#yes the do get a funnel cake

[batty4steddie]

Sugar Coated

Prompt: Cake | WC: 311 | Rated: G | For @steddiemicrofic | Written in partnership with @cndian ❤️ “Dude, your mouth is watering.” Steve knew it was because of the funnel cake stand. The scent of freshly fried dough topped with powdered sugar was invading his senses too. “Don’t worry, we’re totally going to get one later. First, we’re gonna ride that rollercoaster that looks like it could kill us!”

Eddie glanced longingly at the glistening scoop of sugared strawberries getting topped onto someone’s funnel cake, along with a generous squirt of chocolate sauce. Still, he allowed himself to be tugged in the direction of the fair’s newest rollercoaster. The air was buzzing with music, chatter and excitement.

Steve’s hand was warm in his. Eddie interlocked their fingers so they wouldn’t get separated in the densely packed crowd, but that was a poor excuse – it was because he wanted to and because holding Steve’s hand made his stomach do more loop-di-loops than the coaster.

He smiled. “Alright, man. First one to scream or upchuck pays, and I am getting all the toppings if you’re paying.”

“I’m not planning on doing either, but of course I’m paying. You can get whatever you want, per usual, sweetheart.”

Eddie had Steve wrapped around his finger, but he also liked making him wait and work for things before he spoiled the hell out of him. Steve liked making him suffer a little. Eddie’s frustrated face was so cute. Steve only let go of Eddie’s hand so they could get into the rollercoaster.

Leave it to Steve to be an absolute sweetie pie when Eddie was a brat. “What a gentleman.”

Once they were seated, Eddie leaned over and gave Steve’s cheek a big, noisy smooch right as the ride attendant came over to secure their restraints. Eddie giggled demonically at the dirty look the attendant gave them as he left and blew him a kiss too, turning it into a middle finger.

[moonstruckme]

hiiii please could i request plus size shy reader being asked out on a date and getting anxious it’s a joke (it’s not). i would LOVE this with steve or james but i love everyone you write for so i don’t mind if you’d rather choose another character! have a lovely day/night! 🫶🏻

Thanks for requesting my love!

cw: implied insecurity around size

Steve Harrington x shy!plus size!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You can feel sweat on the insides of your thighs. Every step you take chafes. Between the heat and your nerves you think you probably look about as shiny as a glazed donut, and you worry that if you lift a hand in front of your face you’ll find it shaking. 

You don’t actually know what you’re doing here. 

When Steve asked you to meet him at the fair, your yes was automatic. He was all brown eyes and gentle features, the apple of his throat bobbing at the tail end of the question, and you hadn’t known any quicker way to get away from all that than simply agreeing and ducking into the kitchen to grab an imaginary order. Whether you actually wanted to go out with him was irrelevant, though of course you did. You still do, you think. 

But later, you’d remembered who he was. Not just Steve, who comes into your work and downs chocolate milkshakes like he’s in some sort of competition while tossing you sugary smiles that make it impossible for you to remember anyone’s orders, but Steve Harringon. King of the gum-popping populars when you’d all been in high school, who publicly degraded Nancy Wheeler just for breaking up with him and who has since been rumored to date a rotation of Hawkin’s most model-esque girls. He would know how to flirt with a girl like you. Might do it just for a laugh. Might even ask you on a phony date simply to humiliate you when you thought it was real. 

And now you’re here, looking sweat-glazed and lost in the middle of the crowd, feeling like a complete fucking loser. Well done, King Steve. 

“Hey!” 

You’re not sure if it’s worse to stay, and slowly reconcile with the fact that you’ve been duped, or leave and have to face him at work the next time he comes in. Quitting your job is starting to sound like a tempting option. 

“Hey!” 

You nearly jump out of your skin when a sure hand lands on your shoulder, and a second later Steve is rounding you with that half-quirked smile of his. His face is cast pink by the neon light of the sign you’re standing in front of. 

“Sorry,” he says, “I was gonna wait at the front, but the line for tickets was getting long so I figured I’d better get in there and grab ours.” He holds up a hand, fanning the two tickets out. 

“Oh.” The word comes out of you on a breath. Steve leans in to hear you better, not a flicker of pique in his expression for your soft voice in this loud atmosphere. “That’s smart.” 

His eyes crinkle as though you’ve said something funny, his hand dropping from your shoulder as he gives a one armed shrug. You’d forgotten it was there and yet you miss it instantly. “Well, thanks. Some people say I can be that, every now and then.” 

You feel your eyes go wide. “Oh, no, sorry, of course you’re smart,” you say in a rush. “I didn’t mean to sound surprised, I was just…” 

“I get it.” The pink light softens the teasing in Steve’s look into something even sweeter. You feel your face warm. “Do you wanna grab a funnel cake or something?” 

“Why…” You’re suddenly conscious again of your sweaty thighs, the way your sundress cuts into your middle and leaves the skin of your wide shoulders on display. “Why would I want that?” 

Steve looks confused, his smile lingering but faint. “I dunno, do you? I’m starving, I haven’t eaten since lunch. We could have whatever, though, if you’ve got something against funnel cake.” 

You blink, the flame of apprehension that had flared in your chest sputtering back down to an ember. “No, sorry,” you say, befuddled once again. What does he want with you? When and where will the other shoe drop? “I like funnel cake.” 

Steve pays for the both of you and you’re too dazed to stop him, still reeling from the hand he placed on your back to guide you through the crowd and seems in no hurry to remove. It rests just above the waistline of your dress, gentle but definitively there, radiating warmth through the fabric. When he does remove it, it’s to sit down beside you at the picnic table so you can eat, one form of contact replaced by another as his jeans press into your bare leg and you try not to spiral out. 

“These things are a disaster for me,” he says, breaking off another piece of funnel cake with his fingers. His chin and the front of his shirt are already covered in a light dusting of powdered sugar, which is somehow more endearing than offputting. You’re currently suppressing the mortifying urge to wipe it off and lick your finger. “I love fried food, and I go even crazier for sugar, so the combination is just—God.” He shakes his head, looking blissed out in the same way you recognize from when he’s half done with a milkshake. “If you don’t want to see me again after this, I’m gonna have a really hard time staying away from your work. I’ll be screwed.” 

You stare at him. Why would he be affected by how you feel about tonight? If anything, the need to avoid Steve Harrington should drive you out of town. Guys like him can do whatever they want. If he told everyone that he’d never even spoken to you and you were making this date nonsense up for attention, that would probably be more readily believed than what seems to be happening here. 

“Jesus Christ.” Steve has discovered the powdered sugar spillage down his front. He dusts off his shirt and does exactly what you’ve been wanting to, using his fingers to wipe his face and then sucking the sugar off them one by one. He looks almost sheepish when he meets your eyes, in a boyish, humorous way. “Sorry, Robin always says I eat like a fucking animal.”

“You’re good,” you assure him. “It’s kind of impossible to avoid with powdered sugar, right?” You actually had managed to avoid it, by leaning over the little paper tray as you ate, but that’s beside the point. “You think you might want to go out again?” 

It’s blunt, not like you, and if you’d taken more than two milliseconds to think it through you know you wouldn’t have asked. Your cheeks burn. 

Steve’s brows furrow with his thumb still in his mouth, and he tilts his head like a puppy. “That’s kind of the point of dates, right?” he asks, sounding halfway between confusion and amusement. “I mean, ideally, you usually want to go out more than once.” 

“Right.” Now you’ve managed to make yourself sound like an idiot. On top of being several sizes bigger and decibels quieter than most of the other girls Steve goes out with, now you’re an airhead as well. “That makes sense, sorry.” 

“You don’t need to keep saying you’re sorry.” Steve smiles lopsided and sweet, and you can’t find even a trace of the infamous King Steve in it. Maybe in the round apple of his cheek, or the easy way he leans on the table, but not in the warmth of the look he’s giving you. The ones he’s been giving you, unreciprocated and largely mistrusted, for weeks now. “Look, we don’t have to worry about that stuff tonight. You can figure out if you think I’m worth another shot after we’re done here, and if you decide to give me a lifetime ban from your work, I’ll get it. Let’s just have fun for now, right?” 

You bite the inside of your lip, considering the soft brown of his eyes, the tiny bit of powdered sugar he’s missed just by the corner of his lips. Let’s just have fun.

“Okay,” you say. Something new and light flickers in your chest at his answering grin. “Where do you wanna start?”

[fluentmoviequoter]

Pictures of You

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!artist!reader

Summary: While patrolling the fairgrounds, Lucy convinces Tim to have their picture drawn. She doesn't expect you, Tim's wife, to be the artist.

Warnings: fluff! mention of a bomb threat

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

“Why are you acting like you’re being punished? This is fun!” Lucy exclaims.

“Feels like a punishment,” Tim mutters, not slowing down as he looks around while he walks. “Fairground duty is not my idea of a good time, Chen.”

“What do you have against fun and showing you have a personality, Bradford?”

“If you’re having so much fun, why don’t you focus on that instead of me? You just do your thing, and I’ll do my job.”

Lucy groans but continues walking through the endless rows of booths. There’s food, games, face painting, vendors, and more local artists than she can count. Tim keeps his eyes on the people rather than the entertainment, only looking away when his phone rings.

“Bradford,” he answers.

“Bradford, how’s it going?” Wade asks. “We haven’t seen any indication that the threat was legitimate at any of the other venues.”

“Someone called in a fake bomb threat? Who could imagine such a thing,” Tim answers with his unique blend of sarcasm and grumpiness. “I haven’t seen anything here other than the usual suspicious individuals that show up for cheap booze and carnival rides.”

“It’s not a carnival!” Lucy interjects. “If you’re going to hate on it, at least hate on it correctly.”

“Sounds like you’re having a good time,” Wade teases. “Keep an eye out, the day isn’t over yet.”

“Yes, sir,” Tim answers.

“Oh, and one more thing, Bradford. Loosen up and have a little bit of fun for once, would you?”

“And risk finding out that the bomb threat was legitimate, no thanks. Bye, Grey.”

“Tim, look!” Lucy squeals. “Caricatures! Can we please get one?”

“We are on the clock, boot.”

“I’m going to ignore the ‘boot’ comment and simply remind you that I am no longer a rookie, but I’ll let it slide. I’ll say please again.”

“No deal. We’re here for work, Chen, not to get temporary tattoos or eat funnel cake.”

“You like funnel cake?”

Tim glares at Lucy before saying, “Not the point.”

“Tim,” she groans, tilting her head back. “What did Wade say?”

“To keep an eye out.”

“And to have fun?”

Tim doesn’t answer, and Lucy bounces in place.

“One booth,” Tim concedes. “And then we’re going back to foot patrol. Don’t forget why we’re here.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Lucy answers, mock saluting him before she hurries to the first booth in a row of artists. “Are you more of a ten-minute portrait or a caricature guy? Do you know the difference?” she asks when Tim joins her side.

“You pick. But you only have five minutes before I leave, whether the picture is done or not.”

Lucy nods enthusiastically before she begins walking. She slows down to look in several booths while Tim keeps an eye out for anyone matching the description from the call this morning.

“This one,” Lucy decides before pushing Tim into the empty tent.

“Hi,” Tim greets.

You look up from the sketchpad in your lap and smile. “Hello, officers,” you greet. “How can I help you?”

“Hi! We want a caricature,” Lucy answers. “Oh, and I’m Lucy and this is Tim; we’re off the clock for a few minutes, so we wanted to have some fun.”

“We’re not off the clock, boot,” Tim grunts.

“Boot?” you inquire. “You’re a rookie?”

“Not anymore, he’s just grumpy and doesn’t understand how much fun I can be.”

“Well, Lucy, what kind of fun would you like to have? I can do, or at least try, just about anything you’re interested in. Though if you want a portrait in ninety seconds or less, there is a guy down this row that can do that.”

“Are they any good?” Lucy asks quietly.

You shake your head before gesturing toward two seats on the other side of your canvas.

“I’m giving you free reign, but if you can make it kinda caricature-like, I wouldn’t be opposed,” Lucy says.

Looking over at Tim, you decide what you want to do. The wedding ring on your fingers glints as you reach for a marker, and Tim’s eyes drop as he watches your hand before meeting your eyes.

“I’m going to regret this,” Tim grumbles.

“Tim, be nice,” Lucy scolds under her breath. She sends you an apologetic look, but you only smile.

“I’m used to it,” you promise.

“Lots of unwilling models?”

Turning your attention to your paper, you shake your head. “Officer Bradford, care to explain?”

“Lucy, this is my wife,” he says reluctantly before saying your name.

“Wait. Oh my gosh, I have so many questions!” Lucy responds.

“You only have four minutes, so make everything quick before I send you to check the portable restrooms,” Tim snaps.

“Tim,” you warn.

“Bradford?” someone asks from outside your booth.

You chuckle as Tim closes his eyes. He rubs a finger over his left ring finger, and you smile when his eyes return to you.

“Officer Thorsen, good to see you,” you greet.

“Hey, Mrs. Bradford,” he replies. “Makes a whole lot more sense now.”

“You didn’t think Tim would willingly have his picture drawn?”

“Aaron, you knew?” Lucy asks. “I knew Tim was married, but- Tim, why didn’t you introduce me?”

“I actually met Aaron on accident while I was at the station once,” you offer, adding the finishing touches to the caricature.

Aaron steps to your side, pressing his lips together to hide his smile before he radios for all nearby officers to meet at your booth.

“Thorsen, you just saved Chen from a long afternoon of checking the backside of this event,” Tim interjects.

“Worth it,” Aaron responds happily.

“Bradford?” Nolan asks as he approaches. “Oh, you got a caricature! Can we see?”

A small crowd gathers in your booth: your models, Aaron, Nolan, Celina, and two other officers wait to see your picture.

“You told Aaron to call for backup for when you get mad at me, right?” you joke, winking at Tim.

You smile at Lucy before turning the board around so they can see the finished picture. Tim remains impassive, but Lucy laughs, leaning backward as the other officers yell in surprise before laughing so hard tears come to their eyes.

“Who’s the boot now, Bradford?” Lucy asks through her laughter.

The picture of Tim as a cowboy boot with a police badge and Lucy as a puppy in a police uniform goes over well with every cop in the booth.

“I’m getting you back for this,” Tim says. “Both of you.”

“Don’t threaten civilians, Bradford,” Nolan chides.

“Don’t threaten your wife!” Aaron amends.

Celina and Nolan leave first, and soon you, Tim, and Lucy are alone in the booth again. Lucy happily takes the picture, holding it against her chest as she watches Tim.

“We got a bomb threat this morning,” Tim says softly. “So, if you want to head out early, I’ll be home as soon as my shift ends.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to pose for your own copy?” you ask.

“If you want to draw me, just ask,” Tim replies as he stands. “But we both know who’s on every page of that sketchbook.”

“Who?” Lucy asks.

“Me,” Tim answers. At the same time, you say, “Kojo.”

Tim rolls his eyes and snatches it from your side. He laughs as he sees the most recent picture of Kojo. After he flips a page, though, he’s met with a picture of him. Lucy coos, immediately commenting on how cute the two of you are.

“Let’s go, boot. A word about this, and I’ll have you assigned to cavity searches,” Tim says as he steers Lucy out of your booth. He turns back to you to add, “I love you. I’ll see you at home.”

“I love you,” you answer. “And don’t be too hard on her, I drew the picture after all.”

“You’ve got ring immunity,” he says, pointing to your wedding ring. “So, I make no promises.”

“Tim!” Lucy yells. “There’s funnel cakes!”

Tim rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose as he steps away from you. You laugh as he waves over his shoulder, glad you got to see him, even if he will be teased about it for a while.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: A Day at the Fair

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: You make a new friend.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Ten bucks for a game?” Bucky curls his lip at the sign. 

You giggle around the mouthful of dissolving spun sugar. You gulp and sigh, “oh, you’re such and old man, sometimes.” 

“Ten bucks!” He exclaims again, waving a hand.  

“In my day...” You say in unison with him and he stops abruptly. He squints as you turn and walk backwards with him through the fairgrounds. “And predictable.” 

His blue eyes dull in irritation. “Maybe the world is predictable, huh? And I’m just reacting to it.” 

“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” you chime and twirls your cotton candy. “Have some, it’s yummy.” 

“I told you not to get that. It’ll give you a stomach ache.” 

“I’m an adult. I can do what I want.” You retort. “I’m gonna get a candy apple and a funnel cake and oooh, do they have those big baked pretzels?” 

“You’re going to get sick.” 

“That’s half the fun,” you smile and your heel catches on a rise in the ground, heavy rubber mats spread to hide thick wires. Bucky’s quick. So quick it makes you dizzy. He catches you and sets you right, sharply spinning you ahead. 

“You need to watch where you’re going,” he girds. 

You just laugh again, “aw, but I got you around to save me.” You put your feet right and fall back into step. “So you’re too cheap to win me that purrito stuffy, so I’ll just do it myself--” 

“I’m not cheap.” 

“Not at all,” you agree with a grin. He stops and face you. You look up at him and take another bite of spun sugar. 

“You are the worst,” he says as he digs in his pocket and twists on his heel, “fine, one purrito coming up.” 

He marches back to the shooting game and greets the man in his striped shirt. He pays for his go and picks up the rifle. He gives you a look before he raises the but to his shoulder. His posture is confident, if not bored. 

The pings come in fast succession. You don’t have a minute to count them but he stops before the rifle clicks, knowing exactly how many he’s fired. All in the centre of the bullseye. He flips the gun and hands it back to the work.  

“A purrito, whatever that is,” he demands. 

The fair employee gapes at him as he accepts the gun. He blinks then glances at the target again. His eyes rove back to Bucky and he frowns as he notices Bucky’s metal hand. 

“Dammit, I knew you looked familiar,” he grumbles and turns to take a purrito from the wall. He hands it over to Bucky who thanks him and turns to you.  

“It’s a cat... in a tortilla?” 

“Yes, a purrrrrrito,” you drag out the words. “Like a burrito but cuter.” 

