soaked in beer

anonymous asked:

Imagine the reader/S/O has crushed (but she's shy) on Ignis for so long but hears a rumour he is fond of someone else so she gets drunk for the first time and ends up running into him and what would his reaction be?

Okie here we go, alcohol cw below. This was a drabble that ran long, oops.

Drunk reader runs into Ignis 

You’d been crushing on Ignis for a while now. Something about that always calm expression, those sharp green eyes- Astrals, that voice- drew you to him like a moth to a flame. You could never bring yourself to say anything to him though, just being around him felt like a gift. But that day you’d heard that he had been having a quiet word with Gladio about asking a girl out- someone who’d been on his mind for ages. 

Honestly? It hurt far more than you were willing to admit. You had never told him how you felt but it hurt all the same. So when your friends invited you out for a drink at the end of the day you drank ever so slightly more than you usually did. About four tequila shots more than you usually did, and you could feel the difference. You were usually smart about your limits but this time you just wanted some of the cheer you could hear from the other bar patrons.

It didn’t work. The alcohol loosened the knot in your stomach but all that came out was tears. Your friends handed you napkins as you cried your heart out onto the bar, too drunk to care about their concerned looks. You realised about twelve napkins in that this was not helping. You waited for your breathing to calm down long enough to ask the bar man to call you a taxi, then said your goodbyes and staggered outside to wait for it.

You had just perched on a low wall to wait for it when you heard a familiar voice say your name. A very familiar voice. You thought if you ignored it, it might go away, that the beautiful painful voice would not be behind you. The tequila made that easy to believe, until you felt a hand on your arm and had to look up into those piercing green eyes. Ignis said your name again, concerned this time, and for the first time you realised how you must look with your eye makeup left on those bar napkins and your face puffy from crying. Shit.

“What happened? Are you alright, do you need a ride home?” Astrals, it was all you could do to to nod and accept a gloved hand up without bursting back into tears. He was so kind, so perfect, and he cared for someone else. The car journey was tense, and you couldn’t look at him. At least until he spoke again.

“What were you thinking? Alone, in that state… Anything could have happened.” When you turned to look at him, his brows were drawn together in a stern line, worry written in every angle of his face. You couldn’t lie to him- you didn’t think your brain worked well enough to try, anyway. 

“I drank too much… Had a bad day.” 

“I can see that.”

“I… found out that someone I care for, cares for someone else.” Glancing over, you saw Ignis’ hands tighten on the steering wheel. You knew that below the gloves, his knuckles would be bone white. 

“I… see. This is not a healthy or safe way to deal with this sort of thing.” Ever the gentleman, even when he was calling you a silly dumbass. You could even ignore the fact that he was the one you were drinking to forget. As he pulled into your driveway, that fact hit you again: you were in love with him, and he was in love with someone else. The tears were coming again, and you couldn’t stop them, and his arms were around you. You couldn’t stop them and his shirt smelled like him and this wasn’t helping but you couldn’t pull away. 

“I can’t stand to see you hurting like this, you know.” His usually calm voice sounded almost angry. “To see your smile gone and not be able to help. Like someone has knocked the sun out of the sky.” You couldn’t hold back a snort at that. 

“Now I know you’re making fun of me. I’m more like a low-energy bulb someone kicked in.” That earned a wry smile, at least.

“Well then I wouldn’t mind having words with the one who did the kicking.” His banter was so easy, so natural, that you responded without thinking. 

“Talking to yourself is a bit sad, you know.” Shit. Shit. Realisation crossed his face and he stopped you before you could say anything. Was that pity or horror on his face? You couldn’t decide which would be worse. You reached for the door to escape but he stopped you with a gentle hand on your arm. 

“The ‘person you cared for’ is… me?” You couldn’t trust your voice but nodded anyway.

“And you heard I cared for someone?” You nodded again, knowing that the tears were coming again.

“And you went out drinking because… that hurt you so much that you did this?” Why was he doing this? Why was he making you say this? You nodded. He put his arms around you again, his glasses cool against your face as he spoke softly into your ear.

“Astrals, I’m sorry. It was you. I was going to ask you to dinner, I never would have thought…” You didn’t know what surprised you more, the things he was saying or the fact that he, the great Ignis Scientia, was lost for words. The surprise made way for giddiness as what he’d said sunk in, that the person from the rumours had been you, that you’d cried a whole days worth of eye makeup into beer soaked napkins over yourself. 

“Dinner… sounds great.” You managed to sniffle. You walked out of your house the next morning with your keys, your first hangover, and your first date with one Ignis Scientia.

Two Shirts

Title: Two Shirts – Warmth Series Part 2

Characters/Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam

Word Count: 1600

Reader Gender: Female

Warnings: None that I can think of.

Summary: Tomorrow came, as it inevitably does, and now the reader has to think about her relationship with Dean. But what will happen if they have to share more than a bed?

Author’s Note: Okay guys, here’s part two of the Warmth Series! I can’t thank you all enough for the amazing response the first part of this got and I hope you guys enjoy this just as much! There will be either one or two more parts of this series, depending on how many words it takes me to write what’s left of the story. If you want to be tagged in the next few parts of the please add yourself to This List or send me an Ask. Feedback is appreciated, and enjoy!

P.S. I’m going to stop using the Pond Taglist soon so if you’re on there and want to keep getting tagged in my fics please add yourself to my tag list. Thanks!

Two Beds - Warmth Series Part One

If you would like to read any of my other fics please check out my Masterlist!

*Gif is not mine, all gifs used on my blog are from Google Images.*

     It was tomorrow.

     When you’d opened your eyes this morning you became acutely aware of the unfamiliar weight still around your middle, Dean’s muscled arm caging you in in a way that - despite your best efforts - wasn’t unwelcome, but you knew had to be stopped as soon as possible.

     Getting involved with a hunter was dangerous and only ever ended one way: badly. He’d die and leave you alone, or you’d die and leave him, and no matter what happened someone was getting hurt – whether fatally or not. You couldn’t risk emotional attachment or compromise your ability to think rationally – which would most certainly happen if you had a relationship clouding your judgment.

     Mercifully Dean woke up and rolled over at that point, stretching his arms and yawning. Then he flung a pillow at Sam to wake him up.

     And now here you were, sitting in the back seat of the impala and heading back to the room with the beds - the two beds – ready to do it all over again. You promised yourself tonight you would be stronger, promised tonight you would keep your distance and stay away from the man on the other side of the bed, from the man you loved despite your best efforts not to. But you knew the truth. If he pulled you close, if he offered his warmth, your fortitude would crumble and you wouldn’t reject him.

     You never could.

Keep reading


I can’t believe I am finally here, in my daddy’s bed. I’ve wanted to sleep with him for so long, since I was so little. I always knew he looked at me and probably thought about me when he came, but who knew it would take me being a little whore to get his attention? I’d been sneaking out and hiding it for so long. But this whole time, all he wanted to do was punish his little slut baby girl with his big cock.


