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kyracooneyx23 · 13 hours

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Leah williamson pleaseeee🙏🙏🙏

Enchanted - Leah Williamson

Leah Williamson x singer!reader

summary - You write a song about England's captain after meeting her briefly at an event not expecting her to share your feelings

Last night had gone by in a blur, you hardly remembered anything that happened. Everything except the short conversation you had shared with a certain blonde. You had accidentally bumped into whilst walking around causing her to spill her drink.

After the first glance, you were captivated by her. She was literally the girl you spent your spare time dreaming about after your last relationships had failed drastically. For the last 24 hours she was all you could think about your thoughts consumed by the short conversation you had shared.

Lights, camera, smile. You were walking around the large area, sipping from your third glass of champagne already and you weren't even half way through the event. You were exhausted from your recent concerts at Wembley, you would've much preferred to be at your apartment watching movies and eating junk. But instead you were being forced to smile for too many cameras.

You were contemplating pulling a sickie and getting an uber home but your mindset switched when you felt yourself collide with another body. 'Shit, I'm sorry.' You look up at the girl in front of you who's previously full glass was now all over the ground and their shoes. You were lost for words, she was hands down the most gorgeous girl you had ever laid eyes on. 'I can get you a new pair, if you'd like.' You offer but your voice is hardly a whisper, your hearts heavy beats probably more audible as nerves take over.

'It's fine, I'll probably never wear them again.' She laughs, the blondes laugh is the greatest laugh you've ever heard, you make it your goal for the night to hear it again. 'Have we met before?' She asks, a quizzical look meeting your gaze.

'I think I'd remember meeting someone as pretty as you.' You blurt out, eyes widening and hand slapping over your mouth once you realise what you just said.

She chuckled at your flustering. 'You think I'm pretty?' She teased a small smirk painting her face.

'No! Yes! I mean, please just forget I said anything.' you say shyly looking down at your feet as you went bright red. The cute blonde let out a laugh. Little did she know how cute you really thought she was.

'I'm Leah by the way.' The unfamiliar girl introduced holding her had for you to shake.

'I'm Y/N L/N.' You say back shaking the girls hand watching as her jaw drops.

'No way am I shaking the Y/N L/N's hand.' She said her voice a pitch higher from excitement. 'I feel like the worst person on earth for not recognising you sooner.' you laughed lightly before you were taken out of the moment by another voice calling Leah's name.

'Leah, I've been looking everywhere for you, let's go you have training early tomorrow.' He says drawing Leah's attention away from the you, you looked to the new man who hadn't even acknowledged your presence, but that didn't matter all that mattered was that Leah was leaving and you had no clue how you were going to find her again.

Leah began following the new man but turned around to face you again. 'It was enchanting to meet you, y/n.' Leah smiled before walking off. Yes it was very enchanting.

Her last words she spoke to you had left you in shock, almost as much shock as when you realized that Leah was in fact the Leah Williamson, you felt like an idiot for not recognizing the English footballer sooner.

But still you couldn't stop thinking about the six words that had such an affect on you that you decided to write a whole song based off them, hence why you spent 5 hours last night writing and rewriting the lyrics to your newest song. One you knew would make the fans go crazy over, but you hoped Leah wouldn't find it to weird.

yourinstagram just posted

liked by oliviarodrigo, hallebailey and 1,930,546 others

yourinstagram last night was sparkling✨

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sadiesink prettiest girl evaaa

yourinstagram says you

madisonbeer miss you y/n/n

yourinstagram come to london mads 🙏

username the things I would let her do to me

user73 the bi panic is real

maddieziegler ugly

yourinstagram 🪞🪞🪞 username02 i want a relationship with my best friend like the one they have yourinstagram trust me you don't user23 help she's so unserious

wosofan77 did anyone else see the pictures of her and leah together

LW6 yes! leah looked like the biggest fangirl

y/n'sbiggestfan is it just me or does the caption sound like a new song lyric????

yourinstagram 😏

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During a meeting with your publisher a few days after you'd finalised your new song and recorded it so it was ready to be released, you were sitting around doing nothing when a loud ping interrupted your daydreaming.

Your jaw dropped.

leahwilliamsonn started following you!

A loud scream left your mouth and you instantly rung your best friend Maddie, who you'd already told everything to involving the Leah situation.

'What do you want now?' Maddie's grumpy voice asked but you didn't care about how pissed she sounded.

'Leah followed me!' You squealed into the phone earning a groan from your best friend.

'Woo.' The american said in the most unenthusiastic, most sarcastic tone you've ever heard.

'You should be happy for your best friend.' You say childishly pouting.

'I would be if you hadn't called me at 5:50 on a Saturday morning, you know this is the day when I have a lie in.' She complains causing you to make an 'o' shape wit your mouth, you'd forgotten about the time difference between London and America.

'Sorry!' You apologise but only momentarily sympathising with the girl before returning to, in your opinion, more important matters. 'Well now you're awake, will you atleast give me advice on what to do. I don't want to embarrass myself.'

'I couldn't care less what you do, just follow her back or something. It's not that deep.' She tells you and you can tell by the way she yawns she just wants to be back in bed.

'Ok, sorry for waking you up. I'll let you get back to your beauty sleep now.' You say waiting for her to say goodbye but instead she just hands up. You roll your eyes, before opening instagram on your phone and hovering your finger over the follow back button next to Leah's profile which you had already spent hours stalking on a fake account. You repeat the words Maddie had told you in your mind a couple of times before manning up and pressing the button. After a while when nothing explodes you let out a breath you didn't realise you'd been holding.

Your publisher then returns to the room holding a couple of papers which she hands to you. 'You know the drill Miss L/N, I love the song and can't wait for you release it. It's going to be a hit.' She smiles and you grin back.

'Thank you so much for all your help, it doesn't go unnoticed.' You tell her. You both say goodbye before you head home.

For the first time in your career, you were releasing a single that you hadn't told the fans about. You didn't really care what they thought, you just prayed that a certain blonde footballer would like the song and not find it creepy.

yourinstagram just posted

liked by sadiesink, leahwilliamson and 3,476,891 others

yourinstagram E N C H A N T E D

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maddieziegler proud of you

yourinstagram 🫶🏽

y/n'sbiggestfan I was right!!!

liawaelti love the song!

katie_mccabe11 so does another Leah... victoriapelova she is going to kill you katie user27 help what are they on about

user43 does anyone know who this is about??

maddiezeigler 🙋

taylorswift 💜

yourinstagram no way your freaking kidding me

oliviarodrigo 🐐🐐🐐

leawilliamsonn 💙💙

upthegunners LEAH?!

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Your song was going viral, fans were going crazy over who you had written it about. But you didn't care, you were still obsessing over the fact that Leah hadn't just liked but also commented on your post. Maybe that meant she didn't find it weird, or maybe she hadn't put the pieces together it was about her.

Surely she had though.

You had made sure to let all your friends know how Leah had interacted with your post, but much to your dismay, most of them hung up mid call. So now you were left alone with a bottle of prosseco, celebrating your latest hit.

You were still wondering what Leah was thinking about the song. You were kind of stressed whether the Arsenal star was finding it creepy how you'd written a whole song about a girl you'd spoken to for the best part of ten minutes. But those worries were put to rest when you checked your instagram.

leahwilliamsonn just posted

liked by bethmead_, stephcatley and 92,370 others

leahwilliamsonn I was enchanted to meet you too

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katiemccabe_11 Leah the simp

leahwilliamsonn piss of McCabe

keirawalsh Leah's in loveeee

leahwilliamsonn i regret posting this now

leahfanpage the way I screamed

user65 bro same, this was not what i was expecting

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leahwilliamsonn sent yourinstagram a message...

Part 2? (also sorry this is terrible)

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #lionesses #woso #arsenal #woso x reader #woso community #engwnt #engwnt x reader #woso fanfics #woso soccer #katie mccabe #caitlin foord #steph catley #beth mead #arsenal wfc #this is woso #lionesses x reader

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ffsg0jo · 1 day

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the acrid smell of acetone permeates the room as you gently rub away the chipped black polish on sukuna's fingers. in hindsight, you really should've worn a mask, but when sukuna asked if you wanted to 'paint his nails or whatever', you jumped at the opportunity before he changed his mind.

"hurry up brat," sukuna scoffs, clicking the roof of his mouth. you squeeze the hand held in yours in annoyance and meet his gaze.

"patience kuna, you can't rush art!"

"what art, you're painting my nails black?"

"just shush and let me paint them."

"don't tell me to shush, i've beaten people up for less."

"okay big guy, anyways i'm done. gonna start painting them now."

sukuna only grunts in acknowledgement and leans back in his chair, closing his eyes. he's had a long day today, and the gentle rubbing of your hands on his calmed him down. he'd never admit it, but he finds it relaxing when you play with his hands. your soft skin pressing against his.

he missed you today. he doesn't understand why because he comes home to you every single evening, but he felt uneasy the whole day. at first, he thought he might've eaten some bad meat, but he realised he was unlocking his phone just to see the picture of you he kept as his background. he found himself scrolling through his gallery on his lunch break, which consisted of pictures of his nephews, car parts, and mainly you.

sukuna felt lovesick.

he just wanted to come home, leap straight into your arms, and stay there until he had to leave for work the next day. was that too much to ask for?

but of course, his avoidantly attached tushie would never admit it or verbalise it. it's a miracle you're fluent in sukuna and recognise his need for your touch and closeness. which is why you were taking as long as possible painting his nails. even giving him a little hand massage whilst you did it.

he hummed and sighed in relief when feeling your lips press against the palms and backs of his hands. he loved you so much.

"love you too kuna."

his eyes fling open at your words, and he realises in his hazy state of mind he said those words out loud. you giggle at the look on his face and start painting his nails, finally.

your boyfriend watches your every single move, drowning in how beautiful and majestic you look. your gentle strokes when filling his nails, the tip of your tongue peeking out in concentration and the firm grip of your hand.

before he knows it, you're already moving on to the next hand. sukuna frowns at how fast the time seems to be going. he knows he told you to hurry up, but he wanted to savour the feeling. you look up, feeling the intensity of his frown and grin at sukuna.

"we can cuddle whilst watching a movie if you'd like?"

"only if i get to pick the film," he huffs. your smile only widens.

you finish painting his nails and gently blow on all of his fingers. his hands are so beautiful. strong, veined, with calluses from working so hard all day. the paint will probably start to chip away again, in a week or two, but you'll be right here to paint a fresh new layer on.

"beautiful," sukuna whispers above you. you nod in agreement, appreciating the black on his nails. it suited him so well, but maybe you could convince him to let you choose a different colour next time. you glance up at sukuna to tell him and realise he's staring at you.

not caring if his nails have properly dried or not, he lifts his hand up to your face, gently kissing your nose, your cheek, and finally, your lips.

"beautiful," he whispers once more.

i am taking requests and writing fics and matchups for gaza. check the linked post out to find out more !!

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doctorbitchcrxft · 1 day

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Provenance | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, j e a l o u s y

Word Count: 6703

A/N: Taglist will be closing at the start of season 2! if you aren't currently tagged, and you'd like to join, please please let me know within the next two posts!!

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You gripped your beer tightly watching Dean getting a girl’s number across the bar from you.

“(Y/N), if you hold that thing any tighter, you’re gonna break it,” Sam snorted. “What’s your deal?”

You looked back at Sam but were unable to pull your eyes from Dean and his new “friend” for longer than a few seconds. “Nothing.” You took a swig of your drink.

“Are you sure you don’t know how you feel about Dean?” the brunet taunted.

You shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

He snickered in response and returned to looking over the papers in front of him.

You waved Dean over, who held a hand up behind the woman’s back to get you to wait. You gestured again and his smile dropped. He said something to her quickly before making his way back over to you.

“I think we got something,” Sam told his brother.

Dean grinned over his shoulder. “Oh, yeah, me too. I think we need to take a little shore leave; just a little bit. What do you think, huh? I'm so in the door with this one.”

You rolled your eyes. “So, what are we today, Dean? Rock stars, army rangers?”

“Reality TV scouts,” he grinned at you, ignoring the bite in your voice. “Looking for people with special skills. I mean hey, it's not that far off right?”

“If by ‘not far off’ you mean ‘completely off the mark,’ then you’re spot on,” you deadpanned.

Dean shot you a look while he turned to his brother. “By the way, she's got a friend over there. Possibly hook you up. What do you think?”

“Dean, no thanks, I can get my own dates,” Sam responded to his question.

“Yeah, you can, but you don't.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Dean shook his head. “Nothing. What you got?”

“Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home, a few days ago. Throats were slit. There were no prints, no murder weapons, all—” He trailed off as his brother looked back at the women at the bar.

“Dean!” you snapped your fingers at him.

He turned back. “Huh, what?”

“No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and windows locked from the inside,” Sam continued.

“Could just be a garden variety murder, you know, not our department,” Dean answered.

