#IBW: Hello Spring 2020

[justagirlinafandomworld]

The Setup

Fandom: MCU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Still heartbroken from your last relationship, romance and relationships are far off from your radar. But your friend has taken it upon herself to set you up on a surprise blind date. God only knows where it can go from there.

Warnings: first date/blind date jitters. Firefighter!Bucky & Firefighter!Steve.

Day 2 of @itsbuckysworld​ ’s Hello Spring 2020 writing event.

Prompt: Blind Date

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: This was written and edited amidst so many distractions, I can’t even. This is going to have a part two…maybe a part three, I’m open to suggestions. Happy reading!

It was not your idea. Honestly, you did not even know it was going to happen.

You thought you were going to the drive-in with your girlfriend to catch the latest horror flick and blow off the stress of the week. You had even stashed white wine in water bottles to sneak in. But, in hindsight, you should have guessed something was up.

She had been preoccupied while parking the car and only gave single word acknowledgements as you gushed over the director and screenwriter team up while in line at the concessions stand.

But the cincher should have been when she simply purchased a pack of red vines when you ordered your large tub of popcorn. You had just stepped out of the tiny building to head back to her car when she gripped your arm tightly, her urgency startling you into spilling fluffs of popcorn.

“Don’t be mad,” She spoke in a hushed voice. “But I invited Steve.”

You balked; the spilled popcorn momentarily forgotten.

“Steve? As in four dates in two weeks, Steve?”

“As in firefighter Steve with the rocking bod, yes!”

“Why?”

“He has a friend.”

You did not know if you were panicked or furious. When you saw Steve, tall, handsome with a rocking bod (her words) approach; you leaned towards panicked. She set you up. With someone probably just as gorgeous, and you were holding a tub of lard.

She grimaced in apology at your stunned silence, before turning to beam at her new boyfriend. She disappeared in his bear hug. You clutched the tub of popcorn and wished you could disappear into the Saturday evening crowd.

When they turned to you, he was charming. He spoke kindly, introduced himself and complimented your outfit.

“Girls’ night; the one night a week I dress up, you know.” You spoke, unable to keep the bite from your tone even as you tried desperately to smile. “We’re parked a few cars over; will you be joining us?”

Steve exchanged a look with your friend, who appeared nervous still. What more could she possibly throw at you?

The thought occurred to you suddenly that she expected him to join her in her car and you would sit with his friend in whatever vehicle they brought. You locked eyes with her. She wouldn’t dare!

Steve’s eyes settled on someone behind you, his chin lifted.

“This is my friend, Bucky.”

You turned. The man was almost as tall as Steve, dark hair pulled back at the nape of his neck, thick body beneath a Henley and blue jeans. A large bowl of nachos, piled with refried beans, lettuce, tomato, cheese, and jalapeños held in his hands. One hand inconspicuously gloved.

“Bucky, this is Y/N.”

Judging by the blank stare he gave you he was as out of the loop of this plan as you were. There was that, at least.

“Excuse us,” You said before marching a couple paces away from the circle. Your friend had no choice but to follow. “What the hell?”

“What? He has a single friend; I have a single friend.” She held her hands out, raising one, then the other before clasping them together.

“Oh, come on. Right now, I’m more attracted to those nachos than the guy holding them.” Your friend rolled her eyes, so you dropped your voice. “I’m not ready.”

“Honey, it’s been six months. You are ready. You are. Come on, the movie is about to start, will you just trust me? Steve says he is a great guy. They’ve been friends for years.”

“Believe it or not, I am aware of their legendary friendship.” It was a small town, people talked. That glove covered a nasty burn Bucky had sustained after being knocked unconscious by a roof collapse. Steve had been the one to go back in and pull him out of the burning building. Rumor had it, the burns went all the way up his left arm. He almost lost it.

“Then you know you could do way worse for a first date after that shit show he-who-shall-not-be-named put you through.”

You winced. It had been six months, but the devastation of your boyfriend of four years leaving you for his yoga instructor still stung. You could not wait for the day when it would be less hurtful and more embarrassing.

“He looked just as surprised by this as I was, how do you know this is a good idea?”

“You have to trust me, and you have to trust Steve.”

“Four dates in two weeks.” You reminded her.

“Then trust only me, come on! Also, you don’t really want to third wheel it with me in my car, do you? You know what happens at drive-ins…”

“You’re evil.”

“You love me.”

“You’re lucky I do.” You grumbled while letting her drag you back to Steve and Bucky.

The two of you sat in the bed of Bucky’s pickup truck, a plaid blanket the cushion between you and cold steel. It didn’t strike you as intimate until his leg brushed yours as he leaned back to get comfortable. And once your mind went there, it was hard to think of anything else.

Bucky was good looking, a firefighter that worked on the same squad as Steve, so you knew the thickness to his body carried rippling muscle. His thighs in particular kept catching your eye.

But you were here for the movie, had been looking forward to seeing it since you first saw the trailer in January. Menial conversation was the only way to pull yourself back out. The trailers for the fall movie lineup were still playing when you turned to him.

“Is the drive-in a common date for you and Steve?”

Bucky’s brow furrowed as he chewed.

“No,” He said, clearly waiting for you to rephrase your question. When you didn’t, he sat back up and placed his nachos down between you. “Is it for you and your friend?”

“We’re here the first showing in spring and try for every weekend until the last showing in fall.” You played with the popcorn, before eventually tossing it in your mouth. You weren’t used to taking dainty scoops, one pop at a time. If it were not for the present company, you would be mindlessly shoving handfuls into your mouth, eyes glued to the screen. “How did Steve convince you to come if you didn’t know this was a setup?”

“He said this was the only place showing Blood Moon Rising, that the theater wouldn’t have it for another three weeks.”

You turned to him, disbelief on your face.

You could not tell in the dark as the trailers transitioned to one last advertisement for the concession, but you were pretty sure Bucky was blushing.

“Are you serious?”

“I had no reason not to believe him!” His pitch was high in defense.

You laughed.

He rolled his eyes before twisting at the waist to face you.

“Can we strike a truce?”

You tossed some more popcorn in your mouth and chewed thoughtfully, reveling in the eye contact.

“What’s the truce?”

“No funny business until after the movie.”

“That’s a bit presumptuous.” When Bucky tensed and opened his mouth to protest, giggled. “I’m kidding!”

Bucky leaned back again, shaking his head.

“So, you’ve got jokes,” He commented half to himself.

“This whole night feels like a big joke.” You muttered in response.

“Should I be offended?”

“No. No, no, that…has nothing to do with you.”

Between his confusion and your guilt, an awkward silence fell over you. You decided to ease up and play along. Just because this night wasn’t going the way you planned, didn’t mean it had to suck.

“We can have a truce. Though, no hand stuff is my truce. Because this drinking water,” you held up your pink water bottle, the contents sloshing with the movement. “Technically counts as funny business.”

“Someone after my own heart.” He reached back under the toolbox across the bed to pull out a cooler. Flipping the lid, he retrieved a can of beer. His fingers snapped it open before he tilted it towards you. An olive branch.

You tapped your water bottle against his can in cheers, the eye contact brief before you both took a long sip of your ice-cold drinks.

“Shh! It’s starting!” You pat his arm hurriedly and rearranged yourself to comfortably watch the large screen.

Well into the movie, with only kernels left in your tub and dried cheese on Bucky’s bowl, the two of you had your backs pressed to opposite sides of the bed.

It was a suspenseful moment. You knew the monster was about to scream its way into the scene. You reached for your wine without looking, but it spilled almost immediately across your lap.

You cursed in hushed tones, rising to your knees in hopes of keeping the damage minimal. Bucky moved, first instinct to try to help, but all the movement had the bed swaying and you lost your balance.

Your arm fell upon his shoulder, hand splaying across his back and chest near his face.

Bucky didn’t notice, busy trying to dry the mess with the blanket.

“I think I got it all,” He whispered, lifting his head to look at you. His expression froze when your eyes locked, as if realizing the proximity only then.

The scream pierced the atmosphere, others screamed in their cars. You and Bucky startled away from each other.

“Come on, let’s move to the back.” He suggested quietly.

Your heart jumped to your throat.

“What?”

“We can lean against the toolbox, that way you’re not sitting in anything wet.” He crumpled the blanket into a ball and stashed it in the corner.

“Oh, right.” You laughed nervously and you moved together deeper into the bed.

Although your shoulders did not touch, you were hyper aware of his proximity. The suspense on the screen was no longer the most exciting thing on your mind.

“They wouldn’t just ditch us.” You said as the credits continued to roll. The screen on your cell phone showed that the last five of your texts had still yet to be read.

Bucky dropped the phone from his ear and smiled wryly at you. Another call gone to voicemail.

“Wouldn’t they, though?”

You sighed, dropping your head back against the toolbox.

“We can’t trust them after this, can we?”

“Easy for you to say, I have to trust Steve. No matter how much of a punk he is.”

You shared sympathetic smiles before you both turned back to your phones.

“Is our truce still standing?” You asked. “Because I could use a ride home.”

He chuckled, his teeth showing cutely as a strand of hair fell loose from the clasp. “Yeah, I’ll get you home. Come on.” He rolled to his feet and hoisted himself over the side to land solidly on the earth.

You wondered if he was showing off but bit your lip to keep the thought to yourself.

The cab was filled with a distinct clean scent, thanks to the air fresheners clipped directly to the air vents. The stereo lit your faces green, the volume lowered so summer jams were a hum. You had insisted on using your GPS to help him locate your address, but once given, Bucky apparently already knew where to go.

