#ty sam youre a real one

[cowboyshit]

[babiebom]

bachelors and their weird kinks/turn ons perhaps 👀

A/N: it took a LOT for me to find weird things that arent gross(literally shit or dead people sorry if you’re into these) and even then I don’t even think these are weird but there’s only so many sites that I can go on to find weird kinks or even kinks in general. Fun fact there’s a kink for watching people fall down the stairs!! Keep in mind I’m talking about these fetishes and kinks from my own memory from looking them up lmao.

Tw:nsfw like all of it, cursing etc let me know if I should tag anything else!!

Bc: at least 4 for each? One for what the kink is and one for the explanation?

Stardew Valley Masterlist

Sebastian

Dacryphilia the kink or fetish for watching or causing someone to cry(positive or negative). A kink for tears if you will

I don’t know if I’ve talked about this before (I might’ve?) but dude has a major crying kink. Like he needs to make you cry while having sex. In this instance it’s a good crying. Like from how good his dick feels inside you. How good it feels when he moves, when he touches you. It’s like overstimulation but the crying is the main thing he wants.

Somnophilia the kink or fetish for having sex with someone while they’re asleep.

AGAIN this is all consensual but he likes the way you look when you’re asleep. You’re fully content and relaxed, no troubles or worries. He just wants to make you feel even better to send you to a new level of paradise. And the way that you are free in your reactions instead of holding everything back. All of your sounds and the way you move…it just gets him off in a different way.

Sam

Katoptronophilia the kink or fetish for watching yourself or others have sex in a mirror

I think this kink more so has to do with his partner. I do think he would get off with watching you or him fucking you in a mirror. Like you both can see your own faces and it’s just hot how you can see how good he’s making you feel and the other way around. It’s like his recordings kink but in real time.

Claustrophilia the kink or fetish for tight spaces literally the opposite of claustrophobia

I think he would like the whole stuck in a small closet together thing or the whole (if you’ve seen kdramas bc this is the only time I’ve seen it) hiding from someone in a tight space and being forced to be close or touching.

Shane

Shibari the fetish or kink of Japanese bondage. It’s more artistic than regular bondage and can sometimes be nonsexual(meaning it can just be for the act of being tied/tying someone up)

I do think Shane might have a artistic side to him, he loves his blue chickens and even though he hasn’t particularly shown that he likes art I think he’d appreciate this form. Like yeah it has bdsm tones and he likes that, but he likes the time taken to tie you up, the time it takes to make the ropes look pretty on you. It gets the both of you riled up so the sex might be more passionate.

Electrostimulation the fetish or kink to being stimulated or stimulating someone with electricity

Oh dude is definitely a sadomasochist. He wants to shock you, he wants to be shocked (partially because he wants to feel something other than mental and emotional pain). It’s never so much that it hurts too much but it’s a little stinging sensation that he can’t get enough of.

Harvey

Quirofilia the kink or fetish for hands, but well taken care of/pretty hands

Oh I think Harvey HAS to take of his hands. As a doctor I think he would be happy if someone complemented how soft his hands were or how clean they looked. And on the other hand(heheheh) he would appreciate how nice your hands look, how soft they feel, how good they feel when touching him.

Breeding/Pregnancy the kink or fetish for pregnant people or getting someone pregnant. It has nothing to do with the child itself but the person carrying the child.

NGL I think once you two come to an agreement about pregnancy(in this case you agree to start trying for kids) Harvey is absolutely going to go batshit insane with this new development. Before he would’ve never said that this is something he’s into but once you two agree he’s so pumped up and actually starts talking dirty if he didn’t before. It’s crazy how different he is during this time.

Alex

Anasteemaphilia the kink or fetish for extreme size differences so either a giant or a dwarf(I hope this word isn’t offensive it’s what the website used)

Dude would NEVER reveal this but actually would love a giant girlfriend. I think because of the lowkey misogynistic views he has he would like a bigger woman and a smaller man. He would LOVE lady dimitrescu from resident evil. Like bffr.

Food Play the kink or fetish of involving food during intercourse so either eating it off each other or involving it in some way

Oh absolutely would love to eat food off of you and would want you to lick stuff off of him. Like whipped cream and chocolate syrup are MUSTS if you’re having a particularly long night. He thinks it’s so erotic to eat and consume stuff off of each other that don’t really have anything to do with sex.

Elliott

Psellismophilia the kink or fetish for stuttering

One of the weird ones I found. I think he would think it’s cute and if you do have a stutter or happen to stutter when you’re nervous he’s going to have such a confidence booster because of it. Like YES keep stumbling over your words and stuttering it actually is cute to him and he feels like he’s in a book or a movie or something.

Podophilia the kink or fetish for feet

I think this one is obvious? I think he’d prefer beautiful people and that includes feet. In a lot of erotic movies and books and even in romance books feet have some sort of importance to them. Whether it’s used to dominate someone or to pleasure someone he likes beautiful feet. He wants you to step on him(not in a rough way) and tbh I could see him wanting to recreate the scene in that one tarentino(is this his name) movie where he casts himself in the role that drinks I think alcohol from that woman’s food after it runs down her leg.

[honkytonk-hangman]

Big Girl

Jake Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake Seresin doesn't believe you should hide your light under a bushel, no.

Notes: Just a lil drabble i've been working on. I just think Jake would be the kinda guy who loves his girl to be big and loud and successful!!!!!!! ty to @roleycoleyland for being my rock the past few months holy gosh this one's for you bbyyy!!!! <3

Masterlist

“It’s a deployment, Samuel! It’s not like I have a choice!” you hiss, before closing your eyes and trying to get a hold of yourself. Afterall, it's not as though you and your boyfriend were in the comfort of your apartment. No, he’d decided to start this argument in the parking lot of the damn Hard Deck.

“Having a choice has nothing to do with it. You want to go, that's the real issue here!” Sam all but spits at you. You reel back, and throw your hands up in exasperation.

“So what if I do?! This is a big deal for me! This is a big deal for my career! I should be allowed to be excited about that!” you insist. Sam rolls his eyes at you and scoffs.

“Oh, there you go again! It’s always got to be about you and your big career, right?! Can’t let anything come before that!”

“That isn’t fair,” you lower your voice, and try to keep it from wobbling. “I have tried so hard to make sure you know you’re equally as important to me, but that was never going to work, was it?” Your voice does break a little this time, and you suck in air as you cross your arms over your chest and take a step back from him.

“You have decided from day one that you feel inferior, and you are never going to let me forget it! I have done everything to show you otherwise but you won’t let it be enough! You don’t want to change, you want me to change.” you probably shouldn’t let all of this air out in the parking lot of your favourite local bar, but you can’t stop yourself now, and the words tumble from your mouth faster than you can think things through. “I have tried to put myself in the box that makes you comfortable, but the truth is that I’m too big for it, I'm never going to stop being too big, so I’m never going to fit your stupid box!”

The two of your stare at one another for a few moments, you huffing tearily, and Sam staring at you in what looks like disgust. At last he scoffs again, and looks away from you, off toward the beach before he pulls out his car keys.

“Good luck with your big career.” he says mirthlessly, and you shut your mouth, swallowing hard as he climbs back in his car, giving you only seconds to step out of the way before he’s throwing it in reverse.

Suddenly you’re standing alone in the parking lot, blinking at the space where your probably-now-ex boyfriend just was. You don’t feel regret, exactly, but you do feel a deep sense of disappointment pulse through you. It’s not like you didn't mean everything you said, but you wonder if perhaps you might’ve said it differently.

Before you can get too far feeling sad though, a righteous kind of anger takes you over and you kick into action, stomping inside the bar and pushing through the busy crowd. When you order a straight bourbon, Penny frowns at you, and you know your eyes must be all red and glassy, but she doesn’t ask you, simply gives you her kindest smile and slides your glass towards you.

You down it quickly, and take a few deep breaths, hoping the alcohol might steel you some more, but it frustrates you to find your tears have started leaking, and you angrily wipe at them with the back of your hand.

“I don’t mean to pry…” a voice, somewhat familiar, sounds from next to you, making you turn. You’re slightly startled to find one of the pilots you’ve seen around base leaning casually against the bar. You know him to be a TOPGUN graduate, like yourself, but you’d never spoken before, let alone shared the sky. Hangman, you remember suddenly, and square your shoulders somewhat. It was coming back to you now. He had a bit of a reputation.

“I happened to arrive at the same time as you… couldn’t help but overhear all the commotion,” he speaks like he finds it all rather funny, but straightens up and clears his throat when you can’t help but look away from him, struggling to blink back tears. Dropping all pretence, he stops leaning and steps in a little closer with a frown on his face.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I wasn’t tryna’...” he trails off once more and you suck in a deep breath as you try to calm down.

Embarrassment lances through you, and you mostly just wish Hangman will leave you alone completely, but he doesn’t. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him shuffle on his feet in a manner you hadn’t been able to imagine him doing before now, and you try to get ahold of yourself.

Hangman seems to watch you for a beat before his demeanour changes up and he ducks his head down to catch your attention.

“For the record, if you hadn’t of said any of that, I might’ve,” His voice is somewhat humorous again, but this time it’s like he’s trying to make you laugh, which, caught off guard by his words, you do. You sneak a glance over at him, not feeling so intimidated anymore, and you almost laugh again to see him look so proud.

You watch as Hangman flags down Penny once more, ordering you another round and a beer as you use a napkin to blot at your face discreetly. When he looks back at you, his expression is much more intent than you’re fully comfortable with.

“Don’t you ever let some guy put you in a box, alright?” he tells you like it’s an order. It takes you a moment, but eventually you find yourself nodding at his words, not bothering to hide your surprise. The little you knew of this man was that he was prickly at most, and a complete asshole at worst, so his almost angry words in your defence take you off guard.

He stares at you until he seems satisfied you’ve heard him, and then his shoulders sag just a little and his expression softens.

“Find someone who’ll love that bigness, alright?” he says after a moment, before clearing his voice and straightening up once again as your drinks are delivered. Your cheeks want to warm in embarrassment at his referencing your little speech outside, but then he’s taking his beer with a thanks to Penny, and gesturing blindly toward you.

“Put her drinks on my tab tonight, alright?”

He doesn’t give you time to protest before he’s pushed away from the bar and disappeared into the bustling crowd of patrons.

The next time you see Hangman, his sudden appearance is just as unexpected as the first time, and just as welcome. You’re in a bar again, of course, only this time halfway around the world and thankfully, not crying. Your squad had a limited amount of shoreleave, so you were making the most of it while you could, before you needed to be back on base in the morning.

You hear a loud cheer from somewhere by the pool tables and glance over your shoulder toward where most of the Navy personnel had gathered, but you can’t see much aside from a few new faces. You assume they must be the other squad that Roukie had mentioned were passing through, but you’re quickly distracted again by the bartender coming your way.

Just as your server begins moving away to sort out your rather large order, you feel a hand at your back, quickly followed by the materialisation of a uniformed man beside you, his massive grin and sparkling green eyes flashing as a welcomed sight to your slightly hazy mind, and you let out a gentle sound of excitement as you turn to greet him properly.

“Hangman!” you exclaim, feeling only a little funny about being so happy to see him when you don’t even know him that well. Hangman thinks little of it, his smile turning brighter, more genuine as he eases into a lean against the bar, mirroring the last time you saw him, all cool and casual confidence as he nods towards you.

“How’s my Big Girl?” he asks, eyes crinkling in the corners. You can’t help but let out a laugh, but force yourself to look away from him for a second and pray to any god listening that he can’t tell how flustered you are.

“I think this is the first time in history a man has said that to a grown woman and isn’t going to get gut punched for it.” you deflect from the barrel rolls your stomach is doing. He chortles, and settles in even closer to you, his eyes never leaving your face.

“Well?” he prods, still staring at you even as the bartender returns, and you go to pay for your round, only to have Hangman push your outstretched hand away and hand over his own card instead. “Come on now, don’t keep me waitin’,” he says with playful sternness, and your already two-drinks deep mind can’t help but give in, and you begin gushing about your deployment so far, a few of the assignments you’d gotten to do, and some of the achievements you’d earned. Hangman stays staring at you through it all even as you gesticulate wildly as you speak or describe manoeuvres, and you’re so invested in your story telling that you barely register how or when you’d both moved back over to the surrounds of the pool table, where you assume Hangman had circulated the round you’d (he’d) bought all the while still listening to you talk.

You must be four or five drinks down when you at last come to a stop, giggling a small amount at the tail end of your last story. The sun has well and truly set now and you’re crammed in one side of a sticky pleather booth, Hangman on the other. You realise then, that you must have been talking for over an hour, probably much more.

“I’m sorry, that was so much!” you say, bashfully ducking your head a little. Hangman cocks his head at you, a wry smile pulling at his lips as he watches you fiddle with your drinks coaster.

“I know what I asked for.” he tells you with an assuredness you can’t question, and even as you glance away from him to catch yourself, his attention remains on you. You have to blame your four or five, maybe six drinks for the next words out of your mouth.

“You know, I don’t think you’re an asshole at all,” you declare, face growing hot when Hangman lets out a surprised, but amused bark of laughter, but doesn’t question your statement.

“Oh, is that right?” he asks instead, leaning forward like he’s very much intrigued by this assertion. “What am I then?”

You think he’s teasing you, but again, you can’t really help what comes out of you, and you draw your arm up onto the table to rest your head in your palm, and blink back at him slowly.

“Pretty, for the most part.” you tell him, trying to suppress a sudden yawn. Hangman's laugh is less boisterous this time, more of a chuckle really, and you find that your blinking has slowed even more, longer pauses between closing your eyes and opening them.

When you startle back awake some seconds later, you think you might’ve just fallen asleep, but you see that Hangman is watching you softly again, and you can’t help but smile as your eyes flitter shut once again. Warm hands guide you to your feet moments, maybe hours later, but when you pull back at the grasping, a soft shushing joined by a gentle voice lulls you back into sleep.

“Alright, Big Girl lets get you home.”

[zagreus-eats-your-bread]

Doctor Who wilderness years tumblr simulator

👤 theother-deactivated

Can't stand this toxic ass account anymore. I'll have to make a new blog

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Everyone come follow me over here

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🚬 fitz-kreiner

I'm sick and tired of the lack of nuance on this website! Having a dream about your mate where he's naked and your butts touch and generally thinking about having sex with him all the time does not make you queer!!

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🦋 eighth-doctor

I can't stand faction paradox. I bet their leader is a nasty ugly bitch

👴 grandfather-paradox follow

I bet you feel silly right now

📖 lawrence-miles follow

Everyone forget this happened

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👨‍🔬 third-doctor

My weed guy: this one is called Dust, youll be zonked out of your gourd

Me: yea yea whatever

2h later: the tardis walls are bleeding human blood. some weird guy here is psychosexually obsessed with me

6h later: A tear Sarah-Jane? No, wait a moment-

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Because you like #doctorwho

🙎‍♂️ the-stranger follow

Hi guys welcome to my new account. I'm just a traveller who tries to help people around the galaxy with my friend : )

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Turns out I was wrong about that. Here's an essay on why terrorism is necessary and okay

Read more

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"aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you just wanna go apeshit?" no, actually, there are severe consequences to this type of thinking. We must always be aware of our higher responsibilities and act accordingly

🕰️ minister-of-chance follow

Nvm.

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🖼️ the-real-isaac-greatorex follow

Everyone here is just hating on me because I'm gay. Tying people up killing them and drinking their blood is my hyperfixation

🪨 lez-shaw

Get P.r.o.B.e.d idiot

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🦋 eighth-doctor

To be honest I sometimes feel like I might benefit from some love and romance

🚃 realwildthyme

Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy doctor 💁‍♀️💖

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Just one good day. Can I just have one normal day around here

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No

☂️ seventh-doctor

Afrrrrraid not

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Bad Fact: no. Die.

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Apparently I'm going under cover as an Australian. What's a good Australian name? I'm just gonna go with Bruce

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I swear to fucking god you gay little cunt

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🌱 sam-jones

Let's play never have I ever. I'll start. Never have I ever killed someone

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I think this game sucks

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Obviously

[samkiszkasfacialhair]

Vengeance

Vengeance

Pairing: Josh Kiszka and Female Reader

Summary: “When people misbehave, they get punished. That’s how they learn, ya know?”

Warnings: Pit viper Josh, punishment sex, degradation, dominant Josh, bondage (tying hands/wrists and blindfolding), use of the word “slut,” “slave,” and “whore,” puppy play (kind of), forced blow job, gagging, breath control, mention of vomit, humiliation, teasing, rough unprotected sex, impact to the face, spitting. 

Word Count: 6.5k

To say you planned to make Josh fall apart would be an understatement. However you never thought he’d turn the tables on you. 

As you stood there, with a metal shelf pressed against your back and your hands tied above your head with the strings of your bikini top, trying to figure out how to get yourself free, you thought back to the series of events that led you to this moment. 

It was a Kiszka family weekend. Their parents and sister had planned to come to see a show in a few days and the guys had the weekend free, which called for family activities. 

Each of the boys organized something. Jake booked everyone hotel rooms, Sam made reservations and covered the cost of all the dinners, and Josh booked the daily activities- which he specifically was very excited for, because you were staying by a lake. 

Josh rented a boat for one of the afternoons- something the entire family would enjoy.

So, a few days ago, you rush-shipped a new bikini and coverup for the trip and the day before leaving, it showed up at your front door.

Perfect.

It was a dark green cheeky bikini with little white flowers embroidered on it that was held together by just a few strings. It was cute however, it was a bit smaller in real life than it was according to the pictures online.

But the way it hugged and accentuated every part of your body that you wanted it to perfectly when you tried it on gave you a boost of confidence and not to mention, a few dirty thoughts- thoughts that you were sure were bound to cross Josh’s mind too. Besides, you loved time off with him. He wasn't as tired as he was during show days and you had more time for "activities."

He was going to love it, that much you were sure of.

But, you remembered, you’d also be around his family. So of course, you also purchased a cover up. The cover up was an off white knitted dress that would do its job for when you were around the family or at public places throughout the day. 

You packed bags for yourself and Josh and right before zipping up the bags, you admired to yourself how your new bathing suit unintentionally but probably subconsciously matched the one Josh was set to bring- white swim trunks with a subtle pattern of green accented shapes. You threw it on top of yours and zipped the suitcase.

***

“Sam just texted me that he’s leaving now so he’ll be at the dock in a few minutes. You ready?” Josh asked as he laid on the bed of your hotel room on his phone, not bothering to look up to you as you walked out of the bathroom.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving yourself one last look in the mirror.

“Oka- Woah. No. Absolutely not,” Josh protested at the sight of you.

“What?” you asked as you continued to put your earrings in.

“The outfit! No!” he said with a chuckle coming off his lips as if it was all a big prank.

Instantly, you put on the charm.

“You don’t like it?” you asked innocently.

He sighed, rolled off the bed, and came over to where you were standing, clasping his hands behind your back and pulling you close to him.

“Don’t be like that, Mama. It’s just… a lot. Well, actually, it’s not a lot at all. You’re practically wearing nothing. I mean, my parents are gonna be there today,” he explained, getting a good look at you.

You gave him a little pout, dropped your chin, and looked at him through your lashes to hit him with your best puppy dog look. 

There was no sense in arguing. Josh knew you could be a bit of a handful at times and after all, that was something about you that he had to admit he loved- something that turned him on, even.

He laughed to himself and shook his head, “God, what am I gonna do with you?”

“Love you too, Baby,” you said sweetly as you gave him a quick kiss and a pat on his butt. 

After grabbing your bags and a case of beer, you Josh walked out of the hotel, and down to the dock to the boat he had rented hand in hand. You were the last ones to arrive- as usual with him. 

