phone from car

I Got This

Title:  I Got This

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Summary:  Dean’s use of a pick up line may have gotten him into more trouble than he bargained for.

Characters:  Dean Winchester x female reader, Sam Winchester

Word Count:  2978

Warnings:  Canon typical violence, language, additional warnings beneath the cut to avoid spoilers

Author’s Notes:  Written for @impalaimagining Cheesy Pick Up Line Challenge. Congrats on 4,000! My line was “I lost my phone number, can I have yours?” This contains one of those cliched searches through a decrepit, abandoned building. This got away from me a little.

**My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.**

Originally posted by sincerelysaraahh

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Yui: What do you guys say when you answer the phone?

Shu: “What up?”

Laito: “Who dis be?”

Ayato: “No, she’s dead. This is her son.”

7 Years: Part 8

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: It’s been 7 years since you walked away from the love of your life.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

The car ride was filled with idle chat and exchanged chuckles. The nervousness that both parties have felt in the beginning started to fade away. They both were starting to become comfortable again. 

Bucky drove up to a restaurant that you realized was in the upper side of town. You looked at him wide eyed with questioning gaze. He smiled in amusement, “I have connections, doll. Don’t worry. A friend owed me a favor.”

Your door opened as the valet came into view offering a hand to help you out. you thanked him as your feet hit the pavement. Bucky came to your side and you hooked your arm around his looking at the restaurant, “Okay, who exactly is your friend?” You asked walking in.

Bucky smiled then greeted the hostess at the podium, “Good evening. Reservations for Barnes?”

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Of Flora, Fauna, and Fondness

Pairing: Dean/Cas

Summary: AU in which you work at a botanical garden and when I go, I get stung by a bee and have an allergic reaction and you accompany me to the hospital

Read on {AO3}

How the hell did I draw the short straw on this one? Dean questions as he bats the length of a giant leaf away from his face. It’s probably the tenth one he’s run into in this exhibit alone , the Mediterranean section of the botanical gardens. It was the 75th anniversary of the gardens, and somehow, Dean was the reporter that got stuck with writing the article for the paper.

Adding to the fact that Dean doesn’t know a single damn thing about plants, the gardens are currently packed to capacity with over eager tourists and their giant cameras taking photos of every freakin’ flower in the building. He has to push his way around exhausted parents with screaming kids to make it to the front desk to pick up some information for his article. The building is hot, humid, and smelly; he’s about to sweat through his jacket.

Notepad and pen in hand, Dean decides that it’s time for a break. He searches the maze of green for a bench, a chair - anything. He finally spots one across from a section of multicolored flowers when he feels a sharp sting in his arm.


He knows he shouldn’t have taken his jacket off, but it was just so damn hot in the building. He quickly glances at the area and he knows he’s been stung.

By a bee.

Which he is very allergic to.

It’s only a matter of seconds before he feels his chest tightening. He struggles to breathe and is overcome by dizziness. He makes a few staggering steps to the bench and falls into it, gripping his affected arm. He barely manages to shout a weak help due to his swollen tongue, and he knows this reaction is worse than the last time he was stung.

Dean feels a man sit down next to him, the words fading in and out.

“I’ve called…. 911…. help…coming…”

And then everything goes black.


Dean awakes later to a blindingly white hospital room. His throat feels like he’s swallowed a desert, and his arm still hurts like hell. He’s about to push the call button on his bed - if he can even find the damn thing - when a voice interrupts him.

“You’re awake.”

Dean jumps from the sudden sound. “Jesus man, no need to scare a guy like that. Almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Well,” the man counters, “if you did have one, at least you’re already in a hospital.”

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ANYWAYS ya girl was up at 3 this morning thinking abt Car Boys & junk so I went & made a playlist that I wanted to share bc Im actually proud of it it makes me happy

So just had my first ever college exam(in econ no less) and it was just stressful getting to the exam itself (the world seemed to be against me at that moment) so as I was waiting for a friend who was also taking that exam…I kinda drew some really small and quick decompression doodles.

