#i really like that barbie is very clearly NOT a bimbo

[lollytea]

Barbie is an awesome aroace icon and also I really appreciate that while it's established that she is completely uninterested in sex, she still has a thorough understanding of the concept. Her lack of libido doesn't result in any infantilization from the writing.

[minispidey]

01: Barbie and the Giftshopist.

Steven Grant x f!bimbo!reader. series masterlist. next part.

01. This Barbie is his new neighbor!

warnings: uses y/n once, get ready for kinda cringey bimbor!reader. over-use of the word like. extremely feminine reader. reference to elle woods. NOT BETA READ.

"Yeah, but like, I totes believe her. I mean she's totes being framed. I wanna help her." as Steven got off of the lift, he sees multiple boxes out in the hallway and hears a woman's voice talking to someone.

You walk out of the flat in front of his to push in the rest of your things. You were wearing something someone moving in shouldn't be wearing: a pink lace top, flared pink pants and cute high heels. You had a purse and everything.

"I need an alibi from her. Like, she can't just like go to jail for something she didn't do. That's a crime itself." you held your phone in between your shoulder and ear "I'm totally bugging. Where's a good manipedi here?"

"Uh, I think there's a salon across from the baker around the corner?" Steven spoke up from behind you.

You turn to face him, blinking twice "I'll call you back. I'll see you at the office." you end your call and smiled at him "Thanks so much. My nails have suffered too much this past week. Oh, we're neighbors!"

"It seems like we are."

"I'm Y/N. It's so nice to meet you." you two shake hands "I'm like, really struggling with these boxes. And I know I'd be like super desperate, but I am, but can you help me, please?" you smiled brightly, even batting your long eyelashes.

"Oh, uh, yes, absolutely." he said, taking a couple of the boxes from the hallway.

You kept kicking some of the boxes in with your pink high heels, clearly impatient and trying to push them all in. Steven halts your actions by picking them up and setting them down inside.

"You gotta uh, carry the boxes inside. They get stuck when you just push them." entering your flat, he placed more boxes down. He could see your walls were already painted a different color: pink. Steven was surprised to see such a bold choice of color, but he could already tell by your outfit what kind of woman you were.

A woman with great fashion-sense.

You were beautiful. Something about you was just so alluring, so hypnotic. He couldn't even believe a beautiful woman like you was talking to him, let alone letting him enter your flat. But he did notice you were a bit of a ditz.

"Do you need any help with anything else?" Steven asked, turning around as he spoke. His ears were slightly red because of the way you looked at him.

"That's all. Thanks so much." you smiled "I just moved here, and like, still adjusting."

"It's not a problem at all. If you need anything, don't be shy. I'm just in front."

"That's so nice of you! Totes, I'd definitely need some help. Oh shoot, I never got your name."

"It's fine. I-It's Steven."

"It's so nice to meet you, Steven."

His eyes shifted to the racks filled with clothes. Pink, to be exact. You were extremely feminine. He spots furs and his brows furrow a bit "Er... uh..."

"They're faux fur. Can't tell the difference anymore." you giggled, wheeling them to a corner with the rest of your clothes.

"Oh. Well, they're very nice." Steven smiled "Are you a model?"

"Gosh, that's such a compliment. No one's ever said that before. But no, just love clothes. How about you? Wait wait! Let me guess..."

Steven found it adorable as you squint your eyes, thinking of what his job is.

"Are you like... a sculptor? No, a painter! Am I close?"

"I work at a gift-shop, actually. A giftshopist." he smiled.

"No way. You have really pretty hands, you could be like a hand model. Or like I said, a painter."

Steven blushed like a mad man "Thank you. No one's ever complimented my hands."

"You're pretty handsome, you know? It's like... gosh you have a nice nose too." the way you complimented him was as if he was a sculpture.

Steven's heart almost stopped when you casually mentioned how handsome he was. You were incredibly blunt about it for someone he had just met.

"Thank you." he said, his cheeks turning a shade of pink. Something about you saying it that make his body feel all warm. It's such a strange and unusual feeling for him.

"No, but like seriously. You are so handsome. It's like driving me a bit cray, you get it, right? Gosh, I sound like a total creep."

Hearing the same thing two times in a row sent him into quite a little flutter. He had never been one to be flirted with and the combination of how direct you were, plus how much you were repeating yourself certainly made him feel something.

"No, it's fine. No, you don't sound like creep, it's totally fine." he looks back up at you "I'm just... I'm not used to... it."

"Used to what? Being called handsome?"

"Yeah." Steven chuckled, the sound escaping his mouth in such a high pitched and nervous way that it sounded almost like a squeak "And uh, being flirted with..."

Your phone suddenly rings, making you two jump up. You take your phone out, looking at the caller ID "So sorry. I gotta take this."

"Oh, no worries." he clears his throat, taking the opportunity to collect his thoughts and calm his racing heart and mind.

"I, uh, I should go now." he says "I'll see you around, luv."

"I'll see you around, Steven." you gave him a smile before answering your phone, pacing back and fourth across your flat.

As Steven enters his flat, his heart calms down but his cheeks were still red. His eyes shifted towards a mirror, a clearly judging Marc staring right back at him.

"So. You like her?"

"Oh come on, Marc. I just met her."

That evening, Steven heard a knock outside his door. His ears were perked up as he approached the door, opening it to find you in your cute animal print night dress and holding a casserole dish "Okay, so like, I got called in to the office earlier and I never got to properly thank you."

"It's not big deal, luv." he blushed "They're just boxes."

"And really heavy ones. You are like, super strong. Plus I finally got my manipedi." you giggled "I made lasagna in the office but I got leftovers, do you wanna split?"

"Uh... actually I'm vegan."

"Oh gosh, I'm like so sorry. That explains the fur thing!"

"Yeah." he nods "It's alright, luv. I don't wear a big ol sign saying I'm vegan."

"Well... I was just hoping we could hangout because you seem like a really nice guy. I mostly bond with food."

"It's alright, uh..." Steven looks behind him, looking if his place was presentable "If you want, you can eat it here while we chat? Maybe a cup of tea? I've stepped inside your flat, might as well welcome you into mine."

"Really? That's so nice of you! I swear, when I get my stove and oven I'll make you something vegan."

"You really don't have to. I assure you, it's alright."

"Don't worry! I can cook."

Ever since that day, Steven is ecstatic to wake up everyday and greet you in the morning as you both went off to work.

Your clothes were always consistent with the pinks and whites, but you always looked professional as you head off to work.

Steven began to guess what your profession was. You said you weren't a model, perhaps a designer? A professor?

He snapped out of his thoughts when you placed a plate of fried tofu with some sauce over it and spring onions.

"Stevie, do you know where I could like, donate books? Mine are sooo expensive but someone might want to use them." you asked as you cleaned up your countertop.

"Yeah, why?"

"Okay so like, Jean, he's like a newbie, he totally bugged me. Brags that he loves to donate his stuff. He once donated a canoe. He says like he was a hoarder back then. I thought to myself, am I hoarding?" you spin, facing Steven "I totally am! I have books I won't need anymore and I don't have bookshelves anyways."

"I have spots in my bookcase. Maybe I could take them off your hands?" Steven looks up at you with a smile "I don't mind. They have sentimental value?"

"Very. Plus, they were soooo expensive I swear. I could've bought like fifteen more pairs of heels if I hadn't bought them. Or maybe just a pair of Choos."

"What kind of books are they exactly?"

"Law."

"Law?"

"Law." you clear your throat, lifting your arm and bending your wrist in a dramatic way "I'm a lawyer, obvi."

Steven was slightly taken aback by the news. He certainly wouldn't have guessed that right "You're a-a lawyer? Oh, wow, that's super impressive. Wait, how are you dressed the way you are if you're a lawyer? Don't they make you wear suits and stuff?"

"Duhh, I wear pink ones! You see me wear them to work every morning." you smiled "I have a lot."

Steven's truly never met a woman like you.

"You're incredible..."

[tearsofthekabak]

The Yona Rant.

Some people will say that this game came out months ago already, and everybody is over it, and even kinda like her now, and to that I answer 

First of all, I would like to remind you, reader, of the old texts. *blows into the sacred n64 oot cartridge* 

The Zora royal line have proven itself to be very obviously Linksexual. If you haven’t played, Ruto proclaims herself Link’s fiancée, the spiritual stone of water being a litteral engagement ring. It is clearly brought into BOTW, with Mipha actively making him an engagement present according to current Zora tradition.

Sidenote: Link accept both gifts, and as the player you never get to clear it up or refuse. Make it what you will. 

Why am I mentioning this? 

She’s Link’s Zora-sona.

(((If you want to bring gender into this, BORING. Link is canonically nonbinary. (neither male of female, able to be related to by anybody, those are things expressed multiple times by the creators))))

Everything about her that is different from the other Zoras is intended to be Link-like. 

