that and walk away! Good Lord.”
Jack just laughs and
Bitty slaps him on his glorious ass, making Jack laugh more.
Title: Blue Monday Pairing: Josh Dun/Reader Rating:Very Mature Warnings: Dirty talk, spanking, choking, super kinky raunchy jealous Josh. There’s blindfolding, toys, handcuffs, aaaand name calling, because I don’t know how to be normal. A/N: SURPRISE. I’m so terribly sorry I haven’t written any Josh stuff in a while, I’ve been working like a dog to get this one finished. Like I said, it’s pretty kinky and fun, so I really hope you guys like it. Also, blue haired Josh is tops, so that’s what I was imagining the whole time. Thanks to @bringbacktomdelonge for helping me stay focused.
Summary: Stiles likes being Cora’s roommate, but he’s pretty
sure her brother is hitting on him.
Notes: Inspired by this post. I’m not really into the sugar
daddy thing, so I went a different direction with this. (On AO3)
Stiles is sitting at a picnic table in the shade, trying to
get some studying done, when he hears someone calling his name. He looks up
just in time to see Scott grin and say, “Hey, man!” as he sits down across from
Stiles smiles and shuts his book, eager for the chance to
take a break.
“So, how’s it going?” Scott asks, leaning his arms on the
table like he’s ready to settle in. “I know you were sad about having to move
in with someone new, after I started living with Allison. So what’s it like,
being roommates with Cora?”
Ok Jeremy, it’s no big deal. He’s just your best friend. Your best friend that you have a crush on? Fuck. Ok ok, you’re fine. Just go up to him and tell him how you feel. It’s fine.
Jeremy massaged his left hand with his right thumb, a nervous tick he had formed from his anxiety over talking to people. It never happened when he wanted to talk to Michael, yet here he was, rubbing his palm in a soothing circular motion as he tried to steady his breathing.
He blinks, scrubbing at the corners of his eyes. There’s a suspiciously crusty stain on the inside of his bedspread; it isn’t white, but it’s not not white, either. He doesn’t know which pledge had laundry duty last week, but he thinks it was probably Goyle. Goyle always forgets to add detergent. Possibly, Goyle isn’t actually aware he’s supposed to add detergent.
Marcus rolls over. His tongue is sticking to the roof of his mouth, and his throat feels dry and rough and a little like he might’ve accidentally gargled paint thinner. A strange burning sensation is piercing his gut; if he concentrates, he can almost trace it back to a gently pulsating spot between his tonsils.
Swallowing hurts a lot.
He vows not to try that again, and then idly wonders if he’s getting sick. That would suck. Hooch is picking captains at the end of the week, and Marcus would really enjoy stripping that fuzzy felt “C” off Wood’s jersey. Especially now. Especially after three months of silence and stupid passive aggressive Snap stories featuring way too many fishing boats. And lakes. And sad, ugly, shirtless Canadian bros who definitely didn’t need to, like, molest Wood so thoroughly.
Marcus’s stomach rumbles.
He instinctively swipes at his teeth with the tip of his tongue.
A/N: I’ve been on Tumblr for about six months and in that time I’ve been lucky enough to meet some very lovely people. A few of them have become close friends and this fic is for three of them @wheresthekillswitch@pinknerdpanda@arryn-nyxx
Ladies it has been four months since we started our little chats and at this point I can’t picture my life without you! This idea has been in my brain for a while and, thanks to my abundant excitement for Wayward Sisters, I finally got it out! Yay!
This is unbeta’d so please be gentle.
“Y/N are you pouting? Lee flicks her eyes to the rear view
mirror, waiting for Y/N to look up.
“No,” Y/N grumbles.
“She’s pissed she lost again,” Manda laughs, next to Lee.
“It’s stupid, anyway. How does paper beat rock?”
“You’ll win eventually,” Arryn pats Y/N’s arm.
“How ‘bout I let you pick the music?” Lee offers.
Y/N perks up. “Really?”
“Sure.” Lee lifts her shoulders keeping her hands on
the wheel, just as Manda and Arryn yell, “No!”
“Rick Astley!” Y/N grabs at the auxiliary cord.
“I take it back!” Lee says.
“Too late, bitches!” Y/N laughs as she scrolls
through her phone.
This is why “Never Gonna Give You Up” is blasting when the
four women pull up to the abandoned house.
“You couldn’t have been in a Breaking Benjamin mood?” Lee
grumbles as they climb out of the Jeep.
Y/N laughs then turns to Arryn and asks, “So what’s the deal
with this place again?”
“Standard haunting,” Arryn says. “Mostly people
running away, scared out of their minds, but some have gone missing. Simple
salt and burn and then beer.”
They chuckle as Manda opens the back of the Jeep.