It was hot out but cloudy, and the breeze from the water was perfect. However, despite the clouds, Josh had on a pair of sunglasses. Pit Viper sunglasses to be exact. He loved them. You hated them. They made him look like a douche bag and he knew it. But, with you wearing a skimpy bikini that he didn’t exactly approve of, he figured he should include something you weren’t exactly a huge fan of as part of his outfit for the day. It was only fair.

Josh made a grand entrance upon stepping onto the boat, holding up the case of beer he brought and screaming out to his family to let them know the two of you had arrived.

The boat was big. It had a few decks as well as a full indoor living area, kitchen, and even a bedroom. There were also stairs leading down to an unlit area which you assumed led to storage and technical stuff.

After greeting his parents and sister, you sat down on a white padded bench near Sam who was was sitting crisscrossed on the deck of the boat while his girlfriend had her hands in his hair, tugging it this way and that as she put two French braids in it to keep it from blowing wildly in the wind.

“You look handsome with your hair like that, Sammy,” you said sweetly to him. 

“Thank you! You look lovely today by the way,” he replied.

You smiled at Sam’s compliment and looked at Josh with an I told you so look on your face. 

“Hm. At least Sammy thinks I look nice,” you whispered to him.

“I never said you didn’t” he said sternly as his jaw clench and he swallowed hard.

He lifted your legs up onto his lap and ran his free hand up and down them a few times before resting his hand just above your knee, almost as if he was claiming you.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warned in your ear, just above a whisper as the boat started moving. 

You opened your mouth to give him a smartass reply but stopped yourself when his dad stood in front of the two of you, handing you each a drink.

“You like black cherry, right?” his dad asked with a Whiteclaw extended to you.

“Yes, it’s my favorite, thank you!” you answered with a smile as you grabbed it from his hand. 

Josh took a can of beer from his dad, cracked it open, gulped down almost half of it right off the bat. 

“Slow down, Baby, no one’s taking it from you,” you giggled as you brought your hand to the back of his neck and swirled your fingers through the curls at the bottom of his head.

He swallowed and brought the ice cold can to your legs, using them as a table and sending shivers throughout your body.

As the boat sailed through the water, everyone drank, talked, and laughed. Everyone except Josh, who was quieter than usual. He was good at masking his emotions though. No one seemed to pick up on it except you. After all, you knew exactly why he was quiet. 

What you wanted to happen, was happening. It was only a matter of time before he broke.

Soon, the boat anchored at a shallower area of the lake. The captain informed you all that the water was about twenty feet deep, making it safe and suitable for jumping off the boat and swimming.

“You guys going in?” Jake asked the two of you, standing up and unbuttoning the black overshirt he had on. 

Josh looked over at you and raised his eyebrows, silently asking you if you wanted to go in. 

You didn’t answer Josh. Instead, you eyed Jake up and down, making sure Josh saw you do so.

“Yeah,” you said, replying not to Josh, but to Jake.

You sat up and gave Josh a small smile. He didn’t smile back. Instead, he tipped his sunglasses down so you could see his eyes which were strong and giving you a warning look.

Ignoring the “knock it off” look, you gave him a quick peck on the lips before taking off your white knitted cover up. When you pulled it over your head, instantly, you caught Sam and Jake’s eyes on you, despite their own girlfriends being there.

Sam was obvious. His eyes practically burned a hole into the fabric of your bikini. With her hands still braiding his hair, his girlfriend jerked his head around and he winced as his hair got pulled, a seemingly intentional move on her part.

Jake, at least, was smarter about it, hiding behind a pair of round black sunglasses and raising his beer can to his lips, taking a sip to hide his smile.

Even their dad gave Josh an approving look and a raise of his eyebrows. 

Josh handled each of them as he stood up to follow you.

He smacked the unbraided side of Sam’s head as he walked by him. 

He laughed his dad off as respectfully as he could. 

And as he walked by Jake, who was standing on the edge of the boat, he gave him a push and watched him fall into the water below him. 

The sound of his body hitting the water was all you heard until you looked over to see him laughing with just his head out of the water, his body completely invisible as it emerged in the dark lake water surrounding him. 

“You dick!” he shouted jokingly, “You better get your ass in here and bring me a new beer!”

Josh turned to you, pulling you in tight by your waist, “You heard your boyfriend,” he teased, “better get your ass in there,” he said, smirking.

“Jealous?” you asked sweetly.

He looked down at your chest and then back to your face.

 “No,” he answered, stretching out the word fighting back a smile. 

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” you said as you gave him a peck and jumped off the boat and into the water with Jake. 

Immediately, Josh followed behind you and eventually, Sam, his girlfriend, Jake’s girlfriend, and Ronnie were all in the water with you.

After a while of swimming with the group, having canned drinks thrown down to you all by their parents, and Sam and Jake swimming away to pee, you started to get cold and the group of you got back onto the boat before it took off again to head to another location in the lake. 

As you sat on the top deck in just your bikini, with your legs in Josh’s lap, the sun started burning off the clouds little by little, making the day grow hotter, which was nice considering you were in a cold, wet bathing suit.

“You’re getting a little pink, Baby,” you said, pressing your fingertips onto Josh’s sunkissed shoulder and releasing them to see a small pale dot linger behind before returning to the same color pink around it.

“Yeah you can still burn even with the overcast,” Sam interjected, squinting up to the sky. 

Josh rolled his eyes. Sam didn’t have that problem and he never did. Sam’s skin always held strong under just one layer of SPF 30 all day while Jake and Josh would be better off reapplying SPF 50 every hour. Sam’s comment also didn’t help with Josh already annoyed at him. 

“You want 50?” his dad asked, holding out a can of sunscreen.

“Ah, yes, that’s perfect,” you said, standing up and reaching for the can from his dad, making sure you pushed your ass and tits out just a bit more than your normally would, “Thank you!”

“Course,” his dad replied.

Josh grabbed your wrist to stop you from twisting the nozzle open, “Actually, you wanna go inside with me? Get a drink and be in the shade for a little?” he asked quietly.

“M’kay,” you replied, getting up, handing his dad the can of sunscreen back, and following him inside the boat as the sounds of his family members talking and laughing muffled with the closing the glass door behind you. 

“I want to make something very clear to you,” he said as he pulled you down the stairs by your arm and swung you around to face him once you reached the landing and were out of earshot of the captain of the boat.

The way he whipped you around made your breath hitch in your throat and you exhaled hard as your eyes met his and he continued speaking through his teeth. 

“You want to dress like a slut? Act like a slut? I will treat you like a slut. And then we’ll see just how you like it, hm?”

You looked at yourself in the reflection of his sunglasses and smiled just a bit, tugging at your bottom lip with your teeth. You hated those sunglasses but you were so thankful for them right now. You had to admit, you loved seeing what he saw as you looked at the reflection in them. And right now, all you saw was a little brat who deserved whatever was coming her way.

If he wanted to, you’d let him take you on the stairs right then and there for anyone to see. That’s how bad you wanted and needed him right now. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said sweetly, playing dumb.  

“Really?” he asked rehtorically, “You think I didn’t notice all that shit you pulled with my brothers out there? Hm? And my fucking dad?”

“I was being nice. Unlike you who got a little attitude all of a sudden,” you said fighting back a smile. 

You knew you weren’t just being nice.

“Yeah the way you were looking at Jake was really nice, wasn’t it?”

“You know what, I think you are jealous after all,” you replied.

“And I think, you need to be taught a lesson,”

“So teach me then,” you said, crossing your arms in front of you, making sure you pushed your tits up just a bit with it.

That was it and you knew it. Those four words sent Josh to his breaking point and the look on his face proved it.

Josh smiled, shook his head, and let out a laugh through his mouth as he traced his bottom teeth with his tongue. 

“Teach you? Oh I’ll teach you,” he said as he pulled onto your arm and led you down the narrow corridor of the basement of the boat and into a small room that was seemingly reserved for the crew members. 

He slammed the door behind him and twisted the dead bolt to lock it. 

He flicked on a light switch to reveal that you were both standing in a storage closet, containing just a utility sink and a metal wire shelf that was stocked from ceiling to floor with cleaning supplies.

“What’s your word, Mama?” he asked with his hands in his hair, untying the white bandana that he was wearing.

“Red,” you said clearly.

“And what if you can’t talk?”

“Shake my head three times.”

“Perfect,” he said, smiling at you and then turning his attention to the bandana between his fingers as he gave it a good tug. 

There was a ball of anxiety in your stomach that was more excited than nervous or fearful. The two of you had experimented with stuff like this before. You trusted Josh with everything in you and even though you knew he was about to completely ruin you for his own pleasure and entertainment, you knew you were in good hands. After all, this is what you hoped for.

“Now,” he began as he spun you around, grabbed your wrists and held them together in his hand behind your back, “I don’t give a fuck about your pleasure. I don’t give a fuck if you cum. You misbehaved. And when people misbehave…” he paused for a second to tug the bandana tight around your wrists, “They get punished. That’s how they learn. Ya know?”

All your body would let out was a hum in agreement as Josh grabbed your shoulders and spun you around forcefully, manhandling you.

“So,” he whispered as he brought his face close to yours, “It’s time for you to learn so this doesn't happen again,” he said as he flicked the tip of your nose.

He used one hand to sneak to the back of your neck and untie your bikini top. In just a few seconds, the strings were undone and the top came tumbling down, exposing your bare chest to him. The second string that wrapped around your back was still in place though, keeping the two triangles of the top just dangling over your stomach, swinging back and forth as you moved your body.

The same hand continued down your chest and he swirled his fingertips over your nipple lightly, causing your back to arch involuntarily at his touch.

“Mmm, feels good?” he asked softly with his mouth an inch away from yours.

“Yeah,” you breathed out in a whisper, closing your eyes and subconsciously bringing your face closer to go in to kiss him. A kiss which never happened because Josh pulled his face back.

In a second, a sinister chuckle left his lips and a sharp pain rang through your chest as he pinched and pulled upward on your nipple.

“Don’t get used to it,” he said bluntly, giving it one last tug before ripping his fingers from you.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded as he crossed his arms over his chest.

You did as he said and dropped down so that your face was at eye level with the bulge in his swim trunks.

“What are you waiting for? Take ‘em off,” he said sharply.

“Josh,” you said bluntly, “I can’t,” you emphasized your words, reminding him that your hands were tied behind your back. 

He didn’t need to be reminded. He didn’t care.

“Get creative. You’ll find a way.”

You looked up at his face and then down at his shorts which were at eye level. All you had was your mouth. 

Inching closer to him on your knees, you took your teeth to the waistband of his shorts right by his hip bone, and tugged down. 

They came down an inch on one side and you crawled to the other side of him and did the same there.

Back and forth you went, on your knees, tugging Josh’s trunks down an inch at a time on each side, looking absolutely pathetic, as he stood from above and watched with a smirk on his face, laughing at you. You couldn’t even see his eyes through his sunglasses, all you saw was yourself, his slave, in the reflection of them.

After getting his shorts down about halfway and struggling to get them to come off past his bulge, he had had enough and he pulled his shorts down the rest of the way, fully revealing his hard cock to you. 

“Suck it,” he commanded.

You looked up at him, licked your lips, and leaned forward to take his dick in your mouth. 

The second the tip of his dick pushed past your lips he let out a sigh of pleasure and grabbed the back of your head.

Instantly, he started using his hands to guide you. He used your hair as leverage, pulling at your roots and pushing down on your head as he moved you back and forth. It felt good- that little sting that came with each pull. 

Normally, you’d be able to add some “technique” to sucking his dick. You’d use your hands and twist them around his shaft. You’d be able to go at your own pace, starting slow and sucking the tip the way he liked it. You could swirl your tongue around the head of his dick or cup his balls to send him over the edge a bit. But not this time. All you had was your open mouth. He was in control of everything. 

In a way, you were glad he was. You could barely keep your own balance due to not being able to use your hands and water dripping from both your bathing suits and your hair had made the floor just a bit slippery below your knees, causing them to slide around a bit. Not to mention, you were on a moving boat.

However, him being in control of everything meant he was going to use you just the way he wanted to.

Quickly, he picked up the pace.

Josh let go of your hair and his hands gripped the sides of your head and pulled you back and forth on his dick with force a few times.

But that wasn’t enough for him. He stilled his hands, kept your head steady, and started thrusting his hips into you, fucking your face. 

The gargle sounds that started in your throat and came out of your mouth as the saliva collected in your open mouth and began dripping onto your chin were something you’d only ever heard in porn before. 

He looked down at you the entire time and you looked up at him, watching yourself in the reflection of his sunglasses. You could see and feel your own saliva dripping down between your tits.

With every thrust, his sunglasses slid further and further off his nose and you flinched as they came down, just missing your face, and hitting the floor to your left. 

He stopped for a minute with his dick still in your mouth and both turned your eyes to the floor where you could just faintly see the sunglasses in your peripheral vision.

“Pick ‘em up,” he instructed and he pushed your head off of his dick backwards.

You wiggled your body around and leaned sideways awkwardly to grab at them, but you were unsuccessful. You tried a few times, grabbing them with your fingers before dropping them time after time. The way your wrists were tied up didn’t allow your hands for much movement. Not to mention the way you had to bend around was difficult and was stretching your back in painful ways, causing you to wince and whine as you tried. 

You sat back on your heels and looked up at him, defeated and out of breath. 

He laughed, “You are absolutely pathetic, Baby. Come on, I thought you were smarter than this.” 

You looked at the glasses on the floor again and sighed. Still sitting on your heels, you turned yourself around, giving him a view of your ass with your hands tied right above it, which you were sure he loved.

And just as he wanted you to, like nothing but an obedient dog, you leaned down and with your mouth, picked up the glasses and crawled back around to present them to him.

He reached down and cupped the side of your face gently, a contrast to how he had been handing you for the past few minutes.

“That’s a good girl,” he cooed the same way he would reward Sam’s dog for doing a trick, as he took the sunglasses from your mouth. 

You fully expected him to put them back on his own face but instead, he reached down and put them on you. 

In any normal circumstance, this would be a soft act of kindness. But not in this one. This was just another way of humiliating and degrading you, and the next words out of his mouth proved it.

“There we go, that’s better,” he said softly and sweetly, before his tone changed as he continued, “Yeah,” he laughed, “I don't even want to look at you.”

He stroked himself a few times before he continued, “Now, is my good little puppy ready for her treat? Open,” he said as he grabbed the back of your head and forced you onto his dick once more and held you there. 

You gagged around his dick as it hit the back of your throat. You concentrated on breathing through your nose as your throat closed around his dick. You were swallowing his cock and your own saliva all while fighting back vomit that you could feel forcing its way up your throat. 

Tears welled up in your eyes ran down your face, causing the inside of the glasses to fog up to the point where you could no longer see anything. 

He kept one hand on the back of your head and used the other one to take hold of your nose and squeeze your nostrils shut.

At that point, you had lost feeling in your arms, you couldn’t see, and now you couldn’t breathe. 

The only thing you could do was feel him using you and take it. Your mouth was nothing but a hole for Josh to use to get himself off. Every ounce of dignity was stripped from you. The only thing that even provided you with the slightest bit of it was your bathing suit bottoms that were still intact but pooling with your own wetness as Josh continued fucking your face.

You were a second away from shaking your head to get him to stop when he shoved you away aggressively, allowing you to suck in a massive and well earned breath as well as close your mouth to swallow properly for the first time in what felt like forever. 

He pushed the glasses up onto your forehead, allowing you to regain your sense of sight, and both of you watched a string of saliva connecting your mouth to his dick stretch and eventually break apart into two pieces landing on his thigh and your chest. 

Breathing with your mouth open to catch your breath, you sat back on your heels and looked up at him, desperately, as he looked down at you with a pleased expression on his face. 

You were practically panting to catch your breath when he reached down and lifted your chin to close your mouth.

“Close your mouth, Baby, you look like a whore.”

No shit.

He held onto your cheeks and smooshed them together, hard, causing your lips to part and letting all the excess saliva ooze between your teeth, bubble out, and dribble down your chin.

For just a fraction of a second, he smiled at you. It was so brief that if you would have blinked in that exact second, you wouldn’t have seen it. 

And just as quickly, his expression was serious again as he released your cheeks from his grip with a push to your face. 

With that same hand, he swirled your hair around his wrist and held it tight in a makeshift ponytail in his fist before using it to yank you up to your feet. 

You winced as he pulled you up forcefully, feeling your neck stretch as your legs tried to keep up with how quickly he was pulling.

As he pulled you up, you slipped around on the floor which was not only covered in lake water, but now drops of your own saliva. Josh held you steady for a moment with each of his hands gripping your upper arms. 

He spun you around, freed your wrists, and spun you around again so that you were now facing him.

He threw the bandana to the floor on top of his disregarded swim trunks.

“Take that off,” he commanded, jutting his chin out toward your bikini top that was hanging by one loose knot just below your ribcage.

Careful not to drop it, you untied it, pulled it off, and handed it to him, unsure of the next plan he had for you. 

“That little bratty mouth of yours served me well, Mama. But now,” he said as he held your wrists together in front of you and wrapped the bikini top strings around them a couple times, “Let’s see what that pussy can do for me, hm?”

He walked you backwards a few steps until your back made contact with the metal shelf behind you, causing you to shiver from how cold it was.

He raised your tied wrists over your head and using the rest of the bikini top, he secured your wrists to the top wire shelf, wrapping the string around in the most unconventional way and creating knots that would be close to impossible to undo.

He gave your wrists a yank and when they didn’t detach from the shelf or slip out of the ties, he smiled to himself with satisfaction. 

He walked around to the front of you and looked you up and down.

“Comfortable?”

“No,” you whined as you moved around a bit, struggling.

“Aw that’s too bad, Mama. You look so pretty like this. All desperate and helpless. Nothing but a whore for a good fuck,” he said as he sucked his teeth and gave you a condescending pout.

He took one finger, starting at your wrist, and ran it down the inside of your entire arm.

You squirmed as his finger brushed over your armpit and down to your nipple, giving it a flick before his hand came up to your chin. 

With his other hand, he grabbed the front of your bikini bottom and pulled tight, letting the fabric create a burning friction between your folds. 

You let out a whimper of pain. 

“Jo-” you whined.

“Shhhh,” he said, shushing you but also finishing the last sound of his name that you whined out.

He let go and the elastic in the bottoms snapped back onto your skin with a sting. He pushed the crotch of your bikini bottom to the side, feeling around with his fingers- feeling the wetness that had accumulated. Slowly, he dipped two fingers inside you and pulled them back out.

“You like all this a bit too much, don’t you?” he asked in a sweet voice, “Maybe a bit more than you should?”

He was right. You liked this more than you should. A lot more than you should. Any sane person would find this completely humiliating and degrading. But surprisingly, this got you more turned on than anything. 

You wanted Josh to use you. You wanted him to treat you like an object- not a person- nothing but a masturbation tool for him. 

You nodded in response as he pulled his wet fingers up and held them in between both of your faces, rubbing them back and forth, inspecting what was left on them.

“You know, I’m starting to think you planned this whole thing,” he said, smiling sinisterly, "You're smarter than you look,"

He picked up the bandana off the floor and wiped his fingers with it before balling it up and shoving it in your mouth.

“You like how you taste?” he asked with his hand covering your mouth tight.

“Mhm,” you said with your voice muffled from both the bandana and his hand.

“I’m gonna give you something that you’re really gonna like then,” he whispered as he lifted your leg up and placed your foot on the ledge of the utility sink next to you. 

Still holding the crotch of your bottoms to the side with one hand, he lined himself up with your entrance and then held onto your hip with his other hand as he slid inside you, bottoming out and filling you up completely. 

