#gotta draw the whole party together again soon

[squiggl3]

Painted some dnd characters because its been a while and I miss them ;; character on the right (Kody) belongs to @counter--fate!

#dnd oc #aarakocra #tiefling #my art #doodles #they are all going through so much #lolan #kody #gotta draw the whole party together again soon #these poor folks cant catch a break #when your life consists of daily interactions with the chained oblivion. death of the gods. and lost family while the world crumbles #its kind of hard to catch a well earned break #my ocs #dungeons and dorks

[sadomas0chist]

perfect strangers

MINORS DNI // 18+

part one; part two; part three

genre: nsfw

pairings: jean kirschtein x female reader

word count: 2.6k

tags/warnings: penetrative sex, dom jean, fingering, praising kink, slight body worship, dirty talk, sneaky.

synopsis: your recent discovery makes you certain that you won't be able to control yourself around him and neither will he, hence you decide that it was time to make an agreement that was rather spicy.

a.n: hey babies! so i finally decided to turn this into a short series since some of you were intrigued with the idea of having a continuation for the previous part i wrote. i hope you like it, enjoy <3

“How was I supposed to know?!” I yelled as soon as Jean exited our apartment. I had put on a random t-shirt to follow Connie to his room, trying to convince him that I had no idea that I fucked his best friend.

“Y/n he literally told you his name is Jean and he was attending my party. You’re acting as you’ve never seen him before!” he scolded taking off his shirt and throwing it across his room.

“Oh for fuck’s sake Connie. The last time I saw Jean I was 16 and he didn’t look like that. He’s so fucking different now how was I supposed to know. And to be fair, he was studying abroad for I don’t know how many years, how was I supposed to know that he metamorphosed like that.” I motioned my arm out, my other hand resting on my hip.

He groaned, rubbing his temples before he looked back at me. “Look,” he spoke softly. “I don’t want to fight with you over this okay? You’re right, I should’ve told you that he was coming back. He graduated a year ago and was considering coming back to his hometown, here. Let’s just forget it all happened okay? It’s a simple misunderstanding.” I nodded, resting my head on his chest as he embraced me into a tight hug.

“Now go take a shower you reek of sex.” he snickered earning a punch on his arm. He winced rubbing his flesh, a proud smile setting on my face.

***

The week went by smoothly. I told Sasha and Hitch what happened and they both had different reactions. Hitch was gushing over the sex and Sasha on the other hand confessed that she forgot to mention that Jean was coming back to stay here. It’s okay though. We all passed it and I was working my ass off to finally graduate.

Connie was spending his days with Jean, which granted me a lot of peace and tranquility. At least, that’s what I thought.

I hadn’t spoken to Jean ever since we hooked up, figured that Connie already explained the whole situation and moved on.

Three knocks on my door broke my focus, a loud frustrated sigh leaving my lips. “What Connie!”

“Actually,” a voice on the other side of the door caught me off guard. “It’s Kirschtein. Can I come in?” A knot formed in my throat.

“Sure.” he turned the knob, slowly coming in. “Connie knows I’m here by the way.” I nodded, adjusting my seat.

“What’s up?” the tension was awkward. The tension shouldn’t even be present in the first place. But how could I not get aroused when he was wearing a black tank top showing off the tattoos on his sleeves with a pair of sweats. He looked effortlessly attractive.

“- and like I said it will never happen again. Y/n?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, yeah. Never happen again. I’m very sorry but I need to finish this assignment.” He chuckled and nodded leaving me alone with my thoughts. Did I just make him talk to himself because I was too busy checking him out?

I shook my head, assuming that whatever he said wasn’t worth my time. Time went by rather quickly and the assignment was done earlier than I expected. It was already ten pm, and I had promised the girls I was going to meet up with them for some drinks.

I picked my outfit and applied some makeup. Simple and effective. We were going to spend the night at Sasha’s so I didn’t make much effort to look hot.

The place was empty when I left and I assumed that Connie was helping Jean to rent an apartment for himself.

Sasha’s place wasn’t very far from mine. As a matter of fact, it only took me ten minutes to get there. Once I got there, the girls were already ordering pizza and picking out some movies to watch.

“Hey whores.” I greeted them, earning cheers from Hitch and Sasha. “Oh my god, Mikasa I missed you!” I rushed to the dark-haired girl who was sitting on the couch and engulfed her into a tight hug. I haven’t seen Mikasa since I moved with Connie. We used to live together, but after she and Eren got together, he wouldn’t leave her alone. So I figured it would be best if I left and lived with my brother.

“I missed you too! I looked for you everywhere at that party where were you?” she asked taking a sip of her soda. Hitch began coughing dramatically as Sasha giggled next to her. “Oh quit it.” I teased rolling my eyes.

I ended up telling her everything, her face displaying a plethora of expressions. “I mean, Jean did change I can’t argue with that. But didn’t he recognize you?”

I shrugged. “I changed too. Puberty hit me like a truck.”

“Cheers to that.” Hitch raised her cup. We laughed and talked for hours. I missed going out with them like that. Fortunately, college will be over soon and I’ll have some time for myself.

Movies were playing in the background but we paid them no mind. We ate our food and cleaned the living room, not wanting to bother Sasha with the cleaning since she was having Niccolo over tomorrow.

I glanced at the clock that was hanging above the door. I gathered my stuff and tucked them in my bag, drawing all of their eyes on me.

“Already? Come on stay longer!” Sasha whined. I smiled softly at her and shook my head.

“I can’t, I’ll see you guys soon.” I waved at them and walked out of the door.