Let me rewind. I’m 21. My daddy has been living with us forever. He’s my dad. My mom used to be this hot little ballerina type and I would hear them fucking all the time when they first met. He would pull my mom by her panties into their room right in front of me and slam the door. I never heard the click of a lock, instead i heard my mom fall to hear knees and start gagging on daddy’s cock. I heard him demand “take it harder. come on girl. you can take it all in that big mouth.”  I think they wanted me to hear that. Maybe I should’ve gone in. Maybe they would’ve liked that.

When they were done, he would fling the door open and walk out naked, with his cock still half hard. Once, I was still in the hallway when he made his exit. I looked in between the french doors to their room and saw my mom’s naked body on the floor, with her hand still teasing her pussy. Her eyes were closed, but she couldn’t seem to stop touching herself. Moans were still coming out of mouth. Daddy walked out into the hallway and crouched down to me, about 13 at the time, when he saw me. He was maybe 30. He said “It’s okay. You can watch me and your mommy having fun. We like having fun with each other. It makes daddy’s cock bigger and makes your mommy’s pussy wet. It’s good for you baby!”

The next night, daddy came into my room and woke me up by dragging me by the panties to his room. This time, mom was still there. She was sleeping. He pulled me and my panties onto the bed, but they were ripped in half by the time I got there. Our house was big and the hallway was long. He brought me into bed to sleep with him and said I needed to take my panties off because that’s the only clean way to sleep. He kept his hand on my pussy all night long, but that’s all that happened.

But that was years ago. Me at 13 years old didn’t know what was going on. I honestly thought nothing of my dad and his loving behavior. I was his little girl, and he loved me.

Sometimes we had daddy/daughter only nights, where we would watch romantic movies and my dad would take me shopping. He liked to be the one to buy me my bras and underwear. He said I needed a man’s opinion, and he liked to make sure his baby girl felt sexy. Nobody ever argued with him when he came into dressing rooms with me as a girl of 14, because he was so charming and handsome. He just explained how he needed to help his little girl with these things, because I was so uncomfortable and I only liked to undress for him. They always found that endearing. Sometimes, daddy would take a picture or two on his phone of my outfits so that my family could give their opinion. He knows I need my brother and uncles approval before I buy anything. Daddy is what matters most, but they are good tie breakers. Back then, my daddy worshipped my body. He liked to massage me and tell me how much I was growing. He would tell me that men were going to be trying to get close to me with their cocks. I always knew nobody else’s cock would interest me. I was my daddy’s girl.

And now, I’m 21. Since high school I got a job at a hotel downtown and my dad comes to visit me a lot because I stayed close by in Nashville. I dress in a silk bunny dress and an apron, so I get hit on a lot. I like when daddy comes in because he doesn’t tell anyone who he is. He just scares off the perverts who want to touch me. I’m old enough to make him mine, but I know he’s too shy to get me on his own. There was one night, right after my 21st birthday. We’re at work and the clock strikes 2. I say “Daddy, i’ve never even taken one shot at work since my birthday. You have to take one with me!”

So i pour double shots of rumple mints and kiss him on the check.

“Oh you’re a lot of fun dad! That’s why I love when you visit me.”

I pour us two more.

And two more after that.

By now, I’ve pulled him behind the bar with me and start sliding the straps off of my costume. It’s so uncomfortable.

“Little girl, keep your clothes on! You’re at work. I need to take you home.”

He drove me home that night but the whole way home I was begging him to turn around. I wanted to go back to a bar and dance!

I just wanted to keep having fun!

So, when we got back to his house, something had clicked. He loosened his tie.

“You’re right. It’s too early. Let’s keep this night going…”

He went to the bar and poured us both cocktails.

“You’re old enough to drink now, so we can have as much fun as we want. Can’t we? Go pick out a song you like.”

I put on Rihanna and started dancing.

He was dancing too. “My little girl has some moves!! Show me whatcha got?”

I started to wiggle around with my ass out, grinding to the floor.

“Wow. Is that how you dance when you’re out, little girl? You look like you’re looking for trouble. You look like you’re a slut.”

I was shocked.

“DAD! Did you just call me a slut?”

“Well… no. I’m just saying you were getting really sexual. It looks like you’ve been fucked before Charlie!”

“Wow, dad! Clearly you like what you see!!”

“Charlie! Now I need to know. How many guys have you fucked!!?”

I sit down. Dad pulls me back up by the wrists.

“Dad. What do you want me to say? I like sex.”

“Oh do you, baby girl? Have you been stretching that pussy out?”


“You don’t show me and I’m going to find out for myself anyway baby. Show daddy how much of a slut you are!”

Daddy threw me over his shoulders and took me to his bed. He told me to wait there and to be a good girl. I got comfy and snuggled up to the down comforter.

When he came out, he scooped me up off the bed into the bathroom. He told me to put on a triangle pastie twin top and triangle thong bottoms. He told me this was my mom’s swimsuit when she was a young slut. It’s only right that I put it on and suck some cock.

When I put it on and looked in the mirror, I could see my daddy sitting behind me with a big fat boner. He was in awe.

“Bend over for daddy.”

I did, of course.

“Daddy, I want to get into the bath.”

“Take off the suit first, then, baby.”

I did, of course.

As soon as we got into the water together, Daddy wouldn’t leave my nipples alone. He wanted to touch and feel them. I let him, of course.

Daddy had brought a bottle of champagne into the bathroom. He told me he wanted me to feel special. Mommy was out of town for the week on vacation with her friends.

“Baby girl, I want you to sleep with me tonight. There needs to be another woman in this bed. You know your mommy won’t sleep close to me anymore, right? Why don’t you get ready for bedtime and you can think about it while we go have a nightcap.”

I usually slept naked, so… I thought a crop top and boy shirts would be a good in between.

When I came out to the living room and laid down on the love seat, daddy walked up to me with a glass of vodka. I noticed he was only wearing his red plaid pajama pants with nothing underneath. He was doing that on purpose.

“OK girl, time to be straight with your daddy. Are you getting naughty with these boys at school? What’s going on at your parties? I’m sure people are fucking.”

“Ugh, dad.”

“What? You’ve got nice big tits and I’m sure you have a tight pussy. Those young cocks are gonna want to fuck you. Hard.”

It was true, obviously. I had gotten double fucked between classes more than once. But none of it was good enough. No dick was good enough.

But should I take daddy’s bait? Do I tell him about those young cocks? Yeah. I do.

“They have no idea what they’re doing.”

“Ohhh girl. You’ve tried them out haven’t you? Naughty.”

“Are you mad at me daddy?”

“No, baby girl. I like a slutty hole. Your mother won’t even open it up to me. I bet you’re tight and ready to get filled up.”

“Filled up?! Yeah right.”

He reached his hand over and reached to my panties, pulling them towards him.

“Open up your hole.”

