#sam is a fan so he’d be on board

[urban-unease]

If the producers of IWTV are smart they’d hire St.Vincent to make the music for Lestat’s band.

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 15

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: Thank you as always for the lovely responses on the previous chapter! It was a long one, so thank you for sticking through with me. We're about to lighten up a little with some Christmas spirit! ❄️🎁

**Also, if you're a fan of The Boys (and Soldier Boy), there's an awesome book you can check out, called Supes Ain’t Always Heroes: Inside the Complex Characters and Twisted Psychology of The Boys.

If you want to learn more about the book (including cast interviews and a character study on Soldier Boy), I wrote a review about it here!

Otherwise, on to some more firefighter!Dean!

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, fluff, tinge of angst, hurt/comfort, lots of feels.

Part 15: “The Good Part”

“How many damn arrests does that make?” Daniel asked. He gripped his pool cue with both hands while he leaned on it.

His son stood at the other end of the pool table, lining up his shot. He paused to think.

“Six,” Nick replied. His cue released, and it knocked two of his balls into the pocket.

“Six,” Daniel repeated, while Nick came his way to find an angle for his next turn.

Daniel shook his head. His lips were angrily pursed. His eyes might’ve been on the pool game, but he was playing chess in his mind. He had underestimated John Winchester for far too long, it seemed.

The man was stubborn as all hell. And he’d been busy lately, getting “Azazel’s�� men busted for all manners of bullshit.

“Alastair’s mole says Winchester’s been calling in favors from his old friends in Narcotics, trying to bust our small fries,” Nick reported. “Getting them on everything from petty theft to drug possession, with intent to sell. But it’s nothing we can’t pull ‘em out of.”

“Time, money, added risk,” Daniel cited on his fingers all the reasons why John Winchester was a pain in his ass. “It’s only a matter of time before they get a warrant to rip apart Savage & Co., sweep the whole damn building. For forensic evidence, our files, all the jazz.”

Daniel’s fingers drummed thoughtfully against his chin. “A damn cop thinks he’s being cute.”

Nick missed his second turn. His hand fell against his thigh in annoyance, but he looked up.

“Dad, it’s your move.”

Daniel rubbed at his chin. His eyes were no longer seeing the board in front of him. Eventually, they slid up and met his son’s gaze.

“We’re going to start from the beginning,” he said.

Nick’s face gave away his confusion. “What? What do you mean?”

Daniel just smiled.

It was Christmas Day, and John was late. Sam and Dean were used to that drill, so they weren’t expecting him until dinnertime.

Meanwhile, it gave you a chance to find your footing as you got to know Eileen. She had helped you bake the pies that were now cooling on the counter (pumpkin and berry crumble), and a few of the side dishes for dinner. Sam had covered cleaning up the rest of the house, while Dean tackled his favorites: the ham and the mac and cheese.

Now the guys were in the living room watching football while you and Eileen were still in the kitchen, decorating some gingerbread cookies you two had made. She enjoyed it; doing holiday crafts with her students had been bringing out her artistic side, she told you. You were happy for the help and the conversation.

You later tried to cover up your snort of laughter as she finished telling you the story of how Dean once dared Sam to wear women’s underwear for a whole week.

If he managed it, Dean had promised to do all the household chores for three months. If Sam couldn’t make it the whole week, then he would face the consequences: Dean would tell their dad about the bet.

“How old were they?” you asked.

Eileen scoffed. “Sam was a senior in college.”

You burst out laughing again. “So too old, is the answer… Did he win?”

Eileen gave you a mischievous smile.

“He did,” Dean said, as he appeared in the kitchen doorway with a familiar smirk. “I’ve got photographic evidence. It was a cheetah print thong, in case you were wondering.”

Your eyes widened on a laugh. “Oh my God.”

Cheetahlicious, you couldn’t help joking in your mind. Even if you’d rather not think of Sam wearing a pair of Victoria Secret’s best.  

Eileen giggled with you. Dean’s amusement gave way to curiosity as he eyed the little gingerbread men you two were icing. You warned him off with your eyes, but it took Eileen batting his hand when he tried to steal a cookie.

“Hey! Wait ‘til after dinner,” she said.

Dean pouted. “Come on, don’t be stingy.”

Rolling her eyes, Eileen sighed.

“You’re like one of my kids,” she said, while signing with her hands. But she caved and handed him a cookie. “Here. To tide you over.”

Dean smiled and signed back to her in ASL, Thank you.

“That’s why you’re my favorite,” he said. He leaned down to kiss her cheek in a brotherly gesture.

He shot you a wink before taking a bite of his prize. You shook your head at him, even though you were smiling. He came around to your side of the table. His hand rested on your back and he bent down towards your ear.  

“I actually came over for you,” he said. “Got a minute?”

Your brows rose, but you turned to Eileen in askance. “I’ll be right back. Is that okay?”

She nodded and made an “OK” gesture. “Of course.”

You smiled and let Dean lead you out of your chair, and even out of the apartment. He made sure you both grabbed your coats by the front door.

“Where are we going?” you asked. While you put on your coat over your sweater and jeans, you didn’t notice him grabbing two sets of keys.

“Just downstairs. No big deal,” he said, hefting on his own leather jacket.

You eyed him with some suspicion, but you walked with him down to the elevators and let him keep you close to his side. He smelled like the cologne you bought him for Christmas, and he was already wearing the new watch as well.

You’d struggled to find him the right gift. Nothing felt quite enough after everything he’d done for you the last few months. He’d assured you that he was grateful for both gifts, and had even tried to say the watch looked too expensive. (You’d shut him up with a kiss.)

Now, you had to wonder what he was up to as he led you into the parking lot, but not toward Baby. Instead, you two stopped in front of a shiny silver Chevy parked in a guest spot.

“Dean, what’d you do?” you asked, both excited and worried. He shot you a grin and dangled the keys in front of you.

“You like her?” he asked. His eyes were dancing. “You could keep her, if you ask nicely.”

Your face slackened. You looked between him and the sleek looking car.

“What?” You covered your mouth with both hands. Even after a few moments, your brain was still having a hard time computing. “No…what? Oh my God!”

You grabbed onto his jacket, just in case your legs failed you. Dean laughed and gathered you up in his arms. By the time you peeled your eyes away from the silver beauty to look up at your boyfriend, there were tears already swimming in your eyes.

“Dean, this is really too much. Where’d you find—”

“Bobby had it sitting in his garage for years,” he explained. His hand came up to brush your cheek, and the tears there. “I cleaned her up, dropped in a new engine, safe-proofed with new tires, new airbags, the works. Got her purring like a kitten.”

Your eyes grew a little wider with every admission. Then you softened, gripping the edges of his jacket while you bit your lip to keep it from wobbling.

“How much did he sell it to you for?” you asked. Dean dropped his head back with a sigh.

“Don’t you wanna take a test ride before we start hagglin’?”

You lightly smacked his chest. “Hey. How much?”

He let out another heavy sigh, but you eventually got it out of him. While the price wasn’t as bad as you might’ve expected, you still shook your head.

“I still have a decent chunk of insurance money left. I’m giving you at least half,” you said.

Dean shook his head. “This is my gift to you.”

Your lips pursed, despite the smile that wanted to peek through.

“Nice try,” you said wryly. “You already got me perfume.”

“That was just the decoy.” He grinned, and held you a bit tighter against him. He nodded towards the car. “She’s the main event.”

You wanted to sigh, but this conversation wasn’t over. You were definitely not letting him buy you a whole new…old car. You turned to look at it again.

“What model is this?” you asked.

“2002 Camaro Z28,” Dean rattled off. It sounded impressive, but you didn’t know much about cars.

He let go of you so you could get a closer look. Your hand passed over the hood, but didn’t touch, as if you were afraid of staining the paint with your fingerprints. He had to admit, he’d waxed it up good and managed to get rid of a lot of superficial nicks and scratches.

What he said was true though; Bobby had given him a frankly ridiculous deal. Because when Dean had told him what you’d been through after the car accident, dealing with your grandfather’s passing, and now your ever-mounting expenses, Bobby hadn’t let him walk away from Singer Salvage with anything else but this car. He’d even helped Dean get the new parts he needed to fix it up.

“Is it automatic or manual?” you asked, trying to peer through the driver’s window. “I haven’t driven stick in a hell of a long time.”

Dean came up from behind you and his warm hand found your hip. You let him draw you back into his arms, leaning against his chest.

His lips were close to your ear when he said, “I think you’re damn good at driving stick.”

It took you a second, but the heavily laden innuendo in his deep voice was hard to miss. You uttered a laugh and swatted his arm.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said. You were still smiling when you turned and twined your arms around his neck. Then you leaned up for a kiss—one that kept getting deeper with the full force of your gratefulness, and your love for this man.

“It’s an automatic,” he answered, between kisses. You giggled against his lips.

You barely felt the chill on the air. Your heart was beating fast, even when you pulled away from him. Your eyes slowly opened and met his. He smiled down at you and curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. As usual, you had most of it clipped up.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was quiet, but steady.

You let out a shaky breath. Emotion was clogging your throat, making your tears burn anew.

“This is a bit more than a Christmas present,” you said. He gave a more self-deprecating smile.

“Well, it’s also kind of an apology,” he said. “For getting you mixed up in my ‘family business.’”

He still felt guilt beyond belief for putting you in danger. For your life being threatened. For being the reason you couldn’t go home.

You just shook your head. Your hand raised to press against his cheek. Your thumb drew tenderly along his chin.

“I thought you said you were part of my family now?” you said. “We’ll figure this out together, like everything else.”

Dean’s eventual smile lightened you, and his kiss warmed you down to your toes. 

“If you want, let’s go for a ride after dinner,” he said.

It was your turn to smirk. Your hands migrated under his jacket and teased at his belt.

“Well, I’m certainly down for a ride,” you said.

Dean laughed and squeezed your hips. “All right. I’m puttin’ you on my naughty list.”

When John finally arrived, the brothers welcomed him in first with big man hugs and good-natured ribbing for him being so damn late.

In Sam’s words, Upholding a Winchester family tradition.

John had taken that with a chuckle. “Smells damn good in here.”

“Yeah, food’s been done for an hour,” Dean prodded at him again. His grin betrayed his teasing, however. His welcoming hand stayed on his dad’s shoulder until they reached the living room, where Sam had set up a longer fold out table and chairs to function as the makeshift dining room, since the table near the kitchen only seated three.

There you were opening a bottle of Jack Daniels. You smiled up at John.

“Figured you were more of a whiskey than wine kind of guy,” you said. You were a bit nervous to see him again, no doubt with flour in your hair and frosting staining your hands. He clasped your shoulder with a hint of a smile.

“You’d be right. Good to see you, darlin’,” he said.

“You too,” you replied. Despite the fact that the first and last time you two had met, it had been in front of your house as the police rifled through your life, looking for more explosives. He graciously didn’t bring that up as he greeted Eileen next.

Once dinner was on the table, there was a lot of catching up between the brothers and their father while you and Eileen continued talking, even through dessert.

“This really is amazing,” she told you, pointing her fork at her slice of berry crumble. “I can see why you went to culinary school.”

You blushed as Sam, Dean, and even John echoed her praise. All three men had generous slices of both pies. 

“Well, thank you. I’m glad you guys enjoy it,” you said, and your smile was genuine.

You loved making good food, but you loved feeding people even more. Whether it was a simple hearty soup or a rich dessert, you liked putting smiles on their faces and giving them a good experience; one they could share with their family and friends. Even better if it was your family.

Or as Dean would say, Your people. 

To you, that was life.

“I’m tellin’ you, if you opened up a bakery you’d make a killing in this town,” Dean said. He nudged your hand with the one that held his fork; it held a precarious piece of pumpkin pie.

You shot him an amused look.

“Don’t you look at me sideways, I’m serious,” he said, laughing a little, but his gaze was steady.

Your cheeks warmed against your will. He believed in your dream, even when you couldn’t quite let yourself.

“Hey, if you ever want to look into applying for a loan, I could help,” Sam said, earning your attention. “I have a friend who works at a bank.”

Your brows raised. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we were pre-law together back in college, but he figured he was better with numbers.”

You smiled. “Well, it would make it easier knowing I was dealing with your friend.”

“Yeah, his name’s Brady. Let me know if you want me to call him,” he said.

You bit your lip, but you nodded. “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

Maybe they were right. Maybe you should start to believe in yourself, just a little bit more.

“This was all real delicious,” John said to you, when you came back from bringing the leftovers to the kitchen.

Sam and Dean were already arguing about who was doing the dishes and who was drying them. Meanwhile, Eileen was putting away the food (and probably rolling her eyes).

“Yeah, it was a team effort for sure,” you replied. “Dean’s actually a really good cook.”

John chuckled. “Yeah, well, he didn’t get that from me. I can barely boil a damn egg.”

You smiled to yourself; you could imagine Dean got it from his mother then.

Meanwhile, John was watching you stack the empty plates as he grew more contemplative. He’d always been proud of his sons. They were good men, with strong heads on their shoulders.

He often looked at Sam and saw that he seemed happy. Despite the demands of his job, he was learning to balance that with the life he led with Eileen. As a father, John looked forward to the day when they made a firm foundation, taking the next step towards building a life together.

But Dean had seemed to him, a little unstable. John was still proud of his eldest, but while he’d seen a glimpse of it that day at your house, he saw it even more today. Like his son finally had an anchor, tethering him to dry land.

Even so, he couldn’t help heaving a sigh. And he asked you something he knew he shouldn’t.

“Have you given any more thought to filing a report on Nick Savage?” he asked.

You paused in your plate and cup stacking. You looked up at him with a frown, but you thought about your words before you said something rude.

“Yes, I did,” you replied. “I decided my life and my peace were more important.”

He let out a short sigh. “I understand—”

“I’m sorry, John, but I don’t think you do,” you said. Your words were matter-of-fact, if a tad more sharp than you meant them to be. Your hands were starting to tremble.

You crossed your arms to try and steady yourself, but Dean ended up doing just that, by joining your side and resting a hand at the small of your back. He was frowning, glancing between you and his father.

“Tell me you’re not talking about what I think you are,” Dean said, addressing John in particular. “Not on damn Christmas.”

“Like you said, it’s her decision,” John replied. His gaze once again focused on you.

You let out a breath, mostly of exasperation.

“I’m going to bottom-line it for you. If I report that man, and you can’t guarantee me a job and safety until it’s all over, then I’m not poking the bear,” you said. “I plan to keep my head down until I can find another job. Until then, you can have at him all you want. Just leave me out of it.”

Part of you felt selfish. You knew what John was trying to accomplish, and you knew how personal this fight was for him, and for Sam and Dean for that matter. You just couldn’t shake your gut instincts here. You knew Nick far too well by now, and you didn’t want to underestimate him again.

“I agree,” said Dean. You gave him a grateful look.

John conceded with a nod, but all of you knew he wasn’t satisfied. It became a bitter ending to an otherwise brilliant day after he left for the night.

In your mind, it wasn’t quite over yet though. You had a plan up your sleeve for one Dean Winchester.

Sam and Eileen had their own time together while you and Dean went for a drive in your new car. You’d have to transfer your plate and registration and insurance, so it was technically an “illegal” drive, but it was already late and traffic was scarce.

By the time you pulled back into the parking lot, you were smiling from ear to ear, and Dean was giving you that smug grin that said, Aw yeah, I did good.

You couldn’t even fault him for it, because he did exactly that.

Even when you and Dean were getting ready for bed, it didn’t quite feel real. You were living with your boyfriend of just a few months, you now had a new car, and a crime lord had threatened your life.

You chose to focus on the new car. And on your boyfriend, who sat on the edge of his side of the bed, rubbing his right shoulder through his shirt. You knew it must still be sore, though he likely wouldn’t admit it.

Hence, you were about to enact Phase 1 of your plan…

You hadn’t undressed yet from your jeans and sweater, but you crawled across the bed to come up behind him and drop a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“How’s your slugging arm?” you asked.

Dean quirked a smile at you over his shoulder. “Just fine.”

“Dean,” you said. Your tone was gentle, but warning. No downplaying.

You pressed your lips against the side of his head and soothed your hand along his shoulder and down his arm. Still, he was resistant.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said.

You hummed. “Okay. I guess you don’t need a massage then.”

He paused. His head tilted just so, once again turning to you over his shoulder. You spied the edge of his piqued interest, his grin.

“Well, if you’re offering…”

You withdrew your hand from his arm, but you spoke close to his ear.

“Are you asking?”

He let out a small sigh, despite his lingering smile.

“All right. Will you please give me a lil’ massage?” he asked.

He couldn’t see your triumphant smile, but you happily kissed his cheek.

“I sure can,” you replied. You laid gentle hands on his shoulders, however briefly. “Stay right here. Don’t move, but take off your shirt.”

“All right, Miss Bossy,” he grumbled. You knew he was teasing by the amused look he threw your way.

“I thought you liked that,” you teased back.

You climbed off the bed before he could playfully grab you, and you giggled all the way to the bathroom. There you began Phase 2 of your plan. 

First, you collected a few different bottles from your designated drawer under the sink. Then, you made a quick wardrobe change, after popping back into the bedroom to grab something from your nightstand.

You also connected your phone to the speaker on his nightstand and put some music on a low volume. It was a playlist he’d made and shared with you a while ago, with songs he thought you’d like. The Eagles’ “Take It to the Limit” was definitely on the list.

By the time you returned to Dean, he was indeed shirtless, still in his sweatpants, and checking his watch.  

“I’m here, I’m here,” you said. You climbed across the bed with your small haul—a difficult feat with your hands full, but you managed.

Dean turned to look at the bottles of moisturizer you dropped next to him on the bed. He rose a brow.

“Twilight Woods. Japanese Cherry Blossom. Appletini. Are these my only options?” he asked. His face was half bemused, half reluctant.

You almost burst out laughing. “Which one strikes your fancy?”

He scratched the back of his head. You opened the second bottle first (your personal favorite), so he could smell.

“Not bad actually,” he muttered. You bit your lip so you wouldn’t giggle, but you managed to open the other two for him to get a whiff.

“Eh, the first one I guess,” he said.

Japanese Cherry Blossom. AKA: a classic from Bath & Body Works.

You finally had to laugh. “Just kidding. I’ve got this.”

You held up a jar you’d been hiding behind him. Its logo said: Massage Oil.

“I just wanted to see which girly moisturizer you secretly wanna slather all over yourself,” you said.

Dean shot you a wry look, but only then did he see what you were wearing.

“Oh, hold up,” he uttered.

Your hair was let loose, how you knew he liked, and you’d teased it out a little. You’d had to give away the red lingerie you’d bought, to rid both of you of its lingering memories of your work Christmas party. Instead, you’d found something in a vibrant emerald green: satin and lace.

Dean’s hand reached for your waist, probably to bring you closer. But you playfully slapped his hand.

“Eh-eh! Not yet,” you said to his surprised face. You smiled. “I have a plan for you tonight.”

Slowly, he smirked. His eyes still dipped to take in the rest of you, from your pretty face, to exposed skin and cleavage, to shiny satin that clung to your curves and draped down to mid-thigh. 

“I can see,” he said. His voice was a notch deeper. “Merry Christmas to me.”

Despite your blush and growing smile, you turned him back around by his shoulders.

“Just relax.”

You let your hands drift up the back of his neck to slide your fingers through his hair. There you began with a slow, gentle massage of his head. You felt him take a deep breath.

You couldn’t see it, but Dean’s eyes had closed at your ministrations. He secretly really liked the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. It made his shoulders loosen; with tension he didn’t know he had releasing from the neck down.

Aside from the rigors of his job, he also had to work out and condition his body to keep up his stamina. He probably didn’t spend as much time as he should on this aspect of things, making sure he wasn’t overtaxing himself.

He appreciated what you were doing though. He knew you cared about him, that you loved him. But he liked that you were also a caring person, who tried to take care of him. Dean hadn’t really had that…from anyone before. Sometimes, it was hard for him to let you.

…Damn, we really got too much in common, he realized.

When you migrated back down his neck, your hands left for a moment to gather up some oil. It was warm against his skin when you started between his shoulders, digging with the heel of your hands.

He groaned deep, surprising even himself.

Behind him, your brows were furrowed. “You’re really knotted up here. When was the last time you had a massage?”

Dean chuckled. “Never.”

You frowned. “Hmm. Okay, we’re definitely doing this more often.”

“No complaints from me,” he said with a grin.

Of course, you gave special attention to his right shoulder. You were gentler there, asking what was tender and what felt good, or too much. By then you had an easier time getting the truth out of Dean. He let you know when the pressure was too much, and you even helped him stretch out that arm until the muscles and joints were warmed up and the pain was gone.

You encouraged him to lie on his stomach in the middle of the bed, so you could start on his back. Your hands glided down planes of muscle and smooth slopes while you straddled his thighs. The only sounds you heard from him were occasional moans and rumbling, pleased sounds. That was also what let you know that he hadn’t fallen asleep.

“Okay, turn over,” you said, smiling when he groaned in protest. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part.”

“What the hell’s the good part then?” he asked. His voice was muffled in the mattress, but when he turned around, flopping onto his back, his eyes once again took in the green satin and seemed to remember what your real intentions were.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. His grin was lazy, now that he was beyond relaxed, but his hands found purchase on your hips. You smiled down at him.

You let the remaining oil on your hands glide up his chest, until you lowered down for a kiss. It was unhurried and sweet.

“I love you, you know?” you said.

Dean swept his fingers through your hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear.

He smiled. “I’ve got some idea, yeah.”

You both laughed, soft and true. Your hand rested against his cheek as you pressed your lips to his, soft and slow at first, but soon gaining in both passion and urgency. You felt his grip on your hips tighten, grinding your center against his growing length.

He groaned. No goddamn panties on. Good.

You kissed your way from his lips to his neck. Your teeth grazed his ear while you rolled your hips into his. It was a tease for both of you, but not for long, as Dean grew impatient enough to slide his sweatpants down, followed by his hands slipping under the satin covering your thighs. They traveled further still, squeezing your breasts and rolling hardened nipples under the pads of his thumbs.

Your breath hitched, and your pleased hum was music to his ears. By now you were bracing yourself against the mattress, but you used his shoulders as leverage to raise yourself up.