Jax belongs to @smuggler-captain
Muhren belongs to @trashmuh
Kinstal belongs to me

Silence II

Originally posted by beui

Before you read here’s Part I

Part II of ?

Italics = Memory | Normal = present

Pairing: Reader x Yoongi

Genre: Angst

Words: 1K

It was 4AM, yoongi came crashing into the dorm fully intoxicated and pushing Namjoon continuously asking him why he introduced Y/N to him.

“What is the matter with you?” Namjoon pushed him on the nearby couch, careful not to hurt him.

The other boys exit their rooms to bear witness as Yoongi’s screaming nonsense. It’s almost a full 3 minutes before his voice got choked up by his own tears.


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tbh any other bill ship would be creepy, unhealthy, possessive, etc

but billcest? nah. happiest couple in the dimension. so cute and affectionate that your teeth will rot. totally and completely in love

because after all, theres nothing bill loves more than himself

The Grammy-nominated singer signs off in time for Mother's Day

“I would describe myself as a mother, lover, writer, and singer, but always a mother first,” said Jhené Aiko via a long distance phone call from her car, which is stationed somewhere in Los Angeles. The Grammy-nominated musician is perhaps best known for her 2015 record Sail Out and her recent collaborative album with boyfriend, the rapper Big Sean under the collective name Twenty88, but is more interested in discussing the trials and tribulations of motherhood and her love of poetry than charting her meteoric rise to fame that began over a decade ago.

Born Jhené Aiko Efuru Chilombo, the star cut her teeth singing backup for late ‘90s boy band B2K, before dropping out of a deal with Sony to release her debut album to focus on her education. “I was still a teenager and I needed to take some time to find my purpose,” she reflects. That purpose came in the form of Jhené’s first and only pregnancy to date. The singer gave birth to daughter Namiko Love at the age of 20 in 2008. “I never intended to have a baby so young, but as soon as I found out I was pregnant, I was overwhelmed with a new focus and drive. I knew I didn’t want a regular job, I wanted to provide a life for me and my daughter that was beyond myself.” Around that time, the singer made her first mixtape and it’s been a steady uphill trajectory from there.

Here, Jhené explains why motherhood will always be her biggest inspiration—and spells out why single moms in particular shouldn’t be afraid to wear the maternal pants around the house all the time if they damn well want to:


“I grew up the youngest of five children. My dad is a doctor, but an aspiring singer songwriter, so I was always around music. Living in L.A., there were so many opportunities, so it was easy for me to fall into it professionally as a young teen. I was signed to a record label until I was 16 and decided to take a break. Everything changed when I was 20 and got unexpectedly pregnant. It made me focus and connect with who I was and who I wanted to be. While Namiko was still in my belly, I did my first mixtape, signed a new record deal with Def Jam—and here we are today.”


“I’ve always loved poetry. Ever since I first started songwriting, my process begins with a short story or a poem. I carry a notebook around with me everywhere in readiness for when inspiration for a lyric or a line hits. Sometimes I’ll hear music with my words and that’s when I’ll write the melody. I hardly ever listen to other people’s music as I want to try and keep my sound as clear and original as possible. Sometimes, when I get writer’s block, I just go for a really long drive and hum in my car until something starts to resonate.”


“My daughter and my family are the driving force behind everything that I do. My baby helps me stay working and motivated all day long, seven days a week. Everyday I am inspired by my real life situation; I deal with my emotions by striving to keep creating and moving through the world with as much grace and ease as possible.”


“Whether you’re a singer or a nurse, being away from your child is one of the toughest things a mother has to do. You are their support, the person who puts food on their plate. There’s no easy way to be a mom and it can be even harder for single moms like me. I’m not with my daughter’s father, but I’m lucky that I have a large and supportive family who are loving and caring for my baby every day when I’m traveling on tour or away. The older she gets, the more she’ll be able to travel with me, but right now all I can say is—thank god for FaceTime. If anything, I hope that my story inspires other young moms to feel strong and driven. You can be responsible for your own income, provide a roof over your child’s head, be nurturing, maternal, and wear as many pants around the house as you need to. Moms—we can do it all.”