Daddy grabbed my hand and took my through the sliding glass door and to the outdoor pool. we had two lounge chairs facing the water, right outside our doors.

The lights were on and the water was calm. A patio that was swarming with beer-soaking vacationers and kids by day was now ours.

He hopped into the shallow-er end, at about 4’. He pulled me in.

“Come on in, pretty baby.”

As soon as I was under water, he said… “Be a good girl and take off your top. Don’t worry, it’s nothing I’ve ever seen before. I bet you look just like mommy.”

I couldn’t say no… I saw my daddy’s cock get harder under his pants. He started to touch it. He was getting shameless, now.

“Oh god, baby those are some nice titties. Daddy loves when you show them off. Go ahead and swim around. Don’t forget your drink.”

I was giggling and floating around now, bouncing up and down so my tits shook.

Daddy sat back on a lounge chair and watched me, hand on his cock. He took it out of his pants and pulled down his waistband so he could jerk his cock and balls at the same time. He was rock hard. I couldn’t pretend not to stare, and he knew it. His cock had to be at least 6 inches, and it was thick. No wonder he was horny. He needed new pussy.

“Come over here baby girl.”

“Daddy! Get in the water with me. Please!”

“Aaaah” he moaned. “I love the view sweetheart. Daddy is so hard for you.”

“I see that…”

“You want to see me up close don’t you?”

“Yeah, I kinda do daddy… so what?”

“Don’t get sassy.”

“Sorry daddy.” I swam up to the curb of the pool and reached up to touch his leg. “Can you please come in the water? Just take your pants off. No one is going to see.”

“I don’t care if anyone sees. We’re just having a good time and nobody is gonna stop it. You love daddy daughter time don’t you baby?”

“You know I do.”

In one motion he pulled off his pants and slid into the water with me.

“Now this isn’t fair. Your daddy is totally naked and you have your bottoms on. Take them off, girl.”

He pulled them down for me, and I climbed out. Now i was naked too. He took my bikini bottoms and threw them on the chair. He then picked up our vodka glasses and clicked with me as we both took a drink.

“Drink it all, baby girl. Let’s have some fun!”

“I’m a lightweight daddy! Vodka makes me crazy.”

“That’s what i want, you little slut!”

He grabbed one of my ass cheeks, hard. He pulled me closer.

“You always wanted to see your daddy’s hard cock, didn’t you? You were always a horny little pervert. You loved watching me fuck your mommy. We kept you in the room because we knew how wet it got you. You got so wet we would find puddles. You came right along with mommy, didn’t you?”


I was a bit embarrassed. I’m sure all of this was true…

He took his other hand and started to play with my pussy.

“You used to play with your pussy just like this didn’t you? Every time I like you see my cock. Didn’t you baby?”

I moaned, quietly. He drank it up, moving closer to my ear to whisper, as he rubbed my clit.

“You’ve been thirsty for daddy’s cock for years. I know, baby girl. Maybe tonight is the night I let you have it.”

I moaned louder. He rubbed harder. I could feel his hard cock against my shaking leg.

“Oooh baby, you’re gonna open that wet hole up for daddy. I’m gonna take it whenever I want. You won’t need any other cocks anymore. Is that understood? No other cocks, just daddy’s.”

“Aaahhh, yes daddy. No other cocks.”

“Good girl. Now tell daddy what you want.”

“I need you to fuck me.”

“Ooooh naughty. I knew you were going to be a slut. Take another drink. Show daddy what you want.”

I turned to the wall of the pool, took the rest of his drink and spread my legs, pushing my ass into my daddy’s cock.

“I’m ready daddy.”

“Oh I bet you are, little slut. Baby girl bring that ass to daddy.”

He guided his cock into me within one or two seconds. I immediately started moaning and pushing myself further and further onto his hard cock. It was huge, perfect for me.

“Good girl, fuck that cock!”

He had a tight grip on my ass and was fucking me HARD. I was running out of breath.

“Keep that hole open for daddy. Come on and ride it! I know you want to! Work that ass baby girl.”

I let loose on his cock and felt his cock get even harder, somehow. I took ever inch. I was mesmerized by the waves we were making, almost losing consciousness. Daddy had my tits in his hands now and was whispering in my ear again.

“I bet you’ve never been fucked like this, little slut.”

“No daddy, never” I slipped out, with the little breath I had to spare.

I looked up and saw two guys with beers in their hands, sitting on the front porch chairs. They were leaned back and muttering to each other in raspy whispers that were full of testosterone and rage. They were clearly watching us.

“It’s okay baby, those are just a few of daddy’s friends. I told them we’d be here and they decided to stop by.”

I was too high to respond, or put up a fight. If they wanted to watch, fine. They could talk about it later and jack off.

“Don’t you dare stop baby girl. They came here to see a show.”

I looked up again with hazy eyes and noticed they both now had their cocks out. Their fully hard cocks were almost as big as daddy’s. I didn’t know my dad liked when men watched. God, he is just the horniest man. I love it. I love him.

“Come on girl, lets have you lay on a towel. We’re gonna switch it up.”

He lifted me out of the pool, one of the guys got up off a chair and daddy laid me down a towel before resting me on it. He spread my legs wider.

“You keep that hole open girl!”

He turned to each of the guys, cocks still hard in their hands.”

“You like what you see boys? My daughters got some good ass pussy, that’s for sure. How should I fuck her next? You know what, maybe we should full up another hole of hers. She needs it.”

Oh, god.

“Daddy i don’t know if I can take it.”

“You’ll take it, baby.”

Before i knew it daddy laid down, pulled me on top of him with force like he always did, and I was riding his cock again, my pussy dripping wet. I was never going to be able to say now to his cock.

I could feel daddy stretching my ass out. First he put one finger in, and I loved the extra jolt of juice in my pussy. He got to three fingers and I was moaning for him to keep going. Not two seconds later and I felt a cock ram my ass without warning. All 5 inches into my tight little asshole and I was moaning so loud a few lights went on in other rooms surrounding the pool.

“Shhh baby girl, relax. Just relax and open those holes. Doesn’t that feel good honey? You’re mommy won’t let us double stuff her anymore, so now that’s your job. You can do that can’t you little slut?”

“Yes, daddy. Ooooh this feels so good I want to cum.”

rockstarspudxx  asked:

ZSJ's reaction to you stealing his leather jacket and wearing it into the ring? (It could be in a match against him or not. You can decide) (:

i love thissss. gonna take a little creative liberty with it though….

Originally posted by wrestlingsmarkmatty

“Leadeeerrrs! Leadeeerrrs! Leadeeerrrs!”

You made a face as the Progress faithful screamed for the recently reunited Leaders of the New School, Marty Scurll and Zack Sabre Jr. Tonight was going to be… interesting to say the least. You’d been with the London Riots through thick and thin, even that dark period with Havoc. Hell, you still had the scars on your back from Chapter 20. Titles, no titles, it didn’t matter. You’d been there since the beginning. 