Rifling through until she finds her pistol, putting it in the waist of her
jeans before grabbling another. She passes it to Arryn while Y/N grabs a
“That’s so impractical, Y/N,” Manda says. “You have to
reload all the time.”
“Lucky for me I’m fast.” Y/N grins, adding rounds to
her hip pack, “Besides, bigger salt dispersal diameter,” she says, dropping it
against her shoulder.
“You just need to be a better shot, Y/N,” Arryn teases.
Manda shakes her head as she hands Lee a crowbar. “And
you could use a gun sometime, you know?”
“What does she need a gun for?” Arryn chimes in.
“Yeah, her entire body is a weapon,” Y/N adds, laughing.
“Alright, let’s go.” Lee starts off and the other
three trail after her.
Every footfall elicits a crack or a creak from the
dilapidated porch as they make their way to the front door. Lee kicks it
in and the four women file inside.
“Teams of two. Y/N you’re with me, c’mon.” Lee starts
up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
“You don’t have to run everywhere,” Y/N calls after her.
“Start on the main floor?” Manda asks.
“Lead the way.” Arryn cuts the air with her flattened
Thank you for the prompt! This probably isn’t exactly what you had in mind, but I hope
you like it! (On AO3)
Stiles has a long history of hanging out in this hospital.
He’d practically lived in the waiting room when Lydia had gotten very sick
sophomore year, with Jackson right beside him, pretending he wasn’t scared. And
he’d been there pretty often junior year, when Danny had his appendix removed,
followed by the time his dad had been stabbed on the job.
So being here now is practically routine to Stiles.
Everything is almost comfortingly familiar, from the terrible cafeteria food to
the pervasive antiseptic smell.
Ok, so like if they had done an actual cap 3 instead of cw where sam and steve went after bucky and you go to write how that would go down, how would you have had the reunion/recovery go? do you think bucky would' want to be found?
I’m on mobile so I’ll have to format this later and put a read more in, but here’s what I would have wanted. Again, it’s long, I’ve thought about this at length.
We would have seen Steve and Sam, probably in Sam’s apartment reading and rereading files, crossing out leads, there’s a map with locations marked and also crossed out, Sam’s on the phone about another possible lead. Steve looks kinda defeated, it’s been 2 years and still he feels like they’re no closer than they were in 2014. Sam hangs up the phone, sits down next to Steve and says something like “Hey man, when he wants to be found then we’ll find him, and I got a pretty promising lead in Romania that says tin man is ready.” And Steve’s all “Sam, you gotta stop calling him tin man” - but he’s already collecting stuff to get ready to leave. And Sam’s close behind him like “Fine, how’s Robocop? Terminator? Man with the Midas touch?” “His arm isn’t gold Sam, can we go?”
Hey! I absolutely love your writing, and I thought of a prompt that feels perfect for Stucky--Steve and Bucky are on a Work Retreat with Work Friends and after a few drinks end up back in one of their rooms, on the verge of hooking up. Only, just then Mutual Friend Sam knocks on the door, but (oh no!) neither Steve nor Bucky can remember what room they're in and so can't figure out who should respond. Maybe Sam knows? And is messing with them? TIA, you're fantastic <3
I decided to do Steve and Bucky as sober instead of tipsy because I just like to write consent to be very, very clear!
Steve takes a seat next to Bucky at the bar. “This taken?” he asks.
“It is by your presumptive ass,” Bucky says. “You want a drink?”
“Ginger ale?” Steve asks.
“What me to ask ‘em for a shot of something? Some grenadine, perhaps?” Bucky asks, gesturing to his own Shirley Temple.
“That’s a little wild, Barnes. Not sure if I’m up to it,” Steve says.
“Aw, c’mon, live a little,” Bucky says. He gestures to the bartender. “Can I get my buddy a Shirley Temple? Extra cherries, and put it on my tab,” he says.
The bartender nods and gets to work.
“How’s everyone doing?” Steve asks.
“Sam’s fine, Maria is gettin’ into an argument with Dum Dum, but that’s par for the course. You wanna know how I’m doin’?” Bucky asks, wagging his brows a few times.
Steve rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t take a genius to see that you’re fine,” he says.
Bucky raises his eyebrows. “So you think I’m fine?” he asks.
The bartender sets Steve’s drink down in front of him. “I, I didn’t say that!” Steve stutters out. The bartender snorts and Steve shoots her a look, but thanks her anyway because Sarah Rogers raised a son with manners.
“Anyhow, what’s on the agenda for tonight?” Bucky asks. “Got another executive session planned?”
Steve sighs. “As a matter of fact, I do not,” he says, taking a sip of his Shirley Temple.
Bucky hums in agreement, and surveys the bar. “Seems like a chill night,” he says.
“Sure does. Think everyone needs some rest after the awesome team building exercises we did today.”
Bucky looks over at Steve through the corner of his eye. “You’re jokin’, right?” he asks.