The way she has the droopy sleeves instead of the shoulderpads 

The purple ribbon cutting into her silhouette in the same way the straps of his outfit do

The golden jewelry instead of Domain Silver

The horns simulating the spiky Hylian ears

Her head-tail is smaller and pointy, way closer to the shape of the classic hat

GREEN. A specific shade.

Babyfaced she-twink

She is the PEAK of Zora beauty standard, how silly of you to judge her with your human beauty standards. Yona is a bimbo, a barbie, everything hot under the sea. Literally evolved to be Link-like. She’s a trophy wife, a sex symbol, an idol. She has a dedicated Zora entourage simping for her.

Now, the way she suddenly shows up, without having being mentioned in BOTW… how do yall feel about surprises? I don’t think there would have been any moment in the game where it would have been natural for any Zora to bring her up, with the crisis happening, and the feelings about Mipha being so fresh to them. It made me feel like it was a world that was alive! Sidon is a hundred years old but you expect to meet everybody important to him in the first game he appears in? 

Also, I do think Yona’s existence was hinted, with Muzu there, and every other Zora looking like they could be Sidon’s sibling or child… I personally really felt like the Domain looked inbred in comparison. Was the only other option blue Mipha? Lame.

Can you imagine a young Muzu? Vibrant green, chibi-headed, Dorephan's very own "best friend". Come on.

Sidon is just like his dad fr

What about not getting married at all?

The thing with kingdoms, is that it specifically depends on a royal line, especially in Hyrule where abilities are given from parent to children. There was always going to be a need for a Zora Queen at some point.

What was the other option, simply not meeting Yona? Not addressing it? How tragic to imagine her absence, a lonely King with an elderly father, no mother, no sister, just a monogamous mass of subjects. And Muzu.

No, there needed to be a fiancée, a weird Link-like gremlin, who was there to accept their love. I don't believe Sidlink could have a better happy ending than this, given nintendo.

SQFD: If Sidon was to marry anybody to continue the royal line, it’s Link’s Zora-sona of course. Which is Yona. 

[understandingbimbos]

Rosalie Duthé, Anita Loos, Bill Wenzel, and Barbie.

I think at this point we've all accepted there's no single bimbo point of origin (or, POO). No bimbo ground zero. Rosalie Duthé is often cited as not only the first example of a bimbo but the first dumb blonde.

At the moment, she's even on the Wikipedia page!

Which is honestly really unfortunate imo seeing as she was a real person and a prostitute, but that's neither here nor there, I guess. Anyway. Unless I'm mistaken, we don't actually know much about Rosalie Duthé. And even if she was a singular influence on the very concept of bimbos and dumb blondes, then what happened? Where are the examples of dumb blonde and bimboish characters appearing in plays and literature from 1775 onward? How far did this idea spread outside of France? I'm not saying its not possible or that these examples don't exist, but its hard to pin down. When Rosalie Duthé was alive "bimbo" was still only Italian for "little boy". And while the play mocking her may have introducd the concept of the dumb blonde that doesn't mean it was necessarily solidified as an archetype right then and there.

Enter Anita Loos. By the time her comic novel, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, is published in November of 1925 (after having been serialized in Harper's Bazaar) the dumb blonde, bimbo, and gold digger are already established archetypes. While Loos most definitely helped popularize these idea with her internationally best-selling often-adapted satire, she was utilizing what was already there. If anything the original idea she pushed was that men prefer blondes and that blondes have more fun. Anita Loos also wrote the screenplay for the 1932 film, Red-Headed Woman, where Jean Harlow plays an ambitious flirty giggly woman that fucks pretty much every male character that appears in the film (and doesn't appear in the film).

(pictured, Jean Harlow and Anita Loos)

Then of course in the 50s we get Marilyn Monroe, Jayne Mansfield, Mamie Van Doren, and Judy Holliday. There were also men's magazines like Humorama featuring art from artists like Bill Ward, Dan DeCarlo, and Bill Wenzel. Featuring women who were either clueless, horny, or gold-digging, but all extremely buxom.

And 1959 saw the release of the original Barbie, which was just a slightly modified version of Bild Lilli, a German sex doll. I don't have much to say about that, its still something I need to do more research on, and that's part of the point of this post. Connections are there but hard to find. I really can't speak to what influence Barbie has had specifically, I think it may all be surface level, but there's something to be said about the fact so many women I follow will cite or invoke her. And that "doll" is even considered a compliment/ideal in general, physically and non-physically. You know in the sense of "You're such a doll" or "She's so pretty she looks like a doll." Its interesting. My friend says dolls represent "an easily replicated curated aesthetic" and that may be the reason for the point of reference.

There was a lot more I was going to say and this post was going to be a lot less nonsensical but I am extremely tired. I thought I could clearly and quickly get my thoughts out before I had to go to sleep. I was wrong. Sorry. Goodnight!

[ri-ahhh]

bad day

MJ has a bad day dealing with her snotty coworker, who wants MJ’s promotion and her boyfriend.

4.8k

warnings: potentially triggering BD thoughts/language; smut; obnoxious amount of fluff cuz idk about you but I need some softness

“Hi sweetheart,” Grayson says with a smile as MJ stalks into the living room with a scowl. She plops next to him on the couch and hurls her heels off with a flourished kick, glaring at where they land a few feet away on the shaggy rug. His grin falls when he notices her pinched face and lack of returned greeting. “Rough day?”

MJ nods and curls into his side, silently pleading for him to wrap her in his arms. Grayson obliges immediately and pulls her into his lap, tucking her as close to his chest as he can. When MJ asks for physical affection as comfort, which isn’t as often as you might think considering that’s one of the best ways she shows love, Grayson knows she really needs it.

“’S the matter, Peach?” he asks gently with a kiss to her forehead. He smooths her long hair down and scratches his nails lightly on her thigh as she snakes her arms around his waist. “Chanel again?”

Chanel Marten is MJ’s coworker and a petty, idiotic thorn in her side; every bit the LA bimbo with the stereotypical Barbie looks and meanness to match. When she isn’t calling MJ fat behind her back or constantly trying to undercut her to their bosses in light of an upcoming promotion they’re both up for, she’s actively hinting at how much she disapproves of MJ and Grayson together. She’s been a fan of the twins for years, and doesn’t make it a secret that she is very much attracted to Grayson, which MJ finds partly amusing and wholly fucking annoying.

“God, how do you let him go to those influencer parties alone?” Was what she asked earlier today at their office. She was scrolling through the series of photos on Grayson’s latest Instagram post from the night before, looking his sexiest in that half-open linen button-down and his Louis pants. “I wouldn't let him out of my sight in public if I were you.”

MJ glanced over at her blonde coworker and couldn’t believe the audacity of this woman to go through her man’s Instagram right in front of her. She didn’t acknowledge it, answering her question instead. “I trust him. And he’s not alone, he’s always with Ethan.”

Chanel twirled her hair and sighed, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. It was the end of the day on a Friday, and she probably could have gone home already, but had instead chosen to wheel her desk chair into MJ’s office across the hall from her own. For what, exactly, MJ didn’t know; they were far from friends, barely amicable coworkers at best. Antagonizing MJ was probably the start of a good weekend for Chanel.

Her suspicions were answered a moment later with Chanel’s next choice of words, her irritating vocal fry even more prominent than usual. “Yeah, but all of those IG models in one room, and you guys aren’t, like, super public. What if he wants a taste of what he doesn’t have?”

MJ squeezed her mouse in a death grip, but didn’t divert her gaze from her screen. “What are you implying, Chanel?” she asked irritatedly, her patience running at the thickness of a piece of paper for the bitch by then. She had already thrown MJ under the bus in their morning meeting with their bosses for something MJ’s intern had screwed up in their presentation, and MJ had caught her making snide comments in the break room about her ‘birthing hips’ and ‘thunder thighs’ to Annie the Asshole from Accounting. Annie was another coworker who, upon learning that MJ wouldn't invite Grayson along to after-work drinks simply so she could meet him, had immediately put MJ in her hypothetical burn book.

Right then, she finally had a moment to go back into their projections and fix what her intern Alessia had mistyped in the final presentation copy, and Chanel was only serving as both a reminder of her actions in the meeting and a distraction from her getting her work done.

MJ wanted nothing more than to be at home with Grayson by then, a tension headache creeping steadily up the back of her neck and into her temples. She had been the lead on this client presentation, so staying at the office until nine or ten at night hadn’t been an unusual occurrence lately; she was only glad by then that this was the end of a rough few weeks of work as soon as she was done fixing Alessia’s errors.

Chanel smirked but hid it as a simper of sympathy, clearly thrilled she was visibly getting under MJ’s skin. “I’m just saying, MJ, you’re super pretty, but, like, you don’t work out that much, right?I never see you in the gym here, or hear you mention going to one after work. I mean, Grayson being surrounded by girls who do fitness for a living would have to be like being in a candy store for him. We both know how much he cares about living a healthy lifestyle.”

