#buck and dave are such a good couple that they make every other couple get super jealous and eventually split /SILLY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

buddielove · 3 years

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Hi! I'm a gay fan of 911 and I have a question about the whole Buddie fandom. As much as I like Buck and Eddie, it's frustrating that a HUGE part of the fandom is pushing for these two characters to get together instead of putting energy into supporting Hen & Carla and Michael & Dave. Not to mention Carlos and TK in Lone Star. Can you explain to me the appeal of wanting these two men together? Wouldn't it be more interesting to see two heterosexual males just be able to bond in a non-toxic fashion? That's something we don't get to see often on television.

Hey! This is MAD long lmao I am so sorry! You caught me on a day I felt like talking! Also this took like a year to answer you lolololol. This does have a few ʻhot takesʻ so please be warned! So like in this essay....

So first I am also apart of the LGBTQIA+ community, so I do understand how it could come across as a fetish or being non supportive of the current canonically LGBTQIA+ characters, however I think a lot of the interest around Buddie and the want for them to be confirmed as a couple is how they are being written. Me personally I knew since s2 e1 Buck and Eddie were written not as rivals but as two people who would eventually become friends, but it wasn’t until the Christmas episode with the elf assuming Buck was Chris’s dad and Eddie’s partner that I was like ‘hold on!’ because I was really hoping Abbey would return and I didn’t see Eddie as a possible Buck live interest because of that. The elf’s comment wasn’t played off like most other shows would (think Dean and Sam arriving anywhere in Supernatural) it made me go back and look at the other episodes to see exactly how Buck and Eddie were being framed/written. And as we have moved into further seasons I think there has been a shift in how Buddie is being written, in s3 it was very much like two people progressing into a deeper friendship then the blood clot/lawsuit gets in the way and they both have to deal with emotions surrounding that, then Buck’s response to Eddie being trapped (we see how is he when Boddy is trapped in a fire WITH A GUNMAN, it’s emotional but not to the point is is with Eddie), even the love interests feel very pushed on us and there’s so little banter between Buddie about their gfs and how they feel about these new beginnings. It feels off, not like a friendship in the slightest, more like two people trying to force something and not wanting to deal with any other feelings. Then when Eddie gets shot and reveals Buck is Chris’s legal Guardian in the event Eddie dies, that’s huge, and he did this after only a year of knowing Buck (I have friends with kids. I’ve known one of them for FIVE years, I’m at their house every week, the kid calls me family. I’m person #10 on the list of ‘who gets my kid if I die’, not #1 lol) It just feels like it’s all building up to something, and people are getting tired of waiting for that something! We’re all emotionally tired from the past two years, and probably from many shows queerbaiting us and this is something that could happen, seems to be something the actors are ok with and the fans want. So why do they keep drawing it out. This isn’t about us demanding they ignore the chance to write a healthy platonic male friendship, or forcing two characters to be gay, it’s about holding the writers to what they’ve implied and seeing what could come of it.

Also think of it like this; If Buddie is confirmed it will still be a good example of a healthy friendship which then developed into something else, like Booth/Bones! Showing the natural progression of friendship to relationship that happens a lot in real life. It’s two men who previously (on screen at least) have only been with woman, but now they have an emotionally connection with someone which they then develop and explore. This could be 911’s first nontoxic depiction of two gay characters coming together, because sorry not sorry the canon couples aren’t perfect (which does humanize them) but they also reenforce harmful troupes that plaque the LGBTQIA+ community, which I’m sure you understand: TK was a drug addict, who only got with Carlos at first cause he was hot and sex was TK’s new addition (all gay men are sex addicts who do drugs and sleep with anything that moves). Carlos was ashamed and wanted to keep TK on the downlow (poc gay men want to pretend to be straight but have free access to gay sex). Hen cheated on Karen seemingly the first chance she got (lesbians can’t handle monogamy when pushed, and cheat on their long term partners). All known and documented troupes that happen far too often.

I’m not saying Buddie is some gay jesus ship that’s gonna save the entertainment industry but if done right it could prove to be one of the few healthy depictions of two men getting into a gay relationship we have. If they plan it out correctly, show us the relationship development, like they did with Maddie/Chim for example, Buddie could be used as a positive example of a gay fictional relationship (I really could go into depth about this. I probably should tbh).

As for not supporting Hen and KAREN, or Michael and DAVID, I think fans do support them! The writers don’t. If you read fanfics Henren and Michael/David are featured heavily in many fics, and ik some people might say ‘well they’re only there so Buddie can talk about their gay side!!’ but both these couples have their own fans and fanfic tags! They aren’t just plot devices in Buddie stories. There is a huge side of the fandom that supports Henren and wants to see more of them and their family. Same with Michael and David, during the episode where Michael and Bobby team up to find that plastic surgeon who was working illegally many people where ecstatic that we were getting more Michael/David content and that David was getting more than a couple lines. But sadly it seems like the writers only want to delve into these story lines when they need filler, they even miss opportunities to include these other LGBTQIA+ characters when it makes sense;

(Someone came for me about this but I am going to bring it up again)

When Chris is sad and wants more human connection, instead of bring Harry + Michael/David and Denny+Nia+Henren back into the picture (and yes I understood at the time the pandemic was bad (lmao still is!!), but all the actors at some point would have/had crossed over into each other’s ‘bubbles’, so ALL the actors would have been exposed to each other so getting the children together with adults they had ALREADY been with during shooting wouldn’t have been a super spreader event) but instead they brought in Ana after only two on screen dates and pretended like it was a logical thing for someone who’s up to that point been extremely careful with their child.

They really could have pushed the ‘118 is a family!’ message here and included the canonically gay supporting characters, and the lesbian main character(s) but they did not and instead chose to push the Ana/Eddie coupling even though they hadn’t properly developed it yet. The writers themselves don’t seem to care about developing their canonically gay characters and including them more than they have to but fans are continuously developing Henren and Michael/David with hc and fics.

I’d like to use your logic against you for a second, in s1 we have a very healthy, platonic friendship between Chim/Bobby but that got written out to the point they are more like boss/employee unless the scene calls for them to seem closer, we now have Bobby and Michael friendship but again we hardly see Michael. On Lone Star we have Owen and Judd as a really, really good example of a healthy male friendship but we see Judd more often with Tommy now then we do with Owen, and in s2 it’s overshadowed by Owen trusting Charlie from Twilight and constantly getting fucked over! Why can’t the writter just be happy with these happy, healthy, emotionally well male-male friendship they’ve already included and expand upon them. There’s enough drama because the show literally involves burning buildings and people’s lives being at risk from some natural/man made disaster ever 12 seconds. Does it need to have so much interpersonal conflict and male peacocking??

#Buddie #Please donʻt get offended by anything in this!!!#These are JUST my opinions which MAY change the further we get into this show!!#ALSO IT IS JUST A TV SHOW!!!! PLEASE BE KIND TO ME AND TO EACH OTHER

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hanoella · 3 years

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Affettuoso- With Feeling (Part 4)

Pairing: Bucky x Pianist!Reader

Set after the events of TFATWS: In an effort to start over and make a home in Louisiana, Bucky meets a friend of Sam’s who ends up being his landlord. With only a driveway to separate them, he finds that he’s not the only one looking for a fresh start.

Series tags/warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Bucky x Reader, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Canon Level Violence

Part 4 Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Thanks again for all your support! Every heart and comment motivates me and is just so wonderful

Taglist!: @vicmc624

Read Part 1; Masterlist

The icon that marked where you were currently typing in your text blinked as you bit your lip. Looking back from where you were sitting at the kitchen table, you took stock of the open pantry once again. You were low on just about everything. With physical therapy exhausting your shoulder, it was hard to find the energy to lift any heavy bags. You had texted Sam for help, but unfortunately he was out of state.

“Bucky’s home, just ask him to go with you. He won’t mind” He had texted back.

You slouched back into the chair and groaned. You had only seen him in passing since he had helped you with the furniture. What was he, your live-in-caretaker? Was he just there to help you up and down the stairs and help you across the street? Sliding onto the floor, you made a small grunt as you felt your back straighten out and adjust to the floor. Resting a moment, you held your phone up and stared at the blinking bar. You hadn’t texted him before. Should you just call him? Or knock on his door? Ugh, why was this so hard. Whatever.

“Hey Bucky, I’m having trouble carrying stuff right now. Would you mind helping me out with grocery shopping sometime today or tomorrow? If not, no worries.”

Without a second thought, you sent it and set your phone down next to you. It was around 1PM, the only thing you having done up until then was getting dressed while sipping on coffee. Opting for a lazy look, you had worn soft leggings with an oversized sweater and fuzzy socks. Two simple braids and a headband kept your hair out of the way for when you eventually practiced. Only a few more weeks until you practiced with the actual orchestra. You should probably figure out something to wear besides lounge clothes.

The buzz on the floor caught your attention and you took a peak at your home screen

1 New Message:

Bucky Barnes: Sure, is now good?

Shoot. You quickly got up and walked to the bathroom. Your hair wasn’t too messy. Why do you look so tired? Opting for some mascara, you texted Bucky back before digging around in your makeup bag.

Yeah, meet at my car in a minute?

---

Bucky pocketed his phone and took a quick look in the mirror. Should he shave? Scratching his beard, he made a face before deciding against. It would take him more than a minute. Why didn’t he just say thirty minutes from now? Running a hand through his hair, he grabbed a jacket and walked out of the apartment.

As he walked over the freshly fallen leaves in the driveway, he opted for leaning against your car. He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned his head to look out over the water. It had been quiet lately, just chilly enough to silence the summer chorus of buzzing and croaks. Now all that was left was the occasional honking of geese flying overhead.

He had only been there for a couple of minutes when you came out onto the porch. You had hastily thrown on some brown leather boots, the left one still untied. The little bit of mascara and lip gloss you put on made you feel better about not looking like death. It was nice to do a little something, even if it was just the grocery store.

“Hey!” you said, slightly breathless as you bounded down the stairs, keys jingling in your hand.

Bucky echoed your greeting back to you with a small smile and wave.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” You said, clicking the key fob to unlock the car.

“Oh it’s no problem. I didn’t really have much to do anyway.” He said, ducking his head to sit in the passenger side seat. He noticed how as soon as you closed the door, you clicked the locks shut. Then you brought your left heel up on the edge of the seat so that you could tie your shoe.

“Thanks so much. I really appreciate it. Usually, I don’t need too much help, but I need cases of waters and stuff like that. I was gonna get someone to help me at the grocery store but I realized I’d still be left in a lurch once I got home. I figured if you needed, we could just get groceries together this time,” you explained while double knotting the laces.

Starting the car and putting on your seatbelt, you looked behind you out of habit to make sure you weren’t going to hit anything as you backed out of the driveway.

“Huh. It looks like it’s going to rain.” You said, observing the darker clouds and the wind picking up. Putting the car in drive, you started down the driveway.

“Music?” You offered, gesturing towards the radio.

“I don’t really know what’s been playing these days… or for the last sixty years if I’m being honest.” At least it’s nice not to have to lie about it, Bucky thought.

“Well, we have a lot to catch you up on then.” You said, stopping at the end of the driveway and grabbing your phone. Scrolling through your music, you hit the bluetooth button on the console.

“This playlist has all my favorite classics on it. Feel free to skip anything you don’t like.” You said, handing him the phone and turning onto the road. The music started, prompting Bucky looked down at the phone. September- Earth, Wind & Fire.

---

Four songs later you were at the supermarket, grabbing a cart and discussing favorites.

“That last one was good too. Which one was that?” Bucky asked.

“That’s Stolen Away on 55th & 3rd. Dave Matthews Band. Now mind you, some of those are way older than others. The only thing they all have in common is that they’re all at least ten years old.”

“Huh.” He’s really missed out on a lot.

The two of you continued chatting as you went through the various sections. A couple cases of water. A bag of salad. Deli meats and cheeses. Bread. Ground beef. Pasta and pasta sauce. The topic turned to older music from Bucky’s time.

“I’m surprised you have heard of her.” He said, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“Well, I’m going to be honest, the only reason I have any knowledge of it at all is because I had to take a lot of Music History classes in college. For whatever reason, they thought that to play music, you needed to know every which way that it’s evolved throughout the years. Though, I have to say,” you paused, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now, I’m kind of glad I did.” You looked up at him slightly, face just a tad warm as he met your eyes. You both looked away and he coughed awkwardly. Feeling embarrassed, you scan the shelves of snacks before hearing him quietly say behind you-

“… I’m glad you did too. It’s different. And kind of nice to talk to someone about it. Who actually knows what I’m talking about.”

Trying to keep your smile small, you continued to look at the array of cookies on the shelf. A hand passed over your shoulder to take a pack of shortbread cookies.

“Hmm. Shortbreads.” You say, holding your arms behind your back. “Verrry interesting.”

“What?” He replied defensively.

“You can tell a lottttt about a man by his snack preferences.”

“Well, what do shortbreads say?” Bucky asked, leaning his forearms on the handle of the cart so that he was now eye level with you. It was too late this time to hide your smile. You turned back around to grab a pack of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

“If I tell you what they mean, you’ll just pick the kind that you think has the best traits. You’re not fooling me anytime soon.” You said with a laugh before you whisked yourself around the corner.

“Hey, that’s not fair, come back!” He pushed the cart around the corner where he ran into you hugging Sarah. The boys were with her and they went absolutely ballistic.

“Uncle Buck! Uncle Buck!” They shouted as they bombarded him.

“AJ! Cass! Stop acting crazy in the grocery store!” Sarah said, reprimanding them. You chuckled at the sight of Bucky being slowly overwhelmed by the two boys. He pried them off his legs and crouched so that he was eye level with them.

“Hey, I missed you guys. I haven’t seen you guys since the last time Uncle Sam and I came back-”

“-from fighting bad guys, right!” AJ said, getting a little too excited and causing Sarah to give him the look. Bucky tried not to laugh and held a finger up to his mouth to signal that they needed to be quiet.

“Yes, from fighting bad guys.”

You turned towards Sarah with a grin and put your hand on her arm.

“We’ll have to have all of you over, come see the new house. Will you text me a day next week when you, Sam, and the kids are free?”

“That sounds great. I’m so glad you got to move down here. I’ll let you know about next week!” Sarah said. She also walked around the cart and gave Bucky a hug. He returned it but glanced towards you nervously; You were already looking away. When they pulled away from each other, Sarah glanced in your direction and then at Bucky, a knowing smile on her face and eyebrows wiggling. Bucky made a face with wide eyes, letting her know to cut it out. Sarah laughed slightly while saying goodbye:

“It was good to see you, Buck.” Sarah said, laughing as she rolled the cart away, AJ and Cass in tow, who were both shouting goodbyes at Uncle Buck.

“Good to see you too…” He trailed off in her direction.

“Man, those boys really love Uncle Buck.” You said teasingly, making him jump slightly and turn around. You laughed and walked towards the next aisle, leaving Bucky red in the ears.

---

It was just starting to rain when you parked the car in the driveway. You grabbed some of the lighter bags and ran up the steps, hurrying to unlock the door. Bucky was piling on the grocery bags as the rain got heavier. He hauled everything inside as you held the door open for him. He lifted the groceries up onto the kitchen counter and made his way down the stairs again.

“Still have to get the cases of water.” He explained in response to your confused face. The rain was still getting heavier. Hauling the two jumbo cases onto his shoulder and carrying the last one by the plastic in his hand, he made his way up the porch, slower this time. You held the door open, looking incredulously again at how easy it was for him as he passed.

By the time he had set the waters down, you had grabbed a towel for him, extending it to him while looking away at from his drenched shirt.

“Thanks,” he said, toeing off his shoes and drying his hair with the towel before draping it over his shoulders.

“Please, let me make you some tea. You must be freezing.” You said, already digging through the pantry for some.

“Well, if you’re offering, I won’t say no.” He said, taking a seat at the kitchen island.

“Yeah, hold on, it’s kind of dark. Let me turn on the lights…” You trailed off as the light switch did nothing. Flicking it a few times back and forth, you sighed.

“I’m so sorry, the real estate agent told me it’s pretty easy to lose power in this area since there’s so many trees. They usually have it back on pretty quick though I’m told.” You said, now digging through another cabinet.

“It’s completely fine, you can’t control that. I’ll just take a raincheck-”

“Found it!” You said, cutting him off and proudly presenting the gas-powered single burner. You set it down in front of Bucky who watched as you also grabbed a tea light and a lighter from in the drawer.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” You asked while lighting it.

---

Three more tea lights and a kettle of hot water later, Bucky was sitting with the towel draped over his shoulders, sipping on the warm cup of green tea. The flames created flickering shadows as you added the pasta to the pot of boiling water.

“I knew this was going to come in handy. I’m glad I saved it.” You said, setting a timer on your phone as you leaned on the counter across from Bucky.

“Why do you have it in the first place?” He asked curiously.

“I kind of had to hop around for a little bit before I got down here. I would stay in hotels but I didn’t want to eat out every night so this came in handy. Ole reliable.” You said, looking down at one of the tea lights.

There was a moment of silence before you pursed your lips.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, setting the cup down.

“Has Sam told you… how I ended up here?” You asked, now looking straight at him. The look on his face told you the answer before he could respond.

“I see…”

“Hey, I’m sorry, I-”

You held up a hand to cut him off, soft smile on your face.

“No, it’s okay. I told him that if it ever came up, he could talk about it. I’m pretty open about it. How much did he tell you?” you asked, wrapping your hands around the cup to absorb some of the warmth.

“Just the basics. You two were together, then he got… violent. And you trying to leave.” He said, looking down into his cup.