You took his hands and encouraged them to bunch up the satin and pull it over your head. Dean sat up with you still in his lap, and once his strong arm wrapped around your waist, it was skin to flushed skin.

You held his face and brought him down to you for another fierce kiss. He held you tightly against him, hands splayed across your back and tangling in your hair. His arms were a cage you never wanted to escape.

But you did press away from him, just for a moment, so you could reach down between your bodies to take a firm hold of his cock. You guided it to your entrance. There was already a small flood between your legs, and your core ached for him.

There was almost no resistance when you slowly sunk your hips down and down, until he was buried deep inside you.

You both made sounds of pleasure, with labored breaths as Dean’s hand cradled your cheek. He laid open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, teeth grazing down your neck.

You clung to his shoulders and began to move, slow in the way you let almost the full length of his cock escape you, before you slid back down. Dean moaned into your skin, and you let out a shuddering sigh.

You pushed at Dean’s chest until he was lying back, and you continued rolling your hips against his. He helped you create a steady rhythm on top of him, but he was being treated to a feast of the eyes as well as the pleasure rocking through his body. He watched the way you swept your hair back. The way your eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration as you bit your lip.

But he couldn’t stay still for long; he knew he was close enough to practically taste his end, but you had some miles to go. He gripped your thigh with one hand while the other glided up between them, to further part your folds. His fingers found your clit, circling insistently like it was a button. It had your hips stuttering.

“Oh, God,” you uttered. “Dean—”

He managed to smirk through panting breaths. “Right there, right baby?”

You nodded, unable to speak. You continued to move as steadily as you could, but the feeling of him deep inside combined with his talented fingers playing you like a five-string guitar—it finally made you tighten on him, shuddering deep inside. Tingles broke across your skin, zipping up your spine as you gasped.

Dean helped you with the last few hard thrusts that brought him along with you, and you felt his warmth spilling inside you.

It was a heady feeling, and you needed a moment just to recover. Even though you were on birth control, every time he came inside you still felt like a dangerous, delicious game.

But after you slid off his lap and practically rolled into his side, him welcoming you with an arm wrapping around your waist, it did make you think, as you caught your breath.

It made you think about the first time you and Dean slept together. It had been the first and last time you’d asked him to wear a condom. The next morning, he’d made a remark that still hung in the back of your mind…

“You like kids, huh?”

The thought still rattled through your mind now, after you and Dean shared a quick shower, ridding you both of the oil clinging to your skin. The thought remained when you slid into bed, under fresh sheets and thick covers, and close to your man. He cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes at the feeling.

Contrary to what this night had been, the whole “moving in together” thing hadn’t been all that easy. You two had bickered about the way he often left drawers and cabinets open and dirty clothes on the floor.

He had made remarks about your hair products taking up too much space in his drawers. Not to mention how morning routines needed to adjust because Dean liked to shower in the morning, but you needed the mirror not fogged up in order to do your makeup.

Right now, however, you had peace. You felt safe here, and you weren’t alone in a huge house filled with far too many memories.

“Can I ask you something?” you said.

Dean’s lips lingered on your forehead. “Hmm?”

“I know this situation is sort of temporary, me living here,” you said. “So much has happened that we haven’t really talked about…what we both want, down the line.”

He pulled back enough from you to see your face. His face betrayed a thread of confusion.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean like…” you hesitated, but you realized you were probably going to have to be direct. “Are you a marriage and kids kind of guy? Is that even something you’ve thought about?”

Dean met your gaze. It took him a moment, but he let out a short sigh.

“You wanna know what made me want to start dating, for real?” he asked.

You blinked; you hadn’t expected that, but you nodded.

“I started thinking about what would happen if something happened to me on the job,” he said. You frowned, but before you could say anything, he raised a placating hand.

“I thought about what I’d leave behind,” said Dean. He quirked a wry smile. “It’s not much, besides my car.”

You frowned in earnest. Your hand flattened against his bare chest.

“That’s not true,” you said. “You have your brother, your father, and your friends. That’s plenty, Dean.”

He conceded that with a nod. “You’re right. But I just started thinking, maybe I want more. Like uh…like what my parents had, when they were happy. The house, each other, me and Sammy…a family.”

You couldn’t be certain in the near total darkness of the room, with only the moonlight filtering through the blinds and casting a glow behind him, but you thought you saw a shine in his eyes. Your hand crept up from beneath the covers to find his cheek. It was rough with stubble, yet you tenderly swept a thumb back and forth.

“I think that’s beautiful,” you replied.

Dean paused. He then huffed in amusement. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, hoping he could see it. 

“Then uh, is that something you’d be into?” he asked. You were amused by his tentative approach. 

“With you?” You pretended to think. Your fingers slipped into his hair. “Yeah, I think I’m into that.”

He chuckled. “Okay, then. Good to know.”

He grasped your wrist and turned his head to press a kiss into your palm.

And he spoke into the dark. “I love you too, you know.”

Your smile deepened as you rested your head against his arm. You whispered into the small space between your faces.

“Yeah, I’ve got some idea.”

AN: All righty, how'd you like that fluff overload?

...Ready for some more drama? 😏

Next Time:

But the more you thought about what you’d heard, and Nick’s ominous threat about a cop, you found yourself scrolling lower in your contacts. You called John Winchester.

It rang a few times, and all the while you made silent, fervent prayers. Pick up, damn it! You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Winchester,” he answered.

“John, it’s me,” you whispered. “Azazel’s here. Or, he’s not here, here, but I know who he is. Well, I mean kind of—”

“Okay, wait. Slow down,” he said. “What about Azazel? You know who he is?”

Keep Reading: PART 16

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[impala-dreamer]

Temptation & Consequences

A Short Story

~Jensen has been busy all weekend at the convention, leaving little time for fun with his girl. Luckily, Y/N knows how to get his attention... and more...~

Jensen Ackles x F!Reader

2,176 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Dom!Jensen, sub!Bratty!Reader, Hair Pulling, Spanking, Kinda rough(ish) sex, Delicious.

A/N: Another block off my @jacklesversebingo board. The prompt was "temptation". Also written for Kym who wanted some hair pulling. Hope you all enjoy!

JacklesBingo Masterlist

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

His phone buzzed.

He couldn’t hear it, but he felt it vibrating in the front left pocket of his tight jeans.

Ignoring the alert, Jensen stepped up to the mic stand and reached for it, tipping it up slightly so that it was aimed at his lips. He smiled and the crowd swooned. That was all it took- just a flash of a grin and a sweep of green eyes and the whole room fell to its knees. It was too much power, and inevitably fleeting, but he loved it just the same.

Another alert shook against his thigh and Jensen’s attention was pulled away from the purple-haired teen who was timidly inching closer to asking her actual question. He knew who was texting and it was all he could do not to sneak a peek at his screen.

“...And yeah, so I just wanted to say thank you. My mom and I really love Supernatural.”

Jensen smiled and nodded in thanks. “Your mom?”

The girl blushed. “Yeah. She made me watch.”

The cell buzzed again.

Jensen pursed his lips and narrowed his gaze at the girl. “Your mom,” he said again, making the front row snigger. He raised a brow and acted offended. “How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

He sighed heavily and rubbed a hand across his forehead. “I am so old…”

The crowd laughed and the girl hid her face.

“I’m sorry!”

Jensen shook his head. “Fourteen,” he echoed. “Sheesh. Who’s your favorite Winchester?”

The girl chewed her lip and bashfully leaned into the microphone.

“Well?” Jensen grew comically annoyed.

She cleared her throat. “Sam.”

With great flare, Jensen tossed his hands up into the air and spun away.

As the audience enjoyed the theatrics, Jensen’s pocket vibrated twice and he gave in, dragging it free from his jeans. While the room was distracted, he checked the messages and his pulse raced.

‘You look so fucking hot today, J.’

‘that shirt is killing me. The buttons… your huge arms…’

Jensen looked up at the crowd, his cheeks beginning to burn.

‘Need your big cock in my mouth’

‘Or right here…’

He scrolled down to the last message and was met with a close up of Y/N’s bare tits. Her nipples were hard, her skin creamy and begging to be touched.

With a thick swallow, Jensen closed the messages and stuffed the phone back into his pocket.

“This is why I don’t do panels alone!” he joked, swinging back toward the mic.

Fans came and went, questions flew around his head. There was nothing that he hadn’t been asked before and he was able to phone it in well, all the while thinking about his own phone. Two more texts came through but he refused to look at them, knowing Y/N was just upping the ante by teasing him some more.

“Who would win in a fight, Soldier Boy or Dean?”

Jensen laughed at the question as if he’d never heard it before. He had.

Another buzz.

He scratched a hand down his cheek and grabbed his phone, looking quickly before jamming it into his back pocket.

‘Hurry. Im starting without you’

A photo of her fingers against her thighs, tips poised and ready to dip into the sweet honey between.

He hissed a breath in and then let it out slowly, pretending to ponder the question. Finally:

“Well, obviously Soldier Boy is a supe, so he’s stronger…”

The crowd was divided, half cheering, half booing. Jensen held up his hands and called for patience.

“That being said,” he growled into the mic, “Dean is a genius and he’s always got a plan. I think he could kick a little ass before goin’ down, don’t you?”

Half a smile from his plump lips pulled the audience back together and everyone, no matter which character they favored, cheered and had Jensen’s back.

He always won them over.

The final message came through and he glanced at the screen while the audience carried on. A photo of her wet fingers pulling at her juicy bottom lip greeted him. Her pink tongue was curled and ready to steal a taste and Jensen could all but hear her intoxicating moan.

He clenched his jaw, shoved the phone back in his pocket and slyly adjusted himself.

She was gonna get it.

He’d make sure of it.

Y/N was backstage when he stepped through the curtain. Phone in hand, she leaned against the wall, eyes heavily painted and staring as if he were the only thing she could see. She was dressed up for the convention, skirt short and boots tall.

Green eyes traipsed down her body, making her pulse quicken.

Jensen shook a few hands, chatted quickly with his assigned volunteer handler, and fake-smiled at everyone around him. He kept one eye on Y/N, glaring his disapproval and offering a stern warning.

She could run if she wanted to, but he knew she wouldn’t.

Pleasantries done, he pushed through the crowd and slowly walked towards her. She stood up straight as if pulled by puppet strings and bit her lip, scared but aglow with anticipation.

He dipped his chin and pointed at her with a solo finger, shooting an invisible bullet at the center of her. She shivered and he motioned quickly to the hallway.

Defiant, she stood frozen on the spot until his thick fingers curled around her upper arm and yanked.

Not a word was spoken.

Not until the door slammed behind him.

“You think you’re funny?” he asked, flicking on the light and illuminating the empty conference room. A long, highly polished table sat in the middle of the room, its chairs stacked against the blank back wall.

Jensen took a step toward her and Y/N countered, falling back a pace.

“Well?”

She swallowed hard and smiled. “I mean… I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

He sucked his teeth. “And what, exactly, were you trying to do?”

A tingle of fear soaked arousal ran down her spine and Y/N took another step backwards.

“Um… Just trying to… uh…”

“Get yourself in trouble?” he grit.

She shook her head teasingly slowly. “No…”

He loomed above her. “Get me hard on stage in front of everyone?”

She bit back a grin. “No?”

He lunged forward, grabbing a giant fistful of hair and tugging her around. She spun on the spot, guided by his firm grip, and held in a gasping cry.

“You wanted my blood to boil, didn’t you, little girl?”

She held her breath.

He pulled harder and her back arched.

“You wanted to get me so worked up that I’d have no choice but to take out all my frustrations on you.”

Jensen turned his wrist and wound her hair around his hand. Her neck lengthened and curved backward. He dipped his lips to her ear, growling deeply.

“Was that your plan?” He tugged again and she moaned. “Answer me.”

His breath on her ear sparked goosebumps along her throat. His voice made her tremble. The surge of pain he invoked traveled down to her cunt and she could feel herself drip.

She exhaled her reply. “Yes…”

A tiny smirk played upon his plump lips.

“Did you think you’d get away with it?” he teased, pulling her back to fall against his chest. The hand in her hair dropped to her throat and his fingers curled around the front. He didn’t squeeze, just kept his hand in place, letting her know that he could.

She knew it all too well.

“Did you think I wouldn’t punish you for all that teasing?”

She swallowed against his palm. “I… I knew you would.”

Jensen snaked his left hand around her waist and up to grab her breast. She whimpered, let her head fall back against him.

“Wanted you to,” she confessed.

He pinched her nipple and snapped his teeth by her ear. She shivered.

“You’re a bad girl, Y/N…”

Helplessly, she nodded. “I am.”

His fingers tightened gently around her pulse points and Y/N’s eyes fluttered. Her heart raced, her head became fuzzy.

“Such a fucking brat,” he hissed. His left hand slid down her front, tucked into the warmth between her thighs. He hummed darkly when his fingers slipped against bare flesh. “No panties, either?” He tapped on her slit. “You are asking for it.”

He teased her pussy, dragging his middle finger back and forth over the sensitive outer lips but never pushing inside. Y/N rolled her hips back and felt his cock, hard and trapped in his jeans.

She chewed her lip and wiggled her ass against him. “You gonna give it to me or do I have to go find someone else to help out?”

His voice deepened. His fingers squeezed a bit more. “Excuse me?”

Y/N laughed teasingly. “I don’t know, Rob’s looking pretty hot today… got that sexy beard going-”

With a shove from behind, the table came up to greet her and Y/N found herself face down on the polished top.

“You think so?” Jensen yanked her skirt up, exposing her ass and wet cunt.

“I always think Rob is hot,” she answered, pressing her luck.

Jensen opened his belt, ripped his zipper down.

“Especially with that stupid little hat…”

He’d had enough.

He clenched his teeth, kicked her feet apart, and grabbed her hips.

“Shut up,” he warned.

Y/N smiled into the cold wood. “The things I would let him do to me…”

“I said, shut up.”

Y/N opened her mouth to expand upon her lustful feelings for his friend, but Jensen forced a choked cry out of her instead.

In one unceremonious thrust, he was buried deep in her slick hole. Her pussy gripped him tight and Jensen inhaled hard and loud, his eyes snapping shut as lust and relief washed over him.

“Fuck…”

Y/N’s eyes rolled as he crushed into her from behind; the warm, solid mass of him pinning her to the table. She managed to push her palms up against her chest and lift her head, but his thrusts were quick and powerful, each forcing her back down onto the table.

“God, Jay-” Her voice crackled. Her breath stuttered.

His nails dug into her sides and Y/N moaned.

“Needed this so fucking bad,” she whimpered.

Jensen clawed at her ass and then slapped her left cheek hard.

She gasped but couldn’t move away. Moaned but couldn’t reach for more. She was desperately captive.

Another crack and she melted. Gentle pain spread like warm honey through her system and she relaxed, falling into his rapid rhythm.

His hips jerked faster, cock jabbed in deeper. She clenched around him, her body pulsing with edging pleasure.

“Please-”

Jensen growled wordlessly, lost in the moment. He bent his knees, dipped down and slowly stroked upwards.

Y/N hissed and clawed helplessly at the table. With nothing to hold onto, nothing to scratch, her nails slid across the smooth top and she shuddered. “Fuck! Please!”

Once more, he grabbed her hair; his palm pushing hard at the base of her skull. He twisted his wrist, yanking up a ponytail into his fist.

“Yeah? You want all this?”

He pulled and her back arched, lifting her chest from the table.

Her voice was shaking. “Y-yes!”

The web of pain mixed with his swift thrusts and Y/N came, her body squeezing him hard. Jensen let out a tight-lipped cry and slammed into her again and again, quickly following along.

“Fucking, fuck!”

When his hand relaxed, Y/N fell back down to the table and struggled to slow her breath. She could feel him stuffed inside, hesitant to back away.

“So good, baby,” she cooed.

Gently, he let himself fall over her and lean close to kiss her cheek. “Was, wasn’t it?” He grinned, toothy and punch drunk.

“Remind me to text you more,” she laughed as he moved away, releasing her from captivity.

He shook his head, tucked himself away. “Don’t even think about it.”

Green eyes were stern, but she knew he’d enjoyed himself too.

Spinning around, Y/N pressed up on her tiptoes and kissed his lips. She licked into his mouth while sneaking a hand around to dig in his back pocket. Quickly, she withdrew his ever-present bandana. His cum was beginning to drip down her thigh and she needed to wipe it away before heading back out into the real world.

She took a step back with the kerchief and Jensen grabbed her wrist.

“I don’t think so,” he grunted, ripping the bandana from her hand.

Y/N startled and gaped up at him. “But- I gotta clean up-”

His teeth dug into his lip. He shook his head. “No. Leave it.”

Turning away from her, he shoved the handkerchief back into his pocket and headed to the door.

She gasped as his hand hit the knob. “Jensen! Someone might notice!”

Looking back over his shoulder, he cocked an eyebrow and shrugged. “Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it? Maybe next time, you’ll consider the consequences.”

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[abarbaricyalp]

Hi!

A no pressure ask game to make the tags less depressing lol.

Rules: Share a snippet from whatever you’re currently working on, and then tag 5 people.

Hey Jem! What a great idea! I'm working on four projects so different right now, it's almost laughable. But this is from my favorite one No pressure tagging you back! and @thatmexisaurusrex @firstelevens @funsized-loser @downwarddnaspiral @siancore

The Wilsons didn’t have animals, no matter how much Sam and Sarah begged for a horse, or at least a dog. Still, there was plenty of noise across the property each night, between the birds and the frogs and the crickets and the deer and coyotes that went loping by all the time. Sam had fallen asleep to the cacophony of animal sounds every night of his life. So he wasn’t sure why some rustling somewhere in the sideyard woke him up that night. Or why he got out of bed quietly, careful not to step on the creaky boards that would echo in his parents’ room down below, and crept over to the window to investigate.

The moon was full that night–which is where that part of his Titi’s story had come from, he was sure–so the sideyard was fully illuminated. There was the trampoline they’d gotten for Christmas two years ago and the hole to the center of the earth they were digging. All of the tonka trucks abandoned in it reflected the moonlight. The tattered patio umbrella, which was just staked into the grass, swayed gently in the wind.

And before all of that, a pumpkin with a body staggered around.

Sam gasped and tumbled away from the window, hitting every creaky board on the way back to his bed. He pulled his blanket over his head, but couldn’t quite bring himself to cover his eyes. His room was on the second floor, so he couldn’t see the yard from the far other side of the room, but what if something happened and his eyes were covered? That wouldn’t be good.

He strained to listen for any noise from the creature outside, and also his parents downstairs. He’d expected a shouted, “Go back to sleep!” but hadn’t gotten even that.

After a few seconds, he got out of bed again, dragging his quilt with him, and returned to the window. Outside, the pumpkin creature seemed to have found its footing and was looking around. It stopped to pick up one of the toy trucks–the one that had a real conveyor belt for moving buckets along–and Sam, without thinking, smacked his hand against the pane of his window to stop it.

The creature looked up at the window and Sam went sprawling away again.

This time, he recovered much faster. He didn’t believe in ghost stories. But he very badly wanted to be part of an adventure story. So he slunk downstairs. The process was arduously slow. He kept stopping to make sure his parents weren’t awake. And the clicking noise in the living room almost sent him upstairs again before he realized someone had just left the ceiling fan on. The front door was too noisy to open, but the backdoor would make him cross his parents’ bedroom. Their door was usually pulled to, but it would be just his luck that his daddy was up getting some water.

Sam hesitated at the bottom of the stairs before he made a dash for the backdoor. From there, it was smooth sailing. He kept to the side of the house until he could round the corner into the sideyard. The pumpkin creature was still staring at his window. It was a tall, thin thing with gangly proportions that were only a little more unsettling than most of Sam’s classmates.

Sam inched towards it. He was holding his breath. One arm was tense, ready to smack a hand over his eye, as if that would stop a monster from attacking him. The quilt was wrapped tightly around him still, picking up leaves and sticks and dirt.

October night breezes ruffled the leaves and Sam’s arm lifted with it. His fingers touched the dark blue material of the creature’s sleeve from an arm’s length away.

The creature turned to look at him with hollow, carved out eyes and that unmoving slanted mouth. And down the side of its head, those dark spots that Sam had intentionally chosen.

Sam yelped.

The creature yelped.

They both went sprawling onto their butts in the grass.

The creature scrambled back on its hands and heels.

Sam shot to his feet and immediately tripped over the quilt and fell again.

“Don’t!” the pumpkin said and threw its thin arms over its carved face.

Don’t? Sam wondered. Don’t what? He was supposed to be saying that. He hiked the blanket up properly before he got to his feet again and then bounced back several times to put some distance between them. Their feet had almost been touching.

“What are you?” Sam demanded, sounding braver than he felt. He clutched at his blanket tightly to keep his hands from shaking.

“I’m– I’m–” The creature got to its feet and then reached for its pumpkin head. “I’m not–” it started to say. Then it lifted the pumpkin up and put it on the ground by its feet. 

Sam squawked again and covered his eyes with the blanket.

When he peeked out, there was a boy in front of him. Still tall and thin and gangly, still wearing a costume like an old picture, but a boy with dark hair, bright moonlit eyes, and a line of large freckles down the side of his face, right where the pumpkin’s spots had been.

“I’m not scary,” he said lamely. “You made me. You brought me to life.”

Sam uncovered his eyes. Oh, he was going to be in so much trouble. “You need to go away again! I didn’t think it was real!”

The boy’s mouth–slanted like Sam had carved it–screwed even more to the side in a frown. “I can’t go away. I’m awake until All Hallows Eve.”

[late-to-the-party-81]

Apparently words can hurt me

AN: I’m back again, filling multiple challenge squares in one fic, and indulging my love of pre-serum Stucky. This fic is for the following fills;

Into the Juniverse - Squares C1,3 and 4 - Modern, Bookstore, Medical - @buckybarnesevents 

The Slumber party, May challenge - “Who did this to you?” @the-slumberparty

BBB Y1 - Sticks and stones @buckybarnesbingo 

Beta’d by @sparkagrace 

Mood board by me, dividers by @firefly-graphics 

Master list

Relationship: ER Doctor Steve Rogers x Bookstore Owner Bucky Barnes

Word count: 2.8k

CW: Fluff, minor angst, suggested Smut, implied bottom Bucky, pre-serum Stucky, alcohol consumption, fast burn, strangers to lovers to friends, meet cute/meet ugly, Special guest star Alpine, Nat and Sam are a good bros (even if they give their friends shit), alternating pov, Human disaster Bucky Barnes, implied age gap (Bucky late 20’s, Steve, mid 30’s)

“So, Steve - how’s your first day going?”