Steve grins. “‘Course I am,” he says.
Bucky laughs. “Jeez, the sober corner got a lot more fun when you joined the firm.”
“Did it?” Steve asks.
He nods. “Yeah, it did.”
Steve had been worried about the vibe at the new firm when he first got here. His last job was… pretty booze-heavy, and the fact of the matter is that Steve doesn’t like to drink. Never has, never will. It took all of ten minutes to find Bucky sitting at the corner of the bar with a Shirley Temple — his usual poison — and great conversation. Bucky’s been sober since he was eighteen for reasons that he doesn’t talk about, and the two started hanging out during office retreats. Then they started hanging out at the office. Now, Steve just wishes they could take their hang-outs to the next level.
“Hey,” Bucky says. “If I ask you to come hang out in my room do you gotta fill out some paperwork?”
“What?” Steve asks.
“Let’s ditch this place and go hang out in my room,” Bucky says.
Steve’s heart starts pounding and he throws back his drink in a few gulps. “Let’s go,” he says.
“Was that some weird macho shit?” Bucky asks.
Steve rolls his eyes. “I just didn’t want to waste your money.”
Bucky leans in. “Steve, buddy,” he says, voice going low. “It’s on the company’s dime.”
The walk to Bucky’s room is pretty short and Steve spends it with his hands in his pockets, heart beating fast in his chest. Bucky unlocks the door and opens it for Steve. “After you,” he says.
Steve walks into the room. It looks the same as his generic hotel room, but knowing that Bucky’s spent the past few nights in here sends a little thrill up Steve’s spine.
“Sorry,” Bucky says. “Was kinda goin’ nuts out there. By the end of these retreats I just get a little sick of everyone.”
“Did you want to be alone?” Steve asks, managing to keep the disappointment out of his voice.
“No, I wanna hang out with you,” Bucky says. “Unless you wanna go,” he says, futzing with something on the table and not looking at Steve.
“I want to be where you are,” Steve says, maybe a little too honest.
But then Bucky looks up at him with a smile. “Yeah?” he asks.
“You may not have noticed, but I really like you,” Steve says.
“You’re gonna have to be more clear than that,” Bucky says. “Don’t think HR will take ‘really like you’ as an official relationship designation.”
“How about, I’ve been wanting you to ask me out since we met?” Steve says, standing straight and hoping for the best.
“So, boyfriend?” Bucky asks.
“That’s a little presumptuous, but sure,” Steve says. “Boyfriend works.”
“Boyfriend,” Bucky says, moving across the room, closer to Steve. “Hi boyfriend,” he says, coming so close that he’s almost flush against Steve’s chest.
“Hi,” Steve says, leaning down and wrapping an arm around Bucky’s back. “Why don’t we…” he says, pressing his lips to Bucky’s.
Their kiss is amazing and slow and the sexiest thing that’s ever happened to Steve.
And it’s cut off too soon by a knock at the door.
“Fuck,” Bucky says.
“Don’t answer it,” Steve says.
“BUCKY,” says a loud voice on the other side of the door.
“Sam,” they say in unison.
Bucky sighs and detaches himself from Steve. Steve frowns, but doesn’t complain when he does.
Bucky walks over to the door and opens it up, part of the way, not enough to let Sam see Steve. “Hey man,” he says. “What’s up?”
“We need a ride to Taco Bell, wanna soak up some of this poison. You game?”
“Oh, uh, I’m a little busy right now.”
“Don’t be like that, Bucky. Take us to Taco Bell!”
And that’s when Steve walks up behind Bucky. “Take an Uber,” he says, then gently pulls Bucky out the way and closes the door.
He can hear Sam whoop as he and Bucky kiss again, this time for real.
So @gryffindorkwinchester and @endgame-sterek were talking about protester!Derek trying to save the wolves, and my little
biologist heart couldn’t resist, so I wrote a little something. I have no idea
how local government works, so just pretend with me, please. While we’re at it,
let’s also pretend wolves still live in northern California.
Prompt: Cass goes to buy a Valentine’s gift for Dean and ends up coming home with lingerie.
“This is bull shit.”
Cas’ eyes flickered up at Dean’s forlorn expression. “What do you mean?”
Dean grumbled, brow furrowed and scratched the back of his neck, awkward. “I just…am I loosing it Cas? Am I getting old or something?” A beat. “Dean, I’m millennia older than you. My perspective might not be one you can really measure. To me all human’s are young.”
Dean huffed. “How is it Sam is the one out shacking up with girls all the time and I’m the one home alone drinkin’ myself stupid on Valentine’s day.”
“I met St Valentine…he was quiet the chauvinist. Not a nice a you human’s make out…”
“Cas…” Dean sighed. Cas narrowed his eyes and tried to concentrate on how to lightened Dean’s mood.
