#he annoyed Echo for a month straight by constantly singing that song

[here-comes-the-moose]

What I Think Each Member of the Bad Batch’s Favorite Taylor Swift Album(s) Would Be (Plus Bonus Phee and Bonus Fives)

Hunter- Taylor Swift

Wrecker- Tie between 1989 and Fearless

Tech- Red for “All Too Well” alone (he’s very into lyrics and their meanings; also enjoys Folklore and Evermore)

Crosshair- Reputation (he’s also a really big fan of Red and Lover, but Reputation has a special place in his heart; he’s a huge Swiftie though so he likes all of them)

Omega- Speak Now (Reputation is a very close second because Crosshair likes it so much)

Echo- Folklore (followed very closely by Midnights and TTPD)

Phee- Tie between Red and Evermore

Fives- Midnights

[hd-wireless]

📻🎶 H/D Wireless 2021 - Weekly Wrap-up #4

Time flies by when you're having fun! The fourth week of posting has come to an end. Please enjoy this week's Wrap-up! There's two weeks of posting left, so stay tuned for more 🎶

As always you can listen to the prompted songs for the works we post on two playlists:

Click here for Spotify (many thanks to @evaeleanor for helping us out there)

And here for YouTube

🎶 H/D Wireless Art 🎶

📻 Down for What You Want

🎵 Summary: After the war, finding refuge in the clubs of Muggle London is easier than dealing with the shambles of the wizarding world. When Harry and Draco keep running into each other at Apollo's every Saturday night though, they follow their gut instincts to get on the dance floor and discover something they both have been craving for a long time.

📻 What do I do? With a Love That Won’t Sit Still

🎵 Summary: Italian Greyhounds are small and fucked up, but Draco is a big fuck up and that requires scaling. 

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic 🎶

📻 Fire

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy has never had trouble getting boyfriends. The problem is getting one that doesn’t leave him feeling cold after the first few months. He’s looking for something specific: passion, excitement, someone to keep him on his toes. He just doesn’t know how to go about finding it. After kicking his latest boyfriend to the curb, Draco’s at a loss for what to do next, until it occurs to him that a relationship with his fiery (and hot) Gryffindor colleague might not burn out so quickly—if he can just convince Harry to try it.

📻 Into the Unknown

🎵 Summary: It’s been echoing within him for months, like an annoying song that gets stuck in your head and refuses to let go. A nagging feeling in his core, telling him to say something, to do something, to go somewhere. Last night it finally happened. He did it. And it felt good; right. “I can’t be sure.” Four words, easy as that. It had been almost impossible to smother the sudden burst of joy rushing through him as that deep-seated urge rejoiced his unexpected act of rebellion. You’d think the Dark Lord’s punishment would’ve taken the exhilaration out of him, but no. Here he is, countless Crucios later, beaten and bruised, and never has the voice sounded this clear. He’s said something. He’s done something. And now he just has to go somewhere. He has no idea where, but he’s certain it will come to him. All he has to do is get out of here, then trust magic to do the rest.

📻 Home is What We Make of It

🎵 Summary: "There was a blistering draft from the child’s bedroom on the opposite side of the hallway. The door’s handle was icy to the touch as she wrapped her hand around the metal. Unlike the rest of the house, the door gave her resistance in her effort to open it. Unlike the rest of the house, when she opened the door, she couldn’t imagine anyone ever living there. Unlike the rest of the house, there was neither love nor warmth nor any semblance of life that seeped from the rest of the house’s walls. It was cold and hard and chilled her to her bones. She shivered. However, her sense of dread was not just from the cold. Perhaps it was the gaping hole in the wall." Harry and Draco want to start a family, but time loves parallels.

📻 Move, move

🎵 Summary: She grabbed Harry’s hand, slipping something small into it and pressing his fingers around it. “Dilectio. It’ll cheer you up. Make you feel like dancing.” Harry gaped at her. Drugs. Ginny’s fucking giving me drugs? At Stasis nightclub Ginny does indeed give Harry drugs. But it's all good: Malfoy looks after Harry, and Harry grapples with newfound enlightenments, not to mention a newfound fascination with all things Malfoy—one which persists, even when he finds out what Malfoy's up to.

📻 Euphoria

🎵 Summary: Driven by trauma, Harry cuts ties with friends and family. From crowded nightclubs and enthralling live shows, Harry finds himself stumbling into a superficial world where he's lonelier than ever. When even the constant blithe of substance-induced highs can't prevent things from becoming what he ran away from, Draco Malfoy finds Harry. Draco, who’s wearing Muggle jeans and who’s listening to Muggle music and who suggests having a nice little chat on mephedrone. And whose nose crumples beautifully when he laughs. Or: A story about Harry trying to cope with the help of drugs until he finds a new addiction. Draco likes to mend things.

📻 Your House

🎵 Summary: Draco tries to serve Harry divorce papers, but Harry isn't home.

📻 Misery Loves Company

🎵 Summary: Stuck in his own head, misunderstood and lonely, Harry would love nothing more than to stay hidden in Grimmauld Place until the end of time. Malfoy won’t let him, and that's just what Harry needs.

📻 You Sexy Thing

🎵 Summary: As Harry began to tap his foot along to the music, the lights flashed like lightning in the middle of a summer storm, and his eye went straight to the middle of the dance floor. His eyes zoomed in on Draco. The blond looked striking as he moved his slender hips to the soulful beat. Harry watched, captivated as he pressed himself up to Pansy and began to sing to the song.

📻 A Love Story of Less-Than-Epic Proportions

🎵 Summary: Harry and Draco are just friends. Sure, they work together, and live together, and go to gigs together, and do pretty much everything else together—so what? That’s just what friends do. And Harry has no interest in messing with their friendship. He certainly doesn’t need everyone else constantly meddling, pestering them to just get on with it and get together already. He’s having a hard enough time as it is, trying to come to terms with the fact that he probably isn’t ever going to find love. But who needs love, anyways, when you’ve got a best friend?

📻 Cup of tea, Love?

🎵 Summary: Things between them are easy, so much easier than Harry expected. The problem is the outside world, which grows increasingly and ridiculously difficult. “We could leave,” Draco suggests. Harry has always wanted to travel.

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic and Animatic 🎶

📻 rather a lover than a fighter

🎵 Summary: When Harry loses his voice and his magic, it’s up to Healer Draco to save the day. 

🎶 H/D Wireless Podfic 🎶

📻 [Podfic] Keep Holding On

🎵 Summary: gnarf’s original summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Draco both fall into their own battles with their mental states. Draco is sent to Azkaban, and Harry turns to drinking, hoping to forget. Months later, Harry visits St Mungo’s new ward on the request of a friend, only to find Draco in a deep vegetative state. Not willing to give him up, Harry stays by his side, while simultaneously dealing with the Ministry's newest grand idea to make everything worse. Making new allies, and losing old ones along the way, will hopefully be worth it in the end.

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Villainous Heroics - Chapter 3

So, a few quick things to run over! First, for anyone curious, the song Mic was forcing everyone to sing in the first chapter was supposed to be Toxic by Britney Spears - you can thank corndog-patrol for that one.

Two, a comment by Lucarn from AO3 on this story is the sole reason for the first scene in this chapter. They brought up some good observations about Mic and how he acts in this AU versus how Aizawa reacts to him. Overall, I had far too much fun.

Three, there's fanart specifically made for this story and not the other way around! @corndog-patrol drew a beautiful scene from chapter one where Present Mic is first introduced - I almost screamed, to be honest. Go check it out and give it some love!

Enjoy!

                Click here to read the work on Archive Of Our Own.

                     Click here to read the work on Fan Fiction Net.

If you found yourself enjoying this, then check out my writing commissions.

                                          ⍣ I have a Patreon! ⍣                                             ☪ I have a tip jar! ☪

Summary: Eraserhead is an underground hero who is constantly busy and doesn’t have time to be dealing with new villains - even if they aren’t all that villainous and make the night interesting.

Present Mic is the latest up-and-coming villain in the world and he has a point to prove to everyone out there - as long as he doesn’t keep getting distracted by Eraserhead.

Aizawa Shota is someone who soon learns that there is more to someone than the mask they show to the world - especially when it comes to playing heroes and villains.

Yamada Hizashi learns that there is more to heroics and villainy than he could have ever thought - especially in a world where some heroes still care about those lost in the shadows.

(Inspired and dedicated to corndog-patrol’s Villain!Mic AU on Tumblr.)

               <<First/Chapter>> <<Last Chapter>> <<Next Chapter>>

                                                Chapter Three

“It doesn’t make sense.” The resonating sound of typing keys paused to make way for utter silence for a moment before they continued slower, letting Shota know that he was being listened to. “That villain I was telling you about? He doesn’t make sense.”

“The loud one with the leather fetish who you seem to have a thing for?” Leave it to the 18+ hero herself to say a sentence like that one, Shota mused.

“Besides the last part of that sentence, yes.” Idly spinning his pen, Shota stared down at the essay that was more red ink than black, at this point. He really did need to have a discussion with some of his students about the importance of hero ethics. “He acts like a weak villain who’s not a threat.”

“Acts?” Kayama Nemuri perked up at the promise of something interesting to gossip about like the hellhound she was, rolling her chair closer to Shota. “What do you mean he acts like a weak villain?”

“Every time I’ve run up against him before the last time we met he’s either defeated after a few punches or he manages to get himself caught in his own traps.” At the smothered laugh, Shota rolled his eyes, hiding his own amusement. “He’s persistent.”

“That’s one word for it. You said it was different last time? What happened? That was the same night you arrested part of the Drake Gang, right?”

“A few of the lower ranked ones,” Shota nodded, writing a note to see him after class on the essay he was grading. “We have a few promising leads now, however.”

“You’re so mean to your students,” Nemuri muttered as she saw the final grade. “It’d be kinder to expel him, at this point.”

“He has promise,” Shota shrugged. “Barely. Oh, and half of those that were arrested were already knocked out when I got there.”

“What? How- Who?” Ah, that got her attention. Taking a long moment to straighten his stack of work that was already graded, Shota prevented the grin that wanted to form at hearing the loud whine. “Shota.”

“Present Mic.” Seeing the surprised look out of the corner of his eye, Shota nodded. “There were seven total members and they were decent fighters. A few of them seem to have been a part of the gang since it first started up. Five of them were already unconscious when I arrived. He didn’t even look tired.”

“A set up to get in an with the police?” That had been his thinking, at first, but a set up wouldn’t involve one of the gang members looking like he had his face smashed against the ground a half dozen times.

“Too thorough.” Shota sighed, pulling out the next essay. At least this one wouldn’t have as many mistakes - hopefully. “He’s not a part of any of their circles. The worst I’ve caught him at is setting fire to the contracts and receipts of a thrift store because the owner overcharged people and was unfair.”

“Sounds more like a vigilante than a villain,” Nemuri said quietly, voicing Shota’s own thoughts. “Are you sure-”

“He called himself ‘the Voice Villain’ the first time I arrested him. He had also been forcing the entire bar to sing along to some American song.”

“Absolutely heinous,” Nemuri deadpanned, kicking out at Shota’s chair to send him rolling a few inches away. “So he kicked their asses. So what? That doesn’t mean he’s that strong.”

“There was a difference.” Shota placed his pen down, leaning back in his seat to stare up at the ceiling, thoughts focused on that last fight. “When we fought before he’s always come across as clumsy without any type of fighting experience. This time was different.”

“How different?” Well, for starters, Shota still had a few bruises from some of the kicks and punches Present Mic had thrown out. “That’s your reluctantly impressed grimace, you know.”

“He fought like he knew what he was doing, this time. As soon as the seven gang members were unconscious, we started fighting, and he was a lot faster and stronger than he had been before. He was also two or three steps ahead of me the whole time. He was analyzing my moves and predicting where I would attack next.”