“No. Dad says different.”

“What do you mean?” Dean’s interest was piqued at the mention of his dad.

You pointed at the map. “John noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First one here in 1912, second, right here in 1945, and the third in 1970. Same M.O. as the Telescas. Throats slit, doors locked from the inside; the whole nine. Now, so much time passed that nobody checked the pattern. Except for your dad. It’s frustrating how much better he is at this than me sometimes,” you muttered at the end of your sentence.

“Alright, I'm with ya. It's worth checking out. We can't pick this up ‘til first thing though right?” Dean asked, trying to contain his excitement.

“Yeah,” Sam answered.

“Good.” Before you could stop him, Dean was off to the two women again.

You were fuming; staring daggers at him and downing the rest of your drink.

Sam snickered at you. “Let’s get you out of here before you end up killing one of those girls.”

“Nah, I’d kill your brother. They didn’t do anything wrong,” you responded, helping Sam pick up the papers scattered about the table. “How ‘bout the Telescas’ house?” you asked.

***

You and Sam headed back to the motel you were staying in to research the history of the Telescas’ home. You sprawled out across Dean’s bed with your laptop, and Sam sat on his bed with his laptop.

“Finding anything?” you asked him.

“Nope. You?”

You shook your head. “Nada.”

He shut his laptop. “So? You wanna talk about it?”

You shut yours, too. “About what?”

“Dean?”

“Oh, hell no,” you snorted.

“You two are made for each other,” he deadpanned at your boxed-up emotions.

“Fuck off, Sam,” you retorted. “What about you? Still not ready to jump back into the dating pool?” You snuggled into the blankets on Dean’s bed, reveling in his scent emanating off them.

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What was she like?” you asked after a moment.

“Who?”

“Jessica. You never told me much about her.”

He sighed. “She was just… the best, man. You two would’ve gotten along great, honestly. She was—” he grinned sadly at the thought of her, “—so smart. So beautiful. Quick, witty, and…” he shook his head. “I was looking for wedding rings. Few weeks before she...”

You smiled sadly at him. “She sounds amazing.”

“She was,” he responded. A quiet settled over the room.

“Don’t you think she would’ve wanted you to be… I don’t know, happy? Do you think she’d want you to move on? It’s been almost a year,” you said. “Jesus, I’ve known you guys for almost a year now," you realized.

He chuckled before going quiet again momentarily. “I think she would. But Jess… I don’t know if I’ll ever be fully over her. She was my best friend, y’know?”

You nodded. “I get it. I’m glad you had that with her, though. Sounds like you really loved each other.”

“We did.”

You and Sam went silent once more, and you succumbed to the tiredness of your limbs and mind. You were so comforted by the scent of worn leather, Dean’s cologne, and whiskey, that you slept better than you had in years.

***

When you woke up the next morning, Sam was standing over you, shaking you gently. You popped up and grabbed his wrist, twisting it and putting a hand to his throat. “Hey, hey,” he tried to calm you down, “Dean’s back.”

You released him immediately. “Sorry, dude. Uh… reflexes,” you laughed awkwardly.

“It’s okay. Dean does that, too.”

The man in question stumbled into the room tiredly. “Move your asses. Let’s go.”

***

You and Sam had just swept the Telescas’ house for EMF while Dean slept in the car trying to get over his hangover. When you returned to the car, you beeped the horn. Dean shot up a foot in the air and groaned.

“Man, that is so not cool.” He adjusted his sunglasses and leaned back against the car door. You and Sam climbed into your seats and began to explain what you had been up to.

“We just swept the Telescas with EMF. It's clean. And last night, while you were, well, out—” Sam trailed off.

Dean’s smirk made your stomach drop. “Good times.”

“—we checked the history of the house.”

“Nothing strange about the Telescas, either,” you said, swallowing your feelings.

“Alright,” Dean’s gravelly voice came, “so if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents. Cursed object or something.”

“The house is clean,” you said.

“Yeah I know, you said that.”

“No, no, it’s empty. No furniture, nothing,” you explained.

Dean turned back to you. “Where's all their stuff?”

***

You felt so out of place in the swanky auction house the Telescas’ belongings had been brought to. Even the Impala looked like an outcast in the parking lot full of McLarens and Corvettes.

You and the brothers wandered around the auction house, and you wrapped your jacket tightly around yourself.

“Consignment auctions, estate sales. Looks like a garage sale for Wasps if you ask me,” Dean commented. He took some food from a tray table as a man came up behind you.

“Can I help you?” the man questioned.

You wheeled around to face him.

“I'd like some champagne please,” Dean said in a mock posh voice.

You could’ve killed him. “He’s not a waiter.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow at you, and you held out your hand to the man. “I’m (Y/N) Dewitt. This is Sam and Dean Connors. We’re with Connors Limited. We’re art dealers.”

The man didn’t give you the courtesy of a handshake. You fought the urge to make an inappropriate comment.

“You. Are… art dealers,” the man said, clearly having difficulty grasping that concept. “I'm Daniel Blake, this is my auction house. Now, this is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list.”

“We're there, Chuckles, you just need to take another look.” Dean, of course, talked through a mouth full of food.

You shot a sharp look at Dean as he took a glass of champagne off the tray. He turned and walked off, and you followed him.

“Can you chill out?” you asked him.

“What?” he asked through a mouthful of champagne.

You rolled your eyes. “You know what I’m talking about. I don’t like this crowd either, but relax.” You noticed a painting just beyond where you and Dean were talking. It was of a family in an American Gothic style; presumably from the early 1900s. The family contained three young girls in frilly dresses, a man with a gaunt and creepy face, and a woman you assumed was the mother seated in a chair.

“A fine example of American Primitive wouldn't you say?” a woman’s voice called from behind you.

You turned to the place the voice came from to find an extremely good looking woman in a sleek black dress with glossed lips descending the staircase. You noticed Dean beginning to ogle her as Sam answered her. “Well, I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses. But you knew that, you just wanted to see if I did.”

The woman smiled as she approached you. “Guilty. And clumsy. I apologize. I'm Sarah Blake.”

“I’m Sam,” he said. “This is my… brother, Dean.” Dean was still stuffing his face with food from passing trays. “And our friend, (Y/N).”

“Dean. Can we get you some more mini-quiche?” Sarah questioned.

You snorted. You liked her.

“I'm good, thanks,” he smiled through a full mouth.

“So, can I help you with something?” she asked Sam. You knew she liked him; she was giving him the same look you often gave Dean.

“Yeah, actually. What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?” Sam asked her.

She grimaced. “The whole thing's pretty grisly if you ask me, selling your things this soon. But Dad's right about one thing, sensationalism brings out the crowds. Even the rich ones.”

“Is it possible to see the provenances?” Sam asked.

The man from earlier came up behind you. “I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that.”

“Why not?” you asked.

“You're not on the guest list. And I think it's time to leave.”

You rolled your eyes, dropping your polite disposition. “Don’t have to tell us twice.”

“Apparently, I do,” he said.

“C’mon, Dean,” you said, dragging his arm out.

***

You and the brothers found a decently priced motel and approached the rooms you had been assigned.

“Grant Wood, Grandma Moses?” Dean scoffed at his brother.

“Art history course. It's good for meeting girls,” Sam replied simply.

Dean unlocked the door to his room and chuckled. “It's like I don't even know you.”

You walked a little further down to the room next to theirs and unlocked it only to find a gaudily outfitted room full of obnoxious disco decor. The "do not disturb" hanger was even of John Travolta’s silhouette from Saturday Night Fever.

“Huh.” You dropped your bag off and headed back to the boys’ room.

“What was… providence?” Dean was asking as you entered the room.

“Provenance,” you corrected. “It’s like a biography for a painting. You use ‘em to check the history of the pieces; in this case, to see if they have a freaky past.”

“Alright, professor,” Dean taunted you. “Well, we're not getting anything out of Chuckles, but Sarah…” he smirked at his brother.

“Yeah, maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin,” Sam smirked back.

“Not me,” Dean laughed.

You shot a look at Sam, too.

He seemed only mildly horrified. “No, no, no, pickups are your thing, Dean.”

“It wasn't my butt she was checking out,” Dean snorted.

You giggled despite yourself.

“In other words, you want me to use her to get information,” Sam deadpanned.

“Sometimes you gotta take one for the team. Call her,” Dean instructed his brother.

Sam rolled his eyes, but took out his phone. You weren’t sure when he had gotten her number, but he left about an hour later to take her out to dinner.

You and Dean sat in awkward silence for a bit.

“So…”

You went silent again.

“What’s goin’ on with us, (Y/N)? You’ve barely spoken a word to me this whole trip.”

You huffed. “Nothing.”

“Obviously, it’s not nothing.” Dean held your challenging stare.

“Seriously, drop it, please,” you said.

“Fine. You wanna go get some food?”

You smiled despite yourself. “You know I do.”

You and Dean found a crappy diner with deliciously greasy burgers to stuff your faces with.

“So, how ‘bout you, sweetheart? Why don’t you ever go out?” Dean asked.

“On dates, you mean?”

He nodded.

You nibbled on a fry. “I’m just not one for hookups. I can’t take ‘em,” you admitted. “You, though, are king of the unattached drifters.”

He chuckled. “What’s wrong with hookups?

“I get too attached, which kind of defeats the whole purpose,” you replied. “The idea of being intimate with somebody I don’t even know makes me want to throw up.”

“Why? You’re gorgeous. Anybody would kill to get with you," he said casually.

You ignored the way your heart swelled in your chest. “It’s not that, it’s just…” you sighed. “I’m, like, allergic to vulnerability.”

“I get it,” Dean chuckled. “You know by now I’m not exactly the best with it, either.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re worse than me,” you quipped. “You look like you’re gonna throw up any time you have to tell me you’re sorry or something like that.”

“Maybe it’s just your face,” he retorted.

“Hey!” you giggled. “You can’t call me gorgeous one minute then tell me looking at me makes you sick the next.”

He chuckled. “I just did, so…”

“Whatever, Winchester. What is it about hookups you enjoy so much, anyway?”

He shrugged and took a bite of his burger. “Sex is just fun, I guess. Always helps me blow off steam.”

You scoffed. “I’m sure it does.”

“I’m serious! Helps me take a break from… all this.” He gestured around him.

“That’s why you have hobbies, Dean. Sex is not a hobby.”

“It can be! You draw, Sam reads, I fuck."

“Well, get a better one,” you scoffed.

“What would you suggest I do? Knitting?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, just… something a little more wholesome, maybe. You said it yourself, it doesn’t always make you feel great.”

“Never should’ve told you that,” he responded.

“Well, ya did, so.”

He snorted at you. “It’s frustrating how well you know me sometimes.”

“Oh, look at that, another crumb of vulnerability from Mr. Closed Book.”

“That’s the best diss you could come up with?”

“Hey, it’s not easy being effortlessly funny all the time,” you retorted. “It’s a lot of pressure.”

***

When you and Dean returned to the motel room, you pulled out your whetstone to sharpen your knives.

“Who you plannin’ on carvin’ up, sweetheart?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” you answered.

“Remind me not to piss you off,” he remarked.

“You do literally all the time,” you quipped. “You’re lucky you’re still in one piece. If you give me yours, I’ll sharpen ‘em, too.”

“Thanks,” he said. He handed his knives over to you.

Sam burst through the door at that moment holding a stack of papers. “Got ‘em.”

“So she just handed the providences over to you?” Dean questioned.

“Provenances,” you corrected.

“We went back to her place, I got a copy of the papers—”

Dean raised his eyebrows expectantly. “And?”

“And nothing. That's it. I left.”

“You didn't have to con her or do any… special favors or anything like that?” Dean questioned.

“Dean, would you get your mind out of the gutter, please?” the younger brother scoffed.

“You know when this whole thing's done, we could stick around for a little bit,” he suggested.

“Why?”

“So you could take her out again. It's obvious you're into her, even I could see that.”

Sam ignored his brother. “Hey, I think I've got something here.”

You headed over to Sam’s seated position at the desk and looked over his shoulder at the papers. “ ‘Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family, painted 1910’,” you read off.

“Now, compare the names of the owners with my dad's journal,” Sam said.

Dean pulled it out. “First purchased in 1912, Peter Simms. Peter Simms murdered 1912. Same thing in 1945. Oh, same thing in 1970.”

“Then stored, until it was donated to a charity auction last month. Where the Telescas bought it,” Sam continued.

“So what do you think? It's haunted? Or cursed?” you asked.

“Either way, it's toast,” said Dean, getting up from his bed.

***

Under the cover of night, you and the brothers broke into the auction house. You were consistently impressed with and sexually frustrated by how easy scaling tall fences and gates were for Dean.

“Come on!” Dean urged you.

You disarmed the security alarm, wearing gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints. “Go ahead,” you whispered.

