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astaroth1357 · 4 years ago

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The MC is a Valkyrie

Demigod MC Series: Intro

Greek: Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon, Ares, Hestia, Nyx

Norse: Valkyrie

A bit of a change of pace this time! No worries, I'm not done with the Greeks or anything. I just had this idea and wanted to get it out.

Valkyries aren't really demigods, but are a part of Norse myth as the minor divinities that help choose and deliver fallen warriors to Valhalla to join the ranks of the einherjar (the souls who will fight when Ragnarok comes). Valkyries are depicted as women who are fierce warriors in their own right. Despite their place as the gatekeepers of the Chosen, they've been said to sometimes take heroes and mortals as lovers or take residence in Midgard posing as daughters of royals/nobility.

Lucifer

At first, they thought they grabbed an heiress - which would have been bad enough - but then the MC grew wings, drew a spear, and asked who among them wanted a glorious death...

How hard is it to find ONE damn human on Earth? Isn't that realm supposed to be full of them??

Diavolo was thankfully able to talk their winged friend down from skewering Asmo and accepting the exchange on behalf of the human wo-… Midgard.

Living with a Valkyrie is different for sure. The MC is a proud woman who takes her role very seriously and she's seemingly deemed him and his brothers as candidates for einherjar (despite being demons).

He's tried many, many times to explain to her that they're not interested, but she's unconvinced. Now the MC watches his brothers like a hawk waiting to cart one of them off to Valhalla! Any mortal wound could be an excuse...

He's had to save Beel and Satan twice from getting dragged to that infernal palace… For whatever reason, she seems to have taken to them the most. Is it old Norse culture to favor the brash and strong? He has no idea...

At the very least, she knows better than to try to drag him into her little plans. Though he's sure he could qualify for the einherjar (obviously, why wouldn't he?) he has no interest in leaving his life here behind.

To think he'd actually have to put surveillance on his own brothers for their safety… But they're not going to get drafted into some ancient Norse war, not if he can help it.

Mammon

She’s an heiress… An heiress!!

Well, her human world identity is an heiress to a well-respected (and rather magical) rich family but that still technically counts! She’s crazy loaded back there! He’s in love!!

The only problem is that in the Devildom she doesn’t have a cent.

… and the fact that she keeps trying to get him killed. That’s also a problem.

In a way, things are not as bad and exactly as bad as that sounds. The MC apparently wants him to go to Valhalla (dope) but she can’t just take him there… He technically has to die in some kind of “vallent battle” first.

Her solution? Pick fights with nearly anything that moves and drag him into it!

Honestly, it’s pretty annoying… Sometimes he just wants to have a fun night out without getting into a barfight, you know??

At least the MC can handle herself… Hell, he was her "babysitter" but she barely even needed him. A lesser demon once made the bad idea of trying to cup her ass and lost a hand for his trouble…

Though, what this amounts to is the MC starting something then fighting alongside him like back-to-back badasses while looking for any excuse to scoop him up and fly him to Asgard!

Why does he put up with this? Well for starters human world rich is still rich, all he has to do is get himself a portal then he's living the high life! And secondly, well… what's the harm?

Sure, she technically wants him dead but he's the secondborn! The list of people who can take him down is so slim that it's not like he's in any danger. She even fights with him so things are a piece of cake!

Is this a case where he's 100% more forgiving because she's rich? Yes. Absolutely. But a golddigger's gotta eat somehow, right?

Leviathan

Is it weird to be jealous over someone not wanting you to die...?

Okay, that's an oversimplification but Levi can’t help but feel snubbed that the MC doesn’t have any interest in taking him to Asgard. Like, none! And why not??

He’s strong! He’s tough! He’s part snake too! Don’t the Nords have a thing about that? Like, there’s a giant snake they’re all worried about?? Maybe he could communicate with it!

Logically, Levi knows that he really shouldn’t press her on this… MC is pretty much a Grim Reaper with a Norse coat of paint and Asgard doesn’t really sound like his speed. No anime, no video games, not even cable! It’s just eat, train, and drink all day… Ew.

But still… What makes him an odd one out?

At best, she just knows he wouldn't be happy there. At worst, she's underestimating his skill… or maybe she's gauged him just right? He's always known he was weak!! 😫

Oh well... at least she's not a bore to be around. Far from it. She treats EVERYTHING like a life or death trial - he's pretty sure that if he challenged her to rock, paper, scissors she'd commend him for his bravery and swear on her sisters that she won't lose.

He once made the mistake of inviting her and Simeon for a game of Devil Party and they both got so into it that they nearly had a duel to the death as a tiebreaker…

Thank Devil that the game had a pre-programmed minigame for that kind of thing… It would have gotten messy otherwise.

Well, even if his other brothers go to Asgard, he can just chill out here with Lucifer and Asmo… right…? Actually, no, that sounds horrible! MC, he changes his mind!! Take him too!!! 😭

Satan

How many times does he have to say that he doesn’t want to go to Asgard?!?

Well, okay that’s not entirely true. Out of scientific curiosity, seeing the godly realm of the old Nords would be fascinating but he doesn’t want to stay, which the MC seems to have trouble understanding…

He’s not even sure why she's singled him out for einherjar status… Any one of his brothers are powerful beings in their own right and he’s not particularly, uh, “even-tempered” himself...

His best guess is she saw him wipe out a handful of lesser demons at some point and declared him Ragnarok material. He always ends up throwing around at least three of those idiots a week so checks out…

If he's being honest, her very existence raises so many questions… Does this mean that Ragnarok is real? Will the human world be swallowed up by the sea? Will the gods of Asgard fight and die as a new world is established? When??

Unfortunately, the MC won't tell him when it all will come to pass (he suspects even she doesn't know) just that Loki will trigger it… Someone keep tabs on that guy.

Until then, he just has to put up with her attempts to convince him but his patience is wearing thin… He's pretty sure he threw a bookshelf at her once but she caught it anyway so yeah...

He did challenge her to a proper duel too but… well let's say she's a Valkyrie for a reason and leave it at that. (Being saved by Lucifer was so humiliating… He's done here, move on already!!)

Asmodeus

First things first, she's gorgeous. Beautiful! Divine! (Literally 🤭)

Now that that's out of the way… She may also have a screw or two loose.

Like, he gets it. She's a Valkyrie and snapping up strong souls is her thing but come on… Mammon? Really? Why would he get into Valhalla instead of him, huh??

Why can't he get to go to the beautiful afterlife of the old Norse with all their strapping warriors, lovely maidens, and endless partying?? It's not fair!!

Ugh… and now she's got him sounding like LEVI! How frustrating…

Well, it may not be that bad. According to MC, he'd have to do battle training in Valhalla and that wouldn't really agree with his beauty routine. Like dirt, sweat, blood, and muscles? No thanks! Not for him.

He asked MC if he could get some kind of pass, but no dice… Maybe he could still convince her to let him vacation there… Or go for a visit? Just one? Surely that couldn't be so bad right?? He's heard that Thor looks NOTHING like people think he does and he's so curious!!

The closest he's ever gotten was challenging the MC to a fashion contest for a visit, but he dropped that idea quick when she proposed that they somehow include a wrestling match in the dressing room (and he knows she didn't mean the fun kind...)

As much as he'd love to get skin-to-skin with MC, the idea of getting locked in a chokehold was less appealing for some reason. 🤔

Ah well, he'll just have to make due admiring her wonderful body clothed for the time being… There's something to be said about muscular ladies, no?

Beelzebub

So she’s almost convinced him to join the einherjar like twice now…

He’s not the best at making decisions when he’s hungry and the MC keeps hyping up the food… Apparently it’s really good up there and MC says that she’s never seen an empty platter... Just thinking about it makes his stomach do backflips.

Thankfully for him, Lucifer usually steps in before Beel can sign his soul away and reminds him that he can’t just abandon the family for a meal, even if it is a feast.

You'd think he'd be annoyed but Beel isn't really bothered by her habit of trying to bring everyone to Asgard. At least not on a personal level.

Like Lucifer, he doesn't want to see his family broken up so he'd rather she wouldn't… But she's a Valkyrie right? It's what she does. It's not like she can help it.

In a weird way, he also thinks she means well. She just respects them and wants them to have a good afterlife. It would be kind of sweet if they didn't have to die for it first…

If he's being honest, he's not that worried about it anyway. His family is pretty tough, not a lot in the Devildom can take them down. As long as they're careful, everybody should be alright. 🙂

Maybe he could get MC to make some Valhallan food for them in the Devildom… Or he could get one of those immortality apples?? Though those would extend his life wouldn't they…? Oh well...

Belphegor

Belphie's attempt to kill the MC went something like this:

Belphie: *switches to his demon form* "I can't believe you actually trusted me!"

MC: *blinks* "Oh. So you want to challenge me then?"

Belphie: "What?"

MC: "Ah, now I see! You want to fight to prove your valor then die by my hand??"

Belphie: "What are yo-??"

MC: *summons wings and golden spear* "I like your spunk, demon!! Fight me with all you have and perhaps I'll take you to Valhalla! May you join us in our fight as a brother!!"

Belphie: "What the hell are you talking about!?!"

To his credit, he put up a good fight and probably would have gotten into Asgard if Lucifer hadn't intervened to save his life.

It can be said that the MC's Valkyrie-hood took Belphie completely by surprise. Sure, he thought she was a little weird for a "human" but challenging him to a duel to the death? That came out of nowhere!

His uneasiness about her only grew after he found out that she's been literally trying to get Beel killed! How in the world were his brothers so relaxed about this?? She's insane!!

So say what you will about the MC, but she's managed to do the impossible. She got Lucifer and Belphie to make up and work together on something! (i.e. making sure she doesn't send them all to their deaths)

Between Lucifer monitoring his brothers and Belphie watching the MC, they'll keep everybody in the Devildom where they belong. That's a promise!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me demigods

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justreadingfics · 5 years ago

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It’s a Deal (Chapter 1)

Chapter Summary: The first encounter.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 5.2k

Warnings:+18 only, smut, one night stand for now, fingering, oral sex (female receiving) sex deprived reader, multiple orgasms, boytoy!Bucky.

A/N: I can’t express how much I appreciate the awesome feedback the prologue received. I wasn’t able to reblog all the comments, but I do read them all and I can’t believe how kind you all are. I really hope I can keep up with your expectations. The link to my masterlist is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated. @lesqui I love you.

Prologue Here.

“Bucky Barnes?” you squeal after the air got caught in your throat, “You mean The Bucky Barnes?” Leaning forward and lowering your voice, you check if you’ve heard correctly, “Are you out of your freaking mind?”

“You’ve talked to him before, right?” Natasha frowns as if she’s trying to collect the information from her memory.

“Yeah, I mean, I usually see him at the Tower when I go see you and in almost all of Tony’s parties and all. He talked with Eddie and I once, he seemed pretty interested in our work with technology,” you say, remembering the occasion and all the enthusiastic questions he had made, right before disappearing from the party with a beautiful brunette on his arm. It had caught your attention how the super soldier seemed such a tech geek, but that’s the closest interaction you had with him.

“I don’t think your extensive knowledge was his only interest, though.” The smile twisting Nat’s lips can only be described as cheeky.

You side eye her, identifying her suggestions but not quite buying it. She must be going bananas to suggest Bucky Barnes could be the guy to help you with your… situation. You barely know the guy outside sharing the same space a few occasions and what you’ve heard of his public figure. Not to mention that, the times you’d seen him on social events he always had a couple of women on his neck.

“He’s an attractive man, you can’t deny that.” Natasha declares , rolling some pasta on her fork.

“Are you kidding me?” you scoff, “He’s hot as fuck, you can hear the sound of pants dropping when he passes by our department, he just loses to Thor- you should see what happens there when people just hear he’s around.” Your eyes go bigger for a second, making Nat chuckle, “Yeah, Bucky Barnes is fucking hot and that’s why he’s way out of my league.”

“Hmm,” Nat tightens her lips and grabs her glass of water as she leans back on her seat, “That’s not what I heard in his voice when he asked about you this morning.” She peeks at you from under her eyelashes as she drinks from her water.

“What?”

“Well.” She grabs the knapping to pat it over her lips, “I said I was having lunch with you and he asked if you were still dating Eddie… in a very not he’s out of your league way.” She mockingly mimics your voice before smirking at you.

You can feel the rush of heat creeping up from your chest to your neck, but you shake your hand, dismissing the suggestion on her comment, “I’m sure that means nothing and besides, no matter how horny I am, I’m not ready to get romantically involved with anyone else right now, that’s not I want.”

A loud and nearly hysterical laugh bursts out of Natasha’s lips. Placing both her hands on her belly her head falls back. Not finding what you could have said that was so funny you just lift a brown, staring at her.

“Honey,” she says when she finally stops laughing, keeping a huge smile on her lips, “You’re safe with him, I swear.” She raises a hand in a promising gesture, “Romancing you is the last thing on his mind. And if it’s not what you want either, if you’re looking for a no strings attached thing, Bucky will be more than happy to be your boytoy.”

The heat which started on your chest rushes to your cheeks when you let out an embarrassed giggle at her word choice, “Jesus, Nat…”

“That’s the truth,” she assures, “Let me put it this way,” Nat adds, leaning closer and gesturing for you to do the same, “If it’s a good fuck you’re in need of, he’s quite… let’s say…” she purses her lips , searching for the word, “Suitable… for the mission.” She bites her lower lip and winks. “I can guarantee you that.”

Your jaw drops at the confession, “Shut up.” A guttural tone comes out in your voice.

There’s nothing but smugness on her demeanor as she leans back, “A few months ago, he and I needed a distraction after a mission…” She shrugs, “Listen, don’t ever tell him I said that but the guy knows what he’s doing. That sinful tongue of his? Ugh, should be illegal…the best goddamn orgasm I’ve ever had in my life. And he was never weird or anything about it later, I gotta give him that.”

You can’t believe you don’t see a single trace of pink on Nat’s face as she tells you all of that…and you? You have no dignity. No self-control, anymore. You sure hope Nat doesn’t notice as you can’t help but brushing your thighs together. You were a lost cause when she mentioned the illegality of his tongue. That was a particularly hard no of Eddie and so help you God if you’re not turned on as hell right now by just thinking of the possibilities. You’re not blind or stupid. Bucky Barnes would be a dream guy to have in your bed, and if Nat says he might be interested and is on the same page as you are...

“How could we arrange that?” Your voice comes out a little too breathless.

Nat lets out a knowing chuckle, “Leave it to me.”

~~~

When Natasha asked where you wanted to first meet him you mentioned one of your favorite restaurants. You figured a public and neutral place would be fitting in case you decided to flee out of the situation for any given reason. After all, it would be your first encounter with another man other than Eddie after ten years and you thought going slow and gentle with yourself would be the right move.

That’s what you thought…

Now, having the guy in front of you across the table, his attention apparently focused on the menu on his hands looking like a goddamn God of sex… a public place is the last place you wanted to be.

You’re not sure if he notices you staring from above your menu as his eyes casually roam through his, but you don’t even care. You had seen him up close before and you always knew how hot he was, but now… with the prospect of what may happen tonight, it seems like all your senses are enhanced when it comes to him.

He had arrived a bit later than the scheduled time but you let that one go once you got glimpses of a disconcerting wide smile adorned by the five o’clock shadow on his face, which seemed especially designed to make women – and men- swoon. He’s wearing dark jeans and a blue t-shirt and you wonder how he can make the simple outfit so damn sexy. His fairly long hair is tied back in a low bun and you had to hold back the impulse to pull it back and grab a handful of his locks.

When he shook your hand you swallowed back a whine at the feel of his strength, wondering how it would be the feeling of his broad arms around you… by the tiniest of smirks on his lips maybe you’re not sure whether you succeeded in disguising that one.

He’s been a gentleman so far. Making conversation – with the sexiest voice you’ve ever heard- in such a natural and spontaneous way. You’re not sure what Natasha had told him beforehand exactly, but not for a minute he’s made you feel embarrassed by any chance and the scratch inside you only grew… desperate for his touch.

“Hmmm,” The sound coming out of his lips purrs into your ears and it hits straight to your core as he keeps his eyes on the menu. You sulk in a breath, “So many delicious treats…Can’t figure out what I want…” He slowly lifts his gaze to meet yours and you don’t know if it’s your horniness speaking but all you see there is a mischievous dark shade, “What do you want?” He darts his tongue out to wet his lips and that’s it.

“I want to get the hell out of here.” The honest answer comes out without giving you the chance to even think about it.

His eyes grow even darker and he immediately shuts the menu, dropping it on the table, “Your place or mine?”

~~~

The very moment you step into your living room, the boldness which had started to mold your attitude seems to lessen. You’re still horny as ever and still wish nothing but to be completely ruined by him, but the fact that you just brought him to the condo you bought with Eddie – the place where you had planned to live the rest of your life with him - starts to weigh on your shoulders. Besides you’ve never been intimate with anyone else, you don’t even know where to start, what to do or say.

Gulping down the anxiety, you hold the door opened for him and he walks inside. The uber ride to your place had been just like the little time you spent together at the restaurant. Small talk, him being respectful and nice and that’s it. He still feels like a complete stranger to you, which he really is, and you’re not sure how to feel about it yet.

“Uh, do you want something to drink?” you ask passing by him towards the center table to drop your purse, trying not to show your nervousness into your voice, “A glass of wine, maybe?”

Your breath hitches as the heat of his body hovers your back, “Is that what you really want now?” His warm breath tickles your ear and goosebumps rush over your skin.

“Ahm, D-did Natasha tell you about-” The rest of what you were about to say is swallowed by a sigh when you register the touch of his both hands on your hips. A light and simple touch and you can feel yourself already turning into jelly.

“She told me the situation, yeah.” Like he’s testing the waters, he circles his flesh arm around you, pulling you closer to his broad chest when you offer no resistance, “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Nuzzling into the crook of your neck he breathes in your scent.

Your head falls backwards into him and your legs shake. You’re incredibly turned on right now, just by the touch and proximity of him, you’re absolutely sure you won’t survive the night.

“Are you nervous?” he asks gently.

“A-A bit yeah.” Your breathing accelerates as his lips graze upon your pulsing point and his hand plays with the fabric of your loose skirt right over your lower belly.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” you answer a little too quickly and a little too loudly, “No…” you repeat yourself, making sure to sound a bit more confident as you place a hand over his and drag it down to the end of your skirt above your thigh. “I don’t want you to stop, Bucky,” you whisper, as you slide his hand under the fabric, bunching it on your way while you guide him to where you’re aching for whatever this night will bring.

Accepting your lead and your assurance, he hooks his hand under the lace of your underwear, coaxing out a gasp out of you as his touch eases between your folds, “Goddammit,” he breathes, softly moving his finger back and forth, “You’re wet already, beautiful. Is it all for me? Damn,” he curses under his breath, “You’re turning me fucking on.”

You answer him with a wanton moan as your eyes flutter shut, letting yourself drown in the expert movements between your legs.

“Try to not overthink anything… I know what you want…” As his finger teases over your clit, he whispers in your ear, “I want it, too.” When he kisses your neck down to your shoulder, you’re thankful for the metal grip on your waist or else you’ll be putty on the floor.

“Shit…” You bite your lip and while one of your hands reach behind to the nape of his neck, the other grabs the pulse of his hand which is leisurely playing with your pussy. Not to stop him, but to find some extra support to keep yourself up.

His chuckle reverberates through the skin of your neck, “Right now here’s what we’re going to do.” He drags his lips to your ear again, “I’m gonna make you cum, sweetheart.” Bucky shows his intention by sliding a finger inside you, holding you tightly when your knees buckle, “I’m gonna take the edge off and make you come on my fingers and then we see what comes next for us tonight.” He pulls you to him, pressing your ass to his hardness, “We don’t need to worry or plan anything… we’ll just let it happen, ok? Can you feel how much I want you tonight, sweetheart? Do you want me, too? Do you want me to make you come?” He punctuates every line by dragging his lips over your skin.

His words make you dizzy with a powerful and overwhelming desire burning you up from inside out… you let yourself sink into the pleasure building up inside your body and your answer is to circle your hips against him, in pace with the move of his finger inside you while his thumb plays with your clit.

“Hmm, that’s right… say it, sweetie, I wanna hear you…” He presses his thumb a little harder against your clit.

“Yes, fuck yes.” you cry, between hard breaths, “I want you to make me come… I want it so bad, please...”

He responds to your plea by quickening his strokes. The disappointment when he removes his middle finger from inside quickly vanishes when he focuses on your clit, working on the sensitive nub with the sole mission to make you come. Your core tightens and tightens and you’re a moaning mess in his hold, his hot breath on your neck making you lightheaded. You’re not gonna last long, and you’re torn between the desperate need to come and trying to focus and hold yourself back because it feels so goddamn good you don’t want it to end just yet. The heat of his body crowds you, making the whole world spin around you. As you moan and breathe out your pleasure, his hold and touch ruling your mind and body, the squelching sounds coming from the move of his fingers on your impossibly wet pussy invades your senses.

“Fuck…listen to you, you’re so damn sexy.” He sucks on your pulsing point before brushing his soft tongue over the tender spot, “Come, sweetie, let go… I wanna feel you soaking my fingers even more.”