“Huh. That is interesting.” Nemuri leaned back, rolling across the floor with the motion as she hummed. “So, then, you’re upset your little boy toy can fight back? You don’t seem all that upset. Ooh, Shota, why didn’t you tell me you liked a fight?”

As soon as she rolled back towards him, Shota was kicking her chair away as far as he could with as little effort as possible. “Shut up,” he muttered, giving her a glare. “It doesn’t make sense. He didn’t fight like he was trained, but he had experience, and he had the brains to predict my movements and react accordingly - even though he’s slower. Why would he put on this whole show of pretending he’s some incompetent villain?”

“Hm. You said he knew your hero name when you first met, right? Maybe it’s some ploy to get to you? That would explain all the flirting.”

 “I thought you said the flirting was because he wanted to fuck me,” Shota shot back as the door to the teacher’s lounge of U. A. opened, Shota trying to keep his face blank he looked to see Sekijiro standing there with a cup of what was no doubt cold coffee.

“Hey, Vlad King,” Nemuri chirped, sounding horribly cheerful. “I was just telling our dear Eraserhead-”

“I don’t need to know.” The door closed quietly, but firmly, Sekijiro no doubt going back to hide in his classroom. Shota almost wished he could do the same.

“Look what you did,” Nemuri scolded before cackling as Shota threw a pen at her. “Alright, alright, so do you think he’s in some plan to take Eraserhead down, then?”

“No.” Shota had done some poking around at the police station and while they had never bothered to find out Present Mic’s real name since he was, in their words, ‘not enough of a threat to warrant the energy,’ he had found out a few things. “Most of what he does is either to cause enough trouble to be annoying or because he was helping someone. The Drake Gang members he defeated apparently liked to abuse and threaten teenagers until they agreed to join.”

“Like I said, Shota, he sounds like a vigilante. Maybe he’s one of those who thinks heroes aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, but he still wants to help.”

“Maybe,” Shota finally conceded, letting Nemuri roll back in close to him. “He’s interesting, though.” He also seemed fixated on Shota, which was something he’d have to deal with, eventually.

“Let me know whenever you’re ready for the talk on safe sex-” This time, Shota kicked her chair hard enough to topple it over.

                                                             ::

Over the weeks that Shota fought against Present Mic, he noticed quite a few things about the man who claimed to be a villain. The most annoying trait seemed to be his prosperity for talking in English. The little phrases he threw out were never too troublesome, but the pet names were starting to get on his nerves.

“Come on, baby, you know I’m just going to come straight back to you.” The ‘baby’ and ‘darling’ and ‘sweetheart’ that were always said in English had Shota contemplating gagging the man, but after dealing with Nemuri for so long, he feared that would only encourage the man further seeing how similar he was to Nemuri some days.

“I doubt there’s anything straight about you.” Shota also, regrettably, had the tendency to mutter little comments that Present Mic always seemed to hear. It was hardly his fault when he worked at a high school for a career and had Kayama Nemuri as a friend.

“You would be correct!” The man’s voice was always so cheerful considering Shota usually dealt with him around four and five in the morning. “How about you, darling? How straight are you?”

After that encounter, Shota had taken to always making sure he had a pair of handcuffs on him. Tying him up with the scarf only seemed to encourage him. Present Mic finding out that Shota wasn’t exactly straight himself had encouraged him enough already.

It wasn’t until almost three months into Present Mic’s archenemy game that Shota discovered his quirk, though, and he hadn’t been lying about being the ‘Voice Villain.’

“Oi, oi, didn’t your mothers ever teach you to play nice with others!” Mic’s voice had been loud enough to echo out into the street when Shota had arrived at a bar that had been held together by nothing except prayer and luck. He had been responding to a call about a group of people using their quirks at the bar, but he hadn’t expected to run into Mic, of all villains.

Lingering by the door, he had seen that Mic had been pinned against the wall by four villains with some powerful quirks, two people passed out on the floor and everyone else gone or cowering in a corner.

“C’mon, man, don’t be a hero!”

“Thought you were some villain or something, Present Mic. You could join us, you know. Make an even bigger splash than before.”

At the offer from the one who looked to be in charge, Shota clutched at his capture weapon and felt a pang of something before Mic was laughing and shaking his head.

“And what? Beat up innocent people just to make a point? I think I’m fine with where I’m at, thanks.” Mic sucked in a large breath of air as the four charged at him at once. Shota swore and had started to activate his quirk, but he didn’t need to. “Now play nice!”

The last word was screamed out, Shota throwing his hands over his ears on instinct as he watched all four men collapse to the ground, mouths open in what could only be a scream as they clutched and scratched at their heads while pieces of ceiling fell down around them.

At least Shota knew what the speaker around Mic’s neck was for. It had to have been directing the soundwaves into something more pinpoint accurate, otherwise he had no doubt he’d be on the ground as well. While the speaker at least made sense, now, that still didn’t explain his poor taste in leather or the mistake on his face that was supposed to be facial hair.

Seeing one man passed out and blood beginning to drip from the ears of all of them, Shota looked to Mic and activated his quirk. The sound cut off quick enough that there was a ringing in his ears as he lowered his hands, but he made sure to keep his gaze on Mic as he let himself take in the damage done to the bar that he could see. He’d let the police handle that it, he figured.

Focusing back on Mic, he frowned at seeing the man had a hand to his throat and looked… panicked. Ah, of course he’d be panicked. He probably hadn’t seen or heard Shota come in and Shota had never had to use Erasure on him before. It didn’t take long for Mic to look around before seeing him, shoulders dropping and tension draining out of him as Shota let go of his quirk.

“And how are you doing this lovely evening, hero?” Mm. Maybe he should have kept Erasure up for a bit longer.

“I was doing fine until I had to see your face.”

“As always, Eraser, your words cut deeply.”

The things he learned about Present Mic hadn’t stopped there, either. Since the man had never been in jail for longer than a week or so at a time, he ended up running into him more than he did any other gang or villain he had to face.

“You didn’t have to shatter them.” Mic was whining and grumbling and complaining like a toddler who hadn’t gotten his way, shuffling along with Shota towards the police station.

“That’s what happens when you start a fight at a club and punch the DJ in the face,” Shota replied easily, narrowing his eyes when Mic stumbled beside him. While the man was often clumsy, or pretended to be, he never really stumbled over his own feet when they were walking.

“He deserved it! Did you hear the music he was playing? He wasn’t even matching the tempo of the songs when they changed! It was terrible, Eraser!” As he talked, Mic stumbled two more times and almost fell flat on the ground when Shota stopped them both. “What? What’s happening? Are we about to die?”

“You keep stumbling. Why? You’re not bleeding that badly. Do you have a concussion?” The man’s pupils were a little blown now that he was looking. “What’s today’s date?” Shota was given a very unimpressed look before Mic rambled off the date, his ‘name,’ the current government leaders, and the news headlines of the last three days as well as the current top ten heroes. Shot could barely remember who the number three hero was, so he just nodded along. “You’re still stumbling.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you punch someone in the face.” Mic looked betrayed and Shota only shrugged. Mic had been annoying, and it had been a fight. He just felt proud that he had managed to destroy those hideous orange sunglasses. Sunglasses. Glasses. “Really, Eraser, you’re starting to make me think-”

“Were those prescription?” Shota knew the answer when Mic tensed up and looked away for the briefest of seconds before looking back with a wide smile. Shota didn’t let him speak. “How bad is your vision?”

“Ah, well, does anybody have perfect vision, these days? It’s fine, really, I’m just a little nearsighted.” A little. That might have been believable if the man hadn’t stumbled so many times. “Aw, are you feeling guilty, hero?”

“No.” A little, but not much, considering how annoying the man could be. The pride of destroying those monsters had vanished, though. “Why don’t you just use regular glasses?” The sunglasses were just… ugly.

“I do have a look to maintain, you know!” Mic complained as they started walking again, Shota a little more careful in where he pushed the man to walk. It was a minute or so of blissful silence before he heard Mic mumble. “I… also have problems with light sensitivity.”

“Mm.” That at least made Shota hate the glasses less - although not by much. “Enough to wear them at night?”

“I get headaches from light sources if they’re too bright,” Mic said, still quieter than usual - at least, quiet for him. “I can wear hats, but they’re not as effective.”

Shoat hummed, looking over, “You have spares?”

“Oh, um, yes.” Good. That meant Shota didn’t have to worry about guiltily buying a new pair or something else equally ridiculous. “Aw, are you worried about me, Eraser?”

“Would you like me to explain in detail how the DJ managed to kick you-”

“Okay, okay, I’m shutting up!” The silence only lasted for a few seconds, but at least the idiot was smiling again.

Hours later, when Shota was comfortably tucked away in his bed under half a dozen blankets and unable to fall asleep, he knew something was wrong when he couldn’t get Present Mic’s bright, sunshine smile out of his mind.

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Backstage - Pete Wentz x Reader

Request: can you do a Pete x reader fan fic but like at a concert back stage kinda thing?

Word count: 1 860

You had your arms crossed in front of your chest as music was pulsating through your body. From backstage you had a perfect view on the stage while being hidden from the crowd, but the cheers and shouts and the clapping and singing of the audience was still audible. A wide smile was plastered on your face as you watched Fall Out Boy perform for the last time on this tour.

It had been five months on the road. Originally you were not supposed to join the band, but their manager had gotten very sick the day before the tour started and had asked you to take their place. You had not even thought twice about the answer before saying yes. And since you got along with the guys, you had decided to finish the tour together with them, much to the relief of their manager, so they could take their time with getting better. Now five months of sharing a cramped tour bus came to an end.

Your eyes wandered over the musicians. You had liked Patrick from the beginning. He was always kind and respectful and made sure to be no trouble for you.

Andy was not much different, even though he sometimes liked to break one rule or the other. But he made up for it with kindness.

Joe was different. More than once you had sent out the others to find Joe. He loved to get to know people and usually he forgot the time over making new friends. You understood that he was interested in other peoples’ mindsets, especially other musicians’, but he had delayed the takeoff of the tour bus at least two dozen times. He usually came running to the bus, all red in the face and excusing himself endlessly over your strict and punitive stares.

And then there was Pete. He was a troublemaker. If there was a rule that he was able to break, he would break it. Be it getting drunk during weekdays or being late to the bus, letting his stuff lay around the bus or as simple things as taking other peoples’ food from the fridge. He stuck to no rule and he liked to play pranks, which annoyed you to death during the first few weeks. You had never been managing a band as big as Fall Out Boy on tour before and Pete made sure to make your life difficult. But with time it got better. You found ways to get Pete to behave. You made sure he got no alcohol during weekdays, you paired him up with Patrick for after the shows, so Patrick would make sure they were back at the bus on time, you once collected all his stuff that was laying around and put it into a garbage bag to leave it at the next stop. Pete had only noticed half a minute before the bus took off again, that most of his things were missing and quickly got out to grab the bag. He had learned that lesson. And once, you mixed the little remains of your strawberry jam (from which Pete liked to steal) with chili sauce. Needless to say that he stopped stealing your food after that.

And then, one day, things changed. It was after a show and the guys were out while you relaxed on the bus. Suddenly Pete walked in and asked if he could talk to you. Of course you said yes, one of your jobs was to make sure the guys were in good physical and mental conditions.

That evening Pete opened up to you. He told you all about his hopes and dreams and worries and fears. Under the mask of carelessness he always looked out for his friends. He was afraid to let them down, to let the fans down if he should be unable to write good texts, or messed up a show. He worried the guys were under too much pressure from all the shows and how he could help them. He worried you were under too much pressure. In general, he constantly worried about everyone on the bus. You listened patiently, sometimes asking questions to understand him better. You calmed him down and made sure he understood that he was not responsible for everyone.