***

“Connie! I’m ho- what are you still doing here?” I froze at the entrance, my keys still hanging from my index finger, my eyes fixated on him as he only stood in basketball shorts.

“What do you mean what am I still doing here. I moved in here remember?”

Silence. Nothing but intense and awkward silence. Moved in? Since when?

“I told you when I came into your room. Weren’t you listening to me?” I stared at him blankly, not able to explain how caught in thought I was when he came into my room. I was too busy checking him out to care about what he was trying to tell me.

“Why didn’t Connie tell me?” I closed the door and locked it slowly, my legs feeling weak, the idea of living with him and seeing him walking around like that making me weak. And extremely horny.

“He said he’d rather if I told you. You know, break the ice.” he shrugged and walked forward, his chest now a few inches apart from mine. “You changed a lot from what I remember.” he lowly said tucking my hair behind my ear.

“So did you,” I replied, staring at his lips. He licked his bottom lip and held my chin between his fingers, forcing me to maintain eye contact.

I was a sweating mess. I still couldn’t believe that this was Jean, the horse face. What kind of water did he drink, and how did he get so big? Look at those muscles-

A sudden feeling on my lips interrupted my chain of thoughts. I soon realized that he held my bottom lip between his brown ones. “Kiss me back y/n, I know you want to,” he whispered, his breath brushing up my face.

It didn’t take me long to pull him to me, crashing my lips on his. He was intoxicating in ways I couldn’t understand nor explain. I needed him close to me at the moment and I didn’t care why.

“Yo, Jean where did you my video game?!” Connie’s voice boomed from the hallway, forcing us apart. Realization slapped my face when I looked at him and saw his cocky smirk. I just kissed him, even though I promised myself I’d never do anything with him ever again.

“I’ll get it!” he yelled back, the same expression resting on his face, his back facing the hallway. “I’d apologize, but you pulled me back. Anyway, I’ll see around beautiful.” he winked and began walking towards Connie’s room, his back muscles flexing at his movements.

What am I doing with myself?

***

The atmosphere felt nice. I couldn’t sleep so instead I lied down on my bed and watched the stars from my window. I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened hours ago and how I had to sit with them and pretend as nothing happened.

Jean was certainly not the little boy he was years ago. He got more confident and a lot more handsome. He was fucking with me and I thought, why shouldn’t I fuck with him too?

After all, I know for sure he didn’t tell Connie anything. He’s too protective of me and if he knew, well let’s just say Jean would be moving out by tomorrow. He trusts him blindly and I honestly just think he doesn’t want me to hook up with him again because he’s just like him.

He likes to mess around. Not the type to stay in the morning after. But neither was I. I sighed and dragged my legs out of bed, my body following.

“Shit now I gotta pee,” I whined stomping slightly on the wooden floor. I ruffled my hair with my hand and slipped on my slippers. I was wearing Connie’s t-shirt, so it was long enough to hide my thighs.

I walked to the bathroom when suddenly a hand grabbed my arm and yanked me into the guest bedroom. My mouth was quick to be silenced by another hand as I was about to squeal.

My back collided with the wall, my hands pinned on each side of my head.

“Jean let me go.” I struggled to get out of his grasp but he kept grinning at me. “Sure.” He let go of his grasp.

I looked around to notice a towel on his bed. “I was going to take a shower but then I heard your footsteps, couldn’t let you get there before I did.” He walked away, throwing his towel over his shoulder.

“Is that all?” I cocked my eyebrow, crossing my arms. He looked me up and down before saying: “You tell me. Need anything else?”

I looked at him briefly, calculating my next move. “An agreement. Connie can’t know.”

“Fuck yeah.” he dropped his towel and stepped closer to me, holding my face with his hands as he crashed his lips on mine. I kissed him back instantly, my fingers finding their way through his hair.

His tongue slipped in, caressing mine. His hands went down my body to squeeze my ass, pulling me even closer to him. My hands traveled across his bare chest, going over his pecs and then gliding one hand down his abs, while the other sat on his shoulder.

We pulled apart, his arms going under my thighs to pull me up and sit me onto the mattress. He walked to the door, locking it before he looked back at me.

Jean crawled over my body, caging me between his arms. “Divine.” he smiled and sat up, his hands tugging at my top. I helped him take it off and threw it on his chair. I was nude underneath him. It wasn’t the first time, yet he still looked mesmerized.

He licked his lips, his fingers tracing my cunt before dipping into my entrance. I arched my back at the sudden intrusion, trying my best to remain quiet.

“I missed your little cunt.” he chuckled massaging my insides slowly. I gasped, my hand immediately covering my mouth.

He rubbed my bud with his thumb, his pace never changing. It was torturing and slow, but I knew we couldn’t make a lot of noise nor make lots of movements that could awake Connie. We had to go nice and easy.

My legs squirmed, the combination of playing my nipples and watching him touch like he does driving me to the edge. My eyes rolled to the back as he added a third finger, my walls clenching tightly around them as I felt myself orgasm around them. “Good girl.” he praised with a chuckle, removing his fingers from my opening.

“Suck your juices off come on.” he tapped my hand, motioning me to remove it and take his fingers in. I stuck my tongue out, his ling digits finding their way down my throat making me slightly gag. “I didn’t know you were such an obedient girl.” he cooed, as I sucked off my arousal.

Jean sat back up, removing his shorts along with his briefs, his erection slapping on my lower stomach. “As much as I’d love you to suck me,” he paused pumping his cock. “I have to say that I miss being inside you.” And with that, he slid all the way in, his mouth silencing my moans.