You allowed yourself to sit back and enjoy the ride.

“So, what brought you to our small cove town?” At your startled expression, Bucky shrugged. “You’re using GPS, so I know you’re not from here.”

Sighing, you couldn’t help but silently curse your friend. Part of getting back into the dating game was giving parts of yourself to strangers, something you hadn’t had to worry about in years.

“My friend is from here. She invited me over for spring break one year in college and I fell in love...” You trailed off at the memory.

That was when you first met your ex. The sun had been shining and you were as intoxicated by the salty air as the mojitos from the tiki bar when he flashed you a smile so dazzling, you felt as if you were the only person in the world he cared about.

But that was a long time ago.

You shook yourself back to the present.

“What about you?”

“Born and raised.”

“Really?”

“Hard to believe?”

“No.” You said it a little too quickly. Bucky smiled but said nothing, keeping his eyes on the road. Your hands fidgeted in your lap. “I guess that explains why you and Steve are like legends around here.”

“What? You’ve heard about me?”

There was that tooth in his smile again, peeking out just over his bottom lip. It was distracting.

“Maybe. ‘Hero’ may have been thrown around in conversation.”

Bucky grimaced, rested his arm on the door and ran his hand back through his hair.

“Not a fan?” You asked.

“Not a hero.” The way he said it was different than a humble denial. There was an edge, something akin to guilt.

You sensed he didn’t want to talk about it, but the thing was, you now wanted to ease those dark thoughts that plagued him.

“You may not be a hero,” You began lightly. “But you pull people out of burning buildings. You save lives. And cats from trees. Personally, that’s my favorite.”

It was a light chuckle, one that could have been easily lost in the soft music and blast of the air vents. But it was there. Lighting up his face, bringing him back from the shadows.

It was not your idea. Honestly, you did not even know it was going to happen. But when he dropped you off on the sidewalk outside of your apartment building and asked if you would like to get dinner some time, you said yes.

[supernaturallymarvellous]

Drinking with the Devil (Day 4 of Hello Spring 2020)

Title: Drinking with the Devil

Summary: When Chloe suggests a night of drinking as a way of blowing off some stress, you never imagined that it would lead to a meeting with a man that would have such an effect on you.    

Author: @supernaturallymarvellous

Characters: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader, Chloe Decker, Ella Lopez

Word Count: 556

Warnings: None

A/N: @itsbuckysworld is hosting a new challenge - Hello Spring 2020 (check it out here). The prompt for Day 4 is “Cocktail”

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It had been a long day.  In fact, it had been an incredibly long week.  Working for the LA District Attorney was hard but ultimately rewarding.  However the past five days had been some of the hardest you’d ever dealt with in your time working in Los Angeles.  Case after case had passed over your desk – you seen people hurt in the most horrific ways, ways that you wouldn’t even wish upon your worse enemy – and you had decided that the only way to get rid of the horrendous images swirling around your head was to drown them in a vat of alcohol. When Chloe and Ella had suggested a girls night out, you had jumped at the chance.  

You had squeezed into one of the few glamorous dresses that you owned, slipped on a pair of high heels and headed towards downtown LA to meet up with your friends at a club called LUX.  Chloe has insisted that she’d be able to get you all in for free and probably get complimentary drinks too.  That was too good an offer to refuse; your job didn’t exactly pay well and your friends were rolling in the green stuff either so getting something for nothing sounded like the best offer you were going to get that night.

Or that was what you had thought right up until the point that you’d met the owner of the club, one Lucifer Morningstar.  

He’d sauntered over to where the three of you were sitting, a bottle of champagne in his hand and a smirk on his face that was almost sinful.  Without asking, he’d sat down in the booth, so close to you that you could feel his thigh pressing against yours.

“So ladies, girls night out is it?  Well don’t stop me from letting you enjoy yourself.  In fact, I would actively encourage it……indulge yourself.”

Chloe laughed his comments off before grabbing the bottle from him and pouring out drinks for you and Ella.  Lucifer however didn’t move.  He stayed right where he was and turned his attention towards you.  

“It’s Y/N, isn’t it?  Yes, Chloe has told me all about you but know I want to know something more.  Tell me Y/N….what is it you desire?  What do you want most out of this sordid little human life?”

For the next few moments, it felt as though a spell had been cast over you. You looked at the man sitting next to you, the man that you’d heard so much about – so many silly rumours – and found yourself unable to look away.  You were intoxicated by every part of his being; his voice flowed like silk, his eyes kept a constant lock with your own, his hand moved ever so slightly further up your leg.  You couldn’t help but open up and provide him with an answer.

“I want you.  I want to spend all night in your bed…….” You trailed off as those words left your mouth, shocked at your frankly lustful admission.  

He smiled before standing up and straightening his jacket.  After he’d said his goodbyes to the other women in your little group, he bent down and whispered in your ear, his voice so low that only you could here.

“I’ll be upstairs in about ten minutes if you want to fulfil that debauched desire….”

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Tagging: @ibwhellowriting   @waywardimpalawriter   @zepppie   @helvonasche @81mysteriouslyme   @caplanbuckybarnes

[captainamericasbeard]

The Gym With Bucky

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 565

Warnings: Adultish themes

Summary: Bucky proves to be a distraction in the gym. 

A/N:  This is my Day 5 entry for @ibwhellowriting ‘s 31 day Hello Spring Challenge.It’s short and rather self indulgent but length doesn’t matter and I can write whatever I want. Hope you enjoy some sweaty Bucky as much as I do. 

Prompt: “Maybe you can come to my show?”

Your feet pounded out a rhythm on the treadmill that echoed throughout the almost empty gym. Sweat beaded down your brow and your knees ached as you pushed through into your 12th mile. But you hardly noticed the milestone. You were too busy watching Bucky Barnes do squats with a barbell full of weights balanced across his arms. Up then down, up then down. You watched each muscle tighten and stretch. You shamelessly watched his ass as it tightened and released. And you let your mind wander to what you might do if you had him on top of you, all those muscles working in unison for your pleasure.

You snapped out of your reverie as the barbell hit the floor, your eyes fixating on the display in front of you. You caught Bucky glance your way as he ran a towel through is hair, a smirk playing across his lips. You’re pretty sure you’re caught but you can hardly bring yourself to care since Bucky has moved over to the ropes. He rhythmically whips them up and down and you’re done again. His arms and shoulders strain with the effort. You force yourself to look away and take a swig of your water just in time. Bucky drops the ropes and moves over to the chin up bar.

His shirt hits the floor and he jumps up to grab the bar. He’s faced away from you so you can stare all you want. His back is a bag of ropes as he quickly pumps his arms and moves his body up and down. It’s obviously costing him very little effort and you just want to be wrapped up in those arms. You don’t notice that you’ve stopped your treadmill and are just unashamedly staring at this point when Bucky’s feet hit the floor and he turns to look right at you.

“Like what you see, doll?” Bucky asks, that damn smirk on his face. You have the decency to look ashamed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, trying playing dumb, knowing it’s a lost cause.

“Maybe you can come to the show?” Bucky says, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

“What show,” you ask confused.

“The gun show,” he says as he lifts and flexes his flesh arm. You half expect him to kiss his bicep but he restrains himself. You throw your head back and laugh and Bucky’s chest swells with pride at being the source of your mirth. Even if you are laughing at him a little. He saunters over to you as you dismount the treadmill and run a towel over your face.

“Will there be a private viewing?” you ask lifting an eyebrow and putting your hand on your hip.

“Anything for you, sugar,” Bucky says moving even closer and taking your chin on his finger. He tilts your head up and plants a kiss on your cheek. Before he can move away you grab his face between your hands and pull him in for a kiss full on the lips. He’s shocked at first but then his lips mould to yours and his hands find their place on your hips drawing you closer to him. You break away and you’re both breathing heavily.

“I’m going to go shower,” you say pointedly.

“Oh, Ok,” Bucky replies.

“You’re going to join me,” you say.

“Yes. Yes, that’s what I like about you, you’re smart,” Bucky says as he follows closely after you.

[ladyofmaidensandwine]

Day Seven

Day Seven of the Hello Spring 2020 Writing Prompt Challenge

Characters- Charlie Bradbury, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Fem! Reader

Prompt- “Are we friends?” “No.”

Warnings- Drinking? Dean being illegally attractive?

Wordcount- 2,050

           You’re sitting in the bunker with Charlie for your rare movie night. Things haven’t been settled enough for the two of you to really see each other, between the last world-ending event, your normal hunts, and Charlie’s responsibilities as Queen of a LARP Kingdom. Ahead of you waits a movie marathon- you would bet money Charlie picked Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings series- girl talk, and movie snacks, and even better, a night off from ganking monsters or stitching yourself and the boys up. 

               Sam and Dean had even left the bunker for the night, going to have some “brotherly bonding”, which you suspected was a cover for probably getting themselves arrested, absolutely piss-drunk, or both. “Alright, up for some Harry Potter?” Charlie exclaims, already sliding the disc into the large telly Dean had hooked up to what he and Sam called the “Dean-cave” (you refused to call it that). “Obviously. While we watch, you can finish telling me all about this girl you met.” You tease, wiggling your brows playfully at your red-headed best friend. Charlie laughs and agrees, and you grab the popcorn and change into your pyjamas.