“My mom is my number one role model. To me, she is the best mom in the world. She is completely selfless. I’m also inspired by the hardworking women I see working a nine to five job everyday. Everyone is going through something and hardworking women don’t get enough recognition.”


“I think that as I get older, I get better and better at living in the moment. I don’t hold onto expectations the way that I used to anymore. Living in the past is a kind of torture; you can’t hold onto what no longer exists. I’m still learning, but I’m thankful everyday for the life that I continue to build.”


“Most people are their own worst critic and I’m no different. I know that my own fears hold me back the most. Sometimes, the critic in me will tell me that I’m not special, pretty, or clever enough. It can be hard to talk that critic down, but it’s definitely easier to do it now than when I was younger.”


“I’m always working and writing music. I have an idea to put out a project that’s a little bit of everything soon. It’s like a big art project with music and poetry. When it’s ready, it’s ready. I’ve been working on it since I put out my first mixtape all those years ago. I’m also working on confirming some really exciting performances. As soon as I know, I’ll let my fans know on Twitter too.”


“I am really proud of my recent releases and I hope to be able to continue sharing my art with the world. More than that, I hope I stay grounded and true to myself as a mom, daughter, lover, and friend. It’s easy to get caught up in the extra curricular activities in the entertainment industry, so I know I have to work hard on staying true to my own path. I’m still young, so sometimes I take two steps forward and two steps back, but that’s ok if it helps me live my true purpose to just be me.”


“To anyone who aspires to follow my career path, the only real guidance I can give it to take your time, be patient, and learn to be yourself. Ask yourself why you want to do this. If you’re honest, maybe you don’t want to be famous or maybe you just want the money. When you find that truth, stick to it and remember that shortcuts don’t lead to the best outcome. Above all, tell your inner critic to be quiet and surround yourself with positive people who help motivate you.”


“My music is a pure reflection of myself. It can be blues, jazz, alternative, folk, electronic, hip-hop—a mashup of everything. For the most part, I want my work to be chill and easy to listen to. I personally love to listen to music when I’m alone or driving, so I like to imagine that other people might find my songs meditative in similar situations.”

© Cr Fashion Book

Fic: Got Your Number

prompted: “I’m minding my own business, driving down the freeway, when I look over and see you sitting in the passenger seat of a tow truck cab in time to see you give me this woeful I’M-SO-MISERABLE look so now I’m writing down my number and holding it up to the window so you can talk to me instead of the truck driver” AU.

~1200 words, PG.

Kurt was about four seconds from beating himself to death on the car window. Somehow he’d been stuck in the backseat after Santana called driver (which he would allow, since it was her car) and Rachel called shotgun (which was less acceptable, because he knew her motion sickness excuse was totally fabricated), meaning he either had no leg room or had to deal with the spare buckles digging into his thighs if he tried to stretch along the bench. Even more annoying than that, though, was the fact that Santana and Rachel had been arguing over who should have control of the radio for the past twenty-five miles, getting shriller and shriller as the miles passed with no resolution.

Oh, great, and we’re slowing down! Kurt thought, noting brake lights all around them. Just what I needed to improve my mood.

Thankfully, the crush of traffic trying to merge into their lane made Santana have to stop arguing and focus on the road, a small mercy for Kurt. He looked out his window idly as they neared the source of the bottleneck: a tow truck along the right shoulder picking up an older sedan, orange lights flashing away.

He had to double-take when he saw the guy leaning against the cab of the truck.