He stayed still for a while, his eyes staring into mine intensely, almost as if he was trying to tell me something. I nodded my head, his hips moving at my signal. His thrusts were slow and deep, going over every spot. I wrapped my arms around him, my forehead resting against his, as he breathed heavily.

“I want to fuck you dumb, but he’ll hear your moans.” he taunted rolling his hips, his tip almost hitting my cervix. “So good.” I whimpered, wrapping my legs around him, my heels digging into his lower back.

“Jean…” I was close and my legs were a shaking mess. “That’s right baby, say my name.” he breathed in my ear, slightly speeding up his thrusts. I bit onto his shoulder, my orgasm ripping through my body.

I tightened around him, his strokes getting sloppier. It came to my attention that he wasn’t wearing protection, and I wasn’t about to get adventurous like last time. “Jean… pull out…”

“Beg.” was his only reply to which I complied. “Please, anywhere, just not-“ He harshly pulled out, and instead of jerking himself on my stomach, he reached up to straddle my chest and stroked himself. “Open.”

I stuck my tongue out, his hand now replaced with mine as I jerked him off, ropes of cum shooting down my throat. “Such a good girl.” he chuckled, rubbing his hand over his face.

He got off me and pulled his hair back using both hands, his naked body walking around the bed to grab some tissues. He cleaned off my arousal and handed me some to clean the corners of my lips.

“If only you could see how messed up you look,” he smirked and threw me my t-shirt before grabbing his towel and sliding on his shorts.

I put on my top and got off his bed. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and internally yelled at myself. I looked like a mess. My hair was tangled and my skin was all sweaty. Guess I have to take a shower too.

I looked over at Jean to see him staring at me with an amused look on his face. “What?” I cocked my eyebrow. He shrugged and smiled at me. “Connie and I are going out to get some lunch tomorrow. What’d you say?” he requested.

“I mean yeah sure. But Jean he can-“

“Can’t know alright.” he rolled his eyes. We stared at each other for a minute before I decided to leave his room.

As I made my way past him, his hand flew to cup my swollen cunt. “This belongs to me.”

#jean kirschtein fanfiction #jean x reader smut #jean x you #jean kirschtein smut #jean kirschtein imagine #jean kirschtein x reader #jean x reader #jean kirschtien #jean kirstein #jean smut #aot requests #aot x reader smut #aot x reader #aot fandom #aot smut #snk smut #snk imagines #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction

[beann-e]

inspiration from the tiktok audio “ I don’t love you i’m just passing the time “

This was never about you. Honestly you were surprised it took you so long to notice.

No that was a lie you weren’t surprised because it was his fault he never told you flat out that he wasn’t expecting much from you. It’s not that he wasn’t interested he just — he didn’t know what to do. Of course he thought you were beautiful and that’s what scared him but at the same time gave him the energy to talk to you.

His personality was known for leading him to talk to beautiful people.

He was sure he’d never date you because, his heart belonged to kiyoko .

No one could ever top her or at least that’s what he thought until you came along. Here you were in all your beauty putting anyone else to shame that dared to stand next to you.

You were perfect for him and after a couple months you were all his. He adored you even after highschool when you two finally decided to move in together.

he told you every day how much he loved you. His love even trickling down to his actions when he would ask you to do couple things appearing out of no where with a request

‘ y/n how about black hair dye huh ? wanna try something new together i’ll color my hair too ! ‘

you instantly agreeing to every ask all of them ranging from

‘ hey y/n , have you always been able to see? are you sure because you were squinting just awhile ago we can get you glasses I mean I don’t care about price if it’s for you —no no I think we should—let’s do black square rims ? i think they would fit your pretty face ‘

to

‘ babe when you do your makeup this time try some face designs their so cool I see them all the time on my instagram here — can I try ‘ him smiling before sitting next to you and guiding the eyeliner out of your reluctant hand a tight smile drawn across your face

Him smiling when you turned to the mirror to see a small black dot next to your lips. ‘ you look so pretty with it ‘

You hadn’t noticed until the volleyball reunion when you sat in a circle with all the old members and tsukishimas mouth spilling out his harsh words unbothered by your reaction “ why the hell do we have two kiyokos now? “

his glasses moving down on his nose as he spoke again “ y/n i’m sure we only need one I personally prefer the original she looks more “ his head tilted as his eyes ran over your new look “ natural“

“ yeah I was actually wondering that but I didn’t wanna bring it up first I um y/n are you trying to look like kiyoko or “

your small cough coming out and drawing all the attention back to you as you felt the same woman turn to face you her own eyes now seeing what the others were talking about “ of — of course not I — “

“ eh what the fuck “ your boyfriends voice coming out loudly as he now sat pissed off with the group “ are you pricks trying to say I couldn’t get over kiyoko or some shit “

“ what what no tanaka-san we “ sugawaras voice coming out to try to let the tension fizzle out

“ no because I’m feeling like there’s something being unsaid here“ he grunted “ if anyone has anything else to say badly about my s/o then they should just fuck off “

“ tanaka “ you screamed

“ no i’m tired of people thinking I can’t get shimizu out of my head I can —I can and I will “

“ y-you will ? “

“ I mean I have “ his eyes locked with yours as he spoke low “ I have “

The room grew quiet as he stood the chair he sat in being pushed back as he walked off you standing up too offering a small smile to everyone in the circle “ sorry if you’ll excuse me “

“ your good—I think he needs you a little bit more than we do right now“ daichis voice came out a bit more concerned than he wanted it too