               You were both laughing so hard your stomach ached over the story of your latest hunt- on which Dean had tripped right into the grave you’d dug, and the lid of a coffin had closed, trapping him with a skeleton- when the bunker doors open, familiar footsteps clunking down the stairs. “Y/N? Charlie?” Dean calls, peering into the room. “Hey, Dean. What are you doing back so early?” You ask, turning to face him questioningly. “Stealing my popcorn, apparently!” Charlie gasps, looking affronted as Dean reaches over to steal a handful of her popcorn. You laugh, and Dean winks, quickly munching on the popcorn with an exaggerated thumbs-up. “Friends share, Charlie.” He states seriously. “Are we friends?” Charlie asks, and now it’s Dean’s turn to act offended. “No. Apparently, Y/N is the only nice one here.” Dean huffs, green eyes narrowing at Charlie as he crosses his arms over his chest. You snicker and shove the tall hunter’s shoulder playfully. “Who says I’m nice?” You quip, raising a brow. “Unbelievable. You two are- are ganging up on me!” Dean shouts, throwing his hands in the air, and directing a glare at you and Charlie, while you only gave an innocent smile. “Payback for interrupting girl’s night. Now get out, Winchester, unless you want to hear all about my date from last week!” You smirk, Dean’s ears going red as he mumbles inaudibly and whirls around. “I am gone!” He calls from over his shoulder.

            You and Charlie laugh at Dean’s expense before you turn back to watch the movie, except her playful smirk that can only mean she’s up to no good is now directed at you. “What? I don’t like it when you look at me like that, Char.” You say nervously. “Oh, nothing. It’s just interesting, is all.” Charlie shrugs nonchalantly, her smirk only growing. “What.” You demand, less a question and more an order now. “You and Dean. How long has that been going on?” Charlie questions eagerly, leaning closer to you. You nearly choke on air. “Me- Dean and- What?!” You sputter, eyes as wide as moons. “Oh, please, Y/N, as your best friend, it is my sacred duty to inform you that you two are making major heart-eyes at each other. It’s kinda gross, actually, in a cute way.” Charlie snorts, rolling her eyes at your apparent obliviousness. “Charlie, I think you’ve been watching too many rom-coms.” You scoff. “Y/N, are you serious? You can tell me, I swear I won’t say anything.” Charlie pleads, giving you a pair of puppy-dog eyes almost as convincing as Sam’s. You sigh, realizing she isn’t giving up, and resign yourself to your fate.

          “Alright, fine, you got me. I may, sort of, just a wee bit, kind of... fancy Dean.” You admit. “But if you tell anyone, or even think about it near him, Charlie, I swear to God, I will bloody murder you!” You rush out, panicking at the thought she might let something slip. You loved Charlie, but she was kind of awful at keeping things hush-hush, and you would die from embarrassment if Dean ever found out about your not-so-platonic feelings for him. “I knew it! This is like, amaze-balls, Y/N! In the books the tension was so unreal, and in person, it’s killing me! Dean is totally crushing on you!” Charlie squeals, her face lighting up at your admission. “Holy Batman, you guys are just so cute together! You have to tell him!” Charlie insists. “Charlie, you’re insane. We get along great, and our friendship is really important to me. I’m not going to risk that because of some stupid feelings. Look, Char, I love for trying to convince me to take the chance, but it just isn’t gonna happen, and that’s okay. I’d rather be Dean’s friend than a hook-up or something.” You sigh. “But Y/N, I’m totally serious! You should see the way he looks at you-” “I’m attractive, and I’m a woman. Of course he looks at me. Lust and love are two very different things, Char. Can we- can we just drop it, please?” You ask, mood much more subdued now. “Okay. You’re wrong, though. You’re the Hermione to Dean’s Ron.” Charlie says softly, letting the topic go and playing the next movie.

               What neither of you know is that Dean had walked back, about to inform you of the next hunt, and heard everything from your threat on Charlie’s life, to Charlie’s weird, Harry Potter-themed comparison. Dean stood frozen in the hall, and almost dropped his beer in utter shock, his swift reflexes preventing him from being caught. He was glad no one saw him, because he was sure he’d turned a brighter red than Charlie’s hair, eyes bugging out of his head. Dean had been harboring the world’s biggest crush on you since the moment you’d met- first time the Winchester brothers saw you, you were spattered with blood (whose blood it was was impossible to tell) and had just eradicated a nest of at least five vampires, alone, and Dean was pretty sure he’d frozen and stared at you for a full minute- and had kept it to himself (except Sam, who somehow knew about Dean’s feelings before Dean knew about Dean’s feelings) the entirety of the four years he’d known you. The whole time, he didn’t think for a second you might feel the same way. For a split-second, he wondered if he was dreaming, the surprise of hearing you say out loud that you, Y/N L/N, actually fancied him, Dean Winchester, making his head spin and heart rate accelerate dangerously. And he knew exactly what he had to do.

                You and Charlie had shoved Dean Winchester and all relating topics aside, completely focused on catching up on all that you’d missed, and laughing over inside-jokes and the movies. “Hey, I just had a great idea.” You say suddenly. “What?” Charlie demands excitedly, smiling wide. “Snacks are great and all, but what would really make this a party is some tequila.” You grin, eyes bright with mischief. Tequila was Charlie’s weakness- two glasses in, and she’d be three sheets to the wind, and singing loudly and off-key whatever horrible pop song came into her head for hours, until she eventually passed out. “Absolutely not!” Charlie denies instantly. “Knew you’d say that. You’re no fun.”, you say with a smile, “but if you insist on denying me my own private concert, I’ll break out the cheap booze instead.” You finish. “Be right back! And don’t watch without me!” You shout warningly, Charlie giggling behind you and claiming she made no such promises. 

              You were still grinning as you made your way to the kitchen and the cabinet which housed bottles of cheap, but effective, alcohol. Rummaging through your options and humming classic rock to yourself, you didn’t notice someone else entering the room. “I hope you two aren’t drinking tequila. I don’t think I can handle a three-hour repeat of Charlie singing “Walking on Sunshine” again.” Dean’s low voice chuckles, the sound of his warm timbre sending warmth to your cheeks instantly as you recall the conversation about him from earlier. “Don’t worry, you’re safe. Just some trashy vodka tonight. I think the trick is to get her drunk before mentioning the tequila so she won’t be so sensible and say no.” You laugh, turning around with the bottle in your hand. Your breath catches at how close Dean is, close enough to count every freckle, to see every colour in his unfairly gorgeous messy green eyes. Your nervous smile falters under the intensity of his gaze- normally, when he’s as focused and determined, it’s because he’s staring down some demon or monster. Now he’s staring at you, and the air feels charged, and then his eyes drop from yours to your lips. It’s an effort not to let the glass bottle slip from your hand to the wood floor, and you should probably get going, really shouldn’t be doing this, but the rational part of your brain is drowned out in the overwhelming wave of Dean, and his smell, like good whiskey and leather and gasoline, and his eyes, which were seriously too beautiful to even be possible, and the way he was looking at you. He moves, and this time, you do drop the bottle, thankful for Dean’s quick reflexes as he catches it, and places it behind him on the island without looking, his plump lips crashing onto yours, stubble scratching your cheeks in a way that ignites a blaze of fire in your belly. 

            You kiss back just as passionately, all teeth and tongue and hands that map your body but stay above the waist in a way that’s so gentlemanly and so not. Just as swiftly as the kiss began, Dean ends it, pulling away barely, so you’re breathing the same air, chests heaving. It’s silent for a long moment, just staring at one another, your mind replaying the scene a million times. “You should get back to Charlie.” He murmurs, looking dazed and unfocused, but his eyes are still fixed on you. “Yeah.” You nod, suddenly insecure- was this his way of changing his mind, letting you know the kiss had been a mistake. Something in your expression or flashing through your eyes must give you away, because Dean gently cups your jaw in his rough, warm hand. “Hey,” he says, making you meet his eyes again, the green of them turned dark and hungry, but he’s looking at you with such tenderness, too, “you and me, we’re gonna talk, and I’m gonna kiss you again, probably a lot, but if you don’t walk out of this kitchen soon, I don’t think I’ll be able to let you go.” Dean says roughly, drinking you in. You suppress a shiver at the insatiable look in his eyes, the firm set to his jaw, and carefully step around him. 

                 You take the vodka bottle, and grip it so tight your knuckles turn white, like it’s the only thing keeping you from jumping the hunter right there in the kitchen. Dean watches your every move, and at the threshold, you look back at him. “So, I take it you fancy me then, right?” You ask, needing to hear confirmation. His lips draw into a smirk, and you want to kiss the smug expression off his face. “Give Charlie a thank you for me. Never been so glad for her Harry Potter references in my life.” Dean replies, watching in amusement as you flush red, realizing he heard you little talk with Charlie. “Hope she wasn’t spendin’ the night.” “Why’s that?” You dare to ask. “’Cause we’ve got plans.” Dean smirks, cocking a brow at you, waiting for you to tell him if he was crossing a line. “I’ve seen Harry Potter too many times anyways.” You mutter, meeting his cocky grin with one of your own, and quickly leaving the kitchen.

             “Charlie, I will never doubt you again, as long as I live.” “Well, good, but what happened?” “You and Sam hang out tonight.” “Huh? But- sleepover! Why?” “I’ve got plans.”

TAGS-

@ibwhellowriting​

[ibwhellowriting]

Hello Spring Guidelines

Keep in mind: (these are kinda rules but not really cause it’s not that deep and formal, this is for fun!)