“Yeah, that just about covers it… He kept following me after I got out of the hospital so I had to get a rental car and hotel hop for a while… When I got the house down here, I finally got my actual car and just booked it here. He’s never been to Louisiana before and he doesn’t know that Sam lives here now, instead of DC. I’m hoping he’s frolicking in city traffic, getting run over as he looks for me. Bucky snorted and tried not to laugh, which made you laugh.

“Sorry, it’s not funny.” He said, covering his mouth.

“Oh, it totally is.” You said, talking in a way where he could tell that you were smiling.

You both laughed as you grabbed a strainer out of the pantry. Draining the pasta, you both settled into a comfortable silence.

“Well, I’m glad you can joke about it.” Bucky said, watching as you poured pasta sauce into the pot to warm it up before chucking the rest of the pasta in.

“Some days are better than others. I’m just happy that I can stop running. Still, I do get a bit paranoid sometimes. I feel like I’m going to turn a corner and he’ll be right there.” You said, rubbing your arms as if you were comforting yourself. At that moment, Bucky looked at you and noticed for the first time how truly tired you looked. Dark circles underneath a sleep deprived gaze. Eyes clouded by worry and paranoia. Bucky’s seen that look on himself before. Before Steve found him in Bucharest, before he could trust his own mind. When he had to avoid being recognized, avoid being found, avoid falling back into Hydra’s grasp.

You exhaled as you uncrossed your arms, mixing the pot before sprinkling cheese on top. “Dinner’s all done.” Bucky sat peacefully, enjoying the aroma of the tomato and basil. Taking a deep breath, he slowly exhaled before speaking up again.

“Well. I’m here now.”

“Hmm?” You called back, not quite hearing him over the clanking of the bowls you took out.

“I’m here now,” he repeated, this time with more confidence. “So… you don’t have to worry about it. If you ever get worried about it, just call me. Or text me… Or knock on the door… and I’ll talk to you or I’ll check it out, keep an eye on the house from the apartment, or just be in the house with you. It’s not a bother, if it’ll give you peace of mind. I’ve been through something… similar. With, uh, the whole Hydra… thing…” Bucky trailed off as you stared at him with a neutral face. He was getting ready to backpedal, hand reaching for the back of his neck out of nervous habit, until you spoke.

“You’d do that?” You said, face unchanged, eyes searching his.

“Yeah… Yeah, I would.”

You blinked a few times before looking aside and trying to clear the frog from your throat.

“I don’t even know what to say but thank you. That is such a big relief.” You said, voice wavering slightly, one hand coming up to touch your forehead out of relief. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Nobody should have to go through that alone.” Bucky said softly.

You touched his hand softly, giving it a gentle squeeze before stealing your own back. You turned around to grab a drink when you paused, looking out the window.

“It stopped raining.” You stated, watching as the little bit of sunlight brightened the colors of the changing leaves. Bucky, on the other hand, was watching how the little bit of sunlight brightened you. He rubbed his thumb against where your hand had just been, trying to recreate the feeling of your hand on his.

#bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine

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deascheck · 3 years

Text

Midterm Surprise

Midterms

Ask: “How - how did you find me?”

Word Count: 1922

Warnings: smut

A/N: This is one of my first DeanxReader fics… would love feedback on whether or not I captured his personality! Though they aren't really an item... ?? @flamencodiva I hope it's everything you were wanting! I'm a novice to writing smut so I hope it's ok! *crosses fingers*

You sighed. You could not believe you’d made it through your three hour lecture class. Somehow, you’d stayed awake, though you could not say the same for everyone in the class. You looked around. About every fifth person was still asleep. You chuckled tiredly. I can’t blame them, now can I? I wanted to do the exact same thing. You picked up your laptop and notebook and stuffed them in your backpack.

Maybe I’ll go to my favorite diner to study for midterms, you thought. I deserve a fucking treat after getting through this goddamn class.

You walked to the parking lot and got into your 1967 Chevy Camaro. You loved your car. She was your pride and joy and you called her Baby. Not unlike a certain hero who’d saved you from a werewolf a couple years back. His car was similar to yours, a 1967 Chevy Impala. A real beauty. He called her Baby, too. You smiled at the memory. Damn, was Dean proud of that car. Dean had gone on his way, but not before the two of you had spent the night together making memories neither of you were likely to forget.

Shaking your head, you brought yourself back to the present. You drove across town to your favorite hole in the wall diner, a quaint little 24/7 diner where the workers all knew you by name.

You hauled your backpack onto your back and walked in.

“Hey, Joy! Hey, Dave! How’s it goin’ today?” you asked.

Joy and Dave smiled at you as you sat down at the counter. “It’s goin even better now that you’re here, Y/N! It’s been a couple weeks! Where ya been hiding?” replied Joy, the waitress who was standing by your seat.

‘Oh you know, it’s midterms comin’ up, and all. Gotta study so I can get those A’s!” you said.

Dave laughed. “Ohhh midterms. I don’t miss those,” he stated. “I know I’ve only been out of college for a couple years, but damn I don’t miss it!”

Joy nudged you. “Your usual?”

You grinned. “Yes m’am! I gotta be fully nourished to study for this stupid Psychology class. I thought I’d love Psychology,” you added. “But having it in a three hour lecture format just blows.”

Thirty minutes later, you were deeply engrossed in lecture notes and flashcards. You were so busy studying, you didn’t hear the bell ring as the door opened. You were looking at your flashcards in your lap, and all of a sudden noticed a pair of worn boots standing close to you. Offended, you brought your head up to tell the guy off for invading your space when your words stopped dead in your throat. A brown-haired, green-eyed, devilishly handsome man was smirking back at you.

“D-Dean! Oh my god! How- how did you find me?” You couldn’t believe your eyes.

“You’re assuming I was looking for you sweetheart,” he retorted. “Just kiddin’. Sammy and I are in town for a hunt. I dropped him off at the morgue and was looking for a bite to eat when I saw your Baby. I’d recognize that car anywhere. I figured I’d stop in here and give you a hard time,” he said with a glint in his eye.

“A hard time, eh?” you said. “I see. Well, I’m in the middle of studying for my Psychology midterm. Would you care to join me?”

Dean’s smirk turned into a smile when you didn’t turn him down, and he replied, “Darlin’, I’d love to.”

An hour later, Dean was quizzing you with your flashcards when his phone rang.

“Sammy, what’s up? …. Uh-huh. Ok. … Yeah, I’ll be right there. Gimme 10 minutes.”

Dean looked at you regretfully. “Well, sweetheart, I’ve gotta go pick up Sammy from the morgue. It was really nice seein’ you.” He looked at you with something almost like hope in his eyes.

You knew you couldn’t let this opportunity pass you up. “Umm… I don’t suppose you’d want to meet up later?” you asked.

Dean grinned broadly. “Here’s my number. Text me your address and we’ll figure somethin’ out,” he said. He grabbed your hand and wrote his number on the back of it. Winking at you, Dean stood up and headed for the door. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart,” he called over his shoulder.

As soon as he left, you texted him your address. “Meet me at 7pm,” your next text said.

You realized it was almost five and panicked. You had to clean up the apartment, shower, and find something suitable to wear for Dean when he arrived.

You drove home in record time and instantly went about putting laundry away, putting dishes in the dishwasher, and picking up school papers and tidying them. You then took a quick shower and chose your best pair of lingerie, hoping your night with Dean would end steamy. Over your dark red lace panties and bra, you put yoga pants and a loose t-shirt that hung over one shoulder. Just as you finished getting dressed, the doorbell rang.

You took a deep breath. This is it, you thought. Here goes nothing. You swung the door open to find Dean standing there about to knock. He smiled at you. “Hey there, sweetheart.”

“Hey stranger,” you managed back. Why was he so handsome? He was in a red shirt, with dark jeans and boots. He’d clearly run his hands through his hair in an attempt to smooth it.

Stepping back, you let him into your apartment. He took his shoes off and followed you to the kitchen. “Drink?” you asked.

“Sure, sweetheart,” he answered. “Thanks.”

You got out a bottle of whiskey and two whiskey glasses. You poured a couple fingers and handed him his drink. Drinking was not what was on your mind though, as you stared at him from under your lashes.

He shifted in his seat at the kitchen table and said, “If you keep looking at me like that, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.” His pupils were blown, lust filling his eyes.

You sidled to his lap and straddled him. “Maybe I don’t want you to be,” you said seductively.

With that, he pulled you flush against him and began to heatedly kiss you, his soft lips crushed against yours. As you kissed, you could feel a bulge building in his pants, and as your tongues fought for dominance in each other’s mouths, you brought one hand down from his hair and began to palm his erection through his jeans.

He moaned against your mouth and bucked his hips. You grinned into the kiss and suddenly Dean was slapping your ass. You jerked, surprised, but it turned you on, and the heat that was already pooling between your legs became more intense. You needed friction. You started grinding against him. The two of you were breathing raggedly, grinding against each other like teenagers.

All of a sudden, Dean growled. “Enough of this. Where is your room?” He stood up with you wrapping your legs around his waist and you murmured, “Down the hall to the right,” as you kissed his neck and sucked on his earlobe. Dean groaned as he walked. “You’re killin’ me, sweetheart.”

You could feel Dean’s erection and you wanted nothing more than to take it in your mouth and get him off. But Dean had other plans for you. His hands were grabbing your shirt, ripping it over your head and throwing it across the room. His face darkened with lust when he saw your red lace bra and he eagerly pulled your pants down to your ankles, where you stepped out of them. Dean stepped back for a minute, admiring you in your lingerie before closing the gap between you and smashing his lips against yours, his hands coming up behind you and unclasping your bra. It fell between the two of you and Dean brought one of his hands back around and started fondling your breast. He massaged it, and rolled the nipple between his fingers. It was hardened, showing how turned on you were.

You decided he had too many clothes on too, and began to work on the buttons on his shirt, letting out a grunt of frustration at how many buttons there were. Dean chuckled into the kiss and deftly finished unbuttoning his shirt. He shrugged it off and followed it with his black t-shirt. He shoved you against the edge of the bed so that you fell back onto it. You watched him hungrily as he undid his pants and brought them down with his boxers. His erection sprang free, and you could see the pre-cum leaking from his head already.

Dean crawled on top of you and began kissing your neck and trailing down between your breasts, down your stomach, and down your leg, ending at your ankle. You had no idea how sensitive your ankle was to kisses but you weren’t about to complain. Your chest heaved as you silently begged for him to relieve your need.

Dimly, in the background, you could hear Dean’s phone ringing. The two of you ignored it as Dean pulled your panties to one side, exposing your drenched pussy. He groaned at the sight of it. “So ready for me, sweetheart. All that for me,” he muttered as he brought his tongue sliding through your folds.

Your response was instantaneous. Your hips bucked, needing more of that friction. Dean grabbed your hips and held them down as he sucked on your clit, pleasure shooting through you. You took one of your hands and fisted Dean’s hair, gently pulling and attempting to guide him. Your other hand went to your breast as you massaged it, desperate to find your climax. Dean’s fingers found your hole, and he slipped two inside as he curled them against your walls, licking and sucking along your pussy. You were close. You could feel yourself tightening, and you moaned, “Dean, I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for me, baby girl,” he said. “Cum.” He took your clit in his teeth and gently rolled it around in his mouth. With that, your back arched off the bed and you screamed his name, waves of pleasure coursing through you. Dean finger fucked you through your orgasm, your pussy clenching around his fingers over and over again. His tongue lapped your juices, sucking up every drop.

Dean’s phone rang again. And again. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered. He got up and answered it. “This had better be good, Sammy,” he said angrily. He went silent as he listened. “Fuck,” he said. “Ok, I’m coming.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. We’re gonna have to pick this up later,” he murmured as he leaned over to kiss you. You grabbed behind his ears with both hands and held him in place, your lips caressing his. “Don’t go,” you pleaded.

“I’m sorry,” he groaned with frustration. “Trust me, doll, I don’t want to go anymore than you want me to leave. But it’s an emergency. Another person just died. I’ve gotta go,” he explained.

You sighed and released him. “I��ll be waiting,” you said, and spread your legs wide so he could get a good look.

“FUCK, Y/N. You’re - you’re going to be the death of me,” he stuttered. He got dressed, his erection at full mast. He tucked it into his pants with a groan. “Goddammit Sam, always the cockblocker.”

“I’ll be back, sweetheart,” he said. And just like that, he was gone.

Taglist: @katelynw93

#supernatural writing #supernaturalfandom #supernatural fan fic #supernatural smut #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #deascheck

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lifewithdavefarts · 3 years

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DaveFarts - Episode 6 “Fart Bet, Easy Bucks” [Episode List] When, rather immaturely, Tim’s friends are doing some random, silly bets, things soon turn stinkier and gassier as Dave joins the game…

Fart Bet, Easy Bucks

The immature, roaring laughter of me and my friends echoed in the living-room as another pal of mine, Jim, took one last bite of an onion, his cheeks turning red, teary eyes, almost puking in front us. We clapped our hands like the drunk monkeys we were, ignoring our friend’s gagging sounds, and we all took another shot of vodka in his honor.

“Well done, Jim!” Adam laughed, as tipsy as the rest of us.

That’s what we were doing in Adam’s parent-free house: really mature bets. At late night, it was almost 3:00 a.m. Our onion-eating friend just lost one of those silly bets we were challenging each other to do. Pretty stupid tasks, like standing on one foot for 3 minutes or reading stuff upside down. Quite mundane, easy, but try doing it after two bottles of vodka-lemon. Each. The loser had to take a couple of bites of an onion, because as I said, we’re very mature. And clever.

The entire room stunk like that stinky vegetable and alcohol, didn’t help that some of us were also burping loudly and proudly, but we were too tipsy to even notice or even be bothered by that (plus, it’s not like I’m not used to… bad-smelling stuff…). When not betting each other to do shit, we were all sitting on two different couches: Adam, Jim and a couple of other guys were all sitting and burping on a longer couch, while I was on a smaller one with Dave, sitting next to me.

As more laughs roared in the room for no reason, in the chaos, Dave elbowed me and chuckled a bit, bringing to my attention the weird vibrations on the couch: he was ripping one of his big farts, the sound completely muffled by the pillows, his loose dark grey jeans probably making it sound even louder and manlier. I only smiled a bit a took another shot of vodka; my gassy friend did the same, finding my awkward reaction hilarious as usual.

“Tim, it’s your turn!”

I almost chocked on my own drink when I heard my name: Dave’s flatulence usually makes me very absent-minded. I finally realized that Adam was standing in the middle of the room, each one of us, one by one, whistling a song to him: if he guessed wrong, then it’s onion-hell for him. It was my turn to whistle a song then. I think about it for a moment, and then I start to whistle this famous hit from a couple of years earlier, but I was pretty drunk, so I didn’t really realize how weird the sounds coming out of my lips were, but my friends laughing should have been a wake-up call.

Eventually, Adam ran out of time, because he couldn’t guess the song I was “singing” to him. He was mad, almost furious, but it was the alcohol talking.

“Tim, you’re an idiot!” he was understandably angry, because it was my fault. “That wasn’t even a real song, you asshole!”

Didn’t help that we were all laughing at him, but my friend didn’t accept defeat, and he actually had all the rights to.

“I’m not going to eat those fucking onions!” Adam shouted. “Tim made me lose: he should be the one choking on that shit!”

I wasn’t offended, to be honest. I was actually laughing like the rest of the guys.

“Dude… we’re out of onions!” Jim said, noticing the empty plate.

We all laughed even more after that and I may have given to my angry friend a smug-ish look. I was just kidding, but he took it very seriously.

“Oh you’re going down, Tim. Just you wait…”

He eventually convinced our other pals that I was, indeed, deserving a “punishment”.

“Make him lick your dog’s balls!” someone suggested. “Leave my princess out of this!” Adam replied, offended.

It’s like the entire group stopped being drunk just to decide what disgusting task I should have done. I just laughed the whole time: it’s part of the game, they were not mean-spirited. Even Dave suggested some stuff, like drinking expired milk with my nostrils. Each suggestion was met with a mixture of laughter and disgust.

After a couple of minutes of discussion, I felt Dave once again elbowing me.

“Gentlemen, please!” he shouted, in a slightly sarcastic tone. “Since you’re wasting my time, I propose an entire new bet. Whether the result, Tim will still get his… punishment, trust me!”

He was trying not to laugh, but he did earn some puzzled looks from our other pals.

“If Tim survives to this for 5 minutes straight…” he leaned a bit, the couch shaking again under the pressure of his enormous, muffled fart, which lasted 4 seconds. Our other friends laughed immaturely and I started to sweat. “…then you guys are going to give us 20$. Each.”

Dave was insane. Was he really going to do what I think… no, that’s just crazy. It can’t be, come on! There was people watching us! Our friends were a both amused and disgusted. But also intrigued.

“But if he gives up, then Tim owes Adam… let’s see… 200$” “What?!” I thought, the money-part being the only thing I disagreed with. The thought of Dave face-farting me was amazingly distracting as usual.

As our friends discussed Dave’s proposal, my gassy friend just patted my shoulder. “Come on Tim, that’s some easy bucks, right?” he whispered, chuckling a bit. My fetish was just a weird, fun game to him, and I couldn’t have been happier. But in front of our pals? That was too strange even for my standards.

When I turned to my gassy bro, however, he was already leaning on his back, his legs cocked up, his loose dark grey jeans forming that well-known “barrage” made of denim, a really familiar sight for me. I heard my friends laugh, Adam getting closer to me, his hands on my shoulders.

“Come on Tim… I want to see your face turn green!”

He was trying to sound threatening, but he couldn’t help but laugh; I know Adam: he’s just a friendly dork trying to act tough and I knew that he was actually finding the entire situation immaturely hilarious. But he had to look mad, it’s part of his… character.