He sighs, “of course.” 

“It’s so cute!” You wiggle it around gleefully, “I’m going to put it right in my room with all my others!” 

“Others?”  

“Oh, yes, I have a whole shelf of purritos. Big, small, calico, tabby... even a lion.” 

“Wow,” he mutters. 

“We all have collections. What about your cards? Hmm?” 

“Those are priceless. They’re baseball cards from the 1936 World Series. The Yankees won.” 

“Sounds important. I don’t really watch baseball,” you say. “But see? It’s your passion. You love those cards. You even put them in plastic. That’s kinda adorable. Means you care about them. Just like my purritos!” 

“Antique baseball cards are different from stuffed taco cats.” 

“Um, a burrito is not a taco,” you argue. 

“Don’t,” he points at you. “You always do this.” 

“Do what?” 

“You have to argue and then you put on that face--” 

“What face?” You pout. 

“Ah, quit.” 

“Fine,” you harrumph and tuck your prize under your arm. You tear off a piece of cotton candy and hold it out to him, “here.” 

“I told you--” he stops himself and accepts it. He eats it and lets out an ‘mmm’. 

“See, it’s good.” 

“It’s pure sugar.” 

“I know,” you agree triumphantly. “So, you wanna go on a ride? I like that big one!” 

You point with the empty cone and he tilts his chin up. “Sure, may as well get our money’s worth.” 

“Oh, fun! It’s going to be so scary.” 

“Scary?” Bucky snickers. 

“Not all of us jump out of planes, Mr. Avenger.” 

“Or sing and dance in frills,” he rebuffs. 

You roll your eyes. Your job isn’t the best but you get decent tips at the restaurant. Besides, you don’t exactly have the qualifications to save the world. Sometimes the distance between you, in more than age, is daunting. 

You pass a garbage can and toss the cone. You join the line for the ride and Bucky crowds in behind you between the metal barriers. You wait your turn as you bounce on your shoes and hug your toy. 

“I’m gonna name this one Mew-chanan. After you.” 

“Mew-- oh god.” He shakes his head as he connects the dots. “You’re so cheesy.” 

“And yet you’re still hanging out with me,” you smirk. 

You get to the front of the line and the work offers to hold the purrito. You hand him over and follow another to a seat. Bucky gets in next of you. You squeak as you’re locked into the seat and your insides begin to swim. You should’ve suggested the merry-go-round but you don’t want him to think you’re that lame. 

“My stummy—stomach!” You say as the ride starts to hum.  

“I told you about eating that--” 

Before he can finish, the ride lurches into action. Slow at first, rising and rising. The higher you get, the dizzier you are. As you get to the top, you latch onto his hand. You close your eyes and let out a long breath. 

“You okay?” He asks. 

You blink and look at him. Before you can answer, the ride drops at warp speed. A scream erupts from your chest and you close your eyes. It doesn’t last long but you’re breathless as you stop at the bottom. You squeeze Bucky’s hand as you tremble. You crush his fingers, his real fingers together. 

“Hey, Dreamy, it’s over,” he shakes your hand. 

“I know, I know,” you peel your eyes open. “That was... fun.” 

He watches you, his blue eyes almost cloudy. You open your hand and his thumb taps your knuckle before he turns his palm down. You blow out as the harness lifts from your chest. 

“Come on!” You hop out of the seat. “Let’s do another.” 

[steddiealltheway]

Part Four of Six of Meddling ;). Part One. Two. Three. Ao3 Link.

Steve gets in the back of Nancy’s car and barely listens as Robin rambles on, “Okay, so I was thinking we would go to the fair in town today but a little earlier to get at least a photo on the Ferris wheel. Just a selfie of you two kissing at the top, and maybe a few pictures of you guys playing the carnival games and eating a funnel cake. Gosh, I’ve been craving a funnel cake recently. So, let’s do games first, funnel cakes when we get our appetite back, and Ferris wheel last! Oh, and we can eat while we wait in the Ferris wheel line.” 

Steve, tunes back in for a moment and says without thinking, “You’re rambling.” 

Robin shoots him a look with wide eyes. “No, I’m not.” 

“Yes, you are. You always get rambly when you’re nervous. Why are you nervous?” Steve is not prepared for any more tricks hidden up her sleeve. 

“I’m not. I’m just excited for the funnel cake,” Robin explains, obviously lying. 

Steve shoots Eddie a look to see if the lying is clear to him too. But Eddie isn’t paying attention. He’s just staring off deep in thought. 

Steve slowly moves his hand to Eddie’s and laces their fingers together. Eddie breaks out of his thoughts momentarily to smile at him and squeeze his hand. Then, he’s looking out the window again, and the car becomes weirdly silent. 

Steve would text him if only Eddie didn’t get so motion sick when reading in the car. 

There’s tension radiating off of everyone as they approach the bright lights and carnival rides. Honestly, Steve would much rather go back home than to a fair to deal with whatever is happening. It feels like everything is either going to blow up in his face or magically turn into something great. 

Steve buys his and Eddie’s tickets as soon as they get to the stand. Then he rushes off with him, leaving the girls stuck buying their own tickets.

“Eddie, now is definitely not the right time to say this, but-” 

“Off to the ring toss!” Robin yells, tugging Steve’s hand and excitedly dragging him away with her. 

Christ. Always coming in at the wrong time. 

Steve reluctantly lets her drag him away, but soon, he’s focusing on winning Eddie a little yellow bat plush while Robin cheers him on. 

He eventually gets it and turns around to find that only Robin is with him. 

“Where are the other two?” 

Robin puts her hands up. “I don’t know. My bet is Nancy is at whatever game has those little water guns and Eddie’s with her. But hey,” she says as she gets closer to him. “I’m glad we have a moment to talk. Because I kind of need to tell you something.” 

Steve raises his eyebrow and crosses his arms. “That you’ve purposely meddled to get me to confess that I’m in love with Eddie, and you know that you didn’t have to go through all this effort for Veronica?” 

Robin bites her lip. “Okay, yes and no. But-” she stops and gasps. “Wait, did you just admit that you’re in love with Eddie?” 

Did he? Steve’s eyes widen. “Uh-” 

“Hey!” Nancy says and directs her gaze at Robin.

Steve runs a hand over his face. Why is the universe so cruel to him?

“I got you something,” Nancy says, holding out a weird looking red robin plush, and Steve nearly laughs. He’s pretty sure that Robin’s going to laugh at the clear joke, but she just looks at the little creature in awe and cradles it to her chest, telling Nancy that she loves it. 

What? 

“Hey,” Eddie says, and just like that, Steve forgets every single thought he’s ever had. 

“Hey,” Steve echoes. He looks down at his hands and realizes he has his own gift. “Here, I won this for you. Ring toss isn’t as hard as it looks.” 

Eddie stares at the little bat and glances back up at Steve. “Thank you,” he says sincerely, hands brushing Steve's as he takes the stuffed animal.

There’s a bright flash as Nancy’s camera goes off and ruins the moment. “Sorry, I need to adjust the settings. I must’ve nudged the knob.” 

Right. That’s why Eddie’s here with him. 

“Okay, darts! We all have to give it a shot. But I want a few pictures of Steve teaching Eddie how to throw them,” Robin announces, holding her hands up to make a rectangle as if framing the two together. 

“I thought you agreed to no more poses,” Steve states. 

“Let a girl dream,” Robin says as she races off to wherever she spotted the darts. 

Everything is going so damn fast, and Steve is slowly getting frustrated because he can’t put off this conversation any longer. 

He makes Robin and Nancy go first to try to get Eddie to himself.  

Robin has no sense of hand-eye coordination which makes the girls laugh and turn around to get Steve's and Eddie’s reaction every time she throws her darts. And considering that there are only three, the whole talking to Eddie plan goes up in the air. 

Maybe when Nancy... Steve flinches as two pops ring through the air and suddenly Nancy’s darts are out of her hand. Then, Nancy is asking for another small plush which she hands to Robin who gives it right back and insists that she keeps it. It’s cute and incredibly frustrating. 

Eddie leans in and whispers, “It’s okay. We have all the time in the world to talk eventually. For now, let’s enjoy ourselves, okay?” 

Steve turns to him and nods with a tight smile because he wants to talk now. 

But Eddie leans in and plants a kiss on his cheek that makes him feel like maybe he’s right, maybe they do have all the time in the world. 

“I bet I can beat you in darts,” Eddie says with a big smile as he collects his darts. 

Steve scoffs. There’s no way Eddie has better hand-eye coordination than him. So, Steve says, "Keep dreaming," then winks at him before throwing his dart. 

He misses.  

He shrugs it off thinking he’s just nervous about Eddie watching him. 

Eddie smiles at him victoriously but as he turns away, he gets a serious look on his face. Well, serious enough with his tongue poking out at the corner. Steve can’t help but stare at it with a fond smile. 

He startles when there’s a loud popping sound. Nancy and Robin cheer and Steve looks to where the dart sticks in the wall around the small remains of a balloon. 

Eddie smirks at him, and Steve rolls his shoulders back. Alright, time to get a little more competitive. He takes a deep breath and focuses on a pale yellow balloon before throwing the dart.

It pops. 

Eddie chuckles. “Of course you destroy the yellow one.” 

Steve nudges him in response. Eddie winks at him and turns to the balloons. 

Before he knows it, another balloon is popping.  

Steve’s jaw drops. He has to be cheating. 

He looks down at his last remaining dart and takes another deep breath. If he gets this, he has a chance at tying with Eddie. 

He focuses on another yellow balloon - just for Eddie - and tosses the dart. 

Robin whoops in celebration as it pierces the balloon. 

Steve smiles widely and leans toward Eddie. “I bet you won’t be able to make this next one.” 

Eddie raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Why are you so sure?” 

Steve shrugs with a smile. 

“I could do it with my eyes closed,” Eddie presses on. 

“Really?” Steve asks, stepping closer and getting in his face. 

“There’s not a single thing that could make me miss this last shot,” Eddie says overly confident, tilting his head slightly to the right. 

Steve leans closer until their noses are brushing. “Even if I kissed you?” 

Eddie raises his eyebrows. His left arm wraps around Steve’s waist and he tugs him closer, kissing him smoothly. 

It feels so right, and Steve is immediately melting.

Pop. 

The kiss ends quicker than Steve would like. He finds Eddie giving him a wicked smile before he pulls away, going to pick a large prize. 

“Holy shit,” Robin hisses behind Steve. 

That’s what wakes him up. He’s in public with Eddie. He still needs to talk to him. And Eddie just somehow threw and landed a dart on a balloon while kissing him. 

That is way hotter than he’s willing to admit. 

Eddie comes into sight with a large yellow teddy bear that he thrusts into Steve’s hand. 

“How’d you do that?” Steve asks. 

Eddie shrugs. “My dad used to take me to the bar with him. I played darts while he got wasted.” He shakes his head as if he’s trying to clear the memory away. 

“Eddie-” 

“I got some great pictures from that, so I think we’re ready for funnel cakes and the Ferris wheel,” Nancy announces and cocks her head toward the food stands. 

Steve shifts the teddy bear to his left side, freeing up his right hand to grab Eddie’s and squeeze it. He shoots him a sympathetic look before they take off after Nancy and Robin. 

Steve’s eyes widen when they get to the stands. It’s a Saturday afternoon, so the lines stretch a bit far. He can only imagine how long the wait for the Ferris wheel will be. 

He and Eddie turn to each other at the same time with similar horrified looks. 

“Come on!” Robin yells at them. 

Steve sighs and starts jogging toward the girls. Eventually, eventually he and Eddie will talk. 

-:-:-:-:-:-

The wait is pretty tolerable once Nancy puts her camera away and Robin stops bringing up the whole fake dating mess. And waiting for the Ferris wheel is great when he gets to watch Eddie make a mess of himself with all the powdered sugar on his funnel cake. Robin and Eddie unintentionally start to make a game of who can get more sugar on their face, hair, and... everywhere really.  

Nancy and Steve watch in amusement, not helping them indicate where they’ve got the white powder as they clean up with a single napkin. Once they get toward the front of the line, Steve carefully swipes at the sugar on Eddie’s cheek and somehow his eyebrow. Eddie closes his eyes and leans into the touch. 

“Next!” the attendant calls out. 

Robin and Nancy step forward into a pod and wave goodbye to the boys. 

“Next!” 

Steve walks forward and puts the teddy bear on the opposite side of the pod as Eddie climbs in and puts his little bat next to it. 

“They look cute together,” Steve comments. 

Eddie smiles at him tightly and looks like he’s about to throw up. 

Right, this is the first time they’re able to talk alone. 

“Eddie-” 

Eddie holds up his hand and takes a shaky breath as they begin to move. “I know we need to talk, and we will. But please not right now.” 

Steve’s heart breaks a little. He doesn’t even know what he’s done wrong. “Okay,” he says dejectedly. 

Eddie’s hand squeezes Steve’s arm. “Hey, no. No. It’s just...” he takes a deep breath as Steve turns to him. “This is probably a bad time to mention it, but I’m really scared of heights.” 

Steve can’t help but laugh. “Sorry, but didn’t you tell me all about how you used to love spending nights on top of your trailer staring at the stars?” 

“When I was high out of my mind!” Eddie says. 

Steve slips his arm around Eddie’s shoulders and glances at the people below them as they approach the side of the Ferris wheel. “Do you think anyone can see us up here?” 

Eddie shrugs. “I doubt anyone would want to, especially since looking up here is a sure way to let the sun blind you.” 

Steve leans in close to Eddie. “Then I know a way to distract you.” 

The look on Eddie’s face is priceless when he gets what Steve is saying. His eyes flicker down to Steve’s lips. “Just remember to get a picture when we’re at the top or the girls will kill us.” 

“Don’t worry, it goes around a few times.” 

“It does what?” Eddie squawks. 

Steve laughs loudly. “Didn’t you watch it go around any of the times while we were waiting?” 

“And see my impending doom? Yeah. No thanks,” Eddie says with wide eyes. He eventually smiles. “Besides, I had something better to look at.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, kissing Steve swiftly. 

Steve smiles a bit too much into it which makes it hard to kiss Eddie, but he wouldn’t change anything about it.  

He definitely needs to properly ask Eddie out... after he makes sure this isn’t just part of helping Robin with her Veronica situation. But Steve seriously doubts that’s why Eddie is doing all of this, especially with the way he’s kissing him right now. 

Steve reluctantly pulls away and glances out. They’re about one stop away from the top, so he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He smiles at the lock screen, opens the camera, and hands the phone to Eddie. “Here, you took the picture before and were able to focus enough to throw that dart. I think I would forget as soon as I kissed you,” Steve confesses. 

Eddie gives him a quick peck and hides his head in Steve’s neck. “I think I just looked out,” he groans. 

He squeezes onto Steve who kisses him on the head. “I’ve got you.” 

The ride slowly moves and stops again. Steve looks out and can’t help but admire the view for a moment. He looks straight down, and his stomach churns a bit. Yeah, he can understand Eddie’s fear. 

“Eddie,” he says gently, “Why don’t you keep your eyes closed while we’re up here? I can quickly kiss you and take the picture.” 

Eddie shakes his head and pulls back to look Steve in the eye. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’ve got you here.” He slowly glances out and takes their city in. He takes a breath and looks back at Steve. “Yeah, I never want to do this again.” 

“And that’s perfectly okay,” Steve states. “Once everyone is loaded on it’ll go around a few times, and it’ll be over.” 

Eddie nods and holds up his phone. “Let’s get this picture first.” 

The picture goes smoothly. At least, he hopes it does, because he’s deepening the kiss almost immediately. He can’t help himself when it comes to Eddie.  

He secretly hopes he left his live photos on. 

When the Ferris wheel starts moving, Eddie breaks away and buries his head into his neck. Steve smiles and holds him close, letting Eddie hold on tight and curse as much as he wants. 

Eventually the ride is over, and Eddie quickly jumps off, runs down the ramp, and dramatically falls to the ground to praise it. Steve just rolls his eyes and picks up their yellow prizes. He makes his way down the ramp at a speed a normal person would take and joins where Robin and Nancy are standing, looking down at Eddie. 

“Is he okay?” Nancy asks with concern and confusion in her expression.

Steve glances down to where Eddie is sprawled out on the ground and smiles. “Yeah, just a bit dramatic.” 

Eddie sits up and gasps. “I’m not dramatic!” 

“I can’t wait to tell Dustin that.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” 

Robin cuts them off. “I’m glad you two are having fun, but we need to discuss something.” 

That sounds serious. He gives Robin a look. 

“Oh, not serious! We were just wondering if you wanted to have the trial run dinner tonight? We would have Nancy act like Veronica and have you guys answer any question she has. After, we’d watch a movie then I was thinking about getting Chinese takeout for our real dinner?” 

“I’m down as long as Steve wears the sweater,” Eddie says still sitting on the ground. 

Steve rolls his eyes but answers, “Sounds good.” 

Yeah, they need to talk, but Eddie’s right. They have all the time in the world. Because really. What could go wrong with a trial run dinner? 

Part Five

Tag List:

@henderdads @little-gae-shit @dreamingtheimpossibe @leethegay @lazyavenuewhispers @olibxr @thegayestpersonever @heartsforhawke @estrellami-1 @messrs-weasley @evillitteguy @miss-hit @infrogulous @romanticdestruction @liz5100 @evix-syne666 @bebe07011 @corrodedseraphine @meganwinchester @manda-panda-monium @heartdinosblog @ellietheasexylibrarian @newtstabber @irregular-child @turboprops69 @envyadams-vs-me @dude-as-in-i-love-u @slv-333 @jillfriend

[sukunas-princess]

Can I please talk about Sukuna winning you a plushie at the fair? I wanna talk about Sukuna winning you a plushie at the fair. I didn't proofread this bc I just wanted it to leave my head bc i'm too busy dedicating all my active brain power to [redacted] and [redacted] au stories OK thnx

So Sukuna refused to go with you at a time when it was going to be packed because, well... people. So you had come up with the idea to go on a Sunday morning before it got too busy. And everything is going so nicely - there isn't a whole lot of people, but all of the games and food stalls and everything are still open, so you get to still enjoy everything.