Which brought us to the tag team tournament for the number one contendership, It was the quarterfinals and a blind bracket, so the world would have to forgive you for looking like you swallowed a lemon when the LDRS music hit. It was nothing against Rob or James, but any team that had Zack Sabre Jr. was already going to be an odds on favorite.

You’d never admit to anyone either, but Zack made your heart rate do some interesting things and he’d had that effect on since you’d set foot in Progress five years ago. There were some instances over the course of those five years where you felt that maybe, just maybe, you had that same effect on the much taller man, but you just figured that it was your own infatuation coloring perfectly innocent actions.

Like just now, as the LDRS were being introduced by Jim Smallman, Zack was staring me down, instead of Rob or James, a teasing look set on his face. It had been a solid year since you’d seen him last and you’d thought you’d outgrown the infatuation, but given the flip flops your stomach just did, you were wrong.

There was no time to read into it however, the bell ringing all too soon to signal the start of the match. You shook your head to clear your thoughts and slid out of the ring. You, Rob, and James were a well oiled machine, a single cohesive unit, and there was no need for prematch discussions. 

Any other match, you would have been involved from the jump, distracting the ref, taking cheap shots at opponents, and just generally making a nuisance of yourself. This one, however, was different because of how well all parties involved knew each other. If you so much as made a motion to get onto the apron, Marty would whirl around, with a finger waved angrily, and shout, “Oh no you don’t, devil woman!”

You’d back off, hands raised in surrender, as the crowd would begin a devil woman chant. Zack give a tut-tut, shaking his head and looking genuinely amused. You’d let your guard down this match, which turned out to be a mistake. 

You’d turned away from the match for just a moment or two, enough time to say a couple words to a fan, when you were hit from behind and pushed into the laps of the front row. Who all had very, very full cups of beer.

The impact from behind stunned you momentarily, but it was the sudden chill that came with being doused in liquids made you squeal. The shock wore off quickly and you quickly righted yourself, whirling with a growl on your lips. Rob was on the ground, looking apologetic and grasping his jaw, and Marty was on the apron, looking eerily like a deer in the headlights with his hands up in a placating manner. 

“You fucked up! You fucked up! You fucked up!”

Zack facepalmed, but even his eyes traveled to your chest and the way the beer soaked t-shirt began to cling to your shape. You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to keep in some body warmth and in an instinctual attempt to shield yourself from the lanky man’s suddenly heated gaze. His eyes were almost a physical caress and you could feel the flush spreading from the roots of your hair down past the neckline of your Riot Protection Agency shirt.

You lunged forward to take a swipe at Marty, but the villain danced out of your reach. Paz, the referee, leaned through the ropes to admonish you for so blatantly trying to get involved in the match. You scowled, through the slightest of shivers set in due to your beer soaked shirt. This match was going to be miserable with you shaking like soaked kitten.

And then, it was like a light bulb went off in your head.

Just a few feet away, a member of the ring crew was standing there innocently enough, with Zack’s Union Jack jacket in hand. The chill was starting to sink into your bones and to be perfectly honest, you’d been itching for years to try it on. Five long strides and a well placed glare, and you were surrounded by the warmth of the jacket and something that just smelled like Zack. 

The crowd roared and you could hear the movement behind you in the ring stop. You turned around and were met with the sight of a shellshocked Zack leaning against the ropes, his eyes dark and his mouth slightly agape. His expression sent a curl of feminine satisfaction through your body and you gave a flirtatious shrug. Zack quickly wet his lips, god did that do things for you, and opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by James rolling him up in attempt to get a quick pin.

The match continued, but the flush didn’t leave your cheeks. The jacket was deceptively big, the hem brushing just a couple inches before your knee caps and smelling strongly of what had to be your new favorite cologne. Zack was visibly distracted by you at ringside and Marty was irritated beyond all belief by it. The situation quickly devolved into a shouting match between the Leaders in the middle of the ring. 

And then all hell broke loose. 

Rob and James struck the bickering pair with matching forearms, setting up a brawl in the middle of the ring. Paz did his best to try to split the four men, before giving up once it was clear that this was just going to have to happen. James and Marty eventually spilled to the outside, trading clubbing blows to raucous shouts from the front row. In the ring, Zack had somehow locked in the flying octopus hold and you darted around the right to yell encouragement to Rob.

“I bet you’d look better with just the jacket on, luv!”

A chorus of boos rained down on the clearly drunk man in the audience. Zack’s head snapped toward the audience member that had cat called you, Rob still caught in the flying octopus hold, and angrily barked back at the catcaller.

“Get your eyes back in your head mate! Y’don’t talk to her like that!”

You didn’t catch what the drunk said back, but Zack did. His jaw clenched so tightly you could see the muscles tic and he released the hold on Rob, who collapsed to the mat. You blinked and Zack was out of the ring, getting into the audience member’s face.

“Fuck him up Sabre fuck him up! Fuck him up Sabre fuck him up!”

What possessed you to get between the two angry men, who knows, but you found yourself between Zack and the drunk fan, security on your heels. You had placed yourself bodily between the two, your hands braced and pushing against the tall man’s chest in a vain attempt to get distance between the two men.

“C’mon Sabre, it’s not a big deal. I’ve dealt with worse.”

Your attempt placating Zack was not well received, the implication of your words making his face even redder as he advanced threateningly towards the drunk fan, who was being escorted out by security. That’s when you noticed how… close the two of you were and you froze up.

There was scant inches between the two of you, the heat of his body seeping into yours. The muscles in his deceptively strong chest, jumping under your hands. The way his hazel-brown eyes darted down to your mouth and then back up to your eyes. The electricity crackling between the two of you was palpable and there was this feeling of “Finally!” settling into your bones.

“C’mon man! Kiss the girl!”

The crowd laughed, but then it spread through the crowd like wildfire.

Don’t stop now
Don’t try to hide it how
You want to kiss the girl
Sha la la la la la
Float along
And listen to the song
The song say kiss the girl

You spluttered at the sudden outbreak of a Disney singalong, but he wasn’t phased in the slightest, leaning downward with half-lidded eyes. You tilted your head up to meet his mouth halfway and just as your lips whispered along his…

“For fucks sake! A little help here Zack! Snog her later!”

Marty was screeching in the ring, trying to fend off both Rob and James.

Zack quickly snapped to, looking a little torn between ignoring his friend and tag team partner and helping him. That split second gave you some time to collect yourself and you wiggled out of the grasp he had somehow secured around your waist. You patted him on the cheek and winked saucily.

“C’mon, Sabre. We can discuss whatever this was after you’ve lost your match.”

Zack threw his head back and returned to the ring. 

God you hoped that neither the cameras nor the crowd caught the way your suddenly weak knees wobbled.

Manhattan | Chapter Two.

Authors Note: Hey, Hey everyone, I hope everyone has had a great day and evening. This is the second chapter to Manhattan, my Frat Boy AU. I am not sure whether this will be a fanfic or a mini-series, or what it becomes. It depends on the reviews I get on it from you guys.