It all becomes delightfully too much, and a few more expert circles on your clit joined to the sensation of his teeth grasping your earlobe drive you to the edge. Like a puppet on his strings, you come. You’re not quiet when it happens and your whole body shakes with the shocks of pleasure, your thighs shutting on their own will around his hand. Once again he catches you when your body goes limp against his, whispering praising words to your ear. It’s a head to toe orgasm and it’s heaven inside your body. You realize you needed this even more than you knew…

But you need more and you want much more.

As soon as you feel the strength coming back to your legs, you tap his hand off of your underwear and turn around capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. You’ve been thinking about kissing those beautiful lips ever since you first laid your eyes on him that night and he doesn’t disappoint by kissing you back right away just as fiercely, while his hands roam through your body and his tongue seeks yours.

He starts walking you backwards and you take a hand off his neck to point the direction to your bedroom, to where he follows. He groans when you capture his lower lips between your teeth and grabs a handful of your ass. Dying to wrap your legs around him, you jump and he promptly catches you from under your thighs. It’s hard to think about parting your lips from his alluring ones and you don’t stop kissing him until you’re inside your bedroom and he parts from you, throwing you on your bed.

You yelp at the leap, which is far from delicate, and prop yourself on your elbows, watching as he takes off his shirt and tosses it to the side. It’s already a struggle to breathe but your situation worsens when you see his exposed abs and shoulders and arms and fucking muscular chest… You silently thank the heavens for your friendship with Natasha Romanoff. You can’t help but notice the scars by the metal arm, but he doesn’t seem worry in the slightest by having them exposed and fuck you if the attitude doesn’t turn you on even more.

He doesn’t wait long before jumping back on you. Having your skirt bunched up your hips you gladly welcome him between your legs kissing him with the same force from before and wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. He groans when his tongue brushes against yours and you sigh through his lips as he starts rocking his hips against yours. Even through the fabric of his jeans and the lace of your underwear the touch brings sparks to your core as you feel the evident bulge grinding against you.

The cold of his metal hand hikes under the hem of your top, making the little hairs in your body rise on his way. You part from his lips just to pull up your top and throw it aside. You’re not sure how it happens but in a bat of an eye he reaches behind you and with an expert pull, he unfastens your bra. The piece of underwear is all of a sudden out of you, baring your chest for him.

You gasp in awe for his skills and he smirks, “I really needed to see those titties,” he smiles. When his eyes drop to your chest, he inhales sharply, “Fucking gorgeous.”

You’re sure you had something to say back to him, but the room soon fills up only with sounds of your hard breathing as he wraps his warm mouth around a breast sucking on it harshly. While his tongue curls around your nipple his metal hand gives your other breast some attention, massaging it with the perfect amount of roughness.

Your hips buck into his hips, seeking more friction, to release you from the coiling ache in your core. You do what you’ve been wanting to do all night, pulling the tie from his hair and grabbing a handful of his locks as he ravishes your chest.

After taking his time on your breasts, having his fill of sucking, nibbling and grabbing them, he drags his lips up your neck till it stops on your ear, “What do you want? I’ll do whatever you want...” He offers.

You’re still quite a bit distracted by the rock of his hips against yours to fully register what he’s so sultry whispering in your ear, grazing your hands down the burly muscles on his back. He feels so big, so strong in your arms…

“Tell me, sweetheart, tell me what you want.” he purrs into your ear.

When he offers again, his sinful tongue doing wonders on your neck, a thought sweeps into your mind… By experience, you know men don’t enjoy that very much, but Bucky seems willing to please and odds are you won’t see him again after tonight… Yeah, why the hell not… “I-I want you to-to eat me out.” It blurts out of your lips before any kind of self-consciousness strikes your resolve.

The grinding of his hips halts and you’re already bracing yourself to see his disgusted expression when he moves his lips away from your jaw and leans back to stare down at you. But what you see instead makes your stomach flip in the most delicious way. His blue eyes are impossibly dark and his tongue darts out to lick his lips, like he’s about to eat a delicious treat.

After placing his lips on yours briefly, he makes his descent, showering your chest and stomach with warm and wet opened mouth kisses. Your heart beats fast when an up till now unknown sensation invades your chest, making it tingle with excitement and anticipation. He brushes his nose over the lace of the underwear you’ve specially bought for the occasion, right above your mound. Your breath catches in your throat when he places a long and chaste kiss upon it.

He didn’t really seem to care about your brand new underwear as he’s quick to drag it down. You raise your legs to help him out before he tosses it aside, keeping his eyes on your exposed pussy as he gets down from the bed. You gasp when he pulls your legs bringing you close to edge of the mattress as he sinks on his knees on the floor, hooded eyes on your spread pussy right before his face. This is definitely the most exposed you’ve ever been to a man – your boyfriend of ten years included- and it turns you on even more than it should.

You’re aware of how wet you are, and the smell of your arousal is strong enough to fill your own nostrils... You should be embarrassed, you know you should and definitely thought you would be, to be in a situation like that with a man you barely know, but that’s definitely not the case as enticing, aching sparks twirl inside you.

As you fist the sheets on each side of you, the time seems to freeze as you long for what’s to come. He, on the other hand, doesn’t seem worried about time, as he ghosts his fingers on both your inner thighs. The light touches- one cold the other warm- makes you shudder and… ticklish. You bite back a laugh but it doesn’t slip from his attention.

“Tickles, sweetheart?” He chuckles against the soft skin of our inner thigh, causing his voice to reverberate through your skin, not to mention the light scratch of his stubble and you just can’t hold back anymore.

You cover your mouth with both hands as the giggles slip out unbidden. It seems to amuse him while he keeps sliding his fingers and his lips over the little spots, a sweet torment that makes you laugh harder and squirm your legs.

“Plea- Oh, fuck.” Your voice – and the giggles- die in a gasp and your back arches as he engulfs your whole pussy with his mouth with no warning.

The warm sensation is new and overwhelming and your first reflex is to try and pull away from it but he’s faster, wrapping his arms around your thighs, holding you still to his face. He delves his tongue in caressing your most sensitive parts and it feels soft and wet and silky. It tingles and you struggle to breathe as he meticulously swirls his tongue all over your pussy, spreading your juices around you and himself.

“Holy motherfucker,” you cry out and your eyes flutter shut and you once again arch your body because an intense and new pleasure covers every fiber of your pussy and rushes up your spine. Your fists twist the sheets harder as he swiftly laps at you.

“Hummm,” the vibration makes your whole body tremble before Bucky tilts his head to nibble softly at your inner tigh, “You taste fucking amazing,” he adds, placing your legs over his shoulders.

The praise alone is enough to make you clench around nothing and if you thought it was good so far, after he dives in again it’s with a renewed hunger. He sucks and nibbles and properly fucks you with his tongue and lips, keeping you securely attached to his hold. You’re a mess. Your whole body reacts to the sensations, and you’re loud as you moan and gasp and he keeps your hips steady to his hold.

He swirls his tongue around your clit and you’re there. You’re almost there… your head sinks into the mattress and you dig your fingers into your hair, your ribs moving fast unashamedly grinding on his face at the rhythm of your breathing and you’re fucking there-

“What the-?” you groan, propping yourself on your elbows to look down. You see Bucky staring up at you, your arousal glistening on his jaw as he puts on a malicious smirk.

You’re about to protest about the lack of action but your mouth shuts when he sucks his fingers and brings them to tease your entrance before inserting them at once. The sudden intrusion makes your head fall back as you shout out a moan. You prop your feet – or rather your heels which you still have on- on the mattress, letting your knees up as he curls his fingers inside, as if looking for something.

“Oh, shit,” you curse between harsh breaths when he finds the spot he’s been looking for. The sheet bunches in your fists and your head snaps up at him.

He keeps lustful blue eyes on you as he fucks you harshly and fast with his hand, making sure to brush his fingers right on the spot that makes you scream. Your moans fill up the room, mixing up with the squelching sounds of his hand in your pussy. Your eyes shut when it’s there again, that tight knot twisting your insides, the desperate need of release, to soak his hand once again.

“Oh, shit, I’m gonna cum- No!” you shout when he pulls back his hand. You shoot a look that you’re sure is nothing but pitiful at him, but he doesn’t deprive you for long as his lips are on your pussy again, humming at your taste once more.

His skilled tongue goes back on doing wonders coaxing shocks of pleasure in your core, his face deep into your pussy moving up and down, side to side. You can’t take your eyes off of him as he grabs one of your thighs with his metal hand and you grind your hips against his face, trying so desperately to hush your release.

But he’s in the mood to torture you. A sweet and maddening torment as he brings you to the edge and stops, alternating from fucking you with his fingers and then his tongue. At some point, when you’re already surrendered to his power, with his tongue flickering over your throbbing clit, he brings his flesh hand down his body. Since he’s kneeling by the edge of the bed, you have no vision of it, but you listen to the sound of him unbuckling his belt. His tongue doesn’t stop as he brings his finger to your cunt, coating it in your juices before bringing his hand down again.

Your skin burns and all the air isn’t enough to fill up your lungs as you realize by the movements of his arm that he’s touching himself. He’s getting himself off while eating your pussy and you’re sure you’ve never seen or felt anything so hot in your whole life. You just wish you could get a glimpse of his cock.

With everything he’s doing to you and the fact you’ve been on the edge for a while, the addition of the thought of his cock in his hand is more than you can take and this time it comes unannounced. Incoherent sounds you never knew you were able to produce slip out of you as strong spirals of pleasure burst from your pussy, rushing up your spine and down your legs, curling your toes and turning you into a trembling loud mess, completely at mercy of the buzzing ecstasy invading all of your senses.

“Holy fuck!” Your body jerks up with aftershocks of your climax but he’s not having it and keeps you steady to his hold, licking up your sensitive pussy and rushing up his hand on him, “Oh, shit, oh fuck, shit, shit, shit.” Your mind blacks out and you scream unashamedly and your body collapses to the mattress as he drives you to yet another powerful orgasm with his tongue.

From your blurry vision, you spot his arm jerking even faster and he rests his head on your thigh. With eyes closed and biting his sinful lips- coated in your pleasure- he grunts his own release.

You both stay like that for awhile. You sprawled on your bed relishing in your own little paradise while he rests against your thigh, both trying to calm down your breathing. You’re completely spent, the pant up energy in you being drained by the three outstanding orgasms he had given you that night.

You feel your eyes fluttering, fighting against sleep, and in a blur, you see Bucky getting up and moving around, you don’t fully register what he’s doing but you know he gets in and out of the bathroom a few times, seems to clean the floor with toilet paper and fumbles with his clothes. You roll your numb and contented body to the side, seeking a comfort position to enjoy the full state of bliss you’re in.

“Are you alright?” He gets closer to you, bending over the side of your bed he reaches to cup your cheek and hands you a glass of water. You hadn’t even seen when he went to the kitchen. “Did you have fun?”

A lazy but fulfilled smile spreads in your face as you incline yourself just enough to drink from the water, gulping it down to the last drop, “Oh, yeah…I’m fabulous.” Your heavy eyes drop to his jeans to see it fully clothed and his jeans zipped up. You realize you’re incredibly satisfied and didn’t even get to see his cock or actually do anything per se, “Ahm, do you want to-”

“Shhh, don’t worry...I had an amazing time, tonight,” His voice is gentle and soft, grinning back at you.

To be honest, you’re kinda relieved by his answer. You’re so damn relaxed right now you’re not sure you would have the energy to do anything else, no matter how enticing the thought sounds.

“Do you need anything else?” he asks, taking the empty glass from your hand.

You shake your head, still smiling at him.

“Alright, sweetheart...I’m gonna go then. You rest now and whenever you need me, will you call me?”

“Fuck yeah.” You breathe out, collapsing on the bed again, trying to keep your eyes opened.

He chuckles at your quick answer, “It’s a deal?” He leans over your earlobe and bites softly on it, making you shrug and let out a small giggle.