Steve turned, hanging his stethoscope around his neck, and smiled up at his friend and colleague, Sam. He clasped hands with the man he’d known since medical school and allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Not that he really could have stopped it - Sam was over half a foot taller than him, and was obviously a big fan of both arms day and legs day. The man’s muscles had muscles, and Steve, well, didn’t really. He’d tried building muscle in the past but his metabolism was so ridiculously fast that he’d almost bankrupted himself trying to up his protein intake.

“It’s going great, man. It’s good to be back on the East Coast, even if it does seem to be a lot wetter.”

“I think trading sunshine for working with a friend is still a definite upside.” Sam’s sunny mood never failed to make Steve smile. “You were wasted in L.A.”

Steve nodded, thinking back to the circumstances that had led to him packing up and moving to the other side of the country after he’d qualified, and then the circumstances that had led to him returning and taking up residence at King's County. It had been a while since he’d worked in an ER, but it was like falling off a bike. Or rather patching up someone who’d fallen off a bike.

“Well, I’d best get back to it - I’ve got a suspected fracture of the tibia in bay three.”

“Drinks - tonight - seven - Gallis. Don’t be late, Rogers.” Steve chuckled as Sam shot him finger guns, before heading back down the corridor to Obstetrics.

He’d missed Sam. He’d missed New York. Most of all, he’d missed himself - missed what he’d hidden of himself while he’d been away. He was back now, though and ready to get on with the rest of his life. He strode towards Bay Three and picked up the chart attached to the bed. He sat down next to the forlorn looking teenager who was probably the same height as him.

“Now, Mr Parker. How did you manage this?

“Nat! Naaaaaat!” Bucky called out to his best friend-slash-co-owner, desperately trying to keep the large stack of books balanced in his arms. Something bumped his ankles and he peered down. “No. Not you, Alpine. You don’t have opposable thumbs.” The white ball of fluff just continued to purr and rub against her human’s legs. Bucky tried to nudge his baby away, but the change in balance caused the top book to slide, bumping against Bucky’s cheekbone.

“Nat! Help!”

“What’s up, Buckminsterfullerene?”

Nat appeared as if by magic, riding the roll-along ladder like Belle from Beauty and the Beast. If Bucky could have pinched the bridge of his nose he would have. Instead he just settled for a sigh.

“You know completely what’s up, and you’re just waiting for the right moment to say ‘I told you so’. I’ve overestimated how many books I can put away at once, again. Now will you please help me?”

She jumped down, her red hair swinging around her shoulders.

“What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll take you for drinks at Gallis once we’ve closed up? We can people-watch, maybe find a couple of guys to flirt with and buy us more drinks?”

Nat stepped forward and took a handful of books off the top of the stack, holding them in one arm and started to put them away. She pursed her lips as if she was trying to decide, but Bucky knew she wouldn’t be able to resist that offer - it was their favourite Friday evening activity, which said a lot about their respective love lives.

“You’re on, Barnes, but tell me you got something cute upstairs in your wardrobe that I can borrow.”

“Nat, you know full well that half your wardrobe is upstairs, pushing mine out. You’re here that often.”

“Hey! I resemble that remark. And anyway, it gives you more options.”

Bucky huffed, and blew a lock out of his brown hair out of his eyes, before realising that the stack of books left in his arms was now actually manageable and could be put away.

“I might be slim, but I’m not that slim.”

“Betcha $10 that I can make an outfit out of my stuff for you to wear this evening.”

Nat smiled at him, eyes twinkling and he grinned back.

“You’re on, Romanoff!”

“So you’re telling me that your patient really thought he could scale down from a second storey window?” Sam’s expression was a mixture of amusement and disbelief. Steve grabbed an olive from the bowl in front of them, threw it up and caught it in his mouth.

“Yup. Kid thought that if he covered his hands and feet in some kind of sticky resin he could go up and down the wall like a spider. No lie. Not even drunk. Just a clever kid with too much time on his hands and not enough common sense.”

Sam laughed, and wiped a tear of mirth from his eye.

“God, man. I’m glad I’ve left general medicine behind.”

“Yeah, now you just have to deal with a load of…”

“Don’t say it! Don’t you dare say it. That joke gets old, real fast. So, other than an idiotic teenager, you enjoying being back? Ready to put yourself out there?”

Steve took a swig from his beer, more to give him a second’s space than the need to actually slake his thirst. Sam looked at him expectantly, and Steve knew he wasn’t going to get out of answering.

“Yes to the first and maybe to the second.”

Sam raised his eyebrow.

“Maybe? Come-on, dude. It’s been like, what, four… five months since you broke up. I’m not saying go out and propose to the first person you meet, but there’s no harm in a little flirting, a little dancing. And I can tell you, there’s a young man over there who hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you.”

Steve knew who he meant - it had been difficult not to notice the certified twink propped up against the bar drinking cocktails with his red-headed friend. The young man looked like he’d been poured into those black skin-tight jeans, and the rather feminine, purple button-up, left open over an equally feminine black crop top, accentuated his pale skin and red, pouty lips. Steve would be a liar if he said he wasn’t interested - part of him definitely was, but the more cautious part of him, the part that was still nursing his battered and bruised heart, wasn’t sure.

“Go on, Steve. Buy him a drink. Or at least offer.”

Sam was nothing if not persistent. Steve downed the rest of his bottle, trying for a bit of dutch courage. Apparently, he wasn’t getting out of this either.

“This hasn’t got anything to do with the fact that you want to speak to his friend, does it?”

Sam smiled around his bottle neck before placing it, now empty, back on the table.

“I plead the fifth on that.” Steve smiled back, but rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Come on, before I chicken out. But one drink. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh? I bet you’ll want to stay for more.”

Damn-it!

Steve hated it when Sam was right. He’d almost forgotten how insufferably smug his friend could get, but he had no doubt he would be reminded in the morning. Or rather later in the morning, because it was 4.30am and Steve was quietly trying to find his pants.  

He’d never been a one-night stand kinda guy before, and truly, he hadn’t intended to go home with this man - Bucky - but with each swig of beer, each whispered flirtation, each dance, it had seemed like a better and better idea. They’d gone back to Bucky’s - a small apartment above a bookstore - and, well, things had escalated quickly.

Now, Steve wasn’t going to say he regretted it, because whoo-ee, was Bucky something - very hot, very talented - but now, as the alcohol and post-orgasmic haze was wearing off, he was feeling… awkward?

Bucky was lying on his front on his bed, head turned to the side and lightly snoring. A shaft of light from the street outside shone through the somewhat ratty curtains, highlighting Bucky’s glorious cheekbones and kissable lips. Steve felt a pull inside him, a pull to just get back into the warm bed, wrap his arms around Bucky and go back to sleep but he shouldn’t. He couldn’t. It was too soon got anything like that.

Locating his slacks, he tugged them on. Groping around further he found his shirt, one sock and both shoes. Gathering them to himself, Steve crept towards the bedroom door, opened it a slither, and snuck out.

As he took a step forward something soft and warm brushed against his foot. Somehow he managed to stifle his scream.

“Mmmerp?”

A pair of large eyes looked up at him in the darkness. Juggling his armful of clothes, Steve pulled out his phone, and turned on the torch.

“Oh, thank fuck. You’re just a cat.”

The animal tilted its white fuzzy face.

“Mmmerp?”

Steve shuffled over to the sofa, resting his phone on the coffee table as he stuffed his arms into his shirt.

“Sorry, little one. I have no idea where your owner keeps your kibble. You’ll have to manage.”

He pulled on his lone sock and slipped on his shoes, making a face at how his bare foot stuck to the leather inner. Laces tightened, he picked up his phone and quietly made his way over to the front door.

“Do me a favour, kitty? Give Bucky a kiss for me, yeah?”

“Mmmerp!”

Carefully shutting the door behind him, and trying not to think too hard about the heaviness in his heart, Steve pulled up his ride share app, and booked himself a cab home.

“So, he just bailed on you?”

Bucky stared down at the account book open in front of him, hoping that the numbers would just start to make sense on their own. And hoping that Nat would just drop it.

“Uh-huh. Gone when I woke up. Left a sock behind though.”

“A veritable Cinderella, then.”

“Ha-ha, Nat. Very funny. His name was Steve.”

Bucky shut the ledger with a snap, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t even know why I’m so cross. It’s not like I haven’t done the moonlight flit before.”

Nat leant against the counter, checking her pristine make-up in her compact mirror.

“It hurts, cos you were on the receiving end this time. My advice? Let it go. You got a good lay out of it, yes?”

“Yes…” It might have been begrudgingly, but he had to agree - the sex had been spectacular. Maybe that’s why he was so sour? Upset that he didn’t get to get up close and friendly to Steve’s dick again? For a short guy, he’d definitely been packing… Oh, well.

“Well, ride the high of a good fuck and move on.”

“Okay, okay. What about you and his friend?”

Nat turned her head and gave a coy smile.

“Sam? A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“Yeah, but you ain’t no lady. Ow! Don’t hit me!” 

Bucky laughed as he raised his arms to fend off Nat’s friendly blows.

“Uncle! Uncle! I give in, I’m sorry.”

“Hhmmff. I suggest you get on with some work. Maybe you should do the book sorting and I’ll do the accounts?”

“Sounds like a plan. And Nat?”

“What?”

“Love you!”

“Love you, too.”

Why had he drunk so much last night?

The lights in the ER were far too bright, and he was now 10 hours into an 8 hour shift. And why on earth did people insist on inserting things that shouldn’t be inserted into places that shouldn’t have things inserted?

“Dr Rogers? Are you able to check over the patient in Bay 5?”

“Hmmm?” Steve turned to see the face of Wanda, the triage nurse looking at him expectantly. He bit back a moan as he wiped his hand over his face. “I mean, sure. What’s the story?”

“He says he had an accident at work, but something heavy has impacted his face. His left orbit is bruised and there’s a large edema, which is interfering with his vision.”

Wanda was chewing her lip and Steve could tell she wasn’t sure if the guy’s story was true.

“Okay - I’ll take a look. You’ve got his chart?”

“Right here. And thank you, Steve.”

“No problem.”

Steve pushed up from the desk where he’d managed to find all of two minutes' peace and skimmed through the chart for his new patient as he made his way over to the bay.

“Okay… James, is it?” As he pulled open the curtain and looked up, he froze. “Bucky?”

“Steve?” 

Wanda hadn’t been kidding - Bucky was pretty banged up, but he was still as beautiful as Steve remembered.

The clipboard clattered to the floor and suddenly Steve found himself right in front of Bucky, gently cradling his bruised face in his hands.

“Who did this to you?”

For a heartbeat, Bucky just stared at him and then…

“What? What do you mean?”

“Was it a jealous boyfriend? If so, I’m so sorry. But also, give me his name. I’ll make sure he never sees the light of day again.”

Bucky’s eyes - well, one of them - went wide with understanding before he hissed and winced. Steve picked up the ice pack that had been discarded on the side table and pressed it to the purpling side of Bucky’s face.

“Steve, slow down. It wasn’t somebody else. There’s no boyfriend. No any-one. I had an accident, that’s all.”

“But what? How?”

Bucky chuckled, then winced again.

“Nat’s not going to let me live it down. I do it all the time, and finally, it backfired. I was putting the books away, you know, in my shop.” 

No, Steve didn’t know. Hadn’t realised that the shop below the apartment had been Bucky’s shop. To be fair, he was a little distracted at the time. However, he nodded anyway, aware that he was probably gaping like a fish.

“Well, I have a tendency to overestimate how many books I can carry at once, and then I overbalanced, and crrsshhh,” he gestured wildly. “A dozen hardbacks were bouncing off my face. And I thought I was safe with words. Isn’t it supposed to be sticks and stones that break my bones?”

Another heartbeat of silence and then…

“Oh my God, Bucky. You didn’t just say that?” Steve slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the chuckle that threatened to burst out. “Come on. Let me have a look. We might have to send you to X-ray though.”

Bucky couldn’t believe it. Steve - Sexy Steve from last night - was a doctor. He was certain it was only the pain in his face that stopped his dick from standing straight to attention when Steve had walked in, all professional in his white coat with a stethoscope around his neck.

He also couldn’t believe he’d made that cheesy joke, and that Steve had been all worried about him. 

While Steve did his thing, gently probing and taking notes, and asking him about his pain levels, Bucky ruminated on Steve’s reaction.

“Steve…”

“Mmmhhmmm?” Steve was still looking down at the papers, pen in between his lips, and God, if he hadn’t looked sexier.

“Were you really worried that someone had assaulted me?”

“What? Umm… well…yes. I was worried it was my fault too. Look, Bucky, it was really shitty of me to leave like I did this morning. I’m not... I mean I don’t…” His cheeks turned pink with embarrassment and Bucky took pity on him, leaning over and pressing his finger to Steve’s lips.

“Hey. It’s okay. I don’t think either of us was communicating properly last night - well, communicating in a non sex-specific manner - I think we got that down, don’tcha think?”

Steve gulped.

“Umm, well…”

“Let’s start again, okay? I’m James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky to my friends. I own and run a bookstore with my best friend Natasha, and I’m rubbish at relationships.”

He stuck out his hand towards Steve, who looked at it, before reaching out with his own.

“I’m Steve Rogers, ER doctor, here at King’s County. I’ve just returned from several years in LA, and having my heart broken in the process. I’m looking to take things slow.”

“I can do slow. Say, when we both get out of here, if anywhere’s still open, would you like to go and get a coffee?”

“I think I’d like that a lot, Bucky.”

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel

[ambrosearietes]

We (and by that I mean myself) demand more headcanons cuz they go hard asf😈

i have so many i’m gonna break these up by character. i will only do like the major ones. these are not all my headcanons just my big ones.

ADAM

despite living in slavic countries for most of his life, adam speaks english with a british accent because he learned it from anthony. he can also do a perfect american accent because he played WAAAAAAAYYYYYY too much fallout

adam is autistic (this one actually is canon, i mean come On dude) but also has ADHD and C-PTSD

scrawny because he was malnourished during his time as d-class. very insecure about it.

he and sylvester sloan know each other through anthony. i mentioned that sloan babysat adam occasionally, i was completely serious. he let adam watch star wars and adam literally wanted to BE luke skywalker.

yeah luke was his gender awakening

uses she/her to refer to his younger self from before anthony saved him as a coping mechanism— in reality he’s trying to deny that it even happened to him in the first place.

smokes weed when the team is off. calvin does not approve.

marries harvey in every stardew valley playthrough.

romances halsin in baldur’s gate 3.

cracked at fromsoft games.

CALVIN

bisexual, he just doesn’t realize it.

calvin is a gamer. he had adam build him a setup. they play together. adam beats his fucking ass in everything and makes fun of him for it.

really, really bad habit of bottling his emotions (which is why olivia keeps dumping him)

was ~19 when he got arrested for the stuff hyun-ki mentioned. vehicular manslaughter while driving under the influence is considered a felony charge.

grew up in the midwest. talks like a midwestern dad.

his aunt owns a horse ranch. calvin REALLY likes horses as a result.

he once promised adam to take him to meet his horse and teach him to ride after everything. poor guys :(

he and aaron would have had a father-son relationship.

he was a very “difficult” child due to him not being believed about his mother’s death. he had no idea how to cope with it. often got into fights, which is why his aunt ended up sending him to boarding school. she got a lot of calls even when he was there because calvin just. got into a fuckton of fights.

he didn’t go to therapy until the insurgency MADE HIM go to therapy.

legally can’t drive. doesn’t give a fuck.

he would occasionally let adam just lay on top of him like a cat. he thought it was platonic. like just guys being dudes.

would be a good father.

if he saw his dad again he’d shoot the guy without any hesitation.

blames the foundation’s negligence for his mom’s death.

likes planes a lot.

OLIVIA

sees adam as her little brother. they’re extremely close by O5-3’s chapter. she’s rather protective and very quick to defend him.

adam taught her to play dungeons and dragons and gives her book recommendations. she plays a halfling life-domain cleric/college of swords bard (multiclassing)

loves mystery novels.

adam introduced her to stardew valley. she usually marries leah.

bisexual. does not know this.

easily frustrated with calvin because calvin is terrible at communicating his feelings. calvin is trying to work on this. it’s going terribly. despite this, calvin is very affectionate with her and she does how open he is with that.

very relationship-centric person. this is mostly because she didn’t get much characterization in twie.

keeps a sketchbook. mostly doodles flowers.

her and sophia would have gotten along amazingly.

likes to dabble in poetry.

would romance wyll in bg3

huge fan of law and order. adam questions her taste in television shows.

if she had procreate she’d be fucking unstoppable.

i don’t have much on her bc characterization is so lacking :((

would have gladly taken sam (O5-11) with her back to the insurgency. deeply regrets that she didn’t. she thinks about sam a LOT, it genuinely haunts her. like she will try to sleep and she’ll just hear that gunshot and want to throw up.

VINCENT ARIANS / ANTHONY WRIGHT

i don’t remember if i mentioned this in the last post but vincent is a cat person. had a cat named mira. she was a calico.

insomniac.

in his ‘ideal world’ he would have lived with aaron and been able to raise adam.

very, very envious of people with ‘normal lives’.

we don’t know much about what vincent did in the foundation— the dialogue from O5-13 at the end of the children matches up with what he tells aaron in the apartment scene so i assume vincent was felix’s predecessor and felix held another number. as for what he did, we do know he was, like, an ACTUAL engineer who designed bombs at some point (stated in O5-5’s chapter); he could have been in charge of security.

it’s implied he had a second-in-command type position under aaron and likely was on the first delta command before his first ‘disappearance’, unless he wrote the summa modus operandi then just vanished off the face of the fucking earth for a while.

records of vincent are next to impossible to find within the insurgency as he worked so closely with the engineer and they don’t even know who the engineer was.

aaron thought vincent was dead until he received reports of anthony wright working with calvin.

anthony and sloan were good friends and out of all members of delta command during the way it ends, he respected sloan the most. anthony would have considered an actual relationship with him if he wasn’t like “no, i’m probably gonna disappear again or just straight up die soon anyway.” anthony was right, he did in fact die.

sloan knew who vincent arians was, he just had no idea that anthony and vincent were the same person.

genuinely, anthony wanted to die.

adam gave him a reason to live outside of vengeance.

GENUINELY sees adam as his son. he’s a bit harsh on him during TWIE because he never wanted adam in the insurgency at all. he and adam had a conversation at some point where anthony expressed this and told adam he wished the latter just went to a good college and worked in programming or IT.

would not have been able to kill calvin had he made it to the end. would also have not been able to kill aaron.

frederick traumatized this man just as much as he traumatized aaron, vincent just absolutely refuses to acknowledge it.

sophia knew about vincent’s love for aaron and may have even encouraged it.

if his love for aaron was reciprocated, they likely had a relationship while aaron was with the insurgency and tried to be secretive about it but felix carter just “I know what you are.”

he would be very sweet as a lover. very sappy. hopeless romantic. given who he was in love with, are we even surprised?

cigarettes are part of how he started aging again.

the insurgency kind of knows he’s older than he looks, they just say he’s in his fifties because he looks like it, but even TWIE says he’s been around as long as anyone can remember. likely, vincent surfaced as anthony wright around the same time that sylvester sloan joined the insurgency.

his plan in case anyone saw any old photos of vincent and noticed that he looked eerily similar to anthony was to say that he’s vincent arians’ grandson and that his mother was arians’ daughter.

vincent had no children, but he did like being around kids.

during his years with the foundation he’d often lock himself in his lab just to cry. aaron often checked in on him.

frederick repeatedly called him aaron’s dog as a joke that vincent found very not funny. vincent/anthony isn’t really big on dogs because of this.

if anthony saw adam today he’d be immensely proud.

if anthony had made it to the end he would have tried to make aaron tell him why he left. aaron would not have been able to tell him.

anthony was a bit scared of how much like aaron calvin is.

would have liked O5-11 if they met.

AARON SIEGEL / O5-1 “THE MAN WITH THE INFINITY GUN,” “THE FOUNDER”

if you claim to be frederick’s #1 hater and you’re not aaron siegel then you’re fucking lying.

very sappy romantic, similar to vincent, but only with sophia. she thinks it’s adorable. he just really loves his wife a lot.

cannot let go of anything for shit. if he was at the scene of vincent’s death he would have tried to bring him back.

had a very weird father-child relationship with sam.

tolerated most of the other O5s at best, especially rufus (O5-6) and valerie (O5-7).

felix has always been his favorite aside from sophia (and vincent during the insurgency days)

borderline personality disorder

capable of straight up hanging up on frederick. this annoys the absolute fuck out of frederick.

PETTIEST BITCH IN THE WOOOORRRLLLDDD he’s like a fucking crow

sees mortimer (O5-5) as family because he’s the grandfather of alison chao, at least in other realities. mortimer gets along well with aaron.

very easily sent into overstimulation, it’s unknown why. he’s only ever perfectly calm in a sensory deprivation chamber.

extremely pale.

lives at overwatch. often falls asleep at his desk or on the fucking floor.

wreck of a man, but a surprisingly exceptional leader when he actually feels like leading instead of letting valerie handle things.

the other O5s don’t even know much about him.

visits san marco as much as he can.

FREDERICK WILLIAMS / THE ADMINISTRATOR

obsessed with the string theory, literally discovered it before the idea was even conceived.

had a wife and daughter, both died horribly. his daughter was extremely young and he’s a tad bit obsessed with the idea of bringing her back. driven by grief but also the fact he’s just a Bad Person in General

extremely manipulative (canon), but also just likes to fuck with people.

sometimes he doesn’t even call aaron or calvin he just speaks into their heads.

sometimes he’ll just call them and ask shit like this. aaron would hang up on him but calvin can’t.

can manifest however he wants, he usually chooses the phone.

reality bender (canon) and extremely powerful at it. like it’s lowkey concerning.

god complex.

totally the kind of guy to go “no don’t kill me im just a girl”

adam ivanov as the engineer would beat the shit out of him if given the chance.

what aaron described in the apartment scene was literal psychological torture. aaron was not the only person he subjected, just his favorite punching bag.

aaron, near the end of his life, got him a world’s worst boss mug and kept it next to the phone. calvin got a second one just to drive the point home.

a bit obsessed with antediluvian anomalies (project paragon). talks to calvin about them extensively.

hated vincent for no real reason he was just a bitch.