I hope you enjoy this chapter, is a bit different from the first Chapter, but it is building on characters, I guess. I don’t know. Anyway, enjoy! Xx

Chapter one found, HERE.

Harry Masterlist found HERE
To Enter to win tickets for Harry Styles IN Nashville TN, HERE

It has been several days since the ludicrous frat party I attended. My dress still emanates a damn brewery, and I swear I can’t cleanse the stench of beer off my skin, but everyone else appeared to have loved it— it’s all I have heard about the last few days.

Apparently, it was such a great gathering that there’s going to be another… one that I will NOT be attending.

I don’t care if they do some keg standing drinking game or if there’s some kind of absurdly amazing beer pong match where that dickhead gets his ass beat— I am not going. I have no desire to.

I haven’t seen or heard about Harry either.

He seems to be mysterious, I am starting to wonder if he even attends the same University or if I managed to lure a creepy man to my dorm room while falling for his British charm.

Maybe he isn’t even British and it’s all an act. Who knows?

Besides the tailgate party and the after game entertainment that has been circling around conversations, the month of September is the beginning of football season—a season of deranged fanatic students’ screaming and rumbling at a football stadium, rooting for our blue and white team, while trying not to get drunk in the stands.

Today, September sixteenth; Well, today isn’t just the day for kick starting the glorious season of men in pads, pounding each other for a football, but it kicks starts against a rivalry that has been brewing for years.

We start the season against the Cornell Big Reds.

Despite my piling stacks of work and notes that need revising, I can’t help but fall for the first day, kick off, shenanigans of college football. I guess, I felt it was compulsory to act within the typical expectations of a college student and tag along with tailgating before the game.

Little did I know that this decision would be the start of something unknown.

At first glance, I disregard him, having to carry a double take before realising that it’s him, Harry.

I tilt my head to the side, my eyes blazing into him as they discern that he’s bearing red. Although he seems rather dainty in crimson, the blood humming through my veins seems to disagree with his judgment of colours, both for a good and bad reason.

I glance around promptly, noticing I am the only one not gathered in the crowd up ahead with their chants and their eager anticipation. I sigh, leaning against my roommate’s car, my eyes fluttering back towards him.

He makes his way over to me, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip as a nervous reaction.

“Hi, I’m surprised to see you here.” He flashes me a Cheshire grin, his eyes appearing to glisten a radiant emerald that I can admire more in the dusk sunset then I could in the moonlight the other night.

“Hello,” I nod, “I’m just as equally as surprised,” I comment, part of me rather enthused with the fact he’s bearing a rival colour that nobody dares to sport on such a day like today. “Nice colour, surprised your blood isn’t spread all over it— wait, don’t tell me,” I gasp, leading with a small pause. “You’re one of them.” I add, considerably amused by the fact that he may be unknown territory that is ’forbidden’.

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The Reunion

Nicole entered the Homestead feeling exhausted from an intense day with Wynonna, Dolls, and Doc. It had only been a few weeks since she had been recruited into the Black Badge Division, and between patrolling shifts for P.P.D. and B.B.D., she felt like she was about to collapse. Waverly was recovering from touching the black goo, and was assigned to look into the creature that attempted to enter Purgatory when Willa crossed the line. Since coming into contact with its remains, she obtained certain powers that she was attempting to control, which was exhausting for her as well.

Nicole placed her jacket and Stetson on the kitchen table.

“Waves?” she called.

“Gimme a sec!” Waverly answered.

She entered the dining room holding an envelope, excitement in her eyes.

“What is that?” Nicole asked, reaching for it.

“An invitation to my high school reunion!” she responded with glee, “it seems like only yesterday I was cheering on the Purgatory Devils, now here I am, kicking actual devil ass.” She winked.

“That you are.” Nicole smirked and took the envelope and opened it to reveal a formal invitation. While reading, she asked, “So…a cheerleader, huh?”

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Scott: *beautiful, flawless skin, clean-cut hair, tall, intelligent*

Logan: *short, outrageously hairy, smells like an ashtray soaked in beer, communicates primarily in a language only spoken by badgers, will fall asleep on your white couch with a bag of flaming hot cheetos and won’t pay to have it reupholstered*

Scott: *in tears* I love my bf

Breathe. Grieve.

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Reader 

Word Count: 1,569

Notes: This one’s a little different. Not only is it way more personal than anything else I’ve published, this oneshot is an emotional response to something that I’ve been trying to process for the last twenty-four hours. I’m not sure why I’ve chosen to share this rather than keep it to myself, but I’m not overly concerned with trying to figure that out. And I just want to say a huge thank you to @iraullylikeyou for supporting me and encouraging me to write so that I’m able to get a better grip on my feelings through this ordeal. The writing might not be the best, but I couldn’t care less. This is just simply me grieving in a way that works for me. I would say enjoy, but that’s not the point of this.  

TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide. Please, if you are ever feeling as if there is no other way out, please please please seek help. So many people love you, and so many people would be missing you. 

*Names have been changed*

Originally posted by seekret-fanfic

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While Angela and I were stuck in a two-hour traffic earlier from Makati to Boni, our Uber driver was telling interesting stories, and to be more specific, about alcohol because he used to be a bartender at Valkyrie, and Alamat.

Here are some pointers that we have learned:

  1. Beer should be served chilled. Do not put ice because the water compound would definitely affect the crafted compound of the beer, which, in return, would compromise its components, thus, affecting its quality drastically.
  2. Beer foam is a good thing. It is not correlated with being drunk or whatsoever. Actually, if the beer forms foam upon pouring, it means that it is fresh.
  3. There are three kinds of beer based on how it is stored, namely:
    1. The Sun Soaked: beer that has been exposed too much under the sun that it started to lose its flavor.
    2. The Opened Bottle. Some bartenders just recap the crown into unconsumed beer bottles. You could spot this when the beer doesn’t form any foam upon opening.
    3. The Perfect serving. Stored and chilled. End of story. Gulp.
  4. Never use powdered juice as a chaser. It causes severe hangover. Instead, mix rum or other alcohol with Sprite (which should not be cold). Upon mixing, chill the cocktail then serve.
  5. Lambanog can be a good substitute for rhum mixes. I’ll try this soon enough.
  6. The border between getting drunk and getting totally wrecked and wasted depends on proper phasing.
  7. Every cocktail has a story. Bartenders can sell their newly developed mixes based on two factors:
    1. Its profitability. Meaning, the owner and the consultant like it and they think that it would sell
    2. Its backstory of the cocktail mix and name. Of course, it has to be interesting. Also, creativity and ingenuity fall here.

So, there you have it. Some good old pointers from kuya Uber. Haha. Actually, we didn’t feel the long ride because he was delivering his stories comically. Good job!