“It’s a deal.” you murmur back, nodding slowly before dozing off with the lazy smile still on your face.

~~~

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fanfiction #toyboy!bucky #smut #it's a deal

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lag1995-fics · 4 years ago

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Hii. Can I request anything with pre- cult Kai and fem reader with a reader that's really happy and bubbly? It could be a fic, headcanonns, literally anything lol. I love your writing 💙💙

Of course you can love, I hope you enjoy this ❤️

Crushing

Pairing: Pre Cult Kai/ bubbly reader

Words: 1506

Warnings: POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNINGS ⚠️⚠️⚠️ This will contain sexual harassment and assault it isn’t graphic but some may feel uncomfy, this fic also features heavy language

Summary: Kai and Reader have both had crushes on each other but have consistently brushed their feelings off they both felt the other was simply unattainable. A bad experience ends up bringing them together.

Masterlist

///::::///

You had always been a bubbly person, the type that usually had a grin spread across her face. You had the biggest crush on your friend Winter’s older brother. You were one hundred percent positive that you were not his type. He was sarcastic and a little mean at times, you were an absolute giggle box who always had a kind word and a smile for almost everyone.

What you didn’t know, was that you were not the only person with a crush. Kai had been mesmerized by the way you floated through life like you had a bubble to protect you from all the grubby thorns that were society. You never caught him but he would stare at you when you came to visit Winter. The entire family loved you actually and Kai’s father would often tease him about you when you were out of the room.

You never expected anything to come out of your silly little crush and neither did Kai for that matter. He had actually put you up on a bit of an unfounded pedestal in his own mind. You were too pure for anyone himself included. He didn’t want to see anyone crush your spirit it was something he loved about you.

Kai couldn’t control the world though, and the world was a dark miserable place that was full of dark miserable people. You were someone who was remarkable though, you seemed untouched by the dark miserable world in his mind. The darkness of the world affects everyone sometimes though and it did eventually catch up to you.

***

You had been walking home from work in the rain, face tilted to sky as the soft drops of water tickled your skin. You hadn’t noticed the strange customer who had been watching you at the coffee shop where you worked. You also hadn’t noticed him follow you out of the shop too busy watching your bright yellow converse splash happily in the puddles on the grubby side walk.

It hadn’t taken him long to act when you had turned onto a fairly deserted road. He had caught up to you and began to walk in step with you. Red flags went up immediately in your head but you as always held out hope that maybe this person was just being friendly.

“Hey baby girl,” his tone was slippery and disgusting. You couldn’t help the trill of fear that went down your spine.

“Hey, please don’t call me that,” you muttered, probably more politely than you should have.

“Oh so you’re a frigid bitch that can’t take a fuckin compliment!” His tone had shifted from slick to intimidating in the span of a few seconds. This man was everything your mother had taught you to fear. You also wished you had started carrying personal protection like Winter had suggested, weapons made you uncomfy though.

“Excuse me I need to get home people are waiting for me” you babbled picking up your pace to try and put distance between himself and you. Before you got very far his large hand reached out wrapping around your forearm with a bruising tightness. You yelped, reaching into your pocket with your free hand to hit your emergency dial.

“I wasn’t done talkin to you bitch don’t think I didn’t notice you ignoring me at the stupid little coffee shop” your fear level was almost maxed out now and you could faintly hear Winter screaming in your pocket from where you had emergency dialed her.

“Please I don’t want any trouble, I haven’t done anything to you,” you tried to reason with the mad man. Before the man could utter another word a car screeched to a halt in the middle of the street.

Kai had been driving down the road on his way back home when he saw a familiar polka dot rain jacket being assaulted by some grubby asshole. He had slammed on his breaks and jerked his old beater of a car into park. He flew out of the car dashing to your side.

“Get. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off. Of. Her.” He hissed as he stepped between you and your assailant. The man released her arm like it shocked him as Kai glared at him with angry brown eyes.

“Sorry man, I didn’t know she had a fuckin boyfriend she should have said something,” the man backpeddaled.

“It shouldn’t matter if a person has a boyfriend or not! No means no asshole!” You shouted the fear draining from you being rapidly replaced by righteous anger.

“If I ever see you again I’ll be the last person you’ll ever see fuck face” Kai spat angling himself rven further infront of you as the man ran off.

As soon as the man was gone Kai spun so that he was facing you. His eyes ran down your body looking for any possible injuries. Water dropped from his wild brown curls as he checked you over. He was careful not to touch you but you weren’t having any of that, you launched yourself into his arms your own wrapping around his surprisingly muscled middle.

“Thank you, you saved my ass,” you mumbled into his soaked t-shirt, happy that the rain was hiding your tear stained cheeks.

“You scared me to death, let’s get you home,” he brushed off your thank you. Like he could let someone try to hurt the only good thing in his world. He guided you to his car that was still parked in the middle of the road with the engine running.

Once you weee safely inside and he was driving again he turned to you. You couldn’t help the heat that filled your cheeks at his pointed gaze. You had never been alone like this with Kai before and it was frankly overwhelming.

“Why were you walking home, I know you have a car?” Kai asked his tone still full of worry. He would personally pay to have your car fixed if it was out of commission.

“I always walk when it’s raining, rain is my favorite” you blushed at how childish it sounded coming from your mouth. He let out an exasperated chuckle.

“Of course you do! Your a living breathing chick flick!” His tone was exasperated but lighthearted in a way.

“Hey! I resent that!” You shot out indignantly, “if I were a living breathing chick flick I would get the guy.”

Kai couldn’t help but look at you like you were dumb his brown eyes scanning your face to make sure you weren’t pulling his leg.

“Y/n you could literally get any dude you wanted, you’re freaking adorable” He sounded stunned that you would think such a thing. You rolled your eyes you didn’t need your best friend’s older brother blowing smoke up your rear.

“Adorable girls don’t get the guy Kai-Kai, hot girls get the guy” you rolled your eyes elbowing him gently. You didn’t know it but you were the only person in the world allowed to call him Kai-Kai. He pulled into your driveway still looking at you like you had grown three heads.

“You’re not serious y/n” Kai asked incredulously running a hand through his wet brown curls.

“Kai-Kai you don’t have to be nice to me just because I’m your sisters best friend” you rolled your eyes, moving to get out of Kai’s car.

“Give me your pinky” his voice sounded strange. Still you flashed him a goofy smile holding out a painted pinky. He linked his pinky with your own his was much larger and warmer.

“You know how a pinky swear works right?” He asked and you nodded still confused on where he was going with this.

“Yeah you can’t break a pinky swear” you replied.

“Well I pinky promise to tell you the brutally honest truth no sugar coating” he declared.

“Okay” you replied still a bit confused.

“Y/n I have wanted you from the moment you opened your mouth and that perfect giggle floated out. You ate everything I’m not. You’re a happy go lucky girl and I’m just some internet troll that enjoys getting a rise outta people,

“You’re way to good for me and I would never even bother to think that you would ever be interested in me. But you gotta stop this self deprecating bullshit. You are the most beautiful human I know inside and out” he ranted and you could only stare at him in shock, floored by his revelation.

“You like me?” You questioned your voice soft and squeaky.

“Hell yeah! How could anyone not like you y/n?” He too sounded surprised.

You unlatched your pinkies trying not to overthink what you were going to do next. You stared into Kai’s piercing brown eyes gathering your non existent courage. You leaned forward pushing forward with your hands on his console. Your lips connected in a searing kiss his lips scorched your own as he kissed you back with a fierceness, his hand burying itself in the back of your hair.

Sorry this took so long I was exhausted and time got away from me ❤️❤️❤️. Much love and thanks for reading.

#pre cult Kai #evan peters #kai x reader #kai anderson x reader #protective Kai Anderson #kai #kai anderson #kai x reade #kai angst #pre-cult Kai Anderson #reader insert #ahs fanfiction #ahs cult

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avengers-age-of-fanfics · 4 years ago

Text

just for you, honeybee (6/?)

pairing: steve rogers x reader (platonic), natasha romanoff x reader (platonic), bruce banner x reader (y/n is a big fan of his), tony stark x reader, bucky barnes x reader

warnings: mention of bucky, fighting, training, mention of guns, takes place during The Avengers

words: 3,359

a/n: part 6! i honestly don't know how long this series will be, but i think i may end it at either endgame or TFATWS. so basically going through all the movies lmao, but skipping over a few. i just want honeybee and bucky to be happy but gotta add some angst.

Transitioning into a new world, the year of 2011, was no easy feat, and you appreciated Director Fury being somewhat patient and honest about how much has changed. Him, and apparently one of your biggest ‘fans,’ Phil Coulson, have been the most helpful with your adjustment, teaching you all about the new technology and supplying you with a new phone, courtesy of S.H.I.E.L.D.

However, along the way, were a few speedbumps. You and Steve trained consistently in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s gym, almost leaving no room for sleep or taking proper care of yourselves. You both knew it was terrible, you should be looking out for one another, but the loss and confusion overran your needs to live a normal life. However, over time, he seemed to adjust better than you, as expected. Even though Steve had only been awake a few months before you, he jumped right back into the new world.

For you and Steve, the both of you had seen Bucky a few weeks ago; you had seen Steve a few minutes ago, from the time you had woken up. To everyone else in the world, including Steve, however, that was history, a moment written in textbooks ages ago; and for Captain Rogers, that moment was months ago.

In your mind, you deserved to release your anger out on some punching bags.

It had taken Director Fury and Agent Coulson a while until they shared the news to you and Steve, that Peggy was alive. They had claimed that since they found Steve, high hopes were in store for finding you, hence saving off on telling him beforehand. Steve had immediately wanted to see her but you hesitated; what would Peggy say to the both of you? How would she react to you both being alive? No matter, Steve had begged you to come along to visit Peg and you caved, giving him some time with her before he called you in.

Peggy’s eyes lit up, “y/n, you’re alive! Sweetheart…”

You smiled, pulling up a chair next to her, “hey, Peggy. How’s the strongest woman alive doin’?”

She sighed, grasping your hand, “better…much better. Howard never stopped looking for you, the both of you. He’d be so happy to see you.”

You sucked in a breath as her eyes turned glossy, “we know, Pegs. We know.”

She held back her tears as she continued, “he had a son, Anthony; just as stubborn but smart as Howard. You’d love him.”

Steve chuckled, “sounds like a handful.”

Peggy laughed before falling into a coughing fit, turning away for a few seconds. After regaining her breath, she turned towards you and Steve, “Steve! Y/N! You – you’re both alive; you came back!”

Steve gave a sad smile as your face fell, “yeah, Peggy, we did…”

Steve’s eyes teared up, “I couldn’t leave my best girl; not when she owes me a dance.”

Over time, the visits to Peggy became too much and you needed to rest. So, with little convincing to Director Fury, you found yourself in a small cabin in Bozeman, Montana, with frequent visits by both Coulson and your new female friend, Natasha Romanoff. At first, you hated the idea of someone visiting you during your time to reflect, but once you realized that she wanted to help you train and become used to your super serum abilities, you appreciated the company.

You barely had any time to adjust to your newfound strength, among other things, and you slowly became grateful that Natasha had joined you over the course of a few months. Sure, sometimes she was so nosy and bossy, waking you up in the ungodly hours of the morning to train, but she had slowly become one of your closest friends.

Honestly, some days it felt as if you just met Natasha the day before:

You stood in Fury’s office, arms crossed, as he stood adjacent to you, Coulson awkwardly standing beside him. “Why are you sending a babysitter to a place where I am supposed to be, oh, I don’t know, relaxing? Reflecting?”

Director Fury grumbled for the umpteenth time, “because, Agent L/N, you never know when the day will come where we will need you and Rogers, along with your special abilities. You are unskilled in hand-in-hand combat, among other areas in defense, and it’d be nice to enhance our agents.”

You uncrossed your arms, still very pissed off, “I don’t want them to visit me every day. That’s my one condition. I need time, Nick; I feel like I haven’t properly…taken everything in. I just want time to myself.”

Phil spoke up beside Fury, “and we respect that, Y/N, we truly do. But we hope you also see where we are coming from. Natasha Romanoff is very skilled in her profession and understands your situation – you’re in good hands.”

“Phil, you’re making me blush,” a female monotonous voice spoke.

Whipping your head around, you were met with a beautiful redhead who definitely seemed like an Agent, someone who meant all business. You’d learn later on that was just a façade.

“I- Y/N L/N, you must be Agent Romanoff,” you said, holding out your hand.

Natasha grinned, shaking your hand in hers, “just call me Nat, Agent sounds too formal. I look forward to seeing what that super soldier serum truly did to you.”

Apparently, not too much as she continuously kicked your ass in combat.

Training with Natasha was, well, with your lack of combat, embarrassing. You had your ass handed to you so many times, it was a bit pathetic – but she always told you that you were improving. You used your heightened senses to your advantage, listening to her footsteps and figuring out what move she intended to use next. You hesitated to use your strength at first, but with continued training, you knew Nat could handle it.

With Nat, you also became very skilled in shooting handguns, rifles, the whole nine. Your aim was impeccable and target training was becoming a breeze. The thought of shooting someone terrified you at first, but when Nat reminded you that hesitation could get you killed, you understood – there was no room for mistakes.

During your stay in Montana, you kept in touch with Steve, but only through short texts. He was not thrilled with you leaving him, but he understood where you were coming from; you needed to mourn but also keep busy, careful to not fall into a dark abyss. Fury kept you updated, telling you that he had pushed himself into training continuously and visiting Peggy all he could. You knew seeing Peg was doing Steve no good whatsoever, and your heart ached...but at least he got to see his long love.

Nat had been there when Bucky’s birthday passed, holding you as you cried, unable to leave your bed the day of and a few after. She held you as you yelled at the sky for taking away the most important person in your life, leaving you so alone. She knew you had Steve, but it wasn’t the same – you needed Bucky. But she also knew by letting you cry, your emotions out of your body, you’d feel so much more at peace.

And she was right.

Natasha also told you about Howard's son, Anthony, and from what you saw on the news, that was definitely Howard's kid. Tony was arrogant, self-absorbed, but did what he thought was right. After his declaration of being Iron Man, you followed Tony all over the internet, but hearing first hand from Natasha of the man that Tony was...Howard would be proud. You wished to meet him, you did, but something pulled at your heart, telling you that Tony probably hated you for taking his dad from him, forcing Howard to become obsessed with finding you and Steve and thus, costing him his life.

Natasha told you he might see you in that light, yes, but if you ever got to know Tony, he'd warm up.

You weren’t healed and you still weren’t okay, but you were…better. You hated whatever being there was in the sky for taking your James, but you came to terms with it. But the one thing you were so resentful about was the fact that there was no body, no funeral for him.

Becca hated that, too.

You had visited her in her old age, just like Peggy, and the two of you held hands as you talked about James and Steve – your boys. She had missed you so much, just like she missed Jamie, and she understood your pain the best. She had tried to encourage a search party for him, to have some closure, but the government refused. He was gone, and they couldn’t send more men to find a disfigured body.

You hated thinking about that, what James would look like. It haunted you in your nightmares, waking you up in the wee hours of the morning, his frostbitten body staring right back at you. Phil had found you a morning after such nightmare, sitting on your porch in nothing but an oversized shirt and a blanket around your shoulders, cheeks wet with fresh tears.

You sniffled once more, wiping your nose with the back of your hand, watching as a black car parked into your dirt driveway. The car opened and Phil Coulson emerged, as expected - on time for your monthly visits. Hugging onto the blanket tighter, you shivered against the cold air, hoping Phil would just leave upon noticing your state.

He did the exact opposite.

Phil took off his jacket, resting it upon your shoulders even though you had the blanket. You sniffled, inhaling his scent, and hugged the jacket closer, feeling Phil take a seat next to you on your wooden bench.

"I always found snow to be soft, almost like a cloud, falling down upon it when James and I would make snow angels," you began. A shiver ran down your spine as you continued, "but now, I can't help but think of his body just...plopping onto the ground so roughly that he was hurting, still alive, yelling out for anyone and..."

Phil ran his hand over your head, brushing your hair back, "freezing."

You glanced to Phil, "freezing to...to death. He must've been so scared, I-"

Phil shushed you as the tears formed, "no what if's, y/n. He's safe now - that's what matters most. You're okay, and so is he."

Your bottom lip trembled as you held onto the dog tags, nodding to Phil's words, "you're right, as always."

Phil gave a tight smile, "let's go inside and heat up some milk, 'm getting tired myself." Coulson held your hand for the rest of the night.

Trying to convince yourself to get some closure, you told yourself that the next time you were in Washington D.C., you’d visit the museum and read all about Bucky, all that he had done, and see the amazed looks of citizens who saw him as a hero. Your James Barnes was a hero to so many people, including yourself, and you should be able to celebrate his goodness from when he was alive.

You were going to go the next day until Director Fury knocked on your door at 2:30 in the morning, holding a file labeled “CLASSIFIED.”

You raised an eyebrow, “couldn’t have given me this at a decent time?”

He narrowed his good eye, “it’s urgent, didn’t have time for formalities, your highness.”

With a snort, you grabbed the folder from his hands, “glad you know how to properly address me. What time do we leave?”

Fury tilted his head toward the quinjet, directing your eyes toward Steve who stood alongside Natasha, “once you get dressed, Agent. You’ll have time to look over the file in the jet.”

You weren’t sure why you got dressed so fast; seeing Steve for the first time in about 6 months, finally going on a mission, or just getting some new sense of scenery. Either way, you engulfed Steve in a hug and he laid a hand on the back of your head, “hey, honeybee.”

Your heart ached whenever he called you that, but you figured it was one of the last things he could hold onto Bucky as his dog tags laid against your chest, “hey, Stevie. So, what’s the deal?”

Reading over the file while Nat gave more information about Clint – someone else who you had grown quite close to – you grew confused. You looked to Steve, “the Tesseract. That’s the blue cube that…disintegrated Schmidt, right?”

Steve nodded, “looks like Howard recovered it and it’s been in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s hands since, but this guy, Loki, wants something to do with it – Hydra’s secret weapon.”

Fury spoke up from the front of the jet, “that scepter he has, it controls the minds of anyone it touches, including one of my sharpest agents. The Tesseract could be the key to unlimited sustainable energy – that’s something the world sorely needs. Falls into the wrong hands, well…”

You shook your head, “you shoulda left it in the ocean.”

Silence overtook the quinjet until Phil came over to your seat, sitting beside you, “I’d like you to come along to recruit another member, if you don’t mind.”

You gave a small smile to Phil, “um, yeah, that’s fine. Where we goin’ and who are we recruiting, Coulson?”

Phil seemed a bit nervous as he spared a glance to Nat, who nodded her head, “Tony Stark, Iron Man.”

You sucked in a breath, “Howard’s son? You want me to come along?”

Phil laid his own hand upon yours that rested in your lap, file forgotten about, “I do, and I hope you wouldn’t mind tagging along.”

Holding back your tears, you nodded, “yeah, yeah, I’ll come. When do we leave?”

“Once we land in D.C., we’ll take a quick trip to New York. Easy car ride.”

You squinted your eyes, “isn’t that like, a 6-hour drive?”

Phil gave an uneasy smile, “not with me driving, we’ll be there in 2.”

You chuckled, “as long as I get there alive, I don’t really care how we get there.”

In all honesty, the drive to Stark Tower was relatively calm, save for swerving through traffic and going way too fast for your liking. Once you arrived, you and Phil talked to the impressive AI named JARVIS who told you both that he was informing Mr. Stark of your arrival.

“Impressive Artificial Intelligence,” you whispered to Phil, “definitely Howard's kid.”

Phil was about to respond until JARVIS spoke up, “Mr. Stark is not in, Agent Coulson.”

Your friend pursed his lips together, “please tell Tony that this is urgent and we need to speak. Now.”

Very quickly, Tony ignored your calls until Phil hacked into the system, overriding JARVIS and his protocols. Phil spoke into the phone, pulling you inside the elevator, “Mr. Stark, we need to talk.”

Tony sighed on the other line, “you have reached the life model decoy of Tony Stark. Please leave a message.”

Phil rolled his eyes, causing you to let out a snort, along with Pepper Potts on the other line, “this is urgent, Tony.”

You and Phil stood in the elevator, about to reach his floor as Tony responded, “then leave it urgently.” Right on cue, the elevator doors opened and Tony held up his glass of champagne, “security breach, it’s on you.”

Tony’s eyes glanced over your figure as you stood beside Phil, Pepper getting up from the floor to greet him, “Phil! Come in. I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met yet, Miss?”

You smiled at Pepper, meeting her halfway and shaking her hand, “Agent Y/N L/N, Miss Potts.”

Tony stood beside Pepper, “the infamous Miss America, Cap’s sidekick. How’s S.H.I.E.L.D. treating you? Always annoying you with something, barging in without your knowledge, telling you that you've been asleep for 70 years?”

Phil spoke for you, “I’m afraid we can’t stay. We need you to look this over as soon as possible.”

Tony shook his head, “I don’t like being handed things.”

You let out a chuckle as Pepper took the folder, “that’s fine, because I love to be handed things. So, let’s trade.” With a quick switch of hands, Pepper gave Tony the folder as she handed Phil the glass of champagne, “thank you. Anything for you, Y/N?”

You shook your head, “no thank you, Miss Potts.”

You took a moment to look Tony over. Peggy was not kidding – he looked exactly like Howard, and certainly acted like him, too. They had the same eyes, the same face, and the same attitude; it was almost like looking at a clone of Howard. Your eyes filled with unshed tears but you pushed them back, taking a small breath as Phil continued, “this is not a consultation.”

Pepper’s eyes grew wide, “is this about the Avengers? Which I know nothing about.” She looked guilty once the words slipped.

Tony sighed as he walked away, opening up the folder and looking through it quickly, “the Avengers initiative was scrapped, I thought – and I didn’t even qualify.”

Pepper shrugged, “I didn’t know that, either.”

Tony continued, “apparently I’m volatile, self-obsessed, don’t play well with others.”

You mumbled, “kind of like Howard.” Tony pointed his finger towards you as he nodded, “and she speaks of him!”

Pepper nodded her head, “that I did know,” ignoring his comment towards you.

Phil shifted his weight, “this isn’t about personality profiles anymore.”

Tony grunted, “whatever. Ms. Potts, got a second?”

As the two were talking, screens were lit up of you, Steve, and others fighting, and you stumbled back with a slight gasp, still new to the whole holographic stuff of technology. Phil turned towards you, asking you if you were okay with a look, and you nodded. Pepper looked towards you both and back to Tony, whispering, “maybe while working on this, you can get to know her. Get to know your dad. I’ll take the jet to D.C. tonight. You have homework – a lot of homework.”