That evening was the first of many. He often came to search your advice after that night. He tried to get you to talk about yourself as well, but there was not much to say. You were single, had no pets, no houseplants, but a loving family that supported your job as a manager on tour. So you spent hours and hours talking about music and life and the world. And without noticing, you fell in love with him. It had only accrued to you a few weeks ago. You had woken up and suddenly you realized that all the butterflies and hitching breaths and weak knees were because you were in love with Pete. And there was no chance that it would ever be more than unrequited feelings.

Your eyes rested on the bassist. He was jumping to the music, his hair bouncing up and down. His hands skillfully wandered over the strings of his instrument. With light steps he strode to the edge of the stage, playing close to the audience. After a few seconds he turned around and walked back to his microphone. On his way back his eyes met yours and he smiled even wider than he already did. You gave him a short wave, watching as he continued playing. You loved watching him. But for the sake of professionality you refrained from doing it usually. The only time you allowed it to yourself was during concerts. When no one but the band could see you standing backstage. You sighed deeply, relaxing to the familiar tunes of the loud music and the well-known vibrations of the bass. This was the last show of the tour, the last night with the band, the last night with Pete, before your ways parted and god knows when you would see him again. You were torn between being glad and sad about the end of tour. Glad, because you would finally be able to sleep in your own bed again. Sad, because you would be missing Pete and the boys terribly.

Your eyes followed Pete around the stage. You lost yourself in his hair, his fingers on the bass, the smile on his face.

And before you knew it, the last note of the final song echoed through the venue and the lights turned off.

Andy was the first one to get backstage. He was shirtless, wearing shorts as always, barefooted. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his sweaty body, but you did not mind. You were used to being hugged by the sweaty band members after the show.

“How were we,” he asked after letting go of you. A wide smile was plastered on his face and he was vibrating with adrenaline and excitement after the last song.

“Phenomenal,” you told him smiling, patting his shoulder, making him giggle.

The next one to approach you was Joe. He had a smug grin on his face before he dumped the contents of a water bottle on your head. You let out a surprised shriek before starting to laugh. It actually felt good, being cooled down from the hot summer night air. Both Joe and you giggled gleefully before Patrick approached you. He quickly hugged you as well, pressing you against his sweaty shirt.

“How did you like it,” he asked. He always liked to be given feedback after a show, even when it was the final one, and you were always glad to give it to him.

“I loved it,” you smiled.

“What did you think about that transition from Arms Race into I Don’t Care?”

“It was the best one you did so far. Honestly, I think this was the best concert so far,” you admitted.

Patrick’s face lit up at your words. “You really think so?”

“Yes! You had such an electrifying energy, you made everything vibrate with your music!”

“And the crowd was really amazing,” Patrick added.

“True, but you really, really rocked it,” you patted his shoulder.

Suddenly his eyes grew wide at something he spotted behind you. Curious you turned around. Surprised you tried to make a step back because Pete was walking straight to you, almost running. He was already so close that you were afraid he’d run you over. But before you were able to get out of his way, he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into him, crashing his lips into yours.

You did not even think before you kissed back. You had been longing for this for so long. You wrapped your fingers into his hair and pressed yourself closer to him. His body was hot from the heat and the performance on stage. His hair was sweat soaked and you were wet from the water Joe had dropped on you. But neither of you cared. You were too caught up with Pete’s lips against yours, his skin against yours, your hands wrapped in his hair, his hands sneaking around your waist, holding you as close as possible. The sound of the cheering fans outside was drained out by the rushing of the blood in your ears. You felt dizzy and euphoric, your knees got weak and you clung to Pete for support. Kissing Pete was like oxygen after almost suffocating, like cool water before almost dying of thirst. You could not get enough and it felt far too early when he pulled away for air.

Your eyes flickered open, ghosting over his face. His cheeks were dusted over with a hint of pink, his dark hair fell into his forehead, his lips were red and looked so kissable, and when his eyes slowly opened, his dark brown orbs glanced lovingly at you. Just then you really comprehended what happened. You felt your face burning up from embarrassment. Pete had kissed you and you had kissed back. Before you could worry any further, Pete chuckled.

“Wow,” he smiled, still breathing heavily. “I really should have done that earlier.”

Confused you blinked at him.

Pete chuckled again. “Kissed you, I mean. I wanted that from the moment I first saw you.”

Unbelieving you shook your head, before you leant it against his shoulder. You took a deep breath, inhaling his scent. You felt dizzy at being so close to him.

“I hope you didn’t mind,” Pete whispered.

“I could never,” you answered, smiling against his neck.

For a while you stood there, hugging each other, enjoying each other’s company. When your attention finally extended back to the room, you noticed you were alone with Pete.

“Where is everybody,” you wondered.

“The others? Probably giving us some space. At least that was the plan,” Pete mumbled.

“What plan,” you asked curiously.

“Do you really think I would’ve had the courage to kiss you, if Patrick, Joe and Andy wouldn’t have convinced me you liked me?”

You giggled at Pete’s confession.

“Thank god they did.”

[buckybarnesappreciationsociety]

Lazy Days and You

Summary: Love carries no expiration date. All you know is, with a little luck and fairy dust, you’ll feel Cupid’s arrow!  Redemption and love...two vital ingredients for joy!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Original Character of Color Marisol Kincaid

OFC: Steve, Nat, Sam, Wanda, Tony and Anthony Grant Barnes (eventually)

Warning: Redemption and happiness (misspelled on purpose)

Word Count: 882

A/N: My entry in @supersoldierslover Taw’s 3k Writing Challenge! Congratulations my friend.  You’re a sweetheart. Enjoy!

An Avenger has little to no time for a relationship. Clint and Laura’s marriage is exception to the rule. With each mission, moments of uncertainty looms overhead. What if they were mortally wounded or killed? No one deserved to constantly be on edge.

Happiness eluded James Buchanan Barnes like the plague. So, he resorted to playing the field. Pretty soon, he amassed quite the reputation. Bucky Barnes, lady killer.

Marisol wasn’t an Avenger. Her position at Stark Industries lacked adventure and danger. As supervisor over the Records Room, Marisol ensured staff uploaded pertinent HYDRA data, via computer into F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s data bank for storage. Also, Marisol personally transferred delicate notes onto a USB, where they were sealed and placed in Tony’s private safe…..off site.

Tony found a reason to throw one of his over-the-top parties. Standing at the bar with Steve, Bucky scanned the crowd for this elusive woman whose peaked his curiosity.

Greeting her friends, Marisol strolled to the bar. “Jack straight please.”

Turning on the charm, Bucky attempted to reel her in. “Jack straight? Pretty ballsy drink for a dame.”

Rolling her eyes, Marisol shot him down. “II know all about your womanizing reputation and I will not be another notch in your bedpost. Have a good evening.”

Sam witnessed the exchange and couldn’t wait to tease Bucky. “Damn man. She turned you down like a hotel bed.”

“I love challenges.” Bucky gulped his drink, joining Steve, Sam, Tony, and Thor.

Sam chuckled, “Hey Tin Can, your 40s bullshit won’t work on her. The hottie in the black dress shot him down,” motioning towards a group of ladies having an animated conversation.

Tony snorted, “Who Marisol? You’d stand a better chance talking to the nice lady in HR. You know, Ms. Channing; medium height, support hose, always smells like Ben-Gay?”

Steve, Sam and Thor laughed so hard, tears rolled down their faces. Bucky didn’t find it amusing. This goddess turned James Buchanan Barnes away??

Snapping back, Bucky mused “I’ve always loved a challenge. Game on doll.”

First, he abstained from frivolous flirting and sex. Anytime women attempted to latch onto him, Bucky refused to acknowledge their presence.

Next, Bucky knew in order to make a full 360, he’d make the ultimate sacrifice; torching his expansive library of black books.

Punching the up button, James Buchanan Barnes exhaled and stepped into the elevator. Bucky scrolled through his phone’s playlist, stopping at the mournful tune, ‘Taps.’ Mumbling to himself, “It’s now or never Barnes.”

Upon arrival on the roof, he started a fire in the pit. One by one, Bucky tossed his books into the crackling fire. A lone tear dropped from his eyelash. The time to settle down arrived! He wanted much more than an occasional booty call.

Days, weeks, and months passed. Bucky delivered flowers to Marisol’s office, asked her out for coffee…….nothing.

Tony played matchmaker, inviting Marisol to movie night. Steve and Bucky were last to arrive. They’d completed a rigorous training session.

Engaged in deep conversation about who won, Bucky didn’t see Marisol sitting on the loveseat.

Steve nudged his arm, “Buck, look who’s here.”

Sam taunted the speechless former assassin. “What’s wrong tin can? Cat got your tongue?”

Marisol waved at Bucky, tucking a lock of hair behind her left ear.

Tony, Nat and Wanda took advantage of the moment, snapping a picture of Bucky’s dumbfounded expression.

Steve extended his hand, “Hello I’m Steve Rogers.” “Marisol Kincaid, nice to meet you.”

Tony couldn’t let this priceless moment go without busting Bucky’s chops. “Marisol, Oil Can’s usually not tongue tied. Well, say something?

“H-hello. M’Bucky.” Everyone laughed at his nervous behavior.

“We’ve met remember? Tony’s last party? By the way, I love roses. How did you know?

Bucky responded, “Didn’t know. Lucky guess?”

“Wanna sit with me?” Marisol patted the seat next to her.

Nodding ‘yes’, Bucky flopped down in the seat; a goofy grin plastered on his face.

“Can we start the movie already?” Nat blurted out.

Tonight’s choice selected by Marisol………”The Jaws Collection”

Placing a bowl of popcorn in her lap, Wanda loved Marisol’s movie choices.

Sipping on a beer, Sam set the rules. “Okay kiddies. Light’s out and Barnes, NO NECKING!”

“Shut up Birdboy. You’re just mad. Turn around and watch the movie.

A chorus of ‘shhhhh’ echoed around the room.

Scooting close to Bucky’s side, Marisol whispered, “Would you join me for pizza and ice cream tomorrow?”

Clearly startled, Bucky stammered, “Y-yeah, um I’d like that a lot.”

“I’ll meet you in the common room around 2 p.m. Okay?’

“Okay.” She and Bucky turned towards the movie screen, munching on popcorn and beer.

Sleep eludes him most nights. Bucky would toss and turn from horrific nightmares. After movie night, he slept like a baby.

A bundle of nerves, Steve and Sam tried to calm Bucky down. Unsure of his outfit, Steve recommended a shirt, jeans and boots.

“M’hands are sweatin’ something awful. Maybe I shouldn’t go.” Bucky’s hesitance pissed Sam off.

Sam, rolling his eyes, scolded him, “Look you ancient asshole, you’ve done nothing but talked about this woman for months. Get your clothes on and have fun.”

Bucky shook his head up and down. Steve pushed him towards the shower. He and Sam left the room.

Dressed and ready to go, Bucky inhaled, exhaled, stepping in the elevator.

A vision of loveliness, Marisol sported ripped knee stonewashed skinny jeans, multi-colored sweater that really made her eyes pop, Ugg boots and a leather jacket.

Bucky offered his arm. “Shall we m’lady?”

Giggling, Marisol beamed, “Why yes, kind sir. We shall!”

Bucky and Marisol walked to her favorite pizza parlor, “Dominique’s.” It was quiet and intimate. They ordered pizza and colas. She listened attentively to stories about pre-serum Steves’ wild adventure. No mention of his time in HYDRA’s clutches. In turn, Marisol explained how her family was killed by HYDRA. They were mistaken for another family.

She couldn’t stop the flow of salty liquid rolling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry Bucky. It’s still raw after two years.”

Using his calloused thumb, Bucky wiped the tears from her face. “S’okay doll. I understand.”

Marisol and Bucky enjoyed lazy days, picnics in the backyard of the compound and long walks through Central Park . Although she lived off site, Nick Fury insisted she and her staff move in due to threats from HYDRA.