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Puppy love. Sam x Reader

“Freaking witches!” Dean spat, bending over trying to catch his breath. The witches they had been hunting had managed to get away, disappearing in a cloud of smoke. God, how cliche. As they disappeared they laughed, telling the boys and yourself that it would wear off soon. Not that they had told you what, but you were soon going to find out. “Sam? You okay?”
“Yeah,” he replied to his brother, “you?”
“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve been hit by anything. Where’s Y/N?” Sharing a worried they quickly went in search of you. Much to the horror of both the boys, they didn’t find you. Well not exactly.
They turned into one of the bedrooms of the house, guns at the ready, seeing a small girl of only around four sitting on the floor. She resembled you, even her clothes were the same. Her hair was all messy, but Dean and Sam thought it was adorable. She sat, staring at the door, her eyes filling with tears as she saw the guns in their hands pointed at her.
“Daddy said that guns were dangerous,” she cried. Lowering their guns, Sam walked closer to her, not quite sure what to do.
“Y/N,” he asked, kneeling down in front of you. You smiled as he said your name, liking the fact he knew it. You didn’t know who he was, but he made you feel safe. “Okay, Dean. I think we have a problem.”
“You think!” Dean shouted, causing you to cry again at the loud noise.
“Dean don’t shout,” Sam said softly, picking you up and holding you in his arms. “Hey, shh. He didn’t mean to scare you, shhh.”
“I want to go home,” you choked on your tears. “I want to see daddy!”
“Okay, okay. Come on, we’ll take you to daddy,” Sam smiled. “Dean, I think you should call Bobby. Tell him that were on our way, I don’t think she’s going to settle with out him.”
“Ahh look at you being all maternal,” Sam shot him a bitch face. “I’m on it, I’m on it.” Dean left, going to get his phone from the car, leaving Sam to hold little you.
“Do you know who I am?” He asked, setting you down so he could look at you.
“No,” you smiled back, your eyes lighting up. Sam had to admit you were adorable like this, the smaller version of his best friend and crush. Normal sized you was a beautiful woman who had captured his heart in a romantic sense but little you was cute and cuddly that made his heart melt. Maybe if you had kids they would look like you. “But you look like John. Daddy’s friend.”
“That’s because I’m his son, Sam,” he smiled. Your tiny head tilted to the side, confusion taking over your expression. Suddenly it dawned on Sam, you had known him at Dean at this age, so you knew that he wasn’t this age. “But I’m a lot bigger now. Don’t worry, but the witch hit you with a hex but me, Dean and your daddy, we’re going help you. Get you back to the you we all love.”
“Oh,” your face fell. “Okay!” You squealed suddenly, causing Sam to laugh at your sudden out burst of joy. “Sammy? Why do you have a cut on your head?”
“I got punched in the face,” you laughed again. For some reason his pain seemed to amuse the toddler you. “It’s not funny,” he chuckled, picking you back up and heading to find his brother. He heard you trying to stifle the laughed as he plonked down the stairs and headed out the house. You stopped the chuckling briefly, only so you could place a wet sloppy kiss to the cut on Sam’s head.
“Mooi!” You said as you did it. “All better!”
“Yeah, all better,” Sam smiled, loving the fact it made you smile. Dean was leant up against the car, finishing off the phone call with Bobby. When he snapped the phone down, he told Sam what was happening. They were going to take you to Bobby’s so you could get some of your old clothes, while the boys would use Bobby’s books to find a quick cure for what was happening to you.
“He’s pissed,” Dean started.
“Shhhh!” You squealed covering your ears. “Bad word!”
“Like you ain’t said it,” Dean scoffed.
“Dean,” Sam growled. Dean got the idea and with a roll of his eyes headed round to the driver side of the car. Sam was going to put you in the back, but didn’t want you in there with out a car seat so settled on seating you on his lap. Dean smirked as he saw Sam wrestling with the seat belt, trying to get it round you and himself. Which you were having no none of. “Come on, Y/N. Sit still, just for a minuet.”
“No,” you replied.
“I’ll buy you candy?” Dean said from the drivers seat, growing impatient.
“Okay,” you giggled, sitting still in Sam’s lap. Sam fastened the belt around you, nodding to tell Dean it was okay to drive off.
“You can’t just let kids have sugary foods, Dean.” Sam groaned. “She’s going to go hyper if you give her too much.”
“Oh shh,” Dean laughed. “She’ll be fine, won’t you princess?”
“I’m not a princess,” you replied, your eyes watching the world go past you.
“Oh really?” Sam smiled, watching the awe on your face as the lights flashed past. “What are you then?”
“I’m a hunter, like daddy. Princesses don’t know how to fight, not like daddy can.” Both the Winchesters snorted at this, this was just like the you they knew. You didn’t have time for all the girly crap, you just wanted to save the world.
“Can I tell you a secret, Y/N?” Dean whispered. You nodded. “You are a hunter now that your a big girl,” your eyes shine brightly as you looked at Dean.
“Really?!” You squeaked.
“Yeah, and your pretty badass!”
“Shhh! Bad word!”