[foggysirens]

being a fan of supernatural means never knowing a day of peace cause like beyond having to watch the destiel love confession scene get mangled beyond repair every time a world even happens some days you’re just minding your own business at work when suddenly you remember that the series ended with dean dying and that back at the bunker he had a job application/on-boarding paperwork on his desk and that a popular headcannon is that they were for a job as a firefighter because that’s what he always wanted to be growing up and like of course it was how could it not be when one of his earliest memories is carrying sam from the fire that marked the change of their entire lives and how yeah that’s probably one of the only jobs outside of hunting that he could fine true fulfillment in because he’d still be able to save and help people, something that is so core to his character, and like i know this is all things that have been said before but deans death is truly devastating for so many reasons but what sticks in my brain the most is the he wanted to get out, he had plans to get out, and who knows if they would have stuck but he was trying and then he died

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 18/03/2023 (Calvin Harris/Ellie Goulding, Miley Cyrus’ ‘Endless Summer Vacation’, Digga D)

Well, as you’d expect with her album dropping, Miley Cyrus reigns at the top of the UK Singles Chart for a ninth consecutive week with “Flowers”, and it’s a pretty busy week. Welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

Rundown

As always, we start our week with the notable dropouts – songs exiting the UK Top 75, which is what I cover, after five weeks in the region or a peak in the top 40. This week, the list includes “on the street” by j-hope and J. Cole, “Glue Song” by beabadoobee (seems like that was kind of a fluke), “I’m Not Here to Make Friends” by Sam Smith featuring Calvin Harris and Jessie Reyez, “Rumble” by Skrillex, Fred again.. and Flowdan featuring uncredited vocals from Elley Duhé and BEAM, “Ready to Fly” by Sub Focus and Dimension featuring uncredited vocals from Jo Hill, “Pointless” by Lewis Capaldi and “Just Wanna Rock” by Lil Uzi Vert. Now that I think about it, that is a list of songs exiting the chart wherein I’m pretty much positive on every single one of them, which is a damn shame – a lot of these songs are actually great, but who’s filling those voids?

Well, to find that out, we need to seek out our notable gains, which is kind of a strangely small batch this week. We have “Shivers” by Ed Sheeran at #63, sure, but the rest are in our top 40, and they’re... questionable, I suppose, with way less than you’d actually expect but this week’s activity is largely concentrated in its new arrivals. Those top 40 boosts go to “REACT” by Switch Disco featuring Ella Henderson and the late Robert Miles at #40, and Strandz taking his first top 10 – thanks in part to a Digga D remix – with “Us Against the World” at #10. It is still a busy week, but mostly because of big dropouts and big new entries, with a lot of the movement within the chart being more minimal.

This week’s top five on the UK Singles Chart starts with “Calm Down” by Rema at #5, thanks in part due to a remix with Selena Gomez, followed by “Die for You” by The Weeknd at #4 (thanks in part to Ariana Grande). At #3 we have our highest debut, with Calvin Harris and Ellie Goulding reaching their highest-ever peaking collaboration as “Miracle” lands at #3. At #2, of course, is PinkPantheress with “Boy’s a liar” (thanks in part to Ice Spice – a lot of remixes in this top five) and at the very top, once again, is “Flowers”. Now we have quite a few interesting stories to cover in our new arrivals, and because this country has some kind of vendetta against me, we start with...

NEW ARRIVALS

#73 – “MOTTO” – NF

Produced by NF

I... don’t think NF understands why he’s famous, or why his fanbase likes him. He starts off his first verse saying that he could have wrote a record full of radio hits, do features for hype, hire a board room to write for them, et cetera, but decided not to because he doesn’t want to since it sounds like a nightmare. See, the issue is: he couldn’t. If he wrote an album full of radio songs, his fans would still listen and buy for the first album, but when he continues, they’re going to lose hope. It happened to Logic, it’d happen to him too, and considering this guy is one of the few rappers whose pure sales are pretty great, that fanbase is directly tied to him in a way that is pretty personal and vocal. “Let You Down” was a radio hit for sure, and also a pretty okay song, but NF fans would not want to hear more of that. He couldn’t still be successful doing that, or at least he’d be successful in a different way, and he should know that so saying that he just denies doing it because he doesn’t want to may also be true but is kind of misleading, potentially inaccurate, because without the weird orchestral motif and awkward self-reflection that seems obsessed with his own career, NF is just Macklemore... and I doubt you even know or care he released a new album this month. It’s particularly frustrating given that this is a great beat, with the plosive percussion fitting NF’s aggressive, over-the-top delivery, but he continues to be completely lacking in self-awareness for a guy who raps solely about himself. I like what he’s saying about independence in the industry and the decreasing value of music, but if he has to say “no hate”, he ends up coming off as really irrational and defensive, which I don’t think was intentional by the anthemic chorus and boom-bap production. At some point, he’s just straight-up classist, somehow using the logic that someone who is unemployed can be on their high horse when talking to self-made millionaire “Christian rapper” NF. One point I do enjoy is when he speaks about the music industry, and as someone who follows charts, I kind of like when the charts get all meta on me – as they will continue to do later on for some reason – and the fact that he points out that in showbiz, it’s not about how big you are, it’s about how big you seem, is a great point and the distinguishing line between fame and success becomes starker in the streaming era. Speaking of someone who exemplifies that...

#72 – “Last Night” – Morgan Wallen

Produced by Joey Moi and Charlie Handsome

If you’re in the UK and you’re not a music nerd, you probably don’t know who Morgan Wallen is, but the guy sells millions stateside and I suppose his latest #1 hit in the US is now a vaguely viral hit in the UK. Ironically enough, I did say a couple weeks ago that I’m glad Luke Combs is the country crossover of choice for the UK instead of Morgan Wallen but to be completely honest, I don’t mind much of Wallen’s output considering that my taste in country is genuinely terrible and country-trap does not bother me nearly as much as anyone else. His more organic material also has a lot of heart to it, but I can never bring myself to listen to a full album, especially if they’re going to be 36 tracks long. The biggest of those 36 however is a song I actually like quite a bit, even if I’m pretty aware that it isn’t that unique. It’s a pretty solid pop song though, and that’s what matters: the guitars are clean, Wallen’s rasp adds a slight gruffness but still meshes, and the cheesy punchline of the “last night” title feels like a joke he and his writers wanted to get out for ages, especially with how long it takes for the bass and percussion to fully kick in. It’s a slick, fun slow burn which doesn’t particularly do anything interesting with its toxic relationship concept but given Wallen’s charisma, the great production from Joey Moi (who is usually NOT a great producer for pop-country) and how damned infectious it is, it’s kind of hard to be all that disappointed. If more country charts, you’ll see how much I go to bat for horrific pop-country, but for now, I feel like I can justify this one, right?

#60 – “Trance” – Metro Boomin, Travis Scott and Young Thug

Produced by Metro Boomin, Allen Ritter and Peter Lee Johnson

So this is an oddball – months after the album was released, a stray album cut that didn’t pose of much interest at first ends up charting. Now part of me thinks this has to do with the fact that Drake was supposed to be featured on the track, but was cut last minute, and his verse leaked and made the track go a bit viral. It does sound like a beat Drake would hop on too, which has me kind of conflicted about the song as a whole. I love what Metro did with this beat, as the synth bass rubs against the drying pool of eerie synths, providing some genuine intensity with the deeper bass and more electronic production, and the distortion added to Travis’ vocals during that first intro verse further adds to the atmosphere. With that said, Metro then returns to a trap beat that of course is good – it’s Metro – but it’s particularly standard when it had such an interesting foundation, and Travis as always is particularly boring on it, not even finishing his bars and basically mumbling a repetitious reference vocal instead of going back and adding in some grain of substance. I’m asking for at least one interesting lyrical decision or funny punchline, Travis, especially if you’re going to be such a drone. Thugger brings a lot more melodic variation and his rasp adds much more depth to his verse, with him giving the beat just enough space to develop strings under him. Sure, there’s not much in the content but his vocal riffing is really compelling against the pulsating bass and his harmonies with Travis develop into a great neo-psychedelic bridge, which seems like it’s going somewhere with the violins that vaguely crash against the otherwise streamlined production whilst also preparing some orchestral swell... before it just stops, and even with that build-up Travis just rambles over it. It’s a really promising song with good elements, but it’s also pressed right up against “Around Me” with Don Toliver in the tracklisting which goes for the same bassy, eerie intensity and is much more successful, whilst not rejecting any of Metro’s typical trap beats. It’s honestly fascinating how “Around Me” isn’t the hit – it’s even catchier, partly because “Trance” doesn’t even have a chorus. I doubt this will last that long in the charts but I’m just frustrated with the promise this track shows and fails to realise, and yes, mostly because of Travis Scott.

#48 – “1 on 1” – D-Block Europe

Produced by Dirtbike LB

Huh, I didn’t know Dirtbike LB was a producer. This is the newest loosie from DBE, a UK rap duo I find increasingly tiring with the sheer amount they release, especially given they’re not exactly as comical as they used to be, probably because that was never truly on purpose. Once again, it’s a lot of flexing, crime and girls, but Young Adz sounds particularly... broken here. Like, he’s malfunctioning. To be fair, the beat is a bizarrely-mastered clash of guitars and flutes, but it’s not unsalvageable, he’s just interrupting his own bars with exclamations and adding echoing ad-libs that make his nonsensical flow even more slippery and incoherent. Typically, Adz is the more understandable one, but Dirtbike... kind of freaking kills this. This is what I was saying when I said the beat isn’t unsalvageable: Dirtbike doesn’t sacrifice any of the dejected melody he usually brings when he amps up the energy and intensity just a tad for a fast-paced, great flow that plays with the beat and seems pretty singular. I really want to hear Dirtbike go this hard more often, even if there’s little wordplay or interesting conceits, there’s a cohesion to the flexing due to a repeated lyric opener, it makes his busy life of decadence actually sound both busy and enjoyable – it’s about as good as a verse on a DBE song should be. It’s a shame that the rest of the song just doesn’t live up.

#42 – “Mother” – Meghan Trainor

Produced by Gian Stone and Justin Trainor

So, Meghan Trainor seems to actively be trying to release the worst song she can possibly create, featuring a Goddamn Kardashian cameo in the video which just reeks of... pre-pandemic. I suppose this must be in solidarity with the UK, so that our Eurovision entry this year – which we will get to – sounds like “Bohemian Rhapsody” in comparison, with Ivor Novello-level lyrics. Thank you, Meghan Trainor, for having the interests of the British public in your heart. We appreciate it. On “Mother” itself... I have no further comment.

#35 – “Home for My Heart” – ArrDee and Cat Burns

Produced by Jake Gosling, LiTek, WhYJay and AoD

Ah, the Nelly and Kelly Rowland of 2023 London. I actually could be snarky about this being a useless sappy pop-rap throwaway but I think this is a decent, homely feeling song with a slick albeit uninteresting acoustic guitar lick and an interesting dichotomy between Cat Burns’ exhausted, soulful hook and ArrDee’s stoic voice that delivers some honest bars on a beat that has some vague Afrobeats influences but with all the layers of streaming-service-nothingness in the chorus, it feels more like one of those classic “thugs need love too” tracks. With that said, lyrically, it’s actually a vast improvement over them, as whilst Cat Burns’ parts are written like a love song, the mantra of “Please don’t give up on us” may actually refer to a general motive of self-improvement, as ArrDee’s verses are all about struggling to find the ever-coveted “me time”, something that I can definitely resonate with and I love how the verses recontextualise the hook like that, even if it’s not fully intentional. Like Morgan Wallen before them, this is not a particularly interesting song when it comes to how it sounds and the topics it tackles, but it does it pretty well in my opinion and services as a pop song I can appreciate. That is not the case for our next track.

#30 – “I Wrote a Song” – Mae Muller

Produced by Alfred Parx and Lewis Thompson

Eurovision season will be in full effect soon, and it’s in Liverpool this year so there’s a lot of hype behind the UK’s entry to the annual Song Contest. Personally, I think I’d give it nul points: the meta conceit isn’t bad, with Muller writing a cathartic song in response to a breakup instead of acting irrational and unproductive. At no point is it shown that it’s also very much okay to do that as well, which falls out of line with the fact that Muller criticises this guy for covering up his cheating with his mental health issues. Oh, and the song she wrote was utter garbage: the cheap bubbly synths sound straight out of 2014, the melodies are as non-descript and easy as possible and it relies on cheap vocalisations that are deathly annoying. The production adds random vocal and acoustic guitar riffs to make its vaguely tropical sound seem anything but radio fluff, but fails since the chorus is watered down and lacks any punch, and the compressed mix seems like it’s actively against you trying to distinguish instruments from each other. Her vocals are nondescript when they’re not irritating, and the bridge is a cheap, ugly switch-up with an awful mix and absolutely no payoff. Given our performance last year, you’d think we’d try and step it up because for once, we have something to lose, but alas, maybe we should sink the island and try participating in the underwater song contest. Hey, it’s a 50/50 chance: the only other contestant would be the Maldives.

#27 – “Jaded” – Miley Cyrus

Produced by Greg Kurstin

So, Miley released her new album, Endless Summer Vacation and whilst nothing from it is smashing as hard as “Flowers”, it got her the #1 record in the country and we have two debuts from it here. I wasn’t a fan of the big #1 so I didn’t have high hopes but I actually love this. The synths and watery bedroom pop guitars cascade over the lackadaisical groove as Miley coats her nostalgia about this past relationship with a regret that is a real shame, especially since she’s aware that they’ve grown, both apart but also as people, yet they still can’t make things work. There’s a lot of frustration that comes with that feeling, which explains the way the drums stumble over each other in the pre-chorus and how forceful her delivery of the chorus is. I just love the synthwork too, and especially Miley’s delivery: her rasp gives the impression that she’s just as jaded, and makes the incompatibility just that more frustrating given that they’re kind of in the same place. Her voice is rich and impassioned, and the way the chorus just shatters through mix like crystal on those second and final choruses hit like a brick. I do think the jealous bridge is a tad clunky, but it’s worth it for that crashing final chorus, full of great backing vocal riffs and an instrumental that sounded way more organic than where we started. The synths sound much more rubbery and prominent in that first chorus but by the end, it sounds a lot more natural, almost like she’s willing to just suck it up and accept what’s lost is lost. I know it’s not the single, but this is an excellent track. Please give it a try if you have yet to hear the album.

#19 – “Energy” – Digga D

Produced by X10 and HARGO

Welp, we’re back to Digga D releasing, and I didn’t realise how exhaustingly dull I found his brand of drill until he came back and released a song with yet another great beat – or at least great idea for a beat, as the vintage chipmunk soul sample sours on me as the song goes on to do... very little of anything to change and keep interesting – but ruined by Digga D, who is just boring. He constantly stops the beat for out-of-place ad-libs, and whilst he brings much more energy than say, Central Cee, he is void of charisma and just ends up unlikeable in all his flexing and posturing. The flow in the second verse is pretty good, I’ll admit: in fact, I like the verse quite a bit, but that momentum just doesn’t carry into the final chorus, and he doesn’t deliver upon some of the promising ideas proposed, like questioning his relationship with God and faith as a whole due to the crimes he’s committed. Come on, man, the thesis is right there and this is the beat to deliver that kind of content: just go for it, man. Maybe he’s writing from the heart on his album tracks, but as for now, this is just another underwhelming single and it’s a shame because there is a lot here that could result in something great.

#16 – “River” – Miley Cyrus

Produced by Kid Harpoon and Tyler Johnson

This is the track that got the single push and the music video – does it deserve the push over “Jaded”? Well, the glassy synths sound particularly cheaper here, and when placed against the rubbery bass, it reminds me of electroclash in a way that I really did not expect from an older Miley, if I’m honest. It doesn’t necessarily fall flat with the Space Invaders synths bleeping in the background of the chorus and Miley’s sing-songy half-spoken melody, but it’s also not particularly sexy for a sex song. The whole “river” metaphor is a well run dry – pun very much intended – and the mix feels pretty awkward in the way that it tries to balance Miley’s layers of vocal effects over a beat that really should sound grimier. The main crime, however, may be the fact that such a weird song gives me so little to talk about, and it definitely does not sound like the second single from a smash album. That’s all I have on this one.

#3 – “Miracle” – Calvin Harris and Ellie Goulding

Produced by Calvin Harris and BURNS

You know, even with a weak chart, I did not expect the hype for a new Calvin Harris track to be this high. After all, his disco efforts were met with underwhelming results, and Ellie Goulding hasn’t had a hit of her own in years, so this collaboration being as immediate of a smash as it was kind of took me aback. I do like that Harris can experiment now and step his foot into different passions for both singles and albums markets, even if the British public clearly prefers one over the other, and with BURNS on co-production, I think I’m predisposed to as well. Ellie Goulding sings about a relationship that gives her a heavenly euphoria and begs her partner to take the chance to go further, and I could not think of a better instrumental for that young-love energy, as spiralling keys and synths surround her cooing. Once she gets into her falsetto, the plummeting hardcore bass arrives and picks up the pace, allowing for the rickety drums to clash through. Instead of a drop after that, though, we get an – admittedly cheap but charmingly so – piano breakdown that then builds itself up through a simple emotional force. It’s a basic piano melody that then hides itself back under the catchy hardcore beat for another verse, until her falsetto once again rubs itself against a deeper bass fuzz, except this time the escalation is immediate and grandiose, with fluttering percussion reflecting their accelerating heartbeats. It never fully locks into a groove either, because their love going further, whilst possible, is still a “miracle” – only starting to feel real. My only real complaint is that it fades out for radio purposes, when I want to hear this go further and further because it deserves an even higher level of detail, I want to hear this narrative pushed through, I want to hear what happens next, and that’s the most frustrating thing. Maybe a remix will give me more closure, but an extended edit would be great, or even just hearing how this is used in a DJ mix. The fact that Calvin Harris and BURNS have me gripped into the sonic theming of this track should be telling of how well they’ve constructed it though, and if Harris is going to briefly dip back into EDM tunes, I absolutely want to hear more where this came from.

Conclusion

With all that said, I think Best of the Week goes to Miley Cyrus for “Jaded”, and whilst I like the songs from Morgan Wallen, ArrDee and even Metro Boomin partly, Calvin Harris and Ellie Goulding are on another level with “Miracle” which is just edged out for the Honourable Mention. The worst song this week clearly is “Mother” by Meghan Trainor, which is handed the Worst of the Week fully with no hesitation, but again, she’s in healthy competition with our Dishonourable Mention, which goes to “I Wrote a Song” by Mae Muller. Again, I appreciate your help, Meghan. We’ll see in the coming weeks how Eurovision affects the chart, but for now, thank you for reading and I’ll see you next week!

[cjsinkythoughts]

Suits, Dresses, and Heels

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4000

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, More Mentions of PTSD, Gun Violence, Slight Mentions of Drinking, Club Dancing (You’re all gonna hate me for that part, but I’m not sorry)

A/N: Here’s Part 4.2 - The Second Part to Episode 3 - as requested. This is a little more scene-by-scene, but there are some off-screen moments. I’ll be posting Part 4.3 (which will have the rest of the episode) later tonight.

There’s a bit more information on Reader, but not as much as the last chapter. Sharon comes in during this part, so you get to see her and Reader’s relationship.

Also, I have mixed feelings about Zemo at this point. Not in the story, the Reader’s not a fan as you learned previously, but for me personally, he’s surprised me a couple times by coming back and helping.

Anyways! Thank you so much for reading! This isn’t beta’d so excuse any mistakes! Check out my other parts before you read! Thank you again! Stay tuned, loves!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The dress was far too tight for your liking, and showed way too much skin. Not that you didn’t like being a tease every once in a while, but for this mission, you’d rather have more cover and movement.

You had to admit though; Zemo had nice taste. The dress fit deliciously - which made you wonder how he got your size. The color and cut was devastatingly flattering. Plus, he let you do your own makeup.

Being the only female, you were in a separate area of the jet getting ready. Once you were done, you made sure to knock, even though you’d walked in on Sam changing too many times to count while on the run and had seen Bucky answer the door in nothing but a towel. It was mainly for Zemo’s sake, just a warning that you were walking in whether or not they were ready.

“Damn, girl! You clean up nice!”

You rolled your eyes at Sam, painted lips quirking up as you studied him, shooting him a wink. “You should try a mirror, Sammy.” You turned to Bucky to find him staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed at you. “What do you think, Buck?”

His mouth snapped shut and he cleared his throat, eyes exploring the dips and curves your body. “You…” He blinked once. Twice. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his intense eyes making you heat up, before he shook his head. “You look good.” He rushed out, before spinning on his heel shoving past Sam who was snickering.

“Where’s Zemo?” You noticed he wasn’t in the main area of the plane when you walked in.

“Rearranging our ride once we get there.”

You huffed, fixing your hair. “Oh God. We’re really doing this.”

“Yup.”

“Okay.” You looked down at yourself before looking up at the boys. “Something’s gonna go wrong, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely.”

“No doubt.”

Giving a slight groan at their simultaneous answers, you nodded. “Let’s try not to screw up too badly, boys, alright? I at least want to live long enough to see Peter graduate.”

Sam rolled his eyes with a scoff. “That kid’s a punk.”

“You’re a punk.” You shot back.

Bucky raised his hand. “I second that punk thing.”

“For which one?”

“Both of them.”

You chuckled as Sam gaped at Bucky, who shrugged innocently. The former assassin tilted his head in your direction to shoot you a grin and a wink, making you laugh more. Shaking your head, you go to make a joke when Zemo walked in.

“It’s time. We’re landing now.”

And just like that, the teasing atmosphere dissipated, leaving you anxious and regretful.

*******************

You walked by Bucky, arm linked with his metal one, listening as Zemo told Sam about his “character” he was to play.

“He’s a known womanizer - always has a gorgeous lady on his arm.” Zemo gestured towards you. “It’s the only way they’d let in a woman.”

“Aren’t we going to see a woman?” You questioned, gently patting Bucky’s metallic bicep when his hold on you tightened.