She double-tapped the post, her too-long nails that were clearly trying to emulate Kylie Jenner’s or the like clicking obnoxiously against the screen, and sat back in her office chair. “I think if I were you, I’d quit this place and concentrate on building a following. Maybe try the fitness influencer route, yourself. It’s a pretty good trade-off, if you think about it; Grayson gives you clout, and you get snatched for him. And, you’d be able to keep a close eye on him. Boys will be boys, after all.”

That did it. Chanel Marten didn’t know her life, and she sure as hell didn’t know Grayson’s character. MJ finally took her attention off her iMac to give Chanel a glare that rivaled Lily’s ‘you’re dead to me’ look in How I Met Your Mother. It took every ounce of self control she possessed to hold herself back from acting on the overwhelming urge to punch Chanel’s newly-doctored nose.

Upon realizing MJ was done fucking around, Chanel’s smug smile slowly faded, until all pretenses were dropped, and the two women just stared at one another. No more fronts — not cordial coworkers anymore, but rival ones.

MJ knew what this girl was doing. Trying to make her insecure in her relationship with Grayson, and question her position in the firm so she wouldn’t go for the promotion. Chanel was as dumb as she looked if she thought either of these would work, but MJ had had enough of both her intelligence and her appearance being so blatantly insulted. She swiveled back to her computer and started doing the last couple of tweaks to the report that she had started before Chanel so rudely barged in.

“You know, next time you wanna pull a fast one and make me take the fall for an intern error, I’ll be happy to let Lacey know you’ve made us all rush this presentation by turning your last three sections of analytics in late, which is why I didn’t have time to review Alessia’s portion since I had to work your shit in last minute. I have time stamps on my email to prove it. Not to mention, the screen recordings of Snapchat stories of you at Saddle Ranch that someone showed me from the same nights you sent them. Should be pretty beneficial for my interview for Executive VP next month, don’t you think?”

MJ smiled and emailed the altered report back to her boss, Lacey, and made sure her computer was completely locked down before reaching into a cabinet for her purse and lunchbox. She stood and looked down at Chanel, who had her arms crossed tightly and her overfilled lips pursed so they were unusually pale and thin. MJ was going to leave it at that, but she was very much done being the bigger person, and a brief moment of pettiness came over her.

“And I hope you do find a man as good as Gray one day; maybe having someone as kind and real as him will make you less of a cold-hearted bitch.” MJ dug her keys out of her purse, motioning with her eyes from Chanel to the open door. “Now, please get out of my office. I’m ready to go home to my amazing, faithful, sexy boyfriend.”

Chanel scoffed and rolled her eyes but did as she was told, rolling back to her desk and giving MJ the cold shoulder as she breezed past her office.

“I didn’t fucking do anything to her,” MJ whines into Grayson’s neck after relaying all of this to him. Her bravado and smugness towards Chanel had dropped almost as soon as she reached her car in the parking garage of her downtown office building. Her insecurities had crept into her brain to join her full-fledged migraine and made driving home in traffic an even bigger nightmare than usual. “She’s hated me since the day I started there, no matter how nice I’ve tried to be.”

“She’s jealous, baby,” Grayson murmurs at once, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “You’ve come in and been there half the time she has, done the same job way better than her, and got recognized for it. Nobody likes to be outshone.”

MJ sighs and squeezes him reflexively as she moves on to the other half of Chanel’s dislike for her. “And it’s like getting bullied by the head cheerleader in high school. She basically told me I was too fat for you and that I don’t work out enough to ‘keep up with your healthy lifestyle.’” She lets out a little mirthless huff of laughter. “I mean, usually she says it behind my back to Annie the Asshole from Accounting, so I guess I should be appreciative that she at least had the decency to say it in so many words to my face tonight.”

Grayson sits in silence for a moment, seething internally at the thought that some dumb bitch who doesn’t know him in the slightest could have the nerve to talk to and about his girlfriend like that. He reaches for his phone on the couch next to them. “First of all, you're not fat, and I’d love you just the same even if you were. Second, give me all her at’s. I’m blocking this girl on everything.”

God, could the man get any more perfect? MJ sits up some and cups his face, shaking her head with a small smile. “No, no, it’s okay, Bear. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she got to me. If anything, I’d want you to post a thirst trap just so she can see what’s not her’s. What’s mine.”

“I think that could be arranged tonight,” he smirks, giving her a chaste kiss.

She attempts to smile back, but it turns into a grimace as her head gives a massive throb out of nowhere. “Shit,” she mumbles, pressing her fingertips against her temples. Grayson gives her a concerned look before she explains, “Headache.”

It takes all of three seconds for Grayson to secure one arm around her back and hook the other under her knees, standing and holding her bridal style. “Come on,” he says, like she really has a choice in the matter, and starts carrying her to their room. MJ wraps her arms around his neck and nuzzles her head into his shoulder with her eyes closed to block out the evening sun. “We’re taking a bath, then I’ll order dinner to eat in bed while we have a movie night.”

MJ nods gratefully. As usual, he knows exactly what she needs. “Ratatouille?”

Grayson chuckles at the hopeful tone in her voice. Ratatouille is one of MJ’s ‘sick’ movies; something quiet and nostalgic that offers that weird feeling of peace that you need when you just don’t feel good. “Of course, Ratatouille.”

He sits her on the counter once they reach the ensuite bathroom and pinches her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, planting a warm, lingering kiss on her lips; not heated, but comforting. Just what she needs in that moment.

“Stay put,” he commands quietly. MJ agrees and starts to unbutton her blouse as she watches Grayson step into the closet, pulling out one of her favorite t-shirts of his and a pair of his boxers. He puts the folded items next to her on the counter and helps her untuck the shirt from her cigarette trousers, tossing it in the dry-cleaning pile before reaching into one of her drawers and retrieving her makeup wipes.

MJ sighs and closes her eyes as she lets him gently drag the fresh-smelling cloth against the skin of her face. They aren't part of her usual skincare regimen, but Grayson has been exposed to her routine long enough and is perceptive enough to know that they’re for late nights, or ones like tonight, when she just doesn't have the energy to do more.

It feels better than if she had been able to get herself to use face wash and toner and such, anyways. The coolness of it and pressure of his fingers feel wonderful against her eyes and cheeks, alleviating some of the pain there momentarily.

MJ flutters her eyes open when he’s done. “Thank you, Bear,” she sighs, which he replies to with a kiss before walking over to the soaking tub. She hops off the counter and unbuckles her belt and pants, then unhooks her bra and steps out of her underwear.

Her reflection in the mirror glares back at her, Grayson in the background fiddling with the knobs on the tub to get the temperature of the water just right. She watches his muscles ripple with the slightest movements, his abs outlined through the fabric of his t-shirt, and can’t help but focus back in on herself. There’s some extra squish around her upper thighs and arms that no amount of training would get rid of; a softness to her tummy that probably comes from her undying love of Oreos, which are her nighttime vice. When she compares the two of them in this intimate space, maybe Chanel was right…

“Stop that.”

MJ startles a little and looks up in the mirror from where she had unconsciously started pinching and picking at what were really the bits of healthy pudginess under her skin, to find Grayson standing directly behind her. The harshness in his tone makes her withdraw and blush some, embarrassed that he had caught her at such an insecure moment.

He wraps his arms around her middle, his open palms brushing against the skin of her belly. His touch both warms her insides and causes them to erupt in nervous tingles. For some reason, MJ has a hard time seeing the two of them like this, with her completely naked and him fully clothed. She isn't afraid, never with Grayson, but she feels incredibly vulnerable in a way she isn't used to with him.

Grayson presses a kiss to the back of her head and makes sure they have eye contact through the mirror before he continues. “I’ll be damned if I let some idiot girl who doesn't matter to either of us make you feel like you’re not enough, MJ. You’re perfect, you hear me? You’re perfect, and I wouldn't change one inch of you, inside or out. Please don’t pick yourself apart like that.”

His voice holds a mixture of conviction and sadness, and MJ bites her lip as she sinks her back into his chest, her arms folding around his at her waist. She brushes her palm across the crisp, dark hairs covering one of his forearms.

“I could work out a little harder, though,” she murmurs after a few seconds of silence. “And cut back on a few carbs.”

Grayson looks at her incredulously. She’s lean and athletic, but it’s impossible to have the juicy, natural perfection of her ass and those breasts without a little extra, which he actually adores; she’s the very definition of slim-thick, a beautiful personification of the word.

He isn’t sure what kills him more inside: to think he hasn’t made it abundantly clear to her that he loves every square inch of her body; or if girls, society, whoever it is, make her think that the hard work she puts into her physique isn’t enough simply because she has a body type that isn’t what Instagram or people like Chanel deem ‘perfect’.