Don’t have to follow me to participate. Please reblog the main post to help me spread the word.

I’ll be joining as well, but I haven’t even finished my 2019 prompts so, that’s how non-pressure this is. If you start these today, mid May or June 2021, that’s a-ok. The idea is to do 31 continuous days, but if you have to skip one that’s totally fine, just continue from where you left off when/if you return to writing them. 

Short Stories = 450 words. You can always write more if you want, I’m not going to stop your inspiration! 450 words is about 6 paragraphs! You can do it! I believe in you!

If you write more, please use the Read More feature. Reach out to me if you don’t know how and I’ll explain it! This makes it kinder to people’s dashboards. 

You can link all the prompts to each other, meaning one can be a part one to any other following day. In fact one could be part three to something you already have going on. Go wild!

Open to every fandom. I reserve the right to reblog Real People Fiction. All ships allowed, no incest no pedophilia.

I made a sideblog for all my prompts and writing event stuff, including and starting with this one. It’s @ibwhellowriting! feel free to tag any of my blogs in your pieces! and include #IBW: Hello Spring 2020 in the first five tags.

You can write in any format you want. 

This is zero commitment! Just have fun and practice your writing!

[supernaturallymarvellous]

Can I Kiss You? (Day 1 of Hello Spring 2020)

Title: Can I Kiss You?

Summary: Supply runs are boring so when Poe Dameron finds himself in charge of one, he can think of a much better way to spend the time……flirting with his flight assistant.  

Author: @supernaturallymarvellous

Characters: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 559

Warnings: None

A/N: @itsbuckysworld is hosting a new challenge - Hello Spring 2020 (check it out here). The prompt for Day 1 is “Can I kiss you?”

Tag Lists are also open for this series of fics - characters to be decided as I get inspired by each prompt.  Actually tag lists are open for all my work so just send me an ask!

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“When we get back to base, can I kiss you?”

The fact that the radio had suddenly crackled to life with those words shocked you so much that you dropped your cup, spilling lukewarm coffee all over the only clean uniform you had left.  You’d been tasked with monitoring the communications for what was essentially a supply run – stopping by a handful of planets friendly to the Resistance to restock on weaponry and essentials.  So far, all had been quiet and you’d been able to relax whilst keeping one ear tuned into any radio chatter.  

The voice at the other end of the line belonged to Poe.  Despite supposedly being in charge of today’s mission, he’d taken more of a backseat than he usually would, acting as an overseer, content for the moment to let others try their hand at negotiating with the locals. You knew he was bored; since flights were usually in combat situations, your contact with him during them was often limited to status reports on the rest of the fleet and the occasional motivational pick-me-up.  This time though, it was different – he was at ease, casual almost, and you could picture the little smirk on his face as he’d said those words.  Smiling to no one other than yourself, you turned on your headset and responded.  

“Do you want to repeat that, Black Leader?  Because for a moment there, it sounded like you said that you wanted to kiss me.”

There was a brief pause.  Mere seconds later, his voice came through the airwaves, loud and strong, brimming with the confidence that you were so used to seeing in him.  “Don’t make me repeat myself, Y/N.  I just think we should take a little time for ourselves right now and I for one would love the chance to spend some quality time along with my beautiful, and may I say highly talented, colleague.”

You thanked the gods that you were alone in the room.  Luckily there was no one around to see your blushes or the silly smile that was plastered right across your face.  Even though you were secretly pleased with Poe’s confession, the opportunity to tease him a little was way too good to miss.  

“So let me get this right.  You’ve essentially hijacked a secure line within a highly sophisticated communication system to flirt with your flight assistant?!  You’ve got some nerve, Poe Dameron.  Perhaps I should record this as part of my report to General Organa.”

A loud thumping sound echoed through your headphones, forcing you to pull them away from your ears as the sound reverberated uncomfortably.  “Sorry.  I….I erm….I dropped…..look, you don’t need to do that.  I’m….I’m sure Leia doesn’t need that level of information……”

Chuckling quietly, you reassured him.  “Obviously I’m just messing with you.  Now can you please turn your attention back to the task in hand – go use those charms to get a good price on some new blasters.”

“Fine.  I suppose that I’ll take these ruggedly handsome good looks and use them to my advantage.  It’s just a shame that you’re not here to see them.  We’ll be back soon – Dameron signing off.”

You couldn’t let the contact end like that, letting him have the last word. Opening up the channel once more, you uttered a few final words into his war in the most flirtatious voice you could manage.

“Hey Dameron…..I’ll be waiting in the hanger!”

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Tagging: @ibwhellowriting   @waywardimpalawriter   @zepppie   @helvonasche @81mysteriouslyme

[justagirlinafandomworld]

Tease

Fandom: MCU

Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader

Summary: Epilogue to Reunion. Three years later, amidst the chaos of the world, you and Clint take the night off, returning to a familiar scene.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption.

Day 1 of @itsbuckysworld​ ’s Hello Spring 2020 writing event.

Prompt: “Can I kiss you?”

Word Count: 590

The breeze was violent, the crashing waves cold and turbulent beneath a secret sky, a new moon hidden behind vast clouds. Beach was a loose term for the strip of earth between the tall trees and shoreline. It was no paradise, but the two of you were nestled between a flickering fire and Clint’s old pick-up, hidden away from the restless world.

Splashes of Bacardi dotted the blanket beneath you as you passed the bottle back and forth.

You pulled the undone tie from around Clint’s neck when he refused to pass the bottle back.

“’S not how sharing works.” You had meant to admonish, but it sounded like a pout.

A clumsy reach for the bottle had you sprawling across Clint’s lap. He laughed, openly, loudly, and leaned back on his hands to stare down at you. You pulled up and leaned your head into his chest, face first.

His shirt was open three buttons down, revealing warm skin and chest hair that smelled of teak wood, lavender and sweat. You could bury yourself in his scent for hours, his skin cool on your hot cheeks.

“You passing out on me, honey?” He teased, a hand reaching up to stroke your back. The air was too humid; your back, cooled by sweat, tingled at the warmth of his rough fingers.

You hummed drowsily, rubbing your nose up his chest, your lips ghosting flesh, before snatching the bottle and throwing your arms up in victory. He groaned and shook his head. You crowed and took a drink.

“You’re lucky Nat wasn’t here to see that, she’d be ashamed.” You chastised; lips still suctioned around the bottle opening.

Clint shrugged, his face creased in a smile.

“She knows a lost cause when she sees one.”

You giggled despite trying to sell a disbelieving eyeroll. He watched you, eyes roving across your body, glittering in the firelight.

His stare was too much. The wind playing with his hair and the opening of his shirt was too much.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked, dropping the bottle from your lips.

His face contorted, all the easiness from before washing away to befuddlement.

“We’re married.”

Fingers twisted the cap back over the bottle and carelessly tossed it aside. A sound of protest barely left Clint’s lips before he was distracted by you moving to straddle his lap. The back of your thighs brushed the top of his pants, your hands circled his shoulders so that your fingers could play with the ends of his hair.

Clint lifted a hand to steady you, fingernails catching in the lace of your dress. His face tilted up to you, he stared in wonder.

“S’ not an answer.” You leaned your head down, burying your nose in his hair, lips hovering over his forehead.

His body tensed. He held you with both hands now.

“Yes, you can kiss me.” You pulled back to catch his gaze. His pupils dilated so that blue was just visible. “I want you to kiss me.”

“Forever?” Your mouth hovered over his, your eyes half lidded.

“And ever,” He leaned up to capture your lips, but you pulled back before he could. He blinked, instincts kicking in and anchoring you as you almost fell back off him entirely.

“Good.” You said with a wicked grin. “Just checking!”

He did not laugh, did not even smile. Consumed by desire, he rolled you over to pin you into the blanket. Your laughter faded on the wind as he kissed your face, your neck, your lips.

[supernaturallymarvellous]

Show Time (Day 5 of Hello Spring 2020)

Summary: When Tony Stark says that he’s going to be at your show and will bring the rest of the Avengers, you know it’s going to be a good night.    

Author: @supernaturallymarvellous

Pairing: Mystery Avenger x Reader

Word Count: 821

Warnings: Mentions of pole dancing/stripping, ending is slightly smut adjacent!

A/N: @itsbuckysworld is hosting a new challenge - Hello Spring 2020 (check it out here). The prompt for Day 5 is “ Maybe you can come to my show?”

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Handing out flyers wasn’t your job.  You were the star of the show.  Right now, you should be relaxing in your dressing room, preparing to provide your adoring fans with an evening of quality entertainment.  But thanks to the sheet incompetence of George the stage manager, 4pm on a Friday afternoon found you walking up and down the streets of New York doing someone else’s job for them.  At least it was going well; plenty of people had been interested, taking the flyer from your hand and not throwing it straight into the nearest trash can. Despite you looking distinctly less glamorous than usual, a few had recognised you and promised that if they could get tickets, they’d be there to witness another perfect performance.  

You were almost done, stuffing the last few remaining leaflets into your bag, when you saw him.  Tall, muscular and incredibly attractive, he stood out from the crowd.  Of course you knew who he was, the entire city did.  A thought flashed through your mind; if you could get him to be in the audience for tonight’s show, it would provide a massive promotional boost and that could only ever be a good thing.  Quickly smoothly out one of the now crumpled flyers, you put on your biggest and brightest smile and approached him.  He was with a few other people but that wasn’t going to stop you.  You placed yourself firmly in his line of sight and held the leaflet in your outstretched hand.    