And you're walking with him, holding onto one of his hands while his other hand is holding on to a funnel cake that is being brave trying not to crumple under his death grip because it's the first thing he's eaten today, and you squeeze his other hand stupidly tight and start whipping his arm around and he's like "JESUS CHRIST, WHAT!!!" and he's about to turn his funnel cake into a ninja star if he has to because man does not understand what's happening.

You use your hand (which is still in his, btw) to point at an absolutely enormous Doberman plushie dangling above one of the game stalls.

And through a mouthful of crunchy fried dough and powdered sugar he's like "I thought you saw a fucking wasp or something..."

But you're just looking at him like 🥺🥺🥺 and he's like "Yes?"

and you're like "I want it"

and he's like "You have so many plushies at home. You do not need more."

and you're like "Yeah, but I don't have a doberman!"

And as he finishes off his funnel cake, he's like "Why do you need a doberman?"

And you're like "So I can cuddle a big scary guard dog when my big scary guard dog isn't there 🥺"

Congratulations! You almost took out your boyfriend with a coughing fit at how cringe I mean cute you are!

ANYWAYS

He can't say no to you.

He can never say no to you.

Sukuna is more than prepared to dish out whatever money he needs to spend in this rigged game, but by the time he gets to the counter, the stall owner has already taken down the doberman and is telling Sukuna to take it.

"But I didn't win it fai--"

"On the house." the stall owner insists, hands trembling as Sukuna hesitates in taking it from him.

And then off you go with your doberman plushie~~

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

[thecapricunt1616]

Knock knock 🚪✊- Is anyone out there?! For some reason the bug has only been biting me to write late at night, so I’m sorry I’ve been posting so late lately (lol) but I hope that some lip smutty fluff brightens up your morning! (p.s. ; yes I know there are still 17 asks rotting away in my box. I prooomise I’m getting to them. I’m wanting to do asks how I usually do them, which is giving you an 8-10k plot instead of just what I can write on my phone since I don’t have a laptop at the moment, but I swear im trying to get a new one suuuuper soon!!! I love you all!!)

I’ve been thinking all day, probably since it is Carnival season after all - about how fun it would be to go to a Carnival with Lip over summer break, or even take a roadtrip to Cedar Point together and make a whole week out of it?! Eeee our prince deserves some fun time! I just know he’s the kind that is such a kid at heart, he grew up with so many siblings! He also has Frannie around, so he would totally love stuff like that (more BTC)

(Warnings for BTC: AFAB reader, No physical attributes for reader are described other then r/ has long hair, Smut!!!, No use of Y/N {r/ goes by pet names like baby, sweetheart, honey, etc.}, Fluff {happy lip!!}, Established relationship, College!Lip, sweet older-brother vibes from Lip, vomiting (r throws up cotton candy, it’s not too bad or long though!) , No ‘typical’ Gallagher drama to be found! {giving our mans a break!!} , not heavily edited, sweet/caring BF!Lip) [if I missed any please let me know in the comments!]

So you’d get there probably just as the sun is setting ‘because that’s the most romantic time to go’ he’d teased, in your ear earlier that afternoon between heavy needy kisses that you shared the moment he’d gotten home from work and he tugged you up to his bedroom since the house had been empty, he was going to use that time ever wisely.

He had been talking up this grand fun night together when the Carnival Fair was finally coming to town that weekend. It was going to be a wonderful chance for you and him to get some nice time alone, especially after finishing out your spring semester of school and having the summer off. He’d been working the summer at Patsy’s, so he told you he was gonna have all the money a girl could dream to get cotton candy and funnel cake since you’d gushed about how when you were a kid those were your favorite to get.

He had wrapped his beat up Jean jacket around your shoulders as you walked after he bought your tickets, even though it was nearing the middle of August and during the day summer was in full swing - fall had already begun to creep in at night causing goosebumps to arise on your arms. “Have I ever told you what a gentleman you are, Gallagher?” You kiss his cheek gently and he chuckled, shaking his head a bit

“Takin’ care of you is my job baby.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, kissing your head gently as you waited in line together to get a big bag of cotton candy to share.

“Well you’re really good at that job- you should give yourself a promotion” you held up your left hand jokingly, wiggling your ring finger and he lets out a chuckle, heat creeping to his cheeks that you couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride in your chest for being the reason of.

“I promise I will promote myself as soon as I can find it in the budget” he mused, lacing your fingers together as you head up to the counter and the guy a few years younger then the two of you asked what he could get for him- and he looked at you “you still want the bag one, yea?” He confirmed.

You looked at lip like he had hung the moon in the sky that night, you usually looked at him that way. How he was so kind, and attentive in the way he loved you. How he yearned to take care of you, he wanted nothing more than to make you happy. He made you the happiest girl in the world just by remembering you told him cotton candy was your favorite fair treat so getting right in line for it with you the moment you got there. Because it was what you liked, what made you happy.

“Yes, thank you baby” you planted a little kiss on his neck, since you couldn’t reach his lips when he wasn’t ducking his head to kiss you as he handled the paying and the conversation. Being taken care of had become routine for you, pampered- loved. That’s how you felt when you were around lip, loved- and seen.

Your next stop after sitting and munching on cotton candy until you nearly gave yourself a tummy ache, causing Lip to have to tie off the rest of the bag yo keep your sneaky fingers from getting in when he wasn’t looking - was the strongman game.

You giggle and point “Babyyyyy! You’re so strong- look at that cute pink unicorn!! I can cuddle it when you’re at work! Pleeeeease Lip, can you win it for me baby? Pretty pleeeease?” You beg sweetly, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and kissing along his jaw to sweeten the deal.

He chuckled a bit, looking at the top rack where said obnoxiously large unicorn was zip tied to the grate, looking down at you before back up at it and sighing a bit to himself “I can win it - but do I particularly wanna carry it around the rest of the night?” He looked down at you again to see your fluttering lashes and pouty bottom lip.

“For your lady? For your bestest girl in the whole world? Pleeeease? You work too much who am I gonna snuggle!” You stand on your tip toes and peck his lips “if I was strong enough to do it myself I would but I need my big strong man to do it for me” you emphasize for added pizazz and he snorts a laugh, patting your ass playfully and giving it a squeeze.

“You are a damn good manipulator” he teased as he dug out his wallet, grabbing a 5 dollar bill that it costed for the three swings “gimme a real kiss- y’know, luck and shit” he puckered his lips, ducking his head and you giggle, happily squeaking as you plant a juicy loving kiss on his lips, your hand finding the back of his neck and stroking gently

“Thank you best boyfriend in the world” you giggle happily and stood to the side as he handed the guy the money

“So uh- what do I need to do f’the horse” he nodded at the pink unicorn with a rainbow tail.

“It’s a unicorn, baby!” You remind and he rolled his eyes playfully

“The fuckin unicorn, then, what do I need t’do” he asked the man running the game booth

“Have to get 100% on one of your 3 tries.” He explained, putting the money in the cash box and Lip nodded

“Easy enough” he picked up the mallet, rolling his shoulders a few times to stretch them out.

“You got this baby!!!” You clap happily and watch as he takes his first swing and the little piece races up and hits 96% causing you to jump up and down happily “Good job baby!!!” You giggled and he smiled at your sweet, encouraging reaction even for something as silly as a carnival game, something he always adored about you is your undying support and encouragement for the people you love. He always felt when you were around that he could just be himself and somehow, that was enough, all on its own.

“Not bad for a first swing ‘eh?” He mused with a playful cockiness and since it wasn’t all too common someone could really get 100% on the thing, a small crowd of 5 or so carnival goers had stopped to see if he was going to get it.

“Not bad at all, I’m already thinking of names for our soon to be adopted unicorn baby” you said and he chuckled a bit, lifting his arms to take his next swing and you couldn’t help but realize how the hem of his black T-shirt rode up when he did, exposing his v-line and happy trail just a bit. You bit your lip gently at the sight, also not missing the sexy little grunt that left his throat when he used all his strength slamming down on the platform with the mallet.

The little knob races up and pangs the bell, announcing that Lip had in fact hit the 100% threshold - breaking you out of your lustful gaze and dirty thoughts that nearly constantly plagued your mind when he was around, the man was walking sex - how could you deny yourself? You gasped and cheered, rushing up to Lip and jumping into a hug “Baby! Oh my god, I love you! I knew you could do it!” You laughed excitedly, kissing him back passionately as he held you safely around his waist, spinning around with you once and chuckling as he set you down, his cheeks slightly pink when he realized there were still a few stragglers hanging about who had watched him win.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t comfortable with PDA, he actually quite loved showing you off, and showing the fact that you loved him off. It made him feel special, wanted. But the two of you had gotten more then just affectionate, you weren’t just the girl of the month that he was screwing to let off steam. He didn’t even realize that the whole ‘love of your life’ thing was real - or possible for someone like him none-the-less.

But as dopey and love sick as it sounded to him in his head, he knew there are absolutely people out there who aren’t loved as proudly as him by someone like you, so any testament of that love and how lucky he was to have it made his chest swell with pride. You were his girlfriend, his lady. Nothing you could ever do would embarrass him.

“Unicorn, right?” The man asked and you nodded excitedly.

“Baby Glitter Gallagher! Isn’t that so cute? Our very first baby together” you giggle as the man handed over the large stuffed toy and you give it a big hug “thaaaank you lip” you said sweetly

“Baby Glitter - so baby is the first name, glitter is her middle name? Or is it baby-glitter like MarySue or some shit?” He asked, causing you to laugh as you walked with him in search of your next adventure to partake in together.

“BabyGlitter is like MarySue, I’m glad we clarified. She’s absolutely a Gallagher, though. So step up or cough up child support is all I’m sayin’” you joked, earning another adorable chuckle from him.

Your next stop was one that Lip had pointed out, so you felt like it was mandated to stop and partake because it was the first thing he had mentioned on his own since you had gotten here; the zipper ride. You had spent the last 10 minutes in line as you waited for the group in front of yours to go, telling him that you could absolutely handle it.

“Gallagher, are you callin’ me a crybaby?” You teased, playfulness edging your tone. “Cause last I checked I can handle myself, even if I like having a sexy man around to protect me” you smiled, kissing his jaw gently. He chuckled at that, shaking his head and holding his left arm around your waist while his other was holding onto your new member of the family, as well as your remaining cotton candy that was deemed a hostage until at least the end of the night.

“I’m not- I’m not!” He holds the cotton candy up in defense jokingly “I’m just sayin I know you don’t like goin’ upside down is all and if I wanna go on the ride I wanna have fun.. when Ian and I used to ride it we’d be flipping the whole way around it was so fuckin fun.” He chuckled a bit at the memory, bringing a happy warmth to your chest. It was rare that the Gallagher kids got to make real, childhood memories together. So that all the more made you want to do this with him, to be a part of his nostalgia and nurture it the way he always made an effort to be a part of yours.

“Well then I wanna have fun! I’m not a baby we’ll be fine, I have you to protect me” you kiss his cheek as you got to the front of the line waiting to be let on the ride. He gives you a gentle peck on the lips before kissing your cheek

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, princess” he said, putting your things he had been holding for you over to the side with the rest of the carnival goers. He helped you up the platform steps, always being sure you never tripped and kept your fingers laced, rubbing the back of your hand gently with his hand as the man unlocked and opened the cage door, a creaky noise coming from it as he does so.

“There’s no-“ you swallow thickly when you realize there was no seatbelts, and lip gave you a ‘told you so’ look, allbeit playful, it only egged on your petulant pride and you shrug. “No seatbelts, makes for more fun, right?” You muse, stepping in and lip got in right next to you, your shoulders and arms pressed up against one another.

“That’s the best part” Lip smirked, holding onto the grip bars when the man clanked the door shut, dropping the lock bar in place and you were suddenly moving. Everything was no longer steady, and it felt as if you were trapped in a fan blade rocking back and forth ready to flip over any which way.

“Lip” you said, concern etching your voice. He was right, Lip usually was right, as annoying as it is for you most days. You didn’t particularly like heights, or being spun in circles, and mixing that with being trapped in a tiny metal cage was bringing those fears right to the surface and you weren’t quite sure what made your ego so big before you got on.

“What baby? You scared?” He teased, playfulness edging his voice. He begins to rock his weight back and forth, the whole cage rattling and clanging as he does so. The hinges seem to creak and you can see in your mind the gruesome terror that would unfold if the cage door just so happened to give out.

“Stop- stop it- it’s broken! Don’t you hear it, Lip? We gotta get off!” you said worriedly and he laughed like a masochistic 7 year old boy, rocking his weight more dramatically until you were fully laying down before swinging the other way and laying on said creaky cage door while you look below at the 50 foot drop and knuckles popped from gripping the grab bars on the cage door so hard

He chuckled more “baby it’s fine it’s not gonna break. Cmon let’s do a flip” he said, throwing all his weight back and you squeal as your suddenly hanging upside down and he laughs loudly “woops! Guess we’re stuck till we start moving” he teases and you whine, feet dangling off the floor of the cage

“Phillip Gallagher you’re the meanest boyfriend in the whole world!” You shout, causing him to laugh and you heard a chuckle from the riders below you at your current misfortune

“I thought I was the nicest boyfriend also the proud father of- what was it-“ he’s cut off as the ride starts again to let more riders on and you flip forward, swinging back and forth dramatically as the cage once again balanced your weight. You seized the opportunity to slap his shoulder once you found your footing

“You could have killed us!” You said but couldn’t help the big smile on your lips.

“Then I guess Baby Glitter Gallagher would have been an orphan before she even made it home” he mused, before giving you a kiss on the lips.

“This is why no more cotton candy babe” Lip said gently as he held your hair back and you puke up bright purple lemonade mixed with your blue and pink cotton candy.

“Yeah- kinda pretty though, right like -“ you pause to gag, more sugary neon purple mess splashing into the unfortunate bush you had decided to victimize tonight after your what felt like hundreds of flips on the zipper ride. “I would totally get my nails this color-“ you sniffle, spitting in the bush to rid your mouth of the slimey after puke feeling before standing and wiping your mouth with the back of your forearm.

He chuckled a bit, shaking his head as he dug around in the pocket of his Jean jacket that sat atop your unicorn for safe keeping and pulling out a small flask “open” he tilted your head back and you scrunch your nose, obeying and opening your mouth. “Sorry- but I know Y’gonna wanna kiss me and I don’t want to taste y’vomit babe, as much as I love you” he dribbled a mouthful of vodka in your mouth and you scrunch your face and whine slightly as you swished it around, gargling a bit for good measure before spitting it into the poor little bush and turning back to him to see he was finishing off the flask while you did so before putting it back in his jacket pocket.

“I think you need some water, and we should sit and relax f’r a second ‘huh?” He rubbed your arm gently before pulling you into a comforting hug and kissing the top of your head. You shut your eyes, enjoying the spicy scent of his cologne mixed with the musky earthy scent of tobacco and weed he’d consumed earlier.

“Yeah- but let’s stay over here. Well, maybe not by puke bush. But where it’s quiet. I know you probably want a smoke” you sat down next to a tree and he joined you, resting your unicorn next to his lap

“This fuckin thing is gonna take up my whole side of the bed” he muttered as he dug out his cigarettes and lighter from his pocket, lighting one between his lips

“Mmm, only when you’re not home. Gimme some” you said sweetly. He looked over, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, gentle kiss as he exhaled the smoke into your mouth and you sucked it down graciously, eyes fluttering shut at the short light feeling it gave your mind since you were only getting half of its effects.

“Better be you know I like doin butt rubs after a day at work” he mumbled against your lips before kissing you again, shorter this time because it was inturupted by a giggle from you. He was right, Lip loved to lay in bed in the dark with you, detailing what had went on at work that day while he felt up your ass. It wasn’t strictly sexual, (although a lot of times it ended that way) it was more a…stress toy for him to play with as he went on.

“I love butt rub time. I was actually thinking about that earlier. One of the best times of the day” you wrap your arms around his middle, nuzzling your face in his neck and kissing the warm skin gently as he took another drag.

“Yeah baby?” He kissed your temple gently, squeezing your side and lifting up the helm of your shirt to run his fingers along your bare skin. The action brings goosebumps to your skin, calming but sensual. Your eyes flutter shut at the gentle affections, enjoying the carefree laughter and joyful screams from the carnival a hundred feet or so away, mixing with the gentle quiet sounds of crickets chirping in the woods.

“I love all our time.” You assure him, planting a gentle kiss on his warm broad shoulder.

The next thing you decided to do, after being sure to make a pit stop for ice water and Lip being sure you drank a decent amount - was a calm pretty swing ride. It had a lot of hight to it, but that was mostly so you could get a good view of the city while you swung around at a fast (but not dizzying) pace.

You got in line behind a pregnant mother and her young daughter, who looked to be not much older then Frannie. Smiling to yourself, you thought what it may be like to have kids with Lip some day. You didn’t want that day to be soon, of course. You and Lip had promised eachother that you wanted to finish college. He wanted to make it out of the south side, and while you were a Chicago transplant, you still understood why that was from the stories he told you of their growing up. You wanted to be sure that any family planning would stay far off until you and Lip were both working adult jobs, and had a house or something - when you were real adults.

You hadn’t even realized you’d made it to the front of the line, and were being broken out of your dreamland daze when the little girl stomps her feet “but mommy! We waited all this time! I wanna go on!” She said getting increasingly upset as the ride operator explained that single riders had to be of a certain height

“I know baby but mommy’s belly is too big - I can’t go on it’ll hurt your little sister! I’m sorry, honey. I really am.” The mother tried to explain, and Lip, being the brotherly gentleman he is spoke up.