The boys were driving for quite sometime, only stopping once to get the sweets that Dean promised. Currently you were playing I spy. You were winning, and not because the boys were letting you. Dean turned the corner in to Bobby’s scrap yard,
“Oooo! I spy with my,” you held your small finger up to your eye, making a circle as if it was smaller. “Little eye. Something beginning with h!”
“Noo! Home!!!” You grinned. Dean pulled up at the front of the house, and got out. You had to wait until Sam undid the belt keeping you in place. You wiggled and squirmed in his lap as he fiddled with the buckle. When the strap was off you sprung up from his lap, running up to the front door. Before you had a chance to charge in, Bobby opened the door. You smiled up at him, even though to your younger eyes he looked a little different.
“Daddy!!!!!” You jumped into his arms, him quickly hugging you back.
“Hey, monster! What happened to you?”
“Sammy said that witches did it,” you smiled as he set you down. “Daddy?”
“I don’t like that one,” you said pointing at Dean who gave you a hurt expression. “He pointed a gun at me, and he’s loud. Like a dinosaur. And he called me a princess” you whispered to your farther.
“To be fair, we thought there was a witch,” Dean replied, shocked that you just grassed him up. Bobby gave him a dirty look, before turning back to you.
“Do you want something to eat?”
“Mmm,” you rubbed your belly. “Yes please. But can Sammy make it? I want to make his hair pretty,” you asked.
“Come on, kid. Let’s go make you food,” Sam smiled, taking your hand and allowing you to lead him into the kitchen. Back in the hallway, Dean and Bobby were trying to decided what to do.
“What happened?”
“I honestly don’t know, one minuet were hunting witches, the next their gone and she’s four again. All i know is the bitches said it would wear off.” Bobby sighed, rubbing his forehead.
“Well that’s it. If it’s meant to wear off then it will, we can’t do jack about it. Just got to wait it out.” They both sighed, walking into the kitchen to see how you and Sam were doing. You were sat on the table, Sam sitting the wrong way round on a chair, your hands making pretty designs in his hair. A sandwich sat next to you, but Sam’s hair was much more entertaining. “Y/N. Don’t forget your food,” Bobby said. Signing you shoved the sandwich in your mouth, holding it there as you worked again on Sam’s hair.
“Say, Sam. You look good in braids,” Dean mocked. Sam didn’t actually seem to mind it though.
“Done,” you smiled through the sandwich, trying a small band onto the end of Sam’s braid.
“Thanks,” Sam said patting the design on his head. “It looks beautiful.” You grinned and ate the sandwich, the boys enjoying the little expressions you made as you did.
After you had eaten you had got bored, and not having any toys the boys had to come up with a way to keep you entertained.
“So what do you want to do,Y/N?” Dean asked, noticing you hanging upside down on the sofa.
“Emm,” you thought. “I want to play hide and seek! Will you play?” You asked Dean, who smiled, loving your enthusiasm. Once he nodded you quickly got up to find Sam and your dad. Your small body went hurtling into the kitchen, colliding with Sam who was on his way out. You landed on your bum, but unlike most children you just laughed and got up, to excited that you were going to play a game. “Sammy! Daddy! Me and D-D are playing hide and seek, come play! Pweeeeese!!!!” You gave them both the puppy dog eyes, the ones that still worked on them to this day. They both agreed, as long as Bobby could count first. When you heard your dad start counting you ran off into the house, trying to be as quiet as possible. Deciding that hiding behind one of the old book cases was the best you sat behind it, holding your knees to your chest and grinning when your dad said he was coming. You saw him walk past, but he didn’t see you. You heard him find Dean, then Sam, but he didn’t find you for quite sometime. He only realise where you were when the dust behind the cabinet caused you to let out a tiny sneeze. His head popped around the corner, smiling seeing his little girl happy.
“Got you!” He said, pulling you out and tickling you causing you to squeal.
“Ahhhh!!!!” You broke free, running to Dean, who only continued to tickle you. “Stoopppp! Stop!!!” You shrieked. Sam came to your rescue, capturing you in his arms and hiding you from Dean and Bobby. “Whooo! Your so tall! It’s like being on a airplane! Brrrrrrr!” You started to pretend to be a plane, Sam holding you up above his head and flying you round the room.
“Hey guys,” Dean called at you. “Me and Bobby are going to go get some food, it’s getting late and if she’s going to be like this for a while we don’t want her to be ratty. She’s bad enough at 25. Why don’t you get her into bed stuff.”
“Yeah, what ever,” Sam said, lowering you into his arms. “Come on, squirt. Let’s go get you ready for beddie byes.”
“But I’m not tired,” you moaned.
“Y/N Singer. Do as Sam says and I’ll read you a story tonight,” your dad smiled, pecking you on the head as he left with Dean.