Either way, he’s going to rectify things right this instant.

“First of all, MJ, I know exactly how hard you work out; I’m doing it every morning with you, five days a week at 6 AM, remember? I’m the last person to lie to anyone about how much effort they give in their fitness. I know how hard you push yourself.”

He spins her around and cups her cheeks in his big hands. His stomach withers and his heart hurts when he sees the faint glitter of tears illuminating her emerald green eyes, making him want to be extra sure his next words are heard loud and clear. “Second, if I ever see that family sized box of double-stuffed Oreos in the trash, not empty, I’ll have a meltdown wondering where the hell my girlfriend went. Please, MJ. Those girls at your work are miserable cunts who only want what they can’t have. Don’t bring that energy back here, on us. I love you, exactly as you are.”

MJ takes a moment and considers his words before relenting with a nod. He’s right. Chanel and Annie should be the last things she’s thinking about when she’s got the man of her dreams right in front of her, saying all the right things and bringing her back to reality with his sweet, supportive words.

“I’m sorry,” she sighs, leaning in for a tight hug from him. “I love you, too.”

“Don’t apologize,” Gray assures, rubbing her back soothingly. “Let’s have a nice, relaxing night now, okay?”

MJ nods, pulling away enough from his body to grasp the hem of his t-shirt. He wags his brows playfully as he lifts his arms so she can pull the garment over his head, and gives her a quick smile before ducking down to kiss her.

She seems to be feeling slightly better, and a weight lifts from his chest at the realization. “Don’t distract me,” he mumbles against her lips after they make out lazily for a few moments. “Or our bath will overflow.”

“Don’t be so perfect, then,” she says back with a smirk, giving his ass a little swat as he returns to the tub and drops a Lush bath bomb and a chunk of bubble bar into the water.

While he does that, MJ opens one of the medicine cabinets. She isn’t big on taking pills, but she relents today and pops an Excedrin as her head pounded again. Once she swallows it with a handful of water from the sink, she starts to pile her hair into a bun, but is stopped by Gray’s grip on her forearm.

Her eyes had zoned out on a random spot on the counter, but at the pressure of his hand she looks up in the mirror to see him as naked as she is. “Don’t be silly,” he chides lightly, a smile toying at the corners of his lips. “You’re getting the full treatment tonight, Peach. I’ve got your shampoo and conditioner ready to go over there.”

He pulls gently down on her arm, and her hair tumbles back down over her shoulders and back as she lets him tug her to the warm, foamy water.

Ten minutes later, the Excedrin has kicked in, soft music from their ‘chill’ playlist plays through Grayson’s phone on the edge of the tub, and his strong fingers are creating heavenly relief for her as they scrub at her scalp. She’s totally relaxed in front of him, letting his broad chest and shoulders cocoon her smaller frame as her eyes droop and she moans lightly.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day, sweetheart,” he whispers in her ear, making her shiver despite the steaming water they sit in. She snuggles closer to his warmth. “And I’m sorry you have to deal with those assholes every day.”

It takes a moment for her brain to form the words, but she hums contentedly in reply. “It’s okay. Don’t know what I’d do without you, though, Gray.”

It’s so true. She has never been the girl to be codependent on anyone, let alone the man she’s in a relationship with, but Gray has achieved that honor in a matter of a year and a half. Probably earlier, if she were being honest with herself, but her adult life before him was a blur. She’s forgotten what it was like to not have him by her side, and she doesn’t want to imagine a scenario in the future where he isn’t.

He finishes washing her hair, lulling her into an even deeper trance when he moves her dark, wet locks over one shoulder so he can massage her neck with deep presses of his thumbs into her tight muscles. His fingers are nimble and dexterous, strengthened by his renewed passion for rock climbing, and are perfect for loosening the tension under her skin.

“Mmm, fuck,” she moans, not meaning for it to come out quite so pornographic, but she feels nearly orgasmic in the relief his hands are bringing her. Speaking of… “You’re gonna get the best head tomorrow, I promise.”

Grayson chuckles, squeezing her shoulders now, too. MJ feels him twitch against her lower back, but he says in her ear, “I’m not doing this for you to return the favor. I just want to be the one to make you feel better. Because I love you, and you’re mine, and you deserve it.”

“I know you’re not,” MJ smiles. “That only makes me want to do it even more.”

He grins and moves his hands further down her back beneath the water, massaging his knuckles into the soft skin there as well before coasting up her sides. He cups her breasts as MJ sinks back against him, her breathing picking up the slightest bit as his hands work magic there, too.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his hot breath flowing straight into her ear and sending goosebumps flaring over her skin.

More than okay, she thinks. MJ nods, and gasps when his hands pinch her nipples gently between his ring and middle fingers, tugging slightly. She takes his large hand off her right breast and sinks it into the water, straight to her center, her legs already parting to welcome him.

“Just rub me,” she whispers, eyes closed as he doesn’t hesitate to obey. “Circles, like this.”

MJ guides his fingers over her clit for a moment to show him exactly what she wants, but this isn’t their first rodeo and Gray knows perfectly well what he’s doing. She lets him take over and simply lies back against him as he expertly brings her higher and higher, until she’s falling over the edge, twitching in his arms and moaning sweetly.

Grayson tilts her head back to kiss him, sighing into her mouth as she twists in his arms to straddle him. He’s completely hard now, and she takes him in her hand instinctively. Twenty minutes ago, sex was the last thing on her mind, but she feels so good and relaxed now that she doesn’t hesitate to line him up and sink down slowly on his dick.

She grins smugly when his eyes fly open and he lets out an embarrassingly loud moan, completely surprised by a warm wetness that is vastly different from that of the bathwater. When she had stroked him in her hand he thought she might jerk him off, but her pussy, still deliciously tight from her orgasm, isn’t what he’s prepared for as he becomes slowly encased in it.

It’s a good thing she doesn’t meant for it to last long, because he’s so overwhelmed and caught off-guard it only takes a couple of minutes max of her grinding up and down on him while she whispers hot, dirty things in his ear, for him to shoot deep inside her.

“Shit,” he huffs out with a little laugh as she raises herself up enough for him to slip out of her pussy. “Did you just give me the equivalent of a hand job with your vagina? I know that wasn’t for you.”

She giggles and sits back in his lap, shrugging as she nuzzles his nose with hers. “What can I say, I’m feeling lazy tonight and that seemed like the faster option. Are you complaining?”

Grayson shakes his head vehemently. “Of course not, but I didn't want you to do any work tonight.” His brows pinch a bit and his lips turn down into a pout. “Are you okay? How’s your head?”

MJ smiles softly and brushes his cheek with pruned fingertips. Even post-orgasm, he’s still concerned only about her. “Better, Gray-bear. Thank you.”

God, she loves him so much. She can’t resist wiping her hands on the towel and reaching behind him to grab his phone to capture him in that moment. His hair has gone curly in the humidity of the bathroom; the light from the window shines perfectly on his chiseled face, making his sex-eyes nearly pure green and illuminating his full lips that have curled into a small, crooked smile as he realizes her intention. She laughs when he takes it upon himself after a few serious snaps to play up to the camera, scooping up some of the bubbles and blowing them off his palm while giving her a joking, coquettish expression. Finally, she puts her back against his chest once again and they take a couple of goofy, up-angle shots, close-ups of their faces.

Photoshoot over, Grayson sighs and hugs her tight to him as he sucks kisses up and down the sides of her neck while she goes through the pictures. He’s making her head swim, but she manages to determine three of her favorites and doesn’t even bother editing them before adding a simple heart emoji in the caption and posting them to his Instagram once she earns his approval.

She turns around to put the phone back on the ledge before leaning in to plant her lips on his, slipping her tongue between them sensually. She could kiss this man forever, but eventually they start slowing down. MJ moves her kisses to his sharp jawline, trailing her mouth across and down until she gets to his neck freckle. She gives it a peck before pulling back, meeting his hooded gaze with warm eyes. It feels so good to just give each other these little bouts of physical affection with no real end goal. Just enjoying each other’s company, in their own space, caressed by the comforting warmth and scents of the bath.

Eventually, MJ peels herself away from him and stands up. Grayson stares up at her adoringly, admiring the way the water cascades over her body and rains down back into the tub. “C’mon, I’m hungry.”

She looks like a naiad with her long, dark hair covering her tits and dripping sensual trails of warm water down the dips and curves of her body. As if she doesn’t look delectable enough to him right now, her pussy is inadvertently right in his face, and his hand instantly reaches up to touch her. “Me too,” he growls, his fingertips tracing her lower lips and parting them so her clit is exposed. His mouth literally starts to water as he thinks about her earthy taste and her slippery arousal coating his tongue.

