Multifandom Imagines (and a Headcanon set here and there)

Bar Imagines - Joe Manco x Reader

Joe and you sat at the bar, sipping your whiskey and planning your next hunt. There was no sign of affection whatsoever between the two of you, for you were really focused on your job. To the untrained observer, it would seem like the two of you were just friends. In fact, that is what induced a random sleaze to sit next to you. He put his elbow on the table and rested his head on his hand, facing you, in a terrible attempt to come off as charming and flirtatious. You had seen Joe do better - much better. Then again, you always thought that of him... "Hey," the sleaze slurred, clearly drunk, "whaddaya say you come with me?"

As soon as he had sat down, you knew that Joe had tensed up. The blonde was still gripping onto your hand like a vice - but not hard enough to hurt you. "I'm attached," you patiently said, trying to keep calm so that Joe would calm down too.

"Yeah? Ta who?" he challenged, still not taking the hint, "I don't see anybody. Heh, the man you're supposedly attached to is useless to leave you like that."

Before you could stop him, Joe stood up from his seat. The move was so sudden that you failed to maintain your own grip on his hand. "Get away from her!" he snarled, his fists clenching as his glare bore down on the other man.

The drunkard also rose to his feet, but was not quite as stable as your man. His legs were wobbly, and he had to lean on the table for support. "Who are you ta talk ta me like that?" he slurred. "You-"

Before he could continue, he received a punch square in the nose. "Ah!" he groaned, one hand holding his nose as he stumbled backward and fell onto his back. Joe had his fist raised, ready to punch him again.

"Sweetheart! Sweetheart!" you called out urgently, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. That calmed him down very effectively, so much so that he lowered his fist and tangibly melted in your arms. He turned around and held a hand out to you. You took it, and he led you from the bar to a table. He sat down and pulled you into his lap, holding you tightly and tucking you under his chin possessively. You were so small against him, scrunched up almost into a foetal position as you practically stuck to him - not that you minded. You smiled up at his proud, cocky, and even domineering smirk as you clung onto his waist, him leering about at the rest of the men in the saloon, as if telling them that you were his and his alone and they had no chance with you. Of course, his gaze was particularly focused on the man who was still struggling to stand up.

-----

Joe and you sat at the table nearest to the stairs. You had chosen the seat because, for some reason, your boyfriend decided that it was a good night for heavy drinking. You could not really blame him though - for the past few weeks, you had not been able to find any hunt that was worth your time, and it was getting boring. Better to leave the small jobs to the rookies and let them make their bones, and step in only when necessary, ie, during bigger hunts. That was how Joe and you had started out, anyway.

Now you had with you an, admittedly adorable, inebriated Joe (you had taken the precaution of not drinking too much.) In all honesty, he had not drunk that much either - he had always been a lightweight; three glasses of whiskey and he could not walk properly.  He constantly flirted with you and touched you affectionately, saying the things which always made you blush - they still did, even in his drunken state.  This was a special phenomenon, since he was not typically one for public displays of affection, for he did not want to ruin his reputation of being demure and unfeeling - even though you had found that he was the exact opposite.  (A/N:  Special thanks to @KobayashiMarue for the trope, which she used in her Star Trek One-Shot entitled Lullaby, featuring our favourite grumpy southern doctor.  All you Trekkers, be sure to go check it out.  Also, she writes imagines for Tolkien, so if you're ever pining for Tolkien imagines, go and read her book ^_^)

But it was getting quite late into the night, and you knew that if Joe drank one more drop of even something as light as beer, he would be out for the count, on the table and you would have no way of bringing him up to the room. So you said to him, "Sweetheart, we have to go up now," and without giving him time to argue, stood up and pulled him to his feet. He murmured something in protest about the fun just getting started, but did not resist as you placed his arm around your shoulders and supported him as you walked him to the stairs. You, despite his constant verbal complaints, somehow managed to get him up them, and opened the door to your room. You immediately walked toward the bed and let him flop down onto it. He did not react at all; you heard him snoring softly as soon as his back hit the mattress. Since he lay spread-eagle in the exact centre of the bed, you had no space. Sighing in resignation, you pulled off his boots and left them below the foot of the bed, then took his hat and put it on the desk, next to yours. Knowing that he would have to use the washroom later, you turned on its light, stopping to freshen yourself up as well. You made your way back to the desk and sat down, holding your head up with one hand and trying not to fall asleep.

Just as you were about to drift off, a certain once-asleep being sprang up from his bed, shocking you and making your elbow slip. "AH!" you exclaimed, catching yourself.

But that was drowned out by the sound of liquid hitting the surface of another body of liquid. You sighed and made your way to the bed, kicking off your boots and lying down. You curled yourself up into a foetal position, pressing your front into the wall and throwing the blanket over yourself. Soon enough, you heard the toilet flushing, and the tap running. After the tap stopped, you saw the light go off and heard him padding over.  He climbed in behind you, and pressed himself into you, wrapping his arms and a leg around you before pulling the blanket further up to your faces.  "I'm sorry..."  he murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of your head.  Smiling with your eyes closed, caressed his hands with yours to let him know you were not upset with him.