Dean picked the lock at your cue. You shone your flashlight ahead of you searching for the painting. When you found it, you and the boys were in and out within minutes. You and the boys had clearly been breaking and entering for years. You found it comical almost how good you were. You brought the painting out to a field behind the arthouse and set it alight.

Dean dusted off his hands. “Ugly ass thing. If you ask me, we're doing the art world a favor.”

***

Dean banged on your door the next morning. “We got a problem. I can't find my wallet.”

You opened it. “How the hell do you lose your wallet?”

“I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night.”

“Fuck, dude, that’s bad.” You started pulling on your boots as he paced around the room.

“Yeah, I know. It's got my prints, my ID— well, my fake ID anyway. We gotta get it before someone else finds it. Come on.”

You and the brothers hurried around the auction house searching for the wallet. Sam was clearly frustrated with his brother until he caught sight of Sarah.

“Hey guys!” she smiled.

You wheeled around at the sound of her voice and attempted to act cool.

“Sarah! Hey,” Sam breathed.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Ahh, we.... we are leaving town and, you know, we came to say goodbye,” Sam responded.

“What are you talking about Sam, we're sticking around for at least another day or two,” Dean grinned as he strolled up to the two. He took his wallet out of his pocket and shot a look at Sam. “By the way, I'm gonna go ahead and give you that $20 I owe you.” He turned to Sarah. “I always forget, you know.” Dean chuckled and you grinned as he held out the cash to his brother. Sam took it and glared at him. “Well, we’ll leave you two crazy kids alone, I gotta go do something… somewhere.”

“Smooth, Dean,” you told him as you walked away from Sarah and Sam. The two of you headed back out to the Impala and sat in it waiting for Sam. When he returned, he was frantically saying the painting was back in the auction house.

“I don't understand. We burned the damn thing,” Sam rushed out.

“Yeah, thank you, Captain Obvious,” Dean remarked.

“Alright, we just need to figure out another way to get rid of it. Any ideas?” you chimed in.

“Well, um, in almost all the lore about haunted paintings it's always the painting's subject that haunts 'em,” Sam began.

“Yeah. So we just need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family and that creepy-ass painting. What were their names again?”

“Merchant,” you answered. “I say we find us a bookstore.”

***

And so, that was where you headed. You found a proprietor whose personality was interesting, to say the least. You found his quirk had a bit of charm to it.

“You said the Isaiah Merchant family right?” he asked you.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Sam said.

You and Dean were flicking through a book with pictures of guns in it. The proprietor laid a book of newspaper clippings on the table in front of you. “I dug up every scrap of local history I could find. So, are you folks crime buffs?”

“Kinda. Yeah. Why do you ask?” you responded.

He held up the newspaper article before him. It talked about the sinking of the Titanic, and just next to it, read “Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself.”

“Yes. Yeah, that sounds about right,” Dean replied.

“The whole family was killed?” You tilted your head.

“It seems this Isaiah, he slits his kids' throats, then his wife, then himself. Now, he was a barber by trade. Used a straight razor,” the proprietor explained.

“Why'd he do it?” Sam questioned.

“Let's look. Ahh... ‘People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament. Controlled his family with an iron fist. Wife, uh, two sons, adopted daughter…’ “ he skimmed on. “Yeah, yeah, yeah… ‘There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave.’ Which of course you know in that day and age, um, so instead, old man Isaiah, well, he gave them all a shave.” He drew his hand across his throat and made a noise to go along with it. You and Dean joined in laughing with the proprietor.

“Does it say what happened to the bodies?” asked Dean.

The proprietor shook his head. “Just that they were all cremated.”

“Anything else?” you asked.

“Yeah. Actually, I found a picture of the family. It's right here. Somewhere. Right— here it is.”

It was a picture of the painting, but something seemed off to you.

“Hey, could we get a copy of this please?” Sam asked the man.

He nodded, and returned a few minutes later with it.

***

You and the boys sat at a table in the motel room and looked over the copy of the picture.

“I’m telling you,” you started, “The picture at the auction house, Dad’s looking down. Here, dad’s looking out. The painting changed.”

“Alright, so you think that Daddy dearest is trapped in the painting and is handing out Columbian neckties like he did with his family?” Dean questioned.

“Well, yeah, it seems like it. But if his bones are already dusted, then how are we gonna stop him?” Sam asked.

“Maybe other things changed in the painting, too. Maybe it could give us some clues,” you answered.

“What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?” Sam asked.

“Maybe,” you shrugged.

Dean looked down at you, confused. “I’m lost. Still waiting for the movie on that one. Anyway, we gotta get back in and see that painting.” He walked over to his bed and laid back, crossing his arms. “Which is a good thing ‘cause you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend.”

Sam huffed. “Dude, enough already.”

“What?” he responded.

“What? Ever since we got here, you been trying to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, all right?” he said defensively.

“Sam, relax,” you told him.

“Well, you like her don't you?” Dean pushed.

Sam threw his arms up and looked to the ceiling.

“Alright, you like her, she likes you, you’re both consenting adults…” Dean trailed off with a smile.

“What's the point, Dean? We'll just leave. We always leave,” came Sam’s frustrated response.

“Well, I'm not talking about marriage, Sam.”

Sam snarled angrily. “You know, I don't get it. What do you care if I hook up?”

“ ‘Cause then maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the time,” Dean answered calmly.

Sam stared at him and huffed before looking away.

“Look, I’m not crazy about hookups either, but maybe it would be helpful,” you suggested.

“And this isn't about just hooking up, okay?” Dean continued. “I mean, I think that this Sarah girl could be good for you. And... I don't mean any disrespect, but I'm sure this is about Jessica, right? Now I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that, but... I would think that she would want you to be happy.” Sam’s eyes welled with tears as his brother continued to talk. “God forbid, have fun once in a while. Wouldn't she?”

“Yeah, I know she would,” Sam responded softly. “Yeah, you're right. Part of this is about Jessica. But not the main part.”

“What’s it about?” you asked.

He wouldn’t answer you.

“Well, we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so…” Dean trailed off.

Sam picked up his phone and cleared his throat. Dean shook his head and closed his eyes, settling back on his bed.

“Sarah, hey, it's Sam… Hey, hi… Good. Good, yeah. Umm. What about you?... Yeah good, good, really good.”

Dean opened one eye and looked at his brother. “Smooth.”

You suppressed a laugh.

“So, ah, so listen,” Sam continued. “Me and my brother were, uh, thinking that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again. I- I think maybe we are interested in buying it… What?!”

At Sam’s tone, you and Dean snapped to attention.

“Who'd you sell it to?” Sam stood up.

Dean rose and came to stand next to you.

“Sarah, I need an address right now,” Sam urged her.

Once she’d given it to you, you and the boys sped away in the Impala to an upscale neighborhood. You and the boys were surprised to see another car parked right outside the building: Sarah’s.

“Sam, what's happening?” she asked as you and the boys ran up the front steps of the house.

“I told you, you shouldn't have come,” he responded.

“Hello, anyone home?” Dean banged on the heavy front door.

“You said Evelyn might be in danger; what sort of danger?” Sarah asked Sam frantically.

“I can't knock this sucker down. I gotta pick it.” Dean crouched down in front of you and you moved over to the windows, banging on them with all your might.

“What are you guys, burglars?” Sarah yelped.

“I wish it was that simple. Look, you really should wait in the car. It's for your own good,” Sam told her.

Dean got the door open and you followed him inside quickly.

“The hell I will. Evelyn's a friend,” she said, trailing behind you and the boys. “Evelyn?” She moved over to the elderly woman sitting half-turned away from you. Something was wrong and you knew it; the woman’s gaze seemed completely empty. “Evelyn? It's Sarah Blake. Are you alright?” She touched her shoulder gently.

“Sarah, don't. Sarah!” Sam told her.

Evelyn’s head tipped back, exposing her slashed throat.

Sarah jumped back in horror and screamed. Sam put his arm around her and led her out of the room. You and Dean stared up at the painting before following the younger brother out of the house.

***

Back in the motel room, you and Dean clacked away at the keys on your laptops while Sam paced in front of you. A knock on the door stirred all of you from your thoughts. Sarah stormed into the room and brushed past Sam.

“Hey. You alright?” he asked her.

“No, actually, I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's— alone— and found her like that,” she answered, wheeling around.

“Thank you,” Sam nodded.

“Don't thank me. I'm about to call them right back if you don't tell me what the hell's going on. Who's killing these people?”

Sam looked back at you and Dean, and you shrugged.

“What,” he told her.

“What?”

“It's not 'who'. It's 'what' is killing those people,” he explained.

Sarah was still looking at Sam like he was insane.

“Sarah, you saw that painting move,” he sighed.

The woman began to pace. “No, no. I was— I was seeing things. It's impossible.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to our world,” Dean grinned.

“Sarah, I know this sounds crazy, but we think that that painting is haunted.”

Sarah laughed humorlessly but had tears in her eyes. “You’re joking.” She looked between you and the Winchesters. “You're not joking. God, the guys I go out with.”

“Sarah, think about it. Evelyn, the Telescas, they both had the painting. And there have been others before that. Wherever this thing goes, people die. And we're just trying to stop it. And that's the truth,” the brunet told her.

“Then I guess you'd better show me. I'm coming with you,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What? No. Sarah no, you should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous and… and I don't want you to get hurt,” he admitted.

“Look, you guys are probably crazy, but if you're right about this? Well, me and my Dad sold that painting that might have gotten these people killed. Look, I'm not saying I'm not scared, because I am scared as hell, but I'm not going to run and hide either.” Sarah strutted over to the door. “So are we going or what?” She walked out.

“Sam?” Dean said. “Marry that girl.”

***

You and the boys returned to Evelyn’s house to scope out the crime scene a little further. Sam picked the lock to let you, his brother, and Sarah inside.

“Uh, isn’t this a crime scene?” Sarah protested.

Dean smirked. “You've already lied to the cops. What's another infraction?”

Once inside, you and Sam got the painting down from off the wall to examine it.

“Aren't you worried that it's gonna kill us?” Sarah asked.

“Nah, it seems to do its thing at night. I think we're alright in the daylight.”

You took the copy of the painting out of your pocket. “Sam, check it out. The razor: it's closed in this one, but it's open in that one.”

“What are you guys looking for?” she asked.

“Well, if the spirit's changing aspects of the painting, then it's doing so for a reason,” Dean explained.

“And look, the painting in the painting,” you pointed out. “Looks like a crypt, or a mausoleum or something.”

Dean grabbed a thick glass ashtray and used it as a magnifying glass. You ignored how your body came alight as he wound his arm around you to reach the painting. “Merchant,” he read out.

***

Your next stop was a graveyard. Several, in fact. You stepped over gravestones carefully to avoid disrespecting the dead even further.

“What, are you superstitious?” Dean asked.

“A little, actually. I think I’m in such deep shit with the spirits already; I don’t wanna make it worse,” you laughed.

“You are somethin’ else, woman,” he smirked. “This is the third boneyard we've checked,” Dean addressed your group. “I think this ghost is jerking us around.”

Sam and Sarah talked amongst themselves behind you and you and Dean walked a bit ahead.

“Over there,” you said, pointing to a mausoleum. The group followed you into the mausoleum where you found four urns in front of little glass-fronted boxes on one wall. On the opposite, there were five brass nameplates.

Sarah looked at one of the boxes containing a little porcelain doll with brown hair. “Okay, that right there is the creepiest thing I've ever seen.”

“It was a sort of tradition at the time,” Sam told her. “Whenever a child died, sometimes they'd preserve the kid's favorite toy in a glass case; put it next to the headstone or crypt.”

Wind blew in the mausoleum, sending a chill down your spine.

“Notice anything strange here?” Dean asked.

“Ah, where do I start?” remarked Sarah.

Sam snickered.

“No, that's not what I mean. Look at the urns,” said Dean.

“Yeah. There’s only four. Where’s the dad?” you questioned.

***

You and Dean discovered that Isaiah’s body had been buried in that same cemetery away from the rest of his family. You returned there that night with Sarah in tow.

You stood watch with Sarah while the boys dug the hole down to Isaiah’s corpse.

“You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this,” she said.

Sam climbed out of the hole laboriously. “Well, ah, this isn't exactly the first grave we've dug. Still think I'm a catch?”

You giggled when Dean’s shovel tapped something hard. “Think I've got something.” He cracked the coffin open to reveal Isaiah’s rotten bones. You helped him out of the ground and began pouring salt and kerosene over the body.

“You've been a real pain in the ass, Isaiah. Good riddance.” Dean tossed the match he’d struck down on top of the body.

“God, I will never get used to that smell,” you commented.

“What? Burning flesh?” the older Winchester turned his head to you.

You made a face and scrunched up your nose to which Dean just smirked at you and chuckled.