Just as he’s ducking in to swipe his tongue over her slit, MJ grips a handful of his hair and stops him, tilting his head back with that grip to make him look up at her questioningly. “Not now,” she says, taking her turn to scratch her nails along his scalp for a moment. “Still sensitive. And actually starving; I had to spend my entire lunch break fixing part of that report.”

Grayson nods understandingly and lifts the plug in the drain before standing up as well. “Then let’s get some Monty’s in you, hm?”

“That sounds amazing,” she agrees, her stomach growling right on cue.

They both chuckle and Grayson helps her step out of the tub before wrapping her up in a big, fluffy towel. He kisses her nose, then her lips, and retreats into the closet with his own towel to find fresh PJs for himself.

An hour later, they’re chowing down on some burgers and shoestring fries together in the fresh blankets of their bed while Ratatouille plays through the projector. And Chanel’s stupid username hasn’t popped up once in his likes or comments.

[parkersjiggle]

I love jealous Tony ! It was a great read :) do you think you could do jealous Peter where they are in an established relationship ? Like at a restaurant an an old bf or gf of Tony comes up ☺️

Thank tou in advance 💜

Hi! Thank you! Here it FINALLY is, I hope you enjoy. ❤️

TW: jealous bimbo ex, non-consensual touching (?)

——————

Even though it’s been a year of being Tony Stark’s boyfriend, Peter still feels dizzy with admiration of how handsome his lover is, sharply dressed in an immaculate full-black suit and the midnight blue tie Peter helped pick out this morning.

He didn’t look too shabby himself with the crispness of his suit and the perfect tailoring Tony insisted on. Normally he would’ve complained, Peter already had a perfectly fine suit and he didn’t need Tony to spend even more money on him, but tonight was special. He wanted to look good for their anniversary, perfect for Tony.

Tony placed his arms around Peter, leaning closer to him. The softness and the gentle touch against his neck, made Peter’s back tingle. Whenever they were close like this his thoughts would usually stop as if his heart took over from his head. However, one thought seemed to remain tonight.

“You haven’t kissed me in like five whole minutes. It’s really upsetting.”

“Is that so, baby?” Tony smirked in a smug kind of way. “Let me make it up to you.” He gently leaned in, brushing his lips against Peter’s. Not innocently, like a tease but hot, fiery, passionate and demanding. Then he fully kissed him and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. Tony’s hand rested below Peter’s ear, his thumb caressing his cheek as their breaths mingled.

“M-much better.” He could feel the heat growing in his cheeks. By now they must be beyond an attractive rosiness. Peter had that kind of smile on his face that couldn’t hide the love that warmed him from within. It was a little silly how badly a simple kiss from Tony still affected him, how responsive he was to him.

It just felt so great to be loved. They were so relaxed in each other’s company, so caring. Their love for one another radiated from them. “That’s what I thought.” Tony winked at him, pulling his lover closer. His embrace was warm, and his big, strong arms seemed very protective when wrapped around the younger’s frail body. This was nice, perfect even, and he never wanted the moment to end. But then it did.

“Oh my gosh, Tony! Is that you? I can’t believe it!”

Peter really didn’t think he was the jealous type. That is until he sees the woman walking up to his boyfriend, acting as if Peter is nothing but mere air around them.

She was like all those models in the magazines, after they had been airbrushed of all the imperfections. Her butter colored hair fell perfectly around her shoulders, and she had the deepest blue eyes that could intimate even the strongest of men. Peter couldn’t help hating her, and that was before the introductions.

“Ah, Stacey. It’s been a while. Uh... Peter this is my old friend Stacey, Stacey this is Peter.” Tony pointed between the two of them, introducing them to one another.

“Oh please, Tony, we were more than friends, weren’t we?” She winked at him, completely ignoring Peter’s existence. And if Peter starts to see red when the long-haired blonde not so surreptitiously touches her hand on Tony’s arm, well, he has every reason to. This woman is blatantly flirting with his Tony, and that’s not okay. God, and that dress, the neckline of her shimmering gold gown dipped dangerously low, showing off her considerable assets. Peter nearly growled watching her.

He knew he should be used to it by now. Of course people would show an interest in Tony, who could blame them? An attractive, intelligent, billionaire who also happened to be a first class superhero. Peter got that, truly.

But he just really, really didn’t like it.

He didn’t want to cause a scene though, doesn’t want to wrap his fingers around her throat and use his super strength to make her eyes bulge out, definitely not, even though it would be very satisfying. Instead he tries to act mature, put on his big boy pants and show this blatantly transparent woman who Tony really belongs to.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Tony’s boyfriend, Peter.” He then rested his arm on the back of Tony’s chair, brushing his fingers on Tony’s arm, just to let her know he wasn’t on the menu tonight. Tony was taken.

She scoffs, af if addressing her was the most offensive thing Peter could’ve done, and doesn’t waste any time in turning back to Tony. She flicks that butter blonde hair to one side in what he knows is a conscious act, Tony must see it too, right? Dangling from her perfect lobes are diamonds set in white gold. They are exquisite, accentuating the length of her neck. They probably cost more than most people make in a month. He realizes that he has held his gaze too long when her face turns into one of triumph.

She’d gaze through her overly made-up eyes with her cloying vapidity and laugh at anything Tony said, even if it wasn’t funny. She had a constant case of bedroom eyes and it was pissing Peter off.

“Hey, back off, Barbie,” Peter thought and caught himself. Whoa, where had that come from? He didn’t have time to question himself, for Tony looked over Blondie’s shoulder and smiled at him.

He knew Tony was only being polite. He never flirted back and it even seemed like he felt awkward, with the amount of times he coughed and cleared his throat, Peter was starting to think he had the flu.

Yet, that knowledge didn’t keep the green eyed monster at bay when her hands returned on his boyfriend, this time landing on his chest.

He narrowed his eyes into slits. Realizing he was holding his flute of champagne so tightly that it was in danger of shattering, he instead brought it to his lips and downed it all with one swallow before beckoning the waiter for another drink.

At her wandering hands, Tony’s usually fond expression completely disappeared into a much harder one. His brown eyes looking over Stacey with irritation. Yet, he still doesn’t say anything.

Peter - and perhaps the glasses of champagne had something to do with it - does though. “Okay enough is enough. The time for being polite is over cause clearly you don’t recognize a no when it’s waving in front of your face. He’s not interested in you. I know you miss him with the kind of sadness that sinks your bones into the earth, and I know you’d do anything to get him back, I get that. I would too if I lost a man like him. But, sweetheart, you were nothing but entertainment, something pretty on his arm, a little bit of eye candy maybe. If you really want to pleasure him, make him happy,” he stands up, getting in her face, “then leave.” Even Peter himself recoils a little from the venom in his voice. And clearly she does too because with a heated glare, she walks away, to the sound of Tony snickering.

“You do realize that I’ve already patented the right to be the emotionally unstable, immature and insecure one in this relationship, right? Do I need to call my lawyers and start a law suit? cause I won’t have you coming for my title.” He grinned, clearly seeing the amusement in this situation.

“Ha, very funny, Tony. You know, you could’ve said something right? Then maybe I wouldn’t have had to lose my cool and look like the crazy obsessed boyfriend.” He rolled his eyes at Tony.

“Let them think what they want,” he turns with that serious look that still has his trademark warm eyes. There was something in those brown eyes that was so beautiful, so safe and warm. In just one look he was home, “so long as you’re by my side, love, the rest of the world can go fuck themselves.” And that’s just what Peter needed to hear, that he’s Tony’s for now and into the future... that there will be a future. Cause all thoughts have the potential to grow toxic, but insecurities are born hungry.

“I’m sorry I really didn’t mean to get so intense.” Peter spoke softly. Tony shook his head. “Don't be, you're adorable when you're jealous," he teases, his voice drops to a huskier tone as he adds, "and I'll make it all up to you later tonight, baby."

Peter gulps loudly, pupils dilating already. “Promise?” He whispers. Tony wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, gently rubbing. Despite the heaviness in his stomach, Peter fluttered at the feeling of his body pressed against Tony’s. It almost felt like holding him wasn’t quite enough. Peter had to feel every once that he is press into every ounce that is Tony. “I promise.” He whispers back just as quietly, kissing the top of Peter’s head.

———————

You’re always welcome to send in more prompts!

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

You’re Always Right

Requested by the amazingly talented @sorenmarie87​

Dean x Reader | Prompt 13: “I promise you I have never once sparkled in the sunlight.” (SMUT)

Words: 2810

Warnings: Smut (obvs), language

A/N: None really. Hope you like it doll! Love ya!!!

“How do you know, Dean?”

“Because, I’ve done this before, sweetheart.”

“I have too, but I don’t remember ever hearing about vamps walking around in the daylight.”

“Trust me, with the way things are lately, you can’t always trust the lore. Or what we know,” Dean lowered his machete and turned to you. “Everything is upside down lately, you know that.”