Sam had taken you upstairs to your old room, thankful that Bobby had been smart enough to keep clothes from when you were little, just incase you had kid of your own. He was putting the trousers on your little legs, when you sighed.
“Yes,” he grinned up at you, wrestling with your feet that wouldn’t stay still.
“Am I like daddy? Now as I’m a grown up?” You asked, looking a bit sad. “Do I save people?”
“Y/N, you are one of the best hunters out there,” Sam sighed, pulling up the little bottoms all the way up. “You save so many people. You’ve even saved me a few times.”
“Is it good being big? Cos… I don’t know if I want to be a big girl.”
“It’s not brilliant being a big girl, but…” This was a very deep conversation to be having with a four year old. “But I think that if you weren’t the big girl that you are now, then me and Dean wouldn’t be the good guys we are. Cos shhh, I love the big you. Lots and pots.”
“Is big me your girly friend?”
“No,” he pulled you up for a hug and carried you down the stairs, sitting you at the kitchen table and sitting next to you. “Me and you… The big normal you, we haven’t… We aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Why?” You asked, the notion of relationships was puzzling as it was to a child but talking about a relationship, to a four year old that wasn’t meant to be a four year old, that included them, wasn’t exactly easy to understand.
“Big you doesn’t want me as more then a friend,” Sam smiled sadly, “but I still love her.”
“Well… She’s silly then. Cos I fink your great! You play airplanes, and have pretty eyes, and hair like a lion! Your like simba!” Sam smiled at this, loving the cute way you bobbed back and forth, up and down as you listed all the things that little you liked about him.
“Well I’m glad that you like me,” he said placing a soft kiss to your forehead, just as Dean and Bobby came home, lots of food bags in their hands.

After eating, you had started to feel sleepy, so Bobby had taken you up to bed, reading you a story from one of the books he had kept. It was your favourite. It was about a little girl who didn’t do what people told her too, she wasn’t like all the other girls but she didn’t care because she was smart and able. She made others happy, just like you wanted too. Bobby watched as your eyes fluttered shut, he placed a light peck to your forehead.
“Night night my little monster,” he smiled as he left, leaving the night light on, just like you had done as a kid.

You woke up with a start, the sun shining through the the curtains and into your room. You noticed you were naked under the sheets, pulling them up to cover yourself as you dug around the draws for something to wear. You remembered what had happened, clear as day. You were a kid again, the boys and your dad looked after you and you were happy. You even remember Sam, how you had played with him, your feeling that the 25 year old you had reflected onto him as a child, wanting him to play with you. The most of all you remember him telling you how he felt. The thought alone making you smile. After dressing quickly into a pair of old jeans and a jumper, you ran down stairs, happy to find all the guys round the kitchen table.
“Morning,” you sang as you skipped into the room.
“Nice to see you again,” Dean chuckled. “I don’t like little you. You grassed me up to your dad, saying I was loud and pointed a gun at you.”
“Awh admit it you loved the little me running around,” you laughed as you plonked on the spare seat. “You all loved it.”
“It was nice seeing my little monster running around like an idjit again,” Bobby smiled.
“Well we can always play hide and seek. When ever you like dad. Hey Sam, can I… Em talk to you?”
“Yeah sure,” he blushed, following you out onto the porch. The door shut gently behind you, as you perched on the steps. He did the same, coming to sit next to you. “What did you need?”
“Is it true?”
“That you love me lots and pots? Or were you just telling me… I mean kid me… That so I would shut up?”
“I meant it,” he replied, looking down to his hands that laid intertwined in his palm. You didn’t want to ruin the moment with words so decided to do the one thing that you had been wanting to a fair bit. You leant up to him, gently turning his face with your fingers. His eyes closed as you leant closer, slowly capturing his lips between yours. His lips moved against yours, his hands pulling you closer. One hand landed on your waist, and another on your neck, helping him deepen the kiss. It seemed to go on forever but it didn’t seem to go on for long enough as you soon had to pull back for air.
“Sam, I love you too. I meant what I said, sorta, you do have pretty eyes,” he laughed. “And I love your hair, but mostly I love how you look after me, four or twenty five.”