***

You returned to Evelyn’s house soon after to make sure the job was complete and bury the painting. You and Dean remained outside and told Sam to go in with Sarah. You and Dean smiled at each other before turning the radio up. A love ballad played loudly through the speakers, and Sam turned to the two of you. You both snickered at the “what the fuck” gesture he was giving you. Sam motioned for the two of you to cut the music. You sighed and turned it off.

Before you and Dean could say a word to each other, the door slammed shut behind Sam and Sarah. You and Dean jumped out of the car and ran across the lawn, trying your best to unlock it.

“Guys! Hey! Is that you?” Sam called from inside.

“Sammy, you alright?” the older brother asked. Moments later, you got a call from Sam.

“Tell me you slammed the front door,” you said after you answered.

“Nope, it wasn't me. I think it was the little girl,” he told you.

“The little girl? What girl?”

“What’s he saying?” Dean interjected, leaning close to your ear and the phone.

“Yeah, she's out of the painting. I think it might've been her all along,” Sam said.

You snorted humorlessly. “The dad was trying to warn us all along. He was looking down at her the whole time.”

“Hey, hey, hey, let's recap later all right? Just get us out of here," the younger brother rushed out.

“Well, Dean’s trying to pick the lock, but the door won’t budge.”

“Well, knock it down!”

“Okay, smartass, just let me get my battering ram,” you remarked.

“(Y/N), the damn thing is coming!”

“I know, I know, just hold it off til we figure something out. Get some salt or iron or something,” you responded. “Stay on the phone with me!”

Moments later, you heard Sam say to himself, “What kind of house doesn't have salt? Low-sodium freaks.” Another minute or so went by before he spoke back into the phone. “Uh, (Y/N), give me a sec, don't go anywhere.”

You and Dean began to walk around the outside looking for an alternative entrance. A bit of yelling and crashing was heard on the other end of the phone. “You okay, dude?”

“Yeah, for now,” he responded.

“How’re we gonna waste her?” you asked.

“I don't know, she was already cremated. There's nothing left to burn.”

Dean got close to the phone again.

“Then how's she still around?” you challenged.

“There must be something else!” Sam went silent on the other end, but you could faintly hear Sarah’s voice.

“(Y/N), Sarah said the doll might have the kid's real hair. Human remains; same as bones.”

“The mausoleum,” you and Dean said in unison.

“Hang tight, Sam,” you said, snapping your phone shut. You and Dean sprinted back to the car, and Dean drove as fast and as wildly as he possibly could.

“One of these days, your driving’s gonna fucking kill us all,” you said, gripping the leather of the seat next to you and the door.

“Not now, (Y/N),” he responded evenly, driving even faster. He plowed straight through the fence of the cemetery and drove right up to the mausoleum. You and Dean jumped out of the car and hurried into the building.

Dean pounded the door of the glass box containing the doll with the butt of his gun, and then went to walk out of the mausoleum. “Come on, Dean,” he grimaced. “Cover your eyes!” He told you. He shot at the box, and you shielded your face as he did so. You leapt back into action and knocked away more of the glass with your hands, cutting them as you did so. You ignored the burning in your palms and took the doll out of its case.

You held the doll’s hair over the lighter, which Dean was having trouble lighting. “Come on, come on!” he said. Thankfully, the lighter caught the hairs of the doll and sent it up in flames. You dropped it on the floor between you and Dean and watched the rest of the doll burn.

Dean pulled out his phone moments later to call his brother. “Sam, you good?” He breathed a sigh of relief and hung up the phone.

You looked down at your bloodied hands. Dean followed your gaze. “(Y/N), you maniac, what were you doin’ pawin' at that glass with your bare hands, huh?”

“It seemed like a good idea in the moment,” you mumbled.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, huh?” He guided you back to the car. He held your wrists and sat you down in the front seat of his car. He went to his trunk and returned a few moments later. He sat next to you and gingerly began wiping down your hands. You hissed and grabbed his hand at the pain. He looked back up to you and paused momentarily.

“Sorry,” you said.

“All good,” he responded and went back to work. He gently cleaned your wounds with an alcohol-soaked rag and began to wrap up your left hand. You watched as he worked, heart swelling at the kind gesture.

“Thank you,” you said.

“You’d do the same for me,” he muttered.

“I would,” you affirmed, smiling.

He picked a piece of glass out of your right hand. You hissed again.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he said. “This one’s probably gonna need stitches.” He handed you his flask. “Drink this.”

You did as told and took a sip, swallowing sharply as you felt the first prick of the needle in your palm. “I’m not trying to be a little bitch. I’m really not when it comes to pain,” you said. “I can finish stitchin’ me up on my own if you wanna get back to Sam—”

“No. Let me,” he responded authoritatively. He looked up through his eyelashes at you before returning his attention to your fingers. He ran his along yours and gingerly cleaned the cuts, giving special attention to the deeper ones before bandaging the exterior of your hands. You flexed them painfully.

“Thank you. Seriously,” you said softly.

“Any time,” he responded.

***

“This was archived in the county records. The Merchant's adopted daughter, Melanie. Know why she was up for adoption? 'Cause her real family was murdered in their beds," Dean explained to you. “Who'd suspect her? Sweet little girl. So then she kills Isaiah and his family. The old man takes the blame. His spirit's been trying to warn people ever since.”

“Huh,” you said. “Psycho bitch.”

He scoffed. “You know you’re talking about a kid, right?”

“Yeah. Psycho bitch all the same.”

You and Dean were waiting outside of the auction house for Sam to finish talking to Sarah. You and he leaned against the car, watching Sarah and Sam talking at the door. Sam turned away from her before turning back moments later. He grabbed Sarah’s waist and pulled him to her, kissing her deeply.

“That's my boy,” Dean smiled.

“Alright, perv,” you remarked. You shoved him down into the car.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @more-espresso-less-depresso-og @mysticmyth @favoritefandoms27 @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h

quite a few tags are broken; so sorry, my loves!! make sure you have my blog notifs on so you don't miss a chapter, and please let me know if ive misspelled your blog name!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #spn #supernatural #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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plussizefantasia · 1 day

Text

Broken Together

BlackCat!reader x Bucky Barnes

Chapter 5/6 : <Prev/ Next>

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Talks of violence, suggestive language

A/N: okay so I fully planned to do a smut scene but then I chickened out because I've never written one before so.... sorry. ALSO: keep your eyes peeled for the kickoff post of my 300-follower (holy shit) celebration along with chapter 3 of the Fluttering Hearts series, both will be coming out before the end of the day!

You nod a solitary nod and reach for the door handle.

“I love you.”

That stops you cold in your tracks.

“Don’t say that.”

“That’s not really the reaction I was looking for if I’m honest.”

“Well what did you want me to say James?”

“I don’t know, really anything but don’t say that. I tell you how I’m feeling and you know that I’m not good with that feeling shit and your reaction is to tell me not to say it?”

“Jesus Bucky, I can’t ever tell with you! Two minutes ago you were giving me the silent treatment and being all pissy and now you tell me you love me? What am I supposed to do with that?!”

“I- just… I spent the whole night worrying about you, you were back there in that room all alone with those bastards and I couldn’t get to you. I just had to listen through comms and hope and pray to whatever God there is that you come out the other side.”

“Bucky, I can take care of myself.”

“I know that, really I do. I have never ever doubted that you could handle yourself but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying when you go somewhere I can’t reach you. It’s bad enough I had to watch you hanging off that asshole all night. Watching him touch you in the way I’d wanted to all night.” Bucky’s hands tighten around the wheel. You watch as he swallows something caught in his throat.“I watched and stood there like an idiot while he held you close and made you laugh and did everything I’d been dreaming about. I couldn’t look away though, as much as I wanted to becuase even a glimpse of your smile is enough to make all that shit worth it. But then I hear you being threatened, I watch you walk away with the target and not even five minutes later he pulls a gun on you? It took everyhting in me not to run to you, not to burst in and protect you with all I have.”

“I don’t need your protection-”

“I know that! Goddamn it I know that! I know that your amazing, that’s the only thing that kept me from running in there, knowing how good you are. How good my girl is at her job, she doesn’t need me, but I really fucking wish she did.”

“You’re girl? I’m not your girl James I- you don’t even like me?”

“What?! Why the hell do you think I don’t like you?”

You scoff, “You give me shit all the time. You call me Fury’s pet and you never fail to let everyone know just how much you don’t trust me.”

“I trust you, I trust you with my whole life, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“You have a funny fuckign way of showing it.” You cross your arms over your chest, this whole night scratch that day has been a total fucking emotional rollercoaster, you almost died and now here you are. The man who you love to hate and hate to love is spouting all kinds of heartfult shit and you’re reeling, I mean… what are you supposed to say to that?!

Bucky takes your silence harshly, he tries to fill the space with as many words as he can. He knows that he’s not good at this shit. He isn’t James Barnes the ladies man from the forties anymore, he’s too broken for that. But he can tell your broken too, and maybe you can be broken together?

“When I say that I love you, I mean it. I mean that I can’t stop thinking about you, when youre not next to me it’s like i can’t breathe. When I hear you laugh or see you smile my whole world lights up. God even when you’re yelling at me an throwing pillows and shit I can’t help but feel like a goddamn wire. I don’t know when I realized it was love, if it was months ago or minutes ago but I’m not taking it back. I don’t think I can ever take it back.” Bucky ends his rant with several big breaths. The whole time he was talking, his eyes never left the road, his hands never left the wheel.

“James, I- God fuck. I’m not a good person. I don’t deserve good things. Anyone i’ve ever been close to has told me the same shit, i’m too broken to be good to anyone.”

“Yeah. You’re broken. You’re a smart-mouth little piece of shit who doesn’t lok after herself and can’t follow a sleep schedule for the life of her and I love you.” He finally looks into your eyes.

“I don’t need a perfect girl, I don’t want a perfect girl, someone to hang off my arm and laugh at my jokes and just stand there looking pretty? I’ve had that and it gets boring really fucking fast. But you? I could spend the rest of my life trying to figure you out and I really really want to.”

“I’m not easy, and I don’t think I ever will be.”

“I like a challenge.”

“Well,-”

“Jesus, Stop trying to talk me out of this, I want you. I want you and all the messy shit that come’s with that.”

“I’m running out of reasons anyway.”

“What does that mean… for us I guess?”

“It means that if you can get us back to the hotel within the next five minutes I’m gonna let you see the pretty little number I have on underneath this dress.”

Bucky slammed on the gas.

_____

It took the two of you four minutes to get to the hotel, the entire time people were honking at your car weaving through traffic. You’re really fucking surprised that the two of you didn’t get pulled over.

Four minutes is a lot of time though, especially when your nervous as hell and have a penchant for self-sabatage. You don’t know how this is going to go. This is brand new territory for you and honestly your shitting bricks right now with how nervous you are.

It’s not like you’ve never been with anyone, but Bucky is the first guy that you’ll genuinely care what happens when it’s over. Most of the guys you’ve been with before have been the type to only want something physical from you, not that you were complaining, you had needs and they were willing to fuffil them. They just didn’t want to date you, and never once had any of them used the L-word.

You’re still reeling from Bucky’s confession. You have no idea how long he’s felt this way but the more you think about it the more it makes sense. For as long as you’ve known the man he’s been difficult to read, he build walls as easily as you do and he uses them to block out 99.99% of people in his life.

Now that you’re really thinking about it you’re astonished at how much he told you tonight. You guess having a gun pulled on the person you care about really makes you want to tell them everything you’d been holding back.

You’d be lying if you thought that there wasn’t something you also wanted to tell Bucky when you heard the safety click off. You don’t know if love is the right word, not yet but you do know that he means just about the world to you. The only person in your life who really seems to see you and understand what you’re thinking. You’ve always liked working with Barnes, it was easy, but now you think there might be something else to it.

Bucky pulls into a parking spot right at the front of the building and within seconds he’s by your door opening it and offering you a hand to step out.

“Eager?”

“Very.”

He pulls you out of the car but doesn’t step back, he crowds you in every sense of the word. You see and smell and think nothing but him. This close you notice the little things that you hadn’t before, like the little piece of hair that keeps falling onto his forehead, escaping the gel holding the rest of his locks back. Or the way small scars he has, one above his eyebrow, a line to the right of his lip, a little triangle under his eyes. You could spend hours studying him, he doesn’t give you that long tough,

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, moving closer to your mouth. You don’t answer, just push yourself into him. You practically melt at the little groan that falls past his lips.

His hands fall to your hips almost instintually, the grab ahold of you firmly not willing to let you move even an inch from his hold.

His mouth moves passionalty against yours, he takes his time really trying to get to feel you, to taste you. The pulls away only enough to get air into his lungs, resting his forehead agaisnt yours. God he could kiss you for a lifetime and even a bit longer than that.

“That was…” you start.

“Yeah.” The corners of his lips turn up into a genuine smile. You love his smile even if you don’t get to see it that often.

“James?”

“Yeah Kitty?” He giggles… this grown ass man giggles into you.