“I do, but still, I just don’t see how vamps are able to do that without burning,” you replied, getting frustrated with his lack of a reasonable answer.

“Even monsters have anomalies among them,” Sam spoke up from behind you. “We’ve seen some pretty crazy things lately (Y/N).”

Shaking your head, you raised your brows in resignation and turned back towards the abandoned house a hundred yards in front of you.

“Ok, so what’s the plan?” you asked Dean.

Before he could answer, an old, rusted car came around the bend and pulled to a stop in front of the house. Three men and a woman poured out, with one of them circling around to the trunk and popping it open.

The bright afternoon sun reflected off the chrome of the trunk as it flew up and the vamp reached inside pulling out the body that was bound and gagged.

“Alright, Winchester, you were right? Happy?” you said poking his shoulder.

“Extremely. Proving you wrong is something I live for,” he said with a smile and winked before turning back towards the car. “Wait until they’re inside. We flank the house, cover all the exits. I’ll go in for the girl.”

“I bet you will,” you mumbled under your breath, annoyed that Dean was always chasing after the victims; especially the female ones.

“What was that?”

“Nothing… just, let’s get this over with,” you said and unsheathed your blade.

Approaching the house, Sam circled around back, while Dean went towards the front. You wanted on the blind side of the porch in case one of the half-dozen bloodsuckers got past the brothers.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the idea of a vampire being out in the broad daylight. No matter how odd the monsters were lately, it just didn’t seem as though that was possible. Your mind started to race as to what it could be, how they could be out…

Gunshots rang out. Screams from inside the house made your blood curdle as you saw Sam sprinting from around the back of the house, blood covering his shirt.

“You good?” he asked frantically as he raced past you towards the front.

“Yeah… Dean?!” you yelled running after him.

“I don’t know!”

Reaching the front of the house, Dean was standing there, with three severed heads at his feet and a big smile on his face.

“See? Daytime Vamps…” he said as he bent down and pulled up a lip of one of the heads.

Its fangs were still out, sending a cringe through you. “I get it, you were right… alright? Can we go now?”

“No… really… I wanna hear it,” Dean smirked and offered you a playful wink.

Sighing, you shifted your weight to your other foot and put the hand not holding the machete on your hips. “Fine. You were right. Dean Winchester is the smartest man alive.”

Dean threw his arms wide and grinned a large, toothy grin as he looked at his brother. Sam shook his head and reattached his blade to his belt.

“How the hell did you manage to take down three of them like that? Especially when they weren’t asleep?” you asked, actually quite impressed with Dean, but wouldn’t dare tell him that.

“Cause I am that good, sweetheart.”

“Or, maybe you just have a thing for vamps… having been one yourself,” you retorted and instantly felt bad.

“Wow… low blow,” Sam mumbled and passed you a look that made you feel even worse.

“Dean... I’m sorry… I just—”

“It's fine. And you’re right. I do have a thing for vamps. A thing for making sure they all die bloody. Mostly because they are disgusting, vile monsters, but also because one of them had the nerve to try and turn me.”

Dean looked down at one of the heads and snorted a laugh as he nudged at its heavily painted and shiny face with his boot. “However. For my brief time as a bloodsucker, I can promise you I never once sparkled in the sunlight.”

Sam couldn’t help but laugh as your face tinged bright red.

“C’mon, let’s get these things gone and go find the closest bar. I need a drink,” Dean said as he brushed past you, not looking at you but lightly bumping your shoulder as he did.

  You sat at the end of the bar next to Sam as he scrolled some sites on his laptop, but your eyes were fixed on Dean. He was chatting up the bartender, a blonde with little boobs and big brown eyes set firmly on the eldest Winchester.

The pull in your gut every time he laughed at her made you ache. Unable to watch the object of your affections flirt with another, you downed the shot of whiskey sitting in front of you, as well as Sam’s.

“Hey,” he said with a half-hearted objection. “I was going to drink that.”

“Shoulda done it faster then,” you mumbled as you slipped off the chair.

The two shots, in addition to the two you’d downed ten minutes before, hit hard as you sauntered past where Dean was sitting and talking with Bartender Barbie.

“Hey…” he said as you went by, “where are you going?”

Stopping without turning, you drew in a deep breath. Trying not to sound how you felt, you pushed your shoulders back and turned your head enough to see him from your peripheral.  

“Going to find myself someone to celebrate with.”

Just as you were about to approach two very good-looking guys and one gorgeous woman by the pool table, feeling like any of them would do to numb the pain, you felt a hand wrap around your arm.

“No, you’re not. You’re too drunk,” Dean said quietly in your ear.

It caused a rush of adrenaline and ache for him to break out across your skin. Turning around fully to face him, his bright green eyes were fixed on yours.

“What the hell do you care? You got your… conquest for the night.”

Dean shook his head, but his face softened as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “Conquest? You think that’s what that is?”

“What else could it be, Dean? Clearly, you have a type,” you snorted and tried to shake his grip.

“Maybe. But it ain’t her,” Dean shook his head and closed his eyes, steeling himself to what he was about to say. “Apparently my type is a snarky hunter who doesn’t really give me the time of day.”

His eyes bore deeply into your flesh, causing your cheeks to burn hot and unable to look directly at him.

“Yeah, and who’s that? Jodi?” you snorted with a smile, but Dean didn’t react.

“You’re drunk.”

“And you’re an ass.”

“I don’t doubt it, darlin’. Especially if you think I was talking about anyone other than you,” Dean’s lips pursed together in frustration as he loosened his grip on your arm. “But, you know, if you wanna go get your rocks off with one of them…” he motioned with his chin towards the pool table, “I can’t stop ya I guess.”

Pulling your arm completely free, you knew the whiskey was making you be harsher with him than you intended. But the feelings you’d carried for Dean all this time were starting to really affect you.

“Yeah, you’ve been real clear with that Dean. That’s why every case we work, you save the damsel in distress, right? Every case… you are flirting and eyeing some bimbo.”

“Mhm, and why do you think I do that? Flirting gets results, sweetheart. And, mister puppy dog eyes over there can’t seem to pull it off without getting all flustery.”

“So, you flirt for your job?”

“I do. We do what we have to in order to get the job done. Besides, I remember a werewolf hunt last month where you nearly went home with one of our suspects… that was real fun to watch by the way.”

Suddenly it hit you. Why he’s been so distant with you, so sarcastic. Dean wasn’t exactly the poster boy for talking about feelings, and the ones you thought he might have had for you in the beginning really were there; he just had no idea how to let you know.

At the same time you felt angry. If he wanted you, he should have said something instead of wasting the several months you’ve been hunting together.

“You know something, Winchester. I hate you. You do nothing but infuriate me most of the time.”

“Same here, sweetheart. I guess that’s why we work so well together,” Dean’s brow furrowed as his hand slowly returned to your arm.

This time he touched you gently, caressing the flesh of your skin with his thumb as he cautiously pulled you towards him

“So, now… tell me again how you want to go over there and take some civilian home,” his voice was low and guttural and in that instant, there was no one else in the bar, but you and him.

“I… can’t,” the words fell from your lips in a whisper, causing him to smile smugly.

“Wanna get out of here?”

“What about Sam?”

Dean looked back over his shoulder at his brother who was currently smiling and chatting up a second bartender that had come onto her shift.

“I think he’s fine,” Dean said returning his electric gaze back at you.

  The hotel room door burst open with force as Dean pushed you through it. Before it was shut with the latch clicking closed, he was tearing off your shirt and bra, and burying his face into your neck. The feeling of his breath on you was pure bliss as the rough skin on his hands fell down your back towards your ass.

Lifting you up, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as his lips moved from your neck, down your chest to your breasts. Your head was spinning at the rush of him against you, as well as the whiskey still coursing through your veins.

Dean had you up against the wall before he lifted his eyes back to meet yours. He wanted to speak, but your eyes pleaded with him to not say whatever it was, in fear of the moment being ruined with rational thinking.

He got the hint and pressed a heated kiss to your lips, stealing the bit of breath you had. Dean bit your lower lip playfully before taking in as much of your tongue as he could; making you feel as though he may swallow you completely.

Dean kissed you as deeply and yet as slowly, as his desire would let him. Not wanting to let an ounce of you go untasted, he slowly walked you to the bed and laid you down on it. He swallowed thickly as he gingerly unbuttoned your jeans and slid them off and threw them to the side.

He went to work on removing his own shirt before lowering himself onto you. Wrapping your arms up around his shoulders, you could feel the hard swell of his cock through his jeans as it pressed into thigh.

“You still got far too many clothes on Winchester,” you purred, reaching down to unbuckle his belt.

Once it was undone, you palmed him through his pants, making him growl into your ear. The more pressure you applied to his hardon, the faster he struggled to remove the rest of his clothes. When they were finally tossed aside, he pawed at your panties and plunged his hand deep into your folds without warning.