He started off slow, pulling out most of the way before filling you up again. However, he quickly picked up the speed and pressure, pushing your back into the metal shelf behind you with every thrust. 

That familiar dull ache began forming deep in your stomach as he kept going. It would come and go with his movements. Normally, you’d be able to tell him what to do to make you cum and he’d do it happily. But not this time. Right now, you knew your place. You were his toy, nothing but a set of holes for him to jack off into. Your pleasure meant absolutely nothing to him, he said it himself. If you asked him for anything to help you get closer to a release, he’d do the opposite and laugh at you.

As he continued, you felt the string of your bikini bottom come loose and fall over your leg and his. You looked down to see the strings dangling from your body and swung around between the two of you.

Upon looking down, the glasses that he had rested on the top of your head, once again, fell to the floor. But this time, Josh paid them no mind.

Instead, he pushed on your left leg that was held up by the sink and used your thigh for leverage, allowing himself to go in at a deeper angle as his other hand white knuckled the shelf behind you.

He grunted and breathed hard through his teeth while you whimpered in both pain and pleasure while biting down hard on the now soaked bandana.

All it took was one particularly deep and hard thrust to send a pornographic combination of expletives and moans from your mouth into the air.

“Oh God, Josh! FUCK!” you screamed, letting the now saliva soaked bandana to fall to the floor. 

Josh reached his hand up to your face laid his entire palm on your cheek with a hard slap before forcing four of his fingers into the side of your mouth and pulling your lips apart as he hooked his hand around so the palm of it was on your cheek and he was pressing your head back into the shelf as he continued fucking you.

“Come on, Mama, louder. Let ‘em all hear. You’re lucky I’m not fucking you up there, letting Sammy and Jake have their turns too. Bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Keep it in the family, huh? You wanna fuck my dad too? Be my new step mom? You want that, don’t you? Disgusting.”

“No,” you argued back.

But with his hand prying your mouth open, you couldn’t get your lips or tongue to make the right N sound, which in turn made you sound the most pathetic you ever have.

“I’m sorry you’ll have to enunciate. What was that?” he asked with a chuckle coming off his lips, knowing damn well you loved being his little fuck toy and you were his to humiliate.

“I aid o!” you attempted to say.

“Oh you said no? Didn’t seem like it considering you’re all over them, wearing this slutty little bikini. Oh you look so handsome Sammy! Good for nothing but sucking and fucking,” he said, pushing into you harder as he spoke those specific words.

He started slamming into you mercilessly. The shelf behind you began moving and hitting the wall with each thrust with a thud. Paper towel rolls began falling from the top shelf onto the floor. Bottles of soap and cleaning products began falling over on the shelves as Josh pushed you into it.

Despite all that, Josh didn’t stop. Instead, he put his foot up on the bottom rung of the shelf and lifted his hips up underneath you, pushing himself deeper than ever before.

That was it. That was all it took to send you over the edge. The building feeling in your stomach came to a peak right there and exploded.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you watched the inside of your eyelids flicker open and close as you felt yourself tighten around Josh’s dick with your orgasm pulsing through your body. 

It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. It was deep and strong and well earned.

The sounds that came out of your mouth were unintelligible. 

He fucked you through your orgasm and right into his, letting out a deep moan as he released himself inside you. He closed his eyes tight and furrowed his eyebrow as waves of visible pleasure filled his entire body causing his body to twitch as they hit.

When he finished, he stilled his movements and let go of your face; and the two of you, with your faces less than an inch apart, just stared at each other in awe, breathing heavily. Almost like neither of you could believe any of that just happened. 

Gently, he cupped your face, as if he was silently asking you if you were okay. It was like time stopped for just a second with him.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, looking at you with a genuine softness in his eyes.

He broke eye contact and looked down as he pulled himself out of you. Slowly, he lowered your leg back to the ground before cleaning himself off in the sink. He splashed cold water on his face and shook it off. You watched him as you felt the warmness of his cum starting to drip out of you.

Josh reached down to the bottom shelf next to you and uncapped a plastic bottle of water. 

“Open,” he said as he lifted your chin up and poured water in your mouth carefully in an act of kindness.

You swallowed a few times and he pulled the bottle away, letting the excess water drip down your chin, neck, and chest. 

He gulped down what was left in the bottle and when he was done, he pulled his shorts back on and stood back, admiring his work. 

Your hair was a mess- half wet, half dry, and tangled. There was black makeup streaming down your face. Saliva, both wet and dry, had run from your mouth, to your chin, and down to your stomach, leaving a wet spot on the top of the crotch of your bikini bottoms, which were hanging on loosely by one hip as his cum dripped down your inner thigh. 

Finally, to put the finishing touches on his masterpiece, he got his face close to yours and expecting a kiss, you lifted your chin to him. 

“Now,” he began, “What do you say?” he said softly, letting the word “say” draw out a bit.

“Thank y-,�� you started to say when you were interrupted by Josh spitting on your face.

You flinched as it hit your face.

He aimed for your mouth but missed by just a bit, landing just below your bottom lip, giving his saliva no choice but to trickle down your chin and then down your chest, where it fell in and mixed with every other bodily fluid imaginable. 

He picked up his sunglasses and bandana from the floor and ran them under water in the sink. 

“Well,” he said casually as he laid the bandana across the edge of the sink to dry and shook the excess water off the glasses, “I’m gonna go take a nap so, I’ll see you later, Mama.”

“You’re seriously not going to get me out of this?” you asked with your hands still tied to the shelf.

“Eh,” he said, “You’re smart, I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders as he opened the door and shut it behind him, flicking off the lights as he left, leaving you there as you were. 

In the darkness you moved around a bit until a little green blinking light above the door caught your eye.

A security camera.

Fuck.

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry (no I’m not).

[blueskrugs]

More than a Memory | Quinn Hughes

I write quinn now, but apparently only for @matthewtkachuk​. surprise babe! hope you enjoy this one, my latest @antoineroussel​ fic exchange fic! (and it’s not even late!) it was unbelievably hard not to message you about this while I was writing it.

special shoutout to my real-life Sam, who inspired more of this fic than I’d care to admit. 

recommended listening: More than a Memory by Garth Brooks

length: 5.3k words

When you were ten years old, Quinn Hughes was your almost-first-kiss. 

You still remembered the moment as if it were yesterday. In a rare quiet moment in the Hughes household, you were sitting on their living room floor with your eyes closed, where Quinn had told you to wait. You almost flinched when you felt Quinn’s fingers brush your wrist. You cracked open one eye. Quinn was carefully winding a friendship bracelet around your wrist and tying it in a knot. You squeezed your eyes shut again. 

Quinn pressed his forehead to yours. You didn’t dare breathe. 

The back door slammed, Jack or Luke, probably, and you both jolted away from each other. Quinn kneed you in the side as he tried to roll away from you. You were both breathless with nervous laughter—and you with a little bit of pain—when Jack appeared in the doorway. He looked between the two of you for a moment with all the confusion of an eight year old who didn’t understand his older brother.

“Come outside, and play with us,” Jack complained.

It was January in Toronto, and it was cold out. Jack didn’t seem to care about that part. You and Quinn shared a look, but you both grabbed your coats and hats and followed Jack outside.

That had been over ten years ago. 

You and Quinn had grown apart over the years after that day. Once best friends, you quickly felt like you were becoming strangers. Quinn started focusing more on hockey, and your friendship fell through the cracks. It was painful for a while. You missed Quinn terribly, even though he hadn’t gone anywhere. There was a whole year where he barely spoke to you at all, even though you spent all day in the same classrooms. 

Eventually, hockey took the Hughes family to Michigan, and you lost contact with Quinn entirely. You did your best to forget about Quinn, but you kept the thin green friendship bracelet looped around your wrist. 

But that was then, and this is now. That was before you grew up, before you left your family behind and moved across the country to Vancouver. Before, well, everything. 

You didn’t think much about Quinn Hughes these days. You knew he’d been drafted out here, but you didn’t pay much more attention to his career than that. It was for your own sanity, really. Besides, Vancouver was a big city. The odds of you ever running into Quinn were pretty low. 

Or so you thought. You run into Quinn for the first time at the grocery store of all places. You almost don’t recognize him at first, and he doesn’t see you, too focused on the bags of frozen vegetables. You freeze—fitting, for the aisle you were standing in. You debate just turning around and leaving the aisle, but you really need green beans, and they’re the last thing on your grocery list for the week. 

“Excuse me,” you say, edging past Quinn’s cart and reaching for the bag of green beans.

“Oh, sorry,” Quinn says. He starts to move out of the way, but stops, staring at you. You meet his eyes briefly before carefully looking over his left shoulder. “Do I know you?”

You couldn’t remember what you looked like when you were 13 and saw Quinn for the last time, or imagine what he could see in your face now that would still be familiar. Quinn looks the same, yet different. Older, obviously, but it’s enough that you’re not sure you would have recognized him yourself if he weren’t an NHL player in the same city you lived in. His hair has grown out longer than you can ever remember it being, and there’s a day or two worth of stubble across his cheeks. Underneath it, he’s Quinny, but not the Quinn you knew. 

You’ve been quiet for too long. Quinn’s still staring at you, trying to figure out where he knows you from. You could lie. Tell him you’ve never met before and move on. 

What you say instead is: “We went to primary school together, actually.”

There’s a horrifying moment where you think Quinn still won’t recognize you. His eyebrows draw together in confusion, and you wish you hadn’t said anything at all. The moment passes, Quinn’s face clears, and, before you know it, he’s stepping around both of your carts to wrap you in a quick hug. He’s pulling away before you can even convince yourself to hug back.

“Oh my God, of course, Y/N!” Quinn says. “I didn’t know you lived in Vancouver now.”

You don’t have the time to explain all the reasons you left Toronto, so you say, “Yeah, it’s a recent thing. Needed a fresh start, y’know?”

Quinn nods like he does know. He’s moved around enough he might actually know. “I need to get going, but it was good to see you,” he says. “We need to get coffee some time, catch up, yeah?”

You find yourself nodding. Quinn smiles at you one last time before turning and walking away. You realize that you don’t even have his phone number. Whatever. He probably didn’t really mean anything by it, and you’re probably never going to see each other again. For real this time.

The second time you run into Quinn Hughes is actually your fault. You take a personal day off work on a Friday, but you feel too restless to sit around your too-small, too-empty apartment. You Google “ice rinks near me” and end up at Robson Square.

It’s easy enough to rent skates, and you are stepping onto the mostly empty ice before you can let yourself think too hard about it. You don’t know the last time you’d been ice skating. Years, probably. You wobble a bit at first, but it isn’t long before muscle memory kicks in, and you are gliding along as well as you can on the rough ice. It is early enough in the afternoon that it isn’t too crowded, only a few other families and college-aged couples, plus one other lone skater on the other end of the rink from you. It doesn’t take an expert to identify him as a hockey player, but you would recognize that skating anywhere. You had grown up skating alongside him and his brothers in Wedgewood Park back in Toronto.

Quinn isn’t wearing anything Canucks-branded, which is probably why no one else has recognized him. He’s skating in smaller circles than the rest of the crowd, not really paying anyone else any mind. You’re too far away from the door to double back and make an escape, but Quinn still hasn’t seen you, either. You keep skating, praying Quinn doesn’t look up from his crossovers. 

A young child skates past you, then, laughing as they escape their parents. You skate sideways to avoid getting in the way, forgetting how close you’d gotten to Quinn. You are still looking over your shoulder for the kid’s parents when you bump into someone, and you’re both tumbling to the ice. 

You had also forgotten how much it hurt to hit the ice. 

You end up on top of Quinn, your legs tangled together, Quinn’s hands gripping your elbow and your hip.

“Oof,” he says. He looks up at you properly for the first time. “Oh, hi.”

“Hey,” you say, still a little breathless from falling. And maybe a little bit from being so close to Quinn. You choose to ignore that part. 

Quinn winces. “D’you mind-”

“Right, fuck, sorry.” You remove your elbow from his gut. You start to roll off Quinn. His hands tighten for a split second before he lets you go. You were going to start drawing attention to yourselves soon if you don’t get off the ice, but you still lay on your back for a moment, trying to catch your breath.

Next to you, Quinn is already getting to his feet. He brushes the snow off his pants and holds out a hand for you. You debate ignoring it; you know how to skate, and you know how to get up after falling. You certainly don’t need Quinn’s help. 

You roll to your knees and take Quinn’s hand, letting him pull you back to your feet. You drift close for a second, practically into Quinn’s chest. You both took a step backwards. Quinn starts skating again without letting go of your hand, and you have no choice but to skate after him.

Until Quinn realizes you were still holding hands, and he drops yours like he’s been burned. 

You step off the ice as soon as you reach the door, not looking to see if Quinn is following you. You hear him sigh before he steps off too.

You find a bench and begin yanking at your skate laces with numb fingers. Quinn sits beside you and pulls your hand away. He rubs absently at your cold fingertips. You should have worn gloves. 

“Hey, you’re not leaving already, are you?” he asks softly. 

You shake your head. You don’t know. You don’t know if Quinn wants you anywhere near him, or if you want to stick around. This was supposed to be a nice afternoon by yourself, not another one haunted by ghosts of your past.

You miss the days when you knew how to act around Quinn, when you didn’t even have to think about it. 

“What’re you even doing here?” you ask, deflecting. “Surely you have no shortage of access to ice.” It’s teasing, but it feels forced. A reminder of the reason your friendship fell apart all those years ago. 

Quinn shrugs. “It’s nice, sometimes,” he says, “to get outside and skate like we used to as kids.”

You think you might understand, a little. “Yeah,” you say, speaking just as softly as Quinn.

“Haven’t seen you around much,” he says next.

That’s by design, a little bit. It hasn’t been hard, exactly, to avoid running into Quinn at the only place you know you have in common—the grocery store. 

“Been busy,” you lie. You go to work, you go home, alone. You’ve been dragged out to happy hour after work a few times with your new coworkers, but you always duck out after one drink. 

Quinn shoots you a sideways look like he can still see through you, even after a decade. He pulls out his phone, unlocks it, and hands it to you, before squatting down and beginning to untie your skates.

“Well, if you can spare some time, you still owe me a coffee,” he says, staring carefully at his fingers. You look up from typing your number into a new contact. “I owe you coffee?” you splutter. Quinn grins up at you, and you can’t help but laugh. You only have a vague idea of how much Quinn makes these days, but it is definitely more than you.

Quinn follows you over to the counter to return your skates. “You don’t have to leave just because I’m here,” he tells you.

You force yourself to smile at him over your shoulder. “Don’t flatter yourself, I just don’t think I’d be able to get up after another fall like that.” You’re already feeling stiff and cold from your hard landing on the ice. It might be a little bit to avoid making small talk with Quinn, too. “I’ll text you, okay?”

Your friendship with Quinn begins again in fits and starts after that. You do end up meeting for coffee: one sorta-painful Saturday morning, trying to fit a decade’s worth of the important stuff into an hour and a half. Quinn’s busier than you, practices and games and road trips, but he texts when he can. You find it easier than you expected to respond to his dumb memes and inane small talk. You dodge his attempts to hang out again. You’re not sure you’re ready for that, but you’re not entirely sure why.

Then, Quinn texts you that Jack and the Devils were going to be in town the next week, along with his parents. You didn’t even know Jack had gotten drafted to the Devils. Your heart aches for things you didn’t even know you were missing out on. 

You open the text, but don’t answer it for days. Quinn finally calls you.

“You know, my parents are going to be pissed if they find out you’re avoiding them,” he says when you answer. He almost sounds angry.

“Fuck, hello to you, too,” you snap. 

Quinn huffs. “Hi, you’ve been ignoring me,” he says. “C’mon, they’re looking forward to seeing you,” he adds. “My mom especially.”

You wish you could flip Quinn off right now. Ellen always was your favorite Hughes. You hadn’t even realized he had told his parents you were in Vancouver now. 

“Quinn, I haven’t been to a hockey game in years,” you try. It’s a weak excuse, and you both know it.

“So?” Quinn says. “Listen, my mom already got you an extra ticket, you have to come.” He pauses. “Even Jack is excited to see you,” he wheedles.

“Have you told everyone I moved to Vancouver?” you ask.

“Well, not everyone,” Quinn says. “Just my family, and a few teammates.”

“So, pretty much everyone,” you laugh.

“I was excited!” Quinn defends, but he’s also laughing. “It’s not everyday I run into my best friend after ten years.” He has a point there. “I’ll text you the details, okay?” Quinn is saying, and then he’s hanging up.

You end up getting dragged out to dinner with the four Hugheses the night before the game, despite your protests, citing family time and other shit that Ellen doesn’t buy. 

“You’re taller than me,” you complain, when Jack bounds out of Quinn’s car in front of the restaurant and wraps you in a hug. The last time you’d seen him you still had a few inches on him, at least. 

“You should see how tall Lukey is now,” Jack says. “He’s taller than both of us.” Jack is laughing, but you can hear how much it’s killing him that his baby brother is taller than him.

God, you hadn’t even thought about Luke. “Shit, is he in college now?” That can’t be right. 

Ellen smiles at you over her shoulder as you all head inside. “He just started his second year at Michigan.”

“He’s all the smartest out of all three of us,” Quinn whispers in your ear, a hand hovering over the small of your back. You imagine you can feel the heat of his palm across the distance and through your thin sweater.

It’s easier than you thought to lose yourself in the rhythm of conversation and get swept away in the controlled chaos that occurs with the Hughes family. You argue with Jack over appetizers, and you both take turns making fun of Quinn. It’s familiar, like a well-worn pair of shoes. 

Ellen turns to you after the dinner plates have been cleared away, and Jack and Quinn are bickering good-naturedly over who has to foot the bill. There’s a worried look in her eyes that immediately sets you on edge.

“I’d had no idea you moved out to Vancouver,” she starts. “It’s been so long since your mom and I chatted.” 

For as close as you and Quinn had been growing up, it only made sense that Ellen and your mom had become good friends, too, between supervising play dates and coordinating carpools. You hadn’t known if they’d kept in touch at all since the Hughes family moved to Michigan.

Ellen goes on. “Did that boy—oh, what’s his name—move with you?”

“Sam? Oh, no, that’s…over,” you say. That is the reason you moved across the continent at all. This isn’t the time or place for that part of the conversation, though. “Just me out here,” you say, uncomfortable.

“Sam?” Quinn asks, at the same time Jack says, “Who’s Sam?” Quinn looks worried, while Jack looks delighted by this development. 

You wave your hand in a way you hope seems nonchalant. “Just an ex-boyfriend.” That answer isn’t good enough for either of them; Quinn’s frown deepens, and Jack’s eyebrows go up. “We were together for a while, I don’t know, everyone thought he was it for me, I guess.” You had even thought that Sam was it for you.

You had never been more wrong.

The boys let it go, and you turn back to Ellen. She tsks. “That’s too bad, your mom said you two were so cute together.” 

You had been once, you supposed. “Yeah, well,” you say awkwardly. You’ve probably already said too much. You’re saved by the waitress delivering the bill, reigniting Jack and Quinn’s argument. 

Quinn hugs you tightly outside the restaurant. “We need to hang out more,” he says firmly. “Quit fucking avoiding me.” 

“Language,” Ellen warns from behind you. You laugh at the face Quinn makes. Jack ruffles your hair on the way past. You aim a kick at him, but he dodges you, cackling. You manage to grab onto the back of his shirt and reel him in for a hug, too.

“Missed you,” he admits. “Don’t be a stranger,” he adds. “Quinn knows where you live now, he will find you.” 

It would be threatening if you hadn’t known these boys since you were literal children, and if Jack weren’t still about as intimidating as a puppy. Still, Quinn’s looking seriously at you over Jack’s shoulder, and you don’t doubt that he will start showing up at your front door to drag you out of the apartment.