I heard Dave sucking some air in his ass, his jeans now sagging, exposing a bit of his red underwear (interesting color, that’s for sure). The weird sounds coming from my friend’s butt were the only thing I could hear, despite my friends laughing. Every time Dave farted was like a dream coming true, but this time we were not alone. I stopped thinking about how risky the situation was for a moment, knowing that my friends would never suspect what was really going on between me and Dave, and just listened to the chorus of “Sniff it!”.

I gently buried my face in that soft, denim pillow, his legs slowly wrapping around my head, as if he was hugging me, trapping me in his gas-chamber. With my nose touching his underwear-covered anus, I could still feel the air being sucked in. A moment of silence, and then I felt his butt-muscles relax, and a first fart began.

It was so loud it’s hard to describe. Despite being on command, it was incredibly gross and wet-ish. The smell was rancid and unbearable, the mixture of alcohol and onions in Dave’s stomach probably produced something that no human would have been able to handle. The fart was so strong… loud, manly: my entire face was shaking, I swear I’ll never get used to his gassy talent. I could barely hear my friends laughing: my ears were devoted to Dave’s immense display of flatulence.

I coughed a bit, pretending to hate the smell, when the truth was obviously really different. This first fart alone lasted almost 20 seconds, one of the longest I’ve ever experienced from him. Our friends clapped their hands in approval, having yet another shot of vodka, a toast to the incredible display of fart-talent they just witnessed, and just kept laughing immaturely.

As they laughed, I saw Dave’s face just above that “barrage” of sagging jeans: as usual, he was laughing, and smiled at me, and then winked: his “plan” was working great. I felt his hand brushing through my hair and gently pushing me even deeper into the denim depths of his ass, this time with my nose almost perfectly aligned with his underwear-clad anus.

Dave’s grip, as usual, felt more like a caress, and the fart that immediately followed was just as big as the first one. And hilarious as well. “This is a natural one!” I heard him say, basically bragging about his gassy-abilities, as the fart kept going strong, our friends laughing again. “Pull him closer!” Jim shouted, then (probably him) pushed me even more “inside” of Dave’s butt (I couldn’t tell if it was Jim, as my face –and eyes- was completely buried in my friend’s fart-shooter). Dave made his butt comically wiggle a bit, forcing some toots out: my nostrils were almost burning, the stench being a mixture of rotten onions and burning vodka-lemon.

“That’s so gay!” Adam laughed. Ironically, he was right, about me at least.

“3 minutes already!” I heard somebody scream. I almost lost track of time: as I said, those farts make me absent-minded. Dave just kept ripping this series of loud rips one after one, without even sucking in. I couldn’t tell anymore whether he was farting on command or not anyway: he was just so good at it that the farts always felt natural (and, 99% of times, they were). “Aww man.” Dave chuckled, lying down slowly. He was tired, exhausted. “Can I turn around?!” he asked. They all simply laughed in response, though I also heard some gagging sounds.

My best friend turned around slowly, adjusting his position, his legs somehow keeping my face planted in his ass, as if he was “wrestling” me down, albeit very slowly and gently. He was now lying on his stomach, his loose-jeans butt looking like a beautiful pillow made of denim, his red underwear slightly popping out.

“Do your longest one, Dave!” Adam suggested. I was both mad and grateful for that.

He then came closer and made sure that my face was buried in the farter’s butt, pushing me even deeper in it. Dave just laughed, while I was trying not to get as red as tomato. I just couldn’t believe how open-minded Dave was about this, going as far as face-farting me in front of everyone else; granted, the bet was a smart excuse, but still, I was speechless. I didn’t even feel embarrassed: it was like a big prank, and friends alway prank each other, but the friendship remains intact, if not even stronger.

“Alright, I feel a good one… ready?” my gassy friend said, but it’s like he was talking to me only, as if we were alone as usual, during one of our fart sessions.

It’s like his butt “hugged” my face even more, right before the explosion that engulfed my entire, defenseless head in a cloud of stench. The fart shook my entire face and part of the couch like an earthquake. The chainsaw-like sounds were as loud as a thunder; the whole flatulence sounded fake, but it wasn’t, at all. 10 seconds, but the fart kept going strong, almost unnaturally.

I caught a glimpse of Dave’s smile as he slightly turned his head around, making sure I was enjoying it, but the rest of our friends didn’t notice that apparently, as they were too busy laughing and clapping their hands. “No way!” Adam shouted, in a mixture of anger and hilarity: as the fart was still being ripped, Dave slightly lowered his jeans a bit, fully exposing the red underwear, the sound getting even louder. I felt his hand again pushing me between his buttcheeks, as he spread his legs a bit more. I was having a close-encounter with his anus, the underwear acting as one final line of defense separating me from the real source of that gas. The smell was unbearable: onions smelt nice in comparison. And it was great.

As a “big finale”, as Dave announced it, the flatulence turned as loud as it was humanly possible, the ear-piercing sound almost destroying my own eardrums. My nostrils were burning, my nose getting wet-ish due to Dave’s sweaty buttcheeks. It was the most intense face-farting that my best friend ever made me experience… and he was straight: imagine if he was gay!

“No fucking way!” Adam roared. “5 minutes!”

Everyone else cheered and laughed, playfully throwing pillows at our angry friend. I slowly sat back, Dave doing the same, tying his jeans belt again. He patted on my shoulder, laughing, while I was doing my best to tame my huge boner, hidden by my own jeans.

“No way! You guys did this before, come on!”

Adam asked, ironically (if only he knew…), now laughing too, as he took a 20$ bill out of his wallet. The rest of the guys reluctantly did the same, throwing money at us, disgusted and amused at the same time.

The entire living-room now smelt like onions and rotten alcohol (if rotten-alcohol existed… does it exist?), everyone moaning in disgust, while me and Dave counted the money we just earned… by cheating.

“Easiest bucks we ever made!” he whispered, handing 50% of the cash to me, elbowing me like he did other times. “Great job!” he chuckled.

We all had another shot of vodka-lemon, and the night proceeded as usual, as Jim found another stash of onions hidden in the fridge. As the really clever betting continued, my gaze landed more than once on Dave… just Dave, sitting next to me, as if nothing happened. He’s like a brother, my best friend. He did that for me, he felt he was really gassy because of all the alcohol… and so farted in my face as an excuse, money or not.

Yes, I bet Dave did all of that for me, not just the money. And that’s another bet I’m sure I’ll win.

End of Episode 6

#fart story #eproctophilia #fartkink #davefarts2 #gayfart #malefarts

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delaber · 3 years

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Teasing and stuff that turns smutty maybe with Rafa being surprised that he's not the one in control?

Title: Not in Control

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Note: thanks Anon! This was a lot of fun hehe

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: completely and utterly smut :)

You stumbled into your bedroom, lips still attached, Rafa's hands running feverishly all over your body as he pressed his pelvis up against your bottom. His fingers constantly shifting around on the fabric of your dress as if he couldn't make up his mind on where to keep them. You were well aware of how much he had wanted this all night; the longing look he had sent you from across the room as you had entered the party, the naughty things he had whispered in your ear as you'd made your rounds and said hello, his tongue in your ear when you'd 'casually' bumped into him in the bathroom in-between courses, his desperate hand between your thighs during dinner. His sexual frustration had been so obvious to you but no one else had seen a thing. Thank god! The fact that no one knew about the two of you only made it so much hotter. Rafa had assured you that not even his best friend Daveed knew what the fuck was going on. And you loved it. Having sex with Rafa behind everybody's backs felt forbidden although it really wasn't. You were just two friends who were insanely attracted to each other and who met up occasionally to have rough sex. No need to tell the whole world no matter how good it was.

"This dress..." Rafa mumbled against your skin, "I fucking love this dress! I've been wanting to rip it off you since the moment you stepped in."

"I bought for you," you groaned as his lips found the sensitive spot on your skin.

"Turn around. Let me see you," he said and you did a little twirl for him, "Oh fuck!" he groaned, "I can't decide which angle of you looks best. I've been thinking about fucking you all night," his tongue found your ear, "you know how I love your little obedient face when you do what I tell you to do," he hissed against your ear as his hand snaked its way up to your throat where he firmly pressed in on the veins.

You let out a small moan at his actions and physically felt the wetness grow between your legs as he took control over you. But you had promised yourself that tonight would be different. Tonight you would be the one in control over him.

"Take off your dress for me," he said harshly, as he pinched your hard nipples through the dress' fabric, "and get on the fucking bed."

"No," you simply said.

You felt Rafa freeze behind you. His hands stopped moving around and his lips were retracted from your skin, "...no?" he said in a surprised tone of voice.

"No," you simply repeated before you slowly turned around in his arms, "you're not in control tonight. I am."

At first, he was about to interject but he thought better of it and instead sent you a look that was fifty percent devilish, fifty percent surprised. "...if you say so," he ended up smirking to try and hide the fact that he had been taken aback.

"Good," you said and nodded to the winged chair that you had moved from the living room to your bedroom just for this purpose, "strip down to your boxers and sit down."

"Yes ma'am," Rafa smirked, hands flying to the button on his slacks.

While he undressed, you opened your dresser and pulled out a silk ribbon that you had saved for this occasion.

When you turned around to face him again, Rafa was patiently waiting in the chair wearing just his boxers.

"I have a treat for you because you're so obedient," you almost whispered. You could see Rafa's eyes grow darker as you slowly walked over to him and straddled his waist. "Give me your wrists," you said and ghosted your fingers just above his massive erection. Rafa visibly gulped but clapped his hands together in a swift motion, and held out his wrists to you.

"Look at you all obedient," you smirked as you tied his wrists together with the ribbon. You grabbed his jaw and forced him to look into your eyes, "now tell me who's in control of this."

"You are," he gulped against your fingers as he desperately looked into your eyes.

"Good," you kissed him hungrily and sensually moved your hips around on top of him, earning yourself a little whimper coming from the back of his throat as he enjoyed the friction you were creating. You pulled your face back from his and grabbed the lower hem of the tight dress you were wearing. Slowly, you pulled it upwards, in the process revealing your lace panties and your soft stomach. Your actions were so painfully slow, that Rafa wanted to rip the useless piece of fabric into shreds just to have you naked on top of him a couple of seconds earlier. It had been three days since your last encounter and in Rafa's opinion, it had been way too long. He had been craving this since you'd said goodbye on Thursday morning.

You pressed your pelvis against his erection as your dress rode higher and higher. Slowly, you lifted the fabric over your tits, lifting them too in the process, and causing them to fall down with a satisfying bounce. Rafa felt the pre-cum staining his boxers as he looked at your build; your soft yet toned stomach, the beautiful and round well-sized boobs topped with small perky nipples. He had to touch you. He just had to. He reached out his hands, his fingers brushing against one of your hard nipples but it didn't take you long to move away from him.

You sent him a dark look, "do I have to tie your hands to this chair or are you going to behave?"

"What happens if I don't behave?" he chuckled, "are you gonna spank me?"

"No, but I will be sending you on your way home. Understand?"

The smile on Rafa's face faltered, "Okay," he gulped, "I'll be good. I swear."

"Good," you said and moved your hips against him again. He groaned at the friction and bucked his hips slightly upwards.

You crawled down from his lap and positioned yourself on the floor in front of him, eyeing the bulge in his pants. He was looking at you with quivering anticipation as you slowly pulled off his boxers, leaving him completely naked in front of you. You grabbed him at the base of his cock and inched your face closer to his crotch. But instead of moving your hand as he had expected you to, your mouth moved straight for his balls, kissing and licking them painfully sloppily, and painfully slowly. Every few seconds, you moved your thumb across the tip of his erection and slowly pulled back his foreskin, causing him to whimper and pant above you as he was writhing in the chair. He was desperate to touch you.

Slowly, you moved from his balls and kissed your way from the base of his cock to the tip of it, tasting the pre-cum that was leaking steadily out of him. "Oh, fuck," he lolled his head back against the head rest, looking down at you while you were licking his head.

Your tongue moved in swirls around him, your lips closing around him every once in a while while you slowly sucked him off. He was moaning and panting above you, his hands desperate to touch you, but he had learned his lesson. He would keep his fingers to himself.

You moved your lips further down his shaft, pulling him all the way down your throat before you moved your lips up again, releasing him with a small pop.

"Holy shit," he groaned above you as you repeated your motions, your tongue sloppy against him while you pulled him down your throat over and over. "I'm so close," he moaned above you, his eyes finally closed as he enjoyed your movements in front of him. His chest was heaving up and down with small shallow breaths as he enjoyed the sensation you were causing him. With one last lick along his length, you released him completely, causing him to whip his head around, "no!" he said desperately, his cock twitching in front of him.

"Get on your knees in front of me," you demanded as you climbed down from him.

Immediately, he got up from the chair and fell to his knees on the floor in front of you. He gave you a soft kiss on your stomach before he looked up at you with patient eyes.

"Pull off my panties."

"How am I supposed to do that when I'm not allowed to use my hands?" he chuckled.

"Do I look like a care?" you raised an eyebrow at him.

He sent you a throaty laugh and inched his face closer and closer to the laces between your legs, kissing your thighs softly before he used his teeth to forcefully pull down the piece of garment. With his teeth alone, he brought down your panties to your ankles. You tangled your fingers in his hair as you stepped out of them, sending him a look full of lust

Rafa looked up at the marvellous wonder before him and enjoyed how you were finally completely naked before him. He pulled his face close to you and let his tongue taste your folds before you stepped away from him.

"Am I really going to have to send you home?"

"No," he whimpered as he looked up at you with huge eyes, his hands in a praying motion in front of his chest, "sorry. I couldn't help myself. I wanted to do something for you."

You levelled your face with his and grabbed his jaw tight, "tonight is not about what you want," you whispered, "If you disobey my orders one more time this is over. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he gulped, "I understand."

"Good," you released his face, "now get on the bed."

He sat down against the headrest, his long legs sprawled across the mattress. Slowly, you climbed on top of him and rocked your hips back and forth to feel him against your sensitive nerves. You reached down and kissed him sloppily while you slowly ran your fingers along the length of his erection. When he let out an involuntary moan against your mouth, you let go of him and turned around, your legs still straddling him. You reached behind your back, grabbed him by the base and guided his cock inside you while a small moan escaped your lips. He filled filled you up completely and you had been craving this too.

"Oh, fuck," he whispered behind you as you began moving your hips back and forth. He was moving his hips in time with yours, meeting you half-way as he watched himself repeatedly disappear into your wet tightess. "Your ass looks amazing," he groaned and took a look at the beautiful shape before him, "can I please touch it?"

"No," you panted and looked over your shoulder, taking in Rafa's tortured face behind you.

He seemed to enjoy this position, so you stayed in it for a while until you found that it was time to switch it up. You pulled away from him, and climbed on top of him again so you could ride him face to face. He quickly slid inside you again with a small moan escaping both of you. You were bouncing on top of him, and you could tell that he was desperate to touch you, his hands twitching involuntarily in front of him while his gaze was fixated on your bouncing tits.

"Okay, you've had your fun now," he finally growled and pulled his wrists to his mouth, untying the knot on the silk ribbon with his teeth in only a matter of seconds. He tossed the ribbon aside, his hands immediately flying to your hips, flipping you around on the mattress below you. He pushed himself inside you with force and gathered your hair in a pony tail, which he tugged on slightly as he moaned behind you. He was fucking you just the way he knew you liked it; rough and unapologetic.

He tugged your head backwards by tightening the grip he had on your pony tail, and listened to your sweet whimper but slowed down his movements when realised that he had taken so much control of the situation that he had ruined your fantasy of bossing him around. His fingers found your hard nipples and he rolled them between his thumb and index finger, "tell me what you want me to do," he whispered against your ear and pressed his lips to your neck as he slowly slid out of you.

"I want you to fuck me hard," you moaned breaking character completely and arching your back exaggeratively so your hips tipped to his advantage.

"Turn around then," he said darkly.

You turned around on your back.

"Put this under your hips," Rafa said as he handed you a pillow.

You did as he asked of you and waited for him to continue. He grabbed your legs and let you wrap them over his shoulders. He put his hands on your calves and pushed them slightly back toward your head, sliding inside you with a desperate sound as the position allowed for the deepest form of penetration he had ever experienced before. He bottomed out completely, and you moaned loudly as he hit a sweet spot deep inside you. You felt how he pulled himself back a little before he slid inside you again with force.

His right hand went straight to your throat where he tightened his grip playfully. The feeling of him deep inside you toppled with his fingers wrapped around your throat sent you over the edge with a series of loud moans as he moved in and out of you faster and faster. He felt you grow tight around him and even though it was a wonderful sensation, he remembered that he wasn't wearing a condom. So he quickly pulled himself out of you with a hard pant and finished himself off by the movements of his own hand, his cum landing on your chest and stomach as he made a desperate sound.

"Oh fuck," he groaned as he opened his eyes and admired your naked body in front of him. He leaned over you and kissed his way up your throat to your lips. "I'm sorry," he groaned against your soft lips, "I'm sorry I didn't just let you live out your fantasy. I'm sorry I took control."

"You let me live it out perfectly" you whispered against him, "I loved it."

"Does that mean that you don't see any reason to live it out again?" he asked you. It was a loaded question and you understood.

"Actually, I might have a few ideas for next time," you groaned and felt his smile grow wide on his lips.

"Can't wait," he growled against your lips.

#rafael casal imagine #rafael casal #rafael casal x reader #blindspotting #bay boys #daveed diggs #rafael casal fanfiction #smut

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nelllraiser · 3 years

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hell’s true north | adam & nell

TIMING: current. LOCATION: hellscape number ??. PARTIES: @walker-journal & @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: adam follows his compass home. CONTAINS: sibling death (brief references to the bea plot), mass poisoning (from inhospitable domain), parental death mentions.