“Which makes it more imperative that you don’t act threatening. Women don’t make the same mistake men do; they don’t underestimate other women.”

You nodded. He had a point there. Bucky faced you, a frown on those pretty lips. “I don’t like this.” He mumbled.

“You think I do?” You whispered back. “With you being him again? Even if it’s just pretend? And need I remind you whose idea this was?”

“I know, I know. Just…” He sighed. “Promise me you won’t get hurt on purpose.”

Your forehead creased. “Why would I-?”

“To protect people. You always do. And I get it, I do. It’s why you started this in the first place, but…save yourself first, this time, okay?”

“Buck-”

“Promise me.”

It wasn’t often you could see the fear in his eyes, hear it in his voice, but you could then. Unable to do anything else you nodded, a soft, “okay” falling from your lips. He nodded back, pressing a kiss to your head, before letting you go as a car approached.

Bucky helped you in - the heels you were wearing were no joke - before sliding in himself, Sam getting in on the other side of you. “And you two can’t be…” Zemo gestured to the two of you as the car started moving, eyeing your still connected hands. “Doing that.”

“This isn’t my first theater production.” You snapped at him. “We’ll be fine.”

He raised his hands in surrender, turning back to look out the windshield. Once you arrived, you gave Bucky’s hand one last squeeze, before accepting Sam’s hand to get out on his side, linking your arm with his like you were doing with Bucky earlier.

“I finally get to see one of your performances, baby.” Sam grinned at you.

You smirked back. “Best seats in the house, too, Smiling Tiger.” He groaned at your jest, nudging you playfully with his elbow as you giggled.

“This way.” Zemo cut in, jerking his head in the direction you’d be going. You took a breath, steeling yourself, before the three of you nodded at each other and followed his lead.

You found the fellas reactions amusing, their heads turning to study and scan everything they could see. You were more subtle in the way you analyzed your surroundings, feeling a bit more at home in this situation than, say, fighting super soldiers on top of semi trucks.

Your jaw tightened, as did your grip on Sam’s arm, when Zemo started speaking Russian, the four of you pushing through a crowded bar. Sam ran his fingers over your arms, giving your hand a little squeeze, silently reassuring you.

It was a bit obvious Sam hadn’t done much undercover work, put he stayed in character and you were impressed. Especially when the bartender started cutting up the snake, which you had to look away for because if there was one thing you couldn’t do…it was snakes. You nearly gagged when Sam reluctantly downed the drink. 

Bucky eyed you, lips pursed in a way you recognized as him trying to hold in a smile. That made you feel a little better, hiding your own smile by turning into the crook of Sam’s neck. “Not. Funny.” He growled through clenched teeth, lips not moving.

“Kinda is.”

He grumbled under his breath, before the two of you tuned into the conversation between Zemo and a thug that came up, learning about the apparent power broker of Madripoor, which you a bit of from your time undercover there.

Sam held you tightly when Zemo turned to Bucky, knowing what was about to happen.

You didn’t like it. You didn’t like how easily aggressive he became. You didn’t like the little smirk Zemo gave as Bucky attacked. You didn’t like the cellphones being pointed in his direction. You didn’t like it.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” You gave Zemo a warning glare, a shaky breath leaving you.

He’d been doing so well. At least, for someone who had been through what he had. Especially considering it’d only been a few months since he’d been pardoned - half a year since everyone came back. You knew bringing Zemo on board had been a bad idea, but-

A squeeze to your hand pulled you out of your thoughts. You let out an inaudible sigh of relief as Zemo allowed Bucky to let the man he was choking go.

“Selby will see you now.”

One step down. You hoped that would be the hardest part, but you knew it most definitely wouldn’t be.

“You good?”

Bucky sniffed, giving you two a curt nod, before following Zemo. You bit your lip. “That wasn’t really an answer, was it?”

Sam shook his head. “No. No it wasn’t.”

Selby wasn’t exactly what you were expecting, but you’d come to expect that. You stayed on Sam’s arm, giving the guards coy smiles and playing with the fake nails you had on in faux-boredom.

When she purred at the man besides you, you and Bucky glanced at each other, with you resisting the urge to scrunch up your nose. “And who is this gorgeous creature?”

Your eyes snapped back to Selby, giving her a slightly bashful smile. “Celeste Addams. Pleasure.”

“Trust me, dear. The pleasure is all mine.” Alright, you thought as she scanned you with a smirk. She was swinging for both teams. You could work with that. “What’s the offer?” She looked back to Zemo.

Zemo gave her the offer - information about the super soldier serum for the Winter Soldier and the code words to control him. Your blood boiled as Zemo touched Bucky, fingers grabbing his chin. You swore, once this whole thing was over, you would kick Zemo’s ass. You should make a list, just to keep track of all the things he’d done, and no doubt would do, to piss you off. That way he’d know why exactly you were beating his ass.

A name came up, Dr. Wilfred Nagel, along with the knowledge that the super soldier serum was, in fact, in Madripoor. You and Sam met eyes. Second step down.

But before they could get anything else, Sam’s phone buzzed. You ducked your head, closing your eyes, mumbling “fuck” when you saw it was Sarah. Sam’s responses just made you inwardly cringe even more.

“The bank, yeah. We laundered so much mo-” He chuckled nervously. “Yeah. They’ll come around.”

Is he fucking serious? For the love of God, Sammy…

And then she called him Sam. Next thing you knew, Selby was shot and you, Bucky, and Sam were taking out a guard each, you growling at the fact that you couldn’t use your legs because the dress was too damn tight.

You had no choice but to trust Zemo’s lead, but word traveled very quickly here, and less than a minute after walking outside, you were getting shot at.

“C’mon!” Bucky grabbed your arm, pulling you besides him.

“Can you not right now?!”

“I can’t run in these heels!”

You glared at Sam, the killer six inchers on your feet feeling like hell. “Hell no! You did not just say that in front of me!”

“You started it!” You scowled at him, following Bucky into an alley, only to duck as shots rang out. Chest heaving, you looked around for the source of the bullets that killed the men chasing you.  Your “guardian angel” as Zemo put it.

She soon appeared in all her stunning, blonde badass glory. “Sharon?”

Sam quickly explained the situation, trying to get her not to shoot Zemo who she had a gun pointed at.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass,” she pointed the gun at Sam, then Bucky, “so that you could save his ass, from his ass.” And the gun was back on Zemo. She shot you a smile. “And your ass is looking beautiful as always.”

You grinned back. “Thanks. You’re not looking too bad yourself.”

As she spoke, your lips turned down. You had tried calling her after Germany, but it always went to voicemail. First thing you did when you got back was try to get everyone pardoned, but it was a process. And then you found out about Wanda and ever since…

Sharon was your first real friend. She was only a couple years younger than you and had been one of your first partners during your time with SHIELD. And the fact that she’d been on the run for years now, even with the Blip, her family not having seen or talked to her since…that was exactly why you couldn’t take a break. She was family and you found there was nothing more important than family. But when she needed you, you were out searching for someone who didn’t want to be found.

How were you supposed to choose between two sisters? How could you cope with the fact that you chose the wrong one?

“Sharon, we need your help.” She laughed at Bucky’s statement. “Please,”

She glanced at you and you nodded. “I’d appreciate it, Share.”

She gave a sigh before nodding. “This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town. You should be safe there for a while.”

She turned and started walking, and you were about to follow, when you remembered something.

Spinning around, your fist connected with Zemo’s cheek, Sam and Bucky shouting in surprise while the man stumbled back. “Don’t you fucking dare touch him like that ever again, or I will break every bone in your body.” You threatened, your expression twisting into a scowl as you grab his hand and bend it awkwardly. He grunted but didn’t move, knowing one wrong turn would break his wrist. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.” He ground out.

You pushed a little more, making him wince, before letting go and rounding back to Sharon, who was smirking at you. “Let’s get moving.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She jerked her head back over her shoulder to where a car was waiting, leading them over.

You quickly followed after her with Bucky on your heels and Sam dragging Zemo along. Speaking of heels, as soon as you got in the car - getting shotgun for the first time ever at Sharon’s insistence - you prodded the stupid shoes off your feet.

“Nice kicks.”

“Yeah.” You scoffed. “Unless you’re trying to kick.”

“Did you rip the dress?”

“I was tempted to.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you in something more comfortable. And you’ll look just as good. Not that you wouldn’t look good in literally anything.”

You chuckled, giving her a look. “Let’s not test that theory.”

She smiled back, nodding. “Fine. I’ll let you pick something out.”

Sam huffed, crossing his arms best he could, being squished with the two other fully grown men in the back seat. “Women.”

The two of you exchanged looks, rolling your eyes at the three pouting guys. “Men.”

*****************

“I’m gonna go check on the boys. But I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, looking through her closet. No dresses. And absolutely no heels. Flats, if you had to, but you’d definitely prefer sneakers right now. You decided on shorts and an off-the-shoulder blouse, grateful for the looser clothing.

“They’re idiots.”

You laughed and looked over at the door as Sharon entered. “Yeah. I know.”

“Cute.” She commented on your outfit, sitting on her bed. “They explained the situation. Sam said if I help, he’d clear my name-”

“Sharon.” You sighed, biting your lip. “I tried. I really did. I-”

She shook her head, smiling at you reassuringly. “No, I know. It’s why I’m not mad at you. Sorry I didn’t call back. How’ve you been?”

You shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”

“Even with the whole ‘Cap is back’ thing.”

“Walker’s the government’s pet. He’s not Captain America. He’s not…”

“Steve?”

Looking up at her from the ground, you nodded. “Yeah.”

“Do you miss him?”

You smirked, wagging your eyebrows at her. “Do you?”

She rolled her eyes, tossing a pillow at you. “It’s kinda weird now, isn’t it?”

“Maybe a little. But I can’t blame you. Have you seen him shirtless? Good God.”

Sharon laughed, shaking her head as you joined her on the bed. “How come it’s always you getting wrapped up in these things?”

“I have no clue.” You chuckled, crossing your legs underneath you. “First I’m answering a phone call from Bucky at five in the morning and next thing I know, I’m being kicked off of semi trucks, breaking criminals out of prisons and running in six inch heels.”

“You answer Bucky’s calls at five in the morning?”

You gave her a look. “Sharon-”

“No, no. Hey. That’s cool. Some girls like bad boys, some like jocks, others like nerds. You like super soldiers from the 40’s. Everyone’s got a thing.”

A playful shove turned into a pillow fight, which turned into a sparring session, during which you pin her on her back. “You’re getting better.” You complimented, getting up.

She glared at you, taking your outstretched hand and letting you pull her up. “I guess that’s why you’re an Avenger.”

“That’s still weird to say.”

“Why? You’ve been an Avenger since, what? Ultron?”

You nodded, straightening your clothes. “Officially, anyways.”

“Right. Because you were there for the Battle of Manhattan as the secret seventh superhero.”

“Yeah…I miss it. The anonymity. I’m pretty sure I’m one half the Senators’ speed dials.”

Sharon frowned, brows pinching together. “What about the other half of the OG? Where are they?”

“Thor’s in space, Bruce is MIA - which I can’t really blame him for - and Clint’s retired with his family.”

“You think he’s gonna stay retired?”

You shrugged. “I hope he does. He’s been trying to retire for years. He deserves it. Knowing him, though…probably not.”

Sharon crossed her arms, nodding at you. “So that leaves you.”

“Yes it does.”

“Do you ever think of taking a break?”

You gave a half-sigh, half-groan, making her smirk in amusement. “It’s…come up a lot recently. I dunno. I think I’m burning out, anyways.”

“What makes you say that? I was watching you guys with Selby. You’re still one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

“I-I’ve been having…problems.”

Her eyes narrowed, her hands setting on her hips like a mother about to scold her child. “What kind of problems?”

“Just flashbacks. Of different things. It happens at random times. Certain triggers; something someone says or does, or something I smell or hear.”

“PTSD?”

“Something like that.”

“Has it affected you in the field?” Hesitating to answer was answer enough and she nodded. “Then…maybe it’s time you do start considering retiring.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “At 36? There’s no way.”

“C’mon. It’s not too late for you to settle down. Go one a few dates. Meet someone. Maybe have a couple kids-”

“Woah, woah. Slow your roll.” Your features scrunched up in incredulity. “Pump your breaks. No one said anything about marriage or kids.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying…think about it. I heard even Bucky’s been on a few dates.”

It was your turn to narrow your eyes at her, hearing the suggestive tone in her voice and seeing the eyebrow raise. “Yeah. He has. A few. I told him to. Told him it might be good for him to, I dunno, get back out there.

“Or, you could just…go out there with him.”

“Not you too! Have you been talking to Sam?”

“Is it Steve? Is that what’s stopping you? Because you know he’d just want you to be hap-” She stopped as he phone vibrated, grabbing it and reading the text. “Company’s arriving.” She pointed a finger at you. “You got very very lucky. This conversation isn’t over. I’m not dropping this.”

You bit your cheek and nodded. “Alright, mom. Can we go party now?”

She breathed out a laugh and nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go party.”

**********************

“Hey, gorgeous! There you are!”

You smirked at the boys as they met you near the top of the stairs, eyeing Sam and Bucky appreciatively. Damn, could Sam pull off a turtleneck. And Bucky in black and skinny jeans? Sharon sure had good taste. “Today’s the day for attractive outfits, huh, gentlemen?”

“I’ll say.” Bucky hummed, glancing at your own outfit. “You look beautiful, doll.”

“You look very dashing yourself, Barnes.” You grin, pulling at the lapels of his black blazer and fixing the collar. You smoothed your hand down the front of his shirt, looking up at him with an eyebrow raised when he caught your wrist, keeping your palm over his heart.

He clenched his jaw, taking a breath, before letting it out, almost dejectedly, and letting your hand go. “Um,” He cleared his throat, hand falling down by his side. “Did, uh, did Sharon say anything more about these friends of hers to you?”

“Nope.” You shook your head. “Just told me to enjoy the party.”

“I guess we should go enjoy the party, then.” Sam nodded towards the stairs, where the music was floating up, her guests already pouring in.

You made your way downstairs, looking around the room. Sharon sure did know how to throw one, that’s for sure.

People were pushed together, dancing to the beat of the music, drinking, with colored lights flashing every which way. Bucky’s hand found yours almost instantly, and you smiled at him. “C’mon.”

“What?” His eyes were wide as you dragged him towards the groups of people dancing. 

“Dance with me.”

He shook his head violently. “I-I can’t.”

“I thought you used to be a dancer?”

“Used to. And I was a swing-dancer. Not…” He gestured around to the people bobbing up and down, moving their bodies with each other.

You waved dismissively, pulling him closer. “All you need to do is feel the beat. I’m sure you can do that, can’t you, Mr. Tough and Scary Assassin?”

He licked his lips, looking around nervously. You brought his hands to your hips, making his eyes snap back to yours, your own arms winding around his neck. You started moving rhythmically, nodding your head to the music, smiling up at him and giggling at the adorable concentration on his face.

“You, uh, you go to parties like this a lot?”

“I specialized in undercover operations, remember? I practically lived at these places for some of them.” He licked his lips, his grasp on your hips tightening. “Loosen up a little.” You laughed, catching his jaw between your fingers and making him look at you instead of the crowd surrounding him. You scratched at the scruff, speaking softly, but loud enough for him to hear. “It’s just me.”

He nodded and, slowly, a bit hesitant, started moving his body with yours, relaxing his tense muscles the longer you two danced.

“Nice hit, by the way. With Zemo earlier.”

You shrugged, turning in his arms, biting your lip when he pulled you closer, your back to his chest. “I didn’t like the way he grabbed you. It was unnecessary. I was thinking of making a list, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Your arms wound around his neck again, your head falling back to his shoulder. “Of things he’s done so far that warrant’s me beating his ass once this is done.”

He chuckled, warm breath tickling your cheek, thumbs tracing circles on the bare skin just above the waistline of your shorts. Your own fingers had found home in his hair holding his head where it was, his lips centimeters away from your ear. “Share it with Sam. I’m sure he has a few things to add.”

Your breath hitched as his metal fingers danced along your bare navel, arm tightening around your waist. “I’m sure he does…I thought you said you can’t dance.”

“I guess I just needed to warm up. I’m a bit rusty after eighty years.”

“Don’t seem that rusty to me.” You breathed out, turning your head to look at him. His tongue ran across his lips again, his eyes glancing to your own.

“Hey, guys!” The world and your situation came crashing down on you, the music you didn’t realize you’d been tuning out, along with the crowd’s boisterous laughter and cheers, rushed back to yours ears. The little bubble with just you and Bucky shattered. You both stepped away from each other; you cleared your throat and pushed down the heat that had nothing to do with the hundred bodies in the one room, while Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, the tips of his ears red with no help from the colored lights. Both of you were panting lightly, avoiding eye contact with the other three staring knowingly at you. Sharon nodded her head, gesturing behind her. “I found him.”

Sam nudged Bucky - who was staring at you, his jaw ticking and his throat tightening as he swallowed thickly - before jabbing his thumb in Sharon’s direction. “Here we go.”

You nodded, eyeing Bucky with a small smile. “Here we go, Buckaroo.”

[starshipsofstarlord]

Not on my boat

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | whilst helping Sam fix his boat, during the midst of its progression, Bucky corners you within the old Wilson heirloom, leaving your friend and future captain, rather disgusted in the both of you.

Warnings | tfatws spoilers, mentions of death, some angst, smut, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, bit of choking, swearing

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Hearing the waves crash against the side of the boat brought a smile upon your face, as you felt the breeze brush against your face. It was peaceful, fixing something rather than leaving it broken in order to save lives. If you weren’t swarmed with the government on your tail about how you were not allowed to use your powers, you’d be living out a free and happy life with the man you loved.

You were enduring a break from your assistance on the old Wilson vessel, your legs plodded around its platform, as you surveyed every piece that was in progress. Soon it would be in tip top shape, and when Sam and Bucky’s relationship was on par with that, that was when the two of you had planned to leave. There were plenty of things the two of you had to make up for before you could reside in peace; one of those things was that list of his.

It was a ledger of the amends that he had to make, a reminder of all the lives that had either taunted his own, or he had stolen from whilst he was not himself. James did not deserve the grievance that he was pardoned with, he was struggling, that much was clear. He had lost Steve, and then he was forced to watch as the shield had been handed off to some wanna be cap. To say he had been furious at Sam was a deep understatement, but as said, he was making amends.

Sam was a good man, you had learnt that much from the time that you had spent avenging to him. You had yet to tell him, but you weren’t planning on going back to that life after Karli was stopped, you wanted to continue working in the small shot bar slash grill, where Bucky and Youri would visit during your hours for lunch, and remain in that partition of worlds. Having Bucky and normalcy was a fine balance, which was a deep seated structure that you deeply needed.

If you did not have that then you were sure you’d explode, and hurt someone, or break something. That was no longer your duty, the fighting that you had spent most of your life giving into was coming to an end, and you were more than fine with that. A civilian life sounded good enough, and something that you could definitely settle for, though, you weren’t sure that Bucky would do the same, you hoped that he would.

That gleam in his eye was far too noticeable every time that he looked at that star striped shield. It had brought him much pain, but it had been there in the corner of his sight everywhere he had went. And now, Sam Wilson, the man that his best friend had entrusted with it, finally accepted the mantle, holding it in his firm grasp, ready to become the next captain to walk the earth, and both you and him knew that he would do far better than Walker could.

He was already a hero, he’d been fighting the Sam foes as Steve for some time, that was enough to know that he was ready. His hesitancy had been understandable, more so after listening to Isiah, though, it was nice to see Sam take his own path on this one. There were pictures of his younger self assembled upon the wooden walls, he was with his sister Sarah. She seemed like a nice woman, a part of you wished that you get to know her better, but she wasn’t a buyer into the whole superhero get advantages agenda, and nor were you.

From what you could tell, Sam had his advantage right here; his family. Sarah was supportive of him, always aiding him necessary, whilst she simultaneously raised to young boys, that looked admirably up to their uncle, and feeding the kids that they went to school with because their parents had no intention to. If you could, you’d buy a replica of her life, her head was above water, although the boat almost wasn’t.

The boat. It was an heirloom, something that you did not have of your own family. Everyone was gone, the only person you had was Bucky, and thinking of him caused a light chuckle to fall from your lips, he made you endlessly happy. But neither of you could have the picture perfect life, and that was why the pair of you worked, you were each well aware of the restrictions that taunted you both, and had both been down dark roads on more than one occasion.

Things were turning brighter though, as the sun glared through the old glass, casting luminosity to stroke the high points of your face. A gently creak had your head diverting to the door way, where no other than James Barnes was leant up against, his metal arm pressed to the frame as he adoringly swept his oceanic pools over your form, slowly stepping closer.

“What are you thinking about doll?” He asked you, his tone genuine, as you sighed from his words, rubbing your eyelid as you felt a small itch. You puffed your cheeks, as you placed your hands on the super soldier’s waist, rubbing small and vigilant circles through his grey shirt.

“Too much.” It was an honest answer, everything was rattling around like pins in your mind, sinking in and letting loose to their own will. They could not be organised, they would only tumble about again, until the box was empty, though, for now, you had nowhere else to put them.

“Sarah said we could spend the night.” At his words, you hummed, taking note once more of how generous the woman indeed was. “We get the couch, so you best be on your best behaviour baby girl, nothing dirty goes on inside.” A small smirk crept its way onto his handsome face as you gasped at his spoken intention, lightly hitting the vibranium of his arm.

“Why do you blame me for not keeping it in my pants?” You interrogated him, glaring up at the man with a furrow between your brows. “You’re the one that corners me, a lot like this actually, so that you can get your own way and fuck m- oh, that’s exactly what you’re doing now, isn’t it?” You scoffed, crossing your arms and stepping away due to the man’s hormonal impulses. “Why am in not surprised?” You asked yourself, shaking your head at the behaviour of your partner.

“Hey, I’m doing us both a favour. Sex in someone else’s house is not exactly appreciated, and there’s kids, that i would rather not risk getting caught by.” He moved towards you, grabbing an ass cheek in each hand, as he pulled you closer by his grip. “At least then, there’s a chance I can survive the night, without being woken up by you sucking me off, or riding me.”