“God damn woman,” Dean moaned, licking his lips before running his tongue and teeth up the length of your neck from collarbone to ear.

The tease of his fingers was enough to drive you crazy. Waiting as long as you had to have Dean in your bed had been maddening, but now that he was, and he was so close to being inside you, every second he made you wait was a new kind of torture.

“Dean… please…” you begged, arching your back up just to feel the throb of his dick near your pulsating sex. “Don’t you tease me.”

You felt his lips snarl into a smile as your hands clawed their way down his back, pushing him down into you.

“Oh, no sweetheart… not yet,” he teased as he reached around to remove your hands and pin them over your head with one of his.

Grabbing his member with his free hand, he ran it deliberately over your clit several times while assaulting your neck and chest with his mouth. Biting, licking and sucking your skin as if you were the only thing giving him life.

“Dean…”

The way his name fell from your lips was enough to break his own resistance and plunge deep inside of you. A sharp breath escaped your mouth; the heat of it on his skin elicited a primal grunt from the hunter.

The hand he had pinned your arms down with reluctantly let go as traveled down your body, finding your breasts and taking your nipple between his fingers. With your hands free, you found your strength and pushed him up and over onto his back before he could protest.

Repositioning yourself, you slowly began grind your hips on him and his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs. Dean’s eyes closed and his mouth fell open with heavy breaths as you writhed on top of him, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside you.

The faster you moved, he more painful his fingers dig into you, but you liked the agony of it. You could already feel yourself reaching your climax but didn’t want it to end. Slowing your waves against him, your bent down and kissed his mouth. His arms snaked up into your hair and pushed your mouth down harder onto his while still greedily thrusting into you.

He sat up suddenly, pulling you into him and burying his face into your breasts. The swift change in position was all it took for your walls to fluttered against his dick, constricting on him as you hit your climax.

“Fuck!” he growled into you as his hands wrapped around you tighter, letting himself go just as you did.

It felt as though it was over before it started, but every second he had been touching you, inside of you, kissing you… was worth every second you waited for him.

His skin has a light coating of sweat that tasted salty as you pressed your lips against his shoulder. Feeling him continued to shudder against you, you lightly grazed your teeth against the flesh and smiled to yourself when he shivered.

Pulling himself back from you, he brushed the hair from your face and smiled. “Well if I knew it could be that good I would’ve done something bout this a long time ago,” he said, the corner of his lips twitching into a smile.

“Yeah, once again, you’re right,” you teased, leaving a soft kiss against his mouth. “But, uh, now that you know… what do we do about it?”

Gingerly climbing off his lap and laying down next to him, Dean rested his head on the pillow next to you and traced the line of your neck down to your shoulders, coming to rest on the soft swell of your hips.

“Well, first. We’re gonna shower. Then, we’re gonna order some room service and check on Sammy. Then, we’re gonna do it again. And again. And probably again.”

“We’re gonna shower? As in together?”

“Yes. Yes, that is exactly what we are gonna do,” Dean said and sprang up suddenly.

Despite your playful protests, Dean picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, heading towards the bathroom.

Placing you down in the tub, he turned on the hot water and stepped in with you.

“So, this plan… this ok with you?”

“Best one you came up with today,” you said nonchalantly, running your fingers up his now wet chest.

“Hey.. hey. My plan worked for the vamps. Not my fault you and Sam didn’t see any action,” he raised his brows as you spiritedly punched his arm.

“Next time, we go in together.”

Dean softened his gaze and brushed a thumb against your cheek. “From now on, we do it all together.”

Tags: @sorenmarie87 @soythedemonqueen @kazosa @redm81 @somanyfandomstochoosefrom @lefthologramdeer  

[falling-stars-and-open-scars]

Weigh-in and Rambling

Wtf?! I weighed myself this morning and apparently I’m down to 282 (please keep in mind that my SW was 290 as of December 27th). I’m both really happy and also really skeptical because, ya know, good things can’t happen to me. Lol. 

I noticed that, prior to this weight loss journey, I was usually eating 2,000 calories a day (whether I was working/physically active or not). Sometimes it’d be a little more than 2,000 for a day (2,100 or so), other times it would be 1,900 or so. What I have done recently is try to reduce my calorie intake to 1,200 a day (because, for some reason, that’s what I recall being told I needed when I was a teenager in high school; I’m in my 30s now so......yeah. >_> )

Anyway, I’m keeping it at 1,200 while ALSO trying to increase my protein intake while ALSO trying to avoid more than 20 grams of carbs a day. (@_@ That’s not complex or anything....not like almost errrthing has carbs. Ugh. Lol.)

So, in combination with that guideline; I am also working as a kennel attendant at a veterinary clinic. That means I’m taking care of dogs and cats of various sizes (and temperament) -- making sure they get fed, potty time outside, bathed and groomed, get up to date on vaccinations, and making sure they have a clean place to hang out in (which means scooping a LOT of poop and overall general housecleaning; god there’s SooooooooooOOOO much laundry!). There’s lots of bending, lifting, and twisting going on in my day; not to mention having to go up and down the stairs anytime the techs and vets need help or if the receptionists need some food carried upstairs (could be a stack of cans, could be a 27 pound bag of food, could be any combination thereof). So needless to say, I’m pretty active most days. I’m not entirely sure how many calories I burn in a single day as most weight loss apps don’t have a specific section for kennel/veterinary work and I do not own a Fitbit or any variation of that (though I wish I did).

I’m also going to be going back to school next week. I’m planning on getting into a Health Information Management program that’ll help me get into medical billing and coding (more money doing that than kennel work and better overall job outlook). So I’ll be walking around campus too. 

PLUS, I’ve been doing a little bit (like maybe 15 minutes worth) of Ring Fit Adventure on the Nintendo Switch once a week. Because of my size and age, my knee joints hurt a lot so even doing 15 minutes of Ring Fit is rough for me. But I know over time it’ll get easier/better. (I WILL be flexible!! one day....some day...>_>) 

I’m wanting to lose weight for a number of reasons. The easiest answer I can give is :Oh, I want to do it for my health so my joints and body don’t hurt as much anymore. But.......the more truthful (and more complicated) answer is: that I don’t like my body and I haven’t in a very long time. I’ve always been the “big best friend”. I’ve never been the “smoking hot sexy girlfriend”. I’ve been called “cute” at best and....it hurts. Because I can see and hear how people react to my “best friend” and how many guys compliment her all the time and how they’re all basically falling over themselves to get with her (even though she’s honestly vain as all get out; I’m actually starting to open my eyes and see her toxic behaviors and attitudes more clearly now). Physically, she’s actually healthy, if not maybe SLIGHTLY overweight; whereas I am considered obese (if not morbidly obese). 160 (maybe even less ) at age 25 is better than almost 300 at age 30. :(

And it just sucks because she’ll refuse to eat because she’s “fasting” and everyone will freak out and be like “OMG, gurl  you haven’t ate since breakfast today, you needs to eaaaat!” And it’s like, no matter what she does, she ALWAYS has SOME kind of attention on her. And she’s ALWAYS had that, in fact she CRAVES it because that’s how she’s been brainwashed by her family and her community. It’s like, for her, it’s a million times better to be considered skinny and pretty than it is to have any sense of individuality or personality or intelligence. Better to be the bimbo trophy wife of some backwoods dipsh*t than to be a woman of her own making who is confident in her own self and who has chosen her own path in life rather than falling back on outdated 1950s style of thinking.

So, in short, I want attention. I want to be desired. I want to be looked at with admiration - not pity, or even worse, ignored completely [because no one wants to hear what the fat chick has to say, even if it makes absolute sense; No, no, let’s hear what Basic B*tch Barbie has to say; she’s pretty so we should listen to her!]. I want to have both beauty and brains. And I do honestly want my body to be in a better condition because I know that IF I decide to start a family, my body (as it currently stands) will make it harder. 

Also, I want to STOP apologizing because people have to squeeze past me sometimes. I want to STOP feeling like I take up more room than I actually do. I want to STOP feeling like I’m a huge round planet in a teeny tiny solar system. I want to STOP feeling like my fat existence is an inconvenience to others. 

Deep down I want to finally feel good, for once.

And so far, it’s working. 

Thanks for letting me ramble.

[theworstbob]

yellin’ at songs: week thirty-five

brief reviews of the songs which debuted on the billboard hot 100 the weeks of 6 september 1997, 8 september 2007, and 9 september 2017

9.6.1997

7) "Barbie Girl," by Aqua

I don't have anything constructive or novel to say about this song. It's the same Europe dance garbage we've been listening to this whole time, but now it's tuggin' at the ol' nostalgia what with how it references a beloved childhood toy. I do love how uniquely German the line, "Come on in, bimbo friend!" is, but that's about the only good thing in this song. Otherwise, it's a horrible song that has been bad to listen to for 20 years.