“Uh- I’ll take ‘er for you, Ma’am - If that’s cool with you- babe are you good on your own?” He asked you and you felt yourself swoon like this was some romance movie and not real life. You nodded with a big smile

“He’s got so many siblings - he’s gonna look after her real well, I’ll sit right behind them!” You gushed and the woman lights up

“Oh gosh- would it be a hassle?” She asked

“Mommyyyy! Please! Pleeeeease!! I’ll listen so good!” She jumped excitedly and the mother looked at Lip before looking back at her.

“Fine- but you better listen! You hear me! Give this nice boy no trouble at all missy” she said, handing her hand over to Lip and she giggled excitedly

“Thank you mister! Thank you sooo much!” She gushed, throwing her arms around his hips and giving him a big hug. You pout at the adorable sight in front of you, following behind to sit in the single seat behind the double they’d be sitting in.

“I’m Marley, I’m 5, what’s your name?” She asked as Lip helped her into the seat before sitting next to her and adjusting the lap bar.

“I’m Lip” he said, causing her to giggle

“That’s a silly name- Lippy lip lip” she repeats as she swings her legs back and forth in that darling childlike way. “Are you a grown up?” She asked him and he chuckled a bit, realizing like when Debbie was little- this carnival ride was going to turn into more of an interrogation then anything else.

“I guess you could say that, yeah.” He said. You watched them with sparkling eyes, a big grin on your face as you saw just how good he was with her. Lip was always good with kids. They took to him because he would usually speak to them how he spoke to other adults (minus as much swearing as he could remember to omit) and that made them feel special, equal. Which is one of the many things he can say he wanted as a kid, and never got. So he did his best to pay it forward.

By the time you’d gotten to the top the wind was louder at the height as you spun so you were no longer able to hear their conversation so clear. You looked at the twinkling lights of Chicago below, trying to see if you could pick out the Gallagher house just by your mental map of the city you’d made in the few years you’d been living here. You did hear though when the girl started giggling wildly, drawing your attention back to them and you saw Lip pretending to be fully limp and dead in the seat next to the girl, tongue hanging out of his mouth and everything.

You shook your head, rolling your eyes at his silly antics. Even though he held up a hard exterior a lot of the time, you knew deep down he was a kid at heart which is why they liked him so much. When you got back down and hopped out of your seat, you greet him with a kiss “did he give you too much trouble?” You asked Marley and she giggled, shaking her head.

“No- Thank you, Lippy Lip” she told him giving him another sweet hug. You returned her to her mother and Lip told her they were welcome to Patsy’s for a piece of pie on the house any time which just made your heart swell even more at how generous and kind he was, even to a stranger he just met.

“You are just the sweetest- thank you so much, Sorry what was your name I never caught it-“

“LIP! Lippy lip lip lip!” The girl sings again, gasping when you came over with your large unicorn “She’s so fluffy I’m gonna die!” She squealed, hugging it tight “what’s its name?” She asked you, looking up with a bright sugar rush smile. This kids gonna sleep good tonight

“Uh- Baby Glitter!” You told her and she smiled

“Baby glitter is perfect” she told you and her mother giggled, a bit nervously at all of her energy likely so far past her bedtime.

“Well, Lip- thank you again. We’re gonna have to check out your restaurant! Alright Marley say goodbye to your new friend we have to go home now I said just one more ride” her mother told her and she pouted, handed your unicorn back over.

“Byeee Lip, I had fun playing with you” she gave him one last hug and you felt like your heart could explode with the way he ruffled her hair and pat her back in such a brotherly way.

“You too kid, be good f’y’r mom heard?” He told her and she nods, taking her mom’s hand and they head off into the crowd.

“You’d be a good dad” you said softly, taking his hand and lacing his fingers with yours. He laughed, shaking his head

“She was just a good kid” he counters.

You’d ended up together at the ferris wheel, luckily it wasn’t one that had to be balanced with weight so you could snuggle up to Lip with his jacket wrapped tight around you and legs over his lap. As soon as you got far enough from the ride operator he even pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and resting his head back as he blew the smoke out.

You sat and just watched him, admiring the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed or the way he adorably sniffled once in a while since the poor guy had year round allergies it seemed, and never bothered with Zyrtec or any allergy medicine at all. “You’re pretty” you said softly, chin resting on his pec as you as you watched him.

He chuckled a bit, his cheeks flushing a cute pink. Before you, no one had ever called Lip ‘cute’ - He had been called a plethora of things.

Disobedient, disorderly, rude, loud, obnoxious, violent, a bad influence, a waste of potential -

But pretty? That was something that started (and he told himself very likely ended) with you.

“That’s all you c’mere” he tilted your chin up, giving you a sweet and tender kiss, cupping your cheek with his other hand and stroking his thumb across it. When he pulled from your lips he kissed across your forehead and browbone, down your nose to your cheekbones and then leaving one final lingering kiss on your jaw before having another drag of his cigarette casually. Your heart felt like it was thumping out of your chest, and your belly was swarming with so many butterflies it was as if migration season came early.

But that wasn’t new, it felt like that every day with lip. Ever the gentle, sweet, kind, affectionate man you had yearned for every past boyfriend to be for you. But you figured it was just the universes way of teaching you to appreciate French Vanilla Bean type of love - rich, fulfilling as opposed to the cheap watered down fake chemical crap that comes in a bottle with a squeeze lid.

So many emotions washed over you, gratitude, love, fulfillment, appreciation, but for some reason what won over- was lust. You weren’t quite sure where it came from, but by the time you had stopped at the top, you were in the depths of a passionate, heated makeout session - cigarette long crushed out.

The smoke scent clung to his palms that cradled your cheeks as if you were a fine porcelain doll to be cherished and gently caressed. He hummed softly, disconnecting your lips and soft puffs of breath fanning over your spit-slick lips as his mind short circuited a moment due to your hand trailing down and popping the button of his jeans, and pulling him free of his boxers and pants.

“You sure?” He asked carefully, hands trailing to your shoulders and squeezing them gently as if to silently tell you it was ok if you just got too caught up in the lust of it all. Lip Gallagher - ever the gentleman. In response you gently stroke over him, using the pre that had started to leak out of his hardening pink tip to give yourself some lubricating before reconnecting your lips once more, opening your mouth for him.

A small whine escaped your throat when he slipped his tongue into your mouth, his hips rutting up into your hand subconsciously. His stomach muscles flex under your touch as you slightly tighten your grasp, twisting your hand with each return pass.

Such actions was causing him to lose all resolve. He panted softly into your mouth, licking and sucking your tongue, breaking to grunt softly at the feeling of his dick trying to twitch at the delicious stimulation you provided but being unable to due to the literal grip you had on him.

“Doin’ so good- so fuckin good baby - god. Jesus fuckin Christ. Such a good girl f’me, huh?” He praised, giving you more sloppy kisses to be sure no moans escaped his throat and if they did would be muffled most of the way by your mouth.

You hummed at the praise tilting your head down and letting a glob of spit fall into your hand, using it as added slick to pump your hand faster and he bit his lip, nose scrunching adorably as he tried to hold himself back. “You gonna cum? Mm? Wanna cum in my hand baby?” You said in the shell of his ear hotly before taking the lobe between your teeth, slowing your strokes and rubbing over his sensitive leaky tip with the silky soft pad of your tongue.

The action made his jaw fall slack, head resting over the ledge of the ride and as you started moving again you quickened your pace realizing you were on your decent back to the bottom. “Yeah? Er you want me to swallow it? Hmm? Get on my knees for you-“ you goad, egging on his release.

He looks at you and nodded fervently, rendered speechless by the actions of your hand causing you giggle a bit- getting on your knees and out of sheer routine Lip gathered your hair in a makeshift ponytail and watched as you took him into your mouth, giving his tip sensual little kitten lips and tapping his cock against your tongue making soft wet thudding noises only to be heard by the two of you.

“So fuckin filthy- huh? So eager to have a mouthful’a cum with all these people around?” He eases your head down and you let your jaw fall more slack, swirling and slurping your tongue around him how you’d learned drives him wild.

It wasn’t long of lewd slurping and soft moans of enjoyment coming from you as you continued to get him off, before you felt it.

Success.

You braced yourself as he began using your hair to roughly fuck your face, panting softly as he worked himself through his high. “Jeeeesus - good fuckin’ girl, yeah? That’s my good fuckin girl- my girl” He rambled on as he worked himself through his high. You swirl and slurp around him, swallowing down all you could before he pulled you off

“So fuckin pretty with a mouth full’a’cum, how’s that possible?” He pats your cheek lovingly as you opened your mouth to show the stringy sticky white mess he left. You shrugged a bit, smiling friskely and swallowing, making a show of licking your lips off and he grabbed your jaw, collecting the mix of saliva and cum on your chin with the pad of this thumb before sticking it in your mouth

“Clean it up” he ordered and in turn you sucked the digit clean obediently. “Good girl, now come act decent in front’a’these people, yeah?” He tapped your cheek lightly and fixed his jeans and boxers as you come and plop back down next to him, licking your swollen lips that were adorned with a satisfied smirk as you completed your decent to the bottom

“Mmmm- oh my god literally the trip here was worth it just for this it’s the best” you hum softly, taking another bite of funnel cake from between Lips fingers when he put it to your mouth.

“Can’t lie it’s pretty fuckin good” he said, popping another piece in his mouth.

“Can you believe there are sinners in the world that put marinara sauce on this?!” You said and Lip starts laughing, shaking his head. “What? What!! It’s gross, you like it?” You asked not sure what was so funny

“Baby- babe” he coughs a bit, trying to catch his breath “oh god- y’fuckin kill me, kid. That’s fried dough, people do that with- you’re right, someone would be a fucking psychopath if they put marinara sauce on their cake” he said and you started laughing as well, shaking your head at your own confusion

“I love you” you said, leaning over and kissing his cheek. He blushed a bit, turning his face and giving you a real kiss. A kiss that tasted like tobacco and powdered sugar, and sticky sweet love.

“I love you, baby” he said in that soft low way you loved.

From that year on, the Carnival was a yearly date for the two of you.

A/N: EEE! My longest Lip fic to date!!! I hope you enjoyed, if you did please be sure to like / reblog to let me know ❤️ as always, (kind) critiques & feedback are always SO appreciated! Ilyilyilyyy all!!!

D/C: @carmybrainworms - Wormy stayed up until the wee hours of the morning last night beta reading this for me, Wormy 🪱, thank you for tasting my potatoes so many times!!! I love you down bbg

@mouseymilkovich - Mousey Mouse 🐁! Thank you so much for all your encouragement in writing Lip & inspiring me to do so! I love you so much ❤️

@carmenberzattosgf - My sweetest Martini 🍸, thank you for always lifting me up on hard days, supporting my work, being an all around kick ass friend, and feeding the fandom with your amazing Carmy goodness while I’ve been on this Lip kick! Smooches for days for you (you already know that💋💋💋)

& finally, @daysofyellowroses - my lovely flower 🌼, welcome back to the app baby!!! We missed you so much, even though we’ve been talking BTS, I am happy to see the writing bug has paid you a visit (a very good one that Kerry fic still has me sweating)

[cyanbugremix]

"Heating Up In The Night With Your Vampire" Porter HBS Audio spoilers (if you haven't watch it yet):

First off, a county fair/carnival date!!!! That's such a vibe for Porter omg

"Has anyone ever told you, you look ravishing in cheap neon light" -> why was that so romantic O.O bro?!?

Andandand his "so let's be stupid together" i'm smiling.

So funnel cake is his favorite fair treat-

AAW he admitted that he enjoys just spending time with Treasure, whether they do anything sexual or not- "I like the sensation of you very much" - and is still so sweet with their comfort levels 💕

"I assure you, I see you perfectly *kiss* I see you" - Theintimate'iseeyou'omg i get the hype. AND THE POSSIBLE DOUBLE MEANING???

"Yes look up at the stars Treasure, and fall up into them with me" - speechless. no words. he must have been a one of this kids that wrote poetry/or loved writing in general, bcuz he's descriptive

Final Thoughts: Very cute! Definitely has fallen in love, cuz why would he bring them to a place that has some sort of nostalgia and "warms a part of his heart" (as Porter puts it), unless he wanted to share that with Treasure while also getting to know them? That's seems kinda vulnerable to me . . . 🤔

Wonder if they did like other county fair/carnival games? Like trying to win prizes for one another or go on a merry-go-round or smthn.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve and Eddie are at a fair out of town with the kids. It was a few towns over, far enough away, so they didn't have to run into anyone trying to ruin their fun. Steve had already won stuffed animals for the kids. Well, except for Max and El. Max insisted on winning one for her and El by herself. So did Erica. The boys had no problem letting him do it for them. Will blushed when he handed him his stuffed animal. For Will's sake, Steve pretended not to notice his crush on him and let him keep it to himself. It was cute. He was turning back when he noticed the large stuffed Garfield hanging up. Oh, Eddie would love that.

"Hey, Eddie," Steve called out.

Eddie hadn't been paying attention, too busy talking with Dustin and Lucas. He looked up at him to see Steve approaching with the stuffed Garfield.

"This is for you," Steve said and held it out for him.

"This is for me?" Eddie asked softly and sweetly. Steve nodded. "Um, thanks, man."

He stared at it and then at Steve. He tried to control his stuttering heart, but when someone looked at you the way Eddie did at Steve. . .well, all sorts of feelings come popping up. Those damn cow eyes of his. Eddie closed his eyes and hugged Garfield tightly to his chest. Fuck, if that didn't bring the biggest smile to Steve’s face. Yeah, Steve knew he was a goner. It wasn't long after that that they made their way back to the car and were driving back to Hawkins. The kids were fast asleep in the back of Eddie's van, curled up on each other and their stuffed animals. Eddie was still fighting sleep as he gazed affectionately at Steve while he cuddled up with Garfield through heavy eyelids.

"Get some sleep," Steve suggested softly.

Eddie reached over, took Steve’s hand, and laced their fingers together before closing his eyes. It felt like his heart was doing somersaults in his chest. Yeah, he definitely liked this. Once Steve started dropping off the kids, Eddie had woken up and rubbed sleep from his eye before leaning over the console to rest his head against Steve’s.

"Can I stay over?" Eddie whispered.

"Yes, and fuck you, I had it all planned out on kidnapping you. You ruined them," Steve said, and Eddie chuckled.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, you can tie me up later," Eddie said, not really thinking about what he said.

"Is that a promise?" Steve asked with a smirk.

Eddie blushed and buried his face into Steve’s shoulder and remained there with Steve’s hand on his thigh until they reached Steve’s house. He let Eddie hang off his arm as they walked into the house. Eddie plopped the stuffed animal against a wall and turned around to thank Steve yet again. He nearly jumped out of his shoes when he saw that Steve was already standing so close to him. Steve reached up to cup his face, let his thumb run over Eddie's soft lips. He cupped his other cheek and pulled Eddie into passionate but gently kiss, the metalhead melted into it. Eddie's knees nearly gave away, but Steve pulled him up against him, and Eddie wrapped his arms around his neck, hanging onto him tightly. Steve pressed him up against the wall as he slipped his tongue inside. Eddie tasted like popcorn, funnel cake, and cigarettes. Steve sighed against his mouth. They broke apart, leaning their foreheads together.

"You are so fucking cute," Steve said, tucking a hair behind Eddie's ear.

"Shut up, no, I'm not," Eddie scoffed.

"Yes, you are, and I will spend every day making you believe it the way I do," Steve said.

"Sap," Eddie said and buried his face into Steve’s neck.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other's arms as they nuzzled each other's necks. Eddie had gone prone, and it took Steve a while to realize why that was until he heard a loud snore come from him. Steve chuckled and picked him up, wrapping Eddie's legs around his waist. He started to walk them towards his room when he heard Eddie groan.

"Garfield," Eddie mumbled sleepily.

Steve sighed and went back for Garfield. He's not sure how he did it, but he managed to carry both Eddie and his stuffed animal up the stairs. He placed Eddie gently on the bed, undressing him down to his boxers and shirt. Eddie cuddled up next to Garfield with a sleepy smile.

"You can do whatever you want to me, Stevie, just don't wake me up. Okay?" Eddie said.

"Yeah, no," Steve said with a laugh. "I want you wide awake for what I want to do to you."

Steve stripped down to his boxers and slipped in behind Eddie, curling up against his backside. He wrapped an arm around both Eddie and Garfield.

"Steve. . .?"

"Yeah?"

"Garfield wants to know if you want to have a threesome," Eddie said.

Steve bursts into laughter, shaking against his back.

"Go the fuck to sleep, asshole," Steve replied.

They drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, them and Garfield.

[theladyofdeath]

Anxious & Bewitched {nessian}

Ship: Nesta x Cassian Summary: College AU; Nesta loses a bet and has to go on a date with Cassian to a haunted corn maze. T/W: None; Fluff

Written with @snelbz

As Nesta opened the passenger side door and dropped from the cab of the truck, a chill breeze had her tucking her hands into the folds of her thick sweater.

The driver-side door closed behind her and she took a deep breath.

She had no reason to be nervous. There was no reason to be nervous. It wasn’t the first time they’d hung out together, wasn’t even the first time it’d just been the two of them, without the rest of their friends. But this time… This time was different.

He appeared around the front of the truck. “I told you I’d come around to get your door.”

Reigning in the urge to roll her eyes, Nesta muttered, “Yeah, well, you were taking too long.”

He laughed, as he always did when he was clearly exasperated by her. She wondered if somewhere, deep down inside, Cassian secretly wanted to throttle her instead of being amused by her annoyance. She wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

“Most girls—” With one look shot in his direction, Cassian stopped speaking and cleared his throat. “Like corn mazes,” he finished, even though she knew damn well that wasn’t what he was going to say. “Do you?”

Nesta shrugged. “I don’t think anyone really enjoys corn mazes. We all just do them because it’s a tradition.”

“Glad to see you’re excited,” he muttered and shoved his hands in his pockets as they walked toward the ticket booth. “I hope you don’t get scared too easily. They say this is the scariest maze in the county.”