The two kissed before Pepper headed your way, “so, any chance you two are driving by LaGuardia?”

Phil nodded, “I can drop you.” Pepper smiled, “fantastic!”

The two began to walk towards the elevator as you looked on at Tony who held a holographic Tesseract in his hand. In that moment, your brain convinced yourself that was Howard, your Howie.

Tony turned towards you, “you joining them or you just gonna stare?”

You took a step back, a frown on your face as you mumbled an apology, meeting Pepper and Phil in the elevator. Pepper turned your way as the doors closed, “I’m sorry about him. When it comes to his dad and you, he gets a bit…”

You finished her sentence, “jealous. He missed out on a lot and I can imagine Howard spent too much time talking about me or Steve instead of him. I understand.”

Pepper gave a tight smile.

In a few short hours, you, Phil, Steve, and a few other S.H.I.E.L.D agents were on your way to the helicarrier, something that only a few of you knew about. You sat next to Steve, looking over Dr. Bruce Banner’s files, examining videos of him as Hulk, and how he was trying to recreate the super soldier serum. You had known about Dr. Banner and honestly, had become one of his fans – when he was in his human form, of course. His works on nuclear physics and gamma radiation greatly interested you and upon reading many of his published articles, you had completely forgotten about his condition. Having the opportunity to meet him in person was certainly one of your dreams and you just knew Bucky was making fun of you for being such a dork.

Phil stood up from his seat, walking towards you and Steve, leaning above you both. Steve looked to Phil, “this Dr. Banner was trying to replicate the serum they used on me?”

Phil nodded, “after Howard Stark’s death in 1991, Dr. Banner made it his mission to replicate it. A lot of people were. You – you both – were the world’s first superheroes. Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine’s original formula.”

Steve looked uneasy, “didn’t really go his way, did it?”

Phil shifted his weight as he looked towards you, then to Steve, “not so much. When he’s not that thing, though,” you interrupted him with a glare, “sorry, the Hulk, the guy’s like a Stephen Hawking.”

Steve looked to you, confusion written on his face. You shrugged, “a really smart person.”

Silence enveloped the three of you until you nodded to Phil, urging him to continue. Phil seemed all giddy, “I gotta say, it’s an honor to meet you officially. I’ve sort of met you, I mean, I watched you while you were sleeping.”

You snorted as Steve nervously smiled at Phil, covering your face as he continued, “I mean, I was present while you were unconscious from the ice.” Steve stood up as you continued laughing, making his way to the front of the jet, “you know, it’s just a huge honor to have you on board this.”

You followed Phil, clapping him on the back as Steve overlooked the ocean, “thank you for that, Phil, truly.”

Steve elbowed you as he mumbled, “I hope we’re the people for the job.”

Phil’s eyes lit up, “oh, you are – you both are, absolutely! We, uh, made some modifications to your suits, by the way.”

You glanced towards Phil – now this was what you missed.

honeybee taglist:

@clownerlyluv

@ginger-swag-rapunzel

@starkleila

@intothesoul

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shroomcult · 4 years ago

Link

Hey folks!

Here’s my Day 1 post for Soma Week 2021. Tooth-rotting fluff towards the end - please enjoy. ^-^

@soulxmakaweek

Maka awoke with an audible groan, first registering the lack of her weapon’s familiar soul wavelength in the room before anything else. Whether she was disappointed or grateful of his absence was difficult to determine in her hazy mindstate.

Soul had been fussing over her for the past day, and while his concern for her comfort was endearing - his mother hen routine got old fast.

His over-attentive behavior was at least understandable. He had little to do cooped up in their hotel room, and ended up alternating between watching cooking shows at a considerately low volume, pacing around what little square footage they had, and laying in his bed beside hers tapping out the rhythm to whatever was blaring from his headphones. He was sure to pester her about how she was feeling at least every 20 minutes and his restlessness had been grinding on her last nerve before she fell into a fitful sleep.

If she had to hear “you okay?” or “need anything?” one more time, she was liable to snap and throw the closest object to her directly at his dumb, fluffy head. Not that he actually deserved it.

If she were being honest with herself, she was mostly frustrated with the situation itself - not Soul.

Well, maybe she was a little frustrated with Soul.

He may have been outwardly kind towards her in her predicament, but she could feel something else beneath the surface of that. She was well-versed in the subtle language of Soul’s facial expressions after all.

He was dying to tease her, and while she commended him for keeping his mouth blessedly shut about the humor in her suffering - she knew it amused him at least a little bit.

Because despite the fact that they had been sent to the bustling beach-side city of Recife, Brazil to take down a particularly cunning and repulsive kishin - she was not stuck in bed over any kind of work-related injury inflicted during their battle with the corrupted beast.

There was no glory or dignity that could be gained from the current state of her weakness. She had not received her injuries from a tense and thrilling battle, but instead from being negligent in her application of sunscreen before falling asleep splayed out on a beach towel under the unforgiving afternoon sun.

Soul had even recommended that she apply sunscreen a second time for her “hella pasty” skin and she responded to his comment in kind by throwing the sunscreen bottle at him with impressive accuracy and force.

Now she was bedridden with what was likely sun poisoning and had a complexion comparable to a hot dog.

Perhaps she should have taken Soul’s advice after all.

She also may have reached her last straw with Soul’s smothering behavior earlier and said something along the lines of “please get the hell out of here and give me at least an hour of peace,” before taking her rather unsatisfying nap.

That certainly explained his absence.

She let out a heavy sigh before deciding she would deal with the pain of moving so that she could re-apply aloe vera for the twentieth time that day. Only this was the first time she would be doing it without Soul’s assistance.

It was difficult to reach most areas of her back without him. She was certainly flexible enough to do it on her own, but the pain that came with stretching her arms was something she would prefer to avoid experiencing if possible.

She started on lathering her arms and chest area first, grounding herself in the way it stung yet soothed at the same time.

She only got through a small portion of her back before the combination of fatigue, nausea, and pain convinced her to give it a rest.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just figure out where Soul was. She didn’t need him or anything. She was just checking in - making sure he didn’t get himself into any trouble while she was asleep.

She made an awkward hobble across the room to retrieve her phone, careful to avoid bending her scorched appendages on the way there.

It only took a ring and a half for Soul to pick up her call, and she cursed herself for the way her entire body relaxed a little at the sound of his voice.

“Hey. Everything alright?”

He had that pleasant gravelly quality to his voice that usually indicated he either just woke up or he had a few drinks.

“I’m fine, Soul. I just woke up, actually. What have you been up to?” she’d tried to sound casual, but the hitch in her voice when she tried to lower herself back on to the bed betrayed her. The soft cotton sheets felt like they may as well have been a brillo pad against her sensitive flesh.

“Just givin’ you space like you asked. Found a neat little place to drink just down the road from us. To be honest with you, I think it might be a swinger bar or somethin’ - everyone here is middle aged and horny as hell.”

Maka felt a twinge of irritation at that last comment. Was he really off flirting with a bunch of Brazillian cougars while she was stuck in bed?

“S’not like I’m interested, but they keep buyin’ me drinks anyway. I don’t speak very good Portuguese and they seem to think that’s pretty sexy of me,” he added with a throaty chuckle that raised goosebumps across her skin.

“Why don’t you just stay there all night then! I could care less what you do!!”

She felt a bit childish for her outburst, but blamed it on Soul’s innate ability to push every last button she has in very few words.

“If you don’t care, then why’d ya call me in the first place?” She could just tell that his lip was curling into a smirk by his voice alone. Oh, he is so lucky he’s not in book-throwing distance.

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead in a ditch somewhere,” she murmured with only a little bit of edge left in her.

“Oh yeah? That all?”

“.... Also, I guess you can come back to the hotel room.”

“Sorry? Can you speak up a little?”

“I said you can come back to the hotel room! Don’t make me say it again or you can sleep on the streets!”

He responded with an amused snort, “Oh, that’s very gracious of you. What a loving and benevolent meister I have.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t fall in a ditch on your way here.”

“Love ya too, Maka. Be there in a few.”

With that the phone call cut off, and she was left staring at the ceiling and feeling an overwhelming warmth in her face.

She decided to blame that on the sunburn rather than her weapon’s comment.

It only took about 20 minutes before she heard the click of the hotel door as it swung open, her partner poking his head in first and flashing her a shark-toothed smile before he kicked the door open the rest of the way. He was carrying an entire pack of drinks under his arm and a plastic CVS bag in the other.

“Stopped by CVS round the corner. Dunno if you’ll like ‘em, but I got these weird electrolyte drinks. S’posed to help hydrate you better or something,” he said as he plopped down at the end of the bed, emptying the contents of the plastic bag.

“Also got you some ibuprofen, more aloe, and a couple snack things. I know you said you weren’t hungry, but you should really try and eat at least a little bit.”

Maka only nodded, slightly overwhelmed by how caring he was being despite her recently sour attitude.

He tilted his head to the side for a moment, regarding her with gentle eyes before he got up and sat closer to her on the bed, being especially careful not to let his legs touch hers.

He slowly placed the back of his hand against her forehead muttering something about a fever, but she was too focused on his close proximity to her to even register what he was saying. He smelled of beer and limes and sunscreen.

His skin was a perfect bronze color, and he was showing off a lot more of it than he usually did. He was clad only in swim trunks, slider sandals, and a loose-hanging tank top that the top of his scar peeked out of.

He had been out in the sun just as long as she had, napping right beside her even, and yet his skin only tanned; never burned. The lucky bastard.

He used the same hand he’d checked her forehead with to brush back a few stray hairs from her face. “Sleep okay?” he asked in a hushed tone, as if he were worried his voice would bother her.

“I slept okay, I guess. Not much else I can do right now anyways.”

He nodded and gave a sympathetic click of his tongue, running his hand through her hair a few times before reaching for the aloe on the nightstand.

“Need me to get your back?”

She ignored his question, opting to rub the short-cropped silver whiskers covering his jaw with her palm.

“You need to shave.”

He rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated huff, squeezing the tube of aloe into his palms and rubbing them together.

“I’ll just take that as a yes and pretend you think I’m roguishly handsome.”

That earned him a laugh from her that clipped short when he placed his hands softly on her back. It only hurt for the first brief moment of contact, but she soon hummed her approval as the stinging sensation in her back felt dulled and soothed wherever his hands caressed her.

He was talented with his hands - knew just the right amount of pressure to give and take at each moment. She really had needed this. Trying to reach that spot between her shoulder blades on her own had been a nightmare.

Minutes passed with only the sounds of their breath and Soul’s practiced hands over her skin. It should have been awkward, but it wasn’t. Everything was just easy with him.

“Hey, Soul?”

He acknowledged her with a noncommittal grunt.

“Thank you. I know I haven’t exactly been pleasant lately, but I really do appreciate all of your help.”

She wanted to say more, it felt as though she hadn’t really expressed to him how much he means to her, but Soul wasn’t one for flowery words and declarations of love. She knew that was enough of a thanks for him.

“You don’t gotta thank me for all that, Maka. We’re partners, this is what we do for each other.”

“Right,” she whispered, a faint smile gracing her lips.

“All done,” he announced, “you gonna hang tight and read for a bit?”

“No - I’d like to, but I just feel too tired and nauseous to focus on anything like that right now. Maybe I’ll just try to take another nap.”

Without a word, he sauntered over to the book she had brought - a period-piece romance novel that he would make fun of at the first given opportunity. After it was in his grasp, he collapsed on his back right next to her. He really did kind of reek of beer, but she didn’t have the heart to push him away.

Once he found her bookmarked spot, he started from the top of the page with a hardy clear of his throat, reading the lead male love interest’s lines in the most posh and ridiculous accent she could have imagined.

She immediately burst into an uncontrollable fit of giggles and snorts, which only encouraged him to continue, smiling from ear to ear as he did.

She nearly ran out of breath when he began reading the female heroine’s dialogue in a shrill voice that sounded more like an old British nanny than a pretty young woman.

He continued this entertainment for an admirable hour and a half before he had to admit that his vocal cords were defeated from the strain of ‘fancy British lady voice.’

By the time he had put the book aside, she had a hand curled around his bicep and her face was buried in his neck.

He’d said he was watching TV, but he fell asleep within 10 minutes of setting her book down much like an old man.

Her skin felt dry and tight, a feeling she was easily able to ignore while Soul was reading for her. She was aware that she’d need to get up soon to re-apply aloe, or she’d regret it later. Yet, it was so difficult to move away from him.

He was breathing deeply, and he smelled less like a bar and more like a beach the closer she was to him. He always looked so peaceful when he slept too. He looked young, like he didn’t carry the exhaustion that he usually does.

Despite the calm, collected demeanor he always tried to hold around others - he carried a lot of weight on his shoulders from pretending to be the person that other people need him to be. From taking the load off other people’s backs, he only strained himself and she felt this tiredness from it all that seeped into the very cracks of his soul.

She wished he didn’t have to try so hard all the time. She wished he could let himself be taken care of for once.

“I know you told me before that I don��t need to thank you. That the things you do for me are what I should expect from a partner, but you really are more than that to me, Soul,” she’d only whispered this into the crook of his neck, but she lifted her head up just to check that he was still unconscious.

He appeared serene, his breathing steady and not a crinkle in his face to indicate her words had disturbed him from his slumber.

“You can always depend on me too. I’d love to take care of you the way you take care of me. You deserve that - you know that, right?”

Not even a twitch.

She sighed, not expecting him to respond in the first place, but a little disappointed she hadn’t had the courage to tell him this while he was awake. She assumed it safe that he was in a deep sleep and began threading her fingers through his thick tufts of hair sticking up from his forehead.

“I know that when you say you love me, you’re talking about as a partner, as a friend. Well, I love you too. I love you a lot, Soul. I’m always afraid to say it back ... because it would carry a different weight when I say it. It’s like I’m afraid you’d just know.”

His breath hitched for a moment and her heart nearly jumped into her throat.

He only readjusted slightly, pressing his cheek against the top of her head and making a small sound akin to a whimper before his breathing evened out again.

She let out the shaky breath she had been holding and turned her head ever so slightly to press a soft kiss to his throat, where she could feel the warmth of his pulse.

“I hope we stay partners for a really long time.”

#SoMaWeek2021 #SoulxMakaweek #soul evans #maka albarn #soul eater

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general-kenobi357 · 4 years ago

Text

Someday Soon-Chapter 4

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!OC

Summary: Secrets start to create more tension within the Pogues, even more so when Kooks start to get involved.

Word Count: 3.1k

🔅🔆🔅

There's a moment in every kid's life when you feel like anything's possible. When you feel like you've got the total mojo. You could, I don't know, free-climb El Capitan, land on Mars, or, uh... get elected president. The whole world's there for the taking if you've got the sack to go for it.

And then, when you least expect it, some Kook shows up and tells you there's no eternal mystery. And then all that talk about free-climbing and Mars and the president... bullshit.

Magic gets cancer and dies.

“It's not there. Look, just... just pull the drone up.” John B instructed Pope. We had searched all over the ocean floor and found nothing but the figure head that used to stand at the bow of the ship.

“Shit.” I muttered, the storm was picking up as the thunder grew louder and the lightning closer to where we were, I entered the cabin where JJ was still trying to hold the boat steady. We hadn’t spoken more than five words to each other since him and Pope had picked me up the day before, I figured it was time. “You need any help?”

“Nah, but if you have 400 mil lying around, I’d be happy to take it off your hands.” He joked, bringing a smile to my face before a comfortable silence fell over us and we continued to listen to the rest of the Pogues outside.

“Look, we can do another pass. Recharge the battery.” Pope suggested. “We can... we can go back down.”

“We've done it three times. There's nothing there.” JJ spoke up competing with the loud wind.

“Shut up! The gold could be buried. We don't know.” Kie reasoned, still hopeful.

“If it was there, it would've been found on the metal detector, okay? Somebody beat us to it.” John B told her.

“Or it was never there.” I mumbled. The more we searched the more the stories started to sound impossible.

With the thunder rumbling we all pitched in to bring in the drone before JJ drove us back to the dock.

🔅🔆🔅

After we got back onto dry land the group all parted ways, promising to see each other later on that evening.

Once I got back to my house I changed into some dry clothes before making my way into the main room to see my mom sitting on the couch, I could hear Emmy in her room playing.

“Hey Hon.” My mom spoke up, setting down the book she was reading. “Where have you been all morning?”

“Oh we took Heyward’s boat out, trying to catch some fish. JJ’s cousin told him you can get spearfish out in the open water.”

“Did you catch anything?”

“No the storm picked up, we had to head back in.”

“Well that’s too bad. Maybe next time.”

“Yeah, maybe next time.” And even though my mom didn’t know what we had really been looking for, her words gave me a little hope, maybe we could still find something.

“Hey, are you and your friends going out later?” She asked after a few minutes.

“Um, I don’t know. Kie was talking about taking us to an outdoor movie over on Figure Eight.”

“Oh you used to love those as a kid, do you think they would be okay if Emmy tagged along?”

“I can ask. Kie was going to pick us all up in a little bit.”

“Thank you. I just don’t want her to miss out on everything you got to do when we still lived over there.”

“I know.” I replied with a smile. Ever since we had moved to the cut and Emmy was born, she had been trying to give us everything she possibly could.

🔅🔆🔅

A few hours later I was in my room when I heard a horn outside. Quickly I got up grabbing the bag I had packed before going to find Emmy. She had moved to the porch as the day progressed and the house got hotter.

“Em, you ready to go?” I asked her.

“Yep!” She said standing up. “Wait I have to go say bye to Mommy.”

I watched her run back into the house, before I followed behind her.

“Have fun you two.” Mom told us as she pulled Emmy into a hug. “Don’t forget bug spray, and not too many candies alright?”

“Okay Mommy.” Emmy said nodding her head.

“Here.” Mom said standing up and passing me a couple of bills. “It should be enough for tickets and a treat for each of you.”

“Thank you.” I told her, folding the bills to fit in my pocket. I knew it wasn’t enough for all that, but it would be enough for tickets and I had some tip money from yesterday to buy Emmy a treat.

“Have fun you two!” She called as we went to meet Kie who was waiting by the road.

“Hey.” I greeted as we approached her car. “Is it alright if Emmy tags along.”

“Yeah of course.” Kie said smiling, I had a sneaking suspicion that my friends might have preferred her to me most days.

“Okay Em, get in the back.” I instructed opening the door for her. “Are we picking up the boys?” I asked.

“Yeah they're our next stop.” Kie told me from the front.

“You gotta sit in the middle seat.” I told Emmy, before buckling her seat belt.

“I don’t want to sit with the boys.” Emmy whined. “They smell bad.”

“They don’t smell bad.” I tried to defend the boys who weren't there to defend themselves, as I got into the front.

“Well…” Kie trailed off defending Emmy’s point. We all laughed as she pulled out of our driveway and down the road to JJ’s house.

As we pulled up, the two boys were waiting by the curb for us, Pope looked scared while JJ looked as if he were preparing for something. They greeted us all as they climbed into the backseat and before long we were en route to Figure Eight.

“Are you guys sure you want to go to this thing?” Pope asked about halfway into the drive.

“What?” I asked turning to look at him. “You love these movies.”

“Well maybe we’re just not feeling it today.” JJ defended Pope’s statement.

“What is up with you two?” I asked, I couldn’t help but wonder if it had to do with whatever had happened yesterday.

“Yeah, what is up with you two?” Em asked, parroting what I had just said. It was one of her current favorite things to do, after she heard me taunting John B the same way a couple months ago.

Her comment was enough to break the tension that had been building in the car, as it brought a smile to all our faces.

“Don’t worry Princess, we’re just bein’ weirdos.” JJ told Emmy, using the nickname he had started using a while ago when she had joined us all for a boat ride and declared herself the Princess of the water.

🔅🔆🔅

“I'm so glad that they're still doing this.” Kie told us as we gathered all the stuff we had brought from her trunk. “Keep calm. Carry on. Back to OBX life. You know? Aren't you glad I made you come?”

“Ecstatic.” Pope replied in a monotone voice.

“My couch was pretty comfy, I'll be honest.” JJ added.

“Okay, Em? I’m gonna go with Kie to get your treat okay? What do you want?” I asked, setting down my bag.

“Um…” She thought, putting a hand on the side of her head. “Popcorn!”

“Okay.” I replied with a smile, moving to where Kie was waiting. “JJ can help you put out your blanket okay?” I told her before I turned to look at JJ, he gave me a thumbs up as I began to follow Kie to the concession.

“Hey, uh... can I get two Pepsis, please? Oh and a popcorn?” Kie asked the guy behind the counter.

“Oh I can buy Emmy’s food.” I told her, feeling a little guilty.

“No, don’t worry about it, did you want anything?” She asked, pushing away my hand which held a few bills.

“No, I’m good thanks.” I replied, as we waited for our order.

“Hey, Kie.” I heard Rafe Cameron call out from behind us.

“Hey.” Kie responded uncomfortably.

“What's up? How are you?” He asked, it seemed like he only noticed her. But it didn’t surprise me, I was generally looked at as the help.

“I'm fine.”

“Good, good. Um… Tell your boy that we know what he did.”

“Sorry, what boy are you talking about?” I finally asked.

“Uh, he'll know.” He told us. “Bye.”

“Douche.” Kie muttered as Rafe walked away. “What was that about?”

“I have no idea.” I told her truthfully as we made our way back over to the boys and Emmy. “Nobody will tell me anything.”

“Just saw Rafe, and he said, and I quote, <Tell your boy that we know what he did.> What is that?” Kie asked as I sat down between Emmy and JJ, handing her the bag of popcorn.

“Um… Where is he?” JJ asked nervously looking around.

“Right there.” I told him pointing behind us as we all turned.

“Great, the whole death squad.” Pope muttered.

“Don't stare, bro.” JJ warned turning around. “If they corner me, I'm coming out swinging, okay? Slice and dicin'. I'm on edge right now.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Pope confirmed, with every word they exchanged I was more confused.

“If that doesn't work, I got this right here.” JJ reassured Pope pointing to his bag, I was no longer confused, now I was just pissed of knowing exactly what he was referring to. How could he be that dumb.

“Yeah, yeah. So, we just gotta stay in the group. They can't get us in the group. Like a school of fish. Stay in the school. Can't leave the school.” Pope started rambling.

“I'm sorry, stay in school? Please tell me that you did not bring a gun here.” Kie asked, looking at the pair.

“JJ, there are kids. Emmy is here.” I reminded him.

“Sweetheart, I didn't bring the gun. Everything's fine, okay?” He told me with an unconvincing smile.

“Wow, thank you. That's really convincing. I love that, JJ.” I said, knowing he was lying.

“Founding principle, you guys. No secrets amongst Pogues.” Kie reminded them, which made me laugh bitterly. I was pretty sure everything Pope and JJ had said to me since yesterday had been lies. “What is Rafe talking about?”