“Take me upstairs, these people don’t need a show.” You nod your head at the gathering of people outside, trying and failing to make it look like they weren’t just staring.

“Gladly.”

#james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #plus size reader #plus size!reader #fanfic #x reader #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #requests wanted #requests open #blackcat!reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine

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lxmelle · 2 days

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Just some thoughts about chapter 236 after reading 261. I’ve talked about it elsewhere but I’m going to post it here too.

The whole North South thing has been a huge thing to unpick. As had been the human and jujutsu pervert thing.

But, after 261, it seems to be about reconciliation - between Gojo’s Human side and his Monster side. Perhaps the ongoing theme for Gojo since his enlightenment - is he Gojo Satoru who is Strong or does being Strong define him as Gojo Satoru?

From that premise, that’s why he talked about himself and emotion with Geto - elaborating on “satisfaction” etc. Nobody else was there when they did. It could be a representation of who is within the line Gojo drew. Others are flowers who couldn’t understand him / he didn’t wish to understand him. (I believe Gojo too didn’t want to be saved but lived since birth as if he were to be the saviour due to six eyes + limitless ). Even if at some point he felt like a creature, he has always only been Geto who he wanted to stand beside him as his best friend. He caught up to him, right? They face in the same direction.

The benches is something to take note of too imho: the symbolism of Nanami & Haibara being on the other side of the benches perhaps is meant to represent the Monster Gojo (ie Strongest Gojo Satoru).

So Nanami and Haibara highlight his perverse, jujutsu mad side. They reflect how he could be viewed, or even what he could’ve become. It’s not nice to hear at all. He worked hard not to be that, hence, I think, his facial expression there. But, Gojo accepts it as a part of who he is too. Geto roasts him and echoes that based on what he admitted - practically having fun fighting the death?? Oh dear 😅 But, it shows how Gojo in death reconciled between his two halves. With the aid of his friends.

The North South thing after 261 seems to be thematically similar - going back to being more Human. Gojo’s monstrous side had fun and he has relinquished the Title of being the strongest. So his choice was to go South because that’s where happiness is for him. He understood that love changed him and that it had allowed him to not be lonely as the strongest in the end, having people around him, having purpose, etc. which he wanted to convey to Sukuna. He could have been a monster / calamity Sukuna but thankfully he knew love and could connect with those “beneath his feet” (this was in direct contrast to Hajime’s battle / convo with Sukuna).

It makes me sad to think that it is possible that this interpretation doesn’t allow for a Shinto-like afterlife and they all have to get onto the plane to reincarnate.

Or. It was really a death fantasy after all... aligned with Bardo Thodol...

…and all we can take comfort in is that Gojo was at peace?

Ah, I’m going to make myself depressed thinking about it 😭 we probably won’t get answers from Gege anytime soon so I’ll stubbornly choose to believe there is a Shinto-like afterlife and if they want to reincarnate they can go meet Emma-O to discuss things - like... you know, reincarnating together 😉

Just my two cents... any thoughts or theories?

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tremendouscreationperson · 14 hours

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Pre-war Cooper Howard x Reader

I made a post not too long ago asking someone to write this and was like fine I'll do it then 🤣 hope it isn't god awful

You guys are conducting an affair and one day on set Cooper notices some bruises on you.

Warnings - your husband isn't a nice man, nothing crazy but there's the aforementioned bruises

Cooper tried to keep his mind wandering back to you. He really did. But after yesterday's haphazard filming with new scripts he was worried. Were you ill? Were you being written out of the show? No. You were a fan favourite of course not.

He'd spent the whole of yesterday ‘fighting’ the cobra tail bandits. The episode was meant to feature you and the script was charming. Your character - ‘Elizabeth’ - and his - ‘Clint’ - would've finally admitted their feelings for eachother. The no-nonsense doctor forcing herself onto his horse and insisting she could help.

It wouldn't have won any awards but he thought it was a good plotline.

Instead he was told that you were ‘beat up’ by the bandits and he would be wreaking havoc. Which again wasn't awful but he found that he liked your company.

You'd been hired completely because you were a woman. It shut down the angry mail and your natural charisma and ad-lib one liners caused hoards of fan letters. You were immediately accepted as the ‘woman doctor who takes no bullshit and proves herself’. Elizabeth was a triumph.

“What’re we shooting now?” Cooper asked the director.

Oswald answered, wafting the cloud of smoke that forever surrounded him. “We’re gonna run through you finding (Y/N). You speak to Donnie and then he points her out and you run over there.” Oswald pointed with his cigar hand over to Donnie who was being placed on the ‘saloon’ steps. Donnie's face had been made up with bruises and dried blood. Oswald then gestured across the sandy set to where your mark was. Cooper could see the back of you, talking with your make-up crew and he let out a sigh of relief.

“So no cameras on this one then?”

“No, run through the full scen-” Os cut himself off with a chesty cough. “You know what to do.”

Cooper hoisted himself upon Sugarfoot as he watched everyone slowly get into position and as your face came into view he gasped. He had known you'd be in the same makeup that Donnie had but he hadn't realised the anger it would cause him. He hated to see your delicate features marred and sore. Hated the messy hair and torn shirt.

Cooper took a steadying breath and mentally told himself to use these emotions. He was a professional and yeah, sure, he and you may have been conducting an affair. However neither of your marriages were happy. He had to get his affairs in order before divorcing Barb and you had never loved your husband. Your father had married you off to further your career and it did work but at what cost?

“Alright are we all ready?” Gwen's voice cut through the chatter. “Three… Two.. One.”

‘Clint’ jumped off of Sugarfoot and ran to ‘George’.

“Hell, man, what happened to ya?” Cooper's hands shook Donnies shoulder. “George?!”

The man underneath let out a rattly cough. “Sheriff?”

“George.” Cooper pulled the man so he was upright. “It's gonna be okay.”

“Wai-” He coughed again. “They've doomed us. They go- they got Miss Liza.”

Cooper let his eyes widen and his face drop. “Wha’d’ya mean?”

“Ove- over there.” Donnie lifted his arm vaguely in your direction before it fell back on his thigh.

Cooper let his eyes follow Donnie's hand and he let a shuddering breath out at the crumpled body. “Liza!” Cooper abandoned Donnie to sprint over to you. It wasn't a long set so he was there quickly (the team would make it look longer) skidding to a halt at your side. Sand flew as he landed by your left.

Cooper’s hands hovered over your body, ‘Clint' didn't know where to touch. He settled one hand on your chest to try to feel for her heartbeat and the other on your shoulder. Cooper couldn't feel your heart so he lent his head over your, his ear by your mouth and smiled. His head was already by yours and it took almost nothing to rest his forehead upon your own.

“Liza?” The hand on your chest found your cheek. You let out a low moan, indicating that you were alive.

Cooper was swift with his movements, scooping you up as he rose to full height. “Don't you worry Liza, you're gon’ be fine.”

And that was the scene.

Gwen let out a round of applause and Oswald nodded. “Yes, just like that, Coop.”

“Let's reset and film George and Clint.” Gwen called out.

You were still in his arms as he looked down at you with a grin. “You know, that makeup sure is good.”

“Oh, thank you.” Your cheeks heated. “I'll let Sarah know.”

“Yeah it's much better than Donnie's.” He craned his neck to get a closer look.

A laugh escaped you as you shoved him. “You can put me down now.”

Cooper raised a brow. “Now, when have you ever had a problem with me carrying you?”

You just laughed at him again. Despite his question he did place you delicately on the sand.

“Where were you yesterday?” He straightened your ripped shirt.

You looked up at him through heavy lashes. “Did you miss me?”

“Course I did, sweetheart.” Your lips pulled into a coy smirk and he was called to shoot with ‘George’.

The scene with Donnie didn't last long but there was the shot on George, the shot on Clint, the wide shot and all the reshoots. So it did take longer than expected. Cooper felt antsy, he wanted to shoot with you. God, this was bad. He knew he liked you but he should be professional enough to get through this.

“Right, that's about all of Cooper running I can't handle.” Oswald stopped Gwen trying to get another take of ‘Clint’ sprinting to ‘Liza’. Cooper was thankful as he tried to calm his breathing.

Skidding to your side and repeating his actions from before he and you took direction tirelessly. Most of yours was to ‘look deader.’

“Now, Coop you'd be angrier. The Cobra Tails have beat and possibly defiled your woman.” Os had tried to coach Cooper into playing it more angry but Cooper disagreed.

“I get what you're saying but the anger comes later. Clint is relieved that Elizabeth is alive. Clint doesn't care for anything else at the moment.” Cooper argued. “He just wants her safe, he couldn't live with himself if she wasn't.”

The statement was pleasant enough in itself but paired with his gentle hand stroking your swollen cheek… you'd fallen head over heels for this man and your husband wouldn't stay in the dark too much longer. In fact you're fairly certain that Tuesday night was because of your handsome co-star. You didn't care. Cooper was worth a shove here and a slap there. Did that make you mad? Probably.

Cooper had you in his arms and was filmed running towards ‘Liza’s surgery. Her sister was hiding upstairs and came down at the sheriff’s yells.

‘Prim’ promised to keep ‘Liza’ stable.

“Swear it.” ‘Clint’s voice boomed.

‘Prim’ was washing away the blood with a damp cloth. “I swear!”

“Primrose,” He grabbed her arm. “I ain't joking.”

Her eyes bore into his, both equally angry. “Me neither.”

And that was it with this part. You were expected to change for the reunion as Cooper and Darlene did a few more takes. They had another scene when he returns and asks about ‘Liza’. It's a cute scene showing a familial bond between the two characters. ‘Prim’ confides that she was so scared her sister would've died and ‘Clint’ agrees. There's more dialogue and knowing Cooper adlibs but the overall scene really highlights their individual relationships to ‘Liza’ and how, despite them always being at odds, similar the two are.

Cooper was taking a sip of water when you were brought back in. You were wearing a loose white gown, with your hair unpinned. The bruising on your face was less than before.

They laid you on the bed and fanned your hair out. This was a big thing apparently, so Gwen stated. “Her hair is always up in the braid. It's a sign of her professionalism. The only time it's sorta down it's when Clint dances with her at Rhonda’s wedding. But it was still half braided, it shows that she is mentally - and obviously physically - letting her hair down around him.”

Usually Cooper would let the woman talk his ear off yet something nagged at him. “So isn't it wrong that the first time Clint sees her with her hair down is because she almost died?”

“No, it shows that this is the final straw. She won't pull back next episode. She's decided that life is too short and she likes you. Well him.”

Cooper just hummed and readied himself again.

Gwen counted them all in and Cooper sheepishly opened the door to ‘Liza's bedroom. You were breathtaking. It was actually becoming somewhat of a hazard to him, your beauty causing his brain to flatline, forgetting lines and marks and everything that wasn't you.

“Elizabeth?” He whispered gently, completely missing where he was meant to hover and delicately sitting at your side. “Liza?”

Your brows furrowed and you slowly blinked your eyes open. He'd had the privilege of seeing that. You and him lying in an expensive bed, half dozing knowing you both need to leave but loathe to. It didn't matter for Cooper really, he was a man, he was allowed to stay out late but he knew you'd be ridiculed by the press so he forced himself to sit up and forced you to copy his movements.

“Clint?”

Cooper was back in the shot, his eyes roaming your bruised face. Maybe this affair affected you in more ways than he thought. Your bruises weren't fake, he could tell. There was only so much the makeup department could do. No, these were real. Wh-Was this why you were off yesterday? Did the crew know? Everyone was particularly secretive with why you weren't in.

“Clint?” You spoke again. “You okay?”

Cooper Howard was never really one to stick to the script. He pulled you in for a bone crushing hug. “Liza.”

You patted his back to the best of your ability and Cooper pulled away just enough to look you in the eye. “I thought I lost you.”

“‘n here I thought you'd be jumping for joy.” You spoke the dialogue that was meant to have been said as he hovered by the door.

“Never. I-” He cut himself off going completely off script, unsure if it was Clint or Cooper speaking. “You're not allowed to get hurt. Not on my account. I can't have you- you can’t-”

“Shhh.” You smoothed his hair. “I'm fine.”

He shook his head and pulled you in for a kiss. The characters were meant to share a kiss but it was a peck on your forehead not the steamy, tongue tangling snog he planted on you. You both broke apart for air and there was something behind Cooper's eyes.

“‘cause I love you.”

“And cut!” Oswald let out a whoop, “now that is television!”

Gwen rounded everyone up to reset and your makeup team was there to touch your face as the hair people replaced your locks. Cooper was given the same treatment after they practically dragged his ass back out the door.

The scene ran again and again and again but the last four words didn't feel any different. Your heart fluttered every time the words were uttered, each time more convincing than the last.

It was late when Oswald declared ‘hometime’ and you were allowed to leave.