Nesta glanced at the setting sun, barely still in existence. She gave it fifteen minutes before they were in complete darkness. “Do I seem like someone who gets scared easily?”

They reached the front of the line, which saved Cassian from having to answer the loaded question and headed for where the festivities would be starting as soon as the sun fully set behind Ramiel in the distance.

“So,” Nesta began as she looked around at the stands and vendors around them. “I believe the stipulations were one dinner and one trip through the corn maze.”

“And apple cider after the maze,” Cassian reminded her with a wink. The bet they’d made last week over whether Azriel or Elain would earn a higher score on their English lit midterm had won Cassian a date with Nesta, after over a year of rejections. He would make it count.

Nesta’s dramatic sigh was mostly for show as she said, “Right, how could I forget? Where do we start?”

“Dinner?” He asked, gesturing to the stalls they paused before.

Chili, soup, and roasted chicken legs; kettle corn, funnel cake, and, of course, hot cider. The options were limitless and as Nesta’s stomach rumbled hungrily, she realized her appetite was as well. “I could eat.”

After a quick discussion over what they each wanted and whether or not it would count as a date if they weren’t eating the same thing, Cassian led Nesta to an open picnic table, placing her bowl of hearty tomato soup in front of her as she sat down. Rather than taking the seat across from her, Cassian sat next to her, the heat of his thigh against hers as he took a bite out of the massive chicken leg he’d decided on.

He ate like an animal and Nesta hated to admit that she found it oddly attractive. 

Nonetheless, she said, “You eat like a barbarian.”

“I eat like a man,” he corrected and nodded towards her soup. “Are you going to pretend to sip that thing like a lady instead of devouring it like you want to?”

The word devour from his lips sent a chill down her spine. She’d read too much smut.  

And yes, yes she was.

Nesta took her sweet time sipping her soup, just to spite him. He was finished in less than a minute but he waited patiently for her once his food was long gone. 

Half an hour passed before Nesta’s bowl was empty and by that time, the moon and the stars were shining brightly in the night sky. Cassian took care of their garbage and clapped his hands together as Nesta stood from the picnic table.

“Ready?”

She sighed, even as a whirlwind of anxiety and excitement swelled in the pit of her stomach. “I guess I don’t have a choice, right?”

His grin was intoxicating as he said, “Not at all.”

They lined up behind a group of high school students, Cassian recognizing the green and silver of their letterman jackets from the next town over, and sat in companionable silence as the teenagers planned how they’d make their way through the maze. They discussed who would lead, who was too scared and would walk in the middle, and who would bring up the rear, making sure those people from the middle wouldn’t fall behind.

Before they knew it, the excited giggles of the group became shrieks and howls of laughter as they meandered deeper into the maze.

Then it was their turn.

“After you, Nes,” Cassian said, gesturing to the long walkway ahead of them. It faded into nothing but darkness and he swore he heard her swallow before she turned to him.

“I don’t think so. This was your idea, so you get to go in first.”

The attendant rolled his eyes and held an arm out toward the entrance. “I’ve got a line and you’re backing it up. You can go in together.”

Nesta opened her mouth to protest but Cassian took her by the hand and pulled her into the maze. Before she could even catch her breath, they were enveloped in corn stalks, the shrieks and screams of others radiating around them.

Nesta’s body grew taut, so much so that she hadn’t even realized that her hand was still in Cassian’s until they turned their first corner.

“So,” he began, and she could see his smirk in the outline of the starlight, “not scared, huh?”

“I swear to the Cauldron, I will leave right now if you don’t shut up.” The words rushed out of her. She took a deep breath, then another. “I’m not scared. I’m just—”

A guy dressed as a bloodied up zombie jumped out of the cornstalks and Nesta screamed.

But it was Cassian that jumped nearly a foot in the air, a long string of profanity tumbling from his mouth.

Nesta stared at him.

Cassian, chest heaving, stared back.

Then, despite herself, Nesta laughed.

With an exasperated sigh, Cassian took Nesta’s hand again and dragged her away from the still snarling zombie.

“Holding my hand a little tight there, aren’t you?” She asked, once they had moved farther into the maze. He could hear the smile on her face, but didn’t look at her as they surged forward. “Don’t worry, Cass, I’ll keep you safe.”

A twig snapped at their backs and Nesta whirled, turning to face the…empty path behind them. Her eyes darted around, searching despite not seeing anyone or anything there.

A terrified scream from somewhere deeper within the maze had Nesta gasping and clutching onto Cassian’s arm with her free hand.

“I could say the same for you,” he snapped, and cursed when the sound of a chainsaw began to rev from somewhere in the maze. “I’m having a blast.”

“Me too,” she hissed, grounding herself in the warmth of his body. She had never felt so annoyed and so safe at the same time. Maybe if she closed her eyes, this whole experience would be so much more enjoyable. 

Ignoring the fact that she was clinging to Cassian for dear life, Nesta continued to make her way through the maze, wishing she was literally anywhere else every time they came to a dead end.

They had just gotten away from a psycho in a hockey mask when Cassian said, “I have no clue how to get out of here.”

Nesta looked down the creepy pathways before them. “I don’t either. Isn’t there some trick to getting out of mazes?”

Snapping his fingers, Cassian took her hand and began pulling her down the path to the right. “Right turns only.”

The psycho in the hockey mask was waiting around the next turn with the rest of his team.

“Why do you even like this stuff?” Cassian demanded as they stopped to catch their breath, warily looking around at the corn stalks, waiting for someone to jump out at them.

“I don’t,” Nesta replied, peeking around the corner, cringing at whatever she saw. “I hate it.”

When there was no response, Nesta glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting him to be gone. Instead, she found him staring at her.

“What do you mean you hate it,” he asked, eyes on hers.

“I mean, I hate getting scared,” she snapped, looking back around the corner. “Slashers and horror movies are the extent of my interest in being scared.”

He muttered under his breath, “I’m going to kill them.”

With her brow furrowed, Nesta turned to find him shaking his head. “Who?”

“Feyre, but I’m sure it was Rhys’s idea, too.” He stepped up behind her, finally seeing the clown standing in the middle of the path and stepped back. “When I asked her for an idea of what you’d want to do, she said you’d love this. That you love haunted houses.”

Nesta tried her best not to gape but couldn’t help herself. “She said what?”

Cassian just shook his head, dragging Nesta past the creepy ass clown. 

“You don’t like this, either?” She asked, when he said nothing. Cassian just shook his head, and Nesta scoffed. “Wow.”

“Being scared pisses me off,” he admitted. “Which, your sister knows.”

A realization hit Nesta as they turned yet another corner: he hated being scared, but he brought her here anyway.

Because he thought she would love it. 

She hadn’t realized she was staring at him until a second clown popped out of the stalks and Cassian’s hand gripped onto hers so tightly that it hurt.

Nothing else was said until they reached the end of the maze, just a few minutes later. There were no other big scares, nothing else to take any additional years off of Cassian’s life and he wished his sigh of relief when they finally walked out into the open air of the festival wasn’t as loud as it was. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, beyond thankful that the entire ordeal was over and he’d made it out alive.

“Alright,” he said, exhaling one last time and looking towards the stalls. He’d seen someone selling hot cider when they’d first gotten here. “I could go for some cider. Honestly, I’m down for something stronger, if you are, but—”

A tug on his hand had him leaning down and then a warm kiss was pressed to his cheek.

For a moment, he stilled, thinking what had happened hadn’t just happened, but when he met her gaze, she almost looked as surprised as he was. Her eyes were wide and hesitant, glancing hectically between his eyes and his mouth. Cassian swallowed, scared to say or do anything to break whatever the hell was going on here. 

“Thank you,” she said, quietly but firmly, eyes locked on his. 

“For what?” he asked, blinking. “You were miserable.”

“So were you,” she agreed, and shook her head. “So, thank you.”

“I wanted you to have a good time,” he admitted, brushing his fingers against hers. “I didn’t want you to regret having said yes.”

Her fingers grazed his again, but then she laced them together. “Technically, I didn’t have a choice, since I did lose a bet after all,” she said, voice taking on a teasing tone before dropping back into something softer as she smiled. “But I’m glad I came. I’m glad I said yes, Cassian.”

She glanced down at their joined hands, squeezing his fingers once before she met his gaze. His eyes were already on her and he couldn’t help but stare in awe at how beautiful she was.

Blushing, Nesta cleared her throat. “So. You owe me a drink.”

Cassian hesitated. “Cider? Or…”

“Something stronger may be nice.” Nesta breathed a laugh and Cassian couldn’t help but smile. “Something to take the edge off.”

Cassian couldn’t deny that. He could use the same thing, something to take the edge off. “There’s a bar two miles up the road. I think it’s a biker bar, but it seems… Well, I’ll keep you safe.”

Nesta raised a brow. “Maybe I’m the one to keep you safe.”

Cassian sighed. “You can’t ever just say okay, can you?”

Nesta pretended to think about it. “No.”

Yet, with a wicked smile, she dragged him by his hand to the parking lot - which was nothing more than a field marked off with rope - until they were at his truck. Still holding her hand, Cassian opened the passenger side door and helped Nesta up inside before rounding the truck and climbing up behind the wheel. 

The ride to the corn maze had been okay. Conversation had been awkward. Not bad, but a little forced. The ride to the bar was nothing like that. It was brief, but by the time Cassian put the truck in park and cut the engine, he had Nesta dabbing at her eyes as she laughed at a story he was telling her about a prank he and Azriel had pulled on Rhys when they were in high school.

“To this day, he can’t stand the smell of tartar sauce,” he said, shaking his head as unbuckled his seatbelt.

She did the same, laughter still shaking her shoulders. “I don’t blame him, I don’t think I can think of it the same way either.”

With a grin, he opened the door, hopping down and rounded the truck. When he opened her door, he offered her his hand. “You waited this time.”

Her cheeks darkened just a bit, but her eyes sparkled as she said, “Well, I wouldn’t have wanted to take your chance to be a gentleman away.”

“Again,” he added.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Again.”

After taking his hand, Nesta hopped down from the cab and he locked the truck behind them as they made their way inside the bar. It was pretty busy but they managed to find a little table tucked into the back. 

“What’re you drinking?” Cassian asked after Nesta plopped onto the bench.

Nesta lifted a brow. “Surprise me.”

Cassian chuckled. “You trust me that much?”

“We’re about to find out,” Nesta crooned.

Suddenly nervous, Cassian made his way to the bar and waited for the bartender to find her way towards him. He took the time to decide what drink best represented Nesta Archeron.

In the end, he returned to the table with two drinks and two shot glasses.

“What’d you get?” She asked, eyeing the drinks as she set them on the table.

“Jack and Coke,” he said, hovering his hand over the first. Then the second. “Vodka cranberry.” Then he slid one of the shot glasses in front of her and took the other himself. “And a shot of tequila for us both, in case you hate either of those.” 

Grinning, she looked back at the drinks. “And if I want the Jack?”

“Then it looks like I’ll be having a pink drink tonight.”

Rolling her eyes, Nesta nudged the Jack and Coke closer to him and took the other. “I like both, but this is my favorite.” She picked up the shot glass and held it out to him. “Cheers.”

Clinking his glass against hers, Cassian tossed it back, before placing it top down on the table. He did his best not to make a face, but found himself chasing his shot with his drink. Blowing out a brisk breath, he asked, “So am I to assume that haunted corn mazes aren’t a part of your yearly Halloween traditions?”

Nesta shook her head, leaning back in her seat. “Absolutely not. I’ve never even been to a haunted house. Feyre and Elain used to try and get me to take them in high school, before they could drive, but I’ve never liked it.”

“Me either.” He drummed his fingers on the table next to his drink. “Why would I want to pay someone to scare me shitless?”

With a laugh, Nesta agreed. “What about you? Anything you do for Halloween every year?”

“Pumpkin carving. Hands down.”

Nesta scrunched her nose.

Cassian blinked. “Do you have…an issue with pumpkin carving?”

“It’s so messy,” she said, sipping from her drink. “And I hate the feeling of all the guts between my fingers. No, thank you.”

Cassian shakes his head, eyes narrowed in her direction. “What kind of person hates pumpkins? Who hurt you?”

“I like pumpkins.” Nesta laughed. “I just like them intact.” 

“You’re missing out,” he said, and his toe nudged hers until the table and lingered. “Maybe you should give it another try. Maybe you’ve done it wrong.”

“You’re very passionate about carving pumpkins,” Nesta chuckled.

“I prefer calling it pumpkin art, but yes I am.”

Nesta laughed again and Cassian stared at her in awe. It was nice to see her laugh, smile, be happy instead of glaring daggers in his direction.

He looked away from her, his finger circling the rim of his glass. “You could come over, one night this week, if you wanted. We could carve a couple pumpkins. I’ll handle the guts, all you’d have to do is the fun part.”

Raising her eyebrows, Nesta asked, “And what exactly is the fun part? The stabbing?” 

“That and realizing that what you carved looks absolutely nothing like what you planned.”

With a snort, Nesta asked, “I thought you said it was pumpkin art?”

“I did,” he replied with a shrug, but the corner of his mouth was lifted up in a smirk. “But I never said it was good art.”

Tipping her head back, Nesta laughed. When she was done, she brought her glass to her lips and took a drink. “I’d love that.”

Cassian was almost shocked by her revelation. “Yeah?” She nodded but Cassian tried not to get his hopes up too much. “How about Wednesday?”

Nesta slowly set her glass back down. For a second, she hesitated, but then she said, “I can do Wednesday.”

Nearly dropping his glass, Cassian stared across the table. She was not only on a date with him now, but agreed to another in only a few days time. 

Either he was dreaming…or she was already drunk.

Maybe a bit of both. 

After a few more drinks, Cassian glanced at the clock over the bar and saw that it was pushing midnight. “We should probably go. You said you work at nine?”

With a groan, Nesta nodded. She worked at the library on campus and the librarian was not lenient about tardiness and attendance. “Bright and early.”

Drumming his fingers on the table, Cassian stood. “I’ll pay our tab and we can get out of here.”

By the time he returned, Nesta had finished her drink and was slipping her purse over her head.

His hand fell to the small of her back as they left, the crack of pool balls and droning of the jukebox in the corner fading as they walked out the front door.

As soon as they were outside, Nesta shivered. “It’s definitely fall,” she said, tucking her hands under her arms.

With a laugh, Cassian wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tucked her into his side, not letting himself second guess the move. “It’s almost like you should have worn that coat I mentioned when I picked you up.”

“I’d rather be cold than admit defeat,” she joked, but Cassian sensed there was a bit of truth to it, even as she leaned further into him. “Besides, you seem to like my lack of a coat.”

He did. “I wouldn’t like it if you were to die of hypothermia.”

Nesta snorted. “Once again, look who's being overdramatic.”

She let him open her door and help her into the truck, before it roared to life and he headed back into Velaris. On the ride back to her apartment, Nesta admitted she’d never been to a high school football game, much to Cassian’s dismay.

“What did you even do on Friday nights?” He demanded, glancing over at her as they stopped at a red light.

“Stayed in and read.” She said it like it should have been obvious, and honestly, it probably should have been.

“We’ll have to fix that, too,” Cassian said, just as the light turned green. “There’s nothing like being under those lights, the sounds of the game.”

Nesta lifted a brow. “There’s also nothing like curling up in bed with a good book.”

Cassian shook his head, amused. “You can’t tell me that reading is better than a real life experience.”

“Football is not a real life experience,” Nesta protested but that playfulness in her tone remained. “It’s a sport where people are either getting injured or praised way too much. Sometimes both.”

Cassian looked over to find her already watching him with the smallest of grins on her mouth. “So hateful.”

“I could say the same for you,” she crooned.

“Fine,” Cassian laughed. “You come with me to a game and I’ll read whatever book you give me.”

Eyebrows raising, Nesta asked, “Whatever book I give you? Any book of my choosing?”

“I already feel like I’m going to regret this, but yes.” Cassian pulled into the parking lot of Nesta’s building. “Any book of your choosing, as much or as little smut as you want.”

Nesta’s cheeks darkened. “I’ll start thinking then.”

He put the truck into park, looking over at her. “I can’t wait.”

The cab of the truck was silent, as her eyes met his. It felt quiet, intimate, safe. Softly, like speaking too loudly would shatter whatever was building between them, Nesta said, “I had fun tonight. Despite getting the shit scared out of me.”

“Me too,” Cassian agreed, hardly more than a whisper. “Can I walk you to your door?”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them moved.

The realization that Cassian had no idea what to do was daunting. He had never had trouble with women before but Nesta was a different breed. He’d waited years for this moment and now that it was here, he felt he was walking on glass and it would shatter beneath him at any given moment.

Nesta cleared her throat when the silence dragged on. “Should I get my door this time or…?”

That set Cassian in motion and by the time he rounded the truck and opened her door, she was doing her best — and failing — to hide her grin.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, taking her hand and helping her down.

Her laughter was quiet, but she didn’t let go of his hand as they headed up the stairs and to her door.

“So I’ll come over Wednesday?” She asked, and it was more than Cassian could have hoped for. He’d half expected her to change her mind, to pretend she forgot, and move on.

“Yes, I mean, yeah.” He was stumbling over his words and he cleared his throat. “I’ve got a bio chem lab that lets out at three, but I’m free anytime after that.”

“Then I’ll be there after three,” she said.

Cassian's hand tightened in hers as they stood on her doormat. “Sounds good.”

“Good.” With one last smile that had Cassian feeling weak, Nesta turned towards her door.

Before he could think twice, Cassian pulled on her hand and pulled her towards him until their mouths met, softly. He was still walking that line of caution even if caution was the last thing on his mind.

But she kissed him back, each touch sweet and gentle and nothing like he expected a kiss with her to be like, but far better.

He cupped her face, her lips soft and lush against his, and breathed in her scent before stepping back. The blush on her cheeks was beautiful, her eyes bright, and her breathing was shallow and quick. He wanted to kiss her again, something more than the quick meeting of their lips, but he forced himself to take another step back, to head towards his truck. “I’ll see you Wednesday,” he said, gaze locked on hers.