“I’m sorry you have to spend Valentine’s Day with me Dean.” he tried. But it only seemed to make Dean’s frown deepen.
“Hey don’t say that man…” He murmured patting his hand and rising to the fridge to search for more beer. “Hey maybe me and you should do somethin’ tomorrow. Both of being single. Maybe we can have another crack at loosing your virginity eh? I don’t think April counts.” he laughed a twinkle in his eyes at Cas’ stunned expression. “Hey, don’t look so scared. I promise this time there will be no angel blades in sight.”
“I’m uh…I’m looking for a Valentines day gift? It’s for…” The sales assistant grinned knowingly. “I know just the thing! Follow me Sir.”
“Cas!?” Dean called as he shut the bunker door. Silence. He frowned jogging down the steps. “Hey!? You around buddy?”
Then came a wavering reply, a cracked voice. “Your room!”
Dean frowned. His room. He was…why would he…
Dean came to his door and opened it.
“Cas why…HOLY SHIT!”
They both stood for a while in silence, Dean shocked still and Cas blushing.
“I um…the girl at the store said they would suit uh…blue eyes and dark hair.” he rubbed the sapphire silk and lace between his thumb and forefinger. A lacy little nighty number and matching thigh highs and something Dean couldn’t see yet, matching panties.
Dean’s eyes snapped up away from Cas’ body.
“I-Yeah, that’s great Cas and why are you wearing them.”
Cas was confused. “You told me…we should do something. And that I should try to loose my…”
“Christ, Cas I mean we go and…FIND some one for you.”
And then Cas went pale and his cheeks flamed red, he covered his face and sank onto the edge of Dean’s bed desperately trying to tug the blanket from under himself to cover up. His arms were visibly trembling and it honestly made Dean’s heart pang painfully.
“Hey…Hey man…calm down it o-”
Cas shrugged him off as he tried to give him a reassuring touch on the shoulder. He kept his face bowed the shadows hiding his face.
“Dean please let me have my dignity and leave, I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one night.”
“Come on Cas, don’t be…”
Cas lifted his face he briefly met Dean’s eyes and Dean melted. Fuck, Cas looked so damn heartbroken. Those big sad puppy eyes in full effect, the ones that made Dean wanna kill whatever had put that pain there triple-fold. Dean crouched in front of him.
“I look ridiculous. You think I look ridiculous.” his voice was soft, barley there.
“I never said that.”
Their eyes met and Dean swallowed. “You said you didn’t mean that you wanted to-”
“No…but honestly man only because I didn’t think you were into me like that.”
Cas nodded and twiddled his thumbs nervously.
“Cas?” The angel met his eyes, looking younger and more innocent than Dean had seen him in a long time. “Did you want that? Did you want me?”
He nodded and Dean kept their gaze steady. “Good.” he breathed.
And he leaned up and kissed Cas hard and bruising and sending him back into the mattress. “’Cause you look so fucking hot in this silky shit.”
His hands brushed Cas’ sides and Cas gasped eyes rolling back and shivering. “Dean…”
Dean’s hand brushes back up, hiking up the material and revealing the surprise underneath.
A noise, something deep and guttural came from Dean’s throat.
“Holy shit Cas.”
He kisses Cas’ lips one more time and then his lips continued a downaward journey.
A/N: Hey anon! Guess what? I finally wrote your request and to be honest I’m not totally sure this is what you wanted😩your request was quite broad so I tried to fill in the gaps, thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!💖 if you’re not happy with this one just pop me another request with some specific details!✨
Warnings: Swearing - a lot 🙃
MASTERLIST: Hey come and check out some of my other mildly average writing!
Shawn says, leaning on the back of the door, throwing his head back and then slipping down the hard wood. His behind finds the floor and he groans, closing his eyes. “I’m fucked” he changes, now palming his hair. He dishevels the curls, pulling them from his scalp.
He then turns to you, looking up at you from the closet floor. His eyes are angry, frustrated and disappointed – a sudden switch from his previous happiness and excitement.
“This show is fucked” he concludes. The words are left thick in the air and they hang there – sitting amongst the dust before he slams his head back against the wood, disrupting them from their place in the oxygen.
You look down at him from near the door and you cross your arms, tightening the lanyard around the back of your neck.
“No it isn’t” you say even though it totally is. You’re in a random closet in the middle of the Staples Centre, Los Angeles. There’s no phone – they’re in his dressing room – and Shawn is meant to be on stage in 15 minutes.
“So, single replacement or displacement reaction. In this type of reaction, a more active element replaces a less active element in a compound.
” Mr. Rodriguez explained.
Hands slightly cramping, I scribbled down notes as quickly as possible so that I wouldn’t miss anything important. I was completely engrossed in chemical reactions when I felt a tap on my shoulder. A string of curses ran through my mind as I lost my train of thought. I shook my head, ignored the tap, and continued with my work.