Your figure being seen getting smaller and smaller as you ran after your boyfriend to the kitchen grabbing his arm loosely “ babe I “

“ let go y/n “

“ but I — tanaka what’s up why are you acting like this “

“ I said let the fuck go y/n “ his voice boomed as he yanked his arm from you your body moving back a little due to the strength he’d pulled it back with “ i’m going to go get a drink I can’t handle those assholes alone “

“ your — you’re not alone tanaka i’m with you ill handle them with you “

A smile slowly spreading across your face when he stopped moving only to turn over his shoulder biting his lip as he stood thinking to himself his hand pointing to the kitchen “ for some reason that only makes me need a drink even more “

You nodded softly as he rolled his eyes at you “ you do understand correct ? “

“ yeah yeah no of course “ you smiled tightly as he walked off and you walked back to the crowded living room trying to contain your tears that wanted to spill so badly usually when he acted like this he’d drink himself to sleep.

You sat down on the floor letting yourself join the huddle as everyone spoke you getting lost in your thoughts. It wasn’t often that this happened but when it did it never went the way you would want it to. He would always get distant instead of becoming clingy like you would rather. He’d become meaner with his words instead of thinking of you before speaking like he usually would.

“ prick only ever thinking of himself —a stupid child“ you whispered out thinking of your boyfriend and his future actions that you could already predict

“ yeah shoyos gotta be— the asshole requested it “ kageyama whispered to you as you turned to see hinata sitting across from you waving to you when he met your gaze making you speak softly with a smile “ sweet “

“ hey y/n wanna play dare or dare with us ? “

you shook your head laughing a bit “ what are we teenagers again“ you laughed a bit louder “ but no i’ll — i’ll pass “

“ aw come on your the only other chick here besides kiyoko “

“ no no no you guys go ahead i’ll just watch “

everyone sighed as they began the game you hearing loud steps pound through the house as your boyfriends loud voice cut through the laughter “ what you pricks started without me “

“ yeah uh just join tanaka- san “

“ fuck yeah “ he wobbled over to sit next to daichi not locking eyes with you only smiling at everyone around the table taking a long swig of the liquor bottle he’d sat on the table in his adventure over.

The air that was once tense seemed to calm down as everyone started drinking and suggesting dares. You smiling as you looked at everyone this had to be the best night of your life finally getting to see all your friends again after kageayma and hinata traveled non stop and everyone else never had the time to have a party.

You patted yourself on the back seeing everyone having such a good night.

“ ok ok last dare “ nishinoya burped out as he shakily raised his hand already drunk off his ass his words sluring as he spoke “ I dare tanaka—san to “ he took another gulp from the bottle only to push it aside and open the new one that laid dormant between the two of you “ to kiss the prettiest person in the room “

Everyones eyes widening as they all broke out into a laughing fit “ fucking nishinoyas so stupid “

“ this asshole just wasted a dare on an obvious answer “

hinata rubbing the said males back as his head finally dropped to the table cheek hitting the brown table as he laughed “ ha yeah sure ‘m stupid —real stupid “

he smiled drunkenly laughing at the tables comments “ haha its obviously not that obvious “

Your heart dropped smile only following as you looked from nishinoyas eyes to the scene playing in front of you. Your boyfriends lips locked on another pair that weren’t your own. His hands coming up to the back of her head to push her closer to him as he hungrily pressed his lips onto hers

Her eyes wide as his were closed almost like he was enjoying this “ what “ you whispered out as a rough hand came in contact with tanakas shoulder grabbing it and pulling him back

“ what the fuck you asshole “ tsukishimas voice was threatening as he stared down on the male genuinely confused “ what the hell do you think your doing “

“ hey blondy is that anyway to speak to someone older than you“ he scoffed “ mind your manners child “

“ mind— mind your manners? “ your voice was short and quiet as your eyes darted around the room eyes blinking back the surprise they held as everyone turned to face you only making this deepening pit in your stomach grow.

“ why— tanaka— san why would you do that “

“ what — whatd I do this time suga huh — first it was having a crush on kiyoko everyone was screaming how I wouldn’t get her ha “ he scoffed “ fucking assholes were right so here I am with a fucking backup “

He shook his head as he leaned it back to stare up at the ceiling “ shitty arts and crafts project of building her because I couldn’t have the original — fucking sad “

your heart broke “ sitting here pretending kissing y/n is the same as kissing kiyoko — hell I didn’t even wanna kiss y/n right now i wanted to kiss kiy— “

“ shitty asshole you just did “ tsukishimas voice raised his eyes holding the anger you couldn’t even hold for yourself “ you just did right in front of your s/o “

“ well with them looking the same how the fuck was I suppose to tell “ he laughed “ that’s what you said earlier right ? so what’s so wrong with me enforcing it ? “ he scoffed “ everyone already believed it right so why the fuck does it matter they look the same, act the same , talk the fucking same so in the end I kissed y/n right— ha “

your body hurt just like your heart and your brain was spinning “ why would you — why would you date me tanaka if you didn’t want me “

“ did it look like I was gonna get kiyoko anytime soon — your a ditz — the whole time i’m doing this to get over her and you just became her “

you sat silently blinking back the tears that you held throat holding a sob that wanted to make its way out “ get the fuck out “

“ excuse m—”

“ GET THE FUCK OUT “ you screamed your tears disappearing and turning into anger “ get out get out get out “ you screamed hands reaching out to punch him over the table as you repeated the phrase

“ ok— ok stop stop “

“ no no no get the fuck out I paid for this I paid I paid “ you screaming like a child throwing a tantrum in a supermarket him only moving to stand and walk to the bedroom drunkenly to grab his clothes “ just let me grab my stuff i’ll be out of your hair for the night “

you raged as he made his way into your once shared bedroom forgetting the living room full of people as you ran after him to rip the clothes out of his hand that he held. All the items you’d bought with your hard earned money. The shoes you’d spent over 50$ on for his birthday in his hand along with the limited edition shirt you’d bought for him after he begged for it screaming that was his favorite player.