18) "Building a Mystery," by Sarah McLachlan

This goes several orders of magnitude harder than I ever remembered. I mean, we're adjusting to Sarah McLachlan's scale, this is still gentle for most people, but this almost has an edge. That's an electric guitar in this song, and I didn't know Sarah McLachlan was capable of saying the f-word! I like what this song was able to do even if it remained solely in the adult-alternative confines in which Sarah McLachlan typically keeps herself. I'd say the revisit ended up being worth it, even if it wasn't a revisit I would've made were I not doing this.

27) "I Miss My Homies," by Master P ft./Pimp C & The Shocker

...Do I suddenly appreciate the production value of "I'll Be Missing You." Is this how bad this song is. That it has me looking back fondly on "I'll Be Missing You." First of all, Master P is garbage on this track. His flow in his verse is "drunk dude trying to do an improv rap," and he keeps going "unnnnh" throughout the song, because as sad as we are at our friends dying, you need to keep brand engagement going. Like, Pimp C and Slikk don't change history, but they do things with their voices that aren't easily replicated. Master P seems to equate "being sad" with "talking slowly." Plus, like, as dumb as the "Every Breath You Take" sample is, that imbues "I'll Be Missing You" with far more energy and passion than this generic synth-strings and drum-beat track does. This beat sounds like a dude playing a Casio in his basement. This song that was probably written from a place of real emotion is the absolute pits.

43) "You Should Be Mine (Don't Waste Your Time)," by Brian McKnight ft./Mase

Ma$e was ahead of his time, in a way. Obviously, he's an incredibly basic rapper, so he's not ahead of his time in that particular sense. When you think of today's rappers, though, or at least those rappers which are popular on Billboard, and how they sort of passionlessly mushmouth for a few minutes at a time, you can't help but think that Mase would clean the hell up in this era. This song is a really fun if slight R&B jam, and Mase just sort of shows up and goes "enh," and in 2017 this is the hottest feature of the year.

77) "Need Your Love," by Big Bub ft./Queen Latifah & Heavy D

I fuckin' love this. This dude's voice has this insane quality I'm not anywhere near qualified enough to try to describe, it, I dunno, it's like this shovel digging a hole to my heart? And I love how simple this track is, pretty much just a guitar and drums with the occasional bass note, the traditional '90s strings only kicking in near the end. This is the sort of song I'd just put on repeat and let take me away if I ever found myself in the middle of a bad day, it's this intensely chill and uncomplicated thing, and sometimes, uncomplicated can be great.

88) "We Can Get Down," by Myron

i also could do crystal meth, but then i think... nah, better not "I'll be there for you physically, mentally" okay don't fucking lie to the girl just because it fits the rhyme scheme. You are solely here for the physical. This song is called "We Can Get Down," not "We Can Debate the Meaning of Our Favorite Poems Whilst Enjoying Some Sliced Fruit." Mentally. Man, no one listening to this song is thinking, "Just wanna get inside that big ol' thinker of his! What does this man repeatedly informing us that getting down is an option have to say about the important issues in politics and culture?"

89) "Butta Love," by Next

Given that these dudes are eventually going to make a song about wanting a girl to dance further away from them because they're getting an erection, it's disappointing that this is just a standard '90s R&B slow jamz that only mentions butter in passing, or isn't secretly about buttsex. There is a line in the song, "Just hit me on my hip baby," that I had to stare at for five minutes to figure out what that might mean before I realized that was a sexy reference to pagers, and that made me smile, and I guess getting hard is a recurring theme in Next's work with how they sing "You've got those sexy eyes/Enticing thighs/You make me rise" so that's fun to find out, but this was a disappointingly staid song about wanting to fuck a hot woman.

90) "In a Dream," by Rockell

And 1997 ends where it begins: awful dance music I never want to think about ever fucking again. Very impressive storytelling, you always want the end to call back to the start just to reinforce the themes.

9.8.2007

76) "Fabulous," Ashley Tisdale & Lucas Grabeel

It is so perfect that this song had to appear on the Hot 100 on a week that no other HSM2 song debuted. Also it ends with a "not" joke. Thank you for this.

85) "I Get Money," 50 Cent

One of the things I didn't understand about Super Smash Bros. Melee was what the point of secret characters was if they would just be copies of a different character that moved slightly differently. Like, if Ganondorf had the same moveset as Captain Falcon but just moved slower, was Ganondorf really his own character? I sort of get the same feeling listening to "I Get Money" after "Fabulous." This is just "Fabulous" in a hoodie. Fiddy wants fabulous, that is his simple request, and Ashley Tisdale wants money. Man, I can't believe this album didn't manage to outsell Graduation, wonder what 50 Cent could have done better, aside from making songs that weren't shitty versions of HSM2 songs?

9.9.2017

20) "Friends," by Justin Bieber + BloodPop

I dunno, I guess this is okay. This is a Joey of a song -- I'm having fun with it as something that's happening while I'm trying to do something I'm interested in, but I wouldn't want to have like a whole thing of this. Justin Bieber does his usual thing where he doesn't get in the way but doesn't add anything unique or distinct or... anything, he doesn't do anything on this song, one day we're going to figure out the day we stopped asking our singers to be able to hit notes. Y'all are asking me to evaluate Justin Bieber the same week I evaluated Big Bub. Nah, man. Every single dude R&B singer is a better vocalist than the best male vocalist in 2017. I mean, I know we're coming to these songs for vibes and drops and not for technical vocal proficiency, we made this choice when we made Tay Tay a pop star, but how are Justin Bieber and Bryson Tiller the only vocalists we're asking to carry pop songs in 2017? They're boring!

34) "I Get the Bag," by Gucci Mane ft./Migos

What a delightful song with a dazzling array of lyrical twists with a distinct song quite unlike anything either artist has put out to this point! What a treat, to he -- I am being informed I decided to listen to "Need Your Love" again. Fine. Fine. ...The only reason this song exists is if you hear a Migos song you're really into and want to listen to again but are too far away from your Device to hit the repeat button.

77) "Look What You Made Me Do," by Tay Tay

Because of the way YAS is set up, and also because I’ve been taking an extra day to write YAS for reasons that are not completely “gets too distracted by link to the past randos” but are pretty much just “gets too distracted by link to the past randos,” everything that can be said about this song has been said, and Tay Tay’s public perception has gone from legit pop queen to Nazi Idol, which is a hell of a fall. And you’d think that this was just the media waiting to pile on Tay Tay because she’s had positive coverage for so long and it’s Her Turn as it was for all pop stars before her, except this song is legitimately terrible. It’s indefensibly bad. It’s either about a feud she already won, a response song to “Swish, Swish” being completely unnecessary when you already had “Bad Blood,” or it’s about a feud in which she was so clearly and incredibly in the wrong! This song is just unnecessary, especially since it doesn’t actually do anything. The verses sound kinda cool, they have this sparse production I’m sort of into, but they build into Tay Tay saying, “Look what you made me do” and nothing more. And hey. Tay Tay? Never a compelling vocalist! Can’t pull off the spoken word, to no one’s surprise! It sounds less like a deposed Maleficent crashing the christening and taking the kingdom and more like a teen who’s sort of miffed that their parents wouldn’t let them buy Maleficent-branded merchandise at the mall Hot Topic. This song isn’t failing, but my gosh, does it ever deserve to. If there were any justice, Tay Tay would have announced her country comeback an hour ago, but because of this era where brand loyalty rules the day in pop music (you come up with a better reason why DJ Khaled is a legit pop star), Tay Tay’ll be fine.

79) "Younger Now," by Miley Cyrus

Again, it's really cool that Miley Cyrus, an unfathomably rich person, has found inner peace. I am very invested in the journey of this sympathetic character. You don't see good things happen to rich people that often. So happy for Miley. What an emotional journey, going from a rich child to a rich person who did drugs to a rich person who used to do drugs.

80) "It's Every Night Sis," by RiceGum ft./Alissa Violet

...I can't claim to say I never wanted YouTubers to rap. I own two Starbomb albums. Clearly, I wanted this to happen. But I just, I take back the bad things I've said about Master P, trap rap, and mumble rap in this and these posts, because my god, listening to these children is honestly the worst. I hate this.

53) "Roll in Peace," by Kodak Black ft./XXXTentacion 82) "Transportin'," by Kodak Black 90) "Questions," by Chris Brown

Wow! Over already? Well, that time just flew right on by! Good post, y'all! I feel like we accomplished a lot today, and now we're ready to find out...

Who won the week?

It is 1997 because 1997 is the only year that gave me a song I immediately loved.

2017: 12 1997: 12 2007: 11

Next week, 1997 gives us Mariah Carey, Beck, Chumbawumba, and Shaquille O’Neal. 1997 is complicated.