Vines with the texture of withered leather fingers writhed under Adam’s feet as he stumbled out of a brackish puddle of ichor. Disaster response boots that’d been designed to weather fire, acid, and radiation had eventually yielded before the onslaught of otherworldly environs. Now the ragged soles barely clung to his feet, wrapped tight with bloody strips of bloody demon hide. The most cutting edge kevlar, environment-resistant tactical gear, breathing apparatuses, and deadly military firearms had been gradually ravaged into uselessness by universes full of chemicals and alternative laws of physics that Earthly science had never imagined. As the tactics, preparation, and martial science Adam had once relied on was stripped away in the nonstop battles with demonic flora and fauna, the title of Hunter had become brutally literal.

Adam spelunked through caverns that formed from the innards of sleeping elder things, scaled cliff sides made of solidified light and shadow, jumped across archipelagos of bone islands floating in stormy skies, climbed up trees the size of skyscrapers whose fruits were embryonic sacks in which monsters gestated, hiked across the savannahs with rolling plains of scalpel-sharp obsidian grass, and tightroped across worlds that were just spider webs of tentacles stretched across abyssal gyres.

Adam was now a ragged figure where a dauntless soldier had once been, the shreds of his tactical uniform stitched together with leather and pieces of chitin. Once the olympics-ready peak of health, the footballer’s veins were stained with dark lines across his skin and he stumbled across the landscape of grasping roots and tide pools of black blood. His breathing was shallow treks through world after world had wracked the Hunter’s body with alien toxins that even the mutant’s regeneration was failing to fight off. Adam’s vision was blurred with the edges and everything muscle in his battered body begged to just lay down in darkness.

But the compass in Adam’s hand pointed the way across the hellscape of fire, floating islands of tentacled flesh, and geometric monoliths to old gods that's already sunk into dreaming torpor long before humankind had discovered fire. Adam fought back agony and followed the compass needles across the poisoned land.

Everything had blurred together by now. Nell couldn’t even clearly remember how she’d gotten to this realm, just that she’d fallen through far too many holes in the ground, off cliff sides, or out of sky-hanging oceans to even begin to remember what world this was. The red skies she’d originally arrived under were long gone, barely a memory after all the worlds that had followed, and all the attacks she'd scrambled to come out of in one piece. Though perhaps calling herself one piece was being generous when she’d resorted to packing the missing chunks of her flesh with whatever she could find that didn’t instantly sting and burn at her open wounds. She didn’t know how long it had been since she’d slept, time still immeasurable in places like these— just that she hadn’t done it since the baykok’s attack. The lack of sleep meant she hadn’t been able to replenish a single shining grain of her magic after she’d been quite literally drained and fed from, her body having nothing but sheer determination to keep her wavering feet from falling out beneath her.

Something was the very definition of fundamentally wrong with this world in terms of survivability. Nell could feel it in the way each breath felt sharper than the last, and the ugly coughs that had her spitting up black specks on the palms of her hands. None of the places she’d seen could have been described as friendly, but this one felt like it was digging her foot deeper into the grave with every second she stayed. She needed to find a way out if she wanted to make it another hour. Nell was far past the point of finding a way back to White Crest, ready to settle for a hellscape that wasn’t killing the witch with every inhale of her lungs, and go from there if she could manage to last that long. How long had she lasted already? How much longer could she last? She’d always been a fighter, refusing to go down without taking at least a part of her attacker with her. But how could she carve out a piece of a world? How was she meant to rage against an entire realm? Maybe sometimes there was simply nothing to fight against, the hand of Fate snuffing out her life whether she liked it or not.

And yet she kept walking, limping along as the injury on her leg oozed with some otherworldly infection that promised to kill her if this air didn’t. There was no direction, no plan, just the foolish hope that she’d stumble into a place where she could properly breathe. She walked until she could barely make out a figure on the horizon, squinting her eyes against the bright green and dingy brown of this place while she wondered if this would be the final creature to kill her. But the figure grew closer, and despite her best judgement an uncontrollable wave of hope flooded her chest. “Adam?” she dared to utter, even though she knew it was far too good to be true. Nell and the hellscape had done this before in the form of a tikbalang sending her astray with the perfect illusion of her hunter. “We’re doing this again?” she asked the air in a tone that was resigned to the disappointment of finding another falsehood, the high instantly giving way to a low. “What is it? Another tikbalang?” But this Adam was different. He looked sickly, and past the point of battered— like he’d already knocked on death’s door only for death to tell him to come back in ten or so minutes. They’d call him when they were ready. Why would an illusion-caster show her this?

Hallucinations had become ever more common as toxic environs and constant otherworldly stimuli wore down Adam’s nervous system.

Sometimes it was dad, gently reminding him of past lessons as Adam fought his way through nightmarish creatures and tried to find his way through landscapes only possible in other realities. Other times it was James or Terry, come to chat idly about football and girls as Adam trekked across wastelands whose sloping yet flat contours didn’t obey the rules of time and space. Dave gruffly reminded him about knots and the perils of marine warfare as Adam journeyed through rivers that flowed up into the sky and seas of sentint poison. Regan gave pointers on splinting a broken arm with a demon’s bones all while primly reminding him she wasn’t that kind of doctor. Orion nervously recounted facts about obscure demon types as Adam ducked claws and spines while trying to find a weak point. Ariana punched Adam in the arm and reminded him to buck up and put on a tough grin when everything was just pain. Athena gave advice on slowing the poison’s spread through his body with her mixture of tenderness and steel. Kaden brusquely correctly Adam on his stances as the younger Hunter’s limbs trembled with neurological damage, before reminding him to stay alive. Mina kept him vigilant, pointing out dangerous movements and sounds even when every fiber of Adam’s body wanted to sink into oblivion. Morgan spoke gently to him when the horror became too much, her hand on his shaking shoulders when the mental strain of glimpsing elder things sent Adam into seizuring convulsions. Dani reminded him of duty and their ancestral oaths with a concerned smile when ancient deceivers whispered in Adam’s brain, offering easy miracles in his moments of weakness. Luce yelled at him to get the fuck back up and fight when Adam could barely stand and death’s release drew close. Beatrice demanded that Adam remember who he’d come her for, when poisoned dreams threatened to swallow reality entirely.

So this was not the first time Adam’d met Nell and had to hold back tears when stabbing yet another shapeshifter to death or felt crushing emptiness when it turned out he’d only embraced only empty air.

Adam looked down at the compass needle, pointing unerringly forward.

“Hey Nell,” Adam rasped through cracked lips, taking a green stone with a hole through its center from a cord around his neck. He held out the Adder Stone in one hand, gory knife clutched in the other. “When’d you give this to me?”

Nell looked to the Adder Stone held in Adam’s hand, her solemn resignation to the illusion disrupted by the flickering of uncertainty in her eyes. The compass was a new addition as well, though she recognized the daffodil bloom she’d carefully laid into the face of it, the magic and flowers they’d made together under a full moon. “But I didn’t- I was gonna give you that after the date,” she mumbled, already chiding herself for how easily a couple of emotional trinkets could sway her mind towards what the demon world wanted her to see. But the compass wasn’t what he was asking about. The Adder Stone. Of course she remembered when she’d given it to him- the first of many things she’d gifted in an attempt to keep him safe.

“After Bea- after we...brought her back.” Nell had masqueraded the gift as a thanks for Adam’s help in bringing her sister back from the ether, but the truth had gone deeper than that. “I said it was for helping protect my family. But I just- the carachs had just given you those visions, and the somnivore thing wasn’t that far off.” It’d been nearly a year ago that she’d delivered the stone, nearly five months after their first meeting at the Ring, and by then she’d already gotten soft for him. “You were hurting and- I didn’t want you to hurt.” Taking the Adder Stone between her fingers, she swallowed hard as she held it before her face, already dreading the moment he’d disappear before her eyes. The motion sent her into a brief coughing fit, the heaves long and loud as her lungs desperately tried to dispel the poison in her system. At the end of it she finally raised the stone’s center to her eye, knowing this vision and her willingness to linger with even a false Adam had already shaved precious moments off the stopwatch that was ticking down the seconds until the poison got the best of her. “Let’s just- let’s get this over with.” It was silly, and she shouldn’t have said it knowing he was nothing more than an exhaustion or demon induced delusion. But she couldn’t help herself as the next words whispered from her lips, trying to find a moment of peace in a land that had never known it. “I miss you. I’ll miss you.”

Finally Nell looked through the stone’s center, still surprised at how solid it felt in her hands, wondering if that was another lie to be chalked up to feeling dead on her feet. Except Adam didn’t fade from view, didn’t disappear into nothingness as she locked her gaze onto his familiar and brown eyes. She gasped, still hardly believing it but reaching out nonetheless, letting the Adder Stone thump unceremoniously against his chest while its cord slackened and her hand found a gentle resting place alongside his cheek. Warmth. Perhaps a little too warm, as if he were running a fever. But there was the unmistakable feeling of life beneath her fingertips, and she didn’t hesitate a moment longer to close the space between them, slipping her other hand into his. Her knees grew even more unsteady, either from shock, barely having the energy to hold herself upright, or both— and for a moment she rested a little more weight against him than she probably should have considering his state. But it was impossible for her not to sink into the first safe place she’d found since the onychorror had snatched her. She’d finally found a place where she was safe in the hellhole. A place where she’d always been safe to crumble, to relieve her walls of their nearly ever-present duties. A place where she knew it was safe to fall because he’d never once stumbled when it came to catching her. “How- How did you- you’re real? Please- either this is a really good mindfuck or-” Or Tate had made good on his deal, and managed to get her hastily doctored sigil back to White Crest. Was it possible something had actually gone right? Had gone so right as to bring the man she loved to her side?

Adam let the knife fall from his hand onto the writhing ground and put his arms around Nell. There was a moment of tenseness, of resigned expectation. But she didn’t turn to mist, slip right through him, or boil up into some hungry thing. Tidal waves of relief and shock at something too impossibly good to be true collided in Adam’s chest. Nell was solid, real. Just a moment Adam couldn’t feel the heat of the burning sky or the poisons of alien worlds killing him cell by cell.

“I’m real,” Adam assured holding her tight with what strength was left in him. “I’m really here.” He entwined the fingers of their free hands. “I don’t want any other life except one with you in it,” the Hunter confessed, wasting precious water as the tears slid down his bloody and battered face.

“So uh...here I am.”

Nell could feel her own tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, an avalanche of relief washing over her near-ravaged spirit, almost still waiting for this moment to break in a way that left her spinning. But the moment never came, and Adam was breathtakingly solid within her arms. For a long breath she savored the peace he brought, like a salve over an open wound. She wanted to bury herself against him, to hide from the world around them and pretend like it didn’t exist, but the fear that he’d disappear if she so much as looked away from his gaze was too great, afraid to even blink lest the break in their eye contact be the blip of time needed for him to dissipate from under her hands.

She could feel her pulse gain a few extra beats while Adam made his declaration, heart in her throat while she ran his words on repeat through her mind. It was wrong. So wrong that such beautiful words should have to be uttered in a world as ugly as this one, spoken between the gasping breaths of a dying pair. Nell had always known that loving Adam wouldn’t be easy between his constant brushes with death, and the conditioning that often made him feel the need to put humanity’s welfare before anything else in his life. She’d done it nevertheless, having made peace with the fact that maybe he wouldn’t ever wholly be her’s, a part of him always belonging only to his mission. The pieces of him she’d been given had been more than enough. But that didn’t mean his admission didn’t tug at her heart, didn’t make it soar in a way that made a fluttering bloom in chest that had nothing to do with the poisonous air slowly killing her.

“Here you are,” Nell finally managed to repeat in wonder. Hadn’t he been the one trying to convince her to leave him behind should the demon apocalypse commence? He'd told her that she was a part of humanity’s hope for survival, that she should abandon him for the sake of the world. It was his own words that made her know the gravity of him choosing to come for her, to potentially sacrifice one of humanity’s hopes in the form of himself by searching for her in the endless worlds. And that was enough to keep her voice steady and sincere while she spoke. “I don’t want a life without you either.”

Part of Nell wanted to be upset with him, to scold him for being so foolish with his own life by following her into the portal, but she couldn’t manage to speak the words through the temporary moment of solace they’d found in the middle of hell— unwilling to break it. Unfortunately there was something else that needed to be said that would do just as good a job at shattering their moment of quiet. Something she couldn’t ignore. “There’s...something else I need to tell you.” Let her hold onto this shining feeling for just a few more seconds before she brought them back to reality.

Adam had grown up with the knowledge that his life wasn’t his own. It belonged to humanity’s destiny, a merciless idol that generations upon generations of his family had been sacrificed to appease. The abnegation of the self had been soothing in a way, it’d made him brave in a way. It doesn’t hurt to suffer and risk your life again and again if it isn’t truly yours to lose. He tried to never deceive the women in his life. Nobody deserved to be given only part of someone to love.

Mom and dad had loved each other intensely, and Adam had seen the aftermath after the needs of humanity had demanded yet another sacrifice. At the time he’d thought he’d learned a lesson from Esther Walker’s sorrow, and was determined to never hurt someone the way his father had.

But after three years of complete radio silence, Adam had spoken with mom and learned too late that he'd gotten it all wrong. As he’d grown, so had she, and neither mother or son were the same broken people that’d parted at Gehena 19.

Penelope was a person he shouldn’t have loved. She practiced demonology, the very art that’d fucked up the world in the first place. She’d participated in human trafficking and slavery. She’d performed ritual human sacrifice. She’d hunted down bounties without any concern for morality or a higher cause. She aided and abetted supernatural criminals simply because of her personal feelings. When these actions reaped consequences, Nell responded with personal wrath and revenge rather than seeking resolution, splintering tragedy into ever more fractals of repercussion.

Basically, by every standard he’d been raised to believe in, Penelope Vural was evil, and if she hadn’t been born human Adam would’ve been obligated to kill her.

But that’s not what happened. At first it’d just been that she was a useful ally. Next it'd just been typical horndog Adam, thinking with the head in his trousers rather than one on his shoulders again. Physical attraction and wary partnership had explained things for only so long however. She was brave, self-sacrificing, vivacious, and free to act according to passion and her free will in a way Adam had never dared to be. Eventually Adam was sharing things with her that he’d never dreamed of telling anyone else.

He wasn’t supposed to care about someone like Nell, to give her so much of what belonged to the mission. Adam could only love someone also sworn to fight the same war, no one else could understand the sacrifices necessary and what’d inevitably come sooner rather than later. Adam had been introduced to Huntresses his age with the unspoken understanding that eventually he’d find someone to fight alongside and raise children with to pass the sacred charge onto the next generation.

Adam had drank, partied, and screwed his way into forgetting for a while. Until suddenly, he ended up loving the wrong person, someone who wanted Adam for just himself, war be damned.

It wasn’t the right thing.

But what if he just….did y’know?

What he just loved Nell like she deserved without holding back, fight for his own humanity for a change?

Adam just wished he'd had the courage to take that plunge earlier.

Adam looked parted the embrace slightly so that he could meet her gaze “What is it Nell?”

Nell hadn’t planned to fall for Adam Walker, hadn’t even entirely noticed how close she’d let him get until she’d felt like she was on the edge of losing him, delivering the news that August Thompson had died a death far from peaceful— that Adam’s hand had been directly involved in the spellcaster’s demise. Of course she’d known he was one of the people she’d trusted most, one of the only people she’d ever let see her stripped to the core while he’d held her after Bea’s death. It was why she’d asked him to help in the first place. But she hadn’t realized just how much there was to lose until she was standing on the precipice. She’d been convinced that it would be the end, that she’d managed to ruin something before even really letting it begin, and that he wouldn't come back. It turned out she didn't need to worry about him coming back, because he’d never left in the first place. And he kept not leaving, something that had been rare in the life of a witch who had an overzealous temper and a reckless streak a mile wide.

So when he’d done things others might condemn or draw the line at— killed a werewolf in cold blood, admitted his own bloodlust beneath a full moon, gone on a murder spree fueled by the same moon, considered a demon pact, left her on read in the middle of feeling as if she were about to lose him...there’d been no choice of whether or not she’d grant him the same loyalty, to stay with him just as he’d stayed with her. She’d just wanted him to come home. And he always had. Even now, after fighting his way through literal hell, he’d come home.

Selfishly putting off her bad news for one moment longer, she let months of feeling the sun on her face when he smiled fill her soul, holding onto that feeling as she tried to find the words for what she wanted to say. What needed to be said if they didn’t make it out of this hellscape, and what she should have said much sooner despite being scared. She’d been worried about what he might say in reply, always thinking of that part of himself that she knew he felt he couldn’t give, not sure if she wanted to hear the ‘I’m sorry, but’ that she might get in response. But the man who’d dived into hell for her deserved to hear it, and she wasn’t scared anymore. “You know I love you, right?” He didn’t need to say it back, she’d finally realized that while he’d been walking towards her, knowing loving words could never speak as loudly as his actions had. “I just wanted you to know,” she assured him, letting him know she didn’t need to hear it in return. It wouldn’t change anything.

Now for the less charming of her news. “Not to...instantly bring the mood down but...the other thing I needed to tell you…” Nell glanced over her shoulder, as if the soul-snatching creature would be there even now as she divulged news of it. “There’s a...slaugh. I think it’s been following me.” Adam would know what it meant, that such creatures only went after those who were generally mere hours from dying, waiting to devour their souls. Nell had glimpsed it as she kept rubbing elbows with death in the hellscape, the being momentarily coming into focus while she’d barely escaped a demon encounter with her life still intact. The creatures were nearly as good at predicting death as banshees were.

Adam followed her gaze towards the burning horizon where plasma storms corrustated in lightning rainbows over living plains of crawling flesh. Slaugh were vultures of the spirit world. As a kid he’d been terrified of the invisible presences that set off his Hunter senses whenever there was a clash between militia forces around the Levant. It’d felt like a blizzard of dark wings, choking him with claustrophobia on empty arid plains covered in bodies shredded by shrapnel.