“Kie, it might go down tonight.” Pope told her.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“<Might go down tonight.> What did y'all do?” Kie demanded.

“Deny, deny, deny.” I heard JJ mutter to Pope. Shaking my head at Kie before I turned to look at Emmy, who sat blissfully unaware as she enjoyed her popcorn.

🔅🔆🔅

About halfway into the movie I heard the boys whispering to each other. Before they both stood up.

“Hey, where are y'all going?” Kie asked as they began to walk away.

“We gotta wring it out.” JJ responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You gonna hold it for each other?” She criticized them as they left.

The pair had been gone for a few minutes when out of the corner of my eye I saw three Kooks head in the same direction JJ and Pope had gone. Glancing at Emmy to make sure she stayed put I shuffled closer to Kie.

“I think somethings wrong.” I whispered in her ear. “Three Kooks just headed off to where JJ and Pope went.”

“They’ll be fine, they have the gun, Rafe wouldn’t try anything here.”

“The gun is still in JJ’s bag.” I informed Kie, holding up his backpack.

“Shit.” She muttered, taking the bag from my grasp. “You stay with Emmy I’ll go make sure they get this.”

I moved back beside Emmy as I watched Kie walk away.

“Where is everyone going?” Emmy asked, curiously.

“Nowhere don’t worry, just watch the movie.” I told her, unable to take my own advice.

A few more minutes past as I sat thinking the worst had happened to my friends, until suddenly the bottom of the screen lit up on fire. The crowd began to scatter as more of the screen was engulfed in flames.

“Fuck.” I muttered under my breath, trying to decide what to do. “Okay come here.” I told Emmy picking her up, I knew I couldn’t leave her here alone but I wasn’t sure what I was about to walk into. “Close your eyes okay? Don’t open them until I say so.” I told her as I walked over to where I had seen all my friends go.

As I walked around behind the movie screen which had now been reduced to ashes, I could see Rafe and his goons running off and in front of me Pope, Kie and JJ were all laying on the grass. But I could see them all moving.

“Oh, thank you.” I mumbled, not entirely sure who I was thanking. Pope and Kie were sitting beside each other so I made my way over to JJ with Emmy still in my arms. With my free hand I helped him before pulling him into a hug.

“You’re squishing me!” Emmy called out from between us.

“Sorry Em.” I apologized, letting go of JJ and setting her down. “It’s okay, you can open your eyes.” I told her noticing that her eyes were still squeezed shut.

“Are you okay JJ?” Emmy asked, her voice quiet.

“Of course I am Princess.” He reassured her, scoping her up. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Izzie was swearing and I was worried when you and Pope left.” Emmy explained, ratting me out in the process.

“Iz, swearing in front of the Princess?” JJ asked, feigning a look of shock before he went back to talking to Emmy. “Come on let’s go get your stuff.”

I let out a sigh of relief before I followed the group back to where all of our stuff had been left. As I packed up my bag I heard JJ explaining to Emmy that it was all just a game that they were playing and that she didn’t have to worry about any of it. All I could do was hope she wouldn’t tell my Mom.

🔅🔆🔅

After dropping off the boys, Kie drove me and Emmy home. The drive was silent partially due to the fact that Emmy was passed out in the back seat and partially due to the fact that neither of us wanted to talk about what had just happened.

Once we had arrived I grabbed my bag before getting Emmy from the back seat. Kie unrolled the window to wave goodbye to me.

“Thank you.” I said to Kie with a smile. “For everything.”

“Of course, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She replied, waving as I made my way to the front door.

It wasn’t until I had closed the door behind me that I heard the tires of Kie’s car drive off. My Mom was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea reading by a candle when we got inside. I quickly went and put Emmy into her bed before I joined her.

“You two are home earlier than I thought, wasn’t it a double feature?” She asked me.

“Yeah, um some kids messed with the screen and they couldn’t play the second movie.” I explained, pulling her into a tight hug.

“You okay?” She asked concern laced through her words.

“Yeah I just missed you.” I said, pulling away.

“Okay.” She said not sounding entirely convinced.

“Goodnight.” I said before I walked out of the kitchen and into my room.

“Goodnight!” She called as I closed my door.

🔅🔆🔅

The next day the Pogues-minus John B, who no one had heard from-were gathered at Heyward’s discussing the events of last night.

“Don't let it get in your head. Three of them and two of us.” JJ reassured Pope, who was still on edge. “That's typical Kook shit right there.”

“Hey, Pope, someone here to see you.” Heyward interrupted, Deputy Shoupe trailing behind him.

“Evening, Officer.” Pope said, suddenly seeming even more on edge than before.

“I have an arrest warrant for felony destruction of property.” Shoupe told him blatantly. “Hands where I can see 'em.” He instructed beginning to cuff Pope. “Young lady, out of my way.” He said pushing past Kie as we all followed him outside.

“Whoa. Shoupe, what'd he do?” Heyward said, confused.

“Look at the warrant.”

“You're arresting him? You're just arresting my boy?”

“Be careful!” Kie shouted as Shoupe continued to read Pope his rights.

All of our voices seemed to mix together as I tried to figure out what was going on.

“It wasn't him!” JJ yelled over all of us, everyone else fell silent. “It was me. He tried to talk me out of it, but I was mad because he'd just been beaten up. I was so sick of those assholes from Figure Eight that I lost my shit. I can't let you take the blame for somethin' I did. You've got too much to lose.”

“JJ, what are you doing?” Pope asked and all of the sudden I realized what was going on and what they had been keeping from me.

“I'm tellin' the truth.” JJ explained, he was staring at me as if he wanted to say something more. “For once in my goddamn life, I'm gonna tell the truth. I took his old man's boat, too.”

“JJ, come on.” Pope tried to stop him.

“Just shut up, Pope!” JJ shouted. “Just shut up. He's a good kid. You know where I'm from.”

“Yeah.” Shoupe agreed.

“This was all me.”

“That's the whole truth?”

“Whole truth, swear to God.”

“I know what you think, damn it, I'm asking Pope.”

“Yeah, that about covers it.” Pope stated, as JJ nodded at him.

Shoupe sighed before uncuffing Pope and putting JJ into his car. I could hear Pope cursing from behind me as Kie and Heyward tried to calm him down. But all I could do was watch as the cop car drove off leaving me standing in the street, tears streaming down my face. Realizing I hadn’t even said goodbye.

🔅🔆🔅

#outerbanks #outer banks #jj maybank #jj obx #obx #jj x oc #jj maybank x oc #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader

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normal-thoughts-official · 4 years ago

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I don’t really get the prevailing fandom opinion that malec are bad at communication. I mean, sure they are shown acting on their insecurities and flaws which is honesty how people work, and sometimes the situation was larger than their relationship. But like they still talk even when it’s difficult and doesn’t work immediately and always make sure they are there for each other.

i think it depends a little bit? for alec i think he's pretty great at communication. he's always very willing to talk, very clear about what he means and feels and thinks, and just generally i can't think of any stance where he failed at communicating tbh. like even in s1 he made his feelings and the way he viewed things very clear. the one thing i can think of is him going to talk to asmodeus without talking to magnus first and leading to that whole forced break up drama, which i guess could be interpreted as lack of communication, but i think it was more him being like... dumb lmao

i mean not dumb that's not fair but alec is a fixer and he has a tendency to act like he alone is supposed to solve ppl's problems, especially ppl he loves' problems. so he went to talk to asmodeus himself without actually sitting magnus down and trying to think of a solution TOGETHER, and i guess that's lack of communication, but i think it's less because they miscommunicated and more because alec wanted to be the one to fix things and make it better for magnus, he wanted to shield him from having to fix this himself when it was clearly eating him away. it wasn't a problem in communication, it was a choice. a terrible choice, but still

other than that we got him lying about the soul sword but that was also just a terrible choice, not a miscommunication thing lmao. and then we have alec being consistently great at communication. he tries to initiate conversations, even difficult ones, when he knows magnus isn't alright; he does the same as much as possible for himself, although again he has that tendency to want to solve his own problems. he is always very clear about how he feels and what he thinks, to the point of being blunt or too straightforward and even too fast or intense (not that magnus minds, on the contrary). he's big on love declarations, reassurance, initiating conversations... i don't think it could be argued that this is something alec is not good at in the show

magnus is a different story. he's good at communicating some things, like his talk with alec after the suicide attempt, that was on point. or in the s2 breakup, he was pretty clear about what he was feeling and thinking and his reasons. but then it comes to communicating his own feelings and insecurities, and we gotta be real: my man fucking sucks

he's always trying to hide it when he's sad or upset or dealing with something difficult, and then either he explodes or alec has to make him say it, which is... not good daojhsdoaj. and leads to stuff like the breakdown after he lost his magic. lying to alec about being happy he lost his HWoB position. not wanting to tell alec about his flashbacks or his past or even who his fucking father was. never really expressing any of his insecurities, telling him as little as possible whenever a conversation was inevitable... the list goes on. i mean, again, this wasn't really miscommunication as much as it was a very, very bad choice to hide stuff from alec, but at the end of the day it does mean he's not communicating what he feels to his partner and that. is bad lmao

and look i'm not saying magnus is terrible or whatever cuz i've been talking all day today about how that is 100% a result of his abuse and trauma, so like doahdsjoaidja. it's something he struggles with and that he does because it's really, really difficult for him, and he's working on it. but he's still not communicating, and, because alec is always so clear about it, he trusts that magnus is telling him the truth when he asks. which is what he's supposed to do. so that does lead to some communication issues, so i can kiinda see where the fandom comes from in that stance, because there are a lot of moments where magnus is simply not opening up about how he feels and alec is either in the dark or having to figure out how to make him say it

other than that, though, i don't really see particular problems with the way they communicate as a couple? i think they are always willing to have talks even when it's difficult, and (again, apart from magnus hiding his problems) they don't really shy away from issues in their relationship. they are always there for each other. and we didn't ever really get misunderstandings drama like "magnus said x but alec understood y" (or vice-versa). when they actually sat down to talk and magnus wasn't downplaying his own situation, they were always on the same page. and when they did sit down to talk, they were always very mature about it, even the few times that they were straight up fighting (which we didn't even get a lot of. which is something i like. like yeah people fight but if they are actually willing to listen to each other and work things out they talk a lot more than they fight. i don't remember the last time i had a straight up fight with a friend or partner, even when i was angry). so i don't think they are bad at communication as a couple. magnus is bad at communication when it comes to being honest about his own problems and feelings. that's basically it for me

#ask #anonymous #idk how to tag this lol #long post #sh #meta #malec meta #i suppose

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syifrae · 4 years ago

Text

Through his stomach

@winteriron-week

Day 3 “But I did it”

Read on AO3

Tony had a secret admirer. Not only that, but he had the world’s best secret admirer because this secret admirer was seducing him via food.

It had started a few months back when Tony had returned from a particularly stressful day at work, fielding calls and actually attending meetings (I mean, he had to go to some otherwise Pepper would literally strangle him). Tony felt tired and hungry and his feet hurt and his head ached and there was just a general aura of blegh all around him.

He had just about managed to drag himself through a shower and into some comfy pants but the thought of having to make food was just overwhelming. He lay in his bed for what felt like hours arguing with himself about the pros and cons of getting up to make something. Of course, he could just order food but for some preternatural reason any time anyone was ordering takeout in the tower Clint found out. This was not necessarily a bad thing, but on occasion, it could result in heavy debating over what to order and half your food disappearing into the apparently bottomless void that was the archer’s stomach.

Right now, though, Tony just really wasn’t in the mood for any kind of human interaction. He loved his teammates, don’t get him wrong, they had become his pseudo-family and he would, at any time, lay down his life for any one of them, but right at this second, he couldn’t stand the thought of having to interact with them.

He knew it was a cruel thought to have, but on the one hand, he’d have to pull up a front that he was fine -which would take a hell of a lot of effort given the facial expression and body language skills of some of his teammates- or let them see how…blegh he was feeling. Neither option seemed appealing to him. One would drain him of all remaining energy and the other would result in (well-intentioned) questions about his mental and emotional state, which again would drain him of all remaining energy.

Just as he was thinking he could risk calling in for pizza and hope against hope that the resident vent mole wouldn’t notice, he heard the ding of the elevator. Tony sighed. How on earth had Clint known he was thinking about pizza? That shit was unnatural and vaguely disturbing.

Only he didn’t hear footsteps, instead, there was the familiar whirr of gears and excitable beeps from his favourite (but don’t tell the others) bot. Sure enough, his bedroom door was pushed open and in trundled DUM-E, carefully carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of something on it.

The smell wafted through the room as Tony scooched up the bed to accept the tray off of the bot.

“Uhh, J?” he began hoping his AI would know what he meant. How is DUM-E up here? Why does he have a bowl of what looks like soup with a side of charcuterie and garlic bread with him? Did DUM-E make it himself? If so, how? Was it safe to eat?

Luckily for him, he had the best AI in the world (if he does say so himself-which he does) and JARVIS somehow knows all his questions and answered them so succinctly.

“Someone who wishes to remain anonymous has prepared a dinner for you and asked DUM-E to deliver it as you appeared fatigued. It is a courgette and almond soup with garlic ciabatta and sourdough toast, assorted cured meats and a mango chutney. It has been safely prepared and monitored on it’s journey, and does not contain motor oil.”

Tony breathed in deeply at the exquisite smell coming from his dinner tray. This was the perfect ending to a low-grade-shitty day. Once everything JARVIS had said was fully registered in his mind he quirked his head in question.

“Someone who wishes to remain anonymous?” he mused, “Well, I mean it’s gotta be someone living in the tower, right? That narrows it down. Plus, it’s gotta be someone who can cook,” That thought leads him to an ever-diminishing list of suspects and he rather thinks he knows who it is.

Tony ducks his head, a dusting of pink colouring his cheeks at the thought. He digs into his gifted meal with gusto, suddenly it seemed like the weight of the day had simply rolled off of him, and he had regained some of his earlier energy. If the person who he thought it was wanted to stay in the shadows for now who was he to put a stop to it? Especially when it might cost him more nights like these with a delivery of home-cooked ambrosia.

And so it had continued.

Not only when Tony had had a bad day either, but almost every other day it seemed he had some new delivery of food. Be it a sandwich left by his elbow to remind him to eat during his workshop binge, a cooked meal when he had had a long day, a tray of cookies, cakes or brownies left on the counter in his penthouse, a selection of petit fours delivered to his office as it seemed just-because. And sometimes they even came with little post-it notes!

They weren’t much to go on, just little ‘thinking of you’s or ‘hope you enjoy’s or ‘looked like you needed this doll’s. With each delivery, Tony’s crush deepened until he was halfway in love with his ‘secret’ admirer, despite the fact that they both seemed to reluctant to acknowledge any of it in public or around the team.

However, Tony was only so patient- ask Pepper or Rhodey, it was a miracle he’d lasted this long in the first place- and he was now determined to… Well not exactly confront, that felt too aggressive a word to use, he was going to gently but firmly (very firmly) encourage his admirer to go on a real date with him. It felt like it might be a bit premature to declare his undying love and devotion to a man he wasn’t technically in a relationship with after all.

This idea however all came clattering down around him when he entered the kitchen at around three am exactly three months and four-day post initial food delivery. He hadn’t even realised anyone else was awake, he hadn’t meant to even be on this floor but JARVIS was a tattletale and would ping an email to Pepper if the coffee machine in his penthouse or workshop was used between 11 pm and 6 am.

It was just dumb luck.

Or unluck as the case may be. Because there in the kitchen, pulling a tray of very familiar looking and smelling chocolate orange and hazelnut cookies out of the oven, was Steve.

It was the wrong one. All this time Tony had believed that Bucky had been his admirer, his personal chef and his culinary hero. All this while, and if he was honest with himself for a long time before that, Tony had been slowly but surely falling in love with their resident one-armed-wonder, and given that he was 87% sure that that was who was making the food he was fairly confident that feeling had been mutual. To learn that all this time it had been the wrong supersoldier was devastating.

Tony felt like the bottom had dropped out of him and his heart had dried up all at once. Not only was he wildly, catastrophically wrong about who had been delivering him all these preciously prepared and lovingly made gifts, it also meant that he was wrong about Bucky reciprocating his feelings.

Not only that, but he now had to confront the idea that it was Steve, not Bucky, who cared for him and how the fuck was he supposed to let Captain America down? I mean yeah they had moved past their first meeting hiccup, gotten over their brief subsequent future hate/resentment/hero worship issues and had become the closest of friends. Or at least, that’s what Tony had assumed. And while his inner sixteen-year-old was very much still attracted to the pinnacle of human perfection, Tony just could not see Steve in that way. Objectively yes, he was handsome and kind, down-to-earth, generous to a fault and stubborn as a mule when it suited him, but to Tony that was just Steve.

Steve was great! Steve was an amazing friend! He’d be happy to talk up Steve as a wingman and be confident that nothing he would say would be a lie because Steve was just that awesome a person! But he was not attracted to Steve himself!

Continuing his approach to the kitchen Tony tried to mentally prepare what he was going to say. How he was going to gently thank Steve for his gifts but let him know that any feelings he had were purely platonic. He was mentally debating if he could get away with not telling Steve that he didn’t know it was him who had been the one behind the culinary delights. On the one hand, it would make him look like an utter dick for letting it go on this long without letting Steve know it was a doomed seduction. On the other hand, it seemed cruel to tell Steve that he was hoping that the man’s best friend (practically his brother) would go out with him instead. Knowing Steve, he’d be extremely supportive and then not show anyone how he was devastated and dying inside.

“Hey Steve, I didn’t realise you were up so late,” He began, coward that he was trying to put off the uncomfortable conversation that was to come.

Steve looked up from the sheet pan where he had been carefully inspecting the cookies, a look of surprise on his face showing that he’d been so concentrated on his task he hadn’t picked up on Tony’s approach. And wow, seeing how dedicated he was just made Tony feel worse about the whole thing.

“Oh, hi Tony,” the other man glanced down spying the coffee cup clutched in the inventor’s hands, “You know that cheating by getting your coffee down here only means that Pepper will be madder when I’m the one to tell her.” He teased.

And god did Tony feel like the world’s biggest tool again, even when Steve was being mean it was just because he cared. Why did it have to be the wrong supersoldier? Why was his life like this?

“Listen, Steve.” Bracing himself for what was coming Tony stepped further into the light of the kitchen, making sure to give the other man 100% of his attention, it was the least he deserved. “I think we need to talk. I am so grateful, really I am, for all that you have done. They were some of the finest and most delicious things I’ve ever tasted in my life, and that comes from a guy who regularly eats at Five Michelin Star restaurants. The deliveries have been a source of joy and comfort, they have never failed to lift my spirits and I have adored each and every one. I want you to know that I will always care very deeply for you,”

Steve had an odd look on his face as Tony tried his best to be brave and plough on, it wasn’t fair to let this go on any longer and he had to get it all off his chest in one go or else he’d put his foot in it.

“I don’t know that I could ever see you in that way. What I feel for you is more of a platonic bond, and a lifelong one at that, but there could never really be any romantic feelings on my part.”

Steve looked downright confused and embarrassed now.

“Uh, Tony that’s great?” He replied, head tilted in that lost puppy look he sometimes had when he couldn’t quite get his head around something. “I’m not entirely sure where all of that came from but uh, I love you too buddy.” Steve patted Tony on the shoulder, looking for all the world like Tony had lost his mind.

“Look Steve, the secret is out alright, I know those are the cookies you made me the other week. I can recognise them well enough, they are just about the tastiest goddamn things I’ve ever put in my mouth and I’ve dreamt of them twice since. I know it’s you who’s been making me food, and I just wanted to let you down eas-”

“But I did it.”

The voice came from behind, cutting through Tony’s very messy 'it’s not you, it’s me' speech, nearly scaring the life out of him and causing Tony to jump about three feet in the air and clutch at his chest as though that would slow the rapid staccato of his heart.

“Wha?” was all that the dumbstruck genius could eke out.

“I’m the one who’s been making you food, doll. It was me, not Stevie here.” Bucky replied from where he was stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

“But- he… I just saw Steve taking the cookies out of the oven? He was even checking them over to make sure they were right?” Tony blurted, head pinging over to Steve as he heard the man huff out a laugh.

“Yeah, cause Buck here hadda go pee and the last time he put me in charge of getting his shit out the oven I got a whooping because smooshed a cookie with the glove. I ain’t making that mistake twice.”

It took Tony a second for everything to sink in. He had a moment post reshuffle in his brain of who had done what that he was mistaken after all. It wasn’t the wrong supersoldier.

“So, wait. Does that mean that you’ve been my secret admirer? Not Steve?”

“Yeah, doll,” Bucky said, shifting his weight and loosely crossing his arms in front of him as if to protect himself. “You mean all that you said about it being good?”

Tony had never heard, nor expected to hear such uncertainty from the other man. Carefully making his way over to Bucky and making sure to telegraph his movements as he did so, Tony lifted his hand to cup Bucky’s cheek.

“I meant every word. And I’m so glad it was you.”

The smile that Tony could feel growing on his own face was mirrored back to him. Flickering his gaze between Bucky’s ocean eyes and his lips he slowly tilted forward, allowing Bucky to decide if he wanted to close the gap or not.

Tony’s heartbeat fluttered as he felt the soft press of lips against his. Something in his chest settling at the feeling of how right this all was. Steve on the other hand was apparently feeling indignant.

“Hey, wait a minute! How come I’m not good enough but this lug is?”

#WinterIron Week #winteriron week 2020 #winteriron #my writing #day 3 #i wrote this at 5 am so let me know if it's full of mistakes #I don't even know what i'm doing anymore #lol #¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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slashedthroughtheheart · 4 years ago

Text

The boy behind the wall Pt. 2

She managed to quietly close the door to the basement she’d found, and slowly snuck her way back to the kitchen, putting her long forgotten empty glass in the sink and made her way to the front door just as it opened with a very vexed looking Mrs. Thompson at it. “Oh, there you are. Your fath-uncle is here.” She didn’t dwell on the slip up, and Layla didn’t point it out in any way either.