October bleeds into November. It becomes harder to avoid Quinn and his pointed texts, but the Canucks go on the road for a week, saving you from coming up with excuses. You know Quinn too well to expect that he’d let his mom’s mention of your ex go without an interrogation. 

But you slip up before Quinn gets the chance to confront you. Your anniversary with Sam is—was—November 14th. You buy a bottle of wine and drink it alone in your empty apartment. You find yourself calling Quinn without thinking about it, memories of years past blurring together.

“Hello?” Quinn mumbles when he answers the phone. Shit, you’d forgotten he’s on the East Coast—Boston? Buffalo? You’re not sure right now.

“Shit, sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” You feel like you’re on the verge of tears, and Quinn must be able to hear it through the phone. “Forget it, I’m sorry.” 

He sounds worried, more awake, when he speaks again. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” 

His words set something off in you, and you’re crying in between one breath and the next. So much has happened, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to tell the story and do it justice. You faintly hear Quinn sigh on the other end of the line. He’s quiet as you try to collect yourself, the minutes stretching out between you. 

“Am I always going to be alone?” you finally ask. You take a shuddery breath.

Quinn yawns, and you wince, suddenly remembering that you woke him because you were feeling melancholy. “What? Of course not, why would you even ask that?” Quinn doesn’t sound angry, just confused. 

“Everybody always leaves,” you whisper. 

Quinn left. A string of worthless ex-boyfriends before Sam all left. Sam had been the one, you’d thought, the one who would stay.

You ended up leaving before he could. 

“I’m not going anywhere this time,” Quinn says firmly. “Well, except for road trips, sometimes, and back to Michigan for the summer, I guess, but I’m bringing you with me to Michigan anyway, and you know what I mean.”

You giggle in spite of yourself. “I’m sorry for waking you,” you say again, fighting back a yawn of your own. Your head is starting to hurt.

There’s muffled rustling on Quinn’s end that tells you he’s shrugging. You’re still lying on your living room floor. You should probably move, go to bed, something. You drag a blanket off your couch and over yourself. Just a few more minutes. 

You wake up to your phone alarm blaring next to your head the next morning. You groan and roll over. You never did make it to bed, and you’re sore and stiff from laying on your floor all night. You slap at your phone to turn your alarm off. It’s nearly dead, another consequence of falling asleep on the floor. 

You drag yourself into the kitchen for a glass of water and a phone charger. Your call log is still open. The call with Quinn lasted hours; Quinn must have only ended it when he woke up this morning. You should probably apologize for drunk dialing and wallowing, again. 

There’s a text waiting for you from Quinn, too: you owe me coffee again 💤

You roll your eyes and dislike the message to be annoying. 

Quinn shows up at your door a few days later with coffee in hand. He shoulders his way past you before you can make up an excuse about being busy, despite the fact that it’s a Saturday morning and you’re definitely still in pajamas, and thrusts one of the cups of coffee at you.

You take it, suspicious. “I thought I was supposed to be buying you coffee, not the other way around,” you grumble. Quinn got your coffee order right, because of course he did. 

“I’ll send you a Venmo request or something,” Quinn says, unconcerned. “Are you mad at me?” 

You don’t know what you were expecting Quinn to say, but it definitely wasn’t that. “Am I— what?” 

“Are you mad at me? For leaving Toronto?”

You were, once. That anger faded a long time ago, though, softened by nostalgia and simply missing your best friend. “What? No, not any more.” “Not any more?” Quinn echoes.

“I mean, I was, when we were younger, but that was stupid.” It wasn’t really Quinn’s fault, and, seeing how far he’s gotten now, you really can’t blame him for wanting to follow hockey for as long as he could. 

“You said everybody leaves,” Quinn insists. “I left you.”

“Quinny, we were kids,” you say. “I’m not mad at you for something that happened over a decade ago, oh my God.”

“But you said—”

“I’m just tired of dating shitty guys, okay?”

“Oh.” Quinn takes a sip of his coffee. He opens his mouth, ready to argue some more.

“I’m not having any more of this conversation without coffee,” you say. You wave the cup of coffee in your hand for emphasis. 

Quinn drops it after that.

Weeks pass. Quinn grows more insistent on spending time with you, whether it’s at your apartment or his, or sneaking in a breakfast or lunch not-date when your schedules allow. He even invites you to hang out with a few of his teammates, and you spend one surprisingly nice evening squished between Quinn and Brock on Quinn’s couch, playing video games that you’re not particularly good at. You and Brock spend most of the time ganging up on Quinn for some light bullying, much to Quinn’s despair.

You keep expecting Quinn to bring up Sam and your relationship again. He never does, but you see the way he watches you sometimes, the same “worried older brother” look he used to cast upon Jack and Luke. After a while, you and Quinn settle into a rhythm of friendship, not unlike the one you had when you were kids. You talk frequently, you hang out when you can. 

You fan the flames of a childhood crush you thought had been extinguished a long time ago.

“Hey, are you going home for Christmas?” Quinn says randomly one afternoon in December. He’s sitting on your couch, craning his neck around to see you where you’re standing in your kitchen. 

“Uh? No?” You’re still close enough with your family, but they understand why you avoid Toronto pretty much these days. There’s too many ruined relationships haunting those streets.

Quinn huffs. “What are you running from?” His face does something complicated before settling on worried again. “He didn’t, like, hurt you, did he?”

“Sam? No, absolutely not.” You reconsider. “I mean, like, emotionally, yeah, but that was just the break-up.”

Quinn cracks a small smile, but he still looks concerned. “So, you’re really not going home because of him?”

You shrug. “Easier to avoid running into an ex if you’re not even in the same city. Besides, I kinda…cut all ties and got out of dodge. It’s too awkward to go back now.” 

Quinn’s eyebrows furrow like he’s trying to figure out what question he wants to ask next. “You really—” He switches tacks. “Do you—like—I’m going to Michigan, and it’s only for, like, a day, but you know my mom would love to have you, but only if you want, and—” He takes a deep breath. “Do you want to come to Michigan for Christmas?”

You stare at Quinn, unsure how to react. There was once a time when you were as comfortable in the Hughes’ house as your own. That was a long time ago, in a house in a different country. You feel like you and Quinn have been dancing around the question of whether or not your friendship could be something more—that tenuous moment from when you were 10 still not forgotten—and this feels like crossing that unspoken line somehow. 

Quinn looks unsure now, watching you hesitantly from across the room. 

“I don’t know, Quinn,” you say finally. “I don’t want to impose, and you barely get to see your family as it is—”

Quinn waves a hand at you. “Luke will be out in Halifax for World Junior’s by then, and I’m serious, you know Mom would love to have you.” He frowns. “You shouldn’t have to be alone on Christmas.”

It would be nice to not be alone for the holidays. You glance over at your sad little Christmas tree, still undecorated in a corner of your living room. 

Still, “I’ll be fine,” you insist. 

You expect Quinn to let it go, the way he lets a lot of things go with you lately. He’s been careful, afraid to push you into difficult conversations since you reconnected. Instead, he frowns harder and crosses his arms at you.

You’re almost glad for it, mentally preparing yourself for a fight.

“You’re coming to Michigan,” he says firmly. “I’ll book your fucking flight myself if I have to.”

“Q—” you start, but Quinn’s not done.

“What are you so afraid of? What did your ex do to you that you’re so scared to let people in? Ever since you’ve been in Vancouver, you keep everyone at a distance, even me. We used to tell each other everything.”

You don’t have the words to respond. You turn on your heel and stalk off towards your bedroom. You hear Quinn call your name, but you ignore him. You yank your bedside table drawer open, fishing around blindly until your hand closes around the item you’re looking for. You head back towards the living room. 

Quinn’s still standing there with his arms crossed, looking angry and confused and hurt all at once. 

You throw the object in your hand at Quinn. He catches it easily. Hockey player reflexes.

“A ring box? I don’t understand.” He opens the box carefully. Inside, nestled in the velvet, is a beautiful, sparkling engagement ring. Quinn stares at it, open-mouthed. 

“We were supposed to get married,” you tell Quinn. Your voice sounds hollow, even to your own ears. “Sam and I, next summer.” Quinn takes the ring out of the box and turns it over in his hand. It glints in the light. “We’d met in college. God, I was so in love.” 

“I still don’t—I don’t get it.” 

You continue. “I came home from work one day and found him fucking one of our friends. Had been going on for a while, apparently. We were in the middle of planning the wedding, we were about to buy a house, everything. I was going to ask her to be one of my bridesmaids.” You let out a humorless laugh. You realize your eyes are wet. “I cleaned all my shit out of our apartment while he was at work a few days later, hid out at my parents’ for a few days. I think I had everything settled to move to Vancouver within a couple weeks.” 

You watch as Quinn slots the ring back into its box. 

You had needed the distance. It wouldn’t have been long before all of your friends found out about Sam, and you didn’t think you could handle the endless explanations of why your engagement had ended. Plus, Vancouver had brought Quinn back to you, and that was easily the best part of your year.

Quinn finally seems to notice your crying. “Hey, come here,” he says gently, opening his arms for you. You step into them without hesitation, letting Quinn wrap you in a hug. You let yourself linger, safe and comfortable in Quinn’s arms. 

“You know, I used to be taller than you,” you mumble into Quinn’s chest. Those years had been nice. Quinn doesn’t tower over you now, but you’re tucked neatly under his chin. He pinches your side. You jerk and squirm away, laughing.

Quinn grabs you by the wrist suddenly, bringing your hand close to his face to inspect it. “What is this?” he asks, twisting the little, braided green bracelet around his finger until it tightens against your wrist.

You try to tug your hand away, but Quinn holds on. 

“It’s a bracelet, Q, I know you’ve seen them before.” Quinn pinches you again, gently on the skin of your forearm this time. You whine at him.

“I gave this to you,” he says. It’s not a question. He finally tears his eyes away from the bracelet and looks at you. “I gave this to you,” he repeats, “when we were like, ten.”

“Yeah,” you say, helpless. You had no idea Quinn even remembered that day, or giving you the bracelet. 

“You still wear it?” he asks. You shrug. “That was, like, over ten years ago, what the hell.”

You finally pull your hand free from Quinn. You shrug again, uncomfortable. “I didn’t start wearing it regularly until you moved to Michigan.” It had been a nice reminder of your best friend, and after a while, you honestly forgot it was tied around your wrist.

“I almost kissed you that day,” Quinn says thoughtfully. 

If you were drinking something, you probably would have choked. You’re suddenly very aware of how closely you and Quinn are still standing. Quinn pauses. You can hear your own heartbeat in your ears. 

“Can I kiss you now?” he asks, softly.

You nod before you can even think about it, winding your arms around Quinn’s neck and letting him pull you in by the hips. It’s better than it would have been at 10, yet it’s exactly what you breathlessly wished for all those years ago. Quinn’s lips move easily against yours, just as gentle as he always is with you.

When you pull away to catch your breath, you rest your forehead on Quinn’s shoulder. You’re both silent for a long moment.

“I have a confession,” you say.

“Another one?” Quinn squeezes your hip.

“I don’t think I’m ready for another relationship,” you admit.

Quinn squeezes your hip again. “Baby, I’ve been waiting on you since we were kids.” You laugh, smacking Quinn on the back of the head. “Ow, hey. This just means I get to woo you, yeah?”

You laugh harder. “Never fucking say that again, oh my God.”

Quinn sways a little bit, and you rock with him. “I mean it. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.”

“D’you promise?”

“Promise.” Quinn steps over to the couch, and you let him tug you until you land next to him. You rest your head on his shoulder again. “You definitely have to come home with me for Christmas now.”

You lob a decorative pillow at his head as he dissolves into laughter.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Are they on the Naughty List? Or have they’ve been good all year?Well that’s for you to decide.

Start:November 12

End: December 31

«timeline»

◇ day 1-7: {Nov 12-18}

Day 1: Luis Sera - Ice Skating

Day 2: Carlos Oliveira - “I can’t believe you did that to Santa…”

Day3: Raiden - “I made you some hot cocoa.”

Day 4: Peter Parker - we were going to a Christmas party but fuck if you don’t just look sinful in red, and you know what? Fuck that Christmas party || Insomniac Peter ||

Day5:Goro Takemura- Dancing In The Snow

Day 6:Johhny Cage-Sucking on a Candy Cane

Day 7: Peter Quill- “are you really playing christmas music already? it’s barely november”

◇ day 8-14: {Nov 19-25}

Day 8:Gale Dekarios-Watching the snowfall from inside a cosy house

Day 9:Sam Drake-“Carmel apples, leaves falling down. What could better then November?” “I don’t know maybe fucking June?”

Day 10:Peter Parker -we got a little too carried away with the Christmas lights, and now suddenly my hands are bound with the lights and oh my god are we about to have sex? || Insomniac Peter ||

Day 11:Nathan Drake- it’s holiday dinner with your family, and oh Jesus where are your hands going?

Day 12:Peter Parker-“Do you need help hanging up the Christmas lights?” || MCU verse ||

Day 13: Peter Parker-“HAPPY NOVEMBER!” “No one wishes anyone a happy November.” “Well I just did.”|| MCU verse ||

Day 14:Tadashi Hamada-one lending the other their scarf to keep them warm.

◇ day 15-21 {Nov 26-Dec 2}

Day 15:Jacob Seed-Handing their S/O a positive pregnancy test with a sprig of holly and a note reading ‘Merry Christmas’

Day 16:Spencer Reid-Baking holiday cookies.

Day 17:Alejandro Vargas-Reader wearing nothing but a Santa hat

Day 18:Loki-A naughty sleigh ride || Exhibitionism sex ||

Day 19:Alex Casey-Build A snowman.

Day 20:Chris Redfield-“Let’s do something that puts us on the naughty list.”

Day 21:Mike Schmidt-Santa Baby: reader has decided to dress as Mrs. Claus for a little more “adult” Christmas fun. Oh boy!

◇ day 22-28 {Dec 3 -9}

Day 22:Matt Murdock-I picked you for secret Santa but I wrapped the wrong box so now I’ve given you a very festive sex toy, and oh my god this is so embarrassing

Day 23:Halsin-“Breasts/thighs are my favorite part to nibble on.”

Day 24:Miguel O’Hara-“You know, tying the legs together keeps everything moist.”

Day 25:Ethan Winters-Christmas Morning.

Day 26: Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish-Hanging Stockings.

Day 27:Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley-“The turkey’s not the only thing getting stuffed today.”

Day 28:Modern!Mizu-“Save some of that whipped cream for later.”*soon*

◇ day 29- 35 {Dec 10-16}

Day 29:Bigby Wolf-“You look even more beautiful covered in snow.”

Day 30:Harry Osborn-Christmas shenanigans under the tree, if you know what I mean

Day 31:Ethan Winters-“I’ll be content if you are the one stuffing my stocking.”

Day 32:Mike Schmidt-“Go on, open it.”

Day 33:Wyll Ravengard-“Did you decorate the tree without me? I can’t believe this!”

Day 34: Bruno Madrigal-Kiss Me Under The Mistletoe.

Day 35:Jordan Li-“Excuse me—where is my Christmas kiss?”

◇ day 36-42 {Dec 17-23}

Day 36:Mike Schmidt-"Why are there so many mistletoe?"

Day 37:Gojo“I’d like to be one of the unhealthy things you put inside your body this weekend.”*Soon*

Day 38:Luis Sera-“Alright, mister. I know you’re the one who keeps hanging up mistletoe everywhere."

Day 39:Chris Redfield-“Thanksgiving is for giving thanks” “And for body slamming each other during the family football match!”

Day 40:Aaron Hotchner-The scent of real Christmas trees

Day 41: Derek Morgan -“I’m going to have you stuffed better than the turkey by the end of the night.”

Day 42:Victor "Sully" Sullivan-“I’m not much of a cook, but I’m good at glazing.”

◇ day 43-50 {Dec 24-31}

Day 43:Leon S. Kennedy-Cabin Sex { Christmas Eve sex }

Day 44: Billy Butcher-“Merry Christmas, motherfuckers!”

Day 45: Bucky Barnes-“Did you spike the eggnog again?”

Day 46: Spencer Ried-“Will you make a gingerbread house with me?”

Day 47: Clint Barton- “It’s Snowing”

Day 48: Joel-Peppermint-flavoured everything

Day 49:Mizu-Snow/temperature play

Day 50:Johnny Cage-“It’s time for hand turkey’s everyone.” “FUCK YES YES!”

[babytarttdoodoo]

kind of a rouge prompt idea but “i just told a story at work about my childhood that i thought was really funny but now everyone is super quiet and someone said i’m so sorry” but it’s jamie + the team edition. like he talks about a traumatising James Thing and has no idea how horrifying it is until they’re all like …… wtf

love your writing! <3

Thanks for the prompt (and the lovely compliment)!

I’ll preface this by saying I have next to no knowledge of dentistry and you should not assume any medical assertions made here are correct.

((I also feel like I should add that I finished this one off while more than a little tipsy.))

Enjoy the himbo chaos.

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

—

“Ay, dios mio, it was terrifying.” Dani put an emphatic hand to his chest. “Earl. He still haunts me.”

“Thought you were over that, bruv.” Isaac frowned up at him from his usual spot on the locker bench.

“On the pitch, yes. But at night…” Dani shook his head mournfully. “I have dreams of being chased in the dark. I know it is him.”

“I used to have dreams like that.” Colin piped up, pausing in tying his laces and looking haunted. “‘Cept it was my nana chasing me, on her mobility scooter.”

A few people sniggered and Isaac clapped Colin’s shoulder. “That’s fucked up.”

“I never remember my dreams,” Sam mused. “But I have always been a very deep sleeper. My father says I was the envy of all other parents when I was a baby.”

“I have only ever had one nightmare.” Richard declared. “All of my beautiful little teeth fell out of my mouth and I was ugly. Who will kiss me if I have no teeth?”

“Who’s losing teeth?” Jamie asked, joining the conversation from the doorway with a furrowed brow.

“We are discussing nightmares,” Jan explained matter-of-factly, then turned back to Richard. “Dreams about losing teeth are commonly attributed to stress.”

Jamie shook his head, still looking confused.

“Nah, don’t get that one, mate. Your dentist can just stick ‘em right back in, can’t they?”

That sparked a round of horrified protests and Jamie flapped his hands like a conductor to quiet the rabble.

“Eh, eh, I’m right!”

“Actually…” Sam held up his phone, open on an NHS webpage. “Jamie is correct.”

The locker room erupted into disgust and outrage while Jamie grinned smugly and tipped his I,COG cap to Sam for the assist.

“Hold on, how did you know that?” Isaac demanded, staring at Jamie like he had two heads. That quietened the team a little as heads swivelled in Jamie’s direction.

“Knocked two of ‘em out when I were, like, 10.” He shrugged and tapped a fingernail against one of his front teeth in demonstration. “Mum’s friend were a dental nurse. Told her to put them in some milk and take me to hospital.”

“You were very lucky.” Sam commented, still scrolling through the information he had found. “A significant gap in your teeth can lead to premature ageing.”

“And what a tragedy that would have been, eh?” Jamie beamed, gesturing to his face. “To think I might have deprived the world of this top tier mug.”

Other players groaned and laughed, a few tossing socks or discarded shirts in Jamie’s direction while he ducked, sniggering.

“How do you know they gave you your real teeth back?” Bumbercatch questioned, with an air that suggested great suspicion of the dentistry profession as a whole.

Jamie considered that. “Fair point,” he conceded. “They feel like mine, though.”

“Wait, how do you even manage to lose two teeth at once?” Colin interjected, muffled by his fingers as he prodded his own mouth in confusion. “I’ve never lost any after my baby teeth.”