Bucky was over the moon elated. His best girl one floor down.

Most days though, the lovebirds could be found tangled together, making out like hormonal teenagers.

Tony and Sam didn’t waste the opportunity to annoy Bucky. “Hey Birdman. Look at Veronica and Jughead sucking face.”

Sam added, “Damn would y’all go to your room?”

Grabbing his hand, Marisol pulled Bucky towards his room. “Bye bye haters.”

Nat and Wanda returned from their month long recon mission, Marisol greeted the ladies with a hug.

“Yay, you’re back!!! Go shower and we’ll have girl time,” in her sing-song voice.

Wanda and Nat left the room to shower and prepare for mani/pedis, wine and rom coms.

“I’ll see you later Bucky,” placing a chaste kiss on his pouting lips.

Of course he didn’t mind. Bucky’s love for Marisol grew more and more.

Having been together for almost two years,  Bucky wanted Marisol to become his wife. So, operation “Let’s Get Married” was birthed.

Under the ruse of a 1940s Anthony Stark party, Nat and Wanda coaxed Marisol into an excursion of epic proportion…shopping in New York using Tony Stark’s unlimited credit card..

At the compound, caterers and decorators scurried in the ballroom. A disco ball hung from the ceiling; casting a kaleidoscope of shapes on the wall. Silver and black balloons swayed at the entrance of the room.

The melodic sound of Glenn Miller waft from the speakers. Topping off the affair, Pepper hired them a waiter. On the menu: Duck a l’orange, Sauteed Broccoli, Savory Sage Cornbread Stuffing, Sweet Potatoes with Spiced Butter Pecan Topping. Dessert…LATER!

Nat found the perfect dress, shoes and clutch purse for Marisol.

“Now, skedaddle.  Wanda and I gotta get dressed. Meet us in the ballroom?” Nat smirked.

“See you downstairs.”

Wanda texted Bucky:

W: Marisol’s on the way

Buckaroo: Everything’s all set.

W: Good luck

Buckaroo: I’m really nervous

W: Nat says you’ll be fine

James Buchanan Barnes stood frozen. He was transformed back to the 40s. A tear rolled down his cheek. Marisol was a vision of loveliness.

“My don’t you look handsome Bucky.” Marisol blushed.

Bucky’s voice cracked, “Doll, I can’t begin to say how gorgeous you are. Wow. I’m a lucky man.”

Escorting her to the table, Bucky pulled out Marisol’s chair. “Thank you. Always a gentleman.”

Their elegant meal and champagne were presented. The happy couple dined, laughed, and made small talk savoring every moment.

Bucky raised his glass for a toast. “To the love of my life. You’re more than I could’ve ever hoped for. I’mma better man ‘cause of you.”

Reaching inside his pocket, Bucky took to one knee. “Marisol Kincaid, I’ll love you till the end of time and beyond. No one will ever compare to you. Would you be my wife?”

Unable to hold back tears, she whispered ‘yes.’

Bucky led his fiance’ to the dance floor swaying to Glenn Miller’s “Moonlight Serenade”.  

Showing off some impressive dance moves, the newly engaged couple danced the night away.

Three months later, Bucky and Marisol married in an intimate ceremony. Bruce officiated, Tony and Sam escorted Marisol down the aisle.

Two years after marrying, a chubby cheek baby boy, Anthony Grant Barnes was born.  Weighing 8 lbs. 6 ozs., curly brown hair and bright blue gray eyes.

Of course everyone fawned over him. Bucky couldn’t be prouder. He had a wife, son, and free will.

Snuggled in his daddy’s safe arms, 4 year old Grant peered out the floor length window.

“Daddy, guess what? I love you this much,” stretching his little arms as far as he could.

Bucky’s heart swelled with pride. “Hey tiger, guess what? I love you to the moon and beyond.”

Leaning against the door jamb, Mrs. Barnes admired her two favorite guys.

Spying his mommy, Grant wiggled out his daddy’s arms, running to Marisol. “Hello sweetheart. Are you watching the raindrops?”

“Uh huh. Daddy hold me up to the window. S’lotta rain.”

She walked over, standing next to her husband. “Just think. Next year, we’ll have two kids.”

“Wh-wh-what? I-you-we’re gonna have a baby?”

“Yes, my sweet, I’m 2 months pregnant. Are you excited?”

“You’ve given me so much. I’m the luckiest sap in the face of the earth. Didn’t think happiness would come my way. Now, there’s no way I could live without my family.”

“Yay, I’m gonna have a brudder or sister!!!” Grant jumped around the room.

Bucky placed a kiss on Marisol’s flat tummy. “Hey little one, this is your daddy. Grant and I are excited about meeting ya. Please don’t make mommy sick. See’ya in 7 months peanut!”

Fin

[niallismymuse]

Start of Something More

          Though I would never admit it, being Harry Styles’ best friend has its perks. For one, I’ve been able to travel the world, see sights most people my age only dream of. I’m incredibly blessed, and it’s only because I have an incredible, gifted friend. Also, because of my one incredible, gifted friend, I’ve made other incredible, gifted friends.

           You may have heard of them; they were in a little band called One Direction, which is currently on hiatus as they each branch out and try new things. Because of Harry, I met Louis, Liam, Zayn, and Niall.

           They all hold a special place in my heart, Niall especially. Which is why when I told Harry I was going to see one of Niall’s concerts, he winked cheekily at me, a broad grin stretching across his face. “Should I warn the lad to pack a condom or two?”

           “Harry!” I smacked his arm, my face coloring. Perhaps telling Harry about my crush on his former bandmate was a bad idea. I trusted Harry with my life and soul, but maybe telling him this was too much. “Niall’s my friend too, I want to support him.” It was true. Over several visits on tours, I had grown close to all of the band members, though Niall most of all. It was why I wanted to surprise him at his concert in London.

           Harry waggled his eyebrows at me, and I frowned at him. “Alright, love, make sure you have an excellent time.” He was still teasing me.

           I deflated a little, crossing my arms over my chest. “You won’t tell him, will you? I want it to be a surprise, and it won’t be if you rush off and text him the minute I leave.”

           “I’ve got better things to do than to text Niall about your plans for him, love,” Harry’s voice was a bit wry, and I sighed out in relief.

           “Thank you, Harold. You’re good to me.” I swept my arms around him and held him close, patting his back. I could sense the shit eating grin before I saw it.

           “I am, but you better be good to Niall, too, when you see him.” The innuendo was clear in his voice, and I didn’t feel guilty as I hauled back and smacked his arm again, ignoring his pouty whine after the fact.

           “Shut up, Styles, and take me to brunch.”

             The night of the concert arrived too quickly, and for some reason, I was nervous. I wasn’t sure why, either, since it’s not like I’m the person singing live onstage. Niall didn’t even know that I was coming, and might not even notice me at all, but for some reason I find myself dressing up in a form fitting black dress that goes down to my knees. “You’re dressing up too much for this,” I muttered to myself, but nevertheless, kept the dress on and matched it with some black flats. Like hell I was going to wear heels to a concert; I’m not that extra.

           I kept the makeup simple, and pinned my hair back in a bun. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror I had in my bedroom, and damn, I looked good. Fancy dinner good, not concert good, but it was too late to change, I had to get going if I wanted to get to the venue on time.

           Trying not to overthink, I headed out and got into my car, driving towards the venue. I made good time, and even managed to find a halfway decent parking spot. I walked briskly towards the arena, hoping to God that some of the more eagle-eyed fans wouldn’t notice me. I had been in the pop news sites before, and in some of the band’s pictures; heck, I had even received some death threats when rumors were circulating about Harry and I supposedly dating. I didn’t need anything like that to ruin my night.

           Once I got situated in my seat (orchestra seating; I did my time waiting for tickets just like every other fan), I sat book and took a quick selfie before posting it on Instagram. I wrote out a quick caption: Excited for the show! And tagged Niall in it. I figured he wouldn’t see it until after the show, anyway; he was probably warming up. Maren was due to start shortly.

           Though I wasn’t much of a country fan, I appreciated Maren’s performance and applauded her like everyone else. She was special in her own way; Niall wouldn’t have chosen her otherwise.

           Everyone in the arena was a bit of a nervous wreck waiting for Niall to take the stage. The mood was infectious; I could feel my heart pounding a bit faster in my chest, and I kept gnawing at my lip. I was just so excited to see Niall perform his solo material; he deserved the sun and the moon and the stars, this man. I had listened to his album over and over again in preparation for this night, but I was sure that recorded, it wouldn’t do him justice.

           The arena lights darkened, and the fans erupted into cheers. Niall strode out onto stage, grinning broadly, his guitar strapped to his chest. “’Ello!” He spoke directly into the microphone, his deep voice resonating throughout the stadium. It made my heart jump into my throat a little. He looked so gorgeous and at ease on the stage, a dark gray, long-sleeve shirt clasping to his body like a glove. For once, he wasn’t wearing a hat, and his dark hair shined a bit in the lighting. “Lovely crowd we’ve got here tonight, London! I’m pleased to see ya all here. And with that bein’ said, let’s get started.”

           Niall was pure energy on stage, though in a relaxed way. He constantly engaged with his audience, and crooned his songs like the best of them. Even from my seat, where I stood dancing and swaying with the other fans, I could see the sparkle in his eyes. He loved what he was doing, pure and simple. It was an incredible thing to experience; within the first seconds of his first song, I was swept away into the music.

           Towards the end of the show, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I turned back, startled, only to see a big, burly security guard. “You’ve been requested to come back.”

           Heart pounding in my chest, I followed him out of the crowd and towards backstage. There was nothing else I could do at this point in time. “Did Niall send for me?” I asked, a step or two behind the security guard. He nodded his head, but didn’t say anything else. He was probably annoyed at being sent out like that.

           He left me close to where Niall was performing, but still off to the wings of the stage, where no one from the audience would see me. Niall paused before his final song, and took a long sip from his water bottle, back turned to the crowd. As he spun around to face them once more, we locked eyes. I felt my lips part at the intensity of his gaze; it felt like he was staring right into you, holding you hostage with his eyes. And then the moment broke and he turned back to his audience. “It’s been an incredible night, London. We’re gonna close it out with a favorite of ours.” He grinned cheekily and then ‘Slow Hands’ began.

           I sang along, not able to help it. It was such a sensual song, and a favorite of mine. And Niall got into it, like really into it. There was even a moment where he almost did that crotch-grab he was so fond of in One Direction. But he didn’t do it, even though I was secretly hoping for him too.

           Watching him so closely had me feeling all kinds of things. I pressed my thighs together to ease the slight ache that was staring to build up from the sight of him, and mentally cursed myself for my own weakness. Niall doesn’t even like you that way, what are you getting horny for?! I screamed at myself, but it didn’t matter, because Niall wiggled his hips and I was gone. It didn’t help that I had a great view of his little peach bum from backstage.

           Niall was hot. That was simple, and I really didn’t need to go much more into it. He had changed physically in the years I had known him; he went from a cute boy to a sexy, handsome man, and I was into it. His shoulders had broadened out, his hips were still slim, and his brunette hair spoke to a certain maturity that hadn’t always been there before. Besides, the guy was confident with himself now – just look at his album cover.

           The show ended, and Niall and his band took a bow together, before roaming backstage, directly at me. My heart fluttered in my chest as Niall came straight up to me and wrapped me in those strong arms of his. “Love! Didn’t know you were coming, or else I would have gotten ya better seats!” I felt the scratch of his stubble against my jaw as he pressed a kiss to my cheek and took a step back and smiled at me. “I’ve missed ya.”

           Could he see how red my face was? My heart beat was in my ears, but somehow, someway, I still managed to smile at him. “I’ve missed you too, Niall. What an incredible performance!”