“Maybe you can come to my show?”

He seemed flustered by the sudden approach.  His friend however wasn’t.  As smooth as he seemed during the press conferences you watched, he took the piece of paper from you and smiled, playfully slapping the taller man on the back as he did so.  

“Well sweetheart, I can personally guarantee that he will be there, front and centre.  Reserve me a table for six, say at 10pm.  Book it under the name of Stark.”

With that, they continued walking.  You were ecstatic – tonight was going to be wonderful and now that Tony Stark had promised to show up, you were practically walking on cloud nine.  You looked at the group of people walking away from you and noticed that your original target kept glancing behind him, almost as though he was trying to get another look at you before you were absorbed into the crowds that swarmed around Times Square.  

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The night rolled around faster than you would have liked.  By the time 10pm arrived, you were exhausted but the thought of seeing that man again kept you on your feet.  Peeking out from behind the stage curtain, you could see the group, as promised, seated at the table closest to you.  While the others were taking in the atmosphere and drinking enough to keep the bar in profit for months, he seemed to be taking it easy. A beer in hand, he was sitting with one arm draped over the back of the booth.  Clad in a black leather jacker, he also wore a baseball cap pulled low across his eyes.  Bless him, you thought, did he really think that was an adequate disguise?!

Finally a tannoy announced your arrival on stage.  You walked out to whoops and cheers but your attention was focused solely on the man in front of you.  As you grasped the pole and began twirling around it, you could see the blush creep up his neck and spread over his face.  But there was something else, something behind those eyes that he was trying incredibly hard to hide.  Whatever it was, it was enough to distract you from your routine so, pushing your thoughts to one side, you continued dancing and watched the money rain down from all sides of the stage.  

As you finished up and made your way back towards the dressing room, one of the other dancers told you that someone had requested a private dance. You quickly raced to freshen up, adding a slick of red lip gloss across your mouth as you walked down the corridor towards the private rooms.  

As you opened the door, you were greeted by the sight of the man that had caught your attention earlier that day.  The hat was gone now, his blonde hair tousled slightly.  He didn’t look as shy as he had just a few moments ago. The way his eyes raked up and down your scantily clad body gave you a rush of confidence and, closing the door behind you, you crossed the small room and climbed into his lap, straddling his denim covered muscular thighs.  As your arms wrapped around his neck, your hands moving up to tangle in his hair, you whispered into his ear as seductively as you could.  

“So what should I call you?”

He smiled, his eyes flashing with a hint of dark desire.

“Captain.  Call me Captain.”

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Tagging: @ibwhellowriting   @waywardimpalawriter   @zepppie   @helvonasche @81mysteriouslyme   @caplanbuckybarnes   @redlipstickandplaid   @patzammit

[captainamericasbeard]

Aliens and Cocktails

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 554

Warnings: Some mild blood and gore

Summary: Bucky has his own way of dealing with alien hordes. 

A/N:  This is my Day 4 entry for @ibwhellowriting ‘s 31 day Hello Spring Challenge. Its short but fun. 

Prompt: Cocktail

Pop pop pop. You and Bucky stood back to back, guns raised in the middle of a blown out street. The alien of the week was gaining ground on either side as you and Bucky stood firm, holding them off. Suddenly you felt fire on your left side and put your hand over the wound only to pull it back covered in blood.

“Uh oh,” you said as you dropped to your knees. Bucky was by your side before your head could hit the ground.

“Idiot,” he muttered, “what’d you do that for?” His voice was calm but you could see the terror in his eyes as he examined your wound. He kept firing off shots to keep the aliens at bay while his other hand put pressure on your side. You looked around and noticed a bar with the large front window blown out.

“Over there Buck,” you spluttered. You tasted blood in your mouth. Shit.

Bucky spotted the bar and quickly scooped you up in his arms. He fired off a few more shots as he leaped through the window somehow managing to hold you steady.

“I got most of them but there are more coming.” He said as he laid you down behind the bar. Your vision was growing blurry and you and Bucky both knew that if he didn’t stop the bleeding, aliens were going to be the least of your worries. He lightly leapt up on the bar and pulled down a few soccer jerseys that had been pinned up above the mirror.

“Crap sport anyway,” Bucky muttered as he pulled out his knife and started cutting one of the jerseys into strips. He knelt down and bound up your wound with the strips of fabric as best he could. In the distance you could hear another hoard of aliens approaching. They were getting closer with every second and you fumbled for your gun, though you were pretty sure you couldn’t hold your arm up.

“Don’t worry about that, doll,” Bucky said as he reached for two whiskey bottles. He unstoppered them with his teeth and then tore the other jersey into long strips. He stuffed the strips of fabric down into the bottles and pulled a lighter out of his pocket.

“Not again, Buck,” you mumbled.

“Oh yes!” Bucky exclaimed with a wild look on in his eyes. The aliens had found you two and were closing in around the broken front window. Bucky quickly lit the fabric and tossed both bottles into the crowd. Exploding glass and licking flames were everywhere as the aliens beat at their own skin to try and put the fire out. The front door started to catch and Bucky new it was time to get out of there. He scooped you up and ran for the backdoor and the alleyway beyond. He flipped on his comms as he continued running down the street.

“Stark, we need a medical evac, quick. Y/N is badly hurt.” Bucky said.

“Sure thing, where are you guys?” Tony replied.

“Just look for the fire,” Bucky said.

“Damnit Tinman! We’ve talked about this! A Molotov cocktail is not the answer to every situation!” Tony shouted into his comms.

“Hey, there were aliens chasing us and now there’s not. Seems like it was the answer to this situation.”

[ladyofmaidensandwine]

Day Three

Day Three of the Hello Spring 2020 Writing Prompt Challenge

Characters- Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Fem! Reader

Prompt- 50′s Diner

Warnings- None, except my horrible knowledge of American 50′s slang, I’m so sorry luvs

Wordcount- 1,017

        He’s a recent regular. The tall- and very handsome- man had begun showing up at the little diner owned by your aunt two weeks ago, and you had yet to serve him that day, but you’ve already got his order ready. Dean Winchester appeared to be a creature of habit, asking for the same thing on every occasion. “Your best burger, a slice of pie, and one of those strawberry shakes, sweetheart.” You had practically committed it to memory, and as he came each Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday during your shift, began telling the cooks to have it waiting for him.

       “Jeesh, Dean! I’d’a asked what you wanted, but looks like you got a knuckle sandwich already!” You exclaim, eyes going wide at the shiner the green-eyed man sports. “Hey, sweetheart.” Dean greets, smirking up at you as you slide his plate and strawberry milkshake to him. “So, what’s buzzin’?” You prompt, hand on your hip. This was the best part of your week- Dean was a bit of a trouble maker, which is part of why you fancied him so much, and every week he had a new story to tell. “Guess the big guy didn’t take so kindly to me interrupting back-seat bingo with his gal. You snort a laugh that makes his grin all the wider and more smug, before rolling your eyes. 

       “As if the great Dean Winchester isn’t out havin’ a bitchin’ time necking some poor girl in her daddy’s ride.” You accuse playfully. He was a ladies’ man, and you’d heard other men call him a bird dog when their gals beat feet to ogle the new man in the small town, but he was mostly harmless. “Got me there, sweetheart, but it ain’t bitchin’ unless it’s you I’m necking.” Dean winks. You hate to admit that he makes you blush. “Oh, cut the gas, and quit it with the apple butter.” You scold, swatting him with your notepad. Dean chuckles, the sound low and rich. “Anything else I can get you?” You ask, returning to your work. “Well, maybe another milkshake, and your number if it’s on the menu.” Dean says with a charming smile. “I’m a classy gal, Dean, gotta at least buy me a shake first.” You laugh and turn away before he can see you turn as red as your lipstick, and jot down his milkshake order as you go.

               By the time his shake is ready, your shift is ending, and you give the waitress taking over a friendly smile as you head to Dean’s table. Everyone at the diner was adamant Dean only ever came on your shift, and exclusively to see you, but you ignored their smirks and teasing jives. You do not fancy Dean. Not even a little. “Alright, Winchester.” you smile. “Have a seat, sweetheart. Haven’t gotten to talk to you much today. You’ve always got a good one to make me bust a gut.” He grins, and you laugh as you slide into the booth beside him. “Well, there was one customer...” You begin.

           Halfway through your story, and a quarter through the milkshake Dean insisted you finish as he was too full to do so himself, you look over to find he’s already staring at you, with warm green eyes and gaze so fond you have to look away before you turn an embarrassing shade of crimson, or melt into the boothseat of your Aunt’s diner. “What? Am I bashing your ears?” You ask, worried you’ve been rambling too much about the woman with triplets and the fiasco she resulted in earlier in the week. Dean’s quick to shake his head, leaning to catch your gaze until you look back at him. “Nah, your stories are the second best part of my week.” Dean reassures. “Only second best? Who I am losing to? The Big Daddy givin’ out free knuckle sandwiches?” You tease, deflecting the attention from you before you could grow any more flustered than you already are. Dean laughs, grinning broadly at your joke. No matter how stupid your jokes were, he always laughed, and genuinely too. “Best part of my week is seein’ you.” Dean winks, and you don’t even try to hide the redness of your cheeks- it would be futile, anyways. You’re saved from a response by the waitress coming over so Dean can pay, insisting he pay for the second milkshake even though you drank it. 