“Took a snooker cue to the face.” The team winced as a collective and Jamie nodded sagely. “Were pretty grim. Blood all over the pub floor and everything.”

“You were 10?” Thierry clarified, face scrunched up. “Do kids normally get into bar fights here?”

“Well, yeah, s’pose not.” Jamie shuffled in place, suddenly looking a bit uncomfortable. “Weren’t a fight so much. Dad took me in to watch a match and it all kicked off a bit.”

An uneasy quiet overtook the general hubbub and more than one face went stony at that revelation.

“Mate.” Jeff looked like he’d rather not be the one probing further, but had bitten the bullet anyway. “Your, uh, your dad wasn’t the one with the pool cue, was he?”

“Eh…” Jamie glanced around the room before answering. “Well, yeah. He was. But I’m, like, 90% sure it were an accident.”

Chaos detonated like a bomb.

Isaac and Richard jumped to their feet, one cursing in French, the other demanding to know how long it would take to get to Manchester. Colin seemed to be googling train times.

Dani had taken to rifling through his bag, looking for god knows what, and Thierry was strapping on his mask like it was war paint (he didn’t even need it anymore, he just liked looking scary).

Jan was a terrifyingly silent pillar in the middle of the storm and Sam… Well, Sam looked like he had been gutted.

“OI!” Roy’s bellow commanded immediate silence, players freezing mid-shout. He was framed by the door to the coaches’ office, arms crossed and typical glare set in place. “What the fuck is going on out here?”

“Close ranks!” Jamie all but squeaked, invoking a hallowed, sacred vow from the team to collectively shut the fuck up.

All eyes turned to Issac who, as captain, had the final say.

On balance, he decided it was probably best that their new manager didn’t get arrested for murder before the season even got underway.

“Agreed.” he finally acquiesced and the whole room affirmed their compliance sullenly. It just wasn’t worth the forfeit to cave in under Roy’s (very effective) glare.

“... right then.” Roy finally allowed, still looking at them all suspiciously. “Then get out on the pitch and stop wasting our time.”

Everyone clamoured towards the tunnel, eager to escape the intense atmosphere. All except Jamie, who was still hurriedly pulling on his kit.

He tried not to seize up when Roy sidled over.

“You’ll tell me later.”

It wasn’t phrased as a question and Jamie knew better than to take it as one. He slumped in defeat.

“Yeah. Probably.”

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Twin Flame - Invisible String (CACW Version)

"Time, mystical time, cuttin' me open, then healin' me fine. Were there clues I didn't see? And isn't it just so pretty to think, all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?"

Pairing: Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Bucky Barnes The Twin Flame Chapter List | The Grumpy x Sunshine Universe

"They don't offer visas for weapons of mass destruction!" Tony booms.

"And what about-"

"Oh no," Tony incredulously chuckles, cutting off Steve's question before he can even finish it. "You can't put that on me. If Pinkie wants to go galavant around with you and Sam, that's her choice. I offered to keep her safe in the Compound."

"That's not safety, that's internment."

"It's more than you or Sam can offer," Tony refutes. "But neither of you will stop and think about the consequences, will you? The consequences that neither of you will pay, but she sure as hell will."

"So you'd lock her up before Ross even gets the chance to?"

"And you'd send her to a life on the run," Tony retorts. "All because you can't get off your high horse."

"This isn't about me. Do you understand what you're asking here? She signs, she will never make another decision for herself. She will never get to be a person. Ever."

"And she won't get to do your bidding anymore?"

"Jesus, Tony." Steve frustratedly shakes his head. "She can think for herself."

"But she's not!" Tony booms. "She's doing what you and Sam want her to."

"Have you ever thought that maybe she never wanted to sign? Maybe she doesn't like the idea of being an asset! You know, every time I think you're seeing this the right way-"

"She is a ward of the state, Steve! Do you get that? And you're giving Ross everything he needs to keep her locked up for life!"

"She trusts you, Tony, she considers you a friend. And you're asking her to sign her life away."

"I'm trying to give her a life. A real life. A family. Everything she's every wanted and then some."

"You just don't get it, Tony," Steve whispers, pain coating every single syllable. "A gold cage is still a cage."

-

"For the record, this is not staying out of it," Nat scolds as the guard uncuffs you.

"What?" you dramatically scoff. "This was just one big misunderstanding."

She looks at you with pursed lips and an unimpressed expression. "Really? So what are you doing in Berlin?"

"Sightseeing," you automatically respond, proud at yourself for the effortless way the lie fell off your lips. 

"Mhm... and what exactly did you go see?" You falter for the shortest of moments. Your shoulders slump in defeat, knowing she's already caught you in the lie. She shakes her head with a chuckle, "Make sure you prepare the lie ahead of time for future reference."

"Noted."

She starts guiding you down to a hall where Tony and Steve are currently waiting for you. "Care to explain why Sam dragged you all the way to Berlin?"

"You know why," you breathe. 

She remorsefully sighs. "I get Ross freaked him out, but getting arrested is certainly not helping your case. Don't give Ross any more reason to force your hand."

You rub at your tender wrists, "Well, we didn't plan on getting arrested!"

"Could those cuffs even hold you?" she quietly jokes.

"No," you chuckle. "I was just being nice."

The smile leaves her face as she scans the corridor for listening ears. Her voice drops to a quiet murmur. "What do you stand to gain from this?"

"What?"

"Steve, Tony, they'll be fine. They'll come out of this unscathed, but you don't. You don't win here. You won't win like this. You don't get out of this free - Steve and Tony can."

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. You knew she didn't approve, but you never thought she'd be this upset at you refusing to be a bystander. "Nat..."

"You won't come unscathed," she emphasizes in a low, warning tone. "Believe me. This could cost you everything."

"I just want to do what's right. If we lose, we lose together, remember?"

"For once, think of yourself. Think of what will happen to you." She gives your shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Just don't let them back you into a corner, okay? Don't let them make you a villain in this story." 

"Okay," you promise. 

-

"You okay?"

"I'm not the one that got pushed down an elevator shaft," you quip. 

"Why'd you go after-" Steve starts, a concerned look painting his face. 

"I think you're right, Steve," you blurt.

"Right about?"

"He hesitated. Your friend, I don't - I don't know, but he hesitated."

"Hold on, hold on, just walk me through exactly what happened," Steve prompts.

You nod, taking a large gulp of air. "I was just down the hallway with Nat when the power went down, and I saw him tackle Sam down. He pushed you down the elevator, Nat went one way. And I know I'm supposed to be staying out of it, but I followed him."

"And?"

"His arm, it's made of vibranium like your shield. He heard me coming from behind him, I sort of grabbed his arm. I swear I wasn't trying to shove him that hard, but he fell down some stairs, his head hit one of the steps so I went to make sure I didn't, you know?" you insinuate with a wince. Steve nods, waiting for you to continue. "But when I went to look, he sorta popped back up. Steve, he could've killed me right there. I know that he could've, but he didn't. He just watched me for a second, and then he took off again."

"He hesitated," Steve murmurs under his breath.

"I know what he did to Nick, Steve," you remorsefully mumble. "I wouldn't be saying anything that I didn't really believe."

"And what do you believe?" Steve gently asks.

"He just, he looked..." you falter, fumbling for an accurate portrayal of a moment that was so fleeting and yet carried so much weight. Steve catches your eye again, silently urging you on. "He looked trapped."

"Want to tell me what the hell that was about?" Tony furiously questions as he strides into the room.

You already had the inkling that Tony saw your actions, or more accurately, your inaction earlier. You just hoped that he would've taken that as you being scared in the face of the Winter Soldier, but from the tone of his words you know that he knows there was more happening. You immediately begin apologizing profusely, "I'm so sorry, Tony. I guess I just - I hesitated-"

"No, I saw you. On the staircase, you had him and you let him go, and I want to know why!" Tony demands, his voice seething with rage.

"Tony," Steve chides, a little taken aback by Tony's vitriol that had never been directed at you.

"I already told you -" you start.

"You're a terrible liar, you know that? How about you try the truth this time!?"

"Tony," Steve admonishes once again.

Your eyes remain downcast as you finally admit what ran through your mind as the Winter Soldier stood in front of you while you did nothing to capture him. "He's a person, Tony. Just a person."

Tony scoffs, throwing his hands up. "Of course, leave it to you to try to find the humanity in the Winter Soldier. He killed Nick Fury. He killed the person who rescued you! Did you forget that? Better question, what happened to staying out of it?"

"I know, I know, but I think-"

"That's the thing, you didn't think!" Tony snaps. "Do you even realize what you just did? All that talking to Ross, making a case for you, all of it gone. You just proved to Ross today that you're a loose cannon."

"I'm sorry, Tony. I - I just I looked at him, right in his eyes and -"

"Oh, that's great, really great! I'll be sure to tell Ross you spared the guy because you thought he had pretty eyes."

And while you and Tony both knew you weren't talking about the color of his eyes, and though you most certainly weren't going to admit that to Tony, you were captivated by the vastness carried in his eyes.

For those few short seconds, you were mesmerized by what you swore upon every star that you saw. It was like there was an entirely different person trapped, begging and pleading for help as he was drowning in the depths of those ocean blue eyes. 

"That's enough, Tony," Steve curtly warns for the last time. "You're asking her to apologize for having mercy."

"Mercy?" Tony incredulously repeats. "That's mercy? Mercy is sending him to a psychiatric facility instead of a Wakandan prison. Not letting him go!"

"I didn't-"

"But you did!" Tony angrily exclaims. "And if anyone else gets hurt, that's on you two."

-

"I guess it was time to get off my ass," Wanda replies.

"Well, it was about time," you quip.

Wanda playfully gasps as you emerge from the backseat of the car. "I can't believe it. Sam finally let you out to play."

"Ha-ha," you sarcastically chortle. "But wrong, because Sam doesn't even want me here."

"No, I don't." Sam shoots you a halfhearted glare. "And you know exactly why."

"I couldn't just let you guys have all the fun." You step around Sam, taking a few steps forward. You stand in front of Wanda for a moment, throwing your arms around her in the next.

"I missed you," she murmurs.

"Being grounded in the Compound not all it's cracked up to be?"

"Like being handcuffed to Sam is any better," she scoffs.

"Missed you too."

-

"So what's her deal?" Bucky asks Steve, nudging his head in your direction.

"Her deal?" Steve chuckles, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Single, if that's what you mean."

"Funny," Bucky scoffs, rolling his eyes at Steve. "What's she doing here?"

"What are any of us doing here?" Steve questions, a slight huff of laughter as he watches you and Sam share some incredibly long, elaborate secret handshake.

"Are you done being a smart ass?" Bucky impatiently prompts.

"Alright, alright," Steve acquiesces. "It's Sam mostly. At least that's what I think, you didn't hear that from me."

"Sam?"

Steve shrugs. "Her story is... complicated."

"Ha," Bucky grunts in clear disbelief.

"I would argue as complicated as yours," Steve continues.

"Should I be insulted?"

"No," Steve assures, his voice a light laughter at Bucky's defensiveness. "She was a SHIELD asset. Best thing they ever stumbled on. Person in captivity. Clean slate. She just never quite fit the mold. 'Specially not with Sam watching out for her."

"Sam was her handler?" Bucky guesses.

"From what I know, yes. Even now, where she goes, he goes. He goes, she goes."

"Doesn't sound that complicated to me. So they're together?"

"No, not in the slightest," Steve barks out a laugh. Steve's mouth remorsefully twists, trying to determine how much of your story he was at liberty to divulge without your permission, "SHIELD wanted things from her, had this idea of what she should be. It was unnerving, watching them try to take advantage of a person that didn't understand this world."

"Captivity?"

"Born and bred. Didn't see the light of day for the first 25 years of her life."

"But she's so...?" Bucky trails off, the four of you still waiting in the parking lot for the rest of your ragtag team.

"I know," Steve snickers, fondly smiling at you. "She's tough. Didn't matter what SHIELD through at her, she never folded."

"And now?"

"I don't know," Steve winces, shaking his head. "It's not really my story to tell."

Bucky snorts. "Who am I gonna tell?"

"Is there a reason you're this interested?"

"There's a reason you're deflecting," Bucky counters.

"It's complicated," Steve repeats. "SHIELD owned her. Like really owned her."

"But SHIELD fell... so she's free?"

"Sam doesn't think so. He won't admit it, but he's scared. How do you argue the freedom of a person that no one knows exists? A person that no one has ever considered a person?" And that statement really strikes a chord with Bucky - because isn't that exactly what Steve is doing for him? Isn't that exactly what he's been for 70 years? "SHIELD's gone, but what's stopping the government from staking their claim? She's not a citizen, of anywhere, no home, nothing. A ward of the state, really. Sam thinks that they're gonna come for her. He wants to keep her out of the fight, but he's not letting her out of his sight any time soon. It's how she ended up here in Berlin."

"And what do you think?"

"I think that she's here to do what's right."

"You think they'll come for her?"

Steve's mouth quickly opens, only to shut again. He waits for a moment, clearly thinking his answer through. "I don't know."

Before Bucky can probe any more, an announcement rings out. For a moment, the playful reunion between you, Wanda, Sam, and Clint comes to a halt. Now was the time for a fight.

"They're evacuating the airport."

-

"As much as I hate to admit it, if we're going to win this one, some of us are going to have to lose."

Sam looks at you, a pleading expression on his face. You know he's asking you to make a quiet escape, to leave while you still have the chance. He also knows you won't do that, you've never been one to stand aside when you could help. 

You offer him a crooked smile and a languid shrug, letting him know you're ready and willing to accept the consequences of your actions today. Whatever they would end up being for you.

"They're headed for the Quinjet," Tony informs Rhodey.

Before he can take off to stop Steve and Bucky, you catch the foot of Tony's suit, pulling the metal suit back to the ground against all the force of his propellers to keep him grounded.

"What the-?" he starts, his sarcastic tone dropping when he sees you standing there, maintaining an invisible grip on him. He deeply breathes, "Sam really just can't keep you out of it, can he?"

"I don't want to fight you, Tony," you implore.

"You don't know what you're doing. There's nothing that hasn't been done that can't be fixed, but you're about to cross a line, Pinkie."

"Then don't draw one. We don't have to do this, we don't have to pick sides."

He gestures to you, pinning him to the ground, "A little too late for that, don't you think?"

"I'm not choosing anything."

"What? You think because he's easy on the eyes he's not a cold-blooded murderer? Because he flashed you a smile, he won't kill you the first chance he gets?"

You wince at the coldness of Tony's words. "I just want to do what's right. That's all I want."

He scoffs, "By protecting a murder? Or because you only listen to Sam says?"

You suck in a breath, desperately not trying to take personal offense to Tony's words. You know they come from a place of hurt, that your friend wouldn't say these things about you. "You know how this ends for me, Tony. You know what they'll do."

"No one's going to hand you over to Ross. We can protect you!"

The corner of your mouth lifts in a sad, remorseful smile, "I've heard that one before."

You flinch as the sounds of Wanda's screams, and Tony looks over to the hangar just in time to see Steve and Bucky make it past the collapsing flight tower.

"Let me go, Pinkie. Now," he demands. You wordlessly shake your head, your lips remorsefully pulling in. He slowly raises his arm, aiming one of his shooters directly at you. "Please don't make me do this."

You both watch as the Quinjet takes off. He sucks in a sharp, angry breath. You see the bright blue light charging as the cannon remains locked on you, you quietly offer, "I'm sorry, Tony."

A loud mechanical whirring emanates from the device. "Me too."

-

The moment those words left your mouth, Sam's head snapped over his shoulder just in time to see the person you both called a friend raise his canon and take the shot.

He still remembers what was running through his head as Tony took aim at you: there was no way you were going to actually let him shoot you, you wouldn't do that, you were going to jump out of the way, you were going to realize that your life meant more than winning this stupid battle for this stupid civil war.

"What are you doing?" Sam frantically speaks into the comms device, trying to reach you before it's too late, "This is not the plan. I repeat, this is not the plan."

But it was clear to Sam that you were both too far gone to hear anything anyone else was saying. Tony too angry. And you too willing to give yourself up as the sacrificial lamb.

It happened so fast, yet the moment seemed to last a lifetime. 

The blow sending you hurling back, your body skid against the pavement, only for your head to smack against the ground with a sickening crack. It seemed like the moment stopped everyone, he could almost hear the collective gasps from his team mates. It seemed like everyone watched in abject horror. No one could believe it. No one could believe that this is what had become of your team, your found family.

He remembered trying to convince himself that you were just going to pop back up, that you would stand up and bellow an assurance to your team that you were okay.

None of those things happened.

Before he knew it, he was diving to dodge a blast from Vision, one that sends Rhodey hurling to the ground. 

It was all a blur, scrambling across the airfield to make it to you. And what he found would forever imprinted in his memory. He found you all alone, sprawled out on the pavement, unmoving.

"Oh God," he quietly gasps, awkwardly landing on the ground. He barely lands on his feet, too focused on making sure you were okay.

"Hey, hey, you have to get up now," he frantically nudges you, scooping you up in his arms. Completely unresponsive, your head slumps back. He taps at your cheeks, shaking you as hard as he can, still no response. He raises his two fingers to check your pulse, and relief only incrementally comes when he feels your pulse still beating underneath his fingertips. "Please, you have to get up. Come on, please, get up." 

He removes his head from the back of your head, only to find his hand now covered in your blood. 

"Help, we need help over here!" he screams, pleading with whoever would listen. "Please, please, please, we need help!"

Help never came.

Instead, he had to helplessly watch as your unconscious body is thrown with the rest of Team Cap onto an armored truck to haul you away to the Raft. 

"Don't touch her. Don't you touch her!" he screams as they tear your unmoving body from him.

Then, he watches them throw you on the floor of the truck like you aren't an actual human being.

For that split second, he hates Tony Stark.

For that split second, he hates Bucky Barnes.

For that split second, he hates Steve Rogers.

He hates everything and everyone that brought you that close to death.

-

"How's Rhodes?" Sam asks, feeling Tony's gaze on the back of his head from across the glass barrier.

"Flying him to Columbia Medical tomorrow so... Fingers crossed." Tony stops speaking, taking a moment to choose his next words very carefully, "What do you need? They feed you yet?"

Donning a full prisoner's uniform, Sam turns around with an incredulous chuckle,"You're the good cop now?"

"I'm just the guy who needs to know where Steve went."

Sam angrily crosses his arms. "Well, you're gonna have to go get a bad cop because you're gonna have to go Mark Fuhrman on my ass to get anything out of me. Or, you know, just shoot me down, you're good at that."

“I knew it wouldn’t,” Tony stops, even as the words leave his mouth he hears how vile they sound. He still says them anyway, “I knew it wouldn’t actually kill her.”

Clint loudly guffaws from across the room, "You hear that? He didn't think it would kill her when he shot her point blank. Stark friendship at its kindest!"

Sam bitterly snorts, shaking his head at Tony, “Do you hear yourself? You shot a supposed friend down. You shot her. And now she’s somewhere in this God forsaken prison.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you kept dragging her into your fights!" Tony seethes. "Can't fight your own battles so she’ll do it for you, right, Sam? You talk about SHIELD, about Ross, when you’re no better, you’ll exploit her without a second thought. She trusts you without a second thought and you take advantage at every turn. Don’t blame me. Blame yourselves.”

"Anything to not blame yourself, right?" Sam counters, schooling his expression to hide the sting of Tony's words.

Tony's words hit him in his most vulnerable spot, so hard that it feels like he can't breathe. Because no matter how much Sam doesn't want the words to ring true, he can't shake off the sense that Tony is right, that you're only on the Raft, chained up and alone, because of him.