Mom had assured her son he wasn’t crazy. He could just feel the demons glutted humanity’s senseless wars against itself.

Adam‘s mind went back to Regan’s prophecy and felt an iron dread settle in his stomach, adding bittersweetness to the joy and relief coursing through his enervated body.

Adam let the future go and drew Nell close against him again, just letting this moment exist for as long as hell allowed. “We’ll figure it out when we get back to Earth ,” he murmured.

The tension in Nell’s shoulders melted as Adam pulled her back, savoring their togetherness for as long as she could, feeling true hope for the first time since...she wasn’t actually certain how long it had been, not even knowing how many days she’d been stuck in these hell-worlds. She drew a long breath while she was pressed against him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze to assure herself that he was still here- still real even though it seemed impossible that he was. When they got back to Earth. It seemed like a far off hope, like shooting for the moon without any of that bullshit optimism of landing among the stars. “Then you can tell me the plan when we find a place that’s not suffocating us.” He wouldn’t have come without one, right? It was one thing to condemn himself to death, and she wouldn’t be entirely surprised given his generally self-sacrificing nature, whether that had been taught, was natural, or a combination of the two. But it was another entirely to forfeit the life of her as well by diving in without an extraction plan. He wouldn’t have risked the person he was saving.

The slaugh was worrisome enough as an omen of death, but there’d been more to consider when it’s eating of souls was brought into play. Nell still wasn’t all that sure whether she’d want to be raised from the dead in the first place should she perish in the next twenty-four hours, but if the slaugh ate her soul...she wouldn’t have a choice to begin with. You couldn’t raise a body without a soul.

Again Nell fell silent while she drank in as much as this as she could, the dread in her stomach a constant reminder of how far there still was to go. But with Adam- at least she stood a chance. With Adam they could at least sleep, taking varied watches. And then maybe some of her magic would come back and Adam could heal, and then...well then they’d at least have a fighting chance together, always stronger together. Nell used her fragile strength to bring herself to the tips of her toes, trying to press a gentle kiss to his black-veined cheek before feathering across his lips. “We’ll figure it out when we get back to Earth,” she echoed, recognizing it as another promise they could hold between them. They’d go back to Earth together in the same way they’d fought the dolorphage, the way they’d faced an unknown future beneath the full moon all those months ago, and the same way they’d taken on a demon cult and lived to tell the tale— always together.

#// DON'T LOOK AT ME IM EMOTIONAL #as alwAYS tapir just gives me a GIFT of a chatzy #wickedswriting #chatzy #ch:adam #hell's true north #sibling death tw #mass poisoning tw #parental death tw

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ssa-daddyhotchner · 3 years

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Undercover - Chapter 5

Chapter Selection

It was so hot, I was begging for it. His lips grazing mine I lunged forward and captured his lips.

My tongue sliding into his mouth. He kissed back only to pull away when I was about to get out from his grasp.

He brought me up making me straddle his lap. His budge wanting to be released. My core was directly over him; I was practically dripping. I made slow movements not wanting him to notice.

I slowly grinded onto him making him groan; he opened his eyes and flipped me over. He was hovering over me while holding my hands above my head.

"Stay here", he got up walked over to his bag and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

Latching my hands onto the headboard. His fingers went into the waistband on my underwear and he pulled them down with his teeth, taking his time.

He came back up and peppered kisses along my jaw an down my neck to my breasts. He put his mouth around my nipple, flicking his tongue over it.

I arched my back and hissed through my teeth, "Fuck." His hand making its way down to my pussy.

Teasing me his finger ghosted over my center; He run his finger up my slit. I moaned his name loudly, his hand going straight over my mouth.

"Baby if you want me to keep going you need to be quiet, can you do that for me."

"Yes, sir." Returning to his movements, slipping on finger into me. "Baby you're so wet."

I buck my hips and pleaded for him to keep going. He massaged my walls finding my g-spot and going continuously over it.

His kisses moving down my stomach till I felt his breath directly over my core. I hummed, "Baby please."

His tongue was on my clit but he didn't move it. I bucked my hips to urge him and he took it. Crying out, "Aaron please take the cuffs off, I wanna touch you."

Aaron looked up at me and agreed taking off the cuffs, "You have to ask permission to touch me." With that he returned to what he was doing.

His fingers pumping in and out when my stomach started to tighten.

My orgasm coming closer and closer as went down on me. "Aaron I-", I couldn't speak but he knew I was close. Just as I was about to cum his stopped.

"Why'd you stop", I wined. He looked up at me; his eyes were dark with lust and something else.

"I'm not done with you yet." He mumbled

"Get on your knees." He ordered and I was quick to obey. Getting on my knees I untied his pajamas pulling them down and throwing them across the room; then I removed his boxers.

His cock was twitching with just my breath on it. "Open", he ordered again. He shoved his cock in my mouth. Grabbing my hair to make the movements himself.

I was just something to get him off but I wasn't mad at it. The taste of his pre cum spread throughout my mouth urging me to do the work myself.

I grabbed his dick and pumped what I couldn't fit. He looked down at me and I met his gaze as I took all of him.

I relaxed my throat taking it; I gaged around him making him pulse in my mouth. He was close and right when he was about to cum I stopped and got up and faced him.

"If I can't cum then you can't either." He didn't like that answer. Leaning in closer, "You want me fuck you already."

I didn't answer I jumped onto him. My legs wrapping around him; my hand guiding his cock into my pussy with ease.

His hands ran up and down my back making small stratches as he slammed into me, but he stopped.

"I want you to see yourself." He walked us over to the mirror and I saw how flushed I looked. I got off of him and he pinned me to the desk in front of the mirror, "I want you to watch."

He slammed back into me, my hands not supporting my weight; I hit the cold desk sending a shock through my body. His dick hitting all the right places at a new angle.

I watched when he threw his head back, hands gripping my hips leaving bruises behind. He mumbled a number of curses and moans. I watched as my eyes dilated and sweat started to form on my face.

I rested my head on the desk trying to bring myself back up; when wrapped his hand in my hair making me look up. His rugged breath felt like fire on my skin when he knelt down lining kisses on my back; still thrusting into me

My edge started to build again when I clenched around him; letting out a loud moan. His hand went underneath me rubbing circles on my swollen clit.

"Cum for me little girl", his words pushing me further; my orgasm coursing through my body, feeling it from top to bottom.

He didn't stop and I went limp. The overstimulation becoming too much. "Please I can-", he slowed down. "Come on little girl one more, you can do it", he used a soft but aggressive voice. He sped up return to his pace.

My legs were shaking while the rest of my body was twitching. I clenched around him to make him finish faster.

The thrusts becoming sloppy when I felt him pulse inside me and release. A second wave running through.

Aaron rested his head on my back as he praised me. "Good girl", he pulled out and we both winced. "Baby...can you help me", I asked Aaron and he laughed. "Are you okay", he asked as we walked to the bathroom. He put me on the toilet and I peed.

I hummed while he cleaned me up; grabbing a rag and wiping between my legs. He helped me to the bed, "You still need my help?" I said no even though I didn't mean it.

I had what felt like jolts of electricity moving through my legs every step I took.

I just laid down; he was next to me, his head on mine whispering sweet nothings into my ear. His breath on my neck was relaxing.

I could've stayed there forever.

I was Curled up in his arms. His fingers running up and down my arm writing his name. Closing my eyes I smiled at his words. I nipped at his chest, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight princess."

Team POV

Morgan- Morgan was awoken by the sounds of screaming. He jolted up and looked around, the sound coming from the room down the halls. "Aa-", was yelled from the room. He laughed to himself knowing that it wasn't anything serious just a couple being a little too loud.

What he didn't know was that his boss was fucking his coworker into oblivion. He went back to sleep trying to block out the sound of the happy couple.

JJ and Emily- They were interrupted with the same yelling. They were doing there own thing; trying to block out the sounds they continued but it wasn't a use. JJ sighed and moved off of Emily. "Em let's just go to bed."

Emily wasn't excited about it but agreed, "Fine but if I find out who those people are i's fucking punching them.

JJ giggled and laid down with Emily by her side an dithery went to sleep.

Rossi- Dave was woken up with he phone ringing. He rolled over and answered, "Rossi."

The person on the other line had tears running down their face, they sounded like they'd been crying for hours. "Ros- Rossi."

Rossi sat up, "Reid what is it." Reid couldn't form words, his voice kept breaking up. "I was seeing my mom an- she uh she passed before I got to say goodbye."

Rossi didn't know what to say to comfort him, "Oh my god. I'm so sorry."

"I tried to call Hotch to tell him I was gonna take a longer leave but he didn't answer. Can you tell him for me." Spencer ended the call leaving Rossi in a state of shock and sadness.

____________________

Y/n POV

I was woken when the smell of pancakes filled my nose. I opened my eyes and Aaron was sitting at the table.

Trying to make my way over to him, I take one step and I stumble. He heard and he turned around jogging over to me.

"Baby are you okay." He kneeled down holding onto my upper arm helping me stand.

"Yeah, lets just say you defiantly did some damage last night." We both laughed at the comment and he helped me to the table. He gave me a box, when I opened it there were peanut butter pancakes; my favorite.

"Thank you." He gave me a smile an we ate.

When we were done we started taking a shower getting ready for work.

One of our phones were going off; it was Aarons. After finishing he called the number back.

"Aaron, Spencer called me last night. He told me he was gonna be gone longer than expected, his mom passed away last night."

I watched as Aarons face dropped I mouthed, "What is it." He held up his finger telling me to wait a sec.

He hung up the phone then spoke. "Reids mom passed, he's gonna be gone longer then we thought." I felt my heart ache for him.

He defiantly didn't need the added stress. Especially with his relapse. "We can't do anything for him until we get back."

I walked into my room closing the door behind me; when I was about to leave the hotel room. I met with Morgan about to knock. "Hey"

"Hey yourself mama, do you know if Hotch is still in his room." I walked down the hallway.

"Yeah his is. I think he's almost done. I'll meet you guys at the station." With that I left Morgan, he was knocking on Hotchs door.

I decided to get everyone some coffee. when I got to the station everyone was already there. I handed the drinks out.

"Okay so lets say this unsub is protecting the child. He has to know what goes on at home and if they are even being abused", JJ says.

I continue, "So it they have to work at a school or hospital." Everyone agreed with me and Aaron gave me a quick glace and smile.

Emily starts, "A school consoler, but wouldn't they be required by the school to report abuse or suspected abuse." Emily was right the only thing that made sense was a doctor a nurse.

Someone that didn't need to report anything because all they saw were broken bone and they don't ask many questions.

Morgan calls Garcia, "Hey sweetness, did any of the victims go to the same hospital?"

She speed types, "Hey back at you and two went to the same one but the other 3 went to separate hospitals." Hotch picks it up, "Were there any doctors or nurses that did multiple rotations at different hospitals."

"Yes sir there are 10 names all working at the hospitals were the victims were treated."

"Remove the names that aren't parents." Hotch gets up from his seat. "There are.....three."

"Did they treat the victims children?", I ask. "No but they were all working around the same time they arrived there. You don't have to ask I already sent the names and addresses to your phones."

"Thanks baby girl." Morgan hangs up the phone. "Ok Emily and Rossi you take Jason. Morgan and JJ you go to Smiths. Y/n and I will to go Graces, let's go." Hotch nods and we all head out for the SUVs going to the addresses.

_________________

Hotch and I are in the SUV driving over to Graces. When we arrive, there are cops waiting for us. We don't know if she was in there or not, the cops haven't reported any movement.

Hotch stops the car stepping out with his vest on. I put mine on in the car before we approach the door.

With the police behind us, Hotch is in front, "FBI". He kicks the door in, holy shit that was hot; I think to myself. I go in after he does.

I got my gun out and aim it up right; I snap around the corner to see and empty living room. "Clear!", I yell and I hear Hotch and the other cops saying the same thing.

I pulled out my phone and called Morgan, "You guys have anything?" I wasn't even sure if it was any of these people. I had my doubts; I figured another body would drop before we could get close to catching them.

Its cases like these that make me feel like it's too easy, that something bad was going to happen.

Morgan responded, "I patched Rossi and Emily, she's here; in the house. Hotch she has a hostage."

"We're on our way." I looked at him as we walk back to the car. "Hotch I didn't think this unsub was even willing to take a hostage."

He got into the drivers seat. "Maybe she feels that she's still doing the child a favor, in the end she 'saved' the kid from their mom."

I nodded and looked at the road ahead of us.

It took about 10mins to get to the Smith house. Cop cars and officers were surrounding the area. Morgan standing outside making some communication on a phone.

The snipers didn't have a clear shot. Someone was going to have to go in.

I turned to Hotch. "I'm going in." He didn't even look at me. I pulled him aside. "Hotch I can do this. You go in through the front and face her establish a trust. I can enter through the back door....and If I have a shot and there doesn't seem to be a way out...then I'll take it."

I could practically see the gears turning in his head. He didn't wanna put me in harms way but at the end of the day I was able to take care of myself, and he knew that.

"Okay." He took off his gun and holster handing it to Morgan as he walked to the front door.

Morgan calling the unsub before hand to let her know we were coming inside to 'help'.

I hear Hotch enter opening and closing the door behind him. I sneak in through an open window in the bathroom slowly making my way down the hallway. I hear Hotch talking to the unsub.

"Smith we can help the child ok", he has his hands by his sides. The unsub pointing the gun to him with the Mom his her arms holding her by her neck in a choke hold.

"Mothers aren't supposed to hurt their babies....she needs to pay." The unsub says in anger and sadness. she clearly had been a victim of abuse herself.

Hotch reassures her, "She will pay...ok, we'll take her she'll go to prison and loose custody." His voice becoming uneasy.

She raises the gun to the hostages head. "That's not good enough." There were tears steaming down her face.

I come put from behind the corner; turning into the room. My voice is calm, "Put it down, we'll take her you can watch her go to prison. Why kill her? Then she wouldn't be a to live with knowing she hurt her child. If you kill her, her suffering will end and she doesn't live with the consequences."

The unsub moves the gun pointing it down, I withdraw my weapon putting it into my holster. "You promise she will" I reassure her.

"I promise", I look her in her eye and she pushes the Mom towards Hotch. He grabs her and runs out the house send in the cops while I unarm her.

On the jet Rossi and Hotch told Morgan, JJ, and Emily about Reid and his situation; that they need to be careful around him, he was fragile.

When they ended the conversation we still and a good five hours till we got home. Everyone was asleep except me.

I look around and see Hotch in the corner of the jet on the couch. The team was huddled up in front.

I walked over to him; his head was leaning up against the wall. He was in an upright position so I shook him awake.

He opened his eyes a bit and he said in a soft voice, "What is it baby."

"I'm tired, their sleeping so I figured." He smirked and moved his leg so I could lay in between. My head against his chest, his head on mine.

My arms curled up against his body. His hands wrapping around me holding me close to him.

________________

@marie1115 @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @appleblossoms-posts @mac99martin

#aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner #reader x aaron+hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron #hotch x y/n #hotchner x reader #hotch smut #hotch #criminal minds #fanfic #writing #reader insert

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somedayonbroadway · 4 years

Note

I wanna read one of your scenes with Race as Jacks son!!! Any of them will do!! I just love that idea so much!!

Some more!

Part 1

Part 2

The apartment was dark. It was a small studio. The heater was broken. The floor was filthy. The shower didn’t have hot water and all Jack had in the means of furniture was one mattress that was laying without a frame flat on the ground. Jack was on top of it, letting Tyler lay on his chest, cooing and grasping at his shirt without a care in the world. Jack sighed, thumbing up and down his baby’s back, watching him as he squirmed around on top of him.

If Jack were to be honest with himself, he was terrified. He had no idea how he was going to make ends meet. He had one job waiting tables at a diner that was right around the corner from the high school he’d dropped out of. He had to find another. He’d never be able to keep this place if he didn’t.

He was an adult now. He was responsible for an entirely new human being. He had to get himself together.

Tyler rolled up on his chest smiling at him, laughing at absolutely nothing. All Jack could do was smile too. “What’s got you all giggly, baby?” Jack asked, sitting up to cradle the child in his arms, holding him so that the baby’s chest was flat against his own and those big blue eyes looked up at him. Jack couldn’t help but be jealous that his baby looked more like Amelia than him, but those big blue eyes made him go weak in the knees every time.

There was a knock on the door. Jack flinched, making the newborn in his arms whimper, on the verge of tears. Jack was learning quickly that any little thing could set the child off. So he stood, hushing the tiny baby in his arms as he slowly stood, letting the boy lay his little head down on his shoulder as Jack stood to get to the door.

“So your best friend is the last one to know that your baby was born, you dropped out of school and that you got married?”

It should’ve been no surprise to Jack that a tall brunette would show up at his door at some point, but he couldn’t help but smile when he saw him. “Hey, Davey...” he greeted softly.

Davey shook his head. “No no! Don’t ‘Hey, Davey’ me!” It was clear the other boy wasn’t angry with him, more just upset that he hadn’t been a part of anything that had happened after the past couple of weeks. “Are ya gonna let me in, or what?”

Jack chuckled a little bit, but opened the door wider for his friend, shifting Tyler into his right arm as he clasped Davey on the shoulder before shutting the door behind him. “Sorry, there’s nowhere for you ta sit...” he sighed, embarrassed by the fact that this was now where he lived. “I... um... I didn’t know—“

“What’s his name?” Davey asked, getting straight to the point. His eyes wandered down to the child in Jack’s arms. The one who was still so surprisingly calm.