“Wednesday,” she repeated, voice soft, and unlocked her door. It opened with a creak and she stepped inside. “Goodnight, Cassian.”

The door closed and he was left staring at her autumn-themed wreath. So soft, there was no way she could have heard it, he breathed, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Pretty Pointy Smile Chapter 1

Summary:  Bucky was born different, and has been judged for it ever since.  His father has had enough and sells him to the circus.  The acceptance and love of his newfound family, and the beautifully fierce ringmaster, help him realize he’s not the monster everyone else made him out to be.

vampire!bucky barnes x curvy!reader This is set in more of like the 1950-60s/ish time period. Warnings: eventual smut, physical assault, a gun, a lion attack

Next chapter

*POW*

“Okay, that’s it, you’re fired! Get out of here, Barnes!” the foreman yelled.  Bucky huffed, wiping off his bloody knuckles and turning to grab his things, leaving the warehouse quickly.  Another fight, another job lost, another day for his father to be disappointed in him.  It wasn’t his fault he was born this way, why did everyone have to be so cruel?

When he got home and reported what had happened to his father, George Barnes was incensed, cursing and throwing things.  “I needed that money, James!  Why can’t you just keep your mouth shut?  That’s it, I can’t deal with you anymore.”  He grabbed Bucky by the arm and hauled him out of the house.

“Where are we going?  What are you doing?” Bucky asked, being dragged by the elbow towards the fairgrounds not far from their house.

George wouldn’t answer and kept stomping resolutely towards the large tent that had been erected overnight.  As they approached Bucky could smell the fair food, roasted peanuts, popcorn and funnel cakes being prepared, and hear the sounds of shouts from men setting things up and animals being herded around.  Zimmerman’s Freaky Circus was in town again.  George stopped once they entered the front gate and looked around, setting his sights on an unlucky carny.

“You!  You there!” he yelled, pointing at a young man rolling a barrel along.  The boy stopped, looking at George with wide eyes. 

“Me, sir?” he pointed towards himself.

“Yes, you.  Where’s the ringmaster?  I saw the ad in the paper,” George demanded.

The boy smiled, “Ah, Zimmerman, yeah follow me.”  He turned a different way and left the barrel.  George pulled Bucky along again, this time trying to pat off the dust and wipe off the sweat still on him from the warehouse.  Bucky swatted his hands away, trying to keep up with the boy.  After weaving through the workers, smaller tents and booths, they came upon a tent in the corner of the lot separated a bit from the rest.  The boy gestured to George and Bucky to wait before walking past the tent’s entrance.  They could hear a quiet discussion behind the curtains for a moment, then the boy popped back out.

“Right through here, sir,” the boy said as he held back the tent door.

“Thank you,” George said, walking briskly past the boy, slightly bumping his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, he’s always an ass,” Bucky whispered through tight lips to the boy as he passed him.  The boy only answered with a snort and an unimpressed look.  Once inside Bucky looked around a tent that looked like a world traveler’s apartment, trinkets hanging from the posts, the ground covered in a large Oriental carpet, a bed layered with pillows and fine blankets in the corner, a table set for tea and a vanity just off to the side from where they were standing with a woman seated at it.

She didn’t look at them immediately, fixing her hair and makeup in the mirror before standing and facing them directly.  Bucky’s eyes widened.  She was covered in tattoos, from what he could see that wasn’t covered by the robe she was wearing, from just underneath her jawline to every inch of skin including her fingers and toes.  Her hair was curled haphazardly, the makeup she had put on heavy and dark, her ears, neck, wrists and fingers decked in jewelry, and long nails painted a blood red color.  She didn’t seem to be wearing anything underneath the robe, making both George and Bucky blush.

“Hello, gentlemen, what can I do for you?” She greeted them, her voice soft but firm as she gave them a brilliant smile.

“I’m sorry, I was told this was the ringmaster’s tent?” George asked, looking around expectantly.

She snorted, “Yeah, you’re looking at her, wise guy.” Her face contorted into frustration.  “Y/N Zimmerman, of Zimmerman’s Freaky Circus.  Peter said something about you asking about the ad in the paper.  And you are?”

George was shocked at her attitude but quickly composed himself.  “George and James Barnes, ma’am.  Yes, I saw it said, ‘Looking for talent, oddities and the macabre’?  My son is at least one of those things,” he finished, pointing to Bucky.  Bucky felt like he could cry, hanging his head and looking away.

“And what’s his talent?” She asked, giving Bucky a quick glance, clocking his dejected state.

“Well, it’s more of a…deformity.  He was born with it.  And it’s caused me more trouble than good so, I’d like to know what your offer is for his time.”

Y/N gave George a glare, then walked over to Bucky, standing in front of him.  “May I see this…deformity?” She asked sweetly.  When Bucky looked down at her all he could see was pure curiosity.  He sighed through his nose, then slowly opened his mouth.  Y/N’s eyes widened, but she didn’t move away or seem fearful.  Where normal canines would sit in his mouth were two long fangs.

“Fascinating,” Y/N breathed.  “May I?” she asked as she brought a hand up towards his face.  Bucky hesitantly nodded but widened his mouth as she brought her fingers to his teeth, her thumb lightly running along the end of one of the fangs.  “I’m sure you get all kinds of vampire jokes,” she chuckled lightly, letting her hand fall back down.

“More like beatings,” Bucky mumbled.  Y/N’s eyes looked at him sadly, her hand momentarily reaching out to touch his arm but quickly pulling back.  She folded her arms then stepped back.

“So you can’t handle the fact that your son is different, so you want to sell him to the circus, do I understand you correctly?” she chastised George harshly, giving him another glare.  

George sputtered.  “The impertinence!  We come from Romania, Miss Zimmerman, the vampire and Count Dracula jokes are one thing but when your child looks like something from children’s ghost stories is another!  He can’t keep a job, can’t contribute to the house, can’t marry and therefore can’t have children to carry on my name.  I cannot be burdened with this any longer.”

Y/N was visibly seething but kept herself collected, her fingers gripping her arms tightly.  “What do you want for him?”

“$100.”

Bucky’s heart broke and he began to cry silently, keeping his head turned away so his father wouldn’t see.  How could this be happening?  Sell him off like cattle?  To a circus?  Was he really that unlovable?  Unwanted?

“Hm, I’ll make you a deal.  I’ll give you $500 for him,” Bucky’s eyes widened as he looked at her, “but then you will disappear from his life.  If he becomes a big act you will not go looking for him or following the circus harassing us for more money.  It will be like he’s dead to you.  Do I make myself clear?” Y/N snapped at George, her eyes murderous and daring him to refuse the offer.

“Done,” George agreed quickly, reaching his hand out.

“Oh no, Barnes, you’ll be signing a contract.  Peter?” Y/N called out.  The boy from earlier jogged in holding a clipboard with a paper and pen.  “Verbal agreements tend to be the bane of my existence, you understand,” Y/N continued, still giving George a grimace of a smile.  “Sign, then you get paid.”

George huffed at Y/N’s harshness, but quickly took the pen and signed the contract.  Once it was done Peter reappeared with a box, handing it to Y/N.  She opened it and took out a stack of bills, counting out the $500 and slapping it in George’s hand.

“Now be gone, or I will have you removed,” Y/N nearly growled at him.  George’s face scrunched as if he was going to say something back, but Peter gave him a wide eyed shake of his head as he skirted by him and left the tent.  He huffed again then turned to Bucky.

“I’m sorry, boy.  Goodbye,” he said quickly, then left the tent without a second glance.

Bucky couldn’t believe what had just happened.  As he came to grips with the new situation he found himself in he felt a small hand squeeze his arm.  He looked down and saw Y/N standing in front of him again, a reassuring smile on her face as she reached her other hand up and wiped his tears.  

“Come, James, let’s talk,” she said as she pulled him towards the table.  He let her guide him over, and she pulled out a chair for him.  Once they had both settled she started to pour him some tea.  “How do you like it?  Sugar?  Honey?  Milk?”

“Just one sugar is fine, thank you,” he mumbled, still not fully looking up at her.

Y/N made his cup and slid it over to him then made her own.  She swirled hers to mix the ingredients then took a sip, her eyes raking over him.  She licked her lips then sat back in the chair.

“James, I want to reassure you that even though I may have paid for you, that you are free to leave at any time.”  Bucky’s head jerked up at that, gawking at her in disbelief. “Yes, I know, it’s strange for me to pay that much for what could be nothing, but I believe in willing participation.  If you choose to leave and find your own way, I will not stop you.  But if you choose to stay, I think I can come up with something for you to do as an act in the show that will bring in more people.  You’ll be paid weekly for the shows at a rate that reflects whatever we earn that night, as well as $50 a week for helping the circus travel, such as set up, tear down, packing, maybe animal wrangling here and there, it all just depends on what we need done day to day.  We’ve all become like a big family in many ways.  Dysfunctional, but what family isn’t?”

Bucky thought about it.  A paying job, getting to travel around the country and get out of this town.  He had always liked the circus as a child.

“What would the act be?” he asked hesitantly.

“Well, it would be vampire related, obviously,” she gave him a sheepish look.  “It would be on the main stage in the big tent every night, so you’ll have an audience but they won’t have close access to you like a sideshow.  I’d have to iron out the details, but with this being a freaky show, I think it would be a big seller,” Y/N rattled off, a dazed look in her eyes as she pictured it in her mind.  “We’d have to give you a stage name, new wardrobe, maybe get some of those color lenses for your eyes, keep you away from the public’s eye so as not to ruin the illusion, we have a couple of acts like that,” she glanced at him, giving him a wink.  Bucky blushed.  “You would most likely still be hated, feared, unliked just because of the word vampire.  People fear what they do not understand, and that is what this circus is all about.  The scary, the strange, the macabre, the weird,” she moved her fingers around like a witch casting a spell.  “We have big name circuses to compete with nowadays, so I’m always looking for something different and new.  So, what do you say?”

Bucky eyes narrowed.  He would be judged and sneered at no matter where he went, whether it was in or out of a circus.  At least in a circus, he would be surrounded by other “oddities,” and he’d be getting paid for it.  

“Alright, I’ll do it,” he agreed, giving Y/N a small smile.  She smiled wide, clapping her hands.  “But,” he interrupted.  She sighed loudly, rolling her eyes.  He chuckled at her reaction, “I don’t go by James.  My middle name is Buchanan, and I’ve always gone by Bucky.”

“Oh, Bucky.  Alright…I like it,” she gave him a warm smile and long stare, like she was searching his eyes for something.  Bucky felt like he was being studied down to his very core under her stare, but for some reason didn’t want to look away from it.  It wasn't until he blinked rapidly as his eyes began to water that it seemed to break the spell and she cleared her throat.  “Well then, let’s introduce you to everyone!” she stood up suddenly, grabbing one of his hands and dragging him out of the tent towards the bustling carnies.

*picture found on Pinterest, it's AI so idk who the original "artist" could be*

[amberlynnmurdock]

Carnival Games

Pairing: Benjamin Poindexter x Reader

Summary: Based off this lovely request about Dex impressing his North Star by winning a bunch of carnival games. Your boyfriend is the best sniper and he takes that skill to the carnival.

Genre: FLUFF. So much fluff that I really wish Dex had this love in his story *heart clutch*

Words: 2.5k

A/N: This was so fun to write, also the ending might be REALLY CHEESY but IDC, Dex fluff is so fun and cute I was literally giggling writing this lol Thank you for the request, anon! I hope you love it! <3

He wasn’t sure if it was because of the intense training he did in Quantico or if it was simply just because of his nerves, but Dex could never fully be relaxed no matter what environment he surrounded himself in. Even at home, he was always on high alert. Checking windows, making sure his curtains completely covered them. It was second nature for him to grab the knife he kept under his pillow when he heard a strange noise down the hall. It was second nature for him to scan any crowd and look for potential threats. 

So being surrounded by loud noises, flashing lights and the smell of funnel cakes wafting in the air was definitely a less-than-ideal situation for him to be in. He’d never willingly go to a carnival—in fact, he’d rather go through the intense training he did when he first started at the FBI than buy a ticket to go to a place like this. The only reason he was here now, surrounded by these squished crows and children running, people on dates and families—God, that was the worst to see—was because of you. You were the only person he would let succumb him to this kind of torture. And you had no idea. 

At least Dex had the option to wear his baseball cap tonight. It somewhat helped in blocking out the crowds but at the same time, he needed to see everyone at every angle. Most importantly, he needed to see you. You were practically dragging him through the crowds, holding on tightly to his hand, looking back every once in a while to make sure he was okay. Overall, Dex wasn’t okay, but the moments you gave him your attention, he somewhat was. Everything around him became white noise when he focused on you. He longed for the moment it was time to go home so it can be just the two of you. 

“I’m so excited,” you looked back at Dex, whose eyes were darting between people and rides. He had that familiar look on his face you knew all too well—he was overwhelmed. You had asked him probably ten times if he was okay with going to the Brooklyn Carnival and each time, Dex said yes—even though you knew better. He wanted to so badly do the things you wanted, but the price of that was his comfort. You made a note to yourself that if you did catch him getting overwhelmed—like he was now—you’d pull him aside to bring him back down. 

“Hey,” you stopped in your tracks, pulling Dex by his hand closer to you. He was startled by the sudden stopping as he focused his dark hazel eyes on you. 

“Is everything okay?” Dex asks, “Did you see something?”

You shook your head softly, touching his cheek. “I’m okay. Everything is fine. Are you okay?” 

Dex nods his head, averting his eyes from the people that surround them. “I’m okay if you are.”

“We can leave—“

“No,” Dex interrupts you. He won’t let his nerves get in the way of your date. “I want to stay.”

“Okay,” you smiled, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Let’s go.”

You grabbed his hand again and pulled him closely through the crowd, passing the rides, food stands, and entertainment until you reached the games. Different booths surrounded the area. There were more kids around and families waiting in line for different games. The image of them all sent a pang to Dex’s heart. It was a reminder that he never had this kind of childhood—a childhood full of laughter and cotton candy and games. He can’t think of that right now, not when you’re laughing and smiling at the same thing he sees. Dex smiles at you because you’re the only thing that can make him smile right now.

“What should we play first?” You squeeze his hand a few times and meet his eyes. Dex sighs in exasperation, looking around at all the games. His attention falls on a ring toss game in front of them. 

“How about that one?”

You smile. “Sure.”

Dex was the one who led the way this time. He grabbed your hand and pulled you between people, watching them carefully, and shooting them daggers if they weren’t moving for you. At the booth, a man in his late 50s smoking a cigarette asks for two tickets from both of you to play. Dex carefully pulls them from his back pocket and hands him the tickets. 

“Alright,” the man grunts, “throw all five rings on the bottle and you win a little teddy bear.”

Dex squints his eyes and takes the rings from the man, handing them to you. You squeal in excitement and squeeze Dex’s shoulder. 

“Okay, me first,” you demand. Dex laughs lightly and steps out of your way. “I want that little teddy bear.”

“You’ll get it,” Dex encourages you. He glances at the small stuffed animal hanging from the top of the board. 

You shuffle the rings between your hands and notice each ring has a different size, obviously to show the level of difficulty to get it around the bottle. Still, it seemed easy enough, like throwing a frisbee. You squint your eyes to level the ring to the top of the bottle and flick it quickly, successfully getting the biggest—easiest—ring around the bottle. Dex smiles to himself and crosses his arms, beginning to feel more engaged with the game. 

“Just got to get four more, darlin’,” the man chuckles from the corner of the booth. He didn’t see it, but Dex shot him an intimidating glare. 

“I got it,” you reply. Dex shifts in his stance and watches you carefully. 

You level the second ring up and flick it a little too fast, flying right over the top of the bottle. You sigh in defeat—at least you have three more. Dex shifts again and watches intently. 

Without fail, you manage to miss every single last ring. Your cheeks heat in embarrassment, in a funny way that a carnival game could make you emit such an emotion, but also because your boyfriend happens to be one of the top snipers in the FBI and he just witnessed you miss each attempt. You look at Dex, shake your head, and roll your eyes in good nature.

“Oh, whatever. Your turn,” you laugh as you step aside. Dex maneuvers around you and dismisses the mocking expression on the man’s face. 

“No teddy bears yet,” he laughs. 

Dex is determined, and it’s almost comical how easy it is. 

You can’t even count the number of seconds that go by when all five rings easily land around the bottleneck by Dex’s doing. You jump up to him and squeeze his shoulders.

“DEX!!!” You squeal, “Let’s go!!”

Dex wraps his arm around your shoulders and brings you close against him. He looks up at the man under his baseball cap and smirks. 

“The little teddy bear, please,” Dex demands. 

“Alright, alright,” the man waves in defeat as he reaches for the small bear at the top of the board. “Here you go.”

Dex takes the bear from him and hands it to you with a smile. 

“You earned it,” Dex says in a low voice.

You reach up and kiss Dex on his jaw. “Let’s play another game.”

Dex laughs. “Your choice.”

You walk Dex to the middle of the path, one hand in his, the other holding the teddy bear he won for you. You look around each booth until your jaw drops and your eyes widen on the biggest stuffed duck you’ve ever seen and immediately know you must have. 

“Oh my, God, Dex,” you gasp, walking to the booth like a magnet. “I need to win that giant duck.”

Dex follows your gaze and lets out a loud, genuine laugh, only you could cause him to have. Because of course, you need that giant stuffed duck. It had to be half his size, and so round you could probably use it as a pillow. Its orange legs flopped beneath its giant yellow body. Something like that brought no joy to Dex but seeing you excited over it did. 

“I’ll go first though,” you say to him. “I do want to earn one of these things.”

“All you,” Dex gently bumps your shoulder in encouragement. 

You walk up to the booth and ask the older woman how to win the giant stuffed duck. She laughs and playfully punches the stuffed animal among the smaller ducks that people are more likely to win. 