Cooper snagged your wrist and loudly asked to run lines, the age old excuse to be alone in his trailer. You agreed and after a quick change found yourself on the steps of the trailer. You'd been in here more than you'd been in your own. It was almost a waste of money to have one but you had to keep up appearances.

Cooper opened the door before you could knock and let you in, he'd barely shut the door before the words tumbled out of his mouth. “Divorce him.”

“Wh-” Where did this come from? Both of you knew the deal of your affair was that his wifes company funded his movies and your husband funded yours. The fact that the two of you were on this show was a mere coincidence, one that the director did not mind in the slightest. His little project had the largest budget to play with in television history and you're sure most went in his pocket.

“I know this isn't makeup.” Cooper's hand barely touched your cheek. “You're hurt and I know it was him.”

“I can't leave him.” Your hand wrapped around his wrist.

“You could.” His eyes grew hopeful. “You know I want to leave Barb, if we were both divorced-”

“That's a nice idea.” Cutting him off, you stepped back, arms hugging your middle. “But we can't Coop. You know we can't.”

“I'll buy a farm, we could leave this industry.” Cooper could see the conflict waging beneath you. He knew you wanted nothing more than to be with him but it was hard for a woman to restart her life. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” You nodded in agreement. “But this isn't- we aren't-”

Cooper didn't let you finish, he pulled you in for a hug, fingers creating patterns on your back in an attempt to soothe your worried mind. “Just let me say it. I. Love. You.”

#cooper howard x reader #pre war cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout #fallout prime #walton goggins

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finniestoncrane · 2 days

Note

Can I ask for reader giving Deegan from Fallout 4 a little relaxing blow job for being such a brave and hard working guy? (So nervous but I saw he was in your list and I love him!)

Edward Deegan x GN!Reader, word count: 1.2k don't be nervous!! i'm so glad someone asked for him finally, and this is perfect ;-; i'm writing this post-lorenzo shit, because when he was on the floor all weak URGH my heart ;-; ☢️ request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: blowjobs, sweet deegan!! don't tell me he isn't soft and kind, he put up with jack cabot long enough, smutty fluff, tiny mention of an injury on deegan

It was late, well past midnight, and you moved quietly through the Cabot house as you made your way to Deegan's room, not wanting to wake anyone up. You didn't want to disturb Edward's rest either, but you hadn't been able to sleep for thinking about him, worrying over him after the day you'd been through.

"Edward... Ed? Can I come in?"

Your whispered words were accompanied by a soft tapping of your knuckles against the door. Any louder and you'd wake the whole house. And besides, if he couldn't hear you, then it meant he had managed to fall asleep.

"Sure, door's unlocked."

His voice cut through the silence, gruff, gravelly, louder than yours. You cringed at the sound, worried it might disturb the others who would no doubt interrupt what you hoped would be a private conversation with Deegan. But as you carfeully, so slowly, turned the handle of the door, you could hear nothing else but your own breathing.

You closed the door just as quietly behind you, keeping your voice hushed, but adjusting the volume to a slightly louder one now that you were in the privacy of the four walls.

"Are you ok? You look worried."

Edward was sitting up on the edge of his bed wearing only a pair of underwear. His stomach was wrapped in bandages, but other than that, his body was bare and exposed to your lingering gaze, though it didn't seem to bother him. Realising that you were staring, you turned your head to the side, letting your hand find his hat on top of his dresser, fingers skimming over the shallow brim as you spoke.

"I'm ok, I just couldn't sleep. I was worried about you."

"Really? You couldn't sleep because of me? That's ridiculous. I'm fine."

He patted the mattress beside him, a gentle gesture, welcoming and kind. Once you were resting beside him, he placed an arm around you, pulling you into a comforting side embrace. Physical affection was one of his surprises, a trait you'd never have expected from him, but one that was prominent once you were amongst his "inner circle".

"I know, I know. You're always fine. But how many times can you get knocked around like that and still be ok afterwards?"

"It's been two hundred years so far. I can't imagine I'll be downed any time soon."

You slumped into his body, letting him take your whole weight. The more you relaxed, the more your body slipped until you were laying at an angle uncomfortable enough for you to shift your body. Kicking your legs up onto the bed, you settled your head into his lap, sighing contentedly as he tucked the stray strands of hair behind your ear.

Edward let his fingers travel from your hair to your neck, following down to your shoulder and tracing your upper arm, soft strokes back and forth as he tickled your skin, soothing, comforting. It was more than that though. His strong body supporting you, his surprisingly gentle touch, the way he hummed in satisfaction when you shifted into him. For all he did for you, risking his life, finding you work, convincing Jack to let you stay in the house, and now, comforting you when you'd come to comfort him, you knew he was due more than just an embrace. And you knew you wanted to give it to him.

As you nuzzled your head against his crotch, you brought your hands up to his thighs, skimming your palm against them, travelling upwards until you were at the top of his underwear. Edward sighed against you, a soft, growling moan as he felt your caress against his strong, but tired body.

Tugging the underwear down, you exposed his cock, stiffening already at your touch, pulsing as you let it fall out over the band, bobbing in front of your face.

His hand was against your cheek, warm, delicate, but he was pushing at you, trying to guide you away from him, only easing up when you were focused on him, your eyes trained on his.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Why wouldn't I be? You deserve this, Edward."

He closed his eyes, blinking slowly.

"You don't have to do that... this. You don't have to pity me. I do my job, and I watch out for my friends."

"It's not out of pity, Edward. I want to do this. I've wanted to do this."

He put up no fight after those words, instead leaning back on his elbows to give you more room in his lap as you turned your had back towards his cock. WIth your hand gripping the base of his shaft, you let your lips slide down over the head, tongue flitting back and forth, coating it with your saliva to make it easier to bob your head up and down his length.

Your lips bumped over the smoothed ridges of his cock, a texture that was satisfying and new, exciting, different. You could feel the skin warming against your mouth and your tongue, the way his thick, hard dick throbbed at the attention you were giving it.

Freshly washed, always taking advantage of the hot, running water in the Cabot house, Edward didn't taste like much, but you could still smell his musk. And as he relaxed into the pleasure, the tang of his precum settled on your tongue sending you into a frenzy. With your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked, hoping to encourage more of the sweet, salty essence.

Edward choked on his words a little, surprised at how hungry you seemed to be for him. Gently, so as not to incur any more damage to his bruised body, he eased himself down lower, still raised enough though to watch you as you worked your way over his cock.

With a crude 'schlick' you let his cock pop out of your mouth, smiling up at him as you turned your head to the side and ran your tongue up and down his dick, running it through your lips at the angle before you sank your mouth back down over it.

You looked up at him, catching his eyes and smiling even with your mouth full of him, an act that made him blush and lose a little bit of the control he had over his reactions. With a hitched breath, he muttered something, unintelligible murmurs underscored by half-swears and sounds of pleasure.

"Ah... fff... ngh!"

Edward's breathing was heavy, panting, interspersed with moans and groans that only got louder the more you sucked on his cock, tongue swirling over the head as you reach the top and gliding down the shaft as you let the tip hit the back of your throat.

Your fingers travelled up his chest, gripping his prominent chin and playfully shaking it before you placed your palm over his mouth. It was late, and Wilhelmina was a notoriously light sleeper. The last thing you wanted was to be interrupted before you'd had the chance to properly thank Deegan for his bravery and his kindness.

And with the way he had begun to buck his hips up, his hands gripping the sheets as he strained his neck and gritted his teeth, you wouldn't have to wait long to see it through.

#this was supposed to be like 600 words and now it's twice that but he's just so HNG #fallout 4 #fallout four #x reader #finnie writes #fallout fanfiction #fallout x reader #deegan #edward deegan #deegan fallout 4 #deegan x reader #edward deegan x reader #fo4

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momowoah · 3 days

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Okay but I really think that the worst part is that this is season seven. Unless they're planning to turn 9-1-1 into the new Grey's Anatomy the chances of us being already in the final half of the show are huge. I'm not saying that there shouldn't be any drama, but the characters should've started to go forward, and yet nearly all of them feel stuck in the same place they have been for several seasons. Or should I say 2-3 seasons?

tldr: all/most S7 storylines were either useless in the long run or recycles. The only characters who had storylines on the good side of the scale (as in, they helped the characters develop and move to a new place in their lives) were Maddie and Chimney (and maybe Buck but he's on thin ice). All the characters are back to the same place they were in s4/s5. It's probably TM's fault. This shouldn't be happening in a 7th season.

(really long post under the cut but worth it imo)

Bobby and Athena had a whole seven episodes for their storylines and yet it didn't significantly change anything about them or their relationship. The doubts of how they are when they're at peace that were brought up in ep1 ended up not being addressed at all. We started the season with what was supposed to be this huge thing in their relationship and it was just never brought up again! Instead they put bathena through distress again just for the sake of being dramatic. And while I'm extremely glad we got Amir and think there were several high points in his storyline, what difference did it make in the long run? Yes, it brought up interesting things to Bobby's storyline, such as more insight into his childhood and the chance for him to explore another side of the fire he caused, but is it going to change anything? No! Bobby will be reinstated in S8 bc that's just how these things go, and I doubt they'll put any effort to continue the survivors storyline. I'd bet it'll just be ignored in the next seasons.

Hen and Karen have been trying for YEARS AND YEARS to adopt a child and they just can't let them! As a wlw, do you know how awful that is to watch? Seeing them fail time and time again and have their family broken up once again just because??? It was one thing with Nia, she got a happy ending, but that wasn't the case with Mara. The best thing for everyone involved would be for her to stay with Hen and Karen, but they blew it up. I know she's with Madney, but it's not the fucking same. Why do they have to go through this again? Why can't they finally get the family they've spent years fighting for? Why can't the drama be about anything else, why does it have to be about failed adoptions? I've seen this enough times before. Why not let them be able to adopt???? Why? I'm genuinely upset abt this btw, probably more than about anything else that went down.

Buck got to finally come out and it was great but instead of taking it as an opportunity to let him grow into himself they just threw him right back into the hamster wheel of dating people who are either not fully into him or who he's not fully into. (if you like bt probably skip the rest of this paragraph but I'd also be upset about how they're handling them if I liked the ship bc I liked the previous bt and they did something similar to them lol) Tommy's behavior could be explained away at first, but I feel like time and time again the show goes the extra mile to make him uninterested in Buck or just straight up an asshole to him? Instead of taking the small opportunities of portraying them as a healthy happy couple they just consistently screw up their relationship? They're not the couple I support but even then I wanted them to be good together bc I want Buck to be happy, and yet all we get is this?

I don't even have words about Eddie, especially considering what rg has said about him destroying his life and possibly reverting back to military no emotions mode next season. WHY CAN'T HE BE HAPPY? We already saw him break down, WE'VE ALREADY HAD A STORYLINE ABOUT HIM REBUILDING HIS LIFE, but happiness is boring so now he has to ruin his relationship with his son too right? It just pisses me off how they go about his character sometimes. I liked that they were bringing back the Shannon storyline because he was supposed to be able to finally move on, but this wasn't about that. No, it was about retraumatizing Eddie and Chris and splitting them up at a time when they should be leaning on each other and healing, because Chris has also been suffering with the Shannon stuff. We saw it in fucking ep 1. Don't even get me started on the Marisol stuff because idek why she was there at all. Literally don't get it. We had an off-screen breakup anyways. She wasn't relevant at all to anything that happened. Why was she even there? I'm genuinely asking. The only Eddie arc that has some positive potential for next season is him dealing with his relationship with religion (especially if they tie it to the military and the way he lives his life for others' expectations), but tbh I don't trust them not to fuck it up.

Finally, I don't have complaints about madney, except for why tf was Maddie so absent this season? The wedding episode was all about Chimney (who was also maybe kinda missing tbh), and although I love him and his backstory and the opportunity to see Kevin again, I really wanted it to be about their relationship, since it was their wedding, yk. Dispatch was also severely under utilized. We did get the 7x07 Maddie plotline and it might've been bc it was a shortened season but yeah, I'm still not that satisfied.

So, we have all the characters stuck in places they've been before. More specifically, in the place they were in season 4/5. Bathena relationship problems followed by a life threatening situation? Check. Henren struggling with adoption? Check. Buck getting into what was supposed to be a good relationship only for it to end up going really bad? Check. Eddie struggling with relationships and his mental health going to hell? Check. Madney in a good place with a new child and about to have an awful fucking time? Hopefully just check for the first part. And you know which question this makes me ask? It's whether Tim Minear is just reverting everyone to their s4 state out of spite for the seasons he was away. And even if it is a genuine attempt at getting the show back on the track he wanted out of good intentions, it still sucks, because it doesn't change the fact that it is just a repeat of old storylines. I actually complained at this before the show even aired, but (iirc) I ended up deleting my post because I thought that I was just overreacting. Guess what? I fucking wasn't, bc that's EXACTLY what they did.