The items that you’d stayed up four hours for the night of just to buy it for him with your paycheck that week. Your thoughts only making you more upset when you thought back to everything you’d done for the male and the stuff he’d done for y—

he’d done absolutely nothing for you in this whole relationship and this only pissed you off more at the thought

Your heart broke again when you noticed you were already screaming at him again “ get the hell out “

“ i’m going fuck y/n “

“ go faster asshole “

“ what so no clothes ? “ he laughed “ come on that’s pretty harsh —baby it’s cold out give me a jacket or something at least until morning when I come back home “

“ morning “ you scoffed “ you’ll need a jacket for awhile tanaka because your not coming back in my house so freeze your ass off out there or go with your high school crush and her husband “

His once smiling face turning into an angry one as he stepped closer to you the alcohol spilling from his breath and onto your face as he stared down at you “ the fuck are you bringing that up for “

“ your the one who went around kissing a married woman “ you were gonna rub this all in his face. You couldn’t wait until kiyokos husband beat up the drunken deadbeat in front of you.

“I thought it was you “

“ yeah sure after you gave me a makeover to look like her i’m sure you did tanaka “

“ so fucking ungrateful “

“ oh now i’m ungrateful “

“ yeah you are “ his voice got louder as he pointed between you and him “ I made you into the woman I love — the perfect woman you should be on your knees thanking me right now “

“ aw should I “ you sighed “ god what’s wrong with me “

“ exactly now give me my stuff back i’m going to bed this is fucking with my head ’m drunk and I wanna bask in it for a minute — maybe forget you just tried to kick me out so I don’t get on your ass in the morning “

“ yeah of course babe you need your rest “ you nodded as he walked towards your door to pick up where you’d thrown his clothes only for you run and jump on his back arms wrapping around his neck your legs wrapping around his torso “ i’m gonna kill you— you asshole “

“ what the fuck “

“ then i’m gonna lock your body in my fucking freezer or even have daichi fake an arrest you prick— you’ve made my life a living hell — and now you wanna sleep— in my house “

You weren’t sure how he ended up leaving all you knew is that your heart seriously broke when you finally locked the door and rested your forehead against it. Tears spilling from your eyes for the first time that night. You’d gone crazy you had to have because just a few hours ago you almost choked the male to death after jumping on his back like a pro wrestler you were really going crazy

Your body relaxed as you felt a warmth make it’s way over to you only for it to tense when a familiar hand caressed your back and tried to lift your upper body up and away from the floor you’d fell onto sometime that night “ come on y/n —at least let me help you to the couch “ a sigh made it’s way through the house “ I promise you can wallow in your shitty tear soaked shirt after I make sure your comfortable and not hurting “

a cough quickly followed “ physically that is — this shits gotta hurt emotionally “

Your words coming out in a slurred whine like a child “ but it’s dirty — it needs to be cleaned “

“ would I tell you to go sit down if it wasn’t “ he spit back as he finally got you to fall into his chest after leading you over to the couch turning off the hallway light and leaving the lamp next to the couch on.

Him sighing out and shifting uncomfortably as you cried into his shirt causing him to need to distract himself from the crying woman in his arms. How the hell did he end up the nice one in this situation

Why did he push everyone out the house? He could’ve left hell he could’ve copied nishinoya and stolen the leftover four liquor bottles you had laid out on the table before everything happened

he wasn’t a comforting person so why would he shoo everyone else that could’ve helped you away?

he scoffed as he tried to fiddle with his sleeves only to take off his glasses and clean them over and over again

“ how many times are you gonna clean them “ you sniffled into his chest

“ until you finish acting like a baby — I feel like I have a kid ? Like i’m a parent I mean what do parents do” his hand softly came down on your head to pet your hair softly unsure why to do in this situation “ I uh— do you want warm milk ? chocolate or strawberry or is it my baby’s bedtime ? “

“ shut up tsuki “ he laughed as he felt you snuggle up closer to him “ so why are you — of all people —the only one that stayed everyone else must think i’m crazy or something “

“ eh I mean they already thought you were we were making bets before we walked in here on what you’d changed this time to look like kiyoko “

you slapping his arm softly before laughing “ god do I really look like her “

His once stoic face grew sad as his eyes ran over your facial features his eyebrows furrowing as he looked down on you “ yeah — yeah you really do — that crazy asshole “ he shook his head hand reaching out to touch your hair again feeling how burned it was from constantly flat ironing it and curling it like tanaka wanted “ god what did he do to you “

“ build a y/n “ you laughed as he stood up his own words following quickly after yours “ come on “

“ what “ you said as you stared at his open outstretched hand “ what’s going on “

“ let’s go “ you shook your head no “ look do you wanna change back or no “

You swallowed the lump in your throat before nodding slowly and taking his hand to travel with him to the bathroom. Him speaking to you softly only loud enough for you to try and figure out some of the words you couldn’t.