"I just knocked the A out of AV. We got about 30 seconds before they realize it's not their equipment. I was wrong, Sam. That's clear to me." Tony flashes him a small holographic screen, an image of an unconscious man in a suit strewn on the ground, "Just look, because that is the guy that was supposed to interrogate Barnes. Clearly I made a mistake, Sam. I was wrong. Now tell me where Steve is."

Sam scoffs, shaking his head. "No."

"She's all alone right now, if you didn't already know that. Might do some good to have a visitor, can't be that hard to convince Ross to let me see her."

The thing was Sam already knew you were somewhere in this prison. All alone. He could still see the panic in your eyes when they separated you and Wanda from the rest of them. He tried to hold onto the foolish hope that maybe they decided to have an iota of humanity and not separate the two of you.

He also knew that it wouldn't really matter. They could've thrown you in the cell right beside him, but still there was nothing anyone could have said, could have done to prepare you for the feeling of being locked up all over again.

Even worse, because the guards paid them no mind, he had no way to find out anything about your whereabouts, if you were okay or not, he knew nothing.

Sam tried a diplomatic approach at first, simply asking the guard if you were alright, how you were holding up.

Then, Clint tried demands. Threatening to kill the guards the second they got out of here unless they told them how you and Wanda were doing.

Scott tried to appease, to joke and appeal to their sense of humanity.

None of it worked.

A snort of disbelief leaves Sam's mouth. "You're gonna bargain with my friend's life? That's a new low for you, Tony."

Tony grits his teeth, sneering, "She was my friend too." 

"Was, operative word."

"Did she say that or do you speak for her now, Sam?"

"No, you do a good enough job of that on your own," Sam counters, though he has more than half a mind to tell Tony where Steve is just to find out if you were okay.

"15 seconds, Sam. Choose."

Sam just can't stop picturing it. You in a cell, all alone. God knows they weren't kind to you before, now there was nothing stopping General Ross from laying all the pressure he possibly could to force you back into line. He almost can't believe the words as they leave his mouth, "You go, you go alone and as a friend."

"Done," Tony agrees.

-

Escorted by three guards, Tony slowly approaches your cell. The glass makes it feel more like a zoo than a maximum security prison. But, he figures, that's what you are to them. Nothing more than a pawn. Tony does his best to ignore the guards intensifying glare as he approaches the cell.

He sees your face dejectedly slumped against the cell wall, balled up in the corner closest to him. He looks up at you in horror. Your face is grey, sunken in, like the life and soul had been sucked from you. "Pinkie?"

It's only when he calls for you that you even noticed your visitor. Recognition lights up your face. You look up at him with the best smile you can muster, "Hey, Tony."

His heart breaks a little bit, your smile is lifeless and lacks any real conviction, he knows you're only doing it so he doesn't feel like an even bigger asshole. "How are you holding up?"

"I've been better," you slur, finally managing to hold your head up off the wall. "How... how are you?"

It's not just your marred, garbled speech that alarms him, but he notices an IV running out of your straight-jacket. You can't reach the IV cart from where you're chained up in the corner of your cell, but he can see the IV bag filled with a yellow-ish liquid that continuously drips down into the tube leading up into your arm.

"Pinkie?" Tony calls again, this time slightly louder. "What is that?"

You tiredly exhale. You blankly stare at him for a moment like you don't understand what he's asking. It takes several long moments for the words to process, "My fault. I freaked when they put me in here...Sedating me helped."

A few things pop into his head immediately.

First,  between the way they were keeping you and Wanda, he feels completely and absolutely sick to his stomach. They treated you both like weapons and nothing more. It disgusts him. 

Second, he knows how claustrophobic you are. He can only imagine the panic that must have coursed through your veins when they threw you in here all alone. He imagines all the control you once had gone in a split second.

Third, he knows it can't be healthy to keep an adult so heavily sedated for this long. This is not good for you. Not in the slightest. 

"That explains why you're the only one speaking to me," he remarks.

"You're my friend, Tony." Your breathing is so slow that it freaks him out. "Know you're just..."

"Just?" he prompts, hoping you'll remind him what all of this is for, hoping you'll remind him what was worth turning his back on all his friends. 

"You're a good person, Tony, always been a good friend..."

"A good friend that gets his friends locked up," he sarcastically murmurs, more to himself than to you. "I'm not a good friend, Pinkie. And I'm so sorry-"

He looks back up at you to find your eyes slid shut, breathing shallow.

"Time's up, Stark," General Ross barks. "Consider us even, and consider this your last courtesy."

Tony never did find out if you heard his apology.

-

"What if she doesn't wake up, Steve? They kept her sedated the entire time we were there," Sam worriedly rambles, the feeling of carrying your limp body in his arms as Steve lead you to freedom still fresh in his mind. "Her head, it was bleeding so much, so, so much."

"Head wounds bleed a lot, Sam," Steve assures him. "She's tough, she's a fighter."

"You weren't there, Steve," Sam counters, a bit more bite in his voice than he intends. "You didn't see it."

Steve rests a hand on Sam's shoulder, offering a comforting squeeze, "I'm sorry, Sam. Truly."

Sam squeezes his eyes shut, reminding himself that if you wouldn't blame Steve, he certainly didn't have any right to. "Don't apologize, it's not your fault - it's just-"

"You're worried," Steve finishes.

"She's just lying there, Steve. It's been hours."

There was nothing, barely a twitch of your fingers even though you'd been lying there for hours. He made Wanda recount exactly what had happened before they separated the two of you already several times.

According to Wanda, after they separated the two of you from the group, they didn't want to risk keeping the two of you together either.

You'd held it together as they forced you into a straitjacket. Even as they chained your hands and feet together. They'd put that large black, electrical collar around your neck with minimal resistance from you.

After that, you and Wanda were separated.

Your breaking point came when they lead you to your cell. You panicked, spiraled so quickly that their solution was to jab a sedative in your neck.

She knew things had gone wrong when she heard your screams echo and reverberate down the hall. You, at the very end, her at the complete opposite end. And still, the screams sent chills down her spine.

But worse than any of that, her blood went cold when it all went silent, when there were no screams, no labored breaths. Just a boon chilling silence.

A few hours later, the sedative wore off, but the panic did not. The guards were genuinely worried about what you might be able to do if you lost control, so constant sedating was their failsafe.

"She'll be okay, Sam."

It's quiet after that. No one speak, only the low hum of an engine rumbling fills the silence. Sam remains by your side, fussing over you as the jet takes them to God knows where.

There is no warning as you snap back into consciousness. You sharply gasp, sitting up in one quick, fluid motion. The jet rattles, violently swaying as your chest heaves and your eyes try to figure out where you are. 

"Whoa!" Sam exclaims.

"Where are- What- What is going-"

"Easy, easy, just take a breath, we're okay. We're alright."

"We - we were on the Raft. I was-" you hyperventilate.

"You're safe, we're all out now," Sam consoles you. "We're safe."

You look around to the other solemn faces aboard the jet. Sam, Clint, Wanda, Scott, you're all out. "How?"

"Well..." Sam starts.

"I guess that would be me," a familiar voice pipes in from behind you.

Your head whips around to see Steve standing at the helm of the jet. "Steve?"

"Hey, Sunshine," he warmly greets.

The Twin Flame Chapter List The Grumpy x Sunshine Universe Bucky Barnes Masterlist

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[onyour-right]

I'm gonna have to rewatch this episode a few times cos 'um, excuse me what the actual fuck????

Cate, Catey, Catherine. We're on a break right now. Like, I just can't with her right. I was with her freeing the kids from the woods & telling the security guy to eat his hand, and her point about Marie (and supes) being a product was true; but the whole 'supremacist' speech and then whatever the fuck she was gonna do to Jordan?? Yeaaaa, I'm feeling some kinda way towards her and it's not good, lol.

Although it could be argued that the real fault lies with the adults who were imprisoning, torturing and running experiments on college students, so...

Also the fact that Cate and Sam were the ones who started the whole massacre and yet they're somehow the new guardians of Godolkin ??? Ty-pi-cal. And the fact that the poc were blamed and imprisoned when they were the ones tryna stop the rampage??? One simply has to laugh because otherwise...

Andre's scenes with his father got me. I'm very interested in where they'll take his storyline; the fact that the more he uses his powers the more he's damaging/killing himself. I wish they would have shown more scenes of him struggling after using his powers though, which would explain why he wasn't as useful as others this season.

Emma and Sam. Sam had a bit too much bass in his throat when he was talking to Emma which I didn't like at all. He knows damn well she's been looking out for him when she didnt have to at all. It's giving ill fated lovers - not that one of them necessarily has to die just that I don't think they'll end up together in the long run.

Marie and Jordan. I'm a ride or die for these two; their scenes together were few but impactful. Jordan not stopping Cate/Sam because wifey shook her head?? Love to see it. Marie giving people heart-attacks and blasting off Cate's arm to protect Jordan??? Fucking delightful. Jordan sitting on Marie's hospital bed and waiting for her to wake up? They're married your honour!!! Also can we talk about Jordan dillydallying while walking over to Marie??? It reminded me so much of Rickon in GoT running in a straight line (but at least he fucking ran 🙄) like Jordan????? At least jog a little no?????? Although the way they looked at each other in that scene was fucking cute though. ALSO, Marie did some Katara level blood-bending y'all, I can't wait for her to grow even more into her powers...

I'm not a 'The Boys' watcher so I don't know who that guy at the end was. Is he a good guy, a bad guy??? Either way he feels like someone very important.

Homelander laser beaming Marie and calling her an animal? He needs to die already, he needs to be tortured nice and slow and then die.

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

7th Day of Christmas

A Christmas Market

Summary/Prompt - Visiting a Christmas Market/Fair

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader

Christmas Masterlist | Masterlist

Having finished cleaning up from the hunt of the day a few hours ago, you, Sam and Dean have just been lazing around the dingy motel room. You’d all had a much-needed nap, but now you’re bored.

You sigh as you roll over and place your head on your boyfriend’s strong chest. He looks at you quizzically as he wraps his arm around you and traces patterns on your back. After a while, you sigh again.

“Alright, what’s up, Sweetheart?”

“I’m bored…”

“Cuddling with me not enough for you?”

“It’s great, you know I love cuddling with you, but we’ve been in bed for hours. I wanna go out.”

“We can go to a bar?”

“We always go to bars,” you sigh. 

“Fine, then tell me what you want.”

“I wanna go on a date. A proper date, not one where every girl in the place is drunk looking at you like they wanna get in your pants.”

“Y/N, you know I don’t look at anyone else now. You’re all I need.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the point. They’re still looking and look at me like I don’t deserve you, and …”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. If anything it’s me that doesn’t deserve you. You’re perfect.”

“Thanks, Dean. I love you.”

“I love you too, Sweetheart. How about you go for a shower and get dressed in something nice and I’ll figure something out for us to do.”

Your face lights up as you sit up to look him in the eyes. “Really?” 

He leans down and kisses your lips. “Yes, really. Now hurry up before I change my mind.” He slaps your ass as you turn to climb off the bed and gather your stuff. 

Sam rolls his eyes at the two of you from the opposite bed but he also has a small smile on his face. He loves seeing his big brother so happy and in love. He’s been through so much raising him and trying to be the perfect son and protective big brother, he deserves every happiness he can get. And as much as it makes Sam feel lonely and miss Jess sometimes, he’s glad that he’s got a front-row seat. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

When you emerge from the bathroom in a fresh pair of skinny jeans, and a nice T-shirt with a subtle layer of makeup — just some light powder, mascara and lip gloss — that you’d snuck in hopefully and your hair left in a neat braid on your shoulder Dean turns around from his place at the table and wolf whistles. Coming from anyone else you would cringe, but you know it’s Dean’s way of showing his appreciation so you just smile. You grab your boots from beside the bed and join him at the small table while you put them on. 

“You look beautiful,” he says while checking you out.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Winchester.”

Once you finish tying up your laces he stands up and offers you his hand. “Ready?”

You nod as you take his hand and stand up. You wave to Sam as you head towards the door.

“Have a good night you too. Be safe,” he says.

“You should go out, see if you can’t get lucky,” Dean says.”

“Get outta here, Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

You shake your head at the brothers, but you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. Despite all their teasing, they love each other more than anything. You wish you were that close with your sibling. But as a frown starts to invade your features you brush away the thought and focus on the present. You squeeze Dean’s hand as he leads you outside to his precious Impala and opens and closes the door for you. You don’t often get the chance to go on real dates with the life you lead, so whenever you do he becomes the proper gentleman. While it’s nice to enjoy gentle-Dean for a few hours, it’s the rough, damaged hunter that you first fell in love with. 

As he starts the engine and backs out of the parking lot you look at him and ask, “So where are we going?”

He places his hand on your thigh and squeezes it. “It’s a surprise. But I’m sure you’ll like it.” He turns up the music, effectively cutting off any more questions of what he has planned. 

After what feels like an eternity but was really only 20 minutes he pulls a park in a busy parking lot in a field. In the distance, you can see sparkling fairy lights as well as large outdoor spotlights. Dean shuts off the engine and comes around to help you out — he would only ever dare do that on a date, during hunts you become a strong independent hunter and he wouldn’t dare treat you like a lady. You take his hand as he leads you towards an archway covered in fairy lights and leafy garlands. Hanging from the archway is a banner that reads: “Local Annual Christmas Market”.

Your face lights up. You rarely get to celebrate holidays with constant hunts, but you remember telling Dean ages ago on a quiet night after drinking that you love Christmas. It means so much to you that he remembered and would bring you here when you had barely even remembered what time of year it was. Since losing most of your family and becoming a hunter, celebrating things like Christmas just seems less important. Butl, with Dean by your side and you finally starting to love your life again it feels like the perfect time to let some of that holiday spirit back into your heart. 

He squeezes your hand and leads you through the archway down a well-worn dirt path. You stop at booths as you pass by. There are all sorts of stalls peddling wares like Christmas cards, toys, trinkets and jewellery. He notices you eyeballing a pretty, simple silver chain with a heart-shaped charm decorated with small gems so he buys it for you and helps you put it on before moving on to the next stall. You run the fingers of your free hand over the charm as you smile up at him. Despite his rough front, he’s a true romantic at heart. All he ever wants is to make you happy and spoil you. While he mightn’t have a lot to give financially he always puts a little aside after hustling pool to spend on nights like this. As you keep walking through the stalls you notice his eyes light up as you near a stall with boxes of old vinyls. His step speeds up a little as he pulls you towards it. You happily speed up and join him in searching through the boxes. By now you know the kind of music he likes so you know which ones to hold up and show him. While there are heaps he wants to buy he holds back wanting to keep some money for anything else you might like. He walks away with just three vinyls in a paper bag. As you continue your journey it starts to snow. That’s when you notice you forgot to grab your jacket. As he feels you shiver at the feeling of snowflakes littering and melting on your exposed arms he sheds his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders instead. 

“What about you?” You protest.

“Layers, Sweetheart. I’m fine. Besides, I’m a warrior, I don’t get sick.” 

“Nor do I,” you argue back. He raises an eyebrow at you. “That was one time! And we’d been hiking for hours in the rain!”

“I don’t care.” 

You finally come across a circular alcove off the path with food trucks and portable tables and chairs under umbrellas. You take a seat at a free table opposite each other.

“Also, I never get to treat you like this. I know you’re no princess and on a normal day I wouldn’t dare treat you like one. But there’s little I truly have to offer you except the shirt off my own back. So please, just let me do what I can.”

You reach across the table and squeeze his hands. “Alright, you big sap, I’ll keep the jacket.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you for bringing me here. I can’t believe you remembered.”

“I remember everything you say to me.” You smile at him. “You hungry? I know I am!”

“I could eat.”

“Good. I’ll be right back.” He gets up, kisses the top of your head and walks off to get a selection of street food to share from the trucks.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Inside Man: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.1k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: The gang is split into two. Sam and Cas continue to look for the cure for the Mark with the help of someone who will do anything to bring you back. You and Dean face off with Rowena but this time, you're going to show her that you're the most powerful witch there is, and damn her if she thinks she can beat you.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

You and Dean walk into a nearby bar since Sam took the Impala to Wichita. You fix your bra when you walk in and smooth down the ends of your hair. Fucking makes you thirsty. You turn around and walk backward toward the bar counter, your eyes on Dean.

"Can you get pregnant while being soulless?"

"God, I hope not."

"You should have pulled out."

You smirk and turn back toward the bar. The place is busy with people who are playing pool, throwing darts, eating good food, and enjoying each other's company. You order a double for yourself while Dean orders a plate of nachos. It's amusing how hard he's trying to stay away from alcohol as if he doesn't already have anger issues. You down the drink in one gulp when you hear the obnoxious boys over at the pool table shout in victory over their win.

"Boom! Money. Now. Loser!" one of them shouts. "Give me your cash. Now. Right now."

"What's up with the Abercrombie rejects?" Dean asks the bartender when he passes.

"College kids 'slumming it'. His name is Ty. He always comes in here and does this shit."

"Slumming? What are you talking about? This is a nice joint, huh? You got those custom urinal pucks."

"Come on, bitches. Who's next? twenty bucks a game. Twenty bucks," the same man announces to the entire bar.

You and Dean look at each other and you smirk.

"I'd love nothing more than to show those dicks who's really boss."

"You know, for once, I agree with you."

Dean messes his hair to look spiker than it is while you pull down your shirt slightly to make your breasts stand out more. The bartender shakes his head but doesn't do anything to stop you from going over there.

"Yo! We'll play," Dean says in his douchebag voice.

Ty looks at you up and down before looking at Dean.

"Seriously?"

"What, I've seen enough to know how to play. I'm real good at holding the stick thingy," you say as if you're a dumb bitch who doesn't know shit.

"Dude, he's blitzed," Ty's friend says.

"No, no, no, I'm good. Let me play," Dean says.

"He's fine. Grab a stick," Ty says.

Dean is the one who plays a few rounds with Ty and his friends, bad you might add. He wants them to let their guard down. You play the dumb bitch who cheers for her husband while Ty and his friends rack in the money you're so willing to give them. After Dean loses the game, he looks at you and you smirk knowing he is about to hand them their asses.

"Okay, alright. Again?" Dean says.

"Sure. Make it a hundred this time."

Dean nods and you reach into his back pocket for his wallet. He doesn't stop you when you place three one hundred dollar bills onto the side of the table.

"Make it three hundred." Both men look at each other with wide eyes. "What do you say?"

"Give me your cash," Ty says to his friend.

He puts the cash down on top of yours and Dean tsks as he shakes his head.

"I think you're a little short there. Why don't you toss in the watch?"

"My dad gave me this watch," Ty says.

"I'm sure it's a very touching story. Got a little tear in my eye," you say with a fake pout. "Come on. Are we gonna play or not?"

"Fine," Ty takes off his watch and adds it to the pile, "but don't come crying to me when you've lost all your drug money." Ty smirks and leans in a bit toward you. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll make your time worthwhile."

It takes everything in you not to slap him. You want to see his face when Dean beats them.

"You're gonna regret saying that my friend," Dean chuckles and picks up the triangle to rack the balls.

This time, Dean doesn't let them get a shot in. He immediately "sobers up" and sinks in every single striped ball until all that's left is every single solid and the eight ball. If Ty was in a cartoon, smoke would be coming out of his ears.

"That one," Dean indicates to a corner pocket before shooting the eight ball into it.

"You hustled me," Ty says angrily.

"Well, you're pretty quick for a guy who's all hair gel and body spray." Dean picks up all the cash and Ty's father's watch. "Thanks, fellas." He looks at you. "I'll be right back."

Ty is about to go over to Dean to hurt him but his friend holds him back from doing so.

"Forget it, dude. He's an ass."