Mine (Joji)

Anon Request: Could u do an imagine where reader isn’t dating joji but he gets jealous of her hanging around and laughing at other people’s jokes then just grabs her by the waist and whispers “mine"

I somehow heard a knock on the door over the sound of everyone’s chatter and the soft sound of the music, someone else was waiting to get in. Great. Not that I didn’t like people, I was social and actually enjoyed the company, but the place was getting crowded enough. I opened the door, a smile spread across my face. His black hair was somewhat covering his face as he stared down at his phone, as he looked up, his eyes beamed, a smile spreading across his face. He looked good despite me not seeing him for a few weeks. I expanded my arms out, letting him embrace me as he buried his face into the crook of my neck.

“Hey, Joji.” I said, still smiling.

I considered Joji my closest friend up until a few weeks ago when he randomly stopped coming over and communicating with me altogether. There was an incident that occurred at a friends house party where someone had drunkenly put him on blast, claiming that he had a crush on me, and feeling embarrassed and awkward, he kept his distance thinking that maybe I didn’t feel that way about him but it ‘wouldn’t hurt to take precautionary measures’…and I did feel that way, but I knew that he didn’t, which is obviously why he kept his distance in the first place. He pulled away from the hug rather quickly, which of course left me red-faced and a bit ashamed. I let him in and shut the door behind us.

“You look nice.” he said looking around, seeing nothing but groups of people, “This place looks different, you remodeled?”

“Nah, I just moved the furniture around a little bit. I needed a change.” I answered.

He nodded, uncomfortably standing there. I offered him beer, to which he followed me into the kitchen to receive. I took one out of the fridge for him, handing it over, he spoke, “Do you think we can talk? I have some stuff I wanna get out of the way…”

“Uh, yeah, we can go-“ I said before I was interrupted by Henry, one of my friends, calling me from the living room.

“You gotta see this!” Henry laughed over the music and everyone’s constant rapid talking. I excused myself politely and went over to Henry who showed me a video of some sort of meme. I couldn’t help but laugh and roll my eyes at him. Soon enough, I had forgotten about George who was in the kitchen still rummaging the cabinets for more alcohol. I danced around with several people, feeling great, singing along and laughing all through the night. Deciding to take a break, I went into my room to change out of my top. It was soaked in sweat and beer so I went with something a little more revealing around my cleavage area and my stomach just for fun. Walking out into the hallway, I saw Joji leaning against the wall.

“Hey, George. You okay?” I asked, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Uh, sure. You’re looking a little…revealing.” he pointed out bluntly.

“It’s hot in here.” I answered shrugging.

He walked off, taking a giant gulp of his drink. Maybe he still felt awkward…and that made me feel like shit. It was probably best to forget about him the way I saw him, so that’s what I focused on doing. I drank more, circling myself with my friends as everyone else danced. I laughed at the weird shit they tried pulling and the jokes they told. Catching my breath, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see a guy that was invited by one of my friends, she was trying to set me up. Since I wanted to forget about Joji as much as I could, I started chatting the guy up. Lightly touching his arm every now and then, giggling at his little antics. I could see George behind the guy, glaring over at us as he clenched his jaw. I paid no mind to him, focusing on the guy again. A few minutes passed by and the guy leaned in to my ear to to tell me something, I couldn’t hear him over the music blaring louder than before. I noticed George throw his cup somewhere and angrily lumbered over to us. He yanked me by my wrist, pulling me into his chest. Smelling his scent I shut my eyes, I missed him more than I thought I did. Although I was confused, I didn’t mind it. Trying to get over Joji would be a challenge. I opened my eyes and processed what was going on.

“What are you doing?” I asked harshly, pushing away from him as I realized what a dick-move that was. He disappears for weeks after denying his feelings for me, treating it as some kind of joke, making me feel like a complete idiot for feeling the way I do about him and now here he was cock blocking. Joji clutched me by the waste, pulling me in close, joining our bodies together.

“Mine.” he whispered into my ear in a gravelly voice, “All mine.”

His hand resting just above my butt as I felt his lips nip at my neck, working their way to my lips. His free hand cupped my face. Joji looked me in the eyes, searching my face with his eyes, as if trying to assure me everything was okay. He tilted his head lower, hesitating. I grabbed his face in my hands and pressed my lips to his hungrily. Everything around us felt like it disappeared, even that stupid guy who was hitting on me. I wanted George, I’ve always wanted George, and now that our feelings for each other were reciprocated, I didn’t have to hide that anymore.

“All yours.” I smiled as he leaned his forehead against mine.

When ‘Show Don’t Tell’ is Bad Advice, Again

Part 2

I’ve seen more of those “stop telling when you should be showing” articles floating around in my Tumblr feed, and they got me thinking.

I had responded to an article regarding the whole ‘Show Don’t Tell’ mantra before this year rolled around, and my opinion of it still stands. I think that there’s a place for showing and a place for telling in writing. I also think that professing the whole “only do one and not the other” thing is probably sending the wrong message to young writers.

I understand why the advice is given so readily. I know that a lot of novice writers tend to tell way more than they should, and it’s an easy trap to fall into. Showing is much more difficult and much more time-consuming to do. While I agree that it’s important, and that it can vastly improve your writing, I believe that it’s not something you should strive to do all the time. There are instances where telling is more effective than showing. Aside from pacing, which I explained in the first article, here are a couple of other instances I came up with.

When You Have Something to Hide

Showing is unpacking. Showing is using vivid description (including simile and metaphor), sensory details, and actions to allow the reader to experience the story instead of being told via author exposition. When you do this, you make your writing more interesting, but you also draw attention to whatever it is you’re describing.

This stands out: “Wrapped around his body and held together by hundreds of messy cross-stitches, was a trench coat that smelled like moth balls soaked in cheap beer. The stench was so strong that I found myself plunging my nose into the collar of my own coat before I even reached him.”

A line like this does not: “He wore a tattered trench coat.”

As a reader, you remember the lines of good description where the author takes the time to unpack rather than the lines where you’re just told something.

However, telling can be effective when you’re not trying to draw attention to an aspect of your story. For example, say you have a minor character in the beginning of your story that will end up being a major player later on, but you don’t want the readers to know. You’re going to have to briefly introduce that character in some manner, and then have him slip into the background for a while. You can accomplish this by not giving him a lot of focus, and by proxy, not giving him a shown, memorable description.

This applies to not only characters, but to scenes as well. Sometimes there are incredibly boring things that happen in a story that you as an author is going to want to summarize by telling instead of showing.

As author James Scott Bell puts it, “Sometimes a writer tells as a shortcut, to move quickly to the meaty part of the story or scene. Showing is essentially about making scenes vivid. If you try to do it constantly, the parts that are supposed to stand out won’t, and your readers will get exhausted.“

In essence, showing is about choosing what stands out in a story and what doesn’t. Remember when you’re deciding what you should focus on, always ask yourself why. Why is it important that this character, object, or scene stands out?