“ for some reason I miss old y/n — and I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing em’ again preferably across the table from me in a booth at 2:30 saturday with strawberry cake in front us? “

#tanaka x y/n #tanaka x reader #haikyuu tanaka #tanaka ryunosuke x reader #tanaka x you #tanaka angst #tanaka headcanons #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x you #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima hcs #tsukishima headcanons #hq tsukishima #tsukishima kei #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima angst #nishinoya hcs #nishinoya yuu #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu hinata #kageyama #daichi x you #sugawara koushi #sugawara drabble

[lottiebagleywritesobx]

Tequila confessions

JJ lets out a sigh at the sight of his best friend. He'd been late to the kegger and more than ready to relax and have fun with his friends, he knew almost immediately that his plans were going to be very different.

"JAIII," She's slurring as she shouts, stumbling a little over nothing as she approaches him.

"Hey sunshine," He coos lightly, tucking her into his side as he points Kie a sharp glare.

She holds her hands up in surrender "That girl is crazy," Kie defends, causing the girl to let out a gasp, turning to fight back but seemingly forgetting she was mad in the first place when she actually sees Kie, instead moving to go and hug her friend, she's kept in place though by JJ's arm around her shoulder.

"Seriously Kie, I asked you to keep an eye out for her for like a couple hours cause I had work," JJ complains, it was no secret amongst the pogues that she couldn't hold her drinks, she could casually drink on the boat all day but the minute she was in a party setting she would wind up pissed.

"It's not my fault girls from school wanted to do tequila shots and-"

"Shit! You know she voms on tequila," JJ grumbles

"No, we don't all know every little thing about her," Kie defends, JJ rolls his eyes, glancing to see if she had realised what Kiara meant, she seemed to be entertaining herself by playing with the ends of his fingers that hang around her shoulder. "C'mon, I'll get you a beer," Kie offers.

JJ sighs, he does want to drink with his friends, smoke a bit too. It had been a long day and he needed to relax. He knows though that if his best friend has done tequila shots she'll be feeling ill within minutes and he wants to be able to look after her properly.

"I should probably skip, get this one home," He admits, squeezing the girl in his arms a little, seemingly drawing her attention back to him.

"I'm not going home," She argues, still slurring

"Sunshine, you gotta. You'll be feeling poorly soon and-"

He cuts himself off when she makes a dash for it. Leaving his tight grip and sprinting across the beach to John B who reaches out immediately to steady her and stop her from falling.

"Fuck it. Where's the beer Kie?" JJ decides.

He settles at the campfire, drinking slowly so as to stay sober and look after her when she inevitably needs him. A group of touron girls are talking to him, pawing for attention and he's half listening, his eyes are zoned in on her though.

He watched as she danced with Sarah.

He watched as she played beer pong with some kook boys, not sure if he was mad because she was already drunk enough or because they all kept trying to touch her. He figured it's probably the latter.

He watched as she splashed Pope in the shallow water.

Unable to help himself, a large grin spreads across his face as he watches her approach him. She's reaching out and making grabby hands at him, confidently shoving her way through the girls surrounding him to sit next to him. She doesn't need to worry about it, he's always dropped everything to be with her.

She sits silently, head cocked to the side, eyeing JJ with great concentration  despite her glassy eyes. He takes the moment to look at her, glowing in the light from the fire and biting her bottom lip slightly, she always does when she's focused.

"Your face is stupid but I like it. I like your stupid...it's so...I like it. Can I touch it?"

"Course you can sunshine," He's grinning widely and can practically feel himself melting when her hand reaches out, stroking his cheek gently.

"JJ can I tell you something?" She's trying to whisper but her voice is no where near quiet, hand still cupping his face.

"You can tell me anything," He reassures, hand going to her knee to rub comforting circles on the skin

"I feel icky,"

"You wanna leave?" He asks, his voice soft

"I wanna be with you,"

"Well obviously I'm leaving with you, christ sunshine, wasn't just gonna let you wander off home all alone,"

"But you just got here and then I'll ruin your night-" He can tell she's about to ramble so he decides to cut it off quickly

"I'd rather be with you anyway. Alright?" He speaks so softly that if anyone who knew him and hadn't seen him around her before were to see they'd struggle to believe it was him at all.

**

JJ prides himself on how attentive he is to her needs. No matter the situation he knows what she wants.

Tonight is no different, she's leaning over the toilet of the chateau, JJ is standing behind her rubbing her back comfortingly as he holds her hair back.

She pulls away from the toilet, her face a little sweaty and immediately JJ is passing her a glass of water. She pats the floor next to her and JJ immediately sits. "I wanna give you something," She sighs, her head falling to JJ's shoulder as she hiccups a little

"What is it?" He asks, hand once again finding it's home on her knee, his thumb rubbing gently

"My heart. I wanna give you my heart. How do I do it?" She springs up off his shoulder again, looking at him intensely

"Might take a surgery, we'll leave that one for tomorrow yeah?" He questions gently. He knows he can't let himself, even for a second, think she means what's she's saying. She's intoxicated and she's a sappy drunk and he can't set himself up for that kind of heart break.

"Tomorrow though?"

"Yeah sunshine," He nods.

"You're my best friend JJ, but don't tell Kie," She whispers, although it's still not quiet

"You're mine. But don't tell John B," He hums in response, watching her with a wide smile as she grins, rocking back and forth a little.

"I really love you," She admits, her eyes almost look scared

"I really love you too,"

"No like I really love you. Like I wanna have your babies and be with you all the time kinda love you,"

"You are drunk. You don't know what you're saying," He's more telling himself than her.

"NO!" She shouts, gasping dramatically as though she's offended. "I'm not drunk. If I was drunk could I do this?"

He sits silently for a few seconds, watching as she seems to glare at him instensly.