"Yeah, but my ass," you smirk and trail a finger across Ty's collarbone. "Don't beat yourself up too much, Ty. Now I don't have to cry about losing my drug money." Ty glares down at you. "Awh, don't worry, sweetheart, you definitely made my time worthwhile."

You walk away from the duo and head back to the bar. You're about to order another double when the front doors open. You look to see a very small redhead walk in. Rowena. She is definitely up to no good. The last time you saw her, you didn't have any magic. Oh yes, this will be so much fun. You side off the bar stool and hide behind one of the big wooden pillars by the bar. She doesn't seem to notice you as she walks over to the two men you just hustled. She clears everyone out of the bar but Ty and his friend. Dean comes out of the bathroom but you stop him when you see Rowena whisper something to the two men.

"Witch is here. Should you take this or shall I?"

"You already know the answer to that," he whispers back.

"I won't go easy."

"No one is saying you should."

Once Rowena is done doing her thing on the two men, she sits down at the bar and grabs someone's leftover glass of wine. You two walk into the main room and she smirks at you.

"Dean. Y/N."

"Rowena. What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" You smirk. "I'm sorry. Did I say 'nice girl'? I meant 'evil skank'."

"You say that like it's an insult," she smiles, "but nice girls, they're pathetic. Here's to evil skanks."

Ty and his friend come out of the shadows with blood streaking out of their eyes. They look like the girl Rowena spelled when you first encountered her. No matter. They won't have a chance to hurt you. Dean steps away to let you handle witch business, and you turn to Rowena with an amused smile.

"Is this meant to scare me?"

"It should considering you don't have any magic."

You look at your hands and red magic pours from your palms.

"Wanna rethink that?"

Rowena sets the glass of wine on the bar counter and stands up in fear. Ty runs at Dean but you thrust your outstretched hand at him without looking away from Rowena. Ty stops in his tracks and looks confused as to why he can't move. His friend charges at you but you thrust your other hand at him, causing him to stop in his tracks. Your magic shoots at them and encases their bodies. You pull your magic back, pulling the spell from their bodies. You move your hands toward Rowena, use the spell along with your magic, and blast her back. She topples over a table and some chairs, falling on her ass on the floor.

"Come here, boys," you say. Ty and his friend are compelled to listen to you. You stand in between them and place your hands on both of their shoulders. Your eyes shine red as do theirs so you know they're under your command. "Listen here, pets, she's your target now. Go fetch."

Both men run at Rowena quickly but she has tricks up her sleeves that prevent them from hurting her. She chants something in Latin and blasts them back into the bar counter. Both men hit their heads so hard that it severs your connection to them, and they pass out immediately. Dean takes another step back, fearful of what might happen between two powerful witches. Rowena takes off her coat to reveal symbols she has painted red on her skin. She rolls up her sleeves to reveal more symbols.

"You're no match for me," you laugh.

"We'll see about that."

She yells something in Irish this time and the symbols on her body start to glow purple. Purple magic shoots out of her body and into yours but it doesn't hurt. No, it sends you on a high like never before. You gasp and tilt your head abc as you absorb her power. When she's done, she looks confused as to why you're either not dead or on the floor crying.

"Not possible," she whispers.

"That," you moan. "I want more of that."

You blast her with her magic but instead of hurting her, you pull your magic back like what you did with Ty and his friend. Rowena's magic starts being pulled from her body and she gasps in pain. She can't stop it even if she wants to. You're too powerful for anyone to stop. She doubles over in pain the more you stay high. She chants something in Latin which forms a protective bubble around her, severing the connection. You stumble back into another wooden pillar and look at Dean with hooded eyes.

"Better do something now."

He marches over to her and pins her to the bar counter with a knife to her throat. She knows if she tries anything, he will kill her. The high you're on is already fading but the Mark on your collarbone burns with intensity. It's satisfied... for now.

"If you try anything, I will unleash all of Y/N onto you." Rowena looks at you and you wave with a smirk. "Do you understand me?"

"Fine. You win this one," she glares.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Saving my son."

"Your son?"

"Crowley," she rolls her eyes.

"You've got to be kidding me," you laugh.

"My son is a king, a God, or he would be if you didn't snap your fingers, and he comes running like a wee lapdog."

"Lady, your son is a coward at best," you roll your eyes.

"You two are a good influence on him. That's why you two need to die."

"How's that working out for you? You're no match for Y/N," Dean whispers lowly.

"Oh, I'll try again," she smirks.

"What, you think I'm just gonna let you walk out of here now?"

"I think you two are heroes." She looks at you. "You could have killed those men, but you didn't because they're innocent. Because you're the good girl and you want them to live."

"Really? That's what you think?" you smirk. Before Dean can stop you, you raise your hand and twist your wrist, causing both men's necks to snap. Rowena's eyes widen at their dead bodies. "They mean nothing to me, Rowena. You mean nothing to me." You walk closer to her and Dean and shove Dean to the side. You grip her neck and squeeze tightly, and she claws at your hand fearfully. "If you don't want to leave here in a body bag, I suggest you stay the hell away from me. I have no problem ending your sad and pathetic little life." You drop your words to a whisper and lean in closer. "You are nothing compared to me. Understand?"

You let go of her neck and she coughs violently. She does the smart thing and leaves while she still can. You look at Dean to see him looking at the two men you just killed. You roll your eyes and walk past him to get to the bar.

"Save me the waterworks, Dean. They were collateral damage."

Dean doesn't say a word as he picks up one of the men. He needs to get rid of them before the public comes back. When Dean comes back from burying two bodies, you're behind the bar fixing him a drink. You slide it on the counter and he takes it without a single word to you. He takes a sip and looks at you knowing that Mam snitched to the King. You look behind him to see Crowley standing there with an angry look on his face.

"Been waiting on you."

Dean turns to face Crowley.

"Squirrel. Witch."

"Bitch," you say. "Where's Mommy Dearest?"

"Would it make a difference?"

"Not really," you shrug. "So, are you two going to do this or are you just going to stare at each other like star-crossed lovers?"

Crowley wants to kill you and Dean for what you did to Rowena but after hearing what you had to say, that all changed. Turns out when Rowena went back to Hell to snitch, she banged herself up pretty good so it looks like you beat her ass. She wanted Crowley to kill you and Dean because she failed herself. By the end of this, you're behind the bar making drinks while Crowley and Dean sit on the other side drinking what you serve them.

"She wishes I did more to her," you laugh. "All I did was steal a little magic."

"So, she's a liar."

"What did you expect? She's the mother of a demon. She's not exactly sprouting white wings and a halo."

Crowley looks over and sees the Mark peeking out from your shirt.

"Mother says that Mark is just a curse and can be removed. Of course, she doesn't know how."

You slam the glass in your hand so hard onto the bar counter that it shatters. Blood trickles down your hand but you ignore it. Both men jump from shock and stare at you with wide eyes, Dean more so than Crowley.

"If you so much as search for a cure, I'm going to punish him," you point to Dean while looking at Crowley, "and he knows exactly what I'll do."

Dean and Crowley look at each other, and there is fear in Dean's eyes.

"Don't look for it."

Crowley takes a sip of his alcohol and decides to change the subject before someone dies.

"Mother says I've gone soft."

Dean relaxes knowing he's on safe ground now.

"You have. Yeah, maybe it's all the human blood that Sammy pumped into you, but the old Crowley would have come in here with hellhounds and demons, and he would have blown the roof off the joint. Now? You didn't want to fight. You wanted to talk. Maybe I've changed, too. Here I am playing Dr. Phil to the King of Hell. Never saw that coming," Dean scoffs.

"Maybe we're getting old."

"Never saw that coming, either. What is it, huh? Why are you letting Mommy Dearest tie you into knots?"

"Because we're family. Blood."

"That's not the same thing. A wise man once told me, 'Family don't end in blood.'," you chuckle at the memory of your father, "but doesn't start there, either. Family cares about you, not what you can do for them. Family's there through the good and bad. They got your back," Dean looks at you, "even when it hurts. That's family. Does that sound like your mother?"

"Take it from Dean to talk about family," you say. "He's sticking with me even after all I've done to try and prove him otherwise."

"I'm not giving up on you no matter what you say or do."

"You see?" You smirk. "Blind loyalty. Would your mother do that for you?"

Crowley leaves the bar soon after, and you and Dean leave the bar after him. It's time to go home anyway. You don't want to stay in your room for the rest of the night so you drop Dean off at home and take the car to be anywhere but here. Dean doesn't mind since Sam is back. He wants to talk to him without the fear of you overhearing them.

"What happened? Where's Cas?"

"Where's Y/N?"

"Out. I don't know when she'll be back so talk."

"Metatron knows more than what he was letting on. He has to know about the cure. Cas and I broke him out of Heaven."

"Broke him out? How?"

"Bobby. We needed someone on the inside and he's just as good as any to do it."

Dean nods in agreement. He wishes he could have been there to talk to Bobby but in a way, he's glad he wasn't.

"He's not going to talk," Dean sighs.

"He will now. He's human. Cas stole his Grace."

"Wow, a human Metatron. I would have loved to see that. Don't tell Y/N that or she will kill him."

"I know. We were going to kill him but he knows where Cas' grace is. He said he'd take him to it. What about you? What did you two do?"

"Went to a bar. Played some pool. Got ambushed by Crowley's mother. Rowena."

"Are you kidding me?" Sam gasps.

"I wish. Y/N killed two innocent people and almost killed Rowena. Crowley came, we talked, and now we're all best friends," Dean says sarcastically. "To be honest, I don't know if there is anything left of her to save."

"We're not giving up, Dean. We'll find this cure. You'll get her back." Dean nods but doesn't say anything about it. "I have something for you. I already read ours." Sam takes out the two envelopes from his jacket pocket One sealed. One opened. "Bobby wrote one for us and one for Y/N."

Dean takes the letters and stares at your name written in Bobby's scrawly handwriting.

"Don't give this to her."

"I know. Cas told me not to."

"No, I mean it, Sam. She'll burn it."

"I know," Sam says softly. "Put it away until she's ready to read it. I'm going to take a shower and go to bed."

Sam leaves Dean alone in the war room. He opens his letter with shaky hands and begins reading it.

Sam and Dean, So... this is weird, huh? Look, I just wanted to say that I know what you two are trying to do for each other. Cas told me everything. I'm not asking you to stop because it breaks my heart to know my daughter is a shell of who she used to be. I know about my grandbabies and I want you two to do whatever it takes to protect them. My daughter loves them with all her heart and I don't want to see them in Heaven a moment before they're supposed to be here. I'm not there to tell you what to do or to guide you, but I know you two will make the right choice. Sam, you're a good man. One of the best. I'm damn proud of you, son. I was content up here but getting the call from you has made me the happiest I've been in forever, no matter what it costs. Dean, I can't imagine what you're going through right now. I'm damn proud of you, too. I wish I could have heard your voice but I know you've got your hands full at the moment. When you feel like giving up, just remember that it won't last forever. You'll get Y/N back and your children. Anyway, I can't wait to hear what you three have done in your life when you finally do get to Heaven. Make it a long one. Stay safe, keep fighting, and kick it in the ass. Bobby

Dean lets the letter flutter to the table as tears stream down his face.

x

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[ichorai]

stitched ; sam wilson.

pairing ; sam wilson x super soldier!reader (gender neutral pronouns)

synopsis ; “I just worry about you—I know you can handle yourself, seeing as you’re all enhanced and whatnot, but… well, super soldiers can still bleed out, too.”

words ; 1.1k

themes ; fluff, very mild angst

warnings / includes ; a bit suggestive by the end, mild cursing, blood/injury/stitches, reader is nearly as old as bucky lol, bucky makes an appearance, sam is just a big old worrywart :(

main masterlist.

“Ow—Sam, that fuckin’ hurts—ow!”

Your boyfriend tore his eyes away from the deep gash in your forearm arm that he was stitching up to give you a mildly stern look. “It won’t hurt if you stop squirming around. In fact, this never would’ve happened if you hadn’t gone on that mission, like Steve warned you not to. You’ve got too much history with these folks—it’s dangerous for both you and everyone else on the team. Sit still for a sec and let me do my job, okay?”

Huffing, you slumped back into the sofa, using your free hand to frustratedly pull at your face, still bloody and caked with grime from the mission. You grimaced. A steaming hot shower sounded more than appealing right about now—along with a nice, long nap right after. Sam went back to sewing you up, grip a little tighter than necessary on your wrist.

“Why are you being so dramatic?” you asked him, shifting so that your free hand would rest against his bicep, patting him gently. “It was just a shard of glass—”

He didn’t spare you a glance, snorting as he shook his head. “A shard of glass from when a super soldier threw you through a skyscraper’s window, sure. You could’ve died.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t—I’m a super soldier too, Sam. And Bucky caught me, remember?” you gently replied. Carefully, you moved your hand upwards to cradle his face, thumb smoothing over his stubbled jaw. Sam paused in his suturing to look at you, his dark eyes wavering for a moment upon seeing your soft smile. “I’m fine, see? This’ll be completely healed over in two days’ time, just watch.”

The man in front of you squared his jaw and went on to finish the last of the stitches, neatly tying it off and placing the needle and thread away to the side. 

“It could’ve been a lot worse,” Sam said, slightly less stiff. His hand came up to lay over yours on his face, pulling your fingers forward to plant a soft kiss against your knuckles, before holding them close to his chest. “I just worry about you—I know you can handle yourself, seeing as you’re all enhanced and whatnot, but… well, super soldiers can still bleed out, too.” 

Chest tightening, you leaned closer to him, pressing a chaste kiss right beside his nose, and rested your forehead over his, noses bumping against one another. He smelled of earthy smoke and that citrus bodywash of yours he always stole, and something else just entirely him. You inhaled deeply, ignoring the burning pain within the side of your ribcage as you did so. “I know,” you whispered. After a brief moment of silence, you told him, “Thank you—for the stitches and the mother henning. Though, I could do with a little bit less of the latter.”

Wary of your freshly-sown injury, he tugged you closer, winding his arms around you in a sweet embrace. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbled into your hair, littering feathery kisses along your temple. Even quieter, he tacked on, “I love you. Even though you’re, like, a million years old.”

“I’m only a hundred and five,” you gasped, abruptly pulling away to smack at his chest. “That’s younger than Bucky!” 

“Oh, yeah, because Bucky is so young and spritely,” your boyfriend scoffed in response. 

“Right, and we’re the one who chose to be cryogenically put to sleep and trained to be a killing machine throughout the decades,” you sarcastically bit out, though your tone lacked any real bite to it. 

Suddenly, said super soldier strode through the open doorway, crossing his arms as a playful, light smile curled at the corner of his lips. “My ears are burning,” he said, sending you a knowing look as you sheepishly pulled away from Sam. “You guys talkin’ about me?”

“Just about which nursing home we should throw you into,” you snarked, which earned you a guffaw of laughter and a proud high-five from Sam. 

Rolling his eyes, Bucky made his way over, throwing himself onto the couch beside you. “Tell me, what ever happened to respect your elders?” He turned his attention to your wound, features visibly softening. “You okay? Took quite a hit out there.”

“Just fine, Buck,” you reassured him, nudging him with a grateful grin. “I would be a gross sludge of mushy roadkill if it wasn’t for you.”

Sam made a disgruntled noise at your choice of words, but the two of you ignored him.

Your old friend smiled at you, then grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. “You guys down to watch a movie or somethin’? Steve told me that Star Wars was pretty good. Ever watched that, Y/N?”

“Nope,” you quipped, blanching at the memory of your growing list of movies to catch up on. “Sorry, Bucky, I’m completely joed. I gotta hit the showers—get all this crusty blood off of me. I’m down to watch it with you tomorrow, though.” 

Nodding in understanding, Bucky shooed you away when you planted a sloppy kiss to his cheek and cuffed him in the shoulder, sauntering away with a laugh. He wiped your kiss away with the back of his hand, before settling further into the couch and flicking through the channels.

“Alright, man,” said Sam after a moment, dusting his pants off and patting Bucky’s knee. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a rendezvous with a certain super soldier in the shower.”

Absent-mindedly, Bucky waved him away as well, mumbling a goodbye under his breath.

It was only as Sam was heading over to the bathroom, his shirt already in the process of being tugged off, did Bucky register what he was saying.

“Ew! Did you really have to tell me that? You guys are gross!” groaned Bucky, pulling a face at the thought. The rest of his complaints fell beneath his breathy grumbles, too quiet for Sam to pick up on. 

Sam could only snort in amusement at that, before swinging the bathroom door open to see you brushing your teeth by the sink, bits of minty foam gathered by the corners of your lips. He enthusiastically greeted you with an affectionate kiss to your cheek, accompanied by a pair of hands suggestively wandering down to your hips. 

[biggirllifestyle]

The Red Wedding.

Summary: Weddings are times for Celebrations, but this wedding takes the cake.

Pairings: Mafia!Steve Rogers x OFC

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: Violence lots of violence, and Peggy Carter.

A/N: It's been a while and I'm super excited to post this. This is based on a scene from a movie I watched today that just made my jaw drop super different but has the same premise.

When one is young there is always that time when you picture the perfect wedding, the perfection in every detail from the large venue with the gorgeous view to the smallest ribbon that would be used. Everything was methodical. Yet here you stood blood splattering your beautiful pearl white dress, hair in disarray, mascara smudged and running, and a loaded gun in your hand.

  Guests were frantically running around trying to find some sense of what the hell had just happened. From across the room, you watched your husband face you taking a step forward and then another until he was only a few feet away, you raised the gun pointing it at him, but not once did he flinch at your action.

“Me chingastes Steve, por ultima ves me chingastes hijo de puta.”

Taking a deep breath, you pulled the trigger.

-         3 Hours Earlier       -

The ceremony had been beautiful, Steve had gone all out on expenses never once asking anything from your parents. This had brought much joy to your father as he acted like the cat that ate the canary, every time he showed a hint of smugness you couldn’t help but roll your eyes sharing some meaningful glances with Steve.

In a sense yes, your father was earning a lot with your marriage to Steve, by having his business be administered by the biggest mafia boss in Brooklyn and if his price was to let him have his only child that was a sacrifice, he was willing to make. Well, not much of a sacrifice since you and Steve had been together for quite some time joined to the hip since he was a sickly kid until he rose in ranks and his abrupt puberty where he grew three times his size and could plummet anybody who looked at you funny into the ground.

With how long you both had been together it was almost inevitable for your engagement to be announced, everybody knew and everybody important was invited. With Steve and you deciding to keep the ceremony private (much to the chagrin of your father), with your parents, Bucky Steve’s best friend and righthand man, and Sam Steve’s other best friend present everything went smoothly just like you had always pictured.

The ride over to the venue was filled with heated kisses and touches that made you lose your breath; you could feel his smug smile as he kissed your neck. Everything was going as planned your entrance was greeted with big cheers and applauses, at some point you and Steve were separated he was being taken by Sam and Bucky to join the other boys while you took the liberty of greeting your other guest trying to make time before the real festivities began.

Half an hour later, after removing yourself from a painful conversation with your Tia where she went on and on about her newly installed backyard grill, you were able to meet with Steve again who looked a little disheveled but otherwise unharmed. He was grinning a stupid smile marking his face as he pulled you close, giving you small kisses and finally bringing you into a big hug, burying his nose into your hair.

“You don’t know how happy you’ve made me by tying yourself to me indefinitely.”

You huffed out a laugh hitting his chest at his remark, “Menso, I married you because I love you don’t be calling our marriage me tying myself to you.”

You gave him a small smirk, “I mean I can still get rid of you at any time.”