           “Yeah, it was alright,” he chuckled and scratched at the back of his neck. “Listen, I gotta help the band clean up, but I’ll take you to my dressing room and you can wait for me there, okay? We’ll hang out.”

           I nodded my head quickly. “Yeah, of course.” With that being said, Niall offered me his arm, and I tucked mine through his, grinning foolishly as he led me down the hall. He was so goofy; it was why I had fallen for him in the first place.

           Niall helped me get comfortable on a plush couch situated in the middle of the dressing room he was given, and then left with a few dozen promises of, “I’ll be back, love!”. I could have sworn I heard him call someone else a wanker as he left the room, his loud cackle echoing back to me.

           So. Here I was in Niall’s dressing room. This wasn’t really where I figured the night would go at all; I didn’t think he would know I had been there until after. I should have posted the selfie after the concert, he must have seen it and known I was there because of it.

           My mind wandered while I waited, legs crossed and hands clasped on my lap. I hadn’t seen Niall in quite a few months, since my job was centered in London, and Niall spent quite a lot of time in LA. With all of the album promo, he had been going all over the US as well. Not that we didn’t stay in contact; I had his number, he had mine, and in fact, we had talked a few days ago without mentioning his concert.

           There was a knock on the door and I jumped, standing up. “Um…come in?”

           It was Niall. “Hey,” he said as he popped in, grinning widely.

           “Why did you knock for your own dressing room?”

           He tilted his head to the side, thinking about it. “Dunno. Wanna come back to my place and have a drink with me?”

           That sounded wonderful, actually, and I nodded my head quickly. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

           Niall led me outside, and side-eyed me as we walked towards the stadium exit. “I’m assuming you drove here, yeah?” When I nodded my head, he stopped. “Well, I’m with the band, so my car is out back. I’ll walk you to yours and give you directions to my place, okay?”

           “Oh, Niall, you don’t need to walk me. There will be fans out in the parking lot, and they’ll see you and go mad.” And see me, I added in my head. That wouldn’t bode well for either of us. “Just give me your address and I’ll meet you there, okay?”

           Niall mulled it over and nodded his head. “Sounds good, yeah,” he said and I pulled my phone out, allowing him to type his address in. I had been to his London house once or twice, but not recently, so I definitely needed directions. I plugged it into maps, waved at him, and started off towards my car without looking back.

           Once I hopped in my car, I followed the directions my mobile told me, and arrived outside of his gate. Luckily, I had heard my phone chime with a text earlier, and as I had guessed, it was the gate key. I pushed it in and drove through the gates, parking out of the way so Niall could get in. At that point, I had beaten him somehow (London traffic was awful, so I was surprised we hadn’t arrived together), so there was nothing for me to do but stare out at his large, two-story house.

           It was elegant, and modern, and the landscaping was nice. I didn’t know much about houses, but even I could tell that this was a nice one, and right expensive.

           I heard the gates open behind me, and I turned in my seat to watch Niall’s Range drive in seamlessly. I got out, my flats crunching a bit on the gravel driveway. Niall got out as well and grinned that infectious grin of his, and nodded towards his front door. “Come in, would ya?”

           I laughed, smiling wide enough that my cheeks hurt. “That’s why I bloody came here, you daft moron.”

           “Oi!”

           Giggling, I walked up to his front door with him, watching as he unlocked the door. I kicked my shoes off and left them by the door, and watched as he took his own black Chelsea boots and neatly placed them in a row. Then he took my flats and placed them alongside his own. “Still anal as always, I see.”

           Niall flashed me a glare, before clicking his tongue. “I invite you to my home, and all you’ve done is insult me so far.”

           I shrugged. “You’re easy to insult.”

           Barking out a laugh, Niall shook his head, and padded off past the entranceway to the kitchen. “I’m grabbin’ a Stella. Want one?”

           “But of course.”

           I followed behind him, looking over his house. It was as neat as ever, carefully cleaned. Niall was a bit neurotic about his cleaning, something I discovered on tour. He was meticulously neat compared to the other lads, who were absolute disasters with someone cleaning up after them. Niall cleaned up after himself, kept his clothes neatly folded, and even bothered the others to do the same. Some things didn’t change.

           Niall popped the lid off and handed me the bottle, before grabbing one for his own. “How have you been?” He asked, eyes locked on mine as he took a long sip of his beer, Adam’s apple bobbing. Leaning against his counter, I updated him on my job and how our mutual social circles were. He listened, letting out a chuckle here and there at the stupidly ridiculous stories I told about our idiot friends. And he kept his eyes on mine the entire time I talked. It was a good feeling.

           “It’s good to see you,” I said later as we reclined on his couch, a couple Stella’s in. “Like, really good to see you.”

           Niall chuckled, eyes flashing at you from across the couch. You were both leaned against an opposite arm rest, his sock-covered feet bumping and rubbing against your own bare ones. “It’s really great to see you, love. I’ve missed ya.”

           “You’ve said that,” I replied, smiling as I bumped my toes against his.

           “Well, it’s true. You’re a good friend of mine, and – “ Here he paused and swallowed, eyes looking a bit conflicted. I sat up a bit more, interested in what he was cutting off. I bit at my lower lip, looking at him, my eyes a bit wide.

           “And what, Niall?”

           He let out a puff of air. “And nothin’. Just missed you.” He tossed a lopsided smile at me and then proceeded to tug at the fringe of his hair with his fingers, taking another sip of his Stella to cut his own sentence off.

           I narrowed my eyes at him. Something was definitely off. I lunged forward, pressing myself into his lap, my motions a bit sloppy from how tipsy I was. My face was inches away from his; I could feel his rapid breaths against my cheek as our eyes locked. There was a little alarm bell going off in my head – this was too close, I needed to back off, but I couldn’t do it. There was something delicious in this contact we had, in feeling his thigh pressed against my knee, how close our chests were to touching. How close our lips were to touching. “Alright, Horan, what the fuck is going on in your head?” I demanded, keeping my gaze locked on his.

           Niall bit at his lip, which I instantly hated him for, because it only drew my attention down to his very kissable, pink lips. Damn his lips. “Love…ya just don’t understand.”

           My eyes narrowed once more. “So make me understand.”

           Niall looked away from me at that point, and swallowed harshly. He leaned back a bit away from me, which stung a bit, but he didn’t seemed to have done it to get away. He had a thoughtful face on, his brows furrowed, though he looked a bit stressed at the same time. Finally, Niall looked back at me, his clear blue eyes connecting with mine. “I like you.”

           I sat back a bit, falling off of his legs and onto the couch, mostly from the drinks. “Of course you like me. You’re my friend.” Niall huffed out a sigh at my answer and pulled at his hair again, hard enough that I was briefly concerned that he would just yank it all out. He leaned forward, bunching his legs under him, and grabbed at my hand.

           “No, you daft moron,” he joked, bringing back my words from earlier, “well, yes, I like you as a friend, but I also like you…more than a friend.”

           It felt like my heart had just swelled in my chest and burst. This couldn’t be real. Niall…liked me? Like I liked him? How could this be real life? This was beyond my wildest hopes and dreams. Probably taking my silence as a negative response, he rushed on. “But if you don’t return my feelings, that’s okay, you’ll never hear it again from me and-“

           I cut him off by pressing my lips to his own. My hand cupped his jaw, fingers running affectionately against his skin. Niall was frozen for a moment, body tense, but then he relaxed under me, his arms rising up and around me, melding into me. His lips parted slightly, and I was home. That was honestly the way I felt as his lips moved with mine, as he explored me with the vigor I had always hoped for. It was everything.

           Moments or hours later, I pulled back, gasping for air with my cheeks aflame. Niall didn’t care, his lips simply reattached themselves to the skin of my neck, an open-mouthed kiss that went straight to my core. A rush of wetness suddenly flooded my panties, and I moaned aloud at the sensation of Niall’s teeth gently nipping at my skin. This man was getting me all riled up, but as I adjusted myself on his lap, I could feel his length starting to fatten up beneath me. Experimentally, I rocked my hips, and listened as Niall let out a quiet grunt in response. “Christ on a bicycle, woman,” he muttered.

           I giggled, pleased with the response, even as Niall pushed his hips against mine, needily rutting up into me. My body felt on fire; zips and licks of flame shooting from my toes, up.

           “I want you,” I leaned forward to whisper, nipping gently at his ear.

           “Fuck, darlin’, I want you to,” Niall replied, his fingers gripping tight into the flesh of my hips. I leaned forward to eagerly press my lips to his, but Niall leaned back away from me. Stung, I settled back away from him. His chest was heaving; he took a few steadying breaths to calm himself. When he looked at me, I could see his pupils had bled into the beautiful blue color of his eyes. “But…I don’t want to do this to ya.”

           Confused, I frowned at him. “What do you mean, ‘do this to me’? I quite want it, myself.”

           Niall sighed deeply and used both hands to rub at his face, a bit roughly. “I’m only in London for another day or two, and they’re both packed full of interviews and promo. I don’t think I can hang out with you, and I don’t want to fuck you and send you off with a ‘see ya later’. And we’ve both had a bit to drink, I don’t want ya to regret this. I want to do this properly, petal. I want to take you out on dates, kiss you in the moonlight, cuddle on the couch…but I can’t do that yet.”

           Understanding lit through me, and for some reason, it made my eyes water. I sniffled and leaned away. Niall practically flinched at the sight of my tears. “Oh, no, please don’t cry! I want you, I promise I do!”

           “It’s not that,” I hiccupped. Definitely too much to drink. “You’re just so…so sweet, and I can’t handle it!”

           Niall let out a deep chuckle at my explanation, and I felt the rough palm of his hand curl against my cheek. My eyes closed, and I savored the feeling of his touch on my skin. “Okay. When I come back, love, will you go out on a proper date with me?”

           My eyes flew open. “Of course! Niall, I nearly fucked you on the couch a minute ago, I’m not about to turn down a date.”

           A loud bark of a laugh worked its way out of his chest, and Niall’s head tipped back in pure mirth. I let out a laugh of my own, thrilled to chase such a reaction out of him. Not that it was hard; Niall laughed easily and frequently, even at himself. Especially at himself.

           “Proper date it is, then,” Niall chuckled out and I nodded, smiling widely with glee.

           I leaned in and pressed a kiss to his scratchy cheek. “It’s a good thing I came to your concert. It feels like this is the start of something more, y’know?”

           Niall’s responding smile was soft, his eyes crinkling a bit at the edges. His pupils had returned to their normal state; there was that beautiful, clear blue I loved. “I have to agree.”

[plaidstiel-wormstache]

Finding Home

This is for Becka @beckawinchester and Johanna’s @boredoutofmymindwriting Challenge ... hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it. Prompt - “He knew that he was home when her lips touched his.” Song - Free Fallin’ by John Mayer Word Count - 2511 Characters - Jensen x Reader, Jason Manns, Rob, Rich and so on... Warnings - none I hope; fluff, hints at smut, more fluff Summary - It’s nice when you find someone you’re so at home with, so comfortable with, but can still surprise. A/N - Let’s pretend Daneel is living her happily-ever-after with someone else. Thank you to the wonderful @avasmommy224 for beta-ing! And a shout out to @whispersandwhiskerburn just for putting up with me!

He’s a good boy, loves his mama, loves Jesus and America too. He’s a good boy, crazy ‘bout Elvis, loves horses and his girlfriend too. YN had her headphones in and was singing away to her favourite song as she scrubbed the kitchen sink. She’d managed to clean the whole house. Jensen would think it was because he was arriving home, not that her nerves were getting the best of her.