He was pushing your buttons, and he far well knew that, almost too well. It was his technique to get you riled up, that way, there’d be no dismissal of his current proposal, though, you continued to wear that adorable frown that he loved so much, and so, he gave your ass another firm squeeze, causing you to gasp against his chest. “Fucking on their dead parents’ boat isn’t exactly respectful either.”

“We’re helping fix it, may as well take our break on board, let loose a little, release all that’s clouding your mind.” He shrugged, knowing that his words were tempting you into complying with his lustrous whim, and so, to put another step in to helping his cause, he stepped back, reaching behind him to pull his shirt over the back of his neck, leaving his muscular torso bare, and free for your eyes to roam.

“That’s not fair.” You whined at him, not stopping yourself as you moved closer, and smoothed your hands down his stomach. “You’re such a tease Barnes, why couldn’t you have just fingered me in the public bathroom and waited until tomorrow?” A groan slipped from your mouth, as you peppered kisses over his warm flesh, tasting the sweat on his skin as your tongue swiped over the ridges of his six pack.

“Where would the fun have been in that?” He watched you roll your eyes, but continue to work your way down to his navel, stroking his v line with your fingertips. “We’ve had sex on a plane, might as well add a boat to the list.” Bucky remarked, groaning as you put your weight down onto your knees, looking up at him with your pretty eyes, as you palmed him through the denim of his jeans.

He could feel his cock stirring beneath the material, wanting more, eager to breach the layers that were keeping your tongue from rotating around him. But he remained still, as you swept your hair out from your face, the noise of your pulling down his zipper audible, as you sent him a naughty grin. The man above you licked his lips, breathing a sigh of relief when you tugged his jeans and boxers down, his erection swiftly bouncing up, the leaking tip pointing rudely at your face.

With a quick hand, you grasped his length, rubbing over his veins as you pumped him, spreading the moisture of his precum over his rigid skin, aiding you in your movements. As you proceeded to jerk him within your grip, your mouth moved forwards, your breath fanning over his balls before your tongue slipped out to stroke them, swiping up the droopy skin, as you suckled one into your mouth, contently moaning from the flavour of his skin.

Your eyes had shut as Bucky opened his own, watching you through a hooded gaze as you happily assisted his genitals, sending him into a crusade of pleasure as you used your well adversed skill set upon him. Your bottom lip ran up his shaft, slowly dragging along his reddened skin, until your reached the tip, your hands fleeing down to fondle with his sack, as your mouth stuffed itself full of his cock.

“Baby girl.” He breathed, his chest feeling tight as he stood there, practically naked aboard your friend’s boat. James gritted his teeth, watching as you effortlessly bobbed your head up and down half of him, lazily grinning as gagging sounds eventually emitted from your throat as you had him down the back of your throat, saliva slipping down your chin as you shook your head from side to side with him choking you with his dick.

Though he worried not for your struggle, not as you moaned against him, your lashes fluttering though your eyes were shut. He reached his vibranium hand down, stroking the side of your face with the cool metal, a high whine whistling it’s way out of your nose. Your spare hand reached up, cupping it against you, as you hollowed your cheeks, steadily breathing your nostrils.

A light frown covered your face as you focused on smoothing your tongue on his underside, causing Bucky to throw back his head, his stomach sternly clenching as he felt his balls twitch; and then, before he could fathom it, he was filling your mouth, cumming down your throat, as he pulled out, the last of his seed falling upon your tongue as he manhandled himself, feeling sensitive as he watched you fumble your tongue around your mouth, swallowing the mix of your spittle and his cum.

“Taste so fucking good.” You spoke, laughing lightly as you stared up and saw his dazed expression. Bucky pulled you up, his hand cupping your ass again, as he backed you up against the dash, your back lightly hitting against the window as he pulled at your shorts, whisking then down your legs, rubbing you through your underwear. His tongue explored your mouth, tasting himself as he located your clit, your arms grabbing at his shoulders to push him down, to which he complied.

His noises echoed through your mouth, as he pressed kissed along the top of your thighs, his fingers surpassing the seams of your panties, swiping at your entrance, until his prodding ceased, and he sunk his middle finger into your pussy, feeling you clench around him instantaneously. His teeth bit into your skin, emitting a squeal out of you as you harshly tugged his hair, making him rut his loose cock against nothing but the air.

“So wet.” He mumbled against your skin, as his vibranium snapped the sides of your underwear, letting the damp material fall to the floor, as he licked circles around your clit with his tongue, pulley airy sounds of pleasure of of your lungs. He slipped in another finger, his nose being pressed against your mound as you tugged him even closer, feeling as though you were almost there. Then you came, his fingers quickly exiting you as his tongue plunged in your entrance, cleaning up all your juices.

“Need you to fuck me Buck, please honey”. The man stood, stroking his hard cock as he teased your entrance. He swiped it through your slit a couple of times, before slapping his head against your clit, making your mewl against his lips, as you licked your essence from around his mouth. “James...” His cocky demeanour returned, as he watched you glance down at his cock, pressing your lips together in desire.

“Thought you didn’t want to fuck me on the boat.” He sneered dominantly, gripping your throat with his vibranium fist, giving it a tough squeeze, finding it endlessly hot as needy tears pooled in the corners of your eyes. Your lips pouted as you sputtered to speak, but you were just so hungry for him. “Guess I’m just gonna have to take pity on you doll, aren’t I?”

With that,he wedged his way through your folds, filling you to the brim as he bottomed out, gently releasing your throat to paw at your tits through your shirt. “Move baby, move.” You mumbled, your head feeling dizzy as your nails dug into the back of his neck, pulling him closer so that you could place tender and supple kisses across the front of his shoulders.

And so, he began to thrust into you, keeping a grip on your hips as he raised your leg around his waist, driving into you deeper, your head tiredly lulling as you chanted his name in soft and delirious pants. “So damn tight angel.” The soldier muttered, biting down onto your chin as he kissed his way up to your lips, abusing the swollen flesh a little more. The kisses were sloppy and downright needy, his vibranium hand held your chin up so that it would tip in rhythm with his movements, making access to the inside of your mouth easier.

“Buck.” You mumbled against his lips as your eyes rolled, your own hand circling your clit as you jutted against his exceeding administrations, one hand crawling up into his scalp as you let our small screams. You were indefinitely close, and as Bucky swerved his head around your own, moving his lips to nip at your earlobe, you came, coating his cock in your wetness, as he continued to hit his hips against your own.

It wasn’t long until he followed after, your clumsy hands trailing down to roll his balls in your palms being the last thing to push him over the edge. Bucky remained standing between your legs, each of your heads resting over each other’s shoulders as you felt each other, eyes closed, and smelling how the aroma of your sex wafted around you, like a personalised perfume.

“Hell no.” And the peace was broke, as Sam’s voice broke it. He had his hands on his hips as he shifted his gaze away from the two of you, unimpressed by what had happened. “The two of you get a break and you - not on my boat!” He practically screeched like a falcon at the pair of you, his arms flailing about like a bird’s flapping wings.

Although he was maddened, it didn’t settle well with you. You were too far out of it to acknowledge what he must have thought about the on deck dick that you had gotten, you were too lost in Bucky, the feeling of him still inside of you, and the falling of his cum out from beneath you both. “You know what, I’m outta here.” Sam left, quite glad to do so.

“You alright doll face?” Bucky asked as he pulled out, making you wince from the feeling of emptiness. You nodded as he reached for your underwear , leaving them be when he registered he had torn them, and instead opted to picking up just you’d shorts, pulling them onto your legs, redressing himself afterwards.

“I love you Buck.” You smiled tiredly, humming as he pecked your lips a few more times, combing his hands through your sex hair, as he returned the facial expression, seemingly calm. It looked good on him, the pair of you had momentarily forgotten your traumas, and it was bliss.

“Love you too darling.” He pecked your nose, staring lovingly into your eyes as he helped you down, and abled you with support to stand. “Unfortunately I think our breaks over beautiful.” He spoke, his hand upon your waist as the pair of you walked from the scene, going to fetch a bottle of water from Sarah, whom you hoped had not learn of your oversea adventure .

[sappynapper]

Couples costumes you’d go as for Halloween x crew boys

Featured CCs: Dream, Sapnap, George, Karl, Quackity

cws: fem!reader, suggestive, alcohol mention in george’s

it was chilly today and now I am so fucking jazzed for halloween LETS GOOOO

Dream:

Percy and Annabeth - Percy Jackson

Nerd alert. He’s a percy kinnie and he wants to go as percy and annabeth and that’s that. you agree when he gives you those puppy eyes and calls you his “wise girl” (i’m going to scream). You spend the evening basically in character bc he keeps knocking things over with his sword and you keep wondering how you got here. you look cute in your matching orange shirts tho, makes it the most obvious-that-you’re-a-couple couple costume which dream is a fan of bc he’s clingy :3

Anakin and Padme - Star Wars

I repeat: NERD ALERT. He needs an excuse to buy a lightsaber and carry it around for the evening quoting that frickin “if you’re not with me, then you’re my enemy” thing. also he gets high key flustered seeing you dressed as his childhood crush, especially in that white outfit 😳 ((padme amidala supremacy🧎)) side note, this is actually not a couples costume because it also includes sapnap as obi-wan lmao. he is only slightly less nonplussed than you are

bonus: mans has the nerve to joke about going as shrek and fiona and then refuse to follow through smh

Sapnap:

I don’t know shit about anime so now neither does y/n even tho realistically sapnap would insist on anime costumes but anyway

Snorlax and Charmander - Pokemon

It was your idea, and admittedly sort of a cop out. you were busy ok??? but when you brought home the pokemon onesies, Sap was 100% on board. A fun halloween costume and he got to be cosy all evening?? how could he say no. Plus he thought you looked unfairly adorable with your lil flame tail and and literal sweater paws. can’t stop putting his arms round you all evening :))) 🔥

Fred and Daphne - Scooby Doo

mans agrees to go as fred and daphne so he can see you in a mini skirt send tweet

but fr it’d be cute as heck and i can see some of your friends going as the rest of the scooby gang (karl and tina as shaggy and velma? iconic??) dream might even let you put a scooby doo collar on patches for photos 🐾

George:

Flint Lockwood and Sam Sparks - Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs

Basically i think George isn’t super into costumes so the idea has to be reasonably low-key if you want to convince him. this one was perfect bc it really only involved wrestling the boy into a lab coat and attacking his hair with some extra strength hold gel (win win bc you get to have your hands in his hair and he gets to have your hands in his hair 😌) but the effect was still very much there. meanwhile you’re stuck hot glueing pipe cleaners and pom-poms to an umbrella to make a spaghetti and meatballs twister reference prop so your costume isn’t just a blue cardigan lol. george is very nice about the ugly ass homemade prop that you end up throwing in a skip after three drinks :3

Karl:

Ashitaka and San - Princess Mononoke

Karl would basically be down for any Ghibli duo but this is the one i can see him pulling off (as much as i would die to see him in a howl pendragon wig). You guys would put together the costumes yourself (couples crafts 😍) and they come out so cuuuute. I don’t normally include photos but these are the exact vibes i’m envisioning:

Cosmo and Wanda - Fairly OddParents

Iconic and easy to pull off with some simple colour coding. you get those spray cans of non-permanent hair dye from like claire’s and get it all over your dang hands help each other apply it. you also paint each other’s nails and you make little gold crowns and wands with stars on the end. actually adorable vibes by the time you’re done. highly instagrammable and you keep a polaroid of the two of you in costume in your phone case 🥺

also i think he’d wanna go as sword art online characters maybe? but i haven’t played it so

Quackity:

Lightning McQueen and Sally Carrera - Cars

ffsjfkdlfhb somehow he convinced you. i don’t know how. but now your face is smeared with blue face paint and Q has lightning bolts on his cheeks and the whole thing is so unbelievably cursed. it’s smudged before you even leave the house from the tears of laughter streaming down your faces, and you’re both just collapsed on the bathroom floor struggling to catch your breath and starting back up laughing every time you look at the other’s face

Gomez and Morticia Addams - The Addams Family

Last year he made you go as a blue cartoon car so now you can force him to don an outrageous fake moustache and pinstripe suit for the evening :) low-key he actually looked handsome asl though (you were mad your revenge plot kinda backfired tbh). if it helps you’ve got the sauce as morticia and mans is overwhelmed to say the least 😌

[iceman-maverick]

behold, toby ziegler modern au

this man is timeless so he’s pretty much the same except the things that annoy him are different 

more modern au! 

okay let’s go

toby has a major superiority complex over josh and sam about social media. he thinks they’re mindless, millennial sheep (moment of silence for the fact they’re millennials) that are imprisoned by the chains of mark zuckerberg. that being said, he is compulsively, bodily and spiritually, obsessed with stalking the interns on linkedin. 

toby and donna have a 749 day long Words With Friends streak going on. he considers it to be the most stable relationship in his life. 

if you’ve read my previous modern post, you’d know that toby has been banned from the west wing spotify for war crimes. to combat this, he is now single-handedly trying to kickstart the Pandora Renaissance. 

toby has beef with john green, no he will not elaborate.

...but i will LOL he wrote a scathing review of the fault in our stars when the movie came out and now is perma-banned from vidcon (?? he wasn’t even invited in the first place?) 

instead of the insider trading issue from season one, toby’s NFT and bitcoin activity gets outed by a congressional hearing. josh almost has a heart attack over it. 

cj has a particularly tough day with the press compounded by her dad getting worse, so toby sets up one of those electronic picture frames in her office and loads it up with pictures of her family and the staff. it doesn’t fix everything, but it sure does make her smile :) 

toby ordered an uber on charlie’s phone one time but forgot to log out. that was over three years ago and charlie’s still charging toby’s card whenever josh and he order ubereats.

before joining the campaign, toby had a moderately successful blog where he would provide vicious, in-depth analysis of different mommy food bloggers. you know the ones where kathy tells you her life story before giving you the snickerdoodle recipie. he’d straight up be like “not only is this utterly irrelevant to the properties of cake flour, you’ve managed to use every form of your incorrectly in a single post about your great-grandpappy’s time in the war. great-grandpappy would be ashamed of you and what you’ve made of his bloodline.”

the entire west wing prefers to use google docs but toby’s hill to die on is that word is the better software (i mean he’s right but he doesn’t have to be so fucking annoying about it). he accidentally corrupts the final draft of the state of the union while trying to convert it over. donna saves the day, but he still blames sam. 

toby is aware of west wing fanfiction and he is not fucking happy about it. especially when he realizes how popular he is with +40 year old housewives. it unnerves him. josh likes to print out different y/n toby fics and tape them to his office door. 

no matter what their relationship status is, toby never kicks andy off of his netflix. he checks in from time to time to see if she’s still watching the real estate show they used to watch together. 

toby has literally never had a fully charged cellphone a day in his life. ginger walks around handing out portable chargers all day long and he still somehow is under 15% at all times

toby purposefully kicks over those food delivery robots whenever he has a chance. it makes donna cry. 

sam goes around his back and puts out a stronger message against school vouchers on the POTUS social accounts than toby wanted to, so he retaliates by switching all of sam’s devices to Bing.  

one night while drinking, josh and sam find toby’s pinterest account. they’re expecting super cringe, if not incriminating, shit but instead find extremely thoughtful boards put together of the different people toby writes for. it helps him get a better understanding of the person and lets him get more comfortable with their voice. 

josh almost cries when they find the board titled Lyman 20-?? 

and lastly,,,,toby loves minions, mostly because of how much cj hates them. he’s a particular fan of kevin. he finds little motivational minion quotes and sends them in the senior staff groupchat, but jed thinks they’re sincere so he’s just like “...thanks for that toby”

[heliads]

The Football Player (Part One)

Based on this request: “Bucky is a football player and you are a fan of the team but you're also really shy. Secretly Bucky also developed a crush on you. He sees you getting mocked by some idiots and he gets in between to stand up for you. Later then he asks you for a walk and he kisses you.”

masterlist / part two

According to every ounce of common sense still left in your body, you should be paying attention. You’re in school, might as well actually learn something, right? You have a test next period, and if you were smart or wanted to pass at all, you should be focusing right now, tracking every single word that your professor is saying. The only problem is that you’re not doing this whatsoever. No, your gaze is instead directed out the window, where a certain football team is just beginning practice.

It’s not like you were intentionally trying to get distracted. You had come to the classroom right on time, pencils lined up and notebook out, ready to start the day. Your gaze just happened to accidentally shift to the window instead, and when you saw number seventeen in red and gold, well, how could you focus on math at a time like this? You’d seen James Barnes around the school many times, but he never ceases to amaze you.

Honestly, even talking about him tends to light a fire behind your cheeks. You’ve seen this movie dozens of times before: shy, studious girl falls for the football player, hijinks ensue. However, this isn’t a Hollywood blockbuster. Bucky is a star member of the team, and you’re just a fan of your school’s football games. Whenever you do icebreakers in class and you’re forced to describe yourself in one word, you always reach for ‘bookish’ or ‘smiling’. Certainly never ‘superbly athletic’ or ‘on Bucky’s radar in any way’. Those aren’t even one word.

However, you never quite seem to let yourself be brought back to reality. Time and time again, you don the red and gold colors of your school- Mid-Capital University, or MCU, ready to go cheer on the team and your favorite player especially so. In fact, there’s a game tonight, you’ll be going with your friend. No matter how many times you laugh at yourself, though, you can’t shake your crush. You doubt it’ll be going away anytime soon.

The night is young, the shouts loud. You cheer with your friend and the rest of the school as the football team runs out onto the field. Their manager, a Mr. Stark, watches from the sidelines, yelling directions or complaining about how much the equipment is going to cost. The team jogs over to their captain, Steve Rogers, to huddle up and discuss final strategy. Steve is a senior, and you’ve heard rumors that he’s chosen Sam Wilson to take his place as captain next year. He’s Bucky’s best friend, so you’ve heard, although they pretend to fight often enough that you’d think they were rivals.

Bucky is here as well now, eyes glinting from underneath his helmet. He’d had long hair for the longest time, but when he’d cut it over the summer there had been more than a few desolate sighs from the cheerleaders. You had to smile at that- at least you weren’t head-over-heels enough to give up your crush based on his hair. You weren’t that bad yet.

As you watch, the team takes their position. They’ll be playing their rivals tonight, the Hydras. Steve heads to the back, Bucky and Sam on either side of him. Further along the team, you can begin to recognize other players- Scott Lang, a kid who’s scrawny off the field but seems to grow twice in size the second he puts on his gear, Peter Parker, the freshman who managed to make it on the team within his first few days, and Natasha Romanoff, the one girl on the team who’s got a death stare promising she’ll tear any objectors to shreds.

The whistle blows, and the teams are off. You watch with bated breath as Bucky darts left, right, catches the ball from Steve and takes off down the field. Apprehension grows across the student body until at last- touchdown, your school! You rise with the others, cheering in unison. Maybe you’re just being silly, but you could swear Bucky looked at you with a smile just as he started off back towards the line.

The rest of the football game is a breeze. Your school wins easily, and Bucky definitely did his part to secure the victory. The next day, everyone is still buzzing over the catches and near misses with their friends, not wanting to miss a single moment. You suppose it’s still on your mind, which is why you’re frozen in your tracks when your new lab partner sits down beside you in biology.

It’s Bucky. Of course it is Bucky. Of course, the one time you have to have a new lab partner in class, your teacher manages to have the terrible luck to place you with the one person who reduces you to a blushing mess every time he steps within ten feet of you. Bucky slings his backpack down beside his chair, offering you an easy smile like a flyer, free of charge.

“I’m Bucky.” He says, and you remember yourself. “I know. I saw the game, you were really good. I’m Y/N, uh, by the way.” Bucky’s smile grows even wider when you mention the game, if that’s possible. “You saw the game? That’s so nice of you.” You feel like you can’t form a coherent thought. “Yeah, I went with my friends. Your team won.” You want to slap yourself in the head- of course he won, he was there. You’re stating the obvious.

But Bucky doesn’t laugh at you, or act like you’ve said anything strange. He just nods, shoulders slumping slightly as he thinks about last night’s game. “It was hard. I guess every time you go against your rival school the pressure’s just ten times worse. It took a lot to just run out on the field.”

He stiffens slightly after he says this, like he wasn’t intending on sharing that secret just yet. However, you’re just grateful that you’re not the only one saying whatever pops into your head. “I can’t blame you. If it’s worth anything, though, I thought you were great.” Bucky’s beaming smile is back, brighter than ever. “It’s worth a lot from you.”

Maybe this sudden seating arrangement won’t be that bad after all.

Your friend catches up to you the second you leave the biology room behind. She looks back and forth between you and Bucky’s retreating form, something in between astonishment and a teasing grin lingering on her face. “Tell me I didn’t just make that up. Tell me you’re actually the lab partner of the one and only Bucky Barnes, the guy you’ve been crushing on for, like, forever.”

You shove her slightly, although you can’t help but smile. “It’s true. I don’t know how, but it’s true. Guess the bio teacher really liked me that period.” Your friend loops an arm around your shoulders. “It’s not just him who really likes you. Did you see the way he was looking at you? All through class, he kept stealing glances. I think Bucky Barnes has a crush on you.”

You stop in your tracks. “That’s impossible. He would never.” Your friend crows in victory. “But he did! You don’t stare at somebody like that unless you’re hopelessly in love with them. It’s the same way you stare at him.” Indignation rises in you like a spring. “I don’t stare at him. I just observe, casually.” Your friend snorts. “Well, you casually observe him a lot. Honestly, I just see this as a success. If you can get the star football player to fall in love with you, then I think I can win the lottery or something.”

Even after your laughter rises and dies away, you can’t help but think about what your friend said. Surely it’s impossible- Bucky would never so much as talk to you outside of class, let alone have a crush on you. But your friend wasn’t exactly lying. You had seen Bucky out of the corner of your eye, the way a smile lingered on his lips when he glanced over at you. That wasn’t just nothing, right? Honestly, this whole lab partners deal might be more pressing than you ever thought possible.

The only way to move on is to go through the next day, and the next. After that, however, you have biology again, and that means finding your place next to Bucky Barnes and pretending like your heart rate isn’t skyrocketing the second he smiles up at you, saying he’s glad to see you again. Your friend keeps stealing glances your way, eyes wide and thumbs raised in an expression of impressed awe.