“No one’s won this thing in all the years I’ve come here,” she says. “You’ve got to shoot every moving duck on this platform in under two minutes. There’s 15 ducks. The more ducks you shoot, the faster the machine goes. If you can manage that, you’ll win this giant duck. If you only hit, let’s say, five of them, you win a rubber ducky.”

“Okay,” you nod carefully, pondering your technique in hitting all the ducks. “We’d like to play.”

“That’ll be three tickets.”

You look at Dex who already is reaching for the tickets in his back pocket. He hands the woman the tickets and goes back to watching you from behind. It’s a seated game, with a fake gun attached to the table that shoots tiny rubber bullets. The gun is locked in this position to ensure it stays facing the game, with a little movement to swirl around. You take a seat in front of the fake gun and place your hands on it, realizing you’ve never held something even remotely close to a weapon. A thought dawned on you that Dex does, quite often for his job, and for some reason that tugged your heart. You hoped a game like this didn’t make him uncomfortable. So when you looked back at him once more and he offered you the tiniest of smiles, that tells you all you needed to know. 

The woman went out of the way and flipped a switch to start the game. The tune of Ring Around the Rosie started to play from the speakers as the ducks on the board began to move around. You aimed at one of the ducks in the top row and hit it smack in the middle. The clock was ticking, and the more you hit the ducks, the faster the machine moved, making it impossible to aim and shoot at them all. As soon as the timer dinged, the machine stopped and a mocking tune played from the speakers. 

“Damn it! So close,” you said in exasperation. The woman chuckled. You got up to meet Dex who was already handing her the tickets so he could play. 

You stood behind Dex as he took a seat in front of the fake gun. Dex didn’t even look at you as he sat down and focused on the game, which made you smile. It was funny to see a tough and seasoned FBI agent as he was getting competitive over a silly carnival game—it meant a lot to you that he was only doing it just so he could win you a stuffed animal. It meant even more that he seemed to be having a good time. 

The woman started up the machine again just as Dex rolled his shoulders to relax. His fingers twitched on the trigger of the fake gun. Once the music started playing, Dex wasted no time in shooting at every single duck at moved, proving that the speed of the machine had nothing on his skill. You watched from behind him with your mouth open in amusement. Even the woman was stunned, as she stood in the corner of the booth and stared at each duck go down in under one minute. 

“Well,” the woman sighed as the machine began to play victorious music. “That’s a first.” 

Dex let out the breath he was holding once the fake gun locked in place and the machine of ducks reset itself. He placed his hands on his thighs and watched as the woman unwound the giant duck stuffed animal from the prize board. You were already waiting for her at the corner of the booth in excitement. When she finally brought it over, you gave it a big squeeze and went over to Dex. 

“Dex!” You said in excitement, “I can’t believe you did it! I mean, I can believe it, because my boyfriend is the best sniper in the FBI, but you really won it for me!” 

Dex stood up from the seat, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck, your bodies separated by the ridiculously large duck. He held you even tighter. 

“Thank you,” he whispered against your skin. That’s all he needed to say for you to know what he meant. 

◎◎◎

As the night went on, you and Dex played as many aiming games as you could find. And every time you played, you played the best you could—but when it was Dex’s turn, you always left the booth with another stuffed animal. On the way out of the carnival, Dex asked if you could stop at a funnel cake booth to take some home. That wasn’t a hard request to grant. 

Now, sitting in the car of the subway, Dex sits with the giant duck in his lap as you carry the rest of the stuffed animals in your arms. 

“I’ll probably donate all this,” you sighed, feeling a bit tired. 

“That’s nice of you,” Dex replies, turning his head to look at you. When he looked forward again, he saw the reflection of you both sitting with the stuffed animals in your hands. Dex looked the silliest, with the giant duck in his lap. You laughed and rested your head on his shoulder, ignoring the powder from the funnel cake on his denim jacket. 

“We’re keeping the duck, though,” you said, resting your eyes. 

Dex laughed and held it tighter in his lap. “We worked hard for it.”

“I hope you had a good time, Dex,” you whispered. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, matching your tone. “I did have a good time.”

In the reflection again, he sees you take a deep breath as you finally let yourself fall asleep on his shoulder. He looks around the car of the subway—not many people are on. Not many threats to worry about. He kisses your temple before focusing on your surroundings again until the subway reaches your stop. 

When the two of you finally reach Dex’s apartment, you set the stuffed animals on his couch carefully but carry the duck into his bedroom. You placed it perfectly in the middle of his bed and smiled to yourself. Dex wraps his arms around you from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck again. You lean into his warmth as he caresses your body softly, his strong hands moving up and down the length of your torso. 

“I’d play all those games again to win you more ridiculously sized ducks,” Dex whispers. “And I’ll never miss one shot.” 

[soullumii]

carnival lights | joel miller x f!reader

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you take joel to the yearly summer carnival.

warnings/tags: pure fluff, little bit of sexual humor, fake gun use! (water guns), carnival fun, no outbreak!joel, soft!joel, modern au, food, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s, joel is in his 40s), pet names (peach, darlin', sweetheart, baby), established relationship. (can be read as part of the stranded universe!), NO USE OF Y/N

word count: 3.5k

a/n: something cute while i work on stranded part 2. there's no plot, just vibes

taglist: @hecatombix @thatmemechick @sexygaypalpatine

“I can’t believe you dragged me out to this mess,” Joel grumbles. 

Warm summer air settles over the both of you as screams from excited kids and terrified people on rollercoasters echo around you in the night. Joel’s scowl is illuminated by flashing lights from various pop-up mirror mazes, haphazardly put together ferris wheels, and scandalously painted funhouses.

Seriously, though, why does the children’s funhouse have a mural of a Parisian can-can dancer plastered on the front of it, her fish-netted vagina visible from quite literally any angle within this carnival?

It’s so incredibly ridiculous, and you absolutely love it. You just love carnivals—always have. 

Even if they’re probably a safety hazard, even if the creepy clowns wandering about scared you a lot as a kid, and even if the sweet aroma of funnel cakes and fried Oreos and cotton candy mixes with the skunky smell of cheap weed. It brings back memories. And yeah, it might give you a headache after a few minutes, but it’s everything you adore, even if you’re in your late twenties now. 

“It’s fun, Joel. Have you ever heard of fun?” You tease, dragging him along the dirt path littered with cigarette butts and mystery liquids. You get a whiff of hot dog.

Joel must get it too, because his nose scrunches and he steps aside a dubious pile of something inscrutable. “My definition of fun ain’t exactly this.”

“Look! That looks fun!” You point excitedly toward a ride called “The Zipper” rising high in the sky, its metal capsules filled with adrenaline junkies swinging back and forth as the entire ride spins on an axis.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel swears under his breath.

“What? Don’t you want to ride it?” 

When you glance over at him, he’s looking particularly green, though you can’t exactly tell if that’s from the spinning cups next to you flashing green and white or if he’s truly feeling unwell.

“Are you okay?” You ask, sincerity coating your words as you turn to him. 

“I’m fine,” he shakes his head. “I just—you should’ve taken Ellie and Sarah with you. I’m not any fun at these kinds of things.”

“Joel…” you say, a teasing smile growing as your hand lands on his arm. “Are you scared?” 

He scowls, but hesitates in his answer, gaze darting away from you. “No.”

Liar. “Joel, it's okay if you’re scared,” you say. “We don’t have to ride any rides. I wanted to come with you just to spend time with you.”

His gaze softens and he sighs. “I know, peach. I wanna spend time with you, too. And for the record, I’m not scared, I’m just concerned about… my back.”

“Riiight,” you smirk. “Let’s go find something to do that won’t hurt your back then.”

You find a funnel cake stand charging $15 per cake. Joel grumbles about how ridiculous, and frankly, illegal it is that they’re charging so much for what is basically a scribble of fried dough as he pulls out his wallet.

“It's about the culture of it all, Joel,” you declare as you take a bite of doughy and powdered sugar goodness. “It’s just what carnival goers do. It’s only once a year, they can make the sacrifice.” You tear off a piece of it and give it to him. 

“I guess seein’ Sarah smile after eatin’ fried oreos was worth it," he relents as he takes the cake and plops it into his mouth, humming gratefully and yes! you’re starting to wear him down! 

“Exactly.”

After you both finish your funnel cake among a screaming swath of kids, you drag him toward the farm animals. This, he has to like. 

You enter into the tent, Joel’s hand tucked in yours, and the smell of manure and dirt immediately choke the both of you, the scent trapped in by the heat and the plastic material of the tarp. Joel somehow seems to look even worse than he did when you mentioned the Zipper.

“These poor animals,” he whispers, eyes wide as he takes in the fences sectioning off llamas and sheep and highland cattle. “They should be out wanderin’ in a field.”

“They do, Joel,” you insist, squeezing his hand. “It’s just for tonight. Come on, let’s go pet one.”

After a snot-nosed child stumbles away from the sheep pen, Joel makes his way over. He frowns down at them, reaching a hand in through the fence to pet them. The sheep inch forward, pressing their wet noses into his palm, and he strokes their soft wool lovingly. Your heart flutters at the sight.

And then you hear him whispering to them: “I’ll get you out of here.”

Before Joel can do something drastic, like wrench open the fence on pure strength alone (which you know he is absolutely capable of), you drag him out of the tent. Your spirits are extinguished, the night feeling more and more like a failure. You have to get him to have fun, somehow.

“Those poor animals,” he says again, shakes his head as you draw him toward the game booths.

“They’ll be okay, Joel,” you reassure gently, rubbing his shoulder blades. 

He just shakes his head again, and your heart fractures. You plaster on a smile and set him in front of a booth with two plastic water guns tethered to a ledge, at the far end of the booth are targets bobbing up and down, moving along a track.

“Let’s play this!” You say, handing the teenage booth manager a dollar bill. He chews his gum apathetically, and pulls the lever to start up the game. 

This piques Joel’s interest and he watches you grab the pistol-shaped water gun, aiming it at a target, your eye winking as you train your gaze on a target. 

“No, no, I can’t let you shoot like that,” he says, grabbing the pistol. He maneuvers your hands, “Left squeezes on the right, darlin’.” He then adjusts your arms and tries to grab the pistol from you, but it's sturdy in your new grasp, not going anywhere.

“There,” he says, proud, and grabs the other gun, pointing it at the first target. “Good luck, peach. You're gonna need it.”

“We’ll see about that,” you tease. You have no idea what you’re getting into.

“Start,” the booth manager monotonously drawls.

Before you can even pull the trigger, three of Joel’s targets are down, and he is cackling as he obliterates the others on his side. Your jaw drops, eyes widening.

Because, what the hell?

You scramble to catch up, pressing the trigger rapidly at your own targets, but only a few hits land. By the time the bored teenager calls ‘game’, Joel’s got his arms over his chest, watching you with a satisfied smile as you try in vain to shoot the last three targets on your side.

You turn to him in shock, but your bones feel light, your pulse beating rapidly because at least he’s finally having fun. And, admittedly, his skill is attractive.

“You should see your face right now,” he laughs.

“You won this,” the teenager drones, holding out a big fluffy teddy bear, half the size of Joel. 

“I’m keepin’ this,” Joel says, grabbing the bear and holding it close. He looks ridiculous, holding that giant teddy bear in his corded arms, peppered locks falling over his forehead. Ridiculously handsome. Ridiculously cute. You've got to keep this going.

“What? Seriously? You’re not going to give your girlfriend the bear you won?” You pout. He just smiles wider. 

“Darlin’, you’ve gotta earn this. Your shootin’ was pathetic.” He grabs another dollar from his wallet and hands it to the red-headed teen. “Another one, kid.”

Instead of grabbing his own pistol when the game starts up again, Joel comes in close around your back, warm chest pressing against your shoulder blades as his hands skim down your arms. He lays a chaste kiss on the side of your throat and your heart beats rapidly like a bird’s, warmth settling within you, a flush dusting your cheeks at his proximity. 

His broad palms land on yours, and he adjusts your hold again like he did last time. “This was good. Your aim, on the other hand…”

“I’ve never shot a fucking gun before, Joel,” you defend.

“This is a water gun, peach.” You grumble as he drags your arms up, sets them in a position that is honestly not very comfortable, but you can see how it might be easier for aiming. 

“Aim that ‘lil notch at the top of the gun in the middle of your target.” You follow his instruction dutifully. “Good, now shoot.”

It’s all in good fun, the gun light and cheap in your hand, but you treat it as if you truly are about to shoot a real gun, if only because your competitive nature likes to take over. You take a deep breath and let it out, then pull the trigger. The target goes down swiftly.

Joel pulls back, grinning down at you. “Nice job, peach.”

You preen at his praise.

“Alright, now hit the next one.” 

You do just that. He holds his hand up for a high five and you slam your palm onto his, laughing giddily. "I'm so fucking good at this!"

He hisses, shaking his stinging hand out, “Why do you always high five so hard?”

“The game’s almost done,” the teenager warns.

You turn and deflate at the sight of ten targets still standing, confidence leaving your body in one fell swoop. You have about twenty seconds to shoot the last targets, and you wilt, knowing that’s absolutely not going to happen. You gaze sadly at the stuffed whale hanging from the awning. 

Joel, noticing your disappointment, grabs his own pistol and fires off at his targets, each painted bullseye flinging back as the water hits it, the targets dropping one by one in quick succession. Even the moving ones he finds easily, spraying them with firm focus, eyebrows furrowed over his hard eyes. 

He finishes with five seconds to spare, and a smirk on his lips. He makes a show to pretend to blow smoke away from the water gun’s barrel, and you can't help but laugh. You never see him this goofy, and it makes your body tingle with happiness.

The booth manager rolls his eyes and gets the whale down, handing it to Joel. You give him the biggest puppy eyes you can manage, lips puckered in a pout, and you can see the moment it hits him right in the heart, his smile growing soft, the way he looks away from you, turning to try and hide it. But he can’t, and you tremble at the sight feeling so full, so warm. 

“Come on, Joel. I’m never going to be as good as you–which by the way, where the fuck did you learn to do that?” You say, grabbing the tail of the whale and tugging. 

"Growin' up on a farm, darlin'. Tommy was always wantin' to shoot the ducks."

"Ah, so you're a master at duck hunting, huh?"

He shrugs. "You could say that."

He tugs the whale away from your grasp, gesturing to the booth. "Alright, one more game. Come on baby, you can do it."

You groan, and he hands another dollar over. The kid looks even more bored. Maybe even annoyed at this point. You don't blame him. You grab the pistol, and get to shooting, not without spraying some water at Joel first. He doesn’t even flinch.

Five targets later (you never could get the full ten), you're whooping and hollering as the kid hands you a fluffy monkey plushie.

"There we go!" Joel praises. “Nice goin’ peach!”

You do a little happy dance, not caring if you look ridiculous, and Joel tucks you into his side, throwing another dollar bill at the apathetic teen.

“For your patience,” he says. You giggle loudly into your palm.

“I don’t get paid enough to be here,” the kid mumbles as Joel tugs you away and back through the carnival.

You look up at him, taking in his carefree expression, the content smile on his face, and the way the lights flash off his eyes, making them sparkle. His strong arm is wrapped around your waist, your cheek pressed into his shoulder.

“Finally having fun?”

He looks down at you, eyebrow quirking. “What’d’ya mean? I’ve been havin’ fun this whole time.”

You stop, pulling back to really look at him, blinking in disbelief. “What? But you’ve seemed so… upset. The rollercoasters, the funnel cake...the animals."

Joel’s smile slips, and a clear sincerity takes hold in his eyes. “Darlin’ none of that matters to me. Just bein’ with you is enough to make anythin’ fun.”

“Oh,” is all you can say, nerves thrumming, mind racing.

“I’m sorry I made you feel otherwise, I'm not very good with emotions," he says, threading his fingers with yours, and your heart stutters. You knew that. He’s always been a closed book, and even if he does decide to be more open, it can be hard to truly decipher how he feels. Though he’s always quick to assure you that you mean everything to him.

“I’ll ride a damn rollercoaster with you anytime if you really want me to.”

This is why you love him so damn much.

You beam, though it turns teasing, “Thanks, Joel, but I don’t want to hurt you.” You poke his lower back.

Joel chuckles. “My back is fine. I’m just scared.”

“Oh really? Finally admitting it, Miller?“

"You know I struggle with admitting my flaws, darlin'."

"Right, because you hardly have any."

"Exactly."

"Well, anyway, I have an idea."

"Do ya now?”

You drag him toward the giant ferris wheel stretching high into the sky, the neon lights climbing its spokes flashing excitedly, drawing the carnival goers in.

You settle in a seat with Joel next to you, though because of the long line, you're forced to be seated with another couple across the way. An older couple, with matching t-shirts and candy necklaces.

"Hey there!" The woman chirps. "What a lovely night, ain't it?"

Joel nods awkwardly, "Sure is."

"It's beautiful," you add.

It truly is, a gentle breeze stirs the warm air, driving away mosquitos and the Texan humidity. The navy sky is clear, only a few fluffy clouds sprinkled about. You’d spend the entire night out here if you could.

"I'm Sharon, my husband Burt and I have been comin' to this carnival for the past fifty years," she says, gesturing to the man in overalls beside her.

"That's amazing," you say honestly. "I’d like to have a tradition like that, too.”

You tell her your and Joel’s names, ignoring the latter’s pleading glance at you by smiling at Sharon and Burt and complimenting their matching shirts.

Burt's says: Nothing Sense We're and hers says: Makes When Apart.

You despise the shirts deeply, but you might as well be friendly to the people you'll be stuck with for the next fifteen minutes.

"Thanks darlin'! Are you two a couple?"

You take Joel's hand, "Yep! Finally reeled this slippery fish in."

"Jesus Christ," Joel grumbles under his breath. You try not to laugh.

"Older men, so evasive, am I right?" Sharon whispers, a hand coming up to shield her mouth from her husband, as if he can't hear her in this tiny space.

"I hear you, sister.”

Joel rubs his thumb and forefinger against his temple.