It’s a long day living in Reseda, there’s a freeway runnin’ through the yard. I’m a bad girl ‘cause I don’t even miss him, I’m a bad girl for breaking his heart. Jensen pulled the suitcase from the trunk and wheeled it to the door, finding it was unlocked, as always if she was home. No matter how many times he begged her to lock it, she seemed to always forget. And I’m free, free fallin’, fallin’. And I’m free, free fallin’, fallin’. He placed his case inside the door and followed her voice, she was singing. He loved to hear her sing. He wished she’d come and record for Jason, he’d even suggested a duet, but she wouldn’t, she’d get nervous just at the mention. She tried to record something for him once, but her anxiety took over and she almost threw up. Jensen leaned against the doorway and watched her as she washed out the sink of bleach she’d been scrubbing with. All the vampires walkin’ through the valley, they move western down Ventura boulevard. And all the bad boys standing in the shadows, and the good girls are home with broken hearts. He smiled as she wiped at her face with her shoulder and arm, catching a glimpse of him in her peripheral. She jumped, spinning. She pushed the inside of her wrist to her chest and shed the glove from her other hand, ripping out an earphone. “Baby!” She squealed. “Did I scare you?” He asked, the slight chuckle from knowing he had, only built when she shoved him in the chest. “Why didn’t you say something?” She asked, finally free of the other glove and headphone, she pulled him back to her by twirling a finger in the hem of his shirt. She slid her fingers over his chest, snaking her hands over his shoulders and around his neck. And just like a practised routine, Jensen bent to meet her awaiting lips with his, wrapping his hands under her thighs and lifting her with ease, wrapping her legs around his waist. “How long are you back for?” She asked, leaning away from his lips, brushing his nose with hers. “Tonight, conventions start tomorrow.” He breathed, it was a tough life, coming and going. She had her job, friends, and life here and he was constantly on the road. But every time he was home, or she came to visit, they spent every second together, they’d even bought this house together. But all this time apart meant that YN could get up to mischief, she’d known he was starting the convention circuit now, knew he was more than a little annoyed that he only had one night with her. So, with Jason’s help, she recorded a demo of his favourite song. With Rob and Rich’s help, she was joining the convention. Little did Jensen know, she’d taken the next five months off, partly for him, partly for the expansion of her company into Vancouver. And with more help from friends, she had a little something up her sleeve, if only the butterflies and the doubt would ebb long enough. “So we better make the most of it.” She breathed against him, he smiled and fit their lips back together, like the puzzle pieces they were.

“YNN, let…” Jensen chuckled as he tried to gently pry your fingers open from where they’d locked behind his neck. “No. They have you for long enough.” She pouted into the crook of his neck. “You’re stronger than I remember.” Jensen said, resting for a moment, awkwardly across the top of your body on the bed, his feet still planted to the floor. “Please don’t go.” She whispered against his collarbone, relinquishing her grip. He held himself up, hovering over her, searching her eyes. “Need me to stay?” He asked, she could see how serious the question was. She sighed and reached up, letting her lips linger against his till her muscles ached and her neck threatened to seize up. “They need you. I want you.” She murmured against his lips, pecking them one last time. “I love you.” He said, pushing his lips against her forehead before he stood up. He cupped her cheek with his hand, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone as he memorised the look of her, naked under his gaze, warm and blushing for him. She turned her head into his palm, holding his hand in place as she planted a kiss in the center, then folded his fingers around it. “Hold on to it for me.” She made him promise and he nodded. “Now, Mr. Ackles, go or else you’ll be late.” She warned, kicking at his bottom as he walked around the bed. He stopped at the door and looked back at her, she raised an eyebrow at him, they both chuckled after a moment of silence and he turned, shaking his head. She got up and watched him from the window, still naked as he looked up while climbing into the car, he smiled and winked. It didn’t go unnoticed that he still had his fist clenched around her kiss.

“Hey Rob, how you doing?” She answered the phone as she collected her luggage off the carousel. “Where are you?” He asked, it sounded like it had all kicked off already. “Just got off the plane. They already on?” She asked, hearing Jared’s distant laugh through speakers, the question answered itself. “Yeah, Jason said he’d collect you. He’ll run over the song a few times and get you in without anyone seeing.” Rob answered, she could hear Rich in the background, second last question, I’ll go find our lucky last. “Thanks Rob, for everything.” She said goodbye and hang up, tucking the phone into her pocket, she looked over her bags, satisfied she had everything, she wheeled out to the awaiting families, friends and cabbies. Sure enough Jason was there with a sign SUPERSTAR. She smiled and navigated through the crowds over to him. “Really?” She asked, nodding at the sign after hugs and kisses were exchanged. He took her large bag and guided her to the exit. “Thought you’d get a kick outta that!” He smiled. Once in the car he put on her demo and insisted they go over it. She sung, timid at first, but with a nice long pep talk from Jason, she belted it out the second time round. “Nice, we’ll get you recording for real, yet!” He said, nudging her arm with his elbow. She shook her head, letting her Y/C/H hair hide her reddening cheeks. “Can we listen to anything else, I swear this song has been the only thing I’ve listened to for months.” She whined, turning their attention to anything else. Jason punched a button on the dash and the radio blared ‘Proud Mary’ at them, they shared a smile before joining in, happy and carefree, her nerves settled for the moment.

The band played their last note, Rob swung his guitar and everyone finished. YN was watching from the very back of the room, standing behind one of Cliff’s men, Steve. Rob pushed his guitar round to his back and stepped back to the microphone. “We should make a move.” Steve whispered over his shoulder, pushing the door behind her open. “Please welcome to the stage, Jensen Ackles.” Rob’s voice echoed through the speakers just as Steve ushered her out. She turned around and pouted at him as he nudged her forward while chuckling. “You’d be surprised at just how perceptive he is to an audience.” Steve promised, but she knew that all too well already. “You can wait in the green room, he won’t be back till the songs over.” Steve explained, opening the door to the open room that housed most of the bored cast. “YNN!” Jared called, crossing the room and hoisting her into a bear hug, lifting her off the ground. “Nice to see you too, big guy!” She laughed, her arms were pinned by her side as he squeezed her tight. “I thought you were working?” Misha said, looking at Steve and Jared as he pecked her cheek. “So does Jensen, please don’t say anything!” She begged, he gave a sly smile and nodded. “YN! What are you doing here?” Kim asked, jumping out of her seat to pull YN into a swaying hug. “Trying to surprise Ackles!” YN answered, collapsing onto the sofa between Brianna and Matt. “Hey, YNN?” Rich called as he came through the door that lead to the stage. YN put her hands out for Rich to pull her up from the couch, which he did and straight into a hug. “Jason asked me to run through warm ups with you…” He pulled a face as he saw the colour drop from hers. “Just breathe, YNN. Remember why you’re here.” Jared was suddenly whispering reassurances in her ear, thankful she had a friend like him. She squeezed the hand on her shoulder and nodded at Rich.

Jason’s prepared something special for us, so while we take a breather, please make him feel welcome! Rich introduced before placing the mic next to Jason, who was already seated and setting up his guitar. The crowd quieted down as Jason tapped the mic. “Howdy y’all, thanks for having me.” The band behind Jason squeezed past YN on their way off stage, all patting her back and wishing her good luck. Jensen and Rob were still on stage, meandering back as Jensen wasn’t aware of the switch up of plans. “Do y’all mind if I bring a special someone out here?” Jason asked, the crowd whooped and applauded in agreeance, “Thanks! She’s someone I’ve wanted to work with for ages, she’s a last minute addition to the show…” Jason looked round at Rob who whispered something into Jensen’s ear, his jaw dropped. “Please give a warm, Jax welcome to YFN YLN!” He called, holding his hand out to the side of the stage, Rich gave YN a push out into the light. All the nerves and butterflies and doubting voices had assured her it would be terrifying, that she’d see disapproving faces and the lights would be too bright. But it wasn’t. The audience was screaming and cheering and whistling, but she couldn’t see their faces, the lights made the room in front of the stage black, yet they didn’t blind her. She smiled at Jason and waved at the anonymous pit of applause. Rob was walking toward her, leaving a dumbfounded Jensen standing on the side of the stage. “You’ll smash it.” Rob whispered as he pecked her cheek on the way past, she winked at him and continued over to Jason, patting him on the shoulder, collecting her microphone, ignoring her statue of a boyfriend for the moment. “Hey y’all! Thanks for having me!” The crowd cheered again, a few people yelled out different welcoming phrases. YN turned to Jason and nodded, he smiled and began strumming, she looked over at Jensen then, holding one of her hands out to the side. “Surprise baby! This is for you!” He’s a good boy, loves his mama, loves Jesus and America too. YN began, enjoying the shocked look on her man’s face, but there was an audience and they deserved a show if you were gonna interrupt their paid weekend. He’s a good boy, crazy ‘bout Elvis, loves horses and his girlfriend too, yeah, yeah. YN really got into it on stage, broke free from her stand by Jason’s side and moved across the stage, relishing in the fans singing along to the chorus. Now I’m free fallin’, now I’m free fallin’... I wanna glide down over Mulholland, I wanna write his name in the sky. I wanna free fall out into nothing, I’m gonna leave this world for a while. Now I’m free, free fallin’, fallin’ Free fallin’... YN finishes, letting Jason playout the ending. Once the last note from the guitar fades, it’s silent for a moment, no one moves, no one breathes, then the room erupts. Jason removes his guitar and places it in the stand, bringing her into a tight hug, whispering congratulations and how she HAS to record for him now. Jensen crosses the stage, mouth open. He’s speechless, and Jensen speechless is truly a compliment. He lifts her in his arms, his mouth moulded to hers, hoping beyond hope that he’s conveying everything through touch as words would not do him justice. He releases her lips and lets her slide down his body till she’s on her feet. She brings the mic she hadn’t let go of, back up to her mouth. “I believe you have something of mine.” She says clearly, no one in the room understands except for him. He smiles and brings his fist around from her back. The room goes quiet as he releases her and brings his hand between them, opening his fingers, one by one till his palm is facing her. A simple ring in the center of his hand. No one else can see what she can, they don’t understand the reason she almost drops the mic, or why her eyes begin to water. Then he gets down on one knee. There are shouts, whistles, cries, and sobs from the crowd as he takes the mic from her hand and gives it to Jason who’s still on stage, Jason positions it between the couple. “YFN YLN, would you do me the absolute honour, of becoming my need.” He asks, beaming up at her, tears flowing from both their eyes, another small comment only they and close friends would understand. “My want an’ need.” She answers, pulling his face up to hers, pecking his lips several times, running her thumb under his eyes to wipe away the tears. He slips the ring on to her finger, then pulls her back to him, cradling her in his arms, so tight that her molecules might just shift and fit together with his to form one perfect combination. “Did you just say wanton need?” He whispered into her ear so only she would hear, he felt her lips pull up into a smile as her head faintly nodded yes. “I didn’t tell you, the business is expanding to Vancouver, we’ll actually have a home that we both live in.” She said, pulling back to look into his eyes, searching for a sign that this was another good surprise. Fresh tears spilled over as he pressed his lips back to hers. But it doesn’t matter where they live for he knew that he was home when her lips touched his.

Tagging: @impala-dreamer@jalove-wecallhimdean@whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname@melonberri@percywinchester27@avasmommy224@wayward-mirage@waywardjoy@wi-deangirl77@sdavid09@ellexirmalfoy@bringmesomepie56@babypieandwhiskey@kristaparadowski@gabby913@charliebradbury1104@blacktithe7@thegreatficmaster@impala-dreamer!@mrswhozeewhatsis@i-like-your-assbutt@yoursmilemakesmeloveyou@chaos-and-the-calm67@frenchybell@chvalkenberg95@ackleholic-hunter@green-love-red-fantasyhearts@impalaimagining@leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid@lucifer-in-leather@manawhaat@nichelle-my-belle@lipstickandwhiskey@grace-for-sale@hasta-impalasta@hideyourdemoneyes@oriona75@ilostmyshoe-79@eyes-of-a-disney-princess@kazchester-fanfiction@ellen-reincarnated1967@beckawinchester@notnaturalanahi@jalove-wecallhimdean@autopistaaningunaparte@loveitsallineed@mogaruke @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @purgatoan @clairese1980

[buckybarnesappreciationsociety]

“Lazy Days and You”

Summary: Love carries no expiration date. All you know is, with a little luck and fairy dust, you’ll feel Cupid’s arrow!  Redemption and love...two vital ingredients for joy!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Marisol Kincaid

OFC: Steve, Nat, Sam, Wanda, Tony and Anthony Grant Barnes (eventually)

Warning: Redemption and happyness (misspelled on purpose)

Word Count: 1,882

A/N: My entry in Taw’s 3k Writing Challenge. Congratulations my friend. You’re a sweetheart. Enjoy!