“I was just coming to check if it was him. Guess I lost track of time daydreaming and dozed off. Sorry about that!” She did her best to hide behind a sheepish smile, hoping that her lie was good enough and any face she might be pulling would be easily chalked up to embarrassment at ‘falling asleep’ at the kitchen table.

Mrs. Thompson seemed to readily accept this answer, shaking her head briskly. “No matter, but you better get a move on, your uncle seems to have places he wants to be, since he’s still got the truck running.”

And with that, she moved to the side and Layla scampered past her, stomach doing flip flops as she brushed by the older woman.

She felt cold inside, trying to figure out how anyone could treat someone else like that.

They didn’t stay long after she left the house, having bound down the steps as well as she could, making her way over to the passenger side of the truck her uncle was in, leaning towards his window, talking with Mr. Thompson.

They said their goodbyes, and her uncle reversed before heading off their property.

He asked how it was helping out around the farm, and she gave a non-committal shrug. His eyebrow quirked at this.

She knew her uncle to be a kind man, he loved his wife, loved his younger brother who was her father. It was a shame that they had gotten a nice big ranch with a big house only to find out he and his wife just couldn’t have children. They loved kids though, and loved her unequivocally.

So upon seeing his usually very talkative niece being aloof set off a warning bell in him, like the tornado warnings. It wasn’t right.

Before he could probe about the shift, she asked her own question.

“Do the Thompson’s have any children?”

At this he pauses, his first response was going to be no before an almost forgotten image of seeing Mrs. Thompson round with child popped into his head from a time long ago when he’d ran into her in town. She’d been so happy back then.

The Thompson’s were never the same after she lost the child during birth.

It was a very hush hush topic, never brought up in polite company, and not talked about except behind closed doors.

He made a low noise in his throat. “Well, not exactly. They were supposed to, but years and years ago they lost the baby she was going to have. It was tragic, and they’ve not been the same since, especially not Evelyn. She went from being happy and full of life to having a very… uh… tight lipped way of dealing with anyone.” He glanced over at her from the side before returning his attention back to the road.

“Did they… did she do something to you that made you ask that?” He had a feeling of dread in his stomach, hands gripping the steering wheel hard enough for his knuckles to turn white.

With the change in her demeanor paired with the odd question, he couldn’t shake the bad feeling taking root at the base of his skull screaming danger.

She looked at her hands clasped together in her lap for a long moment, almost long enough for him to prompt her once again, but she beat him to it once more.

“How long ago did they loose their baby?”

At this he really had to think. He tracked back in his memory as they were pulling up to the ranch. “Well, I think you were born just a year after it happened. I remember having that small fear of ‘what if?’ in the back of my mind when your father told me about your mother expecting so soon after it happened. So 19 years ago?” He ventured a guess, before turning to look at his niece now that the truck had come to a stop and the engine had been cut.

“Did something happen over there, little one?” He had a deep frown on his face, but the touch he used on her shoulder was light. He was concerned.

She worried at her bottom lip for a moment, before turning back to him, deciding to trust her uncle. He liked children, and he couldn’t have his own and that must hurt him so very deeply. So maybe, maybe if she told him the truth, he’d be willing to help her free the boy.

“I think they’re keeping their son locked up in the basement. I don’t think they lost him at all.”

He removed his hand for just a moment in shock at her words, not having expected the conversation to take this turn.

“You think… wait, why do you think any of this of the Thompson’s?” He sounded skeptical, but he also knew his niece was not one prone to lying or over exaggeration. In fact, his niece tended to downplay the seriousness of most things, especially her discomfort. She wasn’t one to inconvenience others.

So this kind of declaration from her was shocking, but he couldn’t immediately rule it out.

A small flash of worry crossed her face, before she seemed to take a moment to collect herself. He watched her hands tighten in her lap before she turned to face him fully, a very grave expression on her face.

“Because… I saw him. He’s kept in the basement behind a crude brick wall with just a single brick not in place where he can see out of. He looked… different. Like his face was smooshed up from something. Kind of like how a blood hound looks different from a german shepherd dog, but for people. His eyes have this… like.. extra skin around them. It looks rather painful, honestly. He can’t talk, but he understood me talking to him. I asked him questions uncle Andrew, and he said… well more like grunted in a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ way. He said he lives there with the Thompson’s, but he didn’t seem happy about that. And that he can’t leave the room! It’s awful!”

She had run away with the conversation, passion filling her voice now. She was almost breathless after explaining everything to him.

He took a moment, and looked real hard at her, trying to tell if she was pulling some sick joke or if she was being actually honest. And when she didn’t waver under his intense gaze, but instead switched to an almost pleading tone, he realized she was telling the truth.

“He couldn’t have been much older than me, so it fits. He’s gotta be the baby from back then. And they… they locked him up because he was different. I don’t know if he’s ever even been out of that room before. He didn’t even know what a hug was, I had to explain it to him. And he looked so sad after I explained it. He’s never been hugged before, I just know it. They’re being awful to him just because of the way he looks, even though they’re his parents and supposed to love him, all of him, unconditionally. He’s just… he’s just a kid, their kid. He shoulda gotten hugs…”

As she went on, trying to impart upon him the sincerity and the urgency, she wasn’t able to hold back the emotions she’d been tamping down for the better part of the day. Her voice cracked at the end, and the tears she’d held back in the basement resurfaced with a vengeance.

A very small and broken “I couldn’t imagine papa never hugging me… or teaching me how to read… or loving me.” And at that last bit she burst into sobs, the big tears rolling down her face as she hugged herself tightly, rocking softly.

Her heart was aching, but not for herself. For the boy locked in a basement, unwanted by those who were supposed to take care for him.

“It’s not right… he’s alone…” she barely managed to get those words out through her choking sobs, her mind too young to emotionally handle something of this gravity without breaking down a little.

He didn’t doubt his niece, not after seeing how broken she looked and sounded. He did scoot over, drawing her up in a hug and rubbing her back and shushing her softly, trying to get her to calm down. Doing his best to soothe her.

“Shhh shhh, little one. It’s alright, it’ll be alright. We’ll look into it, okay? We’ll figure it out, it’ll all be okay.” He didn’t want to make any promises about this supposed boy, but the story was plausible. He just didn’t want to promise anything in case the situation wasn’t as it seemed.

But she shook her head. “We need to get him out of there. I promised him, and even if I hadn’t… you can’t… he can’t just stay locked up in a basement. It’s not right, uncle Andrew. He was crying when I had to leave, I can’t… I can’t leave him there. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let him stay down there to-to… to just wallow alone.”

Her tears hadn’t stopped, but her sobs had lessened. She still sounded like she was crying, even while talking.

He pulled a grimace, but nodded. No one deserved to be locked in a basement with no contact from anyone. That was just cruel. And if it did turn out to be the long thought dead Thompson boy, then it was an even worse situation.

He finally nodded, his mouth still in a grim line. “If he’s down there with no way out, we’ll get him out, okay? That’s all I can promise. But we gotta be smart about this. Do the Thompson’s know you found him?” He turned to face her, still holding her in a reassuring way, but wanting to make sure she knew it was important to go about this the right way.

Shaking her head, she sat up straighter, hands going to wipe at her tear stained face before responding verbally. “N-no. Mrs. Thompson thinks I fell asleep at the kitchen table while she gardened.”

He took a breath, trying to think if that was believable enough or not, but then remembered that everyone knew his niece he took in for the summer was of frail constitution and tired easily. So it was entirely plausible.

“Alright, well you can’t go back right away, we have to think this through. So for now, no wandering around, you’ll stay at the house, alright?”

At this she seemed to resist the idea for a moment, before nodding. “I’m just worried about him. I trust you, but how are we going to check on him and get him out?”

Quiet fills the truck as they both sit in anxiety while turning over different ideas in their own minds. He breaks the silence first.

"Well, I think the easiest way is to get the law involved. I've known Dale since I moved here, him and Irene went to school together. He's good people. We can have him come out and check in on them." He seemed sure this was the best course of action, but Layla worried at her bottom lip.

"What if... what if that makes things worse? Like, if they hide him or hurt him?" She had only ever read about things like this. And even then, they weren't quite like this situation. The stories she'd read were detective novels. Ones where once the police closed in and the bad guy had nowhere to go, they lost it and hurt the person they were stalking or had kidnapped. It never ended well.

He gave a low hum at what she brought up, it was a fair thing to be worried about. "I could have him over soon, invite him early in the day and we could tell him what happened. Make sure he's gonna be on our side, and then when we go over to check, it'll be me and him together. They won't be able to hurt him if both of us are there little one. We'll make sure he stays safe, alright?"

She contemplated this for a moment, anxiety eating at her. She wanted to say no, that she didn't want him to be in danger, but she also knew he was an adult who knew what he was doing. Had been an adult far longer than she had been, having only just turned 18 at the end of winter.

A shaky sigh passed her lips before she nodded. "Alright. When can we have Mr. Dale over? I don't... I'm not gonna sleep well until we get that poor boy out of there." Her voice had started out strong, but trailed off, barely above a whisper by the end of it.

Shifting to rub soothing circles on her back, he looked out the windshield. "Well, we oughta tell Irene all this, run our plan by her. She's the brains, after all." A soft, affectionate chuckle left him at the joke.

With a bit lighter hearts, the two of them got out of the truck and made their way inside to run their plan by aunt Irene. Layla had hope that aunt Irene might have a better idea than involving the police or putting uncle Andrew in harms way.

#Max Thompson Jr x Original Character #Max Thompson Jr #Dead by Daylight fluff #Dead by Daylight #fluff #hurt/comfort #canon-typical child abuse #angst with a happy ending #eventual smut #nsft

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hippityhoppitygetofmyproperty · 5 years ago

Text

My Heart Skips a Beat

Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil

Ships: LAMP

Trigger Warnings: Unnamed heart condition, Improper medical stuff, Hospitals, Talk of death, Surgery mention, Food mention, Crying (I think that’s it, let me know if I need to add any!)

Genre: Hurt / Comfort

Word Count: 2032

Universe: Human AU

Ao3 link

This is based off of an outline that I saw that I wanted to flesh out. I cannot re-find that outline to give proper credit so please let me know If you know what outline I’m talking about! Anyways, hope you enjoy whatever this turned out to be!

(edit: The outline belongs to @teacupfulofstarshine, give some love to this beautiful person!)

--------------------

When they first started a relationship together, they knew about Patton.

Patton had a heart condition since birth that limits what he can do. But, since he’s had the condition since birth, he knew his limits. His family hoped he knew his limits after passing out and getting rushed to the hospital in middle school. He always told his close friends about it, mainly so they don’t push him too far.

Luckily, his 3 closest friends became his boyfriends.

They would always worry if he was okay, Virgil worrying the most. Whenever he would start to get a little dizzy doing something, Virgil would start asking questions making sure he was okay, Roman would scoop him up princess style and find the nearest seat, and Logan would start checking over him. That didn’t happen very often though, Patton wouldn’t let them worry that much.

Until it did start happening more. It turned from rarely ever to almost weekly, while doing small things like their evening strolls that didn’t bother him before. They were wall worried about him, Patton was worried about himself. Now, he was standing at the kitchen counter booking an appointment with his doctor.

“Does Friday work for you?” The kind lady on the phone asked.

“Yes, that sounds perfect.” He replied, his tone somehow even despite how scared he was.

“Alright, we’ll see you then. Have a nice day, Mr.Baker.”

“You too.” He hung up the phone and released the breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Why must this happen? He has a good family, he has his boyfriends, why must his heart ruin it? It was then he felt a pair of arms snake around his waist.

“How are you doing, love?” Came Logan’s voice from behind.

“I’m fine, I’m just nervous.” He said as he gave way into the hug, the contact being a nice comfort while he dealt with this situation.

“We all are, to be honest.” His grip tightened on Patton. “Hey, Roman and Virgil are laying out blankets so we can have a movie session.”

“That sounds great.”

Logan led Patton into the living room, where Virgil was fluffing pillows and Roman was shuffling through the Disney movies. Virgil caught sight of Patton and got up to help guide him towards the pull-out couch. He rolled his eyes and giggled slightly over his boyfriends’ concerned antics, but still allowed Virgil to help. Not long after they got Patton situated, Roman let out a small triumphant cry while holding up a movie case and moved over to the DVD player, letting Winnie the Pooh start-up on the screen, then went over to join the cuddle pile on the pull-out couch.

It was nice.

---

They wouldn’t let Patton go to his appointment alone, thought the doctors made them wait outside. They thought it was because of the testing, but it was really because Patton didn’t want them immediately in there if it’s bad news.

After the testing, the doctor told him the results.

Of course it was bad news. His heart condition has worsened.

“Would you like the others to come in? If so, we can discuss options to help correct the situation once they’re in here.” The doctor said.

Patton plastered on a smile, trying to be brave for his loves and not cry. “Yes, that would be great.”

The doctor opened the door and motioned for Logan, Roman, and Virgil to come in. They immediately sat down next to Patton, in return, they got a small, soft smile.

“First thing’s first, the heart condition has gotten worse, as a result, making it harder for Mr.Baker to do activities that normally would be no problem.” They just nodded in understanding, not really knowing what to say. Virgil scooted closer to Patton so he can rest his head on him. “Though there is a surgery that we can perform to correct the condition.”

You could almost feel Patton’s hopefulness radiating off of him.

“What are the risk, if any?” asked Logan, of course he would think about that.

“That is the bad part. There is a 68% chance of there being further complications or death. Without the surgery, he has a prognosis of around 3-6 months.” The doctor looked at the faces in the room, ranging from disbelief to agony. “I’m just going to step out for a few minutes to allow you all to decide. If you don’t decide now, you can contact the front desk and they’ll direct the call to me to discuss specifications.” On that note, the doctor walked out of the room.

Patton broke.

Virgil moved Patton on top of him while both Roman and Logan grabbed a hand and rubbed soothing circles into the back of them.

“So what are you going to do?” Roman asked from next to him.

“I think I’m going to do get the surgery.” Patton’s voice was barely louder than a whisper. He could feel Virgil tense behind him.

“You heard the risks though. You know that there is a pretty high probability that you could die or get harmed more.” Came Virgil’s voice, clearly worried. Patton didn’t want them to worry. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything else through his tears, so he just nodded his head and nuzzled closer into Virgil.

Logan was able to find the words Patton couldn’t, “Yes, but Virgil, you heard his prognosis. If he doesn’t take this chance…” His voice trailed off, not really wanting to end that sentence.

The knock of the doctor broke the occurring silence.

“Have you made your decision, or are you going to need to call back?”

Patton nodded and wiped the stray tears off of his face, “Yeah, I’m going to get the surgery.”

“Great. If we move towards the front desk, we can schedule a date.”

After they had a scheduled date for next week, they drove straight home, Roman comforting a crying Patton on his lap and letting a few tears fall himself. Once they got home, Roman carried Patton inside while the other two followed, Virgil got the blankets and Logan pulled out the couch so they could have a proper cuddle pile. Once they got comfy, Patton broke down again and so did his boyfriends, just a bit quieter.

“I’m just… really scared.” Came Patton’s voice. It sounded so weak and fragile that it broke everyone’s heart even more.

“We understand, puffball,” Roman’s voice sounded thick from worry and tears. “This is a scary situation, you have a right to be scared.”

Patton choked out another sob, “I just don’t want to lose you guys.” At that, everyone tightened their hold on him.

Logan’s voice spoke up for the first time in a while, “You won’t lose us, we’ll make sure of it.” Whether the statement was made out of denial or determination, who knew.

They spent the rest of the day cuddling and watching movies until they eventually passed out while in the middle of Frozen.

When Patton woke up the next morning, the first thing he noticed was the lack of warmth, the next was hushed murmurings. He shifted a bit so he could find who was making the noise, catching the notice of his boyfriends by doing so. Roman then walked over and picked Patton up to set him down at the table.

“I can walk, you know.”

“Yes, but we’re not allowing you to walk more than you have to, Patty-cake.” Declared the dramatic man as he sat Patton down in a seat.

“Though, we are allowing you to walk every once in a while so you are not at risk of blood clots.” Logan’s voice called out from the stove, the smell of whatever he was making in the air. He then plated whatever it was and set it in the middle of the table.

Virgil took his seat next to Patton and gave the kind man a small squeeze. “We just don’t want you to overexert yourself, Cookie.” The use of their high school nicknames made Patton giggle.

“So, what do ya guys have planned for today. Surely it’s gotta be something interesting by the way you were all whispering.” Patton said as he started to fill his plate with food.

“Well, little Puffball,” Roman started from behind him, “We’re going to be having the best week ever before your surgery, starting with a trip to the shelter so you can play with the dogs.”

“That sounds great!” Patton all but shouted from his spot at the table. A week where he can spend it having fun with his boyfriends, amazing.

---

And amazing it was.

They spent the week making sure it was Patton’s best, going to his favorite places, watching his favorite movies, the absolute best cuddles, and overall made him feel special and loved. The best part though was the final night before the surgery where they blindfolded Patton while leading him to a certain spot. When they removed the blindfold off of Patton, he didn’t know what to say. They had set up a picnic in the park, but the area of the park they were at was what made Patton so speechless.

“Is this-”

“The place where we held our first date? Indeed, it is.” Logan finished for him, which he was grateful for. “We thought it would be nice to have another picnic at the place where it all started.”

“Yeah, who could forget the place where princey ran straight into a tree.” Virgil said, a squeak of defiance could shortly be heard after he received a smack from Roman.

“I think it’s lovely!” Patton looked at the picnic setup on top of the hill… great, a hill. He’s been feeling a bit dizzy from all of the stuff they’ve been doing leading up to the picnic. Before he could ask for help up there, he let out a yelp as Roman picked him up.

The picnic itself was a beautiful time. They had the same thing on their first date, pasta with a side salad, Roman rolled down the hill and ran into the same tree, Virgil started a food fight with everyone, and they ended the night with stargazing.

---

The next day was Patton’s surgery. They all had to wake up early, much to Virgil’s reluctance, to drive him to the hospital so they could prep him. Then they wait.

They were all scared in that waiting room. Why wouldn’t they? Their puffball was in surgery, a surgery that had a high chance of a side effect called death.

Roman went to the cafeteria to get some hot chocolate for everyone at some point, coffee was a no-go with their nerves already on edge, Logan was trying to keep Virgil from burning a hole in the floor, despite possibly being more worried than the ball of anxiety himself, and Virgil was trying to not go through all the different outcomes of the surgery.

After who knows how long, the doctor walked into the waiting room.

Patton’s surgery was a success.

You could practically feel the relief wash over the room.

“He hasn’t woken up yet from the anesthesia, but you are still allowed to wait in his room.” The doctor informed them right before he showed them to Patton’s room.

When they opened the door, their eyes laid on Patton laying in his bed. Unconscious but alive.

---

The first thing Patton registered when he woke up was the bright light, why is it so bright? The next was someone holding his hand. He turned his head to investigate, only for a smile to grace his lips as he saw Virgil passed out while holding his hand. He looked over Virgil’s shoulder to see that Roman and Logan fell asleep in the same chair close by, Roman looking more like a koala with how tight he was holding Logan.

It was a warming sight.

Patton decided not to bother their peace and go back to sleep. The main worry was over, he survived and now he can live his life with his wonderful boyfriends. He let that be his thought process as he drifted off to sleep surrounded by his loves.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #my heart skips a beat #human au #hurt/comfort #lamp

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there-must-be-a-lock · 5 years ago

Text

Daisies

Sam Winchester x Harry Styles

Word Count: ~1330

Warnings: All the fluff. Recreational drug use. Dean snark.

A/N: Rockstar AU, continued. You don’t really need to read Handshake to enjoy this, but it’s basically a follow-up. Pure silly fun. I blame it on @fookinghelljensensthighs.

Dean claps and whistles as Greta Van Fleet file offstage with one last wave. He doesn’t want the set to stop; it’s been a long time since he’s been able to hang out in the pit at a show with any sort of anonymity.

He could’ve been watching from sidestage, up in the artists-only bleachers, but where’s the fun in that?

Dean’s gotta hand it to the kid, the “disguises” he’d suggested are surprisingly effective. Dean feels utterly ridiculous with a bandanna over his mouth, like some sort of fuckin’ Old West bandit, but it did help with the dust all day, and between that and a low-angled hat, he hasn’t gotten more than a few double-takes. Harry, in his blue wig, massive sunglasses, and long skirt, didn’t draw so much as a second glance when they were walking around yesterday. Trust the former boy band member to know how to get around unnoticed.

Speaking of, better get back to them before they decide to go on an adventure, or (worse) before the kid manages to talk Sammy into another fuckin’ genius idea like the Silly String Incident of 4am yesterday. It’s almost sunset; he’s pretty sure Harry turns into a pumpkin when you get him wet after dark. Something like that, anyway.

About four months ago, this ostentatiously pretty dude showed up on the doorstep of the Winchesters’ Nashville house, toting a fucking Gucci overnight bag, and he just… stayed. It’s become normal to come downstairs for coffee and find an international pop star helping himself to Dean’s favorite cereal, absent-mindedly singing Prince songs while decked out in a silk kimono and a leather collar. Dean’s life is weird.

Sammy’s been smiling a whole lot lately, though… the real, big, brilliant smiles that Dean didn’t see enough of, for a while.

They had a few rough years, getting the band started; they’ve had their ups and downs, and sometimes Dean feels guilty for dragging Sam all around the country in a van when this music thing wasn’t really his dream to begin with. Then Dad died, and Dean might’ve been drinking too much, and Cas almost quit when they were recording the first album, and it was touch and go there, for a while. It felt like Sam grew up too fast. He grew up before he was ready, always trying to be the responsible one, the peacekeeper, always working so hard to live up to what he thought Dean expected of him.

Anyway. Anything that makes Sam smile like that is fine in Dean’s book.

He makes his way past the VIP checkpoint and into artist camping, and he spots Harry and Sam from a distance. They’re right where he left them, thank fuck, sprawled out on a blanket under some trees in a relatively private clearing near the parked tour bus.