Barefoot and Broken (Chapter 1 of 3)

A/N: Carve Me Open is from your point of view. This story is from Sebastian’s point of view and that’s all I will say because I don’t want to give anything away. 

You and Sebastian have identical iPhones. Rushing out of the house in the early morning to make his photo shoot and late show taping, he accidentally grabs your iPhone. He is in for a rude awakening.


It was  3AM, my mornings have been getting earlier and earlier, but I can’t complain, it’s the lifestyle I signed up for. I opened my eyes and stared into the darkness, I blinked a few times as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I sat up slowly uncurling her from my side. She stirred slightly, turning unto her stomach, I smiled as I remembered our conversation about the crazy day I had ahead, I knew she was half listening but it was my own fault as I remembered the sweet and deep assault I put her body through the night before. The blood rushed to my thighs as I thought about her legs wrapped around my waist and her quaking voice in my ear pleading for me to fill her to hilt. I groaned as I padded across the room into the bathroom fighting against the erection. Twenty minutes later, dressed and ready, I tried, but failed to nudge her out of her sleep.

“Doll,” I whispered in her ear. “I’m heading out.” She stirred, lifting her head from the pillow to look at me. I kissed her lips, slowly and tenderly then rubbing the pad of my thumb across her cheek. “Dinner, tonight at Santorini’s.” She nodded. I kissed her again and she fell back gently unto the pillow. I grabbed my phone and car keys from the night table and head out.


It was 4:15AM, when I sat in makeup and hair. Today’s shoot would take me throughout the city and I doubt we will wrap before two, from what Kev, my assistant told me, it looks like we will wrap around 4-5PM, giving me a short window to get ready for the tonight show taping with Jimmy Fallon to promote my new movie. While they fussed with my hair, I pulled out my phone and placed my thumb across the trackpad, it buzzed saying I needed to enter my passcode. I typed my six digit code and it buzzed saying it was incorrect, I input the code again, but it buzzed again saying it was incorrect. I typed in her passcode and the phone opened.

“Fuck.”I say to myself a little too loudly as the makeup lady looked a little taken aback at my outburst. “Sorry.” I say. “I grabbed my girlfriends iPhone.”

I went into the messages and sent myself/her a message. We were currently at location number two on top of a rooftop taking shots with the sunrise in the background. As we were wrapping and heading to the next location her phone vibrated and I clicked on my name. I saw the three screenshots I asked her to send along with a message:

Do you want me to meet you to switch phones?

Ten minutes later as we were driving to the next location I replied:

No need, we’ll just switch at dinner. Have a great day xx

She replies:

Should I wear that dress?

Fuck, no I say in my head as I imagined what I would do to her in that dress.

Yes, if you want the restaurant to have a front row view of your derriere as I bend you over the table.

Lol, you wouldn’t.

I hung up the phone after my quick conversation with James and replied to her message with a photo:

I would.

Bye, Sebastian xx

Later babe…wear anything, but that dress.

The current shoot was in The Breslin and as we breaked for lunch I decided to have some fun with her phone. I snapped a photo and uploaded it to her Instagram page.