Master List

An Avenger has little to no time for a relationship. Clint and Laura’s marriage is exception to the rule. With each mission, moments of uncertainty looms overhead. What if they were mortally wounded or killed? No one deserved to constantly be on edge.

Happiness eluded James Buchanan Barnes like the plague. So, he resorted to playing the field. Pretty soon, he amassed quite the reputation. Bucky Barnes, lady killer.

Marisol Kincaid wasn’t an Avenger. Her position at Stark Industries lacked adventure and danger. As supervisor over the Records Room, Marisol ensured staff uploaded pertinent HYDRA data, via computer into F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s data bank for storage. Also, Marisol personally transferred delicate notes onto a USB, where they were sealed and placed in Tony’s private safe…..off site.

Tony found a reason to throw one of his over-the-top parties. Standing at the bar with Steve, Bucky scanned the crowd for this elusive woman whose peaked his curiosity.

Greeting her friends, Marisol strolled to the bar. “Jack straight please.”

Turning on the charm, Bucky attempted to reel her in. “Jack straight? Pretty ballsy drink for a dame. What’s your name sweet thing?

Rolling her eyes, Marisol shot him down. “My name’s not important Mr. Barnes. Yes, I know all about your womanizing reputation and I will not be another notch in your bedpost. Have a good evening.”

Sam witnessed the exchange and couldn’t wait to tease Bucky. “Damn man. She turned you down like a hotel bed.”

“I love challenges.” Bucky gulped his drink, joining Steve, Sam, Tony, and Thor.

Sam chuckled, “Hey Tin Can, your 40s bullshit won’t work on her. The hottie in the black dress shot him down,” motioning towards a group of ladies having an animated conversation.

Tony snorted, “Who Marisol? You’d stand a better chance talking to the nice lady in HR. You know, Ms. Channing; medium height, support hose, always smells like Ben-Gay?”

Steve, Sam and Thor laughed so hard, tears rolled down their faces. Bucky didn’t find it amusing. This goddess turned James Buchanan Barnes away??

Snapping back, Bucky mused “I’ve always loved a challenge. Game on doll.”

First, he abstained from frivolous flirting and sex. Anytime women attempted to latch onto him, Bucky refused to acknowledge their presence.

Next, Bucky knew in order to make a full 360, he’d make the ultimate sacrifice; torching his expansive library of black books.

Punching the up button, James Buchanan Barnes exhaled and stepped into the elevator. Bucky scrolled through his phone’s playlist, stopping at the mournful tune, ‘Taps.’ Mumbling to himself, “It’s now or never Barnes.”

Upon arrival on the roof, he started a fire in the pit. One by one, Bucky tossed his books into the crackling fire. A lone tear dropped from his eyelash. The time to settle down arrived! He wanted much more than an occasional booty call.

Days, weeks, and months passed. Bucky delivered flowers to Marisol’s office, asked her out for coffee…….nothing.

Tony played matchmaker, inviting Marisol to movie night. Steve and Bucky were last to arrive. They’d completed a rigorous training session.

Engaged in deep conversation about who won, Bucky didn’t see Marisol sitting on the loveseat.

Steve nudged his arm, “Buck, look who’s here.”

Sam taunted the speechless former assassin. “What’s wrong tin can? Cat got your tongue?”

Marisol waved at Bucky, tucking a lock of hair behind her left ear.

Tony, Nat and Wanda took advantage of the moment, snapping a picture of Bucky’s dumbfounded expression.

Steve extended his hand, “Hello I’m Steve Rogers.” “Marisol Kincaid, nice to meet you.”

Tony couldn’t let this priceless moment go without busting Bucky’s chops. “Marisol, Oil Can’s usually not tongue tied. Well, say something?

“H-hello. M’Bucky.” Everyone laughed at his nervous behavior.

“We’ve met remember? Tony’s last party? By the way, I love roses. How did you know?

Bucky responded, “Didn’t know. Lucky guess?”

“Wanna sit with me?” Marisol patted the seat next to her.

Nodding ‘yes’, Bucky flopped down in the seat; a goofy grin plastered on his face.

“Can we start the movie already?” Nat blurted out.

Tonight’s choice selected by Marisol………”The Jaws Collection”

Placing a bowl of popcorn in her lap, Wanda loved Marisol’s movie choices.

Sipping on a beer, Sam set the rules. “Okay kiddies. Light’s out and Barnes, NO NECKING!”

“Shut up Birdboy. You’re just mad. Turn around and watch the movie.

A chorus of ‘shhhhh’ echoed around the room.

Scooting close to Bucky’s side, Marisol whispered, “Would you join me for pizza and ice cream tomorrow?”

Clearly startled, Bucky stammered, “Y-yeah, um I’d like that a lot.”

“I’ll meet you in the common room around 2 p.m. Okay?’

“Okay.” She and Bucky turned towards the movie screen, munching on popcorn and beer.

Sleep eludes him most nights. Bucky would toss and turn from horrific nightmares. After movie night, he slept like a baby.

A bundle of nerves, Steve and Sam tried to calm Bucky down. Unsure of his outfit, Steve recommended a shirt, jeans and boots.

“M’hands are sweatin’ something awful. Maybe I shouldn’t go.” Bucky’s hesitance pissed Sam off.

Sam, rolling his eyes, scolded him, “Look you ancient asshole, you’ve done nothing but talked about this woman for months. Get your clothes on and have fun.”

Bucky shook his head up and down. Steve pushed him towards the shower. He and Sam left the room.

Dressed and ready to go, Bucky inhaled, exhaled, stepping in the elevator.

A vision of loveliness, Marisol sported ripped knee stonewashed skinny jeans, multi-colored sweater that really made her eyes pop, Ugg boots and a leather jacket.

Bucky offered his arm. “Shall we m’lady?”

Giggling, Marisol beamed, “Why yes, kind sir. We shall!”

Bucky and Marisol walked to her favorite pizza parlor, “Dominique’s.” It was quiet and intimate. They ordered pizza and colas. She listened attentively to stories about pre-serum Steves’ wild adventure. No mention of his time in HYDRA’s clutches. In turn, Marisol explained how her family was killed by HYDRA. They were mistaken for another family.

She couldn’t stop the flow of salty liquid rolling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry Bucky. It’s still raw after two years.”

Using his calloused thumb, Bucky wiped the tears from her face. “S’okay doll. I understand.”

Marisol and Bucky enjoyed lazy days, picnics in the backyard of the compound and long walks through Central Park . Although she lived off site, Nick Fury insisted she and her staff move in due to threats from HYDRA.

Bucky was over the moon elated. His best girl one floor down.

Most days though, the lovebirds could be found tangled together, making out like hormonal teenagers.

Tony and Sam didn’t waste the opportunity to annoy Bucky. “Hey Birdman. Look at Veronica and Jughead sucking face.”

Sam added, “Damn would y’all go to your room?”

Grabbing his hand, Marisol pulled Bucky towards his room. “Bye bye haters.”

Nat and Wanda returned from their month long recon mission, Marisol greeted the ladies with a hug.

“Yay, you’re back!!! Go shower and we’ll have girl time,” in her sing-song voice.

Wanda and Nat left the room to shower and prepare for mani/pedis, wine and rom coms.

“I’ll see you later Bucky,” placing a chaste kiss on his pouting lips.

Of course he didn’t mind. Bucky’s love for Marisol grew more and more.

Having been together for almost two years,  Bucky wanted Marisol to become his wife. So, operation “Let’s Get Married” was birthed.

Under the ruse of a 1940s Anthony Stark party, Nat and Wanda coaxed Marisol into an excursion of epic proportion…shopping in New York using Tony Stark’s unlimited credit card..

At the compound, caterers and decorators scurried in the ballroom. A disco ball hung from the ceiling; casting a kaleidoscope of shapes on the wall. Silver and black balloons swayed at the entrance of the room.

The melodic sound of Glenn Miller waft from the speakers. Topping off the affair, Pepper hired them a waiter. On the menu: Duck a l’orange, Sauteed Broccoli, Savory Sage Cornbread Stuffing, Sweet Potatoes with Spiced Butter Pecan Topping. Dessert…LATER!

Nat found the perfect dress, shoes and clutch purse for Marisol.

“Now, skedaddle.  Wanda and I gotta get dressed. Meet us in the ballroom?” Nat smirked.

“See you downstairs.”

Wanda texted Bucky:

W: Marisol’s on the way

Buckaroo: Everything’s all set.

W: Good luck

Buckaroo: I’m really nervous

W: Nat says you’ll be fine

James Buchanan Barnes stood frozen. He was transformed back to the 40s. A tear rolled down his cheek. Marisol was a vision of loveliness.

“My don’t you look handsome Bucky.” Marisol blushed.

Bucky’s voice cracked, “Doll, I can’t begin to say how gorgeous you are. Wow. I’m a lucky man.”

Escorting her to the table, Bucky pulled out Marisol’s chair. “Thank you. Always a gentleman.”

Their elegant meal and champagne were presented. The happy couple dined, laughed, and made small talk savoring every moment.

Bucky raised his glass for a toast. “To the love of my life. You’re more than I could’ve ever hoped for. I’mma better man ‘cause of you.”

Reaching inside his pocket, Bucky took to one knee. “Marisol Kincaid, I’ll love you till the end of time and beyond. No one will ever compare to you. Would you be my wife?”

Unable to hold back tears, she whispered ‘yes.’

Bucky led his fiance’ to the dance floor swaying to Glenn Miller’s “Moonlight Serenade”.  

Showing off some impressive dance moves, the newly engaged couple danced the night away.

Three months later, Bucky and Marisol married in an intimate ceremony. Bruce officiated, Tony and Sam escorted Marisol down the aisle.

Two years after marrying, a chubby cheek baby boy, Anthony Grant Barnes was born.  Weighing 8 lbs. 6 ozs., curly brown hair and bright blue gray eyes.

Of course everyone fawned over him. Bucky couldn’t be prouder. He had a wife, son, and free will.

Snuggled in his daddy’s safe arms, 4 year old Grant peered out the floor length window.

“Daddy, guess what? I love you this much,” stretching his little arms as far as he could.

Bucky’s heart swelled with pride. “Hey tiger, guess what? I love you to the moon and beyond.”

Leaning against the door jamb, Mrs. Barnes admired her two favorite guys.

Spying his mommy, Grant wiggled out his daddy’s arms, running to Marisol. “Hello sweetheart. Are you watching the raindrops?”

“Uh huh. Daddy hold me up to the window. S’lotta rain.”

She walked over, standing next to her husband. “Just think. Next year, we’ll have two kids.”

“Wh-wh-what? I-you-we’re gonna have a baby?”

“Yes, my sweet, I’m 2 months pregnant. Are you excited?”

“You’ve given me so much. I’m the luckiest sap in the face of the earth. Didn’t think happiness would come my way. Now, there’s no way I could live without my family.”

“Yay, I’m gonna have a brudder or sister!!!” Grant jumped around the room chanting.

Bucky placed a kiss on Marisol’s flat tummy. “Hey little one, this is your daddy. Grant and I are excited about meeting ya. Please don’t make mommy sick. See’ya in 7 months peanut!”