Looking back down at his baby, Jack smiled. “Uh... Tyler... Tyler James,” he said. Davey smiled, moving closer to him, a grin melting onto his face at the sight of the child. “You wanna hold him?” David nodded slowly, almost hesitant to say yes. Jack couldn’t blame him. He carefully maneuvered Tyler from his arms into his best friend’s. “Careful of his head,” he instructed softly, laying the boy down carefully. The baby whined the moment he left his father’s embrace.

But David could only melt at the new weight in his arms. He rocked the boy in his arms, letting out a small laugh. “Hi there, Tyler James...” he whispered, attempting to calm the child and he fussed and looked around. “It’s okay, kiddo...”

“Yeah, baby... that’s just your uncle Davey... he’s gonna protect you. You’re okay.” Jack grinned when Davey’s eyes shot up at what he’d just been called. “He’s been my best friend since we were six n’ he owes me for savin’ his butt all the time, so he’s gonna look out for you... always...” Jack promised.

Tyler calmed in Davey’s arms as Davey shook his head. “He’s beautiful, Jackie...”

Jack nodded. “Yeah... yeah he is...” he agreed, taking his baby back into his arms. He smiled at the boy before looking back up at his friend. “He’s perfect...”

Davey moved back until his back hit the wall. “So... I thought The Spider wasn’t gonna let you—“

“After I married Amelia, he didn’t have a say...” Jack stated proudly. But doubt fluttered through his mind as he caught sight of his empty apartment again. “Um... I forged his signature. Amelia was fine with it, just as long as she doesn’t have ta raise him. So her mama signed the paper for her. N’ now we’re legally married which means I have rights n’ Snyder doesn’t.”

David nodded, looking around. “Alright... I have about three thousand dollars saved up. Let’s go shopping.”

It wasn’t a question in the least, but it definitely took Jack by surprise. He shook his head, bouncing Tyler in his arms, getting the boy to giggle a little bit. “I appreciate it, Dave, but I don’t need anythin’—“

“Um, I’m an uncle now. Let me spoil the kid a little, alright?” Davey knew that Jack wanted to argue with him. But the sad truth was, Davey grew up with good parents in a good part of town where he got twenty to fifty bucks twice a month. Jack grew up with nothing but bruises and a window to crawl out of when things got tough.

Letting out a breath, Jack looked down at the precious thing in his arms. Tyler smiled back up at him. So the boy swallowed hard and nodded. “Uh... yeah, okay... just gimme a second.” He walked back over towards the mattress and pulled out a small bag. It used to be his school bag. A satchel that hung at his hip. Inside there was a yellow pacifier and a baby harness. It was black. Jack easily slung it over his shoulder and settled his child down in it, giving him the pacifier and slinging the bag over his shoulder.

It was like he’d been at this for months. “Where’d ya get that?”

“Oh, one of the nurses that helped deliver Tyler gave it ta me... I told her I’d pay her for ‘em, but she wouldn’t take anything,” Jack shrugged. “I ran into her after I left Snyder’s n’... she’s real nice... name’s Miss Medda Larkin.”

David nodded. “She sounds amazing,” he offered, teaching for the door as Jack walked back over to him. “Ready?”

“I guess so,” was all the answer Jack could give him. “Let’s do this…”

#newsies #newsies live #newsies musical #newsies au #modern au #modern era #baby race #teenage dad #dad jack #much love #jack kelly #racetrack higgins #david jacobs #medda larkin #theworldisyaerster1 #angst

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zacc-attacc · 3 years

Text

Kissing In The Snow: A Javid Fic

This fic is lowkey shit and I might literally post a new one to apologize for this, but have it anyway!

Final Word Count: 3.2k

Triggers: There’s a bit of an anxiety attack, and a reference to self-harm. I put an * before the attack and bolded the self-harm reference so you stay safe! Love you nerds!

The plan was originally to drive through the night. After all, it was a long-term trip, and we both had a pretty uncanny ability to stay awake. Since we had two drivers, we could switch roles every now and again. But we only made it until a few hours after dark.

I knew there would be snow. After all, especially around New York, there was always snow during late December. But that… That was the type of storm that we hadn’t seen in years. The only time I think I had ever seen that much snow was when my family had traveled to Canada and they were hit with a snow storm. It was magical as a kid in a warm, safe cabin. But now, as an adult, driving on a dark road with the life of my best friend in my hands, it was downright terrifying.

Jack wasn’t fully asleep when I started to consider pulling over. After all, it was only around 10 PM, meaning he was in the dozing part of the night. It was just dark enough that he couldn’t sketch in his physical notebook, and he had put in his earbuds to try and drift off. He had offered to drive, since he was sure I was sleepy from waking up at 5 AM to pack, but I assured him that I was wide awake. And I really was. Slamming three Bang Energy drinks in the span of two hours would do that to a guy.

Snowflakes had started to fall about an hour ago. They were small ones, barely making a dent in our view. But the longer I drove, the bigger they got. Bigger, thicker, and falling faster. I knew that if I was outside, I would be soaked within three seconds.

The wind howled, not for the first time, whistling around the car and nudging it slightly across the icy road in an attempt to push us off. I could feel my anxiety rising as I frantically tried to keep the car on the road while staying calm, but something must have tipped Jack off, because he sat up from where he was curled by the window, stared at the weather, and looked at me with shock on his face.

“Jesus, Dave, it’s crazy out there!”

I felt my hands that I hadn’t even realized were clenching the wheel loosen at the sound of his voice. Despite the fact that I had just been talking on and off with him for seven hours, his voice still had a strange habit of making the world seem less terrible. Especially when paired with his eyes, wide, hazel-y green, and worried.

“Yeah,” I said, hearing that my voice was significantly higher than it usually was.

“Should we… Pull over? Find somewhere to stay for the night? We can’t sleep in the car, you’ll freeze-”

“I’ll freeze? Last I checked I’m not the only one who can contract hypothermia,” I cut him off, smiling internally at the ‘Mama bird’ side that was revealing itself (a side that normally only showed in dire situations or when one of their friends were injured).

“Yeah, but you’re a string bean. Nothing to you,” Jack pointed out. This was true, but only when compared to him. As the linebacker for Northwestern University’s football team, he had enough muscle on him to pass for a professional bodybuilder. It was funny that he was a football player while also majoring in art, while compared to the other players with their business and accounting majors. I knew he secretly hated the team, but he was playing football for the scholarship to put him through school, so it was either play or starve. Obviously, he chose to play.

I tried to take a left turn, starting to slope softly almost 50 feet away in order to be able to make the turn. It was still almost too much for the car, causing me to need to break completely to avoid hitting a sign that read Joanna’s Nightly Cabins and Bunks, 10 mi.

I felt my entire body tighten as I tried to steer without adding any additional momentum to our car careening across the ice. The tires were locked in place, and still sliding like the world’s most dangerous hockey puck. Jack had stopped talking, and was holding his breath right along with me as we continued to slide. Once we finally stopped, I put my head down on the steering wheel and tried not to cry from a simultaneous feeling of adrenaline and relief.

*********

I was shaking, harder than I had in a long time. I felt Jack’s strong, warm hand on my back, an anchor. He knew how my attacks worked, since he had seen me through middle and high school. They happened a lot less now, but that didn’t make them any better when they did hit, like a freight train of emotion and a loss of control. Where my lungs decided to say “I can’t do this anymore,” and stopped wanting to work. Where my face felt like it was set on fire, and my eyes were watering and I tired to keep everything under control but it all felt so hard and my thoughts were rushing and my heart was pounding in my ears and-

“It’s okay, Davey,” his low voice muttered.

Davey.

That damn nickname. The one only he had ever called me.

He was leaning over the gear stick now to hug me, pinning my arms to my side (I had… Old habits) He was rocking, his hand on my heart as he counted the beats with me, whispering into my ear.

“Five, six, seven, eight…”

**********

Once we got to sixty, I had calmed down a bit. I could breathe now, at least, and I had stopped crying.

“I think I’ll drive us the rest of the way. Is that okay, Dave?” Jack murmured. He was still holding onto me tightly, as if I could break at any moment.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice sounding worn like it always did after an attack.

The moment I felt him pull away, I missed him. After all, he really was quite warm, and there was a winter storm outside. At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself.

I opened the car door, and heard Jack do the same behind me. The road was icy, icier than we should have been driving on. Then again, I guess that was kind of the whole reason we were dipping out rather than driving through the night.

As we were walking, I could feel my Timberlands beginning to lose the battle between gravity and friction. I looked up in an attempt to keep my balance, and saw Jack begin to topple. I instinctively reached out my arm to catch him, and we both spun in some strange, ice dance to keep our balance. Finally, Jack slapped the hood of the car to tether us both, hard enough that the alarm started to beep, shattering the night with its high tones.

Jack looked at me, and down at my arm, which I just noticed had somehow snaked around his waist in the struggle. I dropped it quickly, feeling my face heat up despite the snow, smiling awkwardly. Jack just patted my shoulder, and began to chuckle. A soft, not full-blown laugh at the situation. I found myself laughing right along with him.

His laughter had always been contagious.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“This is delux,” Jack grinned, unrolling his travel blanket onto the singular bunk bed. Joanna’s Nightly Cabins and Bunks turned out to be a dingy collection of cabins owned by an old woman looking to make a buck and offer hospitality to travelers.

“I’m glad you pulled over, you’ll catch your death in that type of storm,” Joanna said from the doorway, making sure we had enough blankets and brain cells to survive the night. The cabin was small, with a few bunks lining the walls. There was a hot plate on top of a little fridge, but the electricity had been kicked out from the storm, meaning those were both rendered useless. There was an oak door leading to what I guessed was a bathroom, and a light rattling sounding above us for what I assumed was the heating.

“Thank you for having us for free, ma’am,” Jack said for the eight billionth time that night. Joanna just tossed her head back in a light laugh.

“A sweet couple like you, and three days before Christmas no less? It’s no problem, really. I’m all for holiday cheer. Have a good night, you two,” Joanna said, turning and winking behind her shoulder as she walked away. I made eye contact with Jack, and noticed that he was blushing just as much as I was. We waited a few minutes to make sure Joanna was completely gone to continue unpacking.

“How many times has that happened now?” I asked, hanging Jack’s scarf over a vent so it could dry overnight.

“What?” Jack said, turning from making his bunk to look at me, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“We had a list of all the times… People thought we were dating. Back in high school, remember?” I smiled slightly at the memory, thinking back to all the time we used to spend with each other in high school.

No one was surprised when we went to the same college, since we had spent so much of high school half joint at the hip. Even our mutual friends were convinced we were secretly dating. It happened enough times that one day, Jack whipped out a notebook and wrote down all the times we could think of being asked. We just kept adding, until college happened and… I honestly don’t know what happened to the notebook.

“Oh, yeah, that! I think Medda tossed it out on accident… But we have our memories, right?” Jack said, regret flashing in his eyes. I just smiled at him sadly.

“Yeah. So, what time should we get going in the morning?”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It was probably midnight when I heard a loud, metallic bang.

I sat up sharply, scrambling out of the sheets to make sure that Jack hadn’t hit his head and died from the top bunk.

“Dave, you okay?” Jack asked, glancing at me from his mattress.

“Did you hear that?” I questioned, gesturing to the ceiling where I had heard the bang.

“What?”

“Some sort of bang… I think the heater went out,” I said, suddenly realizing I couldn’t hear the rattle of the heating anymore.

“...Shit. Should we get Joanna?” Jack asked. There was a beat of silence as we made eye contact, and it dawned on me that neither of us wanted to wake up this poor old woman to tell her.

This is the height of being gen z. I thought, realizing how screwed we were.

“It… It’ll probably be fine,” I stammered, sitting back on my bunk. The air was already getting colder, and the wind howled against the cabin.

“...Get over here. You ain’t getting hypothermia on my watch,” Jack said, rolling his eyes and gesturing to himself. I felt my face heat up for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night.

“A- are you sure that you’re-”

“Oh, can it Jacobs. I don’t need your sister sicced on me because I didn’t do what I could to make sure you survived the night,” Jack pointed out, sounding mildly annoyed. I would’ve been more convinced if I didn’t see that he was also blushing, and had that look… That weird look he got when he was looking at a pretty girl or guy.

This is totally platonic. I reminded myself, climbing the ladder while holding my blankets. Jack nodded at me, tossing all of our blankets over the two of us.

I didn’t think I would be able to sleep with him right there, but something about his body heat and the crashing energy drinks was enough to lull me to sleep…

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Davey, you still sleeping?” Jack whispered. My eyes snapped open, and the events of the previous night hit me like a truck. I turned to look at Jack, who was still laying down beside me.

“Yeah,” I croaked. Jack nodded, and I felt him draw away from me.

Wait, away?

It was only then that I realized how close we are.

And that my head had been practically laying on his chest.

“Sorry,” I muttered, shifting away from him.

“It’s okay. Warmth, y’know,” Jack said gruffly, sitting up. I scooched away from him and climbed down the ladder, the cold air piercing my skin.

“We should get going soon… I’m sure Medda is ready to have my head for having you out on a night like that,” I pointed out, dashing to the assorted vents that had our assorted winter wear, half-dried.

“She could never, Dave, you know she prefers you,” Jack grinned, rolling his eyes.

“Well, she adopted you,” I pointed out. “She must’ve liked you enough to want you in her life forever.”

“She once threatened to take away my dessert privileges if we ever stopped talking,” Jack said, deadpan.

“Those brownies are no joke. I’m glad you were able to put up with me,” I chuckled.

“I don’t put up with you, Jacobs,” Jack said, self-deprecation seeping into his words. I stopped re-packing, and crossed the room to talk to him, being sure to drive my point home.

“Neither of us put up with one another, kay?”

“I- damn, Dave, makin’ us have a moment here,” Jack said, red creeping up his face. I stepped back, apologizing under my breath.

“No, no, it’s fine. You always had more of an emotional range then I did,” Jack shrugged, regret tainting his words.

A few minutes later, we were packed. Jack and I both had our jackets, scarves, mittens and hats on.

“I got it,” I said, grabbing the doorknob and pushing.

It didn’t budge. Not even a centimeter. I shook the door, throwing my weight onto it to the best of my ability.

“Let me try,” Jack said, grabbing my hand around the knob. I felt a sharp shock, and felt my heart kick into overdrive, pounding in my ears.

His hands were soft.

Jack was still struggling with the door, jiggling it aggressively.

“Its just a bit… Frozen,” Jack grunted, slamming the door with all of his linebacker strength. The door flew open, a few healthily sized pieces of ice spaying onto the fine bed of snow.

Jack had opened a door to a winter wonderland. Due to its remote location, Joanna’s Nightly Cabins and Bunks was peak stock photo winter.

The trees were frosted with white, like they were some sort of cake, or one of Jack’s drawings. There was a big, sprawling field with a few snow dusted cabins. The main house Joanna lived in was mostly cleared (we assumed she had cleared it herself… somehow), but by far the most shocking part was-

“Oh shit, my car,” Jack said, attempting to run across the lawn to the snow-covered lump that was his vehicle. This didn’t work well, since there was almost several feet of snow covering the ground. He had only made it about 10 feet when he collapsed into the drift, his legs having been unable to fight the snow.

I found myself half-laughing, despite being mildly worried as I helped him up.

“We are so screwed, Davey,” Jack said, his brow furrowing as his Manhattan twang set into his words. That’s how I knew he was really worried- his accent only set in when he was drunk, sick, angry, or stressed.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll call a plow, or a tow… We’ll find some way out of here,” I assured him, holding him by the waist so he wouldn’t fall. He leaned into me, obviously not against me touching him. Well, really it was his coat, but it still felt nice.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” Jack asked. I could feel my phone vibrating in my coat pocket, probably the boys and our families asking where we are.

“I dunno… I might as well call now,” I shrugged, pulling out my phone and tapping on Google to find the number.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“Thank you… Goodbye,” I said, just about to hang up when a powdery, cold something hit my back. I swiveled around to see none other than Jack, a small arsenal of snowballs beside him.

“Oh, you did not just-”

“I did, Jacobs,” he grinned maniacally. I narrowed my eyes at him.

“You’re on!” I shouted, frantically grabbing snow and packing it into a solid ball. The snow was perfect for snowball fights, just the right texture. And I was wearing gloves, so it wouldn’t stick to any yarn on my mittens.

Jack pelted me with a snowball, hitting my shoulder with a solid thwack! I pretended to fall from the shock of the hit, then rolled towards him, tossing a ball at his neck. It hit him slightly above his collar bone, and I heard him laugh evilly as he ran towards me.

“YOU’VE MADE A MISTAKE FROM CHALLENGING ME, DAVEY JACOBS!” He yelled, attempting to grab me. I rolled away, standing above him with my superior five inches, and began to dodge snowballs, left and right while making my own.

“JOKES ON YOU, I LEARNED FROM THE MASTER-- SARAH JACOBS!” I screeched, hitting him in the head with a snowball.

“BUT I WENT AGAINST THE GREAT RACETRACK HIGGINS!” he objected, hitting my left arm.

“WHO LEARNED FROM SARAH JACOBS!” I shot back, hitting his lower thigh.

“AH, BUT YOU ARE NOT HER!” he pointed out, dashing away again in an attempt to confuse me.

“YES, BUT I AM HER BROTHER!” I said, dodging a ball from my right.

“THE MORE WATERED-DOWN VERSION, I SEE!” he shouted, attempting to dodge a ball coming for his torso and failing.

“OHO, YOU ARE GOING TO PAY FOR THAT!” I yelled, smiling like a fool and running towards him to the best of my ability. He grinned darkly, and I realized my mistake.

I was attempting to tackle a college football player. First string.

Before I could even comprehend how terrible of an idea it was to try and tackle a football player as an English major with limited athletics experience, I was on the ground and-

His lips were on mine.

Too passionately to be accidental.