"Well, enjoy your ride," she beams. "Just beware, my hubby gets gassy when we get halfway up."

You choke on a shocked laugh, your palm slapping over your lips. You lean into Joel, eyes wide, who looks green once again.

"Oh my god," you hiss to him.

"Now look what you've done. We're 'bout to get chloroformed by farts."

You can’t hide your laugh this time, “Joel!"

The ferris wheel jerks, and Joel's hand tightens around yours as it begins to ascend. You notice the tick in his jaw, the way his gaze pointedly darts from the spokes of the wheel to the pole in the center of the seat and back.

"Are you scared of ferris wheels too?" You ask.

"No," he hisses. "I'm scared of state carnival ferris wheels. They set this piece of shit up in three days. How can you even trust it?"

"I just like to think about possible ways I'd survive it."

"Yeah, like what? Grabbing onto the pole and just hanging there 'til they get ya?"

"Exactly, see, it'll be fine."

"That's if the whole thing doesn't detach."

"I think it's more likely we'll die from suffocating by old man farts than this thing detaching."

That gets a laugh out of Joel, and his gaze finally finds the land stretching out beneath you as the ferris wheel rises. The moon hangs high above the clouds, bright and full, and stars dot the dark sky like jewels sewn on a blanket. The breeze ruffles his hair, and you wish to run your hands through it.

"This is nice," he says. "I'm glad I came out here with you."

"You didn't have much of a choice, but I'm glad you're enjoying it."

You hear the man across from you pass gas, and you hide a grimace.

Joel leans in to whisper in your ear, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin making you shiver. "This would be pretty romantic if it weren't for Mr. and Mrs. Clause over there."

"Watch it, you'll be approaching that age soon."

"I've got at least twenty years, peach. Maybe you'll be sick of me by then."

"Oh no," you shake your head, looking earnestly into his eyes. "I'll gratefully smell your farts 'til the end, Joel."

"You're messed up," he grimaces.

You just smile at him, and he grins back, his arm slung over the back of the seat, his thumb massaging your neck, and you melt into him, content to watch the world shrink as you near the top.

Eventually the ferris wheel comes to a stop at the top, and you gaze out across the dark world, head resting on Joel's shoulder. He pulls you in close.

"It's time for the kiss!" Sharon exclaims, grabbing Burt's fraying overalls and tugging him in to plant a kiss right on his lips. He melts right into her, and in mere seconds, you and Joel are witness to a geriatric couple making out.

"Ain't this somethin'," Joel says.

"Oh. My. God."

Sharon pulls back after a good thirty seconds, and turns to you and Joel. "Alright! Your turn!"

"Oh no, that's okay," you say, waving your hand. Joel is private in his affections, though his little show at the target booth earlier might say otherwise. Generally, he prefers keeping you to himself.

But tonight, he's full of surprises.

"C'mon, peach. Let's do it. Let’s give these kind folks a show, like they did for us."

"Yes! He gets it!" Sharon bounces excitedly. "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

You've been wanting to kiss him all night, so you're really not against it. Though, it's still weird, and you give Joel a pained look.

"I'll give you the whale for this," he promises.

"And the bear," you argue.

"Fine. And the bear."

You grin, and then his hand is at the back of your neck, pulling you in, his nose brushing your cheek as he slots your lips together. He tastes like funnel cake and cotton candy and you honestly don't want this night to end.

Your eyes flutter shut as he adjusts you to deepen the kiss, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip. Your hands plant on his chest, nails digging into the fabric stretching over his firm pecs.

"Woo! Yeah! Kiss her hard! Kiss her really good.”

Your lip is still caught between his teeth when Joel slowly pulls away, eyes trained angrily on Sharon and Burt. He clears his throat as leans back in his seat, and you avoid eye contact with the very strange couple across from you. Joel's hand is hot on your exposed thigh, and now you really wish you weren't fifty feet in the air stuck with some very questionable folks.

Finally, five minutes later you touch the ground again.

"Y'all have fun now!" Sharon squeaks and steers Burt toward the cowboy-themed carousel.

"Have a good night you two," Joel says, faintly as they beeline away from you, almost like you were the weird ones.

He hands you the whale but holds the bear for you as you make your way back to Joel's pickup.

"Well, that was something," you say.

"I don't think I'll get that image out of my head. Or the smell," Joel's nose scrunches.

You stop, turning toward him. "I'm sorry about this. I thought it would be fun. We'd play games and share a romantic kiss on the ferris wheel and feed the animals-"

The words fade as Joel's palm settles on your cheek, his thumb running across your bottom lip, his other hand landing on your waist. "Darlin', we did all of that."

"Yeah, but it all sucked. I can't shoot for shit. And you don't like the animals being all cooped up, and then Sharon and Burt practically eating each other in front of us, then getting turned on by our kissing? You don't think I saw Burt's hard-on?"

His eyes widen in disgusted shock. "His what?"

Your eyes well up. "I’m sorry, Joel."

He shakes his head, pulling you into his chest. "Peach, I had a great time. I love doing whatever you love. I love you, okay? So next year, you can drag me out here again and we can be Sharon and Burt's spank bank material and I'll enjoy it just as much as I did today."

Your laugh is watery against his chest, and he tilts your chin up to softly press his lips against yours again, this time shielded from the hungry gaze of strange old people. He thumbs away your tears.

"By the way," he whispers against your lips. "I liked watchin' you fail at shootin'. It's cute."

You glare half-heartedly at him, pushing him off of you and rounding to the passenger side of the truck. "I always knew you were into humiliation."

"Maybe we should try it, just to know for sure," he smirks, leaning against the door frame, towering over you.

You look him up and down, eyeing the muscles of his forearms and the way his t-shirt stretches across his broad chest. Your voice comes out lower than you expect it to.

“Get in the damn truck, Miller."

"Yes ma'am."

[cwritesforfun]

Hazel Callahan x Fem!Reader: Local Fair

** I do not own the characters from the movie, Bottoms

Y/N = Your Name

Masterlist

Hazel's POV

I walk up to PJ and Josie only to just stand by them for awhile. They talk about Juvy and their crushes. I tell them my crush is Y/N and they are shocked. They don't see us together. If only they knew that Y/N and I have worked on group projects together where we did well and we bonded. She's so beautiful and smart and perfect. I would die for her gladly.

Isabel, Brittany, and Y/N walk over. Josie tries and fails to flirt with Isabel. PJ also tries and fails with Brittany. I didn't even try to flirt with Y/N because as soon as she waved and said hi to me, words escaped me. She leaves me speechless.

I'm standing in line for a funnel cake when I feel my shoulder being tapped. I turn and it's Y/N. I say, "Hey lass... ugh that was horrible. I'm sorry Y/N. What's up?" She laughs and answers, "I just was wondering if you wanted to talk as we waited in line." I nod and she moves to stand next to me. Conversation flows between us easily and we get our funnel cakes. We continue walking around the local fair talking and eating snacks.

Two weeks later...

We just got to Y/N's house and I'm on her bed across from her as we work on a group project. We could've finished in class if we wanted to, but we didn't. Did she just want to spend more time with me? She invited me over and was nervous about it. Does she maybe like me? No. She couldn't be interested. She can't be. There is no world in which Y/N is into me.

I ask, "Hey, can I ask you something?" Y/N answers, "Of course you can. What's up?" I answer, "If you had these friends and you had a crush on one, would you tell them? Because wouldn't you be scared of losing them and wouldn't you be scared of rejection?" She laughs and answers, "I am shy about my romantic feelings for others, so I probably would just pine in quiet." I smile and she smiles back at me. She then says, "But if I were you and more confident in my feelings, then yeah you should tell them. Rejection is better than never knowing if your feelings are requited." I nod and ask, "Promise you won't hate me?" She answers, "I could never." I smile and say, "I could be reading this all wrong, but uh... I like you a lot and always have." She smiles and says, "So I'm the hypothetical friend then, huh." I nod and she says, "I um... I like you too, Hazel. I have for a while, but I only realized that is what I was feeling when I saw you at the fair a few weeks ago. I just saw you smiling at me and knew I liked you. I went out of my way to get funnel cake just to talk to you." I reply, "I could barely talk to you when I first saw you at the fair. You make me nervous." She replies, "You make me nervous too." I reply, "So, would you maybe want to go on a date this week?" She answers, "Yes. I'd be happy to go on a date with you." I smile.

Masterlist

[sibillascribbles08]

People can have their gripes about Draxum’s redemption arc (lord knows I do though most of it is to blame on the massive cut that season 2 got) but I think there’s a lot of misunderstanding Mikey’s involvement.

Mikey is not stupid or naive and definitely not out of character for how he chose to treat Draxum in s2. His kindness is calculated, and it’s not like what we see is all that’s probably going on with that situation like

A) It’s probably been at least a couple of weeks, give or take, since Draxum moved into that apartment judging from how April talks about the situation. “Normally, it’s just a lot of clip cloppin” Like yes he’s still considered a new neighbor but that could imply he’s been there anywhere from a few days to maybe even a month. During that time it’s easy to assume Mikey has been sneaking off to check in on him.

B) Mikey is not stupid. He’s not stupid. And he probably learned on day one that Draxum poses absolutely no threat to him. Probably when he found Draxum on the street, the Baron might have lashed out much like how he did with Raph only to fail at summoning any of his vines and physically just looking like hell. Mikey knows even if Draxum turned on him, he could probably kick his fresh ass and throw him in the garbage.

And to add to this, Draxum is allowing Mikey to jump on a trampoline in his house in a dinosaur outfit. He only slowly shoves Mikey off of him when he gets too close at the dinner table. Mikey feels no threat from this sheep man because he probably hasn’t even attempted to make himself one since Mikey found him.

C) Mikey is being kind because, in the words of Everything Everywhere All at Once, it’s how he chooses to fight. He’s approaching the situation with a cement wall of positivity because he believes it WILL get results if he sticks with it. This is not entirely unbased. There are situations in the past where choosing to be kind or helpful has resulted in victory for him and his siblings so it’s reasonable to think that sticking to his guns will turn out positive results.

D) But, in spite of that, he’s not 100% unmovable. Raph points out at the amusement park that this plan may fail (due to Draxum’s reaction to funnel cakes) and Mikey even admits “Dr. Positive is becoming Dr. Somewhat Disappointed.” He’s aware that all this work may in fact amount to nothing, he’s just determined not to let that get to him, at least not as long as there’s still a chance it could work out.

And finally, E) Kindness =/= naivety. You can be kind to someone and not trust them. You can be kind to someone with the awareness that, true, maybe it won’t change anything, or maybe it will. Mikey’s character just believes that its worth trying.

TLDR: Mikey isn’t being stupid or OOC for being nice to Draxum in s2. It is calculated and it is intentional on his part and he’s aware that it may not turn out the way he wants, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to try.

[danganphobia]

post getting together laishuro college au gimme anything idc

ok have drabble :)

Toshiro tapped his foot against the ground, trying not to gaze at his phone every two seconds. Laios said he was on his way, with an unsettling amount of emojis to show how excited he was. The only thing Toshiro sent back was a simple smiley face.

Play it cool, play it cool, play it cool. Kabru's words of advice lingered in his head. He was at the carnival an hour early. Crowds of people were gathered here, traversing the park.

He was suddenly nervous that a passerby would think he was getting stood up.

"Toshiro!"

Looking up, Toshiro locked eyes with his boyfriend walking up to him - dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans. It's nothing extraordinary yet it still made Toshiro's heart jump that he made it all this way just to see him. It still didn't feel real. Toshiro smiled, standing up, and Laios spread his arms to immediately welcome him into a warm embrace.

His cypress scented cologne wafted through Toshiro's nostrils, wrapping his arms around Laios.

"Hi." He said, unable to contain his racing heart.

"Hey," Laios was just as bashful when he pulled away, smiling down at Toshiro. "Your hair's down," he said, touching a strand of Toshiro's hair, dark silk slipping between his fingers. "You look... really, really pretty." He breathed out, a tint of pinks in his cheeks as he admired Toshiro's outfit. He'd also have to thank Kabru for that, later.

Feeling his own cheeks grow hot, Toshiro smiled. "Thank you, Laios."

Laios' smile grew wider, taking Toshiro's hand in his.

"C'mon! Let's go! I'm dying to try out all the rides!"

"Excuse me?" Toshiro asked as Laios pulled him further into the park. "Did you just say all the rides?"

Laios was laughing, but Toshiro wasn't. When he said he was going to take Toshiro on every ride, he meant it. The nausea settling at the pit of Toshiro's stomach intensified by the time they got off the spinning ride.

"Please," he begged, holding onto Laios' arm. "Can we sit down somewhere?"

"Oh, you okay?" Laios' hand was on Toshiro's back, eyebrows narrowing in concern. "Sorry, we can stop going on any more rides if you want."

"No, it's fine..." Toshiro said as they sat down on one of the benches. "I'd prefer we just avoid the intense ones, is all."

"Are you sure?" For him to be so attentive and considerate like this made Toshiro's heart melt, and out of guilt, he didn't want to cut their time short. He liked Laios' company, he just had a weak stomach when it came to roller coaster rides.

"Yes." Toshiro nodded with a smile.

Laios let out a sigh of relief, grinning. "You hungry? I could get us something to eat."

"Sure."

"What do you want?"

"Um, just get anything." Toshiro didn't have a strong preference for carnival food. As long as he ate something, that was fine. He was a little hungry anyway. Laios wasted no time, telling him to wait so he could go and get them carnival food.

Toshiro tried funnel cake for the first time; it wasn't so bad. While it wasn't a favorite, it was worth seeing Laios devour an entire plate in one sitting, wiping the sugar on the corner of his lips with a napkin, only for Laios to pull him close and pepper his face with surprise kisses.

He kissed Toshiro on the lips. Toshiro tasted the sweetness, pushing Laios' face away, cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

"I've already had enough sugar."

"Really, because I need an overdose."

Toshiro snorted uncontrollably at what sounded like Laios' attempt at flirting. "What on earth is that supposed to mean?"

"You smell and taste really sweet." Laios said, like it was the easiest thing to say in the world. Toshiro averted his gaze, facepalming.

"Laios..."

Laios chuckled, taking Toshiro's hand. "Wanna check out the prize games with me?" Just like that, they were back to normal. Maybe Toshiro shouldn't be so afraid that things would be different between them. Aside from the flirting and Laios' tendencies to engage in lots of PDA, it was as if nothing had really changed at all. It made him more comfortable when they approached the prize games.

These silly games weren't really Toshiro's thing, but he didn't mind watching Laios play and cheering him on. He won, and when the employee behind the counter asked what kind of prize he would like Laios looked at Toshiro suddenly.

"Which one of those plushies you want, babe?"

The word babe caught Toshiro off-guard, then he snapped out of his daze.

"Oh, it's okay-"

"Please? Can I get you something? I really want to!"

"Laios..."

"Please!"

"You two are so adorable," the woman behind the counter commented with a fond smile. With scarlet cheeks, Toshiro sighed. He scanned over the display of prizes, plush toys sitting on a shelf. His eyes landed on a particular beetle.

Laios' eyes followed to where he was staring.

"He wants that one," he said, pointing at the horrendous beetle sitting on the middle shelf.

They left, with Toshiro holding the giant beetle to his chest. In exchange, he bought Laios a giant stick of cotton candy. They end up sharing bites out of it throughout the night, exchanging shy smiles with each other.

The last ride of the night was the ferris wheel. A ride much more suitable to Toshiro's tastes. Laios' was pointing out the window the whole time, on a tangent about something Toshiro couldn't really remember, since he was hyperfocused on their knees and arms touching, spending the ride within close proximity.

Not wanting to call it a night, they wandered the fair for some time, not really going on any rides, just enjoying each other's company. Laios goaded Toshiro into taking pictures, as they were so caught up in the fun it had slipped his mind. Laios had also taken pictures of Toshiro as they ate more carnival food, covering his face because he thought he was the opposite of photogenic, but Laios would beg to differ.

Toshiro took the bus while Laios drove, so he drove Toshiro back to his dorm later.

They're recounting all the memorable parts of their time at the fair, Laios talking animatedly and making Toshiro laugh, stopping at his door. Thankfully, Kabru would be spending the night with Mithrun, so neither of them had to worry about their moment together being interrupted.

Their laughter faded into loud silence. Toshiro holding onto his rhino beetle and staring down at his feet, and Laios looking anywhere but at Toshiro.

"Um," he was the first to speak. "Did you... did you have fun tonight?"

Toshiro nodded.

"Me too," Laios grinned. "Would you... like to do this again sometime?"

"Yes," Toshiro replied. "I'd love to."

Laios played it cool at first, then he pumped his fist in the air, shouting "yes!" making Toshiro giggle.

"And Marcille and Falin were telling me that fairs wouldn't be a good idea."

"Well... they're not wrong, but," Toshiro met Laios' gaze, walking up to him and pecking him on the lips, a surge of confidence that surprised him - and Laios as well. "I had a nice time with you anyway."

Laios blinked rapidly, spluttering, cheeks beet red. Toshiro couldn't help but laugh behind his palm.

"Y-You can't do that! Toshiro! That's not fair! You're just so cute!" Laios whined, ruffling his hands in his hair, flustered by the gesture. "I wasn't ready!"

Toshiro waited patiently for him to calm down, looking at Laios. "Are you ready now?" He asked, a little coy, as it was nice to have the upper hand in this scenario.

Laios exhaled, something more intense hidden beneath his eyes that made a shiver course through Toshiro's spine.

He stepped closer, and his hands found Toshiro's cheeks, tucking his hair behind his ears. Golden eyes flickered down to Toshiro's lips.

"Mhm," Laios nodded, leaning in. "Can I kiss you again, Toshiro? Because fuck, I really want to. So badly."

Toshiro responded by using one hand to yank the string of Laios' sweatshirt, bringing his head down to slot their lips together firmly, giving Laios the opportunity to do more than just kiss - but make out right outside Toshiro's dorm for maybe an hour or two, the taste of cotton candy still on Laios' lips.