Now, going back to the start of this post, the reason why all these storylines suck so much is not that they are bad. It's not even that they aren't original. No, it's the fact that we're doing storylines that belong in the fourth or fifth season of a show in its seventh season. Even the Gerrard plotline, which is new to 9-1-1, feels like it came too late, because the split up crew/villain captain storyline tends to happen much sooner in procedurals, and for a reason. Besides the fact that this was never really a big bad type of show and I don't get why they are making it one all of a sudden, and ignoring the fact that Gerrard being brought back as captain, especially to the 118 of all places, makes no fucking sense, that kind of plotline is one that it's obviously always temporary. No one believes he'll still be the captain by the end of 8A, much less by the end of the season. He'll hardly survive the first 3-5 episodes. That's ultimately a filler storyline. It helps the show go on for longer, it might even help in the development of a couple characters, but at the end of the day it doesn't change anything, which appears to be a recurring theme when it comes to 9-1-1 storylines.

The reason I have a problem with this is that we don't need a filler storyline, because no one knows whether the show has the luxury of taking its sweet time. Yeah, it has a huge audience and it is doing good numbers, but it is still a fucking money pit that was already cancelled once and it's unsustainable on the long run. It might not end that soon, but is it honestly going to reach season 14? Does anyone truly think that we've only seen half of it (or less) so far? Because I don't. Not many shows make it that far, and there's a reason for that. We have three huge names who are extremely important to the show. What happens if they get tired? What happens if someone gets a better offer? What happens if we're still revisiting old storylines when that happens? Do we get an incomplete story or a rushed one?

The show should be moving forward, even if there are no plans for it to end soon. We have the drama of the huge disasters 9-1-1 loves. We have the drama of the cases. We have a myriad of new possible dramatic storylines for the characters that show development without being too final. Athena could have so many different job related storylines (from moving up in her career to abandoning it), and her and Bobby's storyline from the beginning of the season about being boring together can be played in a good and dramatic line. Henren and Madney have a whole world of parenting issues that they could go through. Buck and Eddie both still need either an endgame love interest (whether it's each other or not) or to get to the point where they are fine not having one, and we have all of the relationship trouble that comes with that. This show can give us new things, storylines that are good for the characters, without losing the dramatic factor (which, if I'm being honest, would not be a deal breaker for me). Yet, it refuses to, and probably not for a good reason, because it comes down to either Tim wanting to rewrite history or just trying to drag this show for as long as possible (which apparently he only knows how to do by refusing to make the characters happy). And you know what? I'm fucking mad about it, and I think you should be too.

Btw, this is not to say the whole season sucked. We got Madney and Henren together multiple times which was great. We finally got Bi Buck. There were several amazing acting moments for both the main and recurring actors. As a standalone season, it was good. It just doesn't work when you look at the bigger picture.

#btw the “they” is bc I don't want to attribute blame solely to one person #(despite thinking it's very likely that it is actually mostly/all his fault but shhhhhh)#sorry for how long/the way it came out. i was kinda venting abt my frustrations at points but yeah #911 #911 abc #eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #athena grant #bobby nash #maddie buckley #maddie han #hen wilson #henrietta wilson #chimney han #howard han #henrietta hen wilson #howard chimney han

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writingquestionsanswered · 2 days

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Hi, are there any recommendations you have for me for my writing process? My process is extremely long because I keep getting stuck. Got an idea for a conflict, okay. Stuck on fleshing that out. Eventually done. Stuck on my characters, who they are, and their roles. Finally get that done. But now I need to figure out backstory. Stuck. Figure out the plotline/solution to the conflict. Stuck. It's MONTHS between these steps of writing a story. I'm on the verge of giving up...

Slow and Clunky Writing Process

Please don't give up. The world needs the stories only you can tell. ♥

There is so much information out there about plot, story structure, conflict, goals, outlining, backstory, plot points, pacing, theme, character arc... blah, blah, blah... it can get incredibly overwhelming, especially if you can't seem to get to point of actually writing the story.

Having said that, I think it's so, soooo important to know that you don't actually have to worry so much about that stuff at the beginning.

The truth of the matter is, your first stories are probably not going to be the stories you publish. That doesn't mean you can't publish them, it's just that most of us will write two or three, maybe four or five stories before we write one that's good enough to share. As a result, what typically happens is you get a little bit better at all of those things (conflict, pacing, character arc, etc.) with every story you write. Keep learning about those things as you go, and try your best to incorporate them into each story, but you shouldn't be looking for a level of perfection that they hold you back.

Think of it like this: if you decided you wanted to build your own home, you wouldn't read a bunch of blog posts and books about home construction, maybe take a workshop or two, and then start building, expecting to build a house you could actually live in. Instead, you'd probably start by building some smaller structures... maybe a dog house, a patio with pergola, maybe help a friend split a big room in their house into two rooms. You'd take on smaller projects to put your budding skills to use and practice them. Then, when you got really good at everything, you might be ready to build your house.

Writing is the same way. You can't take all of that information and pour it into a perfect, flawless story in one go round. It's too hard, too overwhelming, and you never get a chance to actually hone your budding skills.

So, start by just writing the stories you want to write... just for fun... just to practice your skills. Don't worry if your conflict isn't perfectly fleshed out. Don't worry if your pacing is wonky or your character arc is unsatisfactory. Focus first on just writing the story. Then, you can hone your revision skills by trying to improve those things once the first draft is complete. Put the story through two or three revisions, and you're really sharpening those skills. When you go to write and revise the next story, it's going to be a little bit easier.

You'll know when you get to a point where you've written something that's publishable. You'll still need to do two or three revisions to get it where it needs to be, but the whole process will be much easier.

And one last thing: don't worry about backstory unless it's critical for helping the reader understand the world of the story, the conflict, or who the character is/why they do what they do. ♥

Happy writing! I promise it gets easier!!!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

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she-wolf09231982 · 2 days

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Joe Toye

“The Bunny and The Fox”

Summary: You thought Joe Toye was too scary to even consider a friend, but he proves to be not only a great friend, but also a lover.

A/N: One shot, Mature audience, JoeToyeX!FemMedic, WW2, Female Pronouns, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Womanizing Comments, Military and Medical Terminology, Inappropriate Nicknames, HBO Band of Brothers References, Mentions/Descriptions of Injuries, Weaponry, Smoking. Angst/Conflict, Smut, *John Wayne/McClintock Movie Quote*, FOREVER FLUFF

@awaterfalls 😁🪖♠️🦅❤️

These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real Marines the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*

~~~~~~~

He always appeared so….serious. His face in a constant state of pissed off and disdain. If looks could kill, Joe Toye (and Johnny Martin) wouldn’t have needed weapons in the war.

You avoided him all through Toccoa. He just seemed like the type to leave the hell alone. But every now and then, you caught a glimpse of him smiling or laughing with the guys.

“Not bad.” You’d think to yourself as you admired his smile.

Since you trained with Easy as a medic, you rarely had an excuse to speak to him unless he was injured. Even then you kept your conversation short and sweet with hardly any eye contact. But with his low raspy voice came a sense of calm while you took care of him. You supposed he seemed friendly enough.

~~~~~~

June 1944 Post D-Day

Orders were given to take Carentan where German soldiers were being sheltered. Carentan was the main crossroad between Cotentin and Calvados where the ally force's tanks needed passage to attack the main objective, Cherbourg.

"Listen up!" LT Welsh shouted. "It'll be dark soon. I want light and noise discipline from here on. No talking, no smoking. And no playing grab-fanny with the man in front of you, Luz. We're taking Carentan. It's the only place where armor from Omaha and Utah Beach can link up and head inland. Until we take Carentan, they're stuck on the sand. General Taylor's sending the whole division."

Some of the men began to grumble under their breath. Everyone started to stir to gather their gear to begin the journey to Carentan.

Walking in a file formation on each side of the road to Carentan. You found yourself walking in front of Toye as Perconte proceeded you.

“Hey Toye, why you always in the middle when we convoy anywhere? Ain’t you ever in the front?” Guarnere teased.

“I go wherever the medic goes in case I get hit, Bill.” Joe responded.

You blushed and dared to sneak a glance behind you. As you did, Toye met your gaze shooting you a quick wink. You quickly look back to the front embarrassed he caught you acknowledging him.

“Awe now look what ya did. You scared her.” Guarnere teased.

You hear some of the guys laugh.

“Maintain your noise discipline.” Winters reminded.

~~~~~~~

"MEDIC!!"

You and Doc on separate ends of the streets trying to keep low to tend to the wounded.

You rush to two soldiers landing on your knees next to them, one on the ground with a trail of blood coming from his helmet, the other crouching over him.

"He's still breathing, help me carry him!" You call out. You each grab an arm of the injured soldier and drag him behind a building.

While you're working on the nameless soldier's head wound, a drug store gets blasted by German artillery not far from where you were, the force from the explosion sending you sideways into the brick wall next to you.

You shake your head to stop the ringing in your ears. Everything you could hear was distant as your vision became fuzzy and dark. You start to smack your ear trying to make it pop so you can get back to your senses.

“Y/L/N! We gotta move! Get up!” Toye’s muffled voice yelled out.

He grabbed you by the arm pulling you up to your feet. You still couldn’t barely see so you held onto his arms for dear life.

“I-I can’t see nothin’ Joe!” You called out to him.

“Ok, come on…UP we go!” You hear him grunt as he threw you over his shoulder.

You feel him trotting to safety while blast after blast erupted all around you. You feel him lower you as gently as he could to the ground against a wall.

“Hey, look at me.” Toye said as he guided your face towards his, “Can you see me now?”

You shake your head, “No, it’s all dark and blurry.” You reply as tears started to stream down your cheeks.

Were you going blind?? Is this it? You’re not going to be able to see your family’s faces? Never see your own reflection? You feel yourself slipping into shock.

“Hey! Stay with me now, ok doll? Don’t cry. Doc’s on his way.” You hear Toye’s voice break through your thoughts.

Doc ducked behind the wall with you and Toye.

“What’s the matta’ with her?” You hear Gene ask.

“She can’t see. Says everything is blurry.”

“Gene, I think I’m going blind. Am I going blind??” You asked panicked trying to reach out for him.

“What happened before she couldn’t see?”

“A shell dropped right by her and she went flying into a brick wall.”

Gene nodded, “That’ll do it. You got a concussion, Y/L/N, you ain’t goin’ blind.”

You released a sigh of relief.

“Joe, can you get her back to HQ? She ain’t no good out here if she can’t see nothin’.”

“I got her, Doc.”

~~~~~~~

Toye got you back to an aid station not long after Easy Company claimed victory over Carentan. You remained there until the following day after your vision returned. As you approached a group of the guys from Easy, you were welcomed with whoops and cheers.

“Hey! Look who it is!” Luz called out.

All the guys turned to find you walking towards them.

“Hey look what the cat dragged in!” Malarkey joked.

The chorus of laughter from the men lifted your spirits.

“Yeah, I look rough, I know. Thanks guys.” You greet.

You looked around for Toye.

“He’s over there.” Luz pointed out as he gestured with is thumb over his shoulder.

“Oh, I just, uh, wanted to thank him for-“ you began.

“-yeah, yeah we know. He’s over there.” Malarkey interjected pointing down the street.

You feel yourself get flustered so you scamper off to where they said Joe was. As you walk through the rubble that Carentan has become, you see Toye standing in a circle with a few of the other guys from Easy. He throws his cigarette butt on the ground, stomping it out with his boot before he turns and sees you.

His face lights up when he saw you walking up.

“Hey there she is!” Guarnere hailed.

Bill met you and extended his hand for you to shake, which you obliged.

“Good to see you, Bill.”

“Glad to see you up and about, doll.” He pulled you in closer, “Someone’s been real worried about you since they left you at the aid station, by the way.” He disclosed.

You pull back and met Bill’s face with confusion. He winked and motioned over to Toye with his chin.

“Go on and say hi to him.” Bill added.

You narrow your eyes at him and smile. You slowly approach Toye as he stood there with his hands in his pockets and smirking as he patiently waited for you.

“Hey, Toye.” You squeak.

“Hey, Y/L/N. Good to see you.” He replied with his signature husky voice.

“Well, if it weren’t for you, I probably wouldn’t be here. Thank you for helping me.” You say as you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

You hear Guarnere whistle. You turn around and shake your head at him.

Toye cleared his throat, “It was nothin’.”

You both stood there awkwardly until Bill came over.

“Hey, the guys were going to go to the bar that survived the wreck. You wanna join us later for a few night caps, Y/L/N?”

“Sure, if I can find a place to get cleaned up.”

“Ok it’s that little place over there. We’ll all be there around 1900, aight?”

You knew Bill was scheming something for you and Toye. You look at him suspiciously.