His hand had somehow made its way to my back, and he was holding me like he had in the night. And… It felt right. More real and right and perfect then I thought it would.

I grabbed his face so I could feel him closer. Though I think a part of me knew it would never feel close enough.

He was doing this thing, I think to keep us warm, where he was rubbing up and down my back to keep the heat. And he kept letting me pull him closer while we just laid there, kissing in the snow.

Kissing in the snow. A romantic concept, one that lovesick teens would only dream of doing. Kissing two days before Christmas. Kissing like it wasn’t the end of the world, like we had all the time in the world. Kissing my best friend. Kissing the man who knew how to get me back when I was drifting.

Kissing in the snow. Because sometimes, snow and too much time wasted away from each other was enough to make a teenage dream come true.

And maybe I was okay with a winter teenage dream.

I was okay with kissing in the snow.

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derenger · 3 years

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Growing up, parenting and gaming - Longread on life, computer games and finding yourself

This longread is dedicated to and written for all those current and former kids, who had or have troubles growing up, taking decisions, finding themselves in the world they live in, who play games independently of age and – perhaps �� have not lost their love for a good game, good times and good buddies.

Perhaps it will help someone in their life. If that happens – I shall think of this writing as useful and my time writing it as not completely wasted.

The ideas have been on my mind for over 2 years now (they started getting very clear when I started doing therapy) and I have to put them on paper now.

Here it goes.

I grew up in the 90s in Eastern Europe. After the USSR collapsed millions of people found themselves without work, perspectives and means of existence. We were lucky that my dad had a good job that was paid in hard currency, however he was barely home – and by that I mean like seeing him 2 or 3 times a month.

We had good living conditions compared to others and my mom did the best she could too take care of my younger bro and me.

The first time we were exposed to computer games was when I was like 7 and my bro was 5 – in the office where the boyfriend of our aunt has been working. We played Dangerous Dave, Scorched Earth, Socoban, Digger, Civilization, The Incredible Machine and some others I do not recall the names. And of course, we liked it and it did not take long for our dad to install them on his PC at home. 2 years later my best buddy got Doom 2 installed on his PC and that was the absolute blast. We spent weeks trying to figure out how to get through level 2 and it was a big holiday when our buddy finally did.

My dad tried to restrict TV and computer time per week, so we always opted for the PC. Over time I learned to turn it on by myself and play when there was no one at home. My dad did not know.

A couple of our friends had 8bit consoles - soviet bootlegs of Super Nintendoes, with TMNT and Chip n Dale, but that was probably it. After all, we were living in a small village with not that many possibilities to make money.

When I was 10 we moved to a bigger city into a 1 room apartment. All 4 of us. This was 1996. 2 other very important things:

We started going to a far bigger school than before, where the mood was totally different from what we were used to. We were bullied and beaten, could not get along with other pupils and teachers and no one actually cared.

Father was home every day.

I mean, father was present home every day. It is not like he spent time with us doing sports or whatever. He just had any idea what to do with us as this was his first long time exposure to kids in the 11 years we were a family.

He was more of an authoritarian guy – we were not supposed to waste time in gaming clubs, listen to stupid music (Prodigy, Beastie Boys), we should have studied well, read books, have been doing sports and in general act like good kids.

We were doing some martial arts sports cause mom brought us there. We were taking music classes cause “everyone has to”. We were supposed to help out at home. We were not supposed to hang out with “bad” kid or stay outside till late hours. We were not supposed to smoke, swear and simulate illness to miss classes. We were not supposed to get into trouble.

It is not like we were putting a lot of thought into it. We just moved to the city from rural area and frankly speaking were absolutely not happy about. I guess we just went with the flow.

This was also the time when the first “gaming spot” in town opened – they had 2 Sega Mega Drives II and 1 Sony PlayStation. MK3, MK3 Ultimate, Contra Hard Cops, Golden Axe, some samurai fighting games for the Sega. SPS – Red Alert, Twisted Metal, Duke Nukem, Doom and of course – an incredible breakthrough for its time – Quake 2. And that was a revelation. I recall mom giving us money from time to time. To go play. Sega cost like 1 buck and hour, SPS – 1,5 bucks – far more expensive, so we played mainly on Sega.

At the same time we did have some games at home – Doom, Power Formula 1, Lines, the same Civilization, Lion King, Alladin, Indiana Jones and the Fate of Atlantis, Gods and Dune 2000. Dad did not want to allow us play games. Like, at all. Don’t ask me why he never deleted the games. The PC was mainly used for him to work. So when he left home, he took the power cable of the monitor and closed it in his spare suitcase. What we did was to unplug the cable from the printer and use for the monitor. Later on he hid both cables – from the monitor and the PC in the suitcase. I found a way to open the suitcase with a very fine flat screwdriver. Mom hid the fact from our dad for a while until he noticed the suitcase was “broken”. I believe they did not speak with each other for a week. But I am still proud of the fact of cracking that suitcase! Fuck yeah!

Things started getting worse when I transferred to a lyceum - 1998. I was 12. This was like a gymnasium for hardcore science-kids, where they went deep into math and natural sciences. I was hysterical the first 2 years as I was barely making the program. Even my dad had troubles solving the math they gave us. Music classes turned to shits. I had no time nor mood for sport. But I had to keep doing it all. Just because. There were a couple of bullies in class, whose parents bribed the management of the school so that their kids would have fancy graduation papers at the end and frankly speaking no one could get a grip on them. That had me very depressed.

Around 13 I started stealing money from my parents and missing classes to go to computer clubs – their number was getting bigger every week, consoles started to disappear. Half Life, CS 1.6, Age of Empires 2, Q3, D2 1.07, Black and White, SimCity 2000, NOX, StarCraft Brood War and many other games had our full attention. The biggest part of it was the fact you could play with or against your friends! That was so fucking awesome! At the same time I started discovering sci-fi and rock music, but that is a different story.

We stole a lot of money from our parents in those times and missed a lot of classes and of course after 3 or 4 months it all got revealed. Boy oh boy our dad smoked us. That was very very tough for a kid when all the things he actually liked were taken from him. Dark times when we were seriously asking ourselves what the hell our parents wanted from us as aside from the stuff they told us to do they never really told us what was it for. Everything else was useless, stupid or waste of time.

Somehow my marks at school got better closer to graduation and I graduated almost with a medal, went to university. I remember they had this PC club with like 200 PCs and from time to time we skipped one or the other lecture to play Starcraft or CS, but very quickly boozing with buddies became the major leisure activity and pushed gaming to the back. I did pretty well at the university, made my master with excellence and that was it – 6 years flew by in a blink of an eye.

I got my own PC during the first year at the uni, played a bit of Warcraft 3, HOMM 3, Quake 3, Lineage II but it was not like I was deep into that. I remember after defending my master I spent like 3 days playing Crysis without anyone saying a word. I mean, I was through with the university. I was free!

Soon after that I went on to work abroad as a project engineer in the chemical industry.

At the moment I am doing sales engineer for a good salary in Berlin, I am married and except for the Corona and all the restrictions it brought life seems ok.

During the last 10 years of my “adult” life I have been in many different situations. I have been very sick a couple of times, running on the edge of life and death. I have been in some useless relations that only drained energy and nerves from me. I also have been diagnosed with depression and burnout at some point, did therapy and consider myself fully recovered from both. I’ll be summarizing it all below.

When I look at my life it did occur to me that gaming was far more important than just the sheer desire to shoot buddies and skip school.

Growing up under the conditions where everything is predetermined one does not really get the chance to expose your own wish. After all, my parents both come from very unhappy families and did not have the exactly best examples of parenting.

It occurred to me that they never really cared about anything we achieved – whether in school, music or sports. I recall a couple of times when I did really good, like winning the City-contest in English language or getting my first “good” in algebra in 7th grade as that shit was extremely tough. I do not recall any reaction. In fact, mom and dad put their close attention to us only when things started getting really bad, like when we were skipping classes or got arrested for setting up fireworks in a crowded place. We never really got any positive feedback for anything we did because our parents just had no idea how to do that. I do not blame them – they were trying their best from their own experience.

And gaming was the absolute opposite to all of that.

Going to computer clubs we knew exactly that we were surrounded by like-minded lads. We made some good friends along the way – lads, who were always ready to jam on de_dust or bring their D2 chars to share some loot. One of the owners of the club had a daughter who was really good in Q3 – I remember everyone has been looking at her like she was some sort of demigod. The games gave us the space and playground we needed so much – clear even rules for everyone. If you frag – you win. If you don’t – you lose. If you suck – the older guys would always help with a couple of tips. Games also gave us control. I really liked the games where you went on an adventure, like NOX or Will Rock or serious Sam. Gaming also gave us the space to take our own decisions and suffer the full consequences if these were wrong – getting overrun by zerglings or getting fragged with rocket launcher with QUAD DAMAGE.

Gaming clubs were our safe space. At some point our dad did raid the computer clubs and did bust us a couple of times. Sure we got beaten on those occasions.

I recall my bro being very proud on getting 1st in the national 2v2 ladder in SC:BW later in the uni. He also used to game the whole night long at my parents place. This was over 10 years ago and they still do not know. He is still very good in SC though he does not play anymore.

I do play sometimes – currently grinding D2 and refreshing my knowledge in chess. I do not have more time for any other more or less serious game.

I am slowly approaching the point where I should write a conclusion – it is going to be quite simple. Gaming was the first opportunity to take my life into my own hands. It took me 32 years of my own life to find the power in me to take responsibility for myself and not to rely on someone else. My decision – my choice – my consequences. It took a lot of trouble and turmoil for me to get to this point and finally embracing the power within feels great. It was also the first surrounding of dudes just like me, which was a very good feeling back then.

During the last 6 months I switched to a job that pays almost the double of my previous one, my wife moved in with me from abroad, we have a nice apartment and are looking forward to vacations in the Alps. I still have to find a way to approach my parents though I am not sure the old hive is worth disturbing. I guess time will tell.

Whenever I am down or things do no go according to play – I do turn to gaming occasionally, just to get back into the world where I am in full control. It gives me power and I guess hope that everything will work out. If not now – then over time. You just have to keep practicing. And ask for help when it is needed.

I hope you found this read interesting.

#life #gaming #adulthood #friends

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dobrikburrito · 5 years

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loved ones, d.d. & v.s.

words: 2.2k

requested by anonymous

Hi!! I love your writing sm you're amazing!!! Can I get a David fic where she's so nice and and always does stuff for all of them like the dishes when she doesn't have to or buys them presents so they all work together to do something nice for her

disclaimer: wholesome fluff.

⠀

One year ago

“Alright, Zane, I think that’s enough alcohol for tonight, baby.” You supported Zane having his arm around your shoulders. “Here, have this.”

Zane made a disgusted face. “What is that?”

“It’s just water, come on, take a sip.” You told him, but immediately rejected it.

Rolling your eyes, you took the cup away and then brought him the same cup again. “Ok fine, have it your way, here’s some vodka.”

And he happily drank all the liquid, which made you laugh and facepalm. “How is it?”

“That’s some tasty drink right there,” He nodded, approving the “vodka”.

“Aw, I’m glad you liked it.” You smiled, taking a paper towel and drying his sweaty forehead. His eyes were barely open and his body was trying to dance to the music, but ended up just moving oddly. “Hey, I have a fun idea. How about we eat some of these chips? I’m feeling reeeeeeally hungry.”

You brought a small packet of regular chips and gave him some to eat, which he obeyed like the good toddler he was.

After taking care of Zane for a couple of hours, he was sobering up and wasn’t going to pass out or have a ridiculous major hangover the next day.

“Thank you for helping me with him, (Y/N).” Heath softly smiled in appreciation.

“No problem, babe. Let me know how he wakes up tomorrow. I already gave him one Advil,” You informed your friend. Heath nodded and walked Zane to the car.

10 months ago

“Psst, hey. Dave, wake up.” You poked David while he was napping rolled into his comforter on the living room couch. He whined, you rolled your eyes. “Come on, you need to take your medicine.”

David mumbled something incomprehensible, but stood up a bit and took the pill and the bottle of water from you, barely opening his eyes. After swallowing it, he nodded in appreciation. “Thank you (Y/N),” Only to fall down on the couch again, sleeping.

Just recovering from a bad case of the flu, you spent part of your days at David’s making sure he was properly taking care of himself, which he usually wasn’t, hence the sickness. You cooked him some soup while he napped and cleaned the dishes for him. Jason came along an hour later to check up on him as well.

“Hey (Y/N), how’s David doing?” Jason approached you on the glass table by the kitchen and hugged you. “Uh, that smells good.”

“He’s been sleeping a lot, but I made sure he took his medicine and is properly eating actual food and not just Chipotle.” You hugged Jason back, stopping your own video editing for a while. “And I just made some soup, you’re more than welcome to join us.”

“David’s really lucky to have a friend like you around. Sometimes he’s just so reckless I want to punch him.” Jason looked at the blob that was David on the couch. “Actually, we’re all very lucky to have you around, you’re always taking care of us.”

“You’re cute, but I’m just being a friend, that’s all. We work so much that we forget that health is actually a real thing.” I laughed, shrugging.

“I’ll go wake him up to eat your soup then.” Jason kissed your head and you got up to pick up some plates.

8 months ago

Todd had his head resting on your lap, eyes closed, feeling your fingers running through his black strands of hair. Somehow he showed up at your door at 2:45 am, completely wasted, after drinking his feelings away because of another fight with Corinna. You were caught in the middle of this tornado since the moment they started to date, always listening to both sides, trying to reason with them and advising in what they should do.

You looked to the orange and pink sky through your living room window, it was probably around 6 am now. You’ve spent all these hours listening to a drunk Todd cry about how sad he was but couldn’t ever properly express his feelings to Corinna.

This time you chose to just listen and wear off the alcohol in his system, giving him water and all the protocol for him not to wake up a bigger mess. Your eyes shut for one second, giving that you were exhausted yourself.

Todd woke up after a couple of minutes and saw you there, taking care of him for the hundredth time again, only to sigh and get up to cook you breakfast.

6 months ago

You had scheduled to meet Kristen for a Saturday brunch, missing your time together. When you arrived, she was already there, Scotty sitting by her side. Instead of being mad, you just smiled watching them together from a far and seeing how much love they had. You reached them, hugged them tight and sat down, spending the next couple of hours talking about everything in your lives.

“Oh, shit, I almost forgot,” You shook your head, quickly slapping yourself in the forehead. “Here, I bought you this!” You smiled.

It was this lovely and big Buddha crystal figure with a lotus flower on the inside. It was written Kristen all over it. The look on her face was priceless and you clapped, excited.

“(Y/N), oh my God. This is amazing! I can’t take this, this looks super expensive.” Stunned by the figure, she didn’t even look at you, just kept admiring it.

“Oh please, yes you’re taking it. I saw this while I was looking for a new clock for my apartment and it was you all over it. I couldn’t not take it!” You smiled, sweetly. “And my channel is doing good, don’t worry about it!”

“What’s the occasion?” Scotty asked with a smile on his face, also appreciating how happy Kristen was.

“Can’t a girl give her best friend a random gift out of the blue just to see her cry?” You shrugged, being a little over dramatic for the joke.

“Oh my Gaaaaaaaah.” Kristen did a fake-cry and whine just to make you laugh.

4 months ago

“Jesus fucking Christ, what is the matter with you people?” You said, breathless. “Why do people do this to themselves willingly.”

Todd and Jeff stopped to laugh at you, a few feet down the hike from them. “Come on now, it’s not that bad.” Jeff joked, waving for you to reach them.

It was the beginning of the year and as much as Todd and Jeff were friends, they were still getting to know each other. You knew both of them, knowing that Todd and Jeff had just been through terrible break ups and could use each other’s help. So you managed to sneakily schedule the first hike they ever did together, using your bad habits as an excuse.

“Don’t look at me like that (Y/N), I’m not gonna carry you again.” Todd shook his head when I gave him my puppy eyes.

“God dammit,” You rolled your eyes and did a little power run to reach them. “Just go easy on me, why don’t ya?”

We kept walking together and a couple of miles in, Todd asked Jeff “So… How have you been since you broke up with Cierra?”

“Basically shit, man.” Jeff answered and they continued to talk about every aspect of their lives.

You smiled to yourself, mentally giving you a high five for your bromance cupid skills.

2 months ago

“Ooh, who’s that guy?” You scrolled through Corinna’s Instagram DMs while she was putting on make up before you both went out. I show her the profile picture for Tfue.

“Oh, it’s this streamer guy that I told you about, he’s nice.” Corinna took one look at it and went back to her make up.

Clearly, I clicked to go to his profile and started going through his pictures and videos. “Oh, he’s cute too. He’s very much your type.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” She chuckled while putting mascara on.

“You know exactly what I mean, don’t play dumb.” I laughed. “And he’s asking you out for next weekend! Why don’t you go out with him?”

“I don’t know (Y/N). I told you I needed to take some time after the whole Todd situation,” Corinna made some excuse.

“You did tell me that and you did take time, Cor. It’s been a few months now,” You knew how lonely she felt and you wanted for her to get back out there. “You’re not instantly going to get married to this guy or whatever other guy you go out with. But I think it’d be fun for you to see some new people, change weathers. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your anxiety rising lately. I know how you tic and you need to be social and have fun to destress.”

Corinna sighed and looked at me. “I hate how you know me so well,”

You shrugged. “I’m very proud of it, to be quite honest.” I made a proud face that made her smile. “C’mon, you have nothing to lose here.”

She gave you a quick smile which was enough for you to accept as a yes. “I’d love to hang out! When are you free? And send.”

“(Y/N)! Did you just message him?” Corinna was half shocked half amused.

“What? No.” You looked like a toddler who was just caught doing something bad.

“Oh my God, give me this.” Taking the phone out of your hand, she looked for his DM. “You’re the worst!”