Sam’s sprawled, at least. He’s lying back with his head on Harry’s lap, and… oh dear god he’s wearing a flower crown. Dean stops dead in his tracks, blinks, and rubs his eyes, as if that might change what he’s seeing. No such luck.

It’s not some fuckin’ Coachella fake flower bullshit, either. Sam’s got an honest-to-fuck daisy chain around his head, and as Dean gets closer, he realizes Harry’s currently braiding more flowers into Sam’s hair. There’s a fuckin’ piece of grass in there, too. A florist just moved in and set up shop on his head.

“Hey, Timberlake,” Dean barks, trying to make his voice come out stern instead of soft and embarrassingly fond.

Harry looks up as Dean approaches and declares lazily, “If it isn’t my favorite Dean-Bean.”

“Did you pop down to Rivendell while I was out? Who’s the elf queen?” Dean snarks, and Sam finally tilts his head to look at Dean and give him a floppy-armed sort of wave and a goofy grin.

“Dean! You’re back!” he says, with way more excitement than Dean thinks his ninety-minute absence really warranted. “Check out this sunset!”

Dean glances up, to where the sky is just beginning to turn vaguely peach-ish, and looks back down at Sam, who’s now holding his own hands up in front of his face and examining them with a seriously enraptured stare.

Harry, meanwhile, is looking up at Dean with the world’s most innocent, dimpled, picture-perfect, squeaky-clean, teen-mag grin, the grin that means he’d probably be in a lot of trouble right now if he wasn’t Harry fuckin’ Styles. Dean raises an eyebrow. The kid bats his goddamn eyelashes, like butter wouldn’t melt in his goddamn mouth.

“I wasn’t even gone for two fuckin’ hours,” Dean grumbles. He sits down on the blanket next to them and looks down resignedly at his brother’s spaced-out grin. “What’d you do to him? Mushrooms again?”

“What do I look like, some sort of drug pusher?” Harry says mournfully, managing to look wounded for exactly two seconds.

Dean rolls his eyes. “No, you look like a stray teenybopper wearing his grandma’s clothes.”

The impish smile returns with a vengeance. “Just a bit of LSD. D’you want some?”

Dean sighs and looks down at his little brother. “How ya doin’, Sammy?”

“Pretty fucking fantastic, actually,” Sam says, and then dissolves into laughter for no apparent reason, rubbing his cheek against Harry’s thigh (the paisley velvet pants he’s wearing do look pretty soft, to be fair) like some overgrown cat.

Harry’s already pulling a bit of tinfoil out of the pocket of his cardigan and unfolding it.

“I dunno, he’s never done this before, what if…” Dean hedges.

Sam flails upright, refolding his long limbs to sit cross-legged, and reaches out to grab one of Dean’s hands with both of his.

“Dean,” he says, painfully earnest, eyes huge and pleading. “Please do this with me? I’m having so much fun, and I want you to have so much fun. With me. Us. Fun. You know? I just want you to see how amazing these trees are right now!”

“If you think those trees are cool, just you wait til we find some music,” Harry says, leaning in conspiratorially, draping himself over Sam’s back and clinging like a drunken octopus, as he tends to do. “Don’t worry, Dean-Bean, I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

The combined power of their dimples could probably melt steel beams, and that’s before you take into account the puppy-eyes. Dean just rolls his eyes and opens his mouth, and Harry cackles with slightly alarming glee as he places a tiny square of cardstock on the tip of Dean’s tongue.

“Down the rabbit hole, I guess,” Dean says, smiling in spite of himself at the childish joy on Sam’s face.

“Right,” Harry says decisively. “Time to gear up and find some fun.” He scrambles to his feet, pulling Sam up after him, and Dean follows.

They only make it a couple steps before Sam side-swipes him into a gigantic bear hug. Dean returns it bemusedly at first, but after a second he relaxes into it, giving Sam a squeeze.

“I love you, Dean,” Sam mumbles, and he’s doing that sincere thing again when he pulls back, his expression open and honest in a way that Dean knows shouldn’t make him quite so uncomfortable.

“You’re on drugs and there’s a fuckin’ shrubbery in your hair, it’s real hard to take you seriously right now,” Dean grumbles, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. “But… I love you too.”

Sam laughs and slings an arm around Harry’s shoulders, and the two of them start quoting the Knights of Ni at each other as they walk unsteadily down the path. Dean doesn’t mind that they’re a few steps ahead of him. It gives him a second to wipe his eyes.

It’s still new, this version of Sammy, the one who hugs Dean for no reason and says “I love you” without thinking twice. He’s just been happier, these last four months.

Dean thinks he could get used to seeing his brother smile like that.

More in this ‘verse over HERE!

#sam winchester fic #harry styles fic #sam winchester x harry styles #ridiculous crack pairing that makes me happy

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fieldsofplay · 4 years ago

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Favorite Albums of 2020

25. Dehd – Flower of Devotion

Rather than look back on the shit year that was 2020, lets keep our eye on the hope of the horizon. Speaking of which, Dehd herald much of what’s to come on this here list. While as previously mentioned a shit year for most everything besides presidential politics, 2020 proved to be a great year for good old fashioned guitar music. Could I be accused of curling up with my version of musical comfort food? Perhaps. But starting off with Dehd, we have a type of band that used to be everywhere and now seems to be almost nowhere. Jangly lo-fi guitars, perky drums, and straightforward unadorned singing. About five years ago you couldn’t throw a rock in Brooklyn without hitting a band like this, but now that that fad is long gone. I’m glad that Chicago’s Dehd are still carrying the torch.

24. Perfume Genius – Set My Heart on Fire Immediately

I’ve always liked Perfume Genius, but for whatever reason Set My Heart on Fire Immediately is the album that took him out of the realm of casual background musical encounter to something I sought out. Chamber pop has never really been my thing (except for those couple summers where Grizzly Bear was totally my jam), but here the torch songs catch fire by the compressed force of Michael Hadreas’ longing. This record also pulls off the impressive feat of each song gradually morphing just a bit from what proceeds it, so that the whole record sounds similar and yet each song carves out its own little generic niche, the whole thing united by the quivering power of that pleading voice.

23. 2nd Grade – Hit to Hit

If you ever found yourself wondering what Guided by Voices would sound like if they wanted to be Big Star instead of punk rock Kinks, we now have the answer, and it’s Phily’s 2nd Grade. In the noble tradition of Bee Thousand and Alien Lanes, Hit to Hit’s 24 tracks breeze by in a mere 41 minutes and 8 seconds. An earworm sunny melody, a quick guitar hook, a second verse (maybe), and poof, each song is gone before you could ever miss it. You would think variation would be difficult working within such tight musical corners, but while each song clearly shares common DNA, there is actually a lot of variance here, from weepy country ditties (“Bye Bye Texas”) to overdriven stompers (“Baby’s First Word”) though they all tend to orbit the same (big) star.

22. Tame Impala – The Slow Rush

I’ll be the first to admit that The Slow Rush isn’t my favorite Tame Impala record, not by a long shot. Having said that, this album still feels like it got short shrift this year (not that anyone can really complain about that in these here times). If we never knew that Lonerism or Innerspeaker or Currents existed, I wonder how much people would be head over heels for this album. “One More Year” “Is It True” and “Posthumous Forgiveness” are all top notch Impala jams. Seems like this album is the soundtrack for the chilled out summer hangs that we never got to have, and thus it’s fitting that it seems condemned for the ash-heap of history rather than the late-night come downs we never got up to.

21. Against All Logic – 2017 – 2019

Ah, speaking of complicated musical relationships, I can never seem to chart a clear course with Nicolas Jaar. The music he puts out under his own name never seems to do much for me, but I dug his collaboration with Dave Harrington as Darkside, and I really love most everything he’s put out as Against All Logic. While admittedly not a great year for house music—normally a liberating genre of communal interconnectivity, now a cruel reminder that we all live in Footloose—a banger remains a banger, and 2017-2019 is full to the brim with them. While I honestly can’t remember the last time I went dancing, I’ll still crank up “Fantasy” and bop around my living room, literally dancing by myself (lets be honest, something I would have done pandemic or no).

20. Fiona Apple – Fetch the Bolt Cutters

Fetch the Bolt Cutters has had a lot of great things said about it this year, so I don’t really have to add that much. What I will say is this is perhaps the most interesting percussion I’ve ever heard on a record. There is percussion all over the place, but almost none of it in the form of full-kit drumming. Fiona always used the left hand on the piano as the rhythmic center of her songs, but here there is drilling, tapping, rapping, patting. The phrase DIY gets tossed around all the time (and almost never applied to big money, big label Fiona) but to me the most impressive thing about this record is how it always sounds like she is sitting at a rickety upright piano in the corner of a living room, while everyone congregating around keeps the beat by tapping on pots and pans, the walls, whatever is at hand. I’ve truly never heard anything like it.

19. Advertisement – American Advertisement

Godbless Seattle’s Advertisement. So long as there is cheap beer, old shitty cars driving with the windows down, and the U-SofA, there’ll be bands like Advertisement. Straight out of the vein of Cheap Trick and the more recent White Reaper, Advertisement play power pop with the emphasis on the power. Sometimes this type of music gets called sleazy, but honestly I don’t get it. I think its probably because you can imagine it playing while Wooderson drives around Austin looking for redheads. While we rightfully cancelled the song of summer this year, “Upstream Boogie” would have gotten my vote, perfect for backyard bbqs and cannonballing into creeks.

18. Nation of Language – Introduction, Presence

I didn’t set it up this way, but if Advertisement has a diametric opposite, its probably Nation of Language. Where Advertisement is all frayed edges and foam, Nation of Language is as buttoned up as those terrible sports jackets people wore in the early ‘90s. While its not as good as my beloved Black Marble, those bands share enough DNA to make me a big fan of this synth pop gem. It’s not as dark as the cold-wave Black Marble, but it does share that bands fondness for stark baselines and crisp arpeggios. If you’ve ever envisioned your life as a scene from a John Hughes movie, Nation of Language could easily be playing in the background.

17. The Soft Pink Truth – Shall we Go on Sinning so that Grace May Increase?

Indulge me in a moment of naval gazing. Every year as I put these things together I reach a point where I’m lack “damn, this album is this low on the list?” And the point at which that thought enters my head is usually indicative of how good a year for music it was. Now 2020 wasn’t a good year for anything, and I probably spent the least time of any year listening to music, new, old, whatever. For the most part I just listened to the Grateful Dead and ambient albums. However, for my idiosyncratic tastes, 2020 was actually a pretty fucking incredible year for new music, as evinced by the fact that this album is all the way down at 17.

Earlier on in 2020 as I was bombarding my poor local music text thread with yet more of my inane musings, I think I declared this a top 3 album of the year. And I wasn’t lying! “Pretty” is often a dirty word in aesthetic appreciation, but this is certainly the “prettiest” album of the year in the best sense of the word. From the Drew Daniel half of Matmos comes Shall we Go on Sinning so that Grace May Increase? A record that is somehow simultaneously deep house and feather light, so much so that it needs its own dumb internet music writing moniker—shallow house? wide house? vacation house? (actually kinda like that last one). With vocals from Jana Hunter, Angel Deradoorian, and Colin Self (with whom I wasn’t previously familiar) this thing will simultaneously make you want to tap your foot and drift off into the clouds. This is album is like the prayer Madonna sang about all those years ago.

16. Kurt Vile – Speed, Sound, Lonely KV

It’s not at all surprising that if Kurt Vile decided he wanted to go country western he’d be really fucking good at it. First of all, he’s an exceptional acoustic guitar picker. Secondly, his voice, while always befitting his hazed out urban rockers, has just enough twang to it that in retrospect it always sounded a little bit country. This record also gives me room to offer up an homage to the late great John Prine, for whom the EP is essentially a tribute. Vile covers two Prine songs, dueting with the man himself on “How Lucky.” Saying goodbye is never easy, but on Speed, Sound, Lonely (both the album, and the song more or less by that name) Vile manages a fitting tribute to a lost legend.

15. Lomelda – Hannah

The reviews of Hannah really did Lomelda a disservice. Sure, they were glowing, but they made it sound like this was some weepy milquetoast singer songwriter affair, when it’s actually a knotty album full off elliptical piano and fuzzed out electric guitar. Its 14 tracks hurtle by, largely due to the fact that almost all of them are under 3 and a ½ minutes. Things really get going with the second track, “Hannah Sun” with is squiggly synth effects and driving acoustic strums carrying on Hannah Read’s musings. It’s an album of relentless forward musical movement even if the vibe feels like it’s always looking back over its shoulder. Basically this album is what emo would sound like if it wasn’t made by the worst people in the universe.

14. Shabaka and the Ancestors – We are Sent here by History

Jazz! Another great year for jazz (Asher Gamedze’s Dialectic Soul and Keefe Jackson, Jim Baker, & Julian Kirshner’s So Glossy and So Thin are with a strong group that just missed the cut). In the midst of an excellent jazz renaissance (you gotta use super annoying words like “renaissance” when talking about jazz) Shebaka Hutchins remains my absolute fave of the bunch, and We are Sent here by History is probably my favorite thing he has put out so far.

13. Waxahatchee – Saint Cloud

While I really liked Waxahatchee’s low-fi emoish debut—American Weekend—I’ll readily admit I wasn’t much about the popier albums that followed, frequently jesting, honestly, that Allison was my preferred musical Crutchfield sister. All that changed for me with Saint Cloud. I’ve certainly drifted far off into country and Americana as I’ve aged, and it appears the same came be said for Katie Crutchfield. These songs have a giddyup to them but they never break out into a gallop, allowing the strength of the melodies to carry them along across the plains, with just the right hint of twilight. Saint Cloud is the sound of Patsy Cline if she played to roadside inns rather than the Grand Ol’ Opry.

12. Neil Young – Homegrown

This was the hardest album to place on the list this year. For starters, should it even count? Clearly I say yes. While some of these songs have been available for over 30 years, as an album, Homegrown was a “new” release here in 2020, even though it was originally slated to come out in ’75 between On the Beach (my personal fave Neil record) and Zuma. As a pure piece of music, is it better than most, if not all, of the records that follow? Of course yes. But what does a new Neil Young record mean in 2020? As a thought experiment its fascinating. Do we value this album within the musical context of 2020 or 1975? Fortunately, it’s an even more enjoyable listen than it is a thought experiment. From the first strums of “Separate Ways” you’re like “oh shit, this is the vintage stuff.” Gentle amber acoustic numbers (“Try”) share space with electric stompers (“Vacancy”). The best thing you can say about Homegrown is that if Neil had originally decided to release this instead of Tonight’s The Night, it would have fit right in amongst his unimpeachable run from Everybody Knows This is Nowhere up through Zuma. A classic is still a classic, no matter what year it finally sees the light of day.

11. Destroyer – Have we Met

Ah Dan Bejar, boy was I wrong about you. I kinda got into Destroyer’s Rubies, I loved his contributions to Swan Lake and The New Pornographers, but yet when Chinatown started really making waves, I just couldn’t do it. It was soft rock! I hate soft rock! I hate everything about it! This preconceived notion wasn’t helped by the fact that I saw him open for the War on Drugs in Pontiac once and he was so drunk he could barely stand up and had to read his own lyrics from a sheet. And yet, for some reason I never really gave up on it. I can’t tell you why exactly, but two summers ago Chinatown just slowly became my go-to for early morning / late afternoon strolls. I found comfort in giving myself over to its pillowy soft embrace / cheating on my own aesthetic judgments. Now that I’m card-carrying Bejarhead, I greeted Have we Met with open arms, and I was not disappointed. The synths glimmer, the guitars add just enough punch, and his lyrics remain sharp as ever. Its fitting that this was the last concert I saw before the iron curtain fell. The one thing I had always turned my back on ended up being the last memory of dionysian group enthrallment I had to carry with me out into the desert of social isolation. Come back soon Destroyer, come back soon, everyone.

10. Deeper – Auto-Pain

Ladies and gentlemen, get ready, because post punk is back! I always say my favorite genre is ‘sad songs you can dance to’ but post punk is a close second. When I was in college post punk underwent a bit of a renaissance in the form of Interpol (back when they were still good), Bloc Party (ditto), Franz Ferdinand, and a whole slew of British one hit wonders (Maximo Park, Futureheads, Art Brut, the Bravery). Fortunately, as is always the case, what’s old is new again, and stark melodic bass lines, angular guitars, and moody introspective speak-singing are back in full force. Of the three post punk bands gracing this here top ten (Deeper, Fontaines DC, and Crack Cloud) each has its own little slice of the generic pie. Fontaines have the deep gloom of Interpol/Joy Division, Crack Cloud ripple with the staccato energy of Gang of Four, and Deeper have the wiry dancieness of, well, Wire. So long as leather jackets and black and white photography remain cool, there’ll always be bands like this, and thank god for that. In a true sign o’ the times, I learned about this band from some random girl’s Tik Tok in my for-you feed. She repped five bands, two of which are in my top three, so I was like, sure I’ll give this band Deeper a go. God bless the internet. Finally, Deeper get bonus points for naming a song “This Heat,” who I’ve been spending a lot of time revisiting this year, and whose spikey guitars are all over this record.

9. The Flaming Lips – American Head

There are few things as satisfying in art as being genuinely surprised by a beloved artist you had given up as culturally dead. Since putting out their last masterpiece (2009’s Embryonic) the Lips have put out a string of good, if inconsequential, albums that befitting the ethos of the band could best be described as half baked (The Terror, Oczy Moldy, and a series of collaborative experiments). Basically, they had reached that dreaded nadir where I was no longer interested in listening to their new output (cough The National, cough cough Arcade Fire). So what made me give American Head a chance? That reader, is the point of art criticism! I can’t remember how the blurb on pitchfork read exactly, but I knew it referenced Tom Petty and a return to a preoccupation with more Earthly concerns—namely ‘70s heartland rock. Well, this sounded intriguing, and boy was I not disappointed. Sure, the Flaming Lips have already reached their sell-by date twice over (first in 1992, immediately followed by their MTV reinvention on 1993’s Transmissions from the Satellite Heart; and then again in the late ‘90s with the departure of guitarist Ronald Jones, followed by their creative pinnacle, ‘99’s symphonic masterpiece The Soft Bulletin), so it shouldn’t be all that surprising that this band could rise from the dead a third time. Only, for the most part, they didn’t. I guess I’m not surprised that American Head failed to reach a broader audience. Most people probably aren’t even aware that they are still a going concern, and after the failures of the last decade it makes sense that most weren’t interested in more tunes from the Oklahoma freaknicks. But for those willing to give the band another chance, American Head easily delivers their best album since Embryonic, if not all the way back to Yoshimi. Mixing ‘70s Americana with the star gazing of Soft Bulletin’s “Sleeping on the Roof,” the Lips deliver their best album in decades by foregoing the parlor tricks and returning to what they do best, taking trips to distant galaxies while keeping their feet firmly planted in the soil and songcraft of Oklahoma.

8. Cut Worms – Nobody Lives Here Anymore

This one is pretty easy. Do you like George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass? If yes, listen to Nobody Lives Here Anymore and revel in this double album’s upbeat acoustic rock mediations. If no, well there’s plenty of other good stuff out there. Not quite as metaphysical or orchestral as All Things Must Pass, Nobody Lives Here Anymore still manages to hit that rockabiliy-pop sweet spot that Harrison used to mine. I’m not quite sure what the definition of “troubadour” is, but it feels safe to call Cut Worms a troubadour, which is certainly better than his terrible stage name.

7. Cigarettes for Breakfast – Aphantasia

Similar to Cut Worms, Cigarettes for Breakfast also involves a simple influence equation. Do you pray at the altar of Loveless? If so, Aphantasia is just the record for you. Sure, it’s a bit of My Bloody Valentine paint by numbers (“Breathe” even features the same squally guitar noise [it’s really hard to try and describe My Bloody Valentine effects ha] as “Soft as Snow (But Warm Inside)”) but when you’re as into shoegaze as I am, that’s never really a bad thing. Plus, I’m being a bit unfair. Everyone with textured tremolo heavy wall-of-sound guitars and cooed vocals is going to inevitably be compared to MBV, and Cigarettes for Breakfast do enough to chart their own course. Perhaps most interesting is the musical journey this record charts. Its loudest moment is its opening, where pummeling guitars more reminiscent of Sonic Youth with a touch of Dinosaur Jr. rip across hardcore style drumming. From there each song becomes a little more ambient, until closer “If Someone Could Help Me, Please” more or less floats away on its shimmering sheets of beautiful noise clouds. In this sense, it bears a resemblance in structure, if not in sound, to Deerhunter’s Cryptograms, another album I spent a lot of time revisiting this year. A shutout here is owed to the fine folks at Radio K, who had me diving for my shazam as this thing ripped across their airwaves. So long as there is college radio, there’ll be a new crop of kids discovering via Kevin Shields that the electric guitar contains endless sonic possibilities.

6. Fontaines D.C. – A Hero’s Death

The second entry in our top-ten post punk trio is A Hero’s Death by Fontaines D.C. I’ll admit, on first blush it’s kind of a dumb band name (I just assumed they were some hardcore band from Washington DC chasing those Dischord Records glory days), but when you learn that the “DC” stands for Dublin City, it all clicks, as this band is sorta inescapably Irish in the way that James Joyce is. Now this fact at first was also off-putting—if I went the rest of my life without ever hearing the Dropkick Murphy’s again I’d be quite content—but eventually it becomes integral to their sound, and not just because of the brogue in Garin Chatten’s vocals. “Love is the Main Thing” is an incredible song in many ways, most notably because of the hypnotic quality of the drumming with its counterpoint between riding cymbal and staccato toms, but perhaps in the main (*wink*) for the way it manages to connote the weariness of a grey urban environment without ever being explicitly about it. Just as Turn on the Bright Lights managed to perfectly capture New York in 2001, A Hero’s Death to me is the aural equivalent of a dense urban center like Dublin, especially after nightfall.

5. Imaginary Softwoods – Annual Flowers in Color

It should come as no surprise that I listened to A LOT of ambient this year, and to me there was no better electronic record to chill the fuck out to during this insane year than Annual Flowers in Color. I absolutely loved Emeralds’ Does it Look Like I’m Here? and was devastated they never followed that gem (*wink*) up. In the immediate aftermath of the demise of Emeralds Mark McGuire’s solo albums got a lot of attention, but apparently the person I really loved in Emeralds was Imaginary Softwoods’ John Elliot. Annual Flowers in Color is like if Dead City’s, Red Seas, Lost Ghosts were waiting in the departure’s lounge of Eno’s airport. At the heart of the album lies the 10 plus minutes of “Another First/Sea Machine.” I could listen to this song forever, and on some particularly WTF 2020 lakewalks I more or less have. Chunky synths, arpeggios that drift off to infinity, ‘80s soundtrack nostalgia. I could live in these Softwoods for the rest of my sonic days.

4. Pottery – Welcome to Bobby’s Motel

In another moment of nostalgia for my college years, Pottery are a welcome return to weird ass experimental Canadian bands. They don’t sound anything like the Unicorns, but in spirit Pottery kind of remind me of them. I’ve spilled a lot of digital ink here and elsewhere bemoaning the fact that Pitchfork (or perhaps, me) isn’t cool anymore, and to me no band embodies this more than Pottery. They take a bunch of fun disparate elements—Talking Heads dance art rock, periodic weird pitch shifted vocal effects, hazy deep purple style guitars, and Queen style machismo disco—throw them into a witch’s cauldron, and come up with something off the wall that sounds like nothing else but is also instantly familiar. This is the type of thing Pitchfork would have been all over in 2007, but instead now they’re too busy chasing conde nast clout clicks. Oh well, nothing gold can last. But enough negativity, this here is a celebration of the joy of new music, and no new band embodies that unbridled joy like Pottery. Along with Fontaines DC, this is the band I wish I most could have bopped around to with a bunch of sweaty strangers in the 7th St. Entry or Turf Club. You can just imagine the call and response vocals and funky grooves getting the people moving. Oh well, hopefully we’ll soon all be rocking the vaccine, they can breeze through town, and I’ll be the first person on the dance floor embarrassingly pumping my fist a half beat behind the rhythm.