“Ok, I’ll see you guys there later.”

~~~~~~~

You breeze through the front door of the pub and begin scanning the room for the familiar faces of Easy.

“Hey! Y/F/N! Over here!” Guarnere called out waving his hand.

You push through the crowd to get to the table where most of your guys were sitting. You catch Toye playing darts with LT Compton, Luz, and Heffron.

“What can I getchya?” Bill asked.

“Oh, whatever you’re drinking, Bill.” You reply.

“Comin’ right up.” He announced as he walked to the bar.

You look back to Toye and catch his eyes looking at you too. He smiled and raised his glass to you with a wink. You smile back and give him a little wave.

“Here ya go.” Bill returned handing you a pint glass of beer.

You cheers and take a hearty gulp.

“Thanks, Bill.” You say as you squeeze his arm.

~~~~~~~

The night was filled with laughter, banter, and taunts amongst Easy. And somehow, your glass kept getting magically refilled by each of the guys. You had to refuse Malarkey’s offer to buy your next round because you felt your head starting to spin.

“Ok, we’ll slow down.” Don chuckled, “But when you’re ready, I got the next one!”

“Yessir.” You quipped.

You turn towards the dart boards and see that Toye had moved. You began to search the room for him and suddenly stop at the bar where he was talking to a local woman dressed in a tightly fit dress.

You felt a distinct sense of dread mixed with anger, but you weren’t sure why. The longer you watched Toye leaning closer to whisper in her ear while she giggled, the more your rage boiled over inside.

“What’s the matter, doll? You gotta look on ya like you’re gonna murder someone.” You hear Guarnere chime in.

You avert you eyes to the floor.

“It’s nothing.” You say quickly.

Bill looked where were just looking.

“Well ain’t that a son of a bitch. After all the trouble I went through to set you’s guys up, he goes and finds another bird to chat up.”

You look at Bill, “What do you mean set us up?”

Bill looked at you alarmed.

“Oh, well, I thought you knew. Toye over there has got it real bad for ya. Has ever since basic but he figured he never had a chance. I told him you were a catch and that you had a thing for him too.”

“Oh do I now?” You asked astounded by his response.

“Well, don’tchya?”

“I suppose he’s handsome. Good soldier. But looks like he’s not as sweet on me as you think.” You state as you gesture to Toye by the bar getting disgustingly close to the blonde bombshell.

“Ah, he’s an idiot. He’s just trying to get laid.”

You look at him with daggers behind your eyes. Bill’s eyes widen.

“Uh, what I mean is he don’t care about her, ya know? He’s trying to not think about you because he thinks you’re outta his league.” Bill hastily explained.

“Yeah? Well, I’ll get his attention.” You declare as you storm off towards the bar.

“Ah shit.” Bill mumbled to himself rolling his eyes.

You walk up to a soldier from Fox Company standing a few feet away from where Toye was with his new little friend. You approach the bar and slightly bend over to the surface of the bar and rest your elbows on it. The soldier noticed you right away and a devilish grin appeared across his face.

You look over at him and smile.

“Hey, angel, you’re the prettiest face in here.” He said as he scanned you from head to toe.

You see Toye look over the blonde’s shoulder at you. So you inched closer to the stranger.

“At least someone noticed how hard I worked on my make up tonight.” You say loud enough for Joe to hear.

Toye’s jaw started to tighten. Your plan was working like a charm.

“What are you takin’ about? You’re a dish!” He returned enthusiastically, “Can I get you a drink?”

“A pint is fine.”

Toye excused himself from the company of his little vixen and approached you with obvious vigor. He stopped so close to you, you can feel his breath on your face.

“You think you should have anymore?” Toye asked in a low gravelly tone.

You were almost a puddle at his feet.

“What’s one more?” You dismiss.

“Hey, buddy, this one’s mine. Get lost.” The Fox soldier warned.

Toye glared at him, a clear warning with his fierce gaze to back off. “Shut up.”

He turned back to you. “You hit your head hard yesterday. You got a concussion, remember? Drinking too much isn’t good for you right now.” He cautioned.

The soldier behind Toye huffed outloud. You bring your face closer to his.

“How about you go on back to your little blonde bunny over there and worry about her?” You say softly staring intensely into his eyes.

You snidely smile and gently push him aside to accept the beer the Fox soldier was holding for you. Toye grabbed your wrist before you could get your fingers around the glass.

“Because I’m worried about you.” He sternly replied.

“Hey, pal, I’m not gonna tell ya-“

Before the guy could finish his sentence, Toye swung and punched him across the face sending him to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

“Joe, what the hell is the matter with you?” You bark.

He turned to face you, his teeth clenched and resentment in his eyes.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? You got my attention.” He said raising his arms to the side.

Just then, another Fox Company soldier soared in and tackled Toye. When Guarnere saw Toye get sacked, him and the rest of Easy rushed in, clashing with Fox Company in a battle royalé in the middle of the dance floor.

You grab a bottle of whiskey and force your way into the horde to smash it over the head of one of the opposing soldiers when you suddenly feel your feet swiftly leave the floor, and you find yourself once again thrown over Joe Toye’s shoulder as he rushes out the front door.

You start to push off of his back to look at him.

“What are you doing?? Put me down, NOW! This is completely barbaric! Were you raised by wolves??”

“Shut your mouth.” Toye said sharply.

He wouldn’t cave no matter how hard you struggled. He continued to carry you until he got to the house where you had been staying at with the field nurses. He opened the front door and practically threw you onto the couch in the main corridor.

“You’re an absolute animal, Joe Toye.” You snarled at him.

“Yeah? You haven’t even seen the worst of it yet.” He retorted.

You stood up, only to lose your balance and fell backward on to the couch again.

“Well save it.” You spit back crossing your arms, “You can go now. I’m sure that little dish at the bar is waiting on you.”

Toye furrowed his eyebrows at you, “You’re the only one even thinking about her. I haven’t even given her a second thought since you walked through the door of that place!”

You scoff, “Sure, Joe. Didn’t seem like it when your hands were all over her like a magnet.” You pointed out as you stood up slowly.

“Yeah?” He queried as he closed the gap between the two of you, “You mean like this?”

He roughly grabbed you by the waist and kneaded your hips with his strong calloused hands as he pulled you into him. Your faces so close, you thought he was going to kiss you, but he only hovered over your mouth. You were a deer in the headlights, your words caught in your throat somewhere. You almost forgot to take breath when you started to feel faint, so you took in a deep breath through your nose to recover.

You put your hands on his chest and started to push away.

“What are you doing, Toye?” You manage to say.

He jerked you back into him, slithering his one hand across the small of your back while the other one firmly caressed the swell of your ass. You tried to protest, but your voice betrayed you only allowing a whimper to escape from your throat. This man had you a melting hot mess in his arms and it only made you angrier that he was getting you flustered.

“What? Got nothin’ snarky to say now, sweetheart?” He teased.

The fire inside you began to rise, and you weren’t sure if it was because you were turned on, or pissed off.

“I hate you.” You sneered as you slipped out of his grasp and headed for the staircase.

Before you could lift your foot to take the first step, you feel yourself twirled back around and face to face with Toye in his arms.

*“Half of the people in the world are women…Why does it have to be you that stirs me?”* He growled before grabbing the back of your head to bring your mouth to his.

You wanted to fight back and push away again, but your body fought you, leaning into his body and fisting his uniform jacket to pull him as close as possible to you. You part your lips to allow his tongue to pass and explore yours. You playfully nip at his bottom lip eliciting a deep guttural groan from him. His hands scoured your body as his hips instinctively pushed his hard on against you. You dig your nails into his shoulders as you moan into his mouth.

You pull back, “Let’s take this upstairs.”

Toye only replied with a mischievous grin, then picked you up bridal style to carry you up the stairs. When you direct him to your room, he set you down to secure the door. Right at the moment he turned around, you forced him against the door and hungrily kiss him while unraveling his tie.

He grabbed you by the shoulders swinging you around pinning you against the door with a ‘thud’ then placed his hand around your throat. He tightened his grip enough to make a point he was in charge, but not hard enough to alarm you. You instinctively grab his wrist with both hands as you clenched your thighs together, hoping to get some friction against your core and to prevent the wetness from dripping down your leg.

You hissed through your teeth as a smile stretched across your face. Toye pressed himself harder against you, the bulge in his pants grinding into your pelvis. You slide one hand away from his wrist gradually finding your way to his belt buckle. His fingers around your neck increased their grip.

You ran your tongue along your lower lip. He looks from your eyes to your mouth as a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. He suddenly scooped you up from behind your thighs wrapping your legs around his waist and carried you over to the bed, dropping you on your back onto the mattress.

He removed his tie, then with one hand unbuckled his belt all the while staring at you like a starved wolf about to pounce on his prey. You scoot to the edge of the bed and start to unbutton your uniform top. He situated himself between your spread knees at the edge of the bed.

You look up at him through your lashes and smile as you start to work on removing his pants. Your top partially open with your cleavage peaking through, he fisted the front with both hands and yanked the blouse off your shoulders. You wiggle out of the shirt and drop his pants and briefs as he removed his uniform top.

Now you were both ravenous for eachother just yanking off articles of clothing and throwing them carelessly onto the floor. Finally when he slid your panties off, a devilish grin graced his face when he saw how wet you were for him.

He looked at you roguishly as he glided two of his fingers up and down your drenched slit.

“Is this all from me?” His gruff honeyed voice had you melting in his hand.

You nod without breaking eye contact. He crawled over you, caging you in between his brawny arms. As his hardened dick rested on top of your center, he started to grind into you, coating the tip of his cock with your slick between your folds.

You couldn’t help but arch your back, rhythmically moving your hips with his to feel him rub against your clit. Your needy sighs spurred him on, knowing he was making you feel so good.

“Oh my God, Toye-“

“No. No more ‘Toye.’ I want to hear you say my name.” He commanded.

You stare at him.

“Fucking say it.” He ordered.

“Joe…” you breathed as you playfully nip at his lower lip, greedily locking onto his mouth.

He lifted you by the ass and pushed his length through your dripping entrance with one fleeting thrust forward.

You gasp then wrap your legs around his waist, waiting for the ride to begin. Joe unleashed over a year’s worth of pent up rage and frustration from the war onto you, railing into you in almost a deliciously painful pace. He was rough, and aggressive, yet attentive and sensual.

He sat up resting on his heels and angled you closer into him by hugging your thighs against him and driving into you, hitting that spot that had you edging to your finish.

He feels your walls constricting around his cock, and starts to slow his tempo. You look at him with a pout.

All you could manage was a strained, “Why?”

He pulled out and hastily flipped you onto your hand and knees. He reached around your front under your arms once again grabbing your throat with his perfect hand. He pull you back until your back was flush with his chest.

He guided the back of your head to rest on his shoulder before he turned to your ear.

“You think that fucking Fox Company chump could’ve done this for you?” He hissed.

You feel his grip constricting your neck. You’re so fucked out you can’t help but laugh.

“Fucking answer me, sweetheart. You think that asshole’s got anything on me?” His voice rumbling in your ear like thunder.

You start to pant, your bare chest and peaked nipples heaving from overstimulation and restriction of oxygen.

“No, Joe. Never.” You huffed.

You feel his lips curl into a smile against your jawline. He nipped at your ear.

“That’s right, baby.” He purred before he thrusted you forward on all fours.

He lined his dick up with your slippery pussy and entered you with a sweet push forward until he bottomed out. He plummeted into you, spanking you occasionally while his hips slammed into you.

“My God, Joe.” You moaned pushing back into him so he can get inside you as deep as possible.

“Yeah, scream my name so all Fox Company can hear.”

He had a vice grip on your waist, guiding you back everytime his hips came forward. The slams of his front against your ass grew steadily louder with groans and grunts between the two of you.

His stride began to stagger, and you could feel him pulsate inside you.

“I’m getting close, sweetheart.” You hear his low rugged voice from behind you.

“Me too, Joe.”

“I know, I can feel you squeezing on me. Let go, baby.” He hummed.

He reached around finding your clit and began rubbing hard circles onto the bud.

You close your eyes and focus on the sensation of where his hands were and the throbbing of his cock inside you then hearing his voice roar,

“Come on, baby, let go for me.”

He chased your orgasm until he felt your walls fluttering around his cock. You throw your head back practically howling as ropes of Joe’s cum released over and over again inside you. A guttural grunt left Joe’s lips as he groped your ass to have something to hold onto to steady himself.

Sweat glistened on his chiseled torso while he caught his breath. He snatched the hand towel by the basin next to the bed to clean you up after he pulled out. He plopped onto the bed next to you, pulling you into him to hold you.

You each sigh, content and relaxed in eachother’s afterglow.

“Your little bunny friend is going to be heart broken.” You joke.

Joe chuckled, “Yeah, I have that effect on people.”

You giggled.

“I got my girl right here.” He added.

Joe looked down adoringly at you with your head on his shoulder, sensing his eyes were on you, you look up at him. He gently kissed your lips, then rubbed his nose on the tip of yours.

~~~~~~~