          “C’mon, sweetheart, I’ll walk you to your car.” Dean smiles, offering his arm. You beam back and take it, leaning into his warmth. “So, how about now?” Dean asks. You pause from unlocking the car, giving him a confused look. For once, his cocky and suave demeanor is nowhere to be found, and he looks nervous instead. “What are you jabbin’ about, Dean?” You ask curiously, now even more intrigued by his flustered expression. “Gettin’ that number. Said I had to buy you a milkshake first, so uh...” Dean chuckles, fidgeting slightly and rocking back on his heels. You turn fully to him in disbelief. “Are you messin’? This better not be a bit, Dean Winchester.” You threaten, narrowing your eyes. “No, Y/N, I swear, no bit. Just a coupla shakes with a swell gal. Think I’ve been comin’ around every week on your rounds just for the burgers? I told you, best part of my week is seein’ you.” Dean smiles, looking sincere. “Well, ain’t you sweet.” You grin at him. You jot down a string of numbers on your yellow diner notepad, and hand it to Dean, who gives the biggest boyish smile you’ve ever seen, and turning your knees to rubber. “Say, I know this diner, it’s the cat’s pajamas. If you wanna pick me up at 5, maybe get some milkshakes, have a bitchin’ time.” You offer with a sly smirk. Dean laughs. “You’re one cool cat, Y/N.” Dean grins. “See ya tomorrow then, Dean. Don’t you be late.” You wink. “Like I said, ain’t bitchin’ without ya. I’ll see you at 5.” Dean promises. 

              Alright, so maybe you fancy Dean. Just a little.

TAGS-

@ibwhellowriting​

[supernaturallymarvellous]

Blind Date (Day 2 of Hello Spring 2020)

Title: Blind Date

Summary: Tony has been setting Y/N up on blind dates.  None of them have ended well but will this final attempt be any better?   

Author: @supernaturallymarvellous

Characters: Reader x Platonic! Tony Stark / Reader x ???

Word Count: 675

Warnings: None

A/N: @itsbuckysworld is hosting a new challenge - Hello Spring 2020 (check it out here). The prompt for Day 2 is “Blind Date”

Tag Lists are also open for this series of fics - characters to be decided as I get inspired by each prompt.  Actually tag lists are open for all my work so just send me an ask!

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Friday night in New York City.  The fifth Friday night in a row that saw you getting glammed up to go out on a date with a complete stranger.  A complete stranger that had been foisted onto you by a well-intentioned, if somewhat annoying, Tony Stark.  You knew he meant well, just wanting you to find a little of the happiness that he’d found with Pepper but, unfortunately for both Tony and you, none of the dates gad yet worked out the way he’d been intending.  

The first had been with a member of the Board of Stark Enterprises, a lovely man by the name of Matthew.  Some would describe him as an eligible bachelor and he had treated you with nothing other than kindness, however there had been no spark.  Nada…zip…zilch…just nothing.

Number two was a hedge fund manager that had been pushed in your general direction at a fundraising event which you’d been bullied into attending. You knew straightaway that it was going nowhere; he’d spent the majority of the evening bragging about just how much money he’d made “playing the markets”.  He was conceited, obnoxious and somewhat odious, and you had never been happier than the moment that Natasha had swooped in and rescued you under the pretence of a work related emergency!

Date number three.  Well that had been an unmitigated disaster from start to finish.  Rob, the personal trainer who came in to teach yoga to the admin department each week, arrived 45 minutes late.  He proceeded to spill almost an entire bottle of red wine down your dress and then stole your cab, leaving you to hail another as the rain poured down.

As if it couldn’t get any worse than that, date number four didn’t even show up.  You were left sitting alone at a table for two in one of the most exclusive restaurants in New York, stood up by a man who you had been assured was “ideal for you”. Three Martinis, four Manhattans and one Old Fashioned later, you had grabbed your purse and left, but not before telling the barman to send the bill direct to Tony.  

So tonight, date number five, held little excitement for you.  You were half tempted to wipe off the make-up, climb into your comfiest leggings and lounge on the sofa in front of Netflix. But you’d made a promise to Tony that you’d give it one last shot.  So, after fastening the strap on your heels, you left your room and began to head towards the elevators.  

“Wow!  You look stunning.  An absolute delight for the eyes.  Simply gorgeous.”

Rolling your eyes, you span round to see Tony standing behind you.  He’d obviously been hovering in the communal area, just waiting for you to make an appearance.  

“Well thank you for the overwhelming assessment of me  The effort had better be worth it.  I swear if tonight is another bust, there will be consequences.”

He laughed, reaching past you to press the elevator button a handful of times. “I can’t apologise enough for those previous inadequate evenings but I can promise that tonight will be different. This guy’s the perfect gentleman. He’s a little older than you but he’s devastatingly handsome.  I guarantee that he’s going to show you a good time.  He’s also waiting in the lobby right now.”  The elevator  bell pinged to sound its arrival and Tony, hand on your lower back, guided you inside, hitting the button to take you to the ground floor where your date was waiting. “Have a good night, Y/N.  I won’t wait up!”

As you were whisked downwards, you realised that you were holding your breath. No matter how bad the others had been, you were still holding out hope that maybe, just maybe, this guy could be the one.  You were still thinking about that as you exited the elevator and found yourself looking at Steve.  With one hand holding a small bouquet of flowers, he held the other out towards you and smiled.  

“Ready for our date?”

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Tagging: @ibwhellowriting   @waywardimpalawriter   @zepppie   @helvonasche @81mysteriouslyme

[itsbuckysworld]

Cant wait to read more cute and awesome fics from you! However many come from these prompts and more!!! Thanks for the support and for participating in whatever capacity!

Hello Spring 2020

IT’S THE S-S-S-SEQUEL!

Back in May 2019, I launched my first ever daily writing event, and now it’s time for the sequel baby! I always thought about opening a prompt blog, AND I HAVE! linked on the bullet point.

If you’re new here, this is a 31-Day, daily fiction short story event, where for every day from when you start, should you decide to join in, we’ll be writing a short piece (450 words min) based on the day’s prompt. This is a no-pressure, low-commitment, sharing event and a chance to work out those writing muscles! 

I made a sideblog for all my prompts and writing event stuff, including and starting with this one. It’s @ibwhellowriting​! feel free to tag my main or this one in your pieces! and include #IBW: Hello Spring 2020 in the first five tags.

Guidelines || FAQ || My masterlist for this event || HelloSpring 2019

Please take a moment to read through the guidelines I’ve set, they aren’t really rules but just general info that could help you, and that can help me see your work! I’m super excited to read what you come up with. 

onto the prompt list, which is right under this break from our sponsors, lol jk.

*pls dont steal my banners/designs*

Keep reading

[supernaturallymarvellous]

Diner Daydreams (Day 3 of Hello Spring 2020)

Title: Diner Daydreams

Summary: It’s a hot, sticky day in Scotty’s Diner.  She should be able to enjoy herself but Y/N’s mind is distracted by thoughts of Jim Kirk.  

Author: @supernaturallymarvellous

Characters: Jim Kirk x Reader, Scotty

Word Count: 486

Warnings: None

A/N: @itsbuckysworld is hosting a new challenge - Hello Spring 2020 (check it out here). The prompt for Day 3 is “50s Diner AU”

Tag Lists are also open for this series of fics - characters to be decided as I get inspired by each prompt.  Actually tag lists are open for all my work so just send me an ask!

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The neon lights seemed to pulse and swirl all around.  The air was thick with the scent of grease, mixed with the sickly sweetness of strawberries and cream.  Music pumped through the speakers dotted around the room and couples danced together, twisting into shapes that seemed almost impossible to Y/N as she sat in a booth at the back of the diner.  She’d never been that coordinated and was, quite frankly, glad that she didn’t have anyone to dance with.  Content to simply sit quietly and absorb the atmosphere around her, Y/N finally, afters months of disruption and stress, felt at ease.

It had been a strange time.  All around her, there seemed to have been so many changes.  Her best friend had recently gotten married and whilst she couldn’t be happier for Nyota, there was also a tiny spark of jealousy lodged deep inside her heart.  It wasn’t as though she’d be able to find the same level of happiness anytime soon, not with her track record when it came to dating.  No, the opportunities for love in this tiny, middle of nowhere community had been thoroughly explored and not a single option had proved to be anything other than a brief dalliance, a temporary distraction from the crippling loneliness Y/N felt acutely as she watched others find love.

As if perfectly timed to tear her away from her despondent thoughts, a large milkshake was slid towards Y/N.  “I figured you could use this.  Nothing says comfort food like a big double chocolate milkshake.”  Looking up, Y/N saw the friendly smiling face of the diner’s owner, Scotty.

“Cheer up, lassie.  We can’t have you looking all sad, not on such a sunny day.  You should be out there with your pals, perhaps finding a young man to have some fun with….although I have to admit that the air conditioning in here is a godsend in this heat!”

Y/N laughed.  Scotty always did know what to say in order to pull her out of a funk.  “Well, as always, Scotty, you’re right.  I just wish that there was someone worth having fun with.  It’s not exactly like there are that many options.”

One of Scotty’s eyebrows quirked upwards.  “You know, young Jimmy Kirk’s back in town – I always thought the two of you would make a very fine couple.”

“Jim’s back?!  When did he get back?”  Y/N stood up, leaving her milkshake all but forgotten.  Excitement coursed through her veins, the likes of which she hadn’t felt for longer than she cared to remember.  