3. Pure X – Pure X

To paraphrase Same Elliott in the Big Lebowski, sometimes there’s a band, and well, sometimes there’s a band. For me this year, that band was Pure X. I absolutely loved their debut Pleasure way back in 2011, when lo-fi reverb heavy slow guitar music (ie, Galaxie 500) was all the rage. Their follow up Crawling up the Stairs was so bad I didn’t even bother listening to Angel, though perhaps that also owed a decent amount to just how terrible the art on that record is. (I’ve since remedied this mistake; turns out that record rules). Being that as it may, I can’t particularly tell you what drew me in to this year’s self-titled album, a full nine years after Pleasure first graced the stage. In one sense it’s probably because Pleasure is one those albums that just never went out of my rotation. Whenever the fahrenheit tips past 90 and the walk to the bodega is a few blocks longer than you’d like, that record always hits the spot. Maybe I just knew this was the record I needed this year. Either way, from the first bars of “Middle America” I was hooked. The guitars crash over you, but never in a threatening way. Rather, they envelop you like a weighted blanket, comforting you in their sonic embrace. Nowhere is this more true than on “Fantasy,” easily my favorite song of 2020 (especially since this was a year entirely devoid of dance floor bangers). If this album came out in 1999 rather than 2020 I would have hit the repeat button on my discman and listened to this song forever.

2. Crack Cloud – Pain Olympics

Pain Olympics is the answer to the question that no one asked: what if Arcade Fire’s (back when they were good) communal uplift was paired with Gang of Four’s stark anthem’s of industrialism’s collapse? While on first blush this might sound like your standard album of punkish fist pumping angst, from when the female vocals (sorry there are too many people in this band for me to be able to figure out whose who) come in on opener “Post Truth (Birth of a Nation)” Pain Olympics reveals itself to be a very strange animal (likely a unicorn of some sort), especially as little orchestral swirls creep into the mix, giving it an almost Judy Garland (in hell) quality. This subtle genre pastiche is given its best effect on stunner “The Next Fix.” That song starts out as an elastic spoken-word call and response addiction rumination, at the minute mark it starts to segue into a vocoded chill raver, then some horns crop up out of nowhere, then a spoken word passage, then at the two minute mark a chorus of voices come in, doing their best Broken Social Scene in the truest sense of the phrase. This is perhaps one of the strangest records I’ve ever heard, but what is strangest of all is just how beautiful it is. Crack Cloud are not for everyone, but if you really give it a chance, the returns are limitless.

1. SAULT – Untitled (Rise) / Untitled (Black Is)

You cannot tell the story of 2020 without SAULT, which is why this pair of records is here at the top, even if under the influence of sodium pentothal (lets be honest, veritaserum) I might lean more towards Pain Olympics. In June, the “anonymous” London project put out Untitled (Black Is), and then quickly followed that gem up with September’s Untitled (Rise). Perhaps more amazing still is that these two albums, released so close together, have unique personalities. Black Is is more pop/R&B whereas Rise has a dancy, electr(on)ic feel. I lean more towards the latter, but honestly, both albums are so overstuffed with amazing moments that it’s borderline unbelievable that one outfit could put out so much amazing music in such a short span. While these records would chart high even if sung in Hopelandic, there’s no escaping the social import of the lyrics. One need look no further than Black Is’s “Don’t Shoot Guns Down” for the 2020 dance party at the end of the world. As if that weren’t more than enough, it finds its analogue on Rise’s “Street Fighter,” and that’s SAULT in a nutshell: two albums in constant communication with one another, and more importantly, with the state of the world. Guns down. Don’t Shoot. Let’s dance.

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 4 years ago

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A Muppet Family Christmas

Day 13 of 2018′s 31 Days of Christmas. Note: new for 2020. Credited as 2018 for organizational purposes, & back-filling the prompt.

Thanks to @doctorroseprompts for the prompt list!

Prompt: Holiday movies

Rating: T (sexual themes, alcohol)

Pairing: TenxRose (AU)

Summary: Despite being mid-January James and Rose have a Christmas-movie watching date, and open up about old grief amidst being childish with the Muppets and Mario Kart. Part of the Cosier With You ‘verse.

2018 31 Days of Ficmas Masterlist | Cosier With You ‘Verse

AO3

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With a final swipe of gloss across her lips, Rose returned the lipstick to her purse, fluffed her hair, and knocked on the door.

“It’s open!”

Pushing the door open, she grinned at the sight that greeted her. Hair still obviously wet from the shower, her boyfriend of three weeks (and counting!) stood on the far side of his kitchen island, preoccupied with a popcorn popper that was spitting out perfectly popped corn. “Hey!” he greeted her warmly, as she dumped her stuff and came around to his side. “Missed you.”

“I saw you this morning,” she laughed, kissing him hello. “Mm, you taste like butter.”

“I had to make sure it was good,” James shrugged, gesturing to the half-full bowl catching the freshly popped corn. “Only the best for you. And yes, but we were at your place of work, surrounded by people. I much prefer when we’re alone.”

“So do I.” Wrapping her arms around his waist, she rested her head on his bicep. “Remind me why we’re watching Christmas movies in mid-January?”

James eased out of her arms as the popper wound down, dumping the last of the kernels into the bowl before switching the machine off. “Because I don’t want to wait a year to curl up with you and popcorn and watch cheesy Christmas-themed movies with you.” He nodded towards a bottle of white wine and two glasses on the counter, still chilled from the fridge, waiting for Rose to grab them before guiding her to the couch, which was already prepared for the evening.

Two soft, fleece-lined blankets stood at the ready, along with the pillows from his bed. A stack of DVDs sat on the coffee table, two drink coasters optimally positioned, and to complete the Christmas-y vibe, all the decorations, including the tree, were still up.

“So, for future reference, do you typically leave the tree up this long?” she asked, plopping down roughly in the middle of the couch and pulling out the pre-popped cork. “‘Cause I’ve gotta be honest, mine’s been down since the third, and this might be a sticking point in the future.”

He laughed, settling next to her and reaching for his glass. “No, but… I’m not ready to take it down yet, this year. I’m afraid…”

“What?” She took her own glass, leaning back into the cushions and giving him her full attention.

“I’m afraid that this- what we have- is a function of Christmas magic, and if I remove the decorations…” he trailed off, ears flushing. “Point is, I’m not taking any chances on this.”

Rose grinned, blushing herself, and wiggled closer. “I’m not going to disappear if you take your tree down,” she promised. “And I’m mostly teasing you – it’s sort of nice, it still being up. Not sure I’d say the same if I was living- with one still up,” she faltered, and they shared a smile at what was unsaid- “but… yeah. I wouldn’t want to jinx us either. I’ve been wanting this for so long.”

“Me too.” He leaned forward, and they met in the middle in a kiss that tasted of salt from the popcorn, tart from the wine, and sweet from what she was learning was just him. “Mhmm, you’re too tempting,” he accused without heat when he pulled back for breath. “This isn’t why I asked you over.”

“All right, all right,” she resettled herself with a laugh. “Fine, we can Netflix then Chill, if that’s what you really want.”

His ears and neck turned a delightful shade of scarlet, and he all but lunged for the stack of DVDs, voice squeaking as he said, “So! What shall we start with?”

Leaning in again she rested her cheek against his shoulder as they shuffled through the selection, and it took everything she had not to scoff at the final option, managing a neutral tone to say, “A Muppet Family Christmas?”

James stilled beside her, and she was glad she hadn’t laughed when a distant expression flashed across his face. “It was my dad’s favorite Christmas movie,” he said, hesitantly. “Mum hated it, but tolerated it when we were old enough to watch it. It became our thing, me Donna and Dad’s. She and I still watch it together every year.”

“Oh.” Rose tried to marshal her thoughts, recognizing that he was letting her in on something special, wondering distantly if it was some sort of test. “I’ve never actually seen it.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “Slightly before my time. I know who the Muppets are, of course, saw the Christmas Carol one, but… not this.”

He was silent for a moment, picking at the corner of the box. “D’you wanna?”

“Yes.” She surprised them both with the strength of her response, based on how James’ head flew up to blink at her. “Sounds like this might be the closest I get to meeting your Dad, so- let’s do it.”

His blinding smile told her it was absolutely the right answer.

By the end of the movie they were snuggled together, singing along at the top of their lungs to the final song, even as it trailed off to the credits.

“-And a happy new year!” they finished, before breaking into peals of laughter.

“Oh, I loved it,” Rose proclaimed, wiping tears of merriment from her eyes. “I can’t believe I’ve never seen that – it’s adorable!”

Beside her, James made a happy noise, pressing his face into her bicep. “Really?”

Wriggling around, Rose waited until she could meet his eye to respond. “Really,” she said firmly. “There’s something special about it. And more importantly, it’s special to you. So it’s special to me. Thank you for sharing this bit of yourself with me.” No words could express how honored she felt, that he was comfortable sharing something so personal with her. It made her a little wistful for her own father; while both men were gone, James had at least grown up with his father, known him in person- Rose had been a baby when Pete died.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” James’ concerned tone dragged her out of the spiral of her thoughts, and she looked up at him when he brushed at her cheek. “You’re crying.”

She bit her lip. “I was just thinking about my own dad,” she said truthfully. “I’d give anything to share something like this with him. Or, anything, really. I was six months when he- when we lost him. I mean, on bank holidays Mum and I watch old Cliff Richards movies, but… it’s not quite the same as this.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up a… a sad memory for you.” His soulful chocolate eyes felt like they could see into her very heart, and she pushed down the ever-present but background grief.

“It’s okay. Sometimes it hits me in the weirdest moments. And I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to meet your Dad – he sounds wonderful, based on your stories.” Then she bolted upright, as a memory surfaced. “Holy shit – I think I did meet your dad! Three Christmases ago, the first couple months you were coming in – we didn’t have much of a relationship then, but I still clocked you every time, ‘cause you’re so bloody cute, and I remember you came in a few days before Christmas with an older man! You’d been out shopping, and blimey, he looked just like you!”

James was silent for a long moment, before exhaling. “Blimey, I think you’re right. I’d forgotten – I was sweet on your even then, and I think he noticed, ‘cause he kept teasing me. I never took him back, for fear of him embarrassing me. But… yeah, there you go. You did meet him. And he liked you, much as he could in thirty seconds. Kept egging me to ask you out, and I brushed him off. If only I’d listened to him…”

They sat with that, imaging what could have been, before Rose clapped her hands. “No, we are not going down that rabbit hole. Let’s be grateful that we got there, and we’re here now. Trust me, I spent my entire life pretending not to notice how my mum had one foot stuck in the could-have-beens. Better not to start down that path.” She reached for the bottle of wine, but it was empty. “What d’you say we go do some stargazing?”

“Or…” he drawled, raising an eyebrow, “we could continue on our childish theme and play Mario Kart.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!”

By the third race their maudlin musings had been all but forgotten, as they battled it out for first place with taunts and good-natured ribbing, giving no quarter and playing as though their lives depended on it – complete with over-dramatic victory dances and cheering.

“Oh, come on!” James protested, as Rose eked out a second win by a breath. “You’re cheating!”

“Am not,” she denied, settling back on the couch after a final celebratory kick. “Novice, remember? Beginner’s luck?”

He grumbled, turning to look at her. “Care to make it more interesting?”

“How so?”

“Winner takes a shot, loser loses an item of clothing?”

Rose laughed, shaking her head. “You want to turn strip-racing into a drinking game?” Leaning back, she considered her outfit and his, then the empty bottle of wine. “What d’you got for shots?”

A rifle through the fridge produced a cold bottle of peppermint schnapps, “In keeping with the Christmas theme,” he declared, setting it on the coffee table along with two shot glasses. “Hope you’re thirsty.”

Shaking her head, Rose folded her legs beneath her. “You do know I’m a sure thing, right?” she teased, choosing the next track in the game. “You don’t need to get me drunk, or strip to get me interested.”

“Someone’s confident in themself, aren’t they?” he leered. “Better watch out – who knows what the promise of getting you in your knickers will do to my ability in the game?”

“Not a thing,” she shot back, catching her tongue between her teeth. “Because there’s no where you’re getting me in my knickers.” She started the race, laughing at his outraged yelp.

“We’ll see.”

The light turned green and they took off, and Rose waited until they were near the end and he was slightly ahead to say, “I’d have to be wearing knickers for you to see me in them.” As predicted he startled, going so far as to drop his controller, and with a laugh, she sped across the finish line for her third win in a row. As her character (Princess Peach, natch) was crowned, she turned to watch him splutter, eyes wide.

Finally, he just pointed, making a wheezing sound. “You…”

She took her shot first, nearly coughing at the overwhelming peppermint flavor, before turning her whole body to him. “Strip, loser,” she ordered with a smirk. “And, in case you don’t believe me…” Brave off the half-bottle of wine and the shot, she lifted her leg to splay it along the back of the sofa, confirming for him that she wasn’t wearing anything beneath her skirt. Laughing at the awestruck look on his face she returned to facing the telly, tucking her knees primly together. “I held up my end of the bargain…”

Coming back to life, he shook his head in disgust. “You’re not playing fair.” He whipped his shirt off, revealing his lovely muscular chest, and her knees squeezed together just a bit tighter.

“Well, lose quicker then, so we can go to bed.”

He didn’t win a single race after that, but an hour later, flat on his back on his living room floor wearing only a single sock, with a sticky and sweaty Rose collapsed on his chest, he couldn’t be bothered to care.

“I love Christmas.”

#bbatcfic #doctorroseprompts #31 Days of Ficmas #31 Days of Ficmas 2018 #ficandchips #Doctor Who #TenxRose #Tenth Doctor #Human!Ten #Rose Tyler #A Muppet Family Christmas #holiday movies #Cosier With You Universe

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pufflyhallows · 5 years ago

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Picks & Pens (I)

Hi! This is a brand new series for our boy Sirius Black. It’s a rockstar!au in modern days. I really hope you like it, I had the idea over a year ago and had a little something in my drafts but only now got to write it the way it deserves. Enjoy!

Chapter One: Press

Warnings: language

Word count: 1,7k

a/n: I know nothing about press or the music industry, so forgive me for any mistakes lol

Sirius Black. What a perfect name for the typical arrogant and condescending rockstar who had just been declared artist of the decade by the magazine you worked for. Unfortunately for you, he also happened to be your ex-boyfriend.

You two had met in high school, way before he got famous. He already wrote music back then, you being one of the very first people to ever listen to it. Some of those songs were quite big hits today and you genuinely liked them, but that didn’t mean you liked him. At least, not anymore. Your relationship had ceased to exist seven years ago. What is it that people say about fame? Oh yes, it changes you.

As you walked past the countless desks in that white-walled office with tall windows, the latest edition of the magazine in hands, you thought about your boss’ proposition. She wanted you to interview the “artist of the decade” for the February issue – it was coming out on Valentine’s Day and she wanted an article about Sirius Black’s muse and writing process. According to her, it was impossible that there wasn’t a girl behind the lyrics of his songs, even though the man had been single for years now. You had told her you’d think about it and answer the next day. Well, today was the next day.

Brenda, your boss’ assistant, was on the phone when you approached her desk. She raised a finger at you as if to say “hold on” and kept talking to the person at the other end of that call. You knew better than to interrupt her, so you patiently waited.

“No freaking way, Rebecca! I told you he was going to the party regardless of what Charlie said! Now, don’t get me wrong, I think you’re much smarter than Mackenzie, but she’s got a point.”

You inhaled deeply, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. Was it naive of you to assume that people only took business calls during business hours?

“I’m wheezing! Literally dying! Oh God...” Brenda giggled. “Well, I gotta go. I’m at work. What? Bitch, you called.”

You watched as she hung up the phone and gathered some loose sheets of paper from her desk, organizing them in a pile.

“Brenda?” you said, catching her attention. “I’m here to see Mrs. Lennox. Could you announce me?”

“She’s busy.”

“Uhh… She asked me to come by her office at ten and it’s… ten.”

Brenda sighed and picked up the phone again, pressing the interphone button. “Mrs. Lennox? Sorry to bother, but Y/N says she’s here to see you. Yes. Not a problem. Okay.”

She hung up and went back to putting her sheets into piles. You raised an eyebrow at her before she finally looked at you and spoke as if it was obvious. “Go in!”

Was it unprofessional to flip off a coworker?

You opened the door slowly and found Mrs. Lennox sitting by her desk with her eyes focused on her computer screen. She looked at you and smiled, gesturing for you to come see what she was working on.

“These photos just came in. Look at him! Isn’t he just so handsome?!”

And there he was. His signature guitar lazily laying between his legs as he had one hand resting on it and the other supporting his weight. He was sitting on a white… box-shaped stool? The background was also white, contrasting to his all-black outfit.

“I think I want these in black and white, what do you think?”

“There isn’t much color in them anyways,” you though out loud.

“Oh…” Mrs. Lennox eyed the entire picture. “You’re right. Black and white it is,” she wrote it down on her notepad.

You kept looking at the photo displayed across the large computer screen. The little shit was handsome, there was no denying that. The problem was what was behind that smirk – arrogance, selfishness and a big big sense of self-importance.

“So?!” your boss’ voice snapped you out of your memories. “Have you thought about our conversation yesterday?”

“I have,” you walked around the desk and sat in front of the older woman as she took off her red cat-eye glasses. “But I need to ask you something first.”

“Go ahead.”

“Will it bring attention to the fact that I am his ex-girlfriend?”

“What do you mean, sweetie? Everyone already knows.”

“I know, but… will it be focused on that? Yesterday you mentioned that it’d be great to have some sort of reunion and that the public would love it. Your idea is an intimate interview, just the two of us in the room and all.”

“Yes...”

“I understand it. I agree that the conversation flows better that way, because the interviewees usually feel more comfortable with less people around and no cameras. However, this is my job. Just my job. I don’t want it to be publicized as a reunion with my ex-boyfriend. This is me, a journalist, interviewing him, a musician.”

Mrs. Lennox looked at you for a while, as if she was trying to read your thoughts. She placed her hands together on the desk and took a deep breath.

“Listen, Y/N. I’ve got to be honest with you. The subject that will be discussed in this interview is interesting, yes. A lot of people are curious about his lyrics. Myself included. But frankly? Anyone can ask him questions about that and put it on a website or a magazine. Anyone. Would it sell? Of course! He’s the artist of the decade, everyone adores him. Now, imagine if the person interviewing him is actually a former girlfriend. And not any girlfriend, but his high school sweetheart. The girlfriend from the very beginning of his career. The person who was there when some of the biggest songs of this entire decade were being written. It will sell like water in the desert, Y/N! This is really good for press.”

“So this is why you picked me, of all people. Press,” you looked down and bit your inner cheek. “I’m a journalist, Mrs. Lennox.” You looked back at her, “I am part of the press. And I know how they will eat me alive after this interview. They will chase me around, paps will hunt me everywhere. The whole nightmare will start all over again. Even after seven years, I still get the occasional question about him. After this interview, though? There will be no peace. And, as a matter of fact, I’m not quite sure if I like the idea of having my personal life used as marketing. God, I’m not even sure if I do want to ‘reunite’ with him.”

“I see,” Mrs. Lennox leaned back on her chair. “What is your answer, then?”

You looked in her eyes, thinking about the last three years you worked for her magazine. She was by far the best boss you’ve ever had. She took you under her wing and gave you enough space to explore your full potential and truly shine. She bent backwards for you several times in the past, helping you build your name in journalism. There was nothing in this world that she could ask that would make you think twice before attending. Nothing, except this.

However, there was a side of you that wanted to see him again. To speak to him again. Hear him talk again. A very curious side of you, that needed to see how he would act around you after so many years of no contact. Would he treat you like every other interviewer? Would he be as self-absorbed and pompous? Would he answer to your questions truthfully? That side of you would die to find out.

And that side won. Along with all the respect you had for your boss and the extra payment she offered the day before, of course.

“My answer is yes. I will interview him.”

Mrs. Lennox smiled widely, but before she could say anything, you added. “Under one condition.”

“Oh, Y/N. What is it?”

“It won’t get publicized as a reunion. Please, Mrs. Lennox, don’t publish it with something like ‘Sirius Black interviewed by former girlfriend’. Just put my name in there and let the press do their thing around it. That’s all I ask. Please.”

Mrs. Lennox eyed you for a while, just like before. She always seemed to crave the power to read minds, maybe even control them. She bit her lower lip and adjusted her wedding ring, looking down at her notepad now.

“Well, it does look good to treat it like it’s so casual. Like you’re still friends and it’s no big deal. You did end things amicably, after all.”

Right…

“Okay, Y/N,” she nodded. “It will be just your name, no mentions of the relationship.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Lennox.”

“Right. Look, Y/N, this interview is very important for us. Please, keep that in mind. I expect a really good show of professionalism on your part. The subject might be delicate to deal with, given your past, but I trust that you won’t leave out any details pertinent to the writing of this article.”

“You have nothing to worry about. The subject won’t be delicate at all.”

You hoped you didn’t sound insulted, because you did feel your ears burn slightly with the insinuation that you might care if he wrote songs about some other girl. You absolutely did not. It’s been seven fucking years.

“Great. That settles it, then. I will look into scheduling this interview now,” she clicked on her mouse and put her red cat-eye glasses back on. “I am predicting it will take place within two weeks from now, so no trips out of town during this time!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You can go back to work now, sweetie. If anything comes up, I’ll e-mail you.”

“Okay,” you stood up and grabbed your latest edition of the magazine, remembering why you had brought it in the first place. “Oh! By the way, there’s a typo on page forty-five of the January issue. Printing started this morning, so I think there’s still time to fix it before we lose too much material.”

“Y/N! What would I do without you?! Page forty-five, you say?” she immediately wrote it down on her notepad. “I knew I couldn’t trust Henry on this.”

“He’s a good kid,” you shrugged. “He’ll get the hang of it.”

“Right, right… Ask Brenda to call him on your way out, will you?”

“Of course,” you nodded, already feeling bad for Henry’s ears.

The next couple of weeks were going to be interesting, though.

********

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