Fin

@supersoldierslover @omalleysgirl22 @rebelslicious @pegasusdragontiger @magellan-88 @suz-123 @bolontiku @3brosangel @papi-chulo-bucky @irene-rogue-adler

[buckybarnesappreciationsociety]

Lazy Dayz and You (Masterlist Revision)

Summary: Love carries no expiration date. All you know is, with a little luck and fairy dust, you’ll feel Cupid’s arrow!  Redemption and love...two vital ingredients for joy!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Marisol Kincaid

OFC: Steve, Nat, Sam, Wanda, Tony and Anthony Grant Barnes (eventually)

Warning: Redemption and happyness (misspelled on purpose)

Word Count: 1,882

A/N: My entry in Taw’s 3k Writing Challenge. Congratulations my friend.  You’re a sweetheart. Enjoy!

An Avenger has little to no time for a relationship. Clint and Laura’s marriage is exception to the rule. With each mission, moments of uncertainty looms overhead. What if they were mortally wounded or killed? No one deserved to constantly be on edge.

Happiness eluded James Buchanan Barnes like the plague. So, he resorted to playing the field. Pretty soon, he amassed quite the reputation. Bucky Barnes, lady killer.

Marisol Kincaid wasn’t an Avenger. Her position at Stark Industries lacked adventure and danger. As supervisor over the Records Room, Marisol ensured staff uploaded pertinent HYDRA data, via computer into F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s data bank for storage. Also, Marisol personally transferred delicate notes onto a USB, where they were sealed and placed in Tony’s private safe…..off site.

Tony found a reason to throw one of his over-the-top parties. Standing at the bar with Steve, Bucky scanned the crowd for this elusive woman whose peaked his curiosity.

Greeting her friends, Marisol strolled to the bar. “Jack straight please.”

Turning on the charm, Bucky attempted to reel her in. “Jack straight? Pretty ballsy drink for a dame.”

Rolling her eyes, Marisol shot him down. “II know all about your womanizing reputation and I will not be another notch in your bedpost. Have a good evening.”

Sam witnessed the exchange and couldn’t wait to tease Bucky. “Damn man. She turned you down like a hotel bed.”

“I love challenges.” Bucky gulped his drink, joining Steve, Sam, Tony, and Thor.

Sam chuckled, “Hey Tin Can, your 40s bullshit won’t work on her. The hottie in the black dress shot him down,” motioning towards a group of ladies having an animated conversation.

Tony snorted, “Who Marisol? You’d stand a better chance talking to the nice lady in HR. You know, Ms. Channing; medium height, support hose, always smells like Ben-Gay?”

Steve, Sam and Thor laughed so hard, tears rolled down their faces. Bucky didn’t find it amusing. This goddess turned James Buchanan Barnes away??

Snapping back, Bucky mused “I’ve always loved a challenge. Game on doll.”

First, he abstained from frivolous flirting and sex. Anytime women attempted to latch onto him, Bucky refused to acknowledge their presence.

Next, Bucky knew in order to make a full 360, he’d make the ultimate sacrifice; torching his expansive library of black books.

Punching the up button, James Buchanan Barnes exhaled and stepped into the elevator. Bucky scrolled through his phone’s playlist, stopping at the mournful tune, ‘Taps.’ Mumbling to himself, “It’s now or never Barnes.”

Upon arrival on the roof, he started a fire in the pit. One by one, Bucky tossed his books into the crackling fire. A lone tear dropped from his eyelash. The time to settle down arrived! He wanted much more than an occasional booty call.

Days, weeks, and months passed. Bucky delivered flowers to Marisol’s office, asked her out for coffee…….nothing.

Tony played matchmaker, inviting Marisol to movie night. Steve and Bucky were last to arrive. They’d completed a rigorous training session.

Engaged in deep conversation about who won, Bucky didn’t see Marisol sitting on the loveseat.

Steve nudged his arm, “Buck, look who’s here.”

Sam taunted the speechless former assassin. “What’s wrong tin can? Cat got your tongue?”

Marisol waved at Bucky, tucking a lock of hair behind her left ear.

Tony, Nat and Wanda took advantage of the moment, snapping a picture of Bucky’s dumbfounded expression.

Steve extended his hand, “Hello I’m Steve Rogers.” “Marisol Kincaid, nice to meet you.”

Tony couldn’t let this priceless moment go without busting Bucky’s chops. “Marisol, Oil Can’s usually not tongue tied. Well, say something?

“H-hello. M’Bucky.” Everyone laughed at his nervous behavior.

“We’ve met remember? Tony’s last party? By the way, I love roses. How did you know?

Bucky responded, “Didn’t know. Lucky guess?”

“Wanna sit with me?” Marisol patted the seat next to her.

Nodding ‘yes’, Bucky flopped down in the seat; a goofy grin plastered on his face.

“Can we start the movie already?” Nat blurted out.

Tonight’s choice selected by Marisol………”The Jaws Collection”

Placing a bowl of popcorn in her lap, Wanda loved Marisol’s movie choices.

Sipping on a beer, Sam set the rules. “Okay kiddies. Light’s out and Barnes, NO NECKING!”

“Shut up Birdboy. You’re just mad. Turn around and watch the movie.

A chorus of ‘shhhhh’ echoed around the room.

Scooting close to Bucky’s side, Marisol whispered, “Would you join me for pizza and ice cream tomorrow?”

Clearly startled, Bucky stammered, “Y-yeah, um I’d like that a lot.”

“I’ll meet you in the common room around 2 p.m. Okay?’

“Okay.” She and Bucky turned towards the movie screen, munching on popcorn and beer.

Sleep eludes him most nights. Bucky would toss and turn from horrific nightmares. After movie night, he slept like a baby.

A bundle of nerves, Steve and Sam tried to calm Bucky down. Unsure of his outfit, Steve recommended a shirt, jeans and boots.

“M’hands are sweatin’ something awful. Maybe I shouldn’t go.” Bucky’s hesitance pissed Sam off.

Sam, rolling his eyes, scolded him, “Look you ancient asshole, you’ve done nothing but talked about this woman for months. Get your clothes on and have fun.”

Bucky shook his head up and down. Steve pushed him towards the shower. He and Sam left the room.

Dressed and ready to go, Bucky inhaled, exhaled, stepping in the elevator.

A vision of loveliness, Marisol sported ripped knee stonewashed skinny jeans, multi-colored sweater that really made her eyes pop, Ugg boots and a leather jacket.

Bucky offered his arm. “Shall we m’lady?”

Giggling, Marisol beamed, “Why yes, kind sir. We shall!”

Bucky and Marisol walked to her favorite pizza parlor, “Dominique’s.” It was quiet and intimate. They ordered pizza and colas. She listened attentively to stories about pre-serum Steves’ wild adventure. No mention of his time in HYDRA’s clutches. In turn, Marisol explained how her family was killed by HYDRA. They were mistaken for another family.

She couldn’t stop the flow of salty liquid rolling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry Bucky. It’s still raw after two years.”

Using his calloused thumb, Bucky wiped the tears from her face. “S’okay doll. I understand.”

Marisol and Bucky enjoyed lazy days, picnics in the backyard of the compound and long walks through Central Park . Although she lived off site, Nick Fury insisted she and her staff move in due to threats from HYDRA.

Bucky was over the moon elated. His best girl one floor down.

Most days though, the lovebirds could be found tangled together, making out like hormonal teenagers.

Tony and Sam didn’t waste the opportunity to annoy Bucky. “Hey Birdman. Look at Veronica and Jughead sucking face.”

Sam added, “Damn would y’all go to your room?”

Grabbing his hand, Marisol pulled Bucky towards his room. “Bye bye haters.”

Nat and Wanda returned from their month long recon mission, Marisol greeted the ladies with a hug.

“Yay, you’re back!!! Go shower and we’ll have girl time,” in her sing-song voice.

Wanda and Nat left the room to shower and prepare for mani/pedis, wine and rom coms.

“I’ll see you later Bucky,” placing a chaste kiss on his pouting lips.

Of course he didn’t mind. Bucky’s love for Marisol grew more and more.

Having been together for almost two years,  Bucky wanted Marisol to become his wife. So, operation “Let’s Get Married” was birthed.

Under the ruse of a 1940s Anthony Stark party, Nat and Wanda coaxed Marisol into an excursion of epic proportion…shopping in New York using Tony Stark’s unlimited credit card..

At the compound, caterers and decorators scurried in the ballroom. A disco ball hung from the ceiling; casting a kaleidoscope of shapes on the wall. Silver and black balloons swayed at the entrance of the room.

The melodic sound of Glenn Miller waft from the speakers. Topping off the affair, Pepper hired them a waiter. On the menu: Duck a l’orange, Sauteed Broccoli, Savory Sage Cornbread Stuffing, Sweet Potatoes with Spiced Butter Pecan Topping. Dessert…LATER!

Nat found the perfect dress, shoes and clutch purse for Marisol.

“Now, skedaddle.  Wanda and I gotta get dressed. Meet us in the ballroom?” Nat smirked.

“See you downstairs.”

Wanda texted Bucky:

W: Marisol’s on the way

Buckaroo: Everything’s all set.

W: Good luck

Buckaroo: I’m really nervous

W: Nat says you’ll be fine

James Buchanan Barnes stood frozen. He was transformed back to the 40s. A tear rolled down his cheek. Marisol was a vision of loveliness.

“My don’t you look handsome Bucky.” Marisol blushed.

Bucky’s voice cracked, “Doll, I can’t begin to say how gorgeous you are. Wow. I’m a lucky man.”

Escorting her to the table, Bucky pulled out Marisol’s chair. “Thank you. Always a gentleman.”

Their elegant meal and champagne were presented. The happy couple dined, laughed, and made small talk savoring every moment.

Bucky raised his glass for a toast. “To the love of my life. You’re more than I could’ve ever hoped for. I’mma better man ‘cause of you.”

Reaching inside his pocket, Bucky took to one knee. “Marisol Kincaid, I’ll love you till the end of time and beyond. No one will ever compare to you. Would you be my wife?”

Unable to hold back tears, she whispered ‘yes.’

Bucky led his fiance’ to the dance floor swaying to Glenn Miller’s “Moonlight Serenade”.  

Showing off some impressive dance moves, the newly engaged couple danced the night away.

Three months later, Bucky and Marisol married in an intimate ceremony. Bruce officiated, Tony and Sam escorted Marisol down the aisle.

Two years after marrying, a chubby cheek baby boy, Anthony Grant Barnes was born.  Weighing 8 lbs. 6 ozs., curly brown hair and bright blue gray eyes.

Of course everyone fawned over him. Bucky couldn’t be prouder. He had a wife, son, and free will.

Snuggled in his daddy’s safe arms, 4 year old Grant peered out the floor length window.

“Daddy, guess what? I love you this much,” stretching his little arms as far as he could.

Bucky’s heart swelled with pride. “Hey tiger, guess what? I love you to the moon and beyond.”

Leaning against the door jamb, Mrs. Barnes admired her two favorite guys.

Spying his mommy, Grant wiggled out his daddy’s arms, running to Marisol. “Hello sweetheart. Are you watching the raindrops?”

“Uh huh. Daddy hold me up to the window. S’lotta rain.”

She walked over, standing next to her husband. “Just think. Next year, we’ll have two kids.”

“Wh-wh-what? I-you-we’re gonna have a baby?”

“Yes, my sweet, I’m 2 months pregnant. Are you excited?”

“You’ve given me so much. I’m the luckiest sap in the face of the earth. Didn’t think happiness would come my way. Now, there’s no way I could live without my family.”

“Yay, I’m gonna have a brudder or sister!!!” Grant jumped around the room.

Bucky placed a kiss on Marisol’s flat tummy. “Hey little one, this is your daddy. Grant and I are excited about meeting ya. Please don’t make mommy sick. See’ya in 7 months peanut!”

Fin