Pushing open the door, Y/N felt the air around her crackle with electricity as the holodeck disconnected her session.  She’d coded the system to alert her the instant that Jim and his team had beamed back abroad the Enterprise after their most recent mission.  And now that he was back, perhaps she’d put her long hidden feelings for the Captain into action.

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Tagging: @ibwhellowriting   @waywardimpalawriter   @zepppie   @helvonasche @81mysteriouslyme

[ladyofmaidensandwine]

Day Two

Day Two of the Hello Spring 2020 Writing Prompts Challenge

Characters- Charlie Bradbury, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Fem! Reader

Prompt- Blind Date

Wordcount- 1,155

         Living in an underground bunker no one knew existed and hunting monsters didn’t leave much room for dating. You were a hunter since you were eleven, after your parents were killed by a shapeshifter, and you’d joined up with the Winchester brothers three years ago. It was hard to go out on a date, especially because you had to lie about your entire life- most people didn’t react well to learning monsters were real, and you killed them. You had been telling Charlie, your best friend and surrogate little sister, about the very dull man you’d gone out with recently, ice cream in hand and the Harry Potter movies playing in the background, when you caught a mischievous smile spreading on her face.

       Narrowing your eyes, you pointed your spoon accusingly in her direction. “Whatever you’re thinking, the answer is no.” You said quickly. “Ok, but hear me out!” Charlie says excitedly, holding up her hands defensively. You groan in protest, flopping backwards. You know how this goes- Charlie sets her mind to something, and she doesn’t stop. You try to convince her to stick to a rule of no meddling, but she’s already invested in whatever plan she has. “I’ll set you up on a blind date!” Charlie exclaims, the redhead barely containing her excitement. 

        “Charlie, no offense, but I think that’s a horrible idea.” You sigh, rolling your eyes at your eager friend. “C’mon, Y/N! Who knows you better than me, your best friend! Just one date? Please? I’ll never try to meddle again.” Charlie bargains, giving you her best puppy eyes. She hasn’t mastered them like Sam has, but you have to admit, she’s pretty good. You grumble inaudibly, and she knows she’s won. “Just wait, it’s going to be perfect!” Charlie grins broadly.

          Charlie has given you no information other than where you’re going, and what you should wear. Sighing, you slide on a pair of low heels. You don’t dress up, ever, unless it’s for a case, but it feels nice to wear your comfortable and cute black dress and you even put on a touch of makeup and pin up your hair. The restaurant Charlie is sending you to is fairly nice, and at the least, you figure, if the date is horrible you’ll still have good food. 

           Someone behind you whistles appreciatively when you step out of your room and into the halls of the Bunker. “Well don’t you clean up nice.” Dean’s low and familiar voice drawls, raising a brow at you. “Where you headed?” He asks, leaning back on the wall. You’d never say anything, but you’ve had feelings for Dean for positively ages, and though you know he has a reputation with women, it’s nice to hear the compliment. “On a date.” You reply simply, watching as his face registers surprise before returning to his typical cool amusement. “With who?” Now you feel your cheeks heat. “I- I don’t actually know. It’s a, um, a blind date Charlie set me up on.” You admit, looking down for a moment. You know he wouldn’t make you feel bad about yourself for going on a blind date, but you can’t help but feel embarrassed about the situation. “He’s a lucky guy.” Dean winks. Your cheeks tinge pink again. “I better be off. It’s a bit of a drive.” You say lamely, needing to leave before you say something you might regret. “Have fun, sweetheart.” Dean smirks. You frown confusedly at his low chuckle, like he’s got some sort of secret joke and you don’t know the punchline, and then he’s disappearing around a corner.

          Shoving Dean’s odd behaviour to the back of your mind, you climb into your own car, a classic cherry red Chevelle you’ve taken care of well, and head to the restaurant. For a moment as you park, you swear you see Dean’s Baby in the carpark. Charlie had the reservation placed under your name, and the hostess scans her list before giving you a bright smile. “Right this way, miss! The other member of your party is already seated.” She tells you, leading you through the restaurant and towards the back. She stops at a table in a secluded corner, and look up to find the last person you’d ever expect sitting at the table.

         Smirking at you again with that inside-joke amusement in his forest coloured eyes is Dean Winchester. He’s wearing a nice suit and tie, and you can’t help but appreciate the view before snapping out of your daze. You turn to tell the hostess there must be a mistake, but she’s already walking away. Stunned into silence, Dean takes the lead, pulling out your chair for you and returning to his spot. “What are you doing here?” You blurt. “I may have overheard your conversation with Charlie, asked for a favor.” Dean shrugs, and you blink. “You’re my blind date?” “Mhm. Disappointed?” Dean asks, quirking a brow. You shake your head, still trying to process why the hell he’d be the one. Charlie was the only living soul who knew about your feelings for Dean, and you’d been positive she wouldn’t betray the secret.

        “But- but why?” You ask. Dean is saved from having to answer by the waiter taking your order. You’re more than a little shocked when Dean orders your favourite meal, pausing to glance over at you for confirmation. “Is this some sort of pity thing?” You ask, needing to know he wasn’t doing this because he felt bad. Dean looks taken aback, furrowing his brows. “What? No, ‘course not.” “Then what is it?” “Dinner?” He attempts, but you give him an unimpressed look. Dean sighs, and he avoids your eyes. “’S ‘cause I like you, ok? I asked Charlie to not tell you it was me. Wasn’t sure you’d come if you knew.” Dean mumbles, ears and neck flushed. A smile curves your lips. “Yeah, I would’ve been running for the hills.” You tease, Dean glaring playfully. “You like me, huh?” You swear Dean turns redder than your Chevelle. “Yeah. That ok?” “I’m tempted to say no, but thing is, I kinda fancy you too.” You smirk, Dean regaining his cocky composure. “Charlie said you did, but I didn’t buy it.” Dean reveals, and for a moment you want to get revenge on Charlie for breaching girl code etiquette, but then realize you’re thankful she had. “If I’m being honest, I’ve liked you for a long time.” You confess, blushing as Dean gives you a charming grin. “Makes two of us.” He winks. You laugh a little, and he gives you a questioning look. “I guess I owe Charlie now.” “What for?” “The best damn blind date ever.”

TAGS

@ibwhellowriting​

[ladyofmaidensandwine]

Day 8

Day 8 of the Hello Spring 2020 Writing Prompt Challenge

Characters- Dean Winchester, Fem! Reader, Ellen Harvelle

Warnings- Classic Rock. Insult it, and face my wrath.

Prompt- “Can I call you?”

Wordcount- 1,345

             Humming the tune of AC/DC’s Girl’s Got Rhythm you served up drinks and polished glasses efficiently. Ellen’s Roadhouse saw plenty of traffic, most of which was hunters looking for a way to celebrate a success, or mourn a failure. You yourself were a well-known hunter, specifically for the kill-count record you held as the undefeated heavyweight champ of werewolf slaying, but you liked to work at Ellen’s bar when you took breaks from tracking down another fanged and furred beast. You didn’t even realize you were still humming the classic rock song as you poured a glass of whiskey for a man you hadn’t really looked at, but he did. 

            “AC/DC, huh? Didn’t take you for a fan.” The man said, voice low, smooth, and making you snap your eyes his way. “Sorry, I forget I’m even doing it.” You laughed. “Wait, if you’re on of those people who diss AC/DC, I’m going to advise you to get a drink from a different bartender.” You said seriously, eyes narrowed at the man. You took advantage of his brief surprise to give him a once-over. Tall, broad-shouldered, muscular, and with a jawline that could cut diamonds, and bloody hell, those eyes. Too bad he hated good music. “What, you kiddin’? I mean, they’re no Led Zeppelin, but they’re a classic!” He scoffed, as though even suggesting he disliked rock offended him deeply. “That’s not a fair comparison considering Stairway to Heaven is the greatest rock song ever written, but I’ll let it slide.” You winked, the green-eyed man giving you a toothy and crooked grin. “Where the hell have you been my whole life?” Green-eyes grinned, extending a hand. “Name’s Dean.” “Y/N. So, ignoring your misguided opinion that Led Zeppelin is better than AC/DC, what else do you like?” You asked.

            You and Dean talked and laughed for the better part of three hours, swapping favourite songs and bands, and testing each other’s rock knowledge. “A ‘67 Impala? Damn. My baby’s a ‘57, Bel Air. Got the white wall tires and everything.” You shared,Dean whistling in admiration. “Sounds like a beauty. You’re an awesome chick, Y/N. Sweet ride, good taste, in music and men,” Dean winked as you rolled your eyes, “and you’re a hunter.” “A what?” You asked, deciding teasing him could be fun. Dean turned pale. “Oh shit- uh, y’know, I thought you were-” “I am. I didn’t tell my last name, did I? Y/N L/N, werewolf huntress extraordinaire.” You bowed dramatically, Dean breaking into relieved laughter. “Jesus, woman, tryin’ to give me a heart attack, or what? Really got me for a minute. I’m Dean Winchester, by the way. Started-the-apocalypse-on-accident-and-died-a-million-times Dean Winchester.” He joked. You snorted a laugh and shook your head. “Man, the stories I’ve heard about you...” You trailed off, Dean nodding his head. “Yeah, well, I can tell ya hunters tend to exaggerate.” He waved dismissively. “Oh no, you’re not escaping this one so easily. I wanna hear the real story. C’mon, Dean, I’ll even bring you whiskey on me.” You winked. Dean groaned aloud. “You play dirty, sweetheart. How am I supposed to say no to that face and free whiskey?” Dean complained.