Tone of Voice

I’m going to say it here, even if some people don’t agree. I think it’s okay to tell tone, and for that matter, pitch of a character’s voice when appropriate.

When we speak, we have “ups and downs”, and even if we don’t understand the language, we can generally tell if someone is asking a question vs. making a joke vs. giving a command vs. being serious based on them. These “ups and downs”, called inflection, are expressed in text through punctuation and by inferring via the subject matter of a conversation.

However, even with these tools, it’s sometimes hard to gauge how a character sounds without being told, especially if the author has something specific in mind or if what a character is saying doesn’t correlate to how they sound.

For example if you have a character who is talking about killing someone, but is overly cheery about it, it may be prudent to mention the tone since it’s not one commonly associated with the topic of murder.

You can also include a word about tone and/or pitch if there’s a specific way the character sounds, like:

  • Smooth/Rich/Velvety
  • Nasally/Breathy
  • Deep/Gruff/Gravelly/Guttural

Keep in mind that you also have great opportunities to show some of these sounds (depending on what you pick) with great descriptions, again keeping in mind how much focus you want to be put on this character’s voice.

Example: “When he spoke it was like he had swallowed a pail of beach sand.”

Final Words

From author Francine Prose, “Needless to say, many great novelists combine "dramatic” showing with long sections of the flat-out authorial narration that is, I guess, what is meant by telling. And the warning against telling leads to a confusion that causes novice writers to think that everything should be acted out … when in fact the responsibility of showing should be assumed by the energetic and specific use of language.”

Showing vs. telling is all about the choice of what’s going to work better for your story. Don’t be afraid to show. Don’t be afraid to tell. Just know there’s a place for each.


dongan-chan  asked:

Hey baobei. It's me again. When you got the time can you please make a BTS written reaction when they're Were at a club celebrating and a girl bumps Into them and they feel an instant connection?

Hey babe! Sorry for making you wait for so long, but here it is! I hope you like it :)


He’d sway his body along with the music, not much of an exuberant dancer like Hoseok, Jimin or Jungkook, who created a pit in the crowd and challenged eachother to a dance battle. All eyes would be drawn to them, people clapping and cheering them on as Jin would stand by amused and watch his friends do their thing. He’d be leisurely drinking his beer until suddenly someone bumps into him, making him spill his drink a little. He’d turn around to see who it was and whether it was on purpose or not. 

He’d see you standing still, your face in an apologetic grimace before you feverishly start apologizing. He’d listen to your words, but they wouldn’t stick around in his head. He’d just watch your lips move as you talk, as though mesmerized. You’re so pretty he’d have to remind himself that kissing a stranger is inappropriate, and he wasn’t intoxicated enough to be that brave anyway. He wouldn’t want you to leave, so he’d settle for touching your arm and introducing himself, hoping you’d stick around.


Yoongi would be further gone as the many glasses of alcohol he chugged back surge through his bloodstream and start to manifest in loud and drunken laughter while he watched his friends battle it out on the dancefloor. He’d be working on his 10th glass until someone rudely knocked it out of his hand. He’d look for the culprit, ready to scold and rage to anyone who’d dare to make him spill his drink until his eyes would fall on yours. You’d hold out your hands in front of him, wordlessly saying you didn’t mean to, it was an accident.

Yoongi’s annoyed expression would soften out quick as the angry feeling would replace itself with something much different, but not less aggressive. High on alcohol as he is, he wouldn’t hesitate to plant his lips on yours in a firm kiss, his arm locked around your waist. He’d feel like this was a sign of destiny and he needed to act on it before he’d lose you, even though you just met.


Hoseok would be giving his all on the dancefloor, pulling out all his new moves and experimenting to his heart’s content, letting his body flow on the beat of the music. He wouldn’t care much about the dance battle or whether he’d lose or win, he’d just want to dance and have fun. As soon as he’d get a little too close to the circle of people, he’d get knocked over as someone pushed you out of the crowd. He’d be confused at first, maybe even a little angry as he’d get back up to his feet. He was so in his zone and got brutally snapped out of it. 

You’d start muttering apologies, how you didn’t mean to and how someone pushed you, but all of that would just fly over his head when he’d look at your face. He wouldn’t know why, but he’d feel like you were meant to be someone important in his life. And if you weren’t, he’d want you to be. He’d shake his head and smile, waving away the accident as he’d introduce himself and offer to buy you a drink, the dance battle long forgotten.


Namjoon would be one of his friends’ hype boys, constantly cheering them on with many loud ‘Ooooh!’s’ and ‘Whooooo!’s’ until he’d find himself stumbling forward. He’d ask himself if he lost his balance again and would be convinced it was his own doing if you didn’t make him look at you and start apologizing for bumping into him. He’d be fazed, not knowing what to do or what to say, just staring at you while you tried to explain how it happened.

He’d force himself to snap out of it and say something back, stuttering and stumbling over his words while trying to make it clear he’s not mad at you. You’d smile and thank him in relief, glad you didn’t upset anyone, but neither of you would carry on with your previous activities. You’d both just stand there, glance at the ground and smile at eachother until he’d finally muster the courage to ask you to dance. Though he’d warn you in advance he’s not very good at it.


Jimin would be so engrossed into the dance battle, he wouldn’t notice he knocked you over in the process of a 180 degree spin. You’d fall back with a small yelp as your butt hit the ground, finally grabbing his attention. He’d need a moment to realise this was his doing, but as soon as he would, he’d forget about the battle immediately. He’d kneel down in front of you in concern and help you back up, sputtering apologies and pull his best, most adorable face in an attempt to be forgiven faster. You’d smile seeing his cute expression and he’d feel a spark of electricity surging through his chest. He’d still be holding your hand and not let go before he knew your name.


Taehyung would, much like Namjoon, be supporting his friends battling it out, hyping them up and occasionally trying to imitate some of their cool dancemoves until he felt something crash into him. He looked up and saw you rubbing your arm, like you were in pain. He’d start apologizing deeply, not realizing it was you who bumped into him and not the other way around. You’d try explaining but he wouldn’t let you get a word inbetween until he was done. You’d smile and shake your head, saying it was your fault and how he doesn’t need to worry about it. 

He’d grace you with his adorable box-smile and you wouldn’t be able to hold back a huge grin as well, making the both of you stand there smiling like idiots. He’d show you Jimin, Jungkook and Hoseok, proudly letting her know they’re his friends and get you to hype them up with him. He’d feel relaxed and comfortable around you and would love to get to know you better later on.


Jungkook would be all about winning the dance battle, determined to beat his talented hyungs and protect his title of Golden Maknae. He’d be covered in sweat, high on the music and straining muscles from controlled movements. He’d be sure he’d win until he’d unexpectedly crash into you when you were carrying multiple plastic cups of beer to your friends. You thought the dance pit was just an open space, you weren’t aware of the dance battle going on before it was too late and he knocked you and your beer over. 