Caption: Hacked


It was now a little after four pm and we wrapped for the day. Kev and I were back in midtown, walking into Rockefeller Center for the late night taping. I felt the phone vibrated, expecting it to be a message from Dollface because I haven’t heard from her since this morning and I’m usually good at checking in, but today was pure madness. The phone beeps again and I input her passcode, I clicked to the messages:


Babe, you looked magnificent. Lunch was amazing, you still have the glow and shine that I fell in love with the first time we met. Seeing you brought back memories that made me realize how stupid I was to let you go. I never stopped loving you.
C ;)

I stared at the phone not quite registering what I just read. I felt the anger and betrayal stir in the pit of my stomach. And almost immediately her phone vibrates, my stomach tightens thinking it could be him, but I exhaled deeply when I saw my name and a picture of the both of us making funny faces flash across the screen. My finger hovers over the decline button, but I thought against it watching as the screen dims and lights up showing a missed call. The phone vibrates again, she’s sent a message. I slipped her phone in my pocket and quickly swallowed my emotions and smiled ready for the camera. I walked unto the stage to deafening applause and screams.

The  taping was an hour and it was an absolute blur. The  only thing on mind was getting to this moment. I arrived at Santorini’s a bit early, trying to figure out what I would say to her. It was 7:50p when she walked through the doors and was led to where I was seated.

“Sorry, I’m late.” She beams, kissing me lightly on the lips; removing her jacket to reveal a peach sweater and leather pants.

I smile, “don’t worry about it.”

She sat across from me as the server filled her glass. “Thank you.” She smiled.

“ I ordered appetizers for us.” I say taking a sip of the water.

“Good because I am starving.”

My mind whirred as she spoke about her day and I filled her in on the multiple shoots around the city.

She doesn’t know he sent a message, so maybe it’s nothing, but something is nagging me about this, something feels off and I have every right to know. I smiled at her stories, interjecting when it was appropriate, but I wasn’t listening. The appetizers came and she lifted food from the bowl and placed it on a plate and handed it to me. I laid the plate down in front of me.

“Sebs is there something wrong? You haven’t said much.” I reached into my pocket, not taking my eyes from hers and handed her the phone. “We don’t have to do this now, you can give it to me later.” She gestures nonchalantly taking a bite of the dinner roll.

“No, you should take it.” I say slowly.

“OK.” She looks at me then hesitantly takes the phone.

She breaks our eye contact and I looked down at my plate thinking of all the food that was about to be wasted because my appetite was currently non-existent and hers was about to follow suit.

“How was lunch?” I asked, gazing at her evenly.

“Fine.” She answers.

“Just fine?” I asked feeling the blood in my veins turning into ice as I gripped the glass of water.

“Yes, Babe. Lunch was just fine.”

I laughed. “Babe…hmm…Okay. Maybe you should read your message and then we’ll try that again.” I state in a clipped tone as the server placed our plates in front of us.

**Chapter Two will be up at midnight tomorrow.**

if you buy thor a cup of coffee (and ask him nicely), he’ll recharge your cell phone for you.

Rosie Gaines is the keyboard player and singer Prince drafted for 1990’s Nude tour. This afternoon Prince has been asking her questions on camera for a documentary he’s making. I ask her whether she asked him any questions.

“Nooo,” she says, grinning. “I wish I could have.”


“I want to ask him just to come out to my house and meet my husband and have a barbecue, just not be Prince for a day.”

He has been around her place once, actually. In the driveway, anyhow. Prince called up one night after midnight. He’d just done some new music, and it was so funky he had to play it to someone.

She was the closest. So she gave him directions. When he was outside he phoned from the car and she came down and sat for half an hour in his blue BMW, listening to new tunes: “The Flow,” “Walk Don’t Walk.” While the music played they didn’t say anything.

It was so funky Rosie didn’t want to get out of the car. Rosie listens to Prince’s music and knows he has love in his heart. Also, he made her feel good about her looks; he told her she was sexy inside. Prince calls Rosie “cousin.” She calls him “Prince” but says she’d like to call him “baby.”

-Rosie Gaines, GQ (1991)

Doodled so much Link in the car today