"What is it you are doing sunshine?" He questions

"I-I'm sending you my love. Did you not get it?" She almost looks like she's about to cry and JJ acts quickly, pulling her into a tight hug. "Can we sleep now blondie?"

"Of course sunshine," He agrees immediately.  He lifts her from the floor with ease, placing her onto the bed in the room that might as well belong to him. He makes her down another water, helping her out of her jean shorts and crop top and helping her into one of his tshirts. Passing her a cotton pad with her makeup remover on.

She snuggles into the mattress pulling the duvet up to just under her eyes as she watches JJ get ready for bed. He turns around to face her "Thought you were taking your makeup off sweetheart?"

"No. I want cuddles,"

"You can have cuddles after you take your make up off," he instructs, she sighs dramatically but rubs at her face with the cotton pad.

He climbs into bed next to her, opening his arms and immediately she snuggles into them, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping her arms around him, he holds her close, rubbing her back gently.  

"I really am in love with you JJ,"

"Tell me again after you've slept and I'll be yours. Okay sunshine?"

"Okay," She agrees, smiling when she feels him press a kiss to the top of her head "You'll say it back though, right?" She questions, her voice slowly becoming more drowsy

"I promise,"

**

JJ wakes up to see her still in his arms. She's awake though, staring at him from his chest.

"Are you watching me sleep like a creeper?"

"Are you gonna say it?" She enquires immediately,  he doesn't like the way his heart swells, maybe she meant it? maybe it wasn't just her drunk ramblings?

"You need to learn how to hack a drink," He scolds lightly

"Not that JJ,"

"I'm in love with you," He speaks quietly, she jumps immediately, sitting up to straddle him and pulling him up with her.

"I wanna kiss you,"

"Then kiss me," He grins, he doesn't think he's ever been happier.

"I haven't brushed my teeth,"

"I don't care," He laughs a little and she giggles

"I do. C'mon," She pulls him from the bed to follow her.

They brush their teeth, JJ's arms wrapped around her waist as they do so and the second both their toothbrushes are back in the little holder his lips are on hers.

He kisses gently, like he's been waiting for this his whole life and he wants to savour every last second. She figures that maybe he has been.

"JJ, did I mention having your kids last night?" She whispers, foreheads pressed together.

"Yeah. You are never living it down sunshine," He's beaming as she giggles, leaning up to press her lips back to his.

#jj maybank #jj #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #obx fic #obx #jj maybank fic

[tobesolonely]

it’s not christmas ‘til you come home

a/n: hello!! please enjoy this piece from my dad!harry universe! (u dont have to read any of them for it to make sense, but it would be cool if u did! loosely based on it’s not christmas ‘til you come home by norah jones <3 hope you enjoy! thank u to @harryysstyless​ for beta reading for me!! happy holidays everyone :)

warnings: SMUT, a bit of angst <3 word count: ~5.1k 

my ko-fi! thank you :)

December 23rd, 2:00 PM

For as long as you and Harry have been in a relationship, you’ve never not spent a Christmas together. 

Before expanding your family, you and he used to hop from party to party every Christmas Eve. Both of you would be absolutely trashed by the time Harry’s driver would drop you off at his house in the early hours of the morning. You’d sleep in until approximately noon, willing your hangovers to go away before finally making it down the stairs and into the kitchen to prepare two steaming cups of coffee. The two of you would then make your way into the living room and exchange gifts (where Harry always went way over the budget you’d set). 

Once you had your first child, Allison, your yearly tradition of party hopping and getting so drunk you could hardly put one foot in front of the other was no more. Instead, you and Harry opted for calm nights in, watching Christmas movies and drinking hot cocoa until she eventually grew tired and got carried up to bed. You would wait an hour or so before springing into action, playing Santa and setting out all of the gifts she asked for and then some. Harry never forgot to take a big bite out of the cookie and carrot left out for Santa and his reindeer.

This tradition stayed the same once your second baby, Oliver, was born. Even though he was too young to know what was going on, Harry was still excited to spoil him rotten this year as it was his first Christmas. However, given the current state of the world, you were afraid Harry would not be here for the first time ever.

“Mumma, when’s daddy coming home?” your six-year-old, Ally, asked for what had to be the seventh time that afternoon. “I made him a drawing for his gift ‘nd I can’t wait for him to see it!”

“Let me see what you drew for Daddy, love bug,” you say cheerily, purposefully glossing over her question. Ally proudly holds her drawing up next to her face. She looks up at you with wide eyes, awaiting a compliment from you. 

“That’s gorgeous, bug! Daddy’s gonna love it,” you inform her. “Maybe you can stick a lil’ bow on it and set it under the tree for him, hmm?” 

“Good idea, Mumma!” Ally runs to the box where you kept all the supplies for gift wrapping, digging around for a pink bow to stick on the corner of her drawing.

While she’s preoccupied with finding the perfect bow to place on her drawing for Harry, you take a quick glance at your phone. He still hadn’t gotten back to you since last night’s quick conversation when he very briefly mentioned he didn’t know if he’d be able to make it home.

He was filming in Los Angeles. You shared your uncertainties about him going before he departed but in the end, this was an opportunity you didn’t want him to miss out on. You read the Los Angeles Times free articles on your phone daily, keeping track of the state of the pandemic in Southern California. You knew it was much worse there than it was at home in London. You feared what you were afraid of was sadly bound to happen— Harry may get stuck in LA.

You didn’t want to say anything to your curious daughter because communication with him had been so sparse. You didn’t know anything for certain yet. But what were you supposed to think? You knew flying nationally wasn’t a good idea at the moment, never mind internationally.