As it turns out, your friend isn’t the only one to see something between you and Bucky. You make your way out of the bio room, unable to hide a smile, although your happy outlook disappears the second somebody blocks your path across campus. This somebody just happens to be Mandy Fleming, bottle blonde junior who thinks she owns the school, and her entourage of preening followers.

Mandy folds her arms over her chest, considering you. Her lip purses. Evidently she finds something lacking. “You know, I don’t think we’ve had a proper conversation in a while. We need to make a few things clear.” You force a smile, trying to step around her. “Can we do it later? I have places to be.” Mandy curls her lip. “I don’t wait. This can’t wait. See, you’ve developed the unfortunate habit of spending too much time around Bucky Barnes.”

You raise an eyebrow. “We’re lab partners. What, you want me to ignore him?” Mandy’s eyes narrow. “That would be preferable. Next class, you’re going to go up to the professor and tell him you want to switch partners. Make something up about wanting to be closer to the board or something, I’m sure he’ll believe it.” You can barely listen to her. “And why would I do that?” Mandy takes a step closer. “Bucky is mine, not yours. I’m going to need you to back off.”

You stare at her. “You want me to switch lab partners all because a boy you’re not even dating is sitting next to me?” Mandy’s head rears back. You’ve obviously struck a nerve. “Listen here, honey. This isn’t an issue about me, it’s an issue about you. What, did you really think Bucky would ever even give you the time of day? You’re a nobody, a nothing, somebody not even worth a fraction of his time. Honestly, I’m doing him a favor by getting rid of you. He doesn’t want to see you, not for a second.”

With every word, you can feel your confidence plummeting. Mandy notices this, a smirk burning even deeper into her lips. Sometimes, you swear she can smell fear just like an animal. “You’re worried because you know I’m right. You’re pathetic, really, and Bucky Barnes wants nothing to do with you.” Just as you feel like you want to go back to your dorm room and never see the light of day again, a voice rings out from behind you. It’s a voice you recognize instantly, and one that Mandy does too, as she shrinks back the second she hears it.

“You couldn’t be more wrong.” Bucky steps forward, taking a place next to you. Mandy forces a smile. “I, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about. Y/N and I are just having a little chat about homework. We had homework, right, a textbook reading and-” Bucky cuts her off coolly. “I heard every word. If you think I’d want to choose you over her, you’re wrong. She’s a hundred times the girl you’ll ever be.”

Mandy stammers, fishing around for words but coming up with nothing. It’s almost cathartic to watch. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Y/N and I have somewhere to be. And if I hear you trying to talk to her like that again, believe me when I say that this won’t be the worst I’ll say to you.” Bucky offers you a hand like a proper gentleman, and you take it, letting him steer you away from Mandy and her followers, who are still gaping at your backs.

The second you’re out of earshot, Bucky turns to you, apologies and regret written all over his face. “I’m so sorry about that. It’s all my fault- she’s been trying to flirt with me all semester, and I finally gave up and rejected her, and now she’s taking it out on you. I wish none of this ever happened.” You manage to force a smile. “Trust me, it’s fine.”

Bucky looks at you, concern still lingering in his eyes. “Are you sure? I can talk to them again if you think they’ll bother you.” You laugh at that. “Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly alright.” Bucky smiles at that. “Well, if you are perfectly alright, I was wondering if you were busy this Saturday. I saw this new park that opened, and it looked really interesting, but if you’re busy or something we can totally do something else, or nothing at all, whatever you-”

You cut him off, unable to hide a smile at his rambling. “I think that sounds excellent. I’ll see you there?” Bucky’s face lights up. “I’ll see you there.” He gathers his courage one last time, then leans forward to kiss you. He flashes you one last perfect smile before disappearing around the corner, leaving you with a smile and the memory of his lips on yours. When you look up, you see scores of jealous girls staring at you, but for once, the attention doesn’t bother you. Why should it? You have Bucky at last, and he doesn’t want anyone but you.

marvel tag list: @mycosmicparadise​

[ageofevermore]

The Autocomplete Interview

Summary → your favorite thing about interviews is how cuddly tom gets afterwards, almost like he’s a life size teddy bear.

Warning(s) → literally nothing but fluff and tom getting teased by the reader and zendaya 

Word Count → 1.5k

add yourself to my taglist 

Tom has his arms wrapped around your waist, rocking your bodies while the makeup team touches up your eyes and hair. He’s in a conversation with Harry and Zendaya, occasionally humming as if he thinks you’ve said something, before he goes back to them. It’s heartwarming. 

Buzzfeed is your last interview of the afternoon, and then you’re free until nightfall when you’re expected at the Hilton across town for another round of press. It’s days like these that remind you of elementary school field trips, only instead of an ugly yellow school bus that was kept together by duct tape, you’re riding coach. 

When both you and Zendaya are cleared for camera, you bring Tom towards the chairs, shoving him back, and forcing him down on the one furthest left. A few laughs go around, watching your boyfriend get shoved around in his expensive slacks and neon yellow turtleneck. You’d teased him earlier about the denim jacket he wore, asking if he took it straight from your closet back home. He grinned as if you we’re the funniest thing he’d come across, placing wet kisses into your skin until you begged him to stop, laughing nonsensically and promising he looked ‘hella hot’. 

After a sound check, and a screen test to make sure none of you we’re washed out, cameras counted down from three. You squeezed Tom’s hand twice before you dropped it, eyes directly down the barrel of the camera. 

“Hey, it’s Zendaya here.” 

“Y/N” 

“Tom Holland.” 

Your boyfriend sounds entirely british as he pushes his fingertips together in his lap. He's tired, the long day wearing him thin. You can’t wait to strip your skin of makeup, let your dress fall in a pool around your ankles, and take a much deserved nap in his arms. As much as you love press, and being with your friends, you need your boyfriend's skin against yours. You need to decompress before you start all over again at sundown. 

“And we’re uh, about to do our,” Zendaya looks to you, grin on her face. She’s tired, you all are, but unlike you she’s miles away from anyone to cuddle with. Maybe you’ll ditch Tom, fall asleep with Zendaya instead. 

“Wired,”

“Autocomplete,” 

“Interview.” 

Zendaya’s handed the cardstock first, questions for Tom beneath strips of paper. You shudder, the same as Tom, when she scratches her fingers along the board and peels the paper away. You’re hardly as dramatic as your boyfriend, who coils into himself and raises his hands to his ears. You laugh, but your spine is still cold from the hideous noise. Your hand reaches out, and you tenderly pat him on the thigh. 

A joke about your wedding comes into mind, but you pocket it for later, not willing to risk your intimacy making it into the final cut of the interview. You may be open about your relationship, and the fact that yes, you are banging Tom, but you’re still reserved with most things in your life-- including the engagement ring that’s tucked away back at your London apartment. Maybe one day, after the wedding, you’ll be open to sharing the ring, but for now, it’s your perfect little secret. 

“Alright, first question. Does Tom Holland do his own stunts?” 

“I do actually, I do my own stunts, but there are some stunts that I can’t do,” Tom’s eyes shift to you when you mumble beneath your breath, entirely displeased with the many times he’s come home hurt after he insisted that he could do his own stunts. He had too much faith and pride in his limited gymnastics background, “and then I have my stunt double Greg and Luke, who are incredibly talented, and have made some of the action sequences in this film, I would say, some of the most incredible sequences ever. Um, yeah, so I do do my own stunts, but I can’t take full credit.” 

You smile softly, proud of all the work your boyfriend puts into not only his projects, but keeping himself in shape so the filming process isn’t so grueling. He’s missed out on a lot of sleep, but he takes his wins with his losses. He’s somebody you look up to. 

“Does Tom Holland play video games?” 

You scoff, rolling your eyes. You look towards your partner expectantly, lips coiled into an unimpressed pout. He’s the worst. No matter the hour, if he has a console with him, he’s chatting to Harrison until you either unplug the system, or crawl into his lap and beg with him to come to bed-- usually it’s the latter, but Harrison’s heard quite a few squabbles take place in your flat. 

“You know, every now and then.” He shrugs, and your jaw drops. You raise your eyebrows, eyes locked with his. His cheeks flush, but nothing needs to be said. Your expression give away that his habit of video games is definitely more than a ‘once and a while’ occurrence. 

Zendaya laughs, shaking her head at the pair of you before she pulls another sticker off of the board, looking down at the next question, “Does Tom Holland have a spidey sense?” 

“If he did, he wouldn’t have answered the last question lying through his teeth.” You say before Tom has a chance to respond. Your boyfriend, ever the bashful boy, ducks his head down into his hands as he laughs, shoulders shaking. 

You bear a smile at Zendaya, subtly winking. You’ve seen the compilation videos of YouTube and Instagram. You know that the fans have caught onto your relationship with the former disney star. You’d be lying if you said friendship wasn’t built on the foundations of picking on Tom, but your boyfriend could handle the heat. If he couldn’t, he wouldn’t be in the kitchen. 

Somehow, you make it through the first round of questions for each of you. Zendaya’s cracked jokes, but your social timer is running low. Tom can tell. You’ve stopped laughing at the little things, only offering small smiles and giggles. His hand wants to hold yours, rub circles into your skin as a promise that it’ll be over soon, but he can’t. He won’t let the world in on such a private moment. You already share so much of yourselves. 

“How did Y/N become famous?” Zendaya read off a question, eyes lightning up as she nudged you with her elbow. 

“Uh, Disney Channel.” You responded, a cheeky twitch in your lips as you tilted your head towards Zendaya. You hadn’t actually had a history with the company, but for whatever reason a rumor had spread that you and Zendaya went up for the same role back in 2009. You hadn’t, but you poked fun at the obscure lie as often as you could. 

“Who is Y/N dating?” 

“Tom Holland. Somebody’s gotta do his wash, and I don’t think Harry wants the job again.” You taunt, your boyfriend scoffing as he crosses his arms over his chest and sends you a sweet pout. You grin, tapping your thigh with your finger twice, a silent saying of I Love You. 

“What is Y/N’s favorite color?” 

You laugh, reminded of a question Zendaya got earlier about what she’s been up to. Sometimes, people's intense interest in your lives was confusing. You didn’t think yourself to be entertaining, but the millions of follows and fans who dedicated hours to edits and draws said otherwise. “Purple.” 

“Who is Y/N’s favorite Holland?” 

The three of you burst out laughing, your forearms resting on your thighs as you came back to yourself. The questions towards you were random, but the ones directed towards you provoked the most laughs. “I-- Besides Tom? I think it’s quite obvious who my favorite is, if we’re including him. Sam. Sam’s my favorite.” 

You smile when the cameras cut, concluding your interviews for the afternoon. Tom pulls you back into his arms, whispering in your ear about how he can't wait to cuddle, curl up in your bed and sleep for a few uninterrupted hours before you’re sent back through the grueling process. You wouldn’t change your job for the world. Especially not when the constant conversation tires Tom out, and makes your already sweet boyfriend a life size teddy bear.

When you finally make it back to your hotel room, your eyes are barely open. You took your makeup off in the bus, and before Tom had even closed the hotel door you were kicking your high heels off and pleading with him to unzip your dress. He laughed, pulling his jacket off before he stepped up behind you. Letting it fall to the floor in a pool around your ankles, his arms wrap around you and tug you back into his chest. 

“I love you, you goof.” You mumble against his lips, turning your head to the side so you can kiss him just as sweetly as he holds you. His sweater is soft beneath your bear skin, but you shiver anyways with the new lack of clothing. 

“I love you more, Princess.”

☆ taglist (urls with a strike through won’t let my tag) →

@deionswannabegirl @killingbxys @mauvesdior @mischiefandi @dmonchld @waddlenut @tanakaslastbraincell @hollandsxheart @quacksonhehe @tothemoonandbackx3000 @stiles-o-dylan24 @tikapollak @tomthetease @spookybooisa @geminiparkers @teen--marvel @rogersparkerbarnes @sarcasticallywitty15 @anapocalypseinmymind

[athenasbloodyspear]

Don’t Make Me Beg Now Baby

CHAPTER ONE: EDGE OF DARKNESS

Hello fellow Greta Van Freaks. This is my very first Greta fic! I hope you enjoy.

MASTERLIST

Note: This fic contains mature themes, discussions of past non-con (no members of GVF involved) and drug use. Minors DNI. 18+ only and please take care of yourselves. (See Ao3 for full tag list)

You can also read this fic on Ao3 if you prefer!

Jake Kiszka x Original Female Character

Picture this: The boys are in Northern Michigan to write the new album and they meet a wild young woman who works at a local record store who has a rough history with rock bands.

She doesn’t want to fall into the same traps she fell into before. He doesn’t want to hurt her.

The rest of them just want them to figure their shit out.

Note: While this fic is based on the members of Greta Van Fleet, I obviously do not know them personally (lol) and nearly 99% of this is a fever dream I decided to write down. Some tid bits are based on things said in interviews/photos/songs but please do not come for my neck if you dislike my portrayals as this is a STORY that I have entirely made up.

This will be a slow burn, overly dramatic, cliché fest of me missing my Mitten State and wishing more than anything I could move back home. Their music makes me homesick and for that I’ll never forgive them. ;)

Chapter Under the Cut

CHAPTER ONE: EDGE OF DARKNESS

The tiny bell on the door to “The Edge” clanked as Jake pushed his way in, followed by Josh, Sam and Danny. The afternoon sun streamed through the slats in the windows at a harsh angle, illuminating the swirling dust. The boys all immediately took a deep breath. They all loved the smell of this place. A mix of dusty old vinyl's, incense and weed. 

The Edge was the shop owned by an old friend, Levi, who had been a longtime family friend of the Kiszka’s. The boys had made the near three hour drive to the shop whenever they had a spare weekend in their younger years. They bought Levi out of his guitar strings and drumsticks and always looked through the boxes of vinyl's hoping to find treasures. Levi sold an eclectic mix of music equipment, records, books, home goods and comically horrific coffee. 

The Edge is where they had each bought their very first instruments, had their first beers and even smoked their first joint. It was a special place for them. 

The old wood floors creaked with every step, the wood walls were covered with old articles from Rolling Stone, photos Levi had taken and autographs from the artists who had cycled through the place over the years. There were stacks upon stacks of vinyl's. Shelves of old autobiographies and music theory books. There were speakers stacked from floor to ceiling, and the whole right side of the store was jam packed with basses and guitars. The back corner had a few keyboards and a drum set, but plenty of catalogues to pick even more instruments from. There were cases of drumsticks and guitar picks and strings. The middle of the store had tables full of incense, candles and interesting home goods. There were tables where local artists sold jewelry, art pieces and furniture. It was full to the brim, most shelves rising way up to the ceiling. Most needed a ladder to reach the top. The basement had a sound studio with even more equipment set up to be used to record, or to test out. 

Levi had inherited the place from his father, who had built up quite a legendary roster of friends over his years. The shop was just off Front Street on the main drag of Traverse City. Levi’s father had made a name for himself as a great host to bands looking to escape to northern Michigan to hole up in cabins and write albums. Levi continued the tradition and took it a step further by buying the space next door and turning it into a club with live music on the weekends. 

If you were lucky, you could catch some super huge bands playing for only about 100 people in the dark side room of The Edge. 

“You bastards finally made it!” Levi called out as he came sauntering out of the back room. Levi looked the exact same as the last time the boys had seen him. Tanned skin from his days paddle boarding and hiking along the Lake Michigan shore, sandy blonde hair that was brighter in the summer, perpetual 5-o-clock shadow because he just couldn’t be bothered to shave, shell necklace around his neck, light wash jeans low on his hips with the same old cowboy boots he’d been wearing since the boys were 12. 

“Is that grey hair I see Levi?” Josh leaned forward with an exaggerated squint. Levi laughed, snagging Josh’s head to give him a noogie. 

“I may be older than you punks by a few years, but I’m not greying yet.” Levi released Josh from his headlock and gave him a shove. 

“I’d say 37 is more than a few years older than us, grandpa.” Sam snarked. 

“You’re makin me regret extending my hospitality, kid.” 

Jake felt himself relax fully for the first time in a really long time. It was just like old times. Exactly what the boys needed. 

“Welcome back dudes. I’m surprised I’m still cool enough for you Rockstar types.” Levi crossed his legs and leaned back against the front counter. 

“We’ll never be too cool for The Edge. This place will always be way cooler than we could ever be.” Danny piped up, walking forward to wrap Levi in a hug. 

“It’s been too long man.” Levi commented as he smacked Danny on the back. 

“We know.” Sam said “Way too fuckin long.” He hugged Levi next. Josh and Jake followed up with hugs next. The room was heavy with a tinge of melancholy. Old friends who had missed each other finally reunited. 

“Well, have you guys been to the house yet?” Levi stepped around the counter and started pouring four cups of the famous nasty coffee. 

“Yeah we dropped our bags off before we headed into town.” Danny spoke up. 

“Isn’t it sweet?” Levi asked enthusiastically. 

“It’s wicked man. Thanks so much for getting that set up for us.” Josh grinned as he snagged a cup off the counter. 

The house was a mid century modern cabin right on the east bay shore. It came equipped with a huge garage studio, front deck and a dock out into the bay. Levi had bought the house in foreclosure and along with help from a bunch of locals (in exchange for beer of course) they turned the house into a perfect getaway for any artists looking to come take a break up north. The place had five bedrooms and three bathrooms with a giant living room with overstuffed couches and velvet chairs. The walls were covered in art and the shelves were full to bursting with plants. It was a kaleidoscope of colors and textures,  with mix matched rugs and lamps. It was Levi’s pride and joy. 

“I’m so glad you guys like it.” Levi smiled even bigger as he passed coffees to the rest of the boys. “Once you’re a little more settled, feel free to send me a list of equipment you want me to set up downstairs and you can start coming in whenever to work. But also, I think you should probably take a week or two off first. You all look about two seconds away from collapsing.” 

“Yeah we’re pretty fuckin beat dude. But we’ll send you a list ASAP.” Jake said, taking a burning sip of the coffee. It singed his nerve endings and he couldn’t have been happier about it. 

Levi opened his mouth to speak again, when a voice filtered through the window to the loft above the store. 

“Yo Levi!” the person shouted “Can you please get off your fuckin ass and pick music to play? I know Wednesdays are your day to pick but if you take forever I’m just gonna put on whatever I want and you can suck it.”

All four boys' heads snapped up to the window to the loft, but whoever was up there couldn’t be seen. All they could see was that the loft had clearly gotten a makeover. What used to be an upper level where Levi stored surplus supplies now looked like it had a plush velvet couch, lava lamps and plants in it. 

“Alright alright! I’ll get on it.” Levi called back up, shaking his head and chuckling to himself as he walked toward the central sound system behind the counter to scroll through Spotify playlists. 

“Who the fuck is that and what have you done to the loft?” Josh asked, hopping up to sit on the counter. 

“That would be the very best thing that’s ever fallen into my lap. A.k.a my new store and venue manager Maven. She moved back to the area after living in Hollywood for a few years managing bands and she completely changed my life. We finally have consistent stock, a longstanding line up at the club and I have had the time to start photography again. Truly a godsend, if not occasionally a pain in my ass. She turned the loft into a breakroom of sorts.  There’s a couch and table up there now. She practically lives up there sometimes.” 

“Damn she must be some woman if she finally got you to get your shit together with that club.” Sammy piped up. 

“She’s hellfire, I’ll tell yah that.” Levi chuckled, finally hitting play on a playlist. The first bars of Surfin USA by the Beach Boys came on the surround system and matching groans came out of Jake downstairs and Maven upstairs. 

“Not this shit again!” Maven yells. Jake chuckled to himself. Hellfire indeed. 

“It’s my day to pick so suck it!” Levi called back before faux stage whispering to the boys “I mostly just play this to piss her off.”

Levi clapped his hands together once “Well boys, It’s close enough to five o'clock and I owe you a beer. Let’s head over to Little Fleet for some grub and beers and we can catch up.” 

Josh grimaced as he sucked down the last bit of his coffee before lobbing the empty cup into the trash at the end of the counter. “You still make shit coffee Levi.” 

“It’s the one thing I wouldn’t let Maven fix.” Levi said with a grin as all five men exited out the back door. 

                                                           ~0~

The boys took a week to relax, as per Levi’s request. They spent the days hiking the shore, kayaking and drinking beer around the fire. It had been way too long since they’d done this. The release of The Battle at Garden’s Gate had been exhilarating and the fans' response had been everything they’d hoped for. People seemed to love the album and they were all so proud. But with press interviews and touring, they hadn’t gotten more than a day or two to relax at a time. And they certainly hadn’t gotten a chance to get back to their favorite old haunts in years. 

They stopped by the store almost every morning for a cup of coffee strong enough to jumpstart their hearts. Sometimes Levi joined them on their escapades, and sometimes he stayed behind to help out at the store. The boys spent a few afternoons sifting through albums and strumming on some of Levi’s vintage guitars. 

Mostly they caught up on each other's lives. The boys recounted their more personal lives that happened outside the coverage of the album and Levi talked about the past few years of his life in Traverse City. Levi told them all about Maven and how she was practically his little sister. They laughed. They drank. They had a blast. 

The boys noticed Levi was a little on edge occasionally, typically when they heard someone shuffling upstairs or equipment moving around in the backroom of the shop. They assumed it was Maven but weren’t sure, since they had yet to see her in the flesh. A week from their arrival they were all sitting in lawn chairs in the alley behind the store, smoking cigs and drinking their coffee when Sam finally asked. 

“So, why haven’t we met your precious Maven yet? Hiding her from us or something?” 

Levi shifted a bit in his chair. “Um..” he coughed out a laugh. “I am actually. Yes. But it’s the other way around, I’m hiding you from her.” 

“Afraid she’ll fan-girl or something?” Josh commented as he ashed his cigarette.  

“In… a sense.” Levi coughed. “But in quite the opposite way you’re imagining.” 

“She’s a fan then?” Sammy piped up.

“She loves your music. A lot.” Levi sniffed and coughed again. “It’s a real safe haven for her. When she’s having a bad day I catch her upstairs laying on the floor smoking a J with sound cancelling headphones blasting your albums as loud as she can.” 

“Exactly how it’s meant to be enjoyed. With a joint in hand.” Jake chimes in.  

“Yeah..” Levi toes the asphalt a bit with his boots, but doesn’t continue.