Steve let out a deep growl pulling you flush against him; you give a small yelp at his roughness trying to look around and see if anybody noticed, noting that most people were avoiding looking or walking toward your area. Steve jostled you again forcing your attention back to him, you knew Steve like the back of your hand and at that moment, you knew that if it would have just been the two of you Steve wouldn’t have hesitated to throw you over this table and fuck you into oblivion.

“Baby you really do know how to get me going, I can’t wait until we get home so I can fuck you into every surface that I can get you on.”

Bucky, who was the only person who was brave enough to come near you cleared his throat, he motioned behind him where several people had congregated to talk. Steve’s face turned stormy pulling away from you fixing himself to a proper state, he gave Bucky a nod who turned back towards the group, Steve looked pissed, and this worried you because you knew Steve and he would never let his emotions show especially in such an open venue where most of his competitors were present.

Whatever this was it was serious.

You grabbed his hand giving him a brief squeeze to let him know that it was okay, he gave a soft huff giving you a brief kiss before heading over to Bucky and the other men. You didn’t want anybody to see you worried, raising a glass to the DJ a soft cumbia started that got many people to join the dance floor keeping many busy and others distracted.

You watched Steve and the men as they talked in hurried hushed tones, you could see the tension building as one of the men who you knew was Tony who was from the Manhattan district showed something to Steve that made him madder. The music drowned out most people and they left you alone, just as you were beginning to relax you hear the tell-tale sign of your ringtone you knew you should have kept it silent, but you were waiting on a particularly important phone call from your firm for a recent case.

You grabbed your phone ‘UNKOWN NUMBER’ displayed across the screen, it confused you, so you let it ring not bothering to pick it up. The ringing stopped but soon after it started again, you knew you couldn’t ignore it any longer if they were going to keep insisting.

“Hello?”

“Finally, I get ahold of you!” A deep feminine voice answered through the line, “Congratulations on the wedding! You’re a lucky girl today.”

“Who is this? What do you want?” You looked around the room trying to see if you could spot anybody with a phone.

“Calm down kid, I just wanted to give you a little information on the man you just married,” The lady on the line laughed and you couldn’t help the annoyance that brought on you.

“Look lady I don’t know who the fuck you are but you’re getting on my fucking nerves.”

“Oh, sweetie I was just trying to make conversation, I just wanted you to know what your husband was doing or who he was doing just a few days a few days ago or specifically last Thursday.”

That stopped you cold, you knew exactly what she was talking about. Last week Steve had gone out early in the morning saying that he had an important meeting with a buyer, and he stayed out late almost coming home until early the next morning. You remembered since you had stayed up to wait for him and to finish working on some case files before you had to head out on your honeymoon.

“He worked me out all night until early morning, it was an amazing goodbye gift he gave me before he tied himself to you.”

At this point you were shacking both in anger and in sorrow at what could be the truth, you looked to where Steve was still preoccupied with his friends at that moment he looked up and caught your eye his face melted into something lovingly and you couldn’t help the choked sobbed that worked its way out your throat. You heard the lady on the line laugh at your sob and you knew that she was a sadistic bitch who was enjoying your pain.

“Quien chingados eres? You fucking bitch if you have the balls to call me on my wedding day and tell me all of this you should also have the balls to tell me your fucking name.”

She laughed again loving the fact that she was able to get you to this state, “You should ask him who Peggy Carter is and you’ll know in an instant that I’m not lying to you.”

The line went dead after and all you could focus on was the dial tone, you were fuming not just at this Peggy lady but at Steve for making you a fool. At this point you weren’t in control of yourself everything seemed so loud and too quiet as you made your way to Steve and the other men, pushing past them not caring who they were until Steve was the only thing you could see.

“Who the fuck is Peggy Carter?” Steve’s eyes widened at the name and all the other men in the group began to murmur amongst each other, but your focus was only on Steve who seemed to have lost all color.

“Baby how do you know that name?” His answer was enough to set you off as you punched his chest slapping the phone onto his chest, your only goal was to get answers from him and hurt him as much as you were hurting. Bucky tried to grab your arm, but Steve shook his head no and that just made you madder.

“Te la cogiste verdad hijo de puta? You fucked her a week before our fucking wedding, how could you?”

Steve was holding onto your arms trying to stop you from hitting him but also from hurting yourself, he pulled you forward until you were squished against his chest but that just felt like you were suffocating so you pushed him away.

“Answer me you fucking coward, did you fuck her?”

“No baby I would never do that to you, you know how much I love you.”

“Don’t lie to me Rogers or I swear to god I’ll fucking kill you.”

Just as Steve was about to answer a few gunshots ranged out across the room, Steve pushed you down until he was covering around you, and people began to run around as glass shattered and screams went around the room. Steve pushed you towards Bucky telling him to get you out of there as more shots were fired Bucky handed Steve a gun as he began to pull you towards the exit.

“Bucky let me go,” You screeched as you fought against him, he ignored you keeping himself close as he walked you towards the exit. From your position you couldn’t see much, just people running from every exit that they could find. Just as you were reaching the door you spotted a brown-haired woman walking towards where Steve was, seeming to ignore the chaos around and strolling towards your husband as if there was no care in the world. Her lips were painted a deep red matching her dress and something in you just knew.

This fucking bitch was Peggy Carter.

“Bucky you have to go to Steve, you have to tell him that Peggy is here.”

Bucky seemed to have come to the same conclusion as he watched Peggy making her way to where Steve was fighting some goon oblivious to her presence.

“I’ll be fine just go to Steve, give me a gun,” He whipped his head towards a conflicted look until he reached into his inner pocket and removed a gun for you.

“You better not make me regret this,” Were his last words until he was sprinting towards Steve dodging men as much as he could. You turned to the exit running towards the kitchen where you knew you could lose someone or find someplace to hide. Just as you reached the doors to outs you were yanked back by a strong force, slamming you onto the floor stealing your breath away.

You knew you only had seconds to react, you shot up a few rounds hoping something would hit. A grunt, and then a thump as the man fell over. There was blood and a lot of it, most of it had missed you but there was still a rogue spray that hit you. You got up shakily, you knew how to shoot a gun, but never had you killed someone like this.

Your insides felt loose and firm and you couldn’t help but throw up everything from that day until you were dry heaving. You must have taken too long because as soon as you steadied yourself somebody was already grabbing you. You tried to struggle against your grabber but stopped as you felt the barrel of the gun being pressed against your head.

“Don’t try anything sweetheart, now you and I are gonna take a little trip back into the reception” he started shoving you forward, “Can’t have you leaving your own party early now, can we?”

You grunted as he pushed you hard enough that your foot gave out a little, it wasn’t extreme, but it did cause you to start limping much to the annoyance of your captor. He pushed you towards the doors leading to the reception, Steve was bound to a chair Peggy was on his lap Bucky and Sam were surrounded by men keeping them from doing anything without getting killed. The moment the doors had slammed open everybody turned to you, Steve’s eyes seemed to widen as he looked at all the blood and your limping state, he began to fight against his restraints jostling Peggy out of his lap.

The gun being pressed to your temple stops him from doing anything else. Peggy huffs motioning for the man holding you to bring you forward. You didn’t have your gun anymore; Steve was incapacitated, and Bucky and Sam had every gun on them you knew that this looked like you had lost. The moment that you were close Peggy drew you into a hug, you recoiled trying to get away from her but a gun to your back stopped you.

“After our heart-to-heart through the phone, this is how you’re going to repay me?” Peggy pouted at you, and this made it clear she was crazy.

“Yeah, well I just saw it as some crazy bitch trying to ruin my perfect day, how would you see it?” That must have been the wrong thing as Peggy’s face became enraged, she swung her hand at you a sting running from your cheek where she struck you.

“Get the fuck away from her Peggy or I swear,” Steve yelled at her fighting to get himself off the chair, Peggy ignored him tooting in disagreement.

“Baby if you don’t stop trying to get out of that chair, I’ll start hurting your little bitch.” Steve seemed to be having a fight with himself trying to find a way to get out of this and get you to safety. Peggy walked towards Steve leaning down to whisper something in his ear that made him mad but made no move to fight.

“Now baby, how about you tell your wife about the wonderful time we had, how you told me how much you loved me and how the only reason why we couldn’t be together was that you were getting much more from the deal.”

Bucky, who was still on the ground, whipped his head towards you ready to say something but was stopped as the man behind him pressed the barrel into the back of his head stopping him.

“Just let her know baby, tell her what we did, and I promise you I’ll let her go.” Steve seemed to contemplate before dropping his head in defeat.

“It’s true, we were together last Thursday,” Steve made a face as if he was in pain, almost as if the words he was spitting out hurt, “I was having second thoughts about getting married, I didn’t know if you were the right person for me.”

Steve’s words hit you hard, all the pain and rage that was inside you was brewing and at this point, you were unsure if you were about to scream or throw up.

“Peggy she was there, and I took my chance to figure it out if you were what I wanted.” He lamely finished, his face twisted into a grimace but all you could see was Peggy’s stupid grin and that just made you angry. You slammed your heel into your captor and threw your head back until it collided with his face, and he released you with a yelp. Bucky and Sam seemed to have taken advantage of the distraction as they flew back against their own captors wrestling them into the ground. Steve slammed himself back smashing the chair into pieces to free himself. Your captor tackled you down, slamming your head into the floor obscenities flying at you before Steve practically ripped him off from you.

Peggy began to rush away but you took the chance from everybody’s distraction to go after her, you were unsteady, but she did not get far as you tackled her. She began to throw punches at you, one of them catching you in your cheek, the other splitting your lip, but you weren’t far off as you also landed your own blows.

“You fucking Perra, you ruined my wedding and I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Peggy reached around her trying to find a way to get you off her, her hands grazing the floor until she latched onto a shard of champagne glass from the earlier altercation. She lashed up cutting your arm and making you retreat as she tried to keep slashing at you. She rushed over trying to stab you screaming her head off at you as she did.

“He was mine; he was always mine and you fucking took him away you fucking bitch. He loves me not you.” She cried as she slashed your arms. You pushed her away as she stumbled back and fell just as she was going to get up, she was stopped by Bucky who had incapacitated everybody else.

Steve walked towards Bucky looking down at a struggling Peggy, “Take her somewhere else, we’ll deal with her later.”

You walked away, your leg was starting to hurt and the cuts from the glass were stinging, this wasn’t your fight anymore and you were done. People were rushing around, reinforcements from someone else, and at this point, you really didn’t care, you knew you would have to call your parents and check on them, you knew they had gotten out but still.

You reached down to collect a bottle of champagne that was still intact and an abandoned gun. You knew you still had one thing to deal with and you could finally head home and relax, but this would just have to be a priority. You turned back to the scene; your husband was still directing people trying to clear out as much as he could.

You watched your husband as he pointed at things around, he turned towards you, taking in your running mascara blood-covered dress, and messy hair, and all he felt was deep love at how strong you were in all this. He walked towards you trying to get as close as he could stopping short as he saw the gun in your hand, you raised it aiming at him but that didn’t scare him, the only thoughts that came into his mind were how beautiful you looked and how lucky he was to have you.

“Me chingastes Steve, por ultima ves me chingastes hijo de puta.”

Steve didn’t move and felt the bullet graze his arm, but he didn’t care as the rage melted off you, and concern was all he saw. You rushed forward discarding the gun and bottle, you grabbed at his arm trying to see the damage you caused but instead met a firm chest as Steve held you close.

“Chingate Steve, dejame ver, let me see your arm you fucking asshole.” You pushed away from him as you removed his suit to look at his arm, he began to caress your face you ignored him as you ripped away at his shirt.

“This doesn’t change anything you know, I’m fucking pissed at you asshole,” You looked up at Steve who only showed love in his eyes, “You’re lucky I don’t file for an annulment.”

Steve felt the breath being squeezed out of him, just the idea of you not being with him scared him.

“Baby, I promise you with all that I have and to my last breath that I was never with her, I’ve only ever loved you and I promise you that everything she said was a lie.” Steve was outright begging at this point trying to make you believe him, and you knew Steve you’ve always known Steve.

“Of course, I know, don’t be a pendejo about this I know you, Steve, I did doubt you, but I know that disrespecting me and us like that is not in you.”

You looked away seeing Bucky pick up the gun you had used on Steve as he pocketed away, he caught your eye and nodded at you and Steve as if to ask if you were okay. You knew he wasn’t asking about your injuries, so you nodded at him, he inclined his head and turned to Sam slapping him in the back which made the other man yelp and punches him back.

“Steve yo te amo, and I know you, I’ve always known what type of man you are,” You pushed up, your foot complained against it, but you brushed your lips against his which made him melt at your touch, “I love you.”

Steve let the tension out, kissing you passionately as if he were trying to engrave your memory into his brain.

“I love you too.”

[pressedink]

hi it's me back again (shadys back tell your friends (idek ignore me)) so i just read the new chapter and i think i might die. literally SOBBING

i knew they were probably gonna kiss but i was reallyyy hoping they wouldn't. i actually screamed and had to put my phone down when they did i don't think ill ever recover from this

ik i've said it before but i absolutely LOVE this fic so here r some things from that chapter that made me scream :)

"Barty is obsessed with it. He needs to book a tattoo appointment immediately." literally screaming barty would def be the type to get things like that, he'd have so many tattoos dedicated to evan that evan wouldnt evan know of all of them😭

"Because friends is what Evan wants" no it's not u oblivious idiot

"...that loving Evan Rosier is something he can control. But it isn’t. It never has been." i'm fucking screaming i love them sm😭

"Oh god, Barty's struck with a sudden deeply upsetting thought: he’s acting like James Potter. Barty physcically recoils" STOP THIS MADE ME LAUGH SO HARD😭

"Evan was the first person who made him feel like he was truly loved. How could he stop himself from falling in love with him?" stop i'm gonna cry😭

"Evan just kissed him. They kissed. They have less than 4 hours left, and then they can never see each other again." oh wow isnt that fun. i'm going to kms/hj

PLEASE TELL ME THERES A HAPPY ENDING I DONT THINK ILL SURVIVE IF THERE ISNT😭

there's like. so many other scenes i loved loved loved (and made me scream ofc) but i'd probably end of pasting almost the entire thing if i added literally everything😭

hello Eminem! thank you for gracing my tumblr inbox. had no idea you were a Marauders stan tbh but welcome!!

lmao HI WELCOME BACK TY FOR ANOTHER ASK THAT'S MAKING ME BLUSH AND SMILE AND GAH

it's the way i almost didn't have them kiss too. i was fully prepared to just let them hash it out without the tiny little added complication of you know, never being able to see each other again, but where's the fun in that?

you're so right about Barty and his tattoos, like every single one is about Evan whether he knows it or not and Barty will just make shit up to make them connect like 'oh this frog riding a motorcycle? Evan's eyes sometimes have a little bit of frog green in them' or 'yeah my Fruit Loops Toucan Sam tattoo? Evan's fruity and hates cereal'

Evan isn't really giving Barty a ton of clues to be so real, like yes he's being oblivious and literally has now stated he understands Evan doesn't ask for what he wants ever so why would he lie and pretend he wants Barty now? but that's the key point: Barty thinks Evan wants him, not loves him. he's in denial because yes Evan loves him as a friend but how could he ever love him more than that?

James Potter as both Barty and Evan's standard of 'yeah, i've done something wrong here' is SO real and i love that they both just silently use him in their heads without voicing it out loud to each other

i can't confirm or deny a happy ending (bc again i ask, whereee is the fun in that?) but i can say [redacted] >:)

you're a star, light of my life, my favorite tumblr human. thank you so much for taking the time to not only read but hop over to tumblr and rap in my inbox :,) i'm honored, and hope you have the best day!! take care my friend <3

[washa]

I listened to Vincent and Sam’s recent audio and here’s my favourite personal comments/thoughts! (We need Elliot and some blues clues shit right now man 😭)

“He’s tying up some loose ends.” I’M SORRY?? WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN NOW??

Also Sam sounds rather pissed and I’m just a tad scared.  

“Do we think those “loose ends” will still have a pulse by the time he’s done with them?” Probably not. Realistically not. 

Vincent sounds so disbelieving?? I MEAN I WOULD BE TOO???

“I’m not even exactly sure where he went.” Porter don’t you dare ghost treasure. PORTER DON’T YOU DARE GHOST TREASURE.

Again on, The Shaw pack needs a fucking break 🙌

I bet Vincent is FUMING or right now. Imagine you were mingling with someone who had a hand in something that legitimately killed a thousand people, and your lover. 

No bc i get it, Vincent must be like so fucking conflicted. I FUCKING KNEW WHEN VINCENT SAID HE WAS "GONNA FOCUS ON THE GOOD" IN THE PORTER AND VINCENT MEETING VIDEO SOMETHING WAS GONNA HAPPEN. 

I mean i wouldn’t call them “his lover” but go on. 

“His moral compass has never pointed true north.” Amen, Now on that note, I’d like to reinstate on how Treasure should run. 

“-And were gearin’ up for somethin’ else.” WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??

Yeah Vincent stay positive 💪 

CloseKnit = Hydra confirmed 

HUH WHAT FUCKING SCANDAL AND RAID??? Bro.. HUH

I imagine a lego tower with like “House of Bennet” stuck on it crumbling down in Lego Movie style.

“We’re about to get our hands a lot dirtier then.” If you can listen closely, you can hear Vincent’s eyes darkening, his character development and trauma tingling.

“No secondhand go-betweens, no twisted game of telephone.” I love the way he said that, Like yes drop them bars Princey ‼

URGH I LOVE THE WAY THE BOTH ASK EACH OTHER IF THEY’RE BOTH OK WITH IT UIEKJK

“They’ve shown incompetent they can be.” Sweetheart’s kicking the ground right now.

I have a question, Has nobody followed up on Elliot??? I know he reported it after the Inversion and how he got brushed off bc yk it was the INVERSION. BUT It’s been TWO FUCKING YEARS?? Realistically he’d be one of the best leads on CloseKnit, He has a basic understanding how powerful CloseKnit is and how they operate. Can we get a lil circle back to him please 😭 

“I’m not Porter, I won’t just do something because it’s what’s ordered of me, whether I agree with it or not. That’s not how I operate.” DAMN SAM DAMN

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

The next couple of lines are just things Sam said that I find really interesting…

“But that’s a dangerous precedent. We all know what growing power can do to a person with good intentions.” 

“-”Messy realities” of being in his House, Since we never wanted to be in it in the first place, and that choice was taken from us.” 

“But it’s also convenient that he kept all of this from the two people who were most likely to have a problem with what he’s doing.”

 “-To only trusted in people who voice any opposition to it, and well just do as ordered without question.”

“I need answers on those things.” 

“I appreciate you see me on that same level, deservin’ that same trust from him. But in a lot of ways, William’s old school.”

“I’m not his progeny. I haven’t been around as long as you or Alexis, He didn’t take me under his wing, like he did Porter. He’s always been kind to me, Set me up with a home and with work, and I'm grateful for that.” (I can’t tell if Sam said fringe or friend next, but If it is friend, then Porter and Sam feel the same way, which is an interesting take on how they both feel.)

“I believe that feels that he owes you an explanation, I don’t know if he’ll think that he owes me one.”

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

REAL VINCENT PREACH MAN, WILL NEEDS TO EXPLAIN EVERYTHING LIKE WHAT THE FUCK ‼

“Glorified Press Release” I want that framed on my wall.

Vincent has developed SO MUCH within these two years it’s crazy.

HUH DARLIN’??? WDYM DARLIN’????

Vincent wants like a guard dog or smth?? Or is he gonna use the guilt trip/ threaten type shit, Like,“Look who you put in danger, a member of the Shaw Pack! Tell me what’s gonna happen from now on or the Shaw Pack will cut ties with you 😇”

Hey on the bright side, Hendral Wyrdsmythe is coming BACKKKK 💕