Jungkook would be confused as hell, ready to rant about how you didn’t see him dancing until his eyes fell on your face. You’d be angry, your shirt completely soaked through with beer as you’d get up and measure the damage. He’d be petrified, his mouth gaping and eyes wide as he’d take in your beautiful facial features and…your angry expression. Someone would scold you for walking through the dance pit and you’d realise it was your fault and start apologizing to Jungkook, but he’d just stand there staring at you. You’d tilt your head in curiosity, asking yourself if something was wrong with him until you’d ask him if he was alright.

He’d get beet red, scratch the back of his head in embarrassment and nod shyly as he’d suddenly get super self-conscious of his sweaty state, making you smile widely. You’d tell him you think he’s cute and he’d smile back, finally gathering some courage to look you in the eyes and introduce himself. He’d long forget about the dance battle and his hyungs and try to think of a way to make you stay a little longer.


Characters:  Dean x Reader, Sam, Ellen, Jo

Summary:  The reader visits the Roadhouse with Sam and Dean, only to find that Jo wants Dean and hates you.

Word Count:  2970

Warnings:  Language, SMUT, a teensy tiny bit of violence (not graphic)

As always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated!

Tags are at the bottom lovely people!

Originally posted by jensenfans


Sam pushes open the door and holds it opens so that you can follow, shaking the dust from your boots before you enter the bar. The bar is dimly lit and smells of beer, but it’s clean and welcoming.

The woman behind the bar looks up and her face breaks into a wide smile. “Why, Sam Winchester, as I live and breathe!” The older brunette scurries around the bar and wraps Sam in a big hug. “Good to see you!”

“You too, Ellen. It’s been too long.” Sam releases Ellen and indicates you, standing next to him. “Ellen, this is (Y/N, Y/L/N), a good friend of mine.”

Ellen raises her eyebrows.“Any relation to Jim (Y/L/N)?”

“Yes,” you say, your heart aching for a moment. “He was my father.”

“Oh, honey!” Ellen surprises you by pulling you into her arms and rubbing your back. “I’m so sorry. Jim was a good hunter and an even better man.”

“Thank you, Ellen.” Blinking away the tears, you pull away and offer her a genuine smile, touched by her kindness.

“Mom?” The voice precedes the young blonde woman who walks in. “Sam?!” She rushes over and gives Sam a big hug. “Is Dean here?”

“Uh, yeah. He’ll be here in a minute. Listen, Jo, this is (Y/N)”.

You extend a hand, but Jo doesn’t see it as her eyes are glued to the door. “Huh? Oh, hey.” She gives you a distracted look before returning to door duty.  Dean chooses that moment to grace everyone with his presence. Jo’s face lights up like the 4th of July as she practically skips over to greet the handsome, rugged hunter.  

Sam pokes you in the side and you swat his hand away. He knows just how damn ticklish you are. Turning to him, you see a mischievous grin plastered on his face. “Told ya!” he teases.

He had told you that Jo has a school girl crush on Dean. You just weren’t prepared for the intensity of it. Women flirt with Dean all the time, it doesn’t bother you at all. You aren’t the jealous type. You don’t feel threatened by Jo, just a little uneasy by just how much she liked Dean. This can only end in heartache.  

Sam slings an arm lazily around your shoulders and steers you to the bar. “Buy you a drink?”

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Don’t Engage (Part 2)

Title:  Don’t Engage (Part 2)

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Characters:  Dean Winchester x female reader

Word Count:  1666

Warnings: explicit language, drinking, jealous!Dean, possessive!Dean, angry sex, rough sex, you-belong-to-me sex, unprotected sex,

Author’s Notes: Don’t Engage (Part 1) was written for @jessica-bones-winchester Dating Dean Writing Challenge. Part two was inspired by the tags on this post from @rizlow1.

Originally posted by hunterchesters

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Fill in the Blanks - Gus (1/5)

Ever wonder how Gus knew in 1x09 that Waverly was interested in a certain sheriff’s deputy? Here’s Part 1 in a drabble series attempting to fill in those blanks. Or in the alternative: four times Gus McCready thought Nicole Haught and Waverly Earp were perfect for each other and one time Gus was finally proven right. 

The first time Gus McCready meets Purgatory’s newest deputy, the kid’s stepping out of Shorty’s, a swagger in her hips and a wide, happy grin dimpling her cheeks. Gus has seen that look before. Giddy and little bit awestruck. It’s the typical reaction when customers (men most especially, but quite a few women and children too) have had the pleasure of meeting a certain town darling. But there’s something about this particular officer’s smile, the sheer joy in it, that somehow reminds Gus of Curtis and warms the cockles of her old curmudgeon’s heart.

Blissfully unaware of Gus’s approach, the deputy spins once on a thick bootheel and Gus bites the inside of her cheek to keep from chuckling.

“Mornin’ that good, officer?” Gus asks, half smirking.

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Interview SPN Cast x Reader

Request: Can you please write a SPN Cast x Reader, whatever pairing idm but can it be when they go to an interview and the interviewer asks about what they do on set, you can take it from there thanks x
Warnings: language.
Paring: Matt Cohen x Reader

“So.” The interviewer began, glancing over at the hundreds of fans who had their phones in hands and eyes gleaming after seeing their favourite actors in person. The interviewer then looked at Misha, Jensen and Jared.
“We all know about the pranks on the set but who is the worst prankster?” He asked coyly, electing piercing screams of excitement off of the crowd.
“Well-” Jared began, flicking his hair like a drama queen.
“Obviously I am, we’ve pied Misha twice, uploaded Asian porn to ____’s laptop and-”

“Woah, woah, woah hold the phone!” A voice was heard through one of the microphones back stage. The crowd screamed, their favourite actress who played the part of the Winchesters’ little sister, seeing their idol literally roll onto stage with her heelies, black jeans and black star trek shirt.
“Thou dare say thou is best prankster?” She spat sarcastically, her fake English accent hinted with her original American accent.
“You wanna start somethin’?” Misha and Jensen stood either side of Jared, their warrior characters gleaming through.

“Maybe I do?” She said, the crowd cheered enthusiastically. Suddenly, Richard Speight Jr and her fiancé Matt Cohen came onto stage, the crowd were electing piercing screams.
“You two have started war!” Richard grabbed the water gun from behind his back and sprayed the three with water.
“HELL NO!” From then on, the six were soaked from water, beer, cake, pie and a decent amount of whip cream.
Trying to stand, _____ attempted to get up but slipped on some whip cream and her heelies backfired, sending her colliding into Matt. The crowd were estatic, the highlight of the interview. By now the interview was crying with laughing and the six died down to see ____ on top of Matt.

“Hey babe.” She grinned, pressing a whip cream kiss to his. The crowd awed and snapped pictures of the two.
“Hey baby.” He shoved some pie in her face and licked it off. The fangirls were screaming messes, their phones clicking pictures.
_____ picked up her mic and said a few words before just laying on Matt’s chest.
“This is so going on tumblr.”