“Soooo” Sammy drawls “Why can’t we meet her? We’re no stranger to super fans. I’m sure she’s cool.” 

“Um, well. It’s a bit complicated.” Levi heaves a sigh before flicking his cigarette butt into the coffee canister at the center of their little circle. “I suppose I can trust you guys. You’re friends. Do you remember the huge lawsuit that the band Undercover Heart went through last year? The one about the um” He coughs again, “Rape of one of their staff members by the lead singer Ryan?” 

“Yes. That shit was horrific man.” Danny spoke up. “I read all the details I could. They kept the poor girl's identity private but goddamn I felt so bad for her. She was a badass for filing that suit though.” 

“Yeah. She was.” Levi breathed. “So, this is strictly off record and if you repeat this to anyone I will skin you all alive, famous rock stars be damned.” 

“Jesus Levi.” Jake said. 

“It was her.” Levi choked out. “Maven. That’s why she ran back from Hollywood and ended up here. That dude messed her up and she just… she struggles with meeting famous bands now. You know how many people cycle through this joint writing stuff. She just… has a really fuckin hard time with it sometimes. Particularly bands she likes. I think it’s because once you meet someone, and in her case, discover how much of a monster they can be, their music isn’t… safe anymore.” 

“Fuck.” Jake said, flicking his cigarette into the canister. 

“Well I feel terrible for joking about her being a fangirl.” Josh mutters. 

“She just genuinely loves you guys a lot. I never really told her I was an old friend because I didn’t want her to be worried about y’all stopping by. I just know that if she knows you’re here she’ll take off and avoid coming by the shop as much as she can and not only do I need her here, but I think she needs the safety of the shop too. I didn’t want to wreck it.” Levi sighs again. “I know she’ll find out you’re here eventually, it’s inevitable. I just was a coward and didn’t want to break the news to her.” 

“She was a pretty well known band manager wasn’t she?” Danny asks. “She like… completely made Undercover Heart what it was. Before they hired her they were slated to be a one hit wonder but she hauled them into relevancy basically by her will alone.” 

“Yeah. She basically built that man's career for him. She gave him everything, and he took everything from her. If I ever see the man I’m liable to get my ass thrown in prison.” Levi mutters.

“I’ll help.” Danny says immediately. 

All five sit in silence for a few minutes, smoking the last of their cigarettes. When they’d all finished, they stood and stretched to head back inside the shop. 

“So yeah. Anyway, If you see her that’s fine, just… well now you have context for… her.” Levi says as he yanks open the door. 

A few steps into the back hallway, Levi suddenly halts, causing all four boys to nearly bash into each other. The front door to the shop had crashed open and there were footsteps stomping across the store toward the front desk. 

“Listen Levi,” Maven’s tense voice carried down the back hall. “I know Wednesdays are usually your day for music but I’m having an absolute shit fucking day so I’m playing Greta all day and there’s absolutely nothing you can fucking do about it, kapeesh?” 

The very opening chords of Edge of Darkness scratch through the speakers after she finishes her sentence and the boys all exchange a slightly amused look, grins spread on all of their faces. 

“Kapeesh.” Levi calls out to her. He spins and silently nods to the boys to head toward the back door. The boys attempt to be as quiet as they can as they creep toward the door. 

“Also, Levi?” Maven calls again. Everyone halts in their tracks. “You said there was a band coming in soon. Are they here yet? Do you need me to set up the backroom?” 

“Uh, yeah they’re here.” Levi squeaks. All five men share nervous looks. “They’re uh… up at the house.” He cringes at his lie. “I’m getting an equipment list from them today and then you can get started. 

“Cool cool.” Maven calls back. “Do you think I’ll like their stuff?” 

“Uh. Yeah.” Levi grins then. “I think you will.” 

“Wicked.” Maven calls back. 

All five men repress giggles as they skedaddle out the back door and into the alley. 

                                                        ~0~

The next morning the boys wake up to a group text from Levi. 

COME BY THE SHOP ASAP. COME IN BACK DOOR. HEAD DOWN THE STAIRS TO THE BOOTH. BE AS QUIET AS YOU CAN. 

A weird request, but they did as they were told. They all piled into the SUV they had rented and headed to the shop. Danny peeled open the back door as quietly as he could, and Sammy opened the door to the stairs. They tiptoed down and through the door at the end of the stairs that opened into the booth of a sound studio. Levi sat in front of all the mixing boards with a cup of coffee to his lips. He glanced over at them and softly said “coffees on the table.” 

“Why the weird text?” Jake asked. 

“Because of that.” Levi responded softly, pointing through the dark glass into the soundstage. 

The sound stage was littered with mismatched rugs, and a few milk crates that doubled as tables. There was a gorgeous seafoam green drum set toward the back wall and stands full of various guitars and basses. Along the left wall was a piano and a Mellotron set up exactly to the specifications Sam sent over. However, with all these beautiful instruments to look at that would normally catch their eye, it was the woman sitting on stool in the center, cradling a dark purple Fender guitar that made Jake stop in his tracks. 

Maven, Jake had to guess that’s who it was, was wearing checkered distressed pants, with a ripped up old band t-shirt cropped at her ribs, revealing a sliver of the rounded part of her stomach. Over top she was wearing an orange leopard print cardigan that ran down to her thighs. Around her neck was a series of long necklaces, and her wrists were adorned with interlacing leather bands. 

She was plucking out a melody with her eyes closed, rocking back and forth on the stool. Jake had seen countless numbers of people playing the guitar before. On the road, in the studio, studying old masters on YouTube. There was nothing overly special about the way she was sitting or playing, but he felt a little bit like he couldn’t breathe. 

“She never fuckin plays anymore man.” Levi whispered. “It felt like magic hearing music coming out of the basement this morning. I just felt like you should see it.” 

The melody she was playing was sad. Haunting is a better way to put it, and Jake couldn’t look away. Not even when Sammy placed a cup of burning hot coffee into his hands. She was moving her head along with her playing, the strands of her dark messy hair shaking back and forth. The group watched in silence as she played out the riff a few times, Levi cranked the volume of the mics in the space and they could hear her humming softly. 

“She has a strong presence.” Josh murmured. 

Maven suddenly stopped. Everyone froze as she heaved a sigh and stood from the stool to put the guitar back on it’s rack. 

“You in there Levi?” Maven said then. The boys still didn’t move a muscle. Jake’s head was spinning, having finally seen the face that went with the voice he’d heard in the loft for a week. She was beautiful. He couldn’t even really put his finger on why, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Even seeing her through the thick dark glass of the studio. 

Levi hit the button to the mic in the booth and responded “Yah.” He paused before adding. “Sounded good.” 

Maven snorted in a self-deprecating way and said “Thanks.” 

Levi hit the mic button again and said “You should play more.”

“Don’t push it Levi.” Maven snapped back. Levi released the button to his mic and let out a heavy sigh. “Can you check some levels on the lines for me? I think I have everything pretty good but I want to make sure before they get here today.” 

“Sure.” Levi replied. 

Maven pulled the amp cord out of the Fender she had been playing on and plugged it into another guitar, one more similar to the guitars that Jake regularly used while they wrote. 

“Are we looking for a punk or a rock-y sound?” Maven asked. 

“Um.” Levi hesitated. “Rock. Their sound is like…” He tossed a small smile over his shoulder at the boys. “Like Greta’s actually.” 

“Dope. I hope they’re not just copying the boys. They’ve got a mellotron in here and everything.” The boys smiled. She pounded out a few chords on the guitar. “Good?” 

Levi looked over at Jake for confirmation. Jake, who still had not taken his eyes off Maven, nodded. 

“Yeah, that should be good for raw sound. They can play with stuff too. They’re a pretty well educated bunch.” Levi called back.

“Thank god.” Maven snorted. “Not like that indie punk bunch you booked last month who needed me to do fucking all their sound mixing for them.” 

“Maven, I don’t think they kept asking you down here because they need help with their sound.” 

Maven just rolled her eyes at that.  

They repeated the process with each instrument, Levi silently asking for confirmation from the respective Greta member until they were sure the sound lines were all functioning properly. 

“Great work kid.” Levi called into the studio. 

“Ew don’t call me kid. I’m a 27 year old woman.” Maven called back. 

Levi chuckled. “You’re a kid to me.” 

“Whatever.” Maven muttered. “I’m gonna go take a walk along the beach. Smoke a little. Text me if they need me.” 

“Will do.” Levi called back. The boys all tensed, looking for places to hide, or to run up the stairs and back into the alley. Luckily, Maven took the back door out of the studio and up another hallway instead.

“Well boys, it’s all you.” Levi said. “Text if you need anything.” 

Sam piped up and said “Yeah actually, can you pick my brother’s jaw up off the floor?” 

“Jake see pretty lady play guitar and Jake brain break.” Josh teased. 

“You guys suck.” Jake grumbled. 

Levi cackled. “I thought you’d like her.”  

                                                        ~0~

Maven walked along the coast of the bay and absentmindedly smoked a joint. It was an overcast and drizzly day which meant there was no one around, which she preferred anyway. She was feeling on edge. The drizzle was very slowly building a small sheen of water on her arms and hair, but she didn’t mind. The cool water and gentle breeze combination was perfect. 

Maven sat her butt down in the sand and stared out at the waves. She normally wore headphones on her walks, her world was a near constant stream of music, but she had opted for silence today. 

Levi was being weird. He was edgy around her all week, sending her out every morning for tasks and disappearing without saying where he was going around 4:30 every day. She had come to the conclusion that whatever band was in town this week was a pretty big name. Or big enough that he was nervous about her being around them. She sighed. She hated when he tiptoed around her. Maven didn’t blame him. When she first started working at the shop she had had a couple pretty bad PTSD episodes that had scared the shit out of him. She owed him everything for staying with her, talking her down and making sure she was fed and had water when she got into one of her states. 

Levi was her best friend, to put it mildly. He cared for her, kept her safe and in return she busted her ass at his store making sure they had the best products, the best shows and that their artist getaway was something that people would go back and tell their friends about. She loved Levi like an older brother, and he cared for her like his little sister. She would forever be grateful to whatever power in the universe made her stumble into The Edge two years ago. 

She had been high out of her mind, as she had been most days after she came running back to Michigan with her tail between  her legs, and Levi had been struggling with an amp in the shop. She had walked in, spotted his struggle and didn’t even say a word to him, just walked over and fixed the wiring so that it was functional again. Levi had looked up from where he sat on the floor and said “You don’t happen to need a job do you?” 

The rest was essentially history. It only took two months of seeing him every single day, and him not letting her sour moods go by unnoticed, for her to spill her guts over some bourbon one night. About Ryan and Undercover Heart and how badly the whole situation fucked her up. How after she’d recorded her testimony she’d boarded the next flight to Grand Rapids and hightailed it up north. She came crash landing into Traverse City because she’d always loved it as a kid, and figured it would be a great place to start over. The small town she’d grown up in had too many people who knew her. 

He was extra careful with bands for a while. Never letting her be alone in a room with too many male band members, and carefully vetting everyone who came through. Eventually she told him off about treating her like a porcelain doll and he backed down a bit, giving her free reign over lots of the equipment set ups and giving her plenty of hours in the shop by herself. She was happy to do so, so Levi could focus on fixing up the artist house and starting his photography again. 

But he was still very gentle with her sometimes, and she’d always love him for it even when it pissed her the fuck off. 

Once she’d smoked the joint down to the roach, she tucked the end into her pocket. It was sacrilegious to litter near the lake. It was too precious to be fucked with. She meandered back toward the shop. Her plan was to grab her bag and head back to let her Pitbull, Stacy, out for a walk and pee. The girl had been cooped up all morning and Maven felt bad. 

She threw her whole body against the front door, as the latch often stuck, and the loud sound of the chimes clanged in the empty space. She rolled her eyes. Of course Levi left the shop unattended and unlocked. It was Traverse City, no one was gonna rob them, but what if someone wanted to buy something? 

She was humming softly to herself as she made her way around the edge of the counter and plopped down on the stool by the register. She whipped out her phone to ask Levi where he was. She had the message halfway typed when the door behind her, the one that led to the staff restroom, popped open. 

“You know, crime is especially low in this town but that doesn’t mean someone wouldn’t come in here and try to steal your precious coffee maker.” She tossed over her shoulder. 

“Oh.” Was all that came back. It was decidedly not Levi’s voice. Maven spun back quickly. 

“Sorry I…” But that’s as far as she got. She was suddenly face to face with Jake Kizska and all thoughts quickly left her brain. 

They both stared at each other for a long moment. Maven couldn’t quite figure out why he looked just as shocked to see her as she was to see him. He also almost looked afraid for some reason that Maven couldn’t figure out.

He was dressed in an outfit she’d seen him wear plenty of times. A black button up, half unbuttoned, loose fitting light wash jeans and a pair of well worn boots. His wrists were full of bracelets and his hair was longer than the last time she’d seen footage of their concerts, well past his collarbones at this point. 

“Hi.” Jake finally broke the silence. “I’m Jake.” He reached out his hand for a handshake. 

“I know.” Maven replied, and then coughed. Why did you say that you freak? 

Suddenly the front door bell chimed again, and Maven whipped her head to see Levi coming in the front door. She stood abruptly from her stool, skirted around Jake’s outstretched hand, and out from behind the counter. She scooped up her leather satchel on her way. 

She headed straight at Levi. He glanced over his shoulder and saw an apologetic Jake looking forlorn and lowering his hand back to his side. 

“Oh hey Maven-” 

“Hey dumbass, don’t leave the store unattended again. I’m going home to check on Stacy. Probably won’t be back for the rest of the day.” Maven spit as she stormed past him toward the front door. 

“Maven wait-” 

But she was already outside, the hinges bringing the heavy wood crashing back into the frame. The chime of the bells rang through the space. 

“Sorry.” Jake muttered. 

“Not your fault. I knew she’d find out eventually. Right now she’s probably just pissed I didn’t tell her. Which she has every right to be.” Levi sighed. 

After a few more beats of silence Jake spoke again. “Who’s Stacy?” 

Levi huffed a laugh. “That would be her Pitbull.” 

“Oh.” Jake said again. He felt crazy because his brain couldn’t come up with anything else to say. She was prettier up close. She smelled like the Lake and weed and sandalwood. He really wished she’d taken his hand. He shook his head trying to find his brain in it somewhere. 

The other three boys came clambering up the stairs and into the store. They all looked between Levi, who was still standing in the middle of the shop, and Jake behind the counter. 

“Are you two playing freeze tag or something?” Sam quipped. 

“Jake met Maven.” Levi responded. The boys' heads whipped toward Jake. 

“And… I’m guessing it… went well?” Danny questioned.

Levi finally walked back toward the counter. “She left for the day. This is on me. I should have told her y’all were here.” He snagged his keys from below the counter and walked toward the front door to lock up. “I’m closing early, boys. Let’s go get a beer.” 

“Kowabunga baby.” Josh said with a grin.  

                                                     ~0~

Maven sat curled up on her velvet couch, Stacy was her little spoon. There was incense burning, a bottle of wine open on the side table and a lit joint in the ashtray. She had changed into a giant t-shirt and boxer shorts. The soft sounds of John Denver playing off her record player. 

However, none of these things were easing her mind. 

She was pissed, mostly. At herself. At Levi. She was pissed he didn’t tell her they were coming. She was pissed that he felt he couldn’t tell her. She was pissed that she had acted like a freak in front of Jake. 

The anxiety was an endless pit in her stomach. She couldn’t go back there tomorrow. She couldn’t see any of those people. Not when she felt like this. 

She whipped out her phone and quickly shot a message to Levi, before chugging her whole glass of red wine and snagging the joint out of the ashtray. 

                                                        ~0~

Levi’s phone dinged on the table where all of the guys sat drinking beers and chatting. Levi glanced at it and quickly picked it up when he saw her name. 

“It’s Maven.” He said. 

“What did she say?” Jake asked, sitting up a bit in his chair. 

“Fuck.” Levi said, tossing his phone on the table, still unlocked. 

All four boys leaned in to read the screen. 

CASHING IN ALL MY VACATION DAYS. I’LL BE OUT FOR TWO WEEKS. 

“Fuck indeed.” Josh said, pounding back the rest of his beer.

[marvel-fanfic-writer-8675]

Falcon Universal

Pairing: Sam x reader

Warnings: fluff, cursing, teasing

Summary: You take Sam, your boyfriend, to Universal in Orlando and he freaks over one particular section

“Sammy! Where ya at hon?” You called out into your shared apartment, searching for your boyfriend. You had just returned from work at the hospital, and had a surprise for Sam. “In here sweetheart,” he called from the bedroom, you followed his voice into their and greeted him with a hug and kiss. “Guess what hon,” you teased excitingly, “hmmm, red wing got back from being fixed?!?” You shook your head and chuckled, “no, I took off work for the next week and I’m taking you on vacation, we fly out tomorrow so go pack! It’s warm weather!” Sam’s face lit up with excitement, and curiously, he was excited to figure out where he was going, but anywhere with you was a good vacation!

You took Sam to the airport, you’d kept it a secret this long, but it would have to be shared as the tickets would give it away. “Come on Sammy! We can’t be late!” You and Sam were running to the gate, your Uber got lost and was late so you were hence, running late, and had 45 minutes to check in and board the plane. “I’m commin’ baby. God! What’d you pack?” “That’s your bag hon,” you’s said as you both stopped to take a breath once your reached the security line. “Oh, right, sorry sweets,” you gave him a kiss and took your shoes off. You went through the security with no problem, but then it was Sam’s turn. “Oh my god! You’re the Falcon right?!? You saved my wife from a burning building! Thanks man! Can I get a picture with you?” The security guard running the metal detector asked excitingly. “Hey man, I would but my girl and I are running late to our plane, don’t want to miss it,” the security guard cut him off, “no worries my guy, I got you, what flight?” Sam gave him the flight info and the guard called into the desk over there giving some code. “They’re holding the plane till you guys get there, and you’ll be in first class, free upgrade,” Sam looked a little embarrassed, “thanks man, but uh, you didn’t have to,” “my pleasure, don’t worry about it.” Sam posed for the picture and you two made your way to the gate. “Never knew I was dating a celebrity.” You teased, Sam smiled, “well, you know, when you hang with the big dogs,” you laughed.

“Universal! Really sweetheart?!? Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Sam picked you up and spun you around when he found out where you were going, he’d always wanted to go. “Your welcome babe, I’m glad you’re excited, now let’s go!” The flight was nice, Sam held your hand during the turbulence, you weren’t the biggest fan of flying but it was better than driving for two days straight. You landed and collected your luggage, then you boarded the bus that would take you to the Sapphire Falls resort, where you were staying.

You checked into the room and it was amazing, you had a wonderful pool view, and you could see the Hogwarts Castle from there! You and Sam slept peacefully after calling Steve and Bucky and telling them you got in okay and in one piece.

Today was the day for the parks, you both got up early for the extra resort guest hour. You went first went through the Universal Orlando park, ending in Harry Potter land for lunch at the Three Broomsticks. You guys then rode the train over to Islands of Adventure. When you reached the Avengers land, Sam freaked. “Babe, babe, babe, look! They have little stuffed animals of all of us! Sam went into the store and went a little overboard, “they’re gifts for our friends,” he claimed. You also made sure you bought one of the Falcon stuffed animals, “sweetheart? Why?” “For when you have missions,” you retorted. “Why does HE get a ride but I don’t!?!?” Sam complained while you guys waited in line for the Spider-Man ride. “They could call it Falcon’s Flight and people could get strapped in and fly around the world,” you rolled your eyes, “yes hon, I know how you feel about the spiderling. You guys apparently ‘needed’ to eat at the Captain America character dinning for dinner, in other words, Sam wanted cringy pictures to tease Steve and Bucky with. That dining you got to meet with Captain America, The Winter Soldier, Falcon, and Black Widow. You guys ordered some pizza and talked while the characters moved about meeting each table.

The first one to come up to the table was the one playing Cap. Sam burst out laughing, “I’m sorry, he, he just knows Steve so it’s funny for him, again, I’m sorry.” The poor guy playing Cap had a realization, “oh my, you’re Falcon, like the real one!” Sam nodded, “can we get a few pictures? I need something to tease Steve with?” Sam asked. You stood getting their pictures; one of Sam holding his shield, one with Sam ‘running’ past him, on the left of course, and one with Sam just standing with the fake Cap. “Thanks man,” with that the Cap left and you and Sam sat back down, your pizza came out a few moments after.

The Black Widow actor came and she looked just like Natasha, you both got a few pictures with her. Next the Winter Soldier actor came around and Sam burst out laughing, again and you had to apologize, again. “Who the bell is Bucky?” The actor played along when you mentioned Sam knew the real Bucky, that was the reason for his laughter. This comment caused Sam to laugh even more. “Dude, you are perfect, just like the real Winter Solider, all you need now is a staring problem.” During the pictures ‘Bucky’ kept staring creepily at Sam, just like the real Bucky did. “Man, do you have a card or something, I need to hire you for Bucky’s birthday,” the actor gladly gave Sam his number and went onto the next table. “Gettin’ another person’s number I see?” You teased, “yeah darlin’ cause I just love Bucky so much,” he joked back.

You had just finished eating when the Falcon actor came. It was your turn to burst out laughing. The actor stood there shocked when he realized who Sam was. “Wow, they really did a good job, man my costume looks fire!” Sam high-fives the actor. You got some pictures with the fake Falcon and Sam did as well, his were a back to back one, one staring at each other etc.

You got back to the hotel that night and spent a while trying to make everything fit inside your luggage, Sam had bought a LOT. “Sammy, I know you had fun, but I think you bought too much.” You whined after spending 15 minutes trying to smoosh stuff in already. “It’ll fit sweets, I know it will.” After another 15 minutes you had the bags zipped, and you both laid in bed cuddling. “Darlin’ thank you so much, I had a lot of fun, you’re the best significant other a guy could ever ask for. I love you.” “I don’t know, I mean I’ve heard Bucky’s pretty awesome,” you joked, relating back to the previous event at dinner. “Ass,” Sam joked, cuddling you harder, “all seriousness,” you started, “I love you too, and you deserve it, for being so kind and caring, loving and handsome, always being there for me, and being an Avenger on top of the world’s greatest and handsomest boyfriend ever.” You kissed each other and you both slept soundly that night.