“I think the words you’re looking for is absolutely unbelievably amazing.” You smiled. “Besides, I have a feeling you’ll be thanking me in the future, so… I do accept thank yous as louboutin shoes by the way.”

You walked out of her bathroom, leaving her chuckling.

Today

“Alright guys, here’s the deal. I just texted (Y/N) and she’s coming to my house.” David was sitting down by the living room with a bunch of the VS behind him. “She’s always taking care of everybody, so we decided to surprise her tonight.”

“Today is her half birthday. We decided to do this today so she wouldn’t suspect anything.” Corinna explained to the camera.

“When she arrived, I’m gonna blindfold her and walk her in,” David informed the viewers. “Then she’s gonna see all of this.”

Taking the camera, David got up from the ground and showed around his house, which was filled with all of the people who loved you and cared for you. The house was completely decorated with Cabaret, with performers and playful activities, which you absolutely adored.

“She’s gonna flip the fuck out,” Jason said to David’s camera. David laughed.

“50 bucks she starts crying,” David wagered.

“I’m on it!” Jeff shook David’s hands.

Once they saw your car parking in front of David’s house, he made his way out of the door, while Jason filmed everything from a hiding spot.

“Hey, thanks for coming!” David smiled at you and hugged you.

“Yeah, no problem. What’s up?” You didn’t even realize anything. Your hair was in a messy bun and you were wearing a clickbait hoodie and sweatpants. Every time one of your friends asked for you to come because they needed help, you never hesitated. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” David laughed, then showing you a black piece of cloth. “I’m really sorry but I have to blindfold you.”

“What?! David, no!” You whined and looked around, looking for the camera. “You don’t even have a camera, what? No! No wild animals! I still have nightmares because of the roaches and the scorpions.”

David laughed. “It’s none of that I promise, don’t you trust me?”

“No.” You blatantly said and the both of you laughed. “Fine, but if it’s something gross I’m going to kick you in the balls.”

“That’s oddly specific. Okay. Come on.” David said as you turned around and he blindfolded you.

Carefully, he helped you get inside the house, positioning you in the middle of the room. All cameras and phones were on you. “Okay, on 3 you can take the blindfold off. 1… 2… 3… go!”

The second that you took it off, everybody yelled “Happy Birthday!!” and popped a bunch of confetti sticks, shooting you with silly string, sour cream and bottled cheese.

“What the fuck?!?! It’s not even my birthday, David!!” You screamed, your eyes closed because there was so much silly string on your face. Everybody just laughed out loud and Corinna came to your rescue with baby wipes to help you regain your sight.

You looked around, seeing everybody and looking at the decoration. “You guys did this all for me? It really isn’t my birthday though, so I feel bad.” You were getting emotional.

“But it is your half birthday!” Natalie popped another confetti.

You did an “O” face. “Of course, I should’ve seen this coming.” You threw one hand up in the air, defeated. “I hate all of you,” You cleaned the tears from your eyes.

“God dammit,” Jeff paid David 50 bucks.

The party went on, you cleaned yourself and said hi to all of your friends, hugging everybody, taking pictures, having drinks and enjoying the night as the center of attention.

#david dobrik #david dobrik fluff #david dobrik one shot #david dobrik fanfic #vlog squad #vlog squad imagines #vlog squad imagine #vlog squad fluff #todd smith #corinna kopf #jeff wittek #zane #heath #david dobrik imagines #david dobrik imagine #request

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youcantundothepast · 4 years

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second chances - Javid

I posted this before with spongebob gifs but I cringed whenever I saw it so I’m editing and getting rid of the gifs so here it is

Jack took a deep breath and he straightened his dark grey blazer. To say he was nervous would be an understatement. He couldn’t screw this up. He lost Davey once, he couldn’t lose him again. Anxiety coursed through his veins as his fingers instinctively went to play with the rings that had been on his finger for 3 years of his life. But they weren’t there anymore. Instead, they were safely tucked away in a box under his bed, and Jack hadn’t dared to look at them since the divorce. He remembered the night he had to take them off. There was a tan mark, but it had now faded into nonexistence as the years had passed.

Jack and Davey getting married was a mistake. They were too young, only 19, and they were just getting a taste of adult life. Jack knew they both made mistakes they deeply regretted, but it was too late. Both of them were too caught up in their work. Jack with his art, and Davey with his writing. When they were 22, they split. The marriage had just become too much for both of them to handle as they both tried to find a stable career. At least the divorce wasn’t too messy. It was nowhere near the cleanest it could’ve been, and there had been a few big fights; but it wasn’t the worst it could’ve been. It was obvious neither wanted to let the other go, but it was for the greater good. Now, they were 27 and had settled out of each other’s life.

That night would be the first time Jack had talked to Davey in 4 years. After the divorce, he couldn’t bring himself to call because Davey didn’t seem to make an attempt to call him, locking them into a non-communicative stalemate. When Davey had called out of the blue and suggested dinner, Jack had to stop himself for accepting it a second after the words left his mouth. Why would Davey ask him to dinner so suddenly? Was he coming to this dinner to rub that fact that he was happy with a new husband and a few kids in Jack’s face? The thought made Jack have to wipe a few tears from his eyes. Maybe he was too late. Or maybe Davey was just coming to reconcile and that’s all.

Thoughts of every kind plagued him all the way to the restaurant sending his mind into a frenzy.

When he actually walked into the restaurant, though, only good memories filled his thoughts. It was always his and Davey’s favorite restaurant, they went for every one of their anniversaries. It was where they proposed to each other. He couldn’t help the smile that creeped onto his face. Maybe the better wording for his thoughts would be that he couldn’t help still being on love with Davey.

“Can I help you, sir?” the host asked as Jack walked up to the podium.

“Yeah, uh has anyone come for the reservation for Jacobs-Kelly?” Jack asked, making his heart beat faster. He hadn’t heard those two last names together in forever. After the divorce, both went back to their respective last names, but he put the reservations as that because that’s what name they always put their reservations in. Even before they were married. Would Davey remember? He wasn’t sure what to expect from Davey anymore. 5 years might not have seemed that long of a time, but it seemed to trudge one slowly for Jack.

The host looked down at his monitor and looked back up to say, “no, but your table is ready now.” Jack nodded and followed the host to a table near the back of the room. It was in one of the darker parts of the restaurant, but Jack knew Davey wouldn’t mind. He waited for a few minutes, looking down at his watch every thirty seconds. He made sure to be early. The thing was, he was 13 minutes early so looking down at his watch at least 26 times soon got tiring. He sighed, realizing the only thing he could do was wait patiently.

Slowly, the minutes counted down until it was finally 7:59. He knew Davey would be there right at 8:00 because that was what Davey did. He never failed to be right on the dot. Before he knew it, his ex-husband was walking towards the table. “Hi,” Davey breathed out, as if he had been holding his breath for the last 5 years.

“H-Hi.” All they could do was look at each other and noticed everything that had changed. Jack’s hair was a little shorter and more well kept. He wasn’t as muscular as he was in his teens because he had a job that took up most of his time where he would’ve been playing baseball with his friends or running through the streets to figure out what trouble they could stir up during his teen years. He was still in shape, just didn’t have as much muscles on his arms.

Davey, on the other hand, seemed like he hadn’t changed at all. His dark hair was still well kept, and it was obvious he still picked at his nails when he was anxious. He kept his hands under the table when he sat, but Jack could tell what he was doing by the way he was also chewing the corner of his lip. It was like Jack had gone back in time and was sitting across from his still-husband. If he could, maybe he’d stop them from ever having to have this meeting. “So, uh, how have you been?”

Davey only smiled, looking down at his lap, probably realizing Jack was just as nervous as he was. “I’m actually doing pretty good. I’ve gotten a stable job at a local middle school not far from here. The kids, surprisingly, don’t make me want to cry in a corner so it’s pretty nice,” he joked making Jack smile. He couldn’t help but think about how the strangers around him probably thought the two were a couple. One thing they hadn’t ever lost over the years was the sparkle in their eyes when they were looking at the other. “You?”

“I’m doing pretty good. Albert taught me how to use a computer, and I’m a free-lance graphic designer right now. I got some good commissions going on. It’s been working itself out pretty nicely,” Jack shrugged. He had never been the best with technology, a real citizen of yesterday as some people called it, and Davey knew that from the look of surprise on his face.

“Wow. That’s really cool. My boss, the principal, is working on this new program with the school board and they’re actually looking for someone to design the logo. I could recommend you if you’re not too busy with your other work,” Davey offered. It was obvious he never lost touch of his caring, concerned side. “I hear it could pay pretty well.”

“That would actually be pretty cool. Thanks Dave.” After that, the air between them was dead. What do you say to your ex-husband whom you still love?

“I’m, uh, just wondering, did you keep the ring?” Davey asked, picking at his nails like crazy. “Both of them?”

“Of course, I did. I’d never dream of selling them or anything. Did you?” Jack wasn’t going to lie, the thought of Davey selling the true sign of their love away for a few bucks hurt more than he thought it would’ve.

“No no no. I’d never. I’m sorry if I made you think that.” Jack just sighed, feeling his heart clench. They both needed to hear those words. He reached across the table and grabbed Davey’s fidgeting hands and held them. Something he always did when he could tell his husband was stressed. The feeling of his familiar. smooth hands made him relax. They both needed this badly.

“I’m sorry, Davey. About everything. Things were said that shouldn’t of been, and I miss you. I understand if you don’t want to start up a relationship like we had once before, but I still want you to be in my life, even as just a friend. We ended on not-so-great terms, and I don’t want this to be our end. So, what do you say?”

Davey had a dazed look on his face for a second and Jack wasn’t sure what to take from it. He had known his for practically 20 years, but not once had he ever seen Davey with that expression before. After Jack’s heart stopped, waiting for a response, he smiled and squeezed Jack’s hands. “I’m sorry about what I said as well,” he said with the most beautiful smile. Jack had never been so relieved to see his beautiful smile again. “But, if it’s okay with you, I think more than friends would suffice. So, what do you say, Jack Kelly?”

Jack smiled as well, taking Jack’s other hand within his own so both of their hands were intertwined on top of the table. “I believe in second chances if you do, Dave.”

“I do.”

#Javid #javid fic #newsies

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racingtoaredlight · 4 years

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The Gibson ES-335

“Yeah this guitar is the one that I played the majority of my sessions and solo records on. The choice to get the 335 was actually a very practical choice for me. So I play a lot of different styles of music and I wanted to get a guitar that could cover a lot of bags, so I didn't always have to switch to a bebop guitar for this...blues guitar for that...this one covers most of the bags that I want to play or was called on to play.

So that's how I ended up picking the 335, and the little store I went to in 1969 to buy a 335, there were three hanging on the wall and I chose this one because it sounded the best to me, and the rest is really history, isn't it? Brand new...yeah 1969...although I ended up carrying everything but this one seemed to cover most, so I didn't have to keep pulling a new guitar out."

-Larry “Mr. 335″ Carlton

***

The “big three” of the electric guitar are the Fender Stratocaster and Telecaster, and the Gibson Les Paul. The extent to which these three models dominate just about every era is about as close to complete as possible.

The Telecaster has had an almost total lockdown on country music since the 1960′s. I’ve since deleted the posts, but in my rundown of the greatest guitarists ever, a legitimate 2/3′s main guitar was a Stratocaster. And the louder music became, the more the Les Paul came into play...the guitar which, thanks to Jimmy Page and Slash’s iconic imagery, might be the defining guitar of rock music.

Of those three, the two Fenders would be on most guitarist’s lists of most versatile...with some compromises. The Les Paul can get around ok in cleaner settings, but not like the Fenders. It’s just too thick of a sound and, combined with the humbucking pickups, overdrive amps at lower volumes. Where the Fenders are crystal clear, the Les Paul is muddy.

Enter the ES-335. Arguably the most versatile electric guitar.

***

There are variants of the ES-335 that I’m going to lump in just to make things easier. The ES-345 and ES-355 both had fancy things that the 335 didn’t...mainly a variable tone switch that was fucking stupid, and a Bigsby tailpiece that knocked you out of tune and was fucking stupid. Oh, the 355 had an ebony fretboard with block inlays...you’d know this one as BB King’s “Lucille.” They all sound about the same.

If you want a rundown of notable users of the ES-335 and its variants...Eric Clapton (above), BB King, Freddie King, Chuck Berry (and Marty McFly), Dave Grohl, Rich Robinson (Black Crowes), Otis Rush, Alex Lifeson (Rush), Chris Cornell, Roy Orbison, Alvin Lee, Larry Carlton (Steely Dan and a million other people), Duane Allman, Eric Johnson, Joe Bonnamassa. If we include Epiphone variants, we can add Gary Clark Jr. and Robben Ford to the list too. I guess the Beatles too, if we’re doing that, but fuck them.

What makes the 335 different than the Les Paul...even though many guitarists consider them relatively interchangeable (as long as you’re not playing anything high-gain)...is, obviously, that it’s hollow. Kinda.

***

“Semi-hollow” refers to the solid block of maple running down the middle of the body, which the pickups and neck are mounted to. The top, bottom and sides are made of layers of laminated maple, the two parts are pressed together, and there you have it.

A kinda solid body, kinda hollow body, hybridy type thing.

It still has a lot of that heft that a Les Paul has, and adds a sweetness the Lester sacrifices power for. And while they absolutely cover a lot of the same ground...personally, I consider them interchangeable...the biggest differentiator is if you play jazz, it’s the 335, and if you play high gain stuff, it’s the Les Paul. Solely due to the 335′s feedback issues from being hollow.

That sweetness is what makes the 335 so versatile. That heft the Les Paul brings to the table is a liability in lighter styles of music. Not light in terms of “smooth jazz” or whatever, but in terms of requiring a musician to be nimble. Genres like funk and R&B and country don’t need a guitar sound that’s huge and heavy and in your face. But the 335 has clarity, and that clarity is what makes it a more versatile instrument.

***

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So if you’re reading this and thinking that I’m setting this up as some sort of “335 is the greatest guitar” type thing, you’re not far off.

Everything that Larry Carlton said about the 335 at the very top, I said when I bought my Fender Stratocaster. The reason I went with a Strat over a 335 was a value proposition, more than a musical one...I got my Strat and a professional-quality leather gig bag for $1,500 while you’re going to spend about $3,000 on a 335 (average-condition used 335′s from undesirable Gibson eras start the pricing around $2,300). Combine that with the Fender not having Gibson’s fragility issues*, again, it was almost purely a value proposition...you can’t play a guitar if it’s in the shop.

*The Gibson headstock is angled backwards in order to ensure a proper break angle for the strings passing through the nut. While this gives every string the proper break angle, it creates an Achilles’ Heel where these beatifully crafted instruments that feel like they could go through war, can actually be rendered useless with nothing more than a fall from a couple feet.

But make no mistake, essentially from my 2nd year of music school, I knew the 335 was the guitar for me. I’ve played hundreds of 335′s and its variants. Played a ‘59 with mini-block inlays in Dallas, a ‘62 sunburst at the Dallas Guitar Show, a Memphis Custom Shop gold top in Nashville, a ‘69 ES-345 here in Cleveland...

Not to mention countless “regular” and Custom Shop models at various guitar stores through the years. The 335 is a natural landing spot for jazz guys who play rock and blues, and it was where I naturally gravitated towards. Before I bought my Strat, I had passed on opportunities to get a 335 because I knew how well they suited my style of playing, and how many opportunities I’d have down the road to pick one up.

I could say that “I miss nothing when I play my Strat” but that’s not true. I miss that heft and control you get with humbuckers, and with the 335 I get some of those Strat qualities without the Les Paul’s muddiness. It’s just...again...the Strat was half the price and I can beat it to shit without feeling bad.

***

The 335 doesn’t have the stardom of the Les Paul, which is fine.

While there are some stars who used a 335 variant, in reality, the 335 was designed for the guys behind the star. Despite it being a huge instrument in either red or super glossy black, it’s an instrument made for the background. The stars can pick and choose what they want to play, but if you’re hired to support that musician and cover a ton of bases, you want something that gives you the most bang for your buck.

Things are different today, but back in the good old days a professional backup guitarist might be asked to play jazz, country, blues, rock and maybe even disco in the same night. There are really only two guitars that can cover all of those bases and not miss a beat, the Strat and the 335.

Now, I haven’t included many sound examples on purpose.

Philosophically, I boil guitar down into two macro “tones”...clean and dirty. This is in reference to level of overdrive...you can play clean but still dirty, like funk rhythms...as well as dirty and clean, like playing precise leads with a lot of overdrive. But if we’re talking about music in the middle...i.e. not extreme metal or sterile minimalist stuff...you can break it down into clean or dirty.

Effects, processing, all that shit that goes down with pedals and modelers and simulators...all that stuff is, is a more convenient way to improve a lacking sound. The better your playing and note choice is...something only possible with hours and hours of experience...the less reliant you are on these things, and the more the equipment you do use shines.

Larry Carlton is known as “Mr. 335.” His biggest solo hit was titled “Room 335.” His home studio is known as “Room 335.” He reached the pinnacle of the session world, despite not really playing on as many sessions as his peers, because of how incredible his skills as a musician, producer and bandleader were. And he did almost all of it on a 335.

He’s the perfect guitarist to use as an example of what the 335 is capable of. These tracks have no effects, are just Carlton straight into a Fender Tweed Deluxe. The first track “Josie” is a clean example...just listen to the beginning gutiar part and then the fills during the last 45 seconds of the song...beautiful clean tone. The second is “Kid Charlemagne”...the comping during the verses has great clean tone too, but focus on the leads. Especially the closing solo during the last minute. It’s very overdriven, very saturated, but still clean where the notes are distinct.

That’s the beauty of the 335.

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