            “Well, I’ll be damned.” You said at last, somewhat stunned by Dean’s story. “No kiddin’.” He chuckled. “Well, now that I’ve spilled my guts to you, it’s your turn. What does Y/N L/N like besides cool cars, good music- Led Zeppelin is totally better, by the way, but I won’t argue- and my favourite brand of scotch?” Dean questioned, leaning forwards with a smirk. “I had a normal childhood, actually. Started hunting when I was 20, after a werewolf got my parents. I’m an only child, so dropping out of college and starting to hunt seemed like the best way to do it, and I didn’t have a brother to talk me out of it. I met Ellen Harvelle a year later, and she took me in, taught me everything I needed to know, gave me a home.” You said, smiling at the older woman at the other end of the bar. “And I work here when I can. That’s really all there is to it.” You shrugged. “I ain’t buyin’ that for a minute, but you can tell me the rest of the story next time.” Dean said with a deadpan face. “Next time? You plannin’ on a next time, Winchester?” You asked teasingly, arching your brow. Dean leaned in with a mischievous look to his emerald green eyes. “If I say drinks are on me, do my chances go up?” He asked. “Drinks were on you either way, but you’re lucky you’re cute.” You winked. “It is one of my finest qualities. Y’know, after my superior taste in bands.” Dean shrugged cockily. You swatted his shoulder with a glare. “Keep insulting AC/DC and this fine ass is marching itself far away from you.” You threatened. Dean donned a frightened face.”I’m sorry, I swear! You wouldn’t be so cruel as to hit a man’s pride, would ya, sweetheart?” He pouted. “Way I see it, you’ve got enough pride for the both of us, but I do like free drinks, so you’re off the hook for now.” You smiled. “Thank God.” Dean sighed dramatically.

             You were busy after that, but made your way back to Dean when you could. “Hey, Winchester.” You greeted. “Hey, sweetheart. I’m actually headed out now. Got a hunt tomorrow.” Dean said apologetically. “Oh, alright. Next time you’re in town, you owe me a drink, though.” You reminded, a smile playing across Dean’s plump lips. “Will do. Before I go, could I get your number? So you know when I’m in town?” Dean asked, looking nervous, but hiding it well. You smiled softly back at him. “Sure thing, Winchester.” You agreed, his eyes widening slightly like he’d expected a different response before you punched your digits into his phone. Dean grinned back at you and pocketed his phone. 

              “Can I call you? Just to talk, maybe convince you Zeppelin’s a better band?” Dean raised a brow, giving you a lopsided smirk that made him even more attractive. “My mind is set, but yeah, you’d better call. Now, get outta here, before one of us does something stupid.” You teased. “Like what?” “You can’t expect me to not want to kiss you when you look at me like that.” You scoff, inwardly surprised by your own boldness. Dean’s broad smile grew even brighter, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Then I guess I’m gonna have to keep looking at you like that.” He retorted, leaning in. You gave him a cocky smirk of your own, and closed the distance between you.

               The kiss was maybe a bit more passionate than was appropriate, but you blamed it on him for looking like an actual Greek God. Dean’s stubble was rough on your hands and cheeks, but you didn’t mind, and he tasted like the whiskey you’d served him, and something uniquely Dean. He wasn’t soft, per se, but he was gentle, letting you make the moves and take the lead, though it was clear he was holding himself back. Just when you tilted your head slightly, your logical brain caught up with you, and you realized you were making out in a crowded bar the woman you saw as a surrogate mother owned with a man you’d met that night. Pulling away quickly, you placed a hand on Dean’s heaving chest. “I would very much like to continue this, but the bar is not the best place, and I, unfortunately, am not off of work.” You explained with a sigh. “Gives me more reason to come back sooner.” Dean winked, looking just as flustered as you did. “Make it real soon, Dean.” “Will do, sweetheart.” Dean gave you a last kiss and a flirty smile, and walked out of the Roadhouse.

             “Not that I’m not supportive of your datin’ life, but maybe not in my bar, hon.” “Sorry, Ellen. It’s his fault for bein’ so damn attractive.” “Mhm. That’s what they all say.”

TAGS-

@ibwhellowriting​

[ladyofmaidensandwine]

Day Ten

Day Ten of the Hello Spring 2020 Writing Prompt Challenge

Characters- Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter, Fem! Reader (Steve’s Sister)

Prompt- Balcony

Wordcount- 1,063

A/N- I made meself a bit teary at the end, there.

                  The moment you found out Bucky had been drafted, you’d enlisted to join the army. Being Steve’s older sister by a year, you and Bucky had grown up together, and you wouldn’t dream of letting him go to war without you. It was the way you’d always been, completely inseparable in a manner less platonic than Bucky’s relationship with Steve. The two of you had always stood up for your little brother, and since his medical problems prevented Steve from joining the military, you planned to fight for both of you. You just had to figure out how to tell them.

               Your enlistment had been different- you’d been selected for a special assignment, an Agent of the Strategic Scientific Reserve, the SSR, and keeping your training secret from your family and boyfriend was hard, but you knew they’d try to stop you if they found out before you were ready. Another long day of physical training left your body sore and weary, but you couldn’t seem to sleep. The sound of something bouncing off the glass pane of your window roused you from the bed, and for a moment you reached for the gun you now hid in your vanity, along with your cosmetics, before a smile spread across your face.

              “James Barnes, what time do you call this?” You called, stepping onto the balcony outside your room. You were grateful for the robe you’d pulled on before leaving the bedroom, as the night air nipped at your cheeks and chilled your body. Below your balcony stood Bucky with a cheeky smile, looking pleased with himself. “I’d enter through the front door, Doll, but Stevie would wanna beat my ass, the punk.” James called back, hands behind his back. The balcony was low, and you leaned onto it, resting your head on your hands as Bucky walked closer. “And pelting my window with rocks is better?” You teased, raising a brow at your boyfriend. He often came to your balcony, and you’d grown fond of and accustomed to the routine. “So subtle.” You chuckled. “Gotta see my best girl somehow, Doll.” He winked back, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Though he acted roguish in public, James was a perfect gentleman. Usually. He produced a single marigold from behind his back and offered it to you with the most adorable crooked smile on his face when your cheeks flushed. “My favourite. James, you spoil me.” You scolded playfully, kissing him softly again. He knew you preferred the marigolds to a bouquet of roses, and it had become a tradition for him to buy you one whenever he saw them. “You say it like it’s a bad thing.” He smirked.

              “James. What’s wrong?” You asked softly. He met your eyes, looking startled, before laughing with a wry grin. “You always know. I’m... I’m shipping out with the 101st, in the mornin’. Was gonna tell you at the World Fair, but you couldn’t make it.” He explained, frowning up at you. “I know. James, you think Stevie wouldn’t blab ‘bout it moment he saw me?” You pointed out, extending your hand, and lacing your fingers through his. “Damn. I just want you to know, I’m coming back home to you, ok?” Bucky said seriously, his blue eyes looking watery in the moonlight and amber glow from the streetlamps. “You’d best. And you’ll meet me here, at our balcony.” You told him, smiling slightly. “Cross my heart, Doll.” James swore. You believed him.

                     Your brother and boyfriend had a heart attack when Colonel Phillips called for Agent Rogers, and you saluted, dressed in the same army greens as your good friend Peggy Carter. Of course, once you proved you knew how to handle yourself by knocking Bucky on his ass a few times, they were less angry. He’d proposed to you, and with tears streaming down your cheeks, you’d ecstatically told him yes, while Steve threatened to “beat the shit outta ya, jerk” if he hurt you, and you thought you had it all.

                 The first time you thought you’d lost Bucky, Steve couldn’t keep you from coming with him on a very unauthorized and dangerous rescue mission, and you yelled at James for a good minute before pulling him into a passionate kiss, and telling him you’d kick his ass next time he was such an idiot. The second time, you were there, right behind Steve. You watched in agony as James fell off the train, and Steve had to physically restrain you from jumping right after him like you could somehow save him. You weren’t the same after that, and neither was Steve. 

           You didn’t think it was possible to be any more heart-broken until you sat in the radio operating room with Peggy as Steve crashed the plane into the icy sea, giving you one last goodbye as you and Peggy openly sobbed, holding each other like you were the only lifelines left.

               The pair of you went on to form S.H.I.E.L.D, and James Buchanan Barnes was the first name on the wall of heroes, your brother’s following right after. You and Peggy worked hard to create something you knew they’d be proud of, something to honour heroes, and hopefully to find more.

           For years, you would go out to your balcony, every night, in some silly hope that one night, Bucky would be there, with a bouquet of marigolds and a silly smile, and he’d kiss you and sweep you off your feet. Old and grey now, you still waited, still hoped. Your James had always been a man of his word, and he’d crossed his heart that he would meet you at your balcony.

                 When Steve Rogers woke from the ice, he visited you at the very same balcony. Unlike Peggy, even in your old age, your mind was quick as ever, and you’d wept, and then scolded your selfless idiot of a little brother, and Steve came to see you dutifully.

                  Three months later, you’d passed away peacefully, stargazing on the lounge chair resting on the balcony outside your room, and a year after that, Steve arrived to find a bouquet of marigolds left behind. They continued to appear on every moonlit, starry night, a handwritten engraving on the railing of the weathered and craggy stone reading Cross my heart, and Steve knew you were smiling wherever you were.

TAGS-

@ibwhellowriting​