“Hey bug, d’ya think you can watch your brother for a moment? Mumma’s gotta go make a phone call.” 

You hear your daughter let out a slightly irritated sigh. “I suppose I can, Mumma.” Ally responds with a voice laced with exasperation. You chuckle slightly under your breath at your overly dramatic (much like her dad) six-year-old and head into the kitchen, quickly dialing your husband’s familiar number.

“Hello?” 

You let out a sigh of relief upon hearing Harry’s low, hoarse voice. 

“Hi, honey. Just checkin’ in to see how things are going…” you hear shuffling on his end. “It’s December 23rd, you know.”

“I know, love.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Six in tha’ mornin’ here.”

“I’m sorry, H. S’just Allison keeps on askin’ when you’ll be home and ‘m just so worried you won’t make it home on time and you’ll miss Oliver’s first Christmas—“

“Darling,” Harry interrupts your anxiety-fueled ramble. “‘M gonna make it home. Have I ever not been there when I said I would?” 

“No,” you say quietly. “I’m just worried, Harry. I hear traveling is going to get very strict because they’re trying to prevent people from going anywhere for Christmas…”

“Fine, then I’ll get my own plane with jus’ me and a pilot. Wear a mask the entire time and whatnot. Yanno I can make that happen if it’s necessary, pet.” 

Harry’s calm demeanor about the whole situation brings you a bit of peace. Perhaps you were catastrophizing something that wasn’t as big of a deal as you thought it was a mere two minutes ago. If he wasn’t worried about not making it home, you didn’t see any reason to stress about it— not for one second longer.

“Okay then,” you reply, still a bit wary of his travel plans. “What shall I tell your daughter? She’s drivin’ me up the walls asking where you are every twenty minutes.”

Your husband lets out a breathy laugh, causing you to giggle along with him. “Tell her not to eat up all the Christmas cookies before I get a taste of one.”

December 24th, 8:45 AM

Part of you was hoping you’d wake up on Christmas Eve and Harry would be tucked into bed next to you, plump lips parted, the sound of his snores the only noise in the room. However, you were a rational woman, if nothing else. You knew he wouldn’t be by your side when you woke up. 

You make your way down the hall and peek inside your son’s room. He was fast asleep, plump thumb in his mouth. You smile at your sleeping baby and gently close the door behind you, deciding to let him sleep in a bit longer before waking him up to feed him. 

Next, you walk to your daughter's room, gently pushing open the door in case she was still sleeping. Instead, you find her sat at her desk, deeply focused on what appeared to be another drawing. 

“Good morning, lovebug,” you greet your daughter in a sing-songy voice. “You’re up early. What are you working on?”

“Makin’ a letter for Santa,” she replies, not bothering to look up from what she was doing. 

“A letter for Santa?” You start racking your brain for anything you and Harry could’ve possibly forgotten to get for Ally, but you finished your Christmas shopping for your children way back in November.

“Yes,” she answers matter-of-factly. “‘M askin’ him to make sure my Daddy is home by tonight so we can eat cookies together and watch Toy Story, Mumma.” 

“I’m sure Santa will make that happen for you,” you reassure her. “You’ve been a very good girl this year, been so helpful with Olly and doin’ so well in school. The least Santa can do is get you whatever you want.” You see her smile as she digs around in her crayon box.

“Can we wait ‘til Daddy gets home to make Santa’s cookies, Mumma?”

“Sure we can, bug,” Ally claps her hands together excitedly, bouncing around in her tiny chair. “Gonna go make some pancakes, does that sound yummy?”

“Can we have chocolate chip pancakes please?”

“Are you askin’ me that because your dad isn’t here to throw a fit about it?” You give her a knowing smile, causing her to giggle.

“Maaaaybe…” Your daughter turns to face you, swinging her legs back and forth.

“If I make your chocolate chip pancakes, you can’t tell your dad. Deal?” You hold up your pinky. Ally gets up and runs to you and you bend down slightly so she can link her finger with yours.

“I pinky promise, Mumma!”

“Our little secret, yeah?” she nods. “Keep an ear out for your brother for me, bug. I’ll be downstairs.”

December 24th, 3:00 PM

“Love? ‘M afraid I got some bad news...”

As soon as Harry’s voice comes through on the other line, you can tell whatever news he’s about to share with you won’t be what you’re wanting to hear.

“What is it?”

It’s silent for what feels like entirely too long. You get up from your position on the couch next to Ally, telling her you’ll be right back. After breakfast, she convinced you to watch Toy Story with her, which quickly turned into a whole Disney movie marathon.

“Not so sure I’ll be able to make it home.”

You’re not sure if it’s his calm tone that bothers you, the fact that you didn’t want him to go to Los Angeles in the first place, or simply the fact that you and your children missed him terribly and haven’t seen him in nearly a month–– but your mood changes from relaxed to undeniably outraged in three seconds flat.

“You’re kidding.” Your tone is sharp, venomous. Harry once again takes a moment before responding, knowing that the current tone of your voice means he’d best proceed with caution.

“‘M not, love. I woke up early and everything to try and get this sorted out, it’s 7 AM so I was gonna try and catch an early flight––”

“I told you I didn’t want you going to LA,” you cut him off, voice rising slightly. “You knew how bad the pandemic was getting there. I told you this would happen.”

“What do you suppose I do then, Y/N?” His tone is becoming equally as sharp. “Y’want me to tell ‘em, “Sorry, I don’t give a fuck about the travel restrictions. My wife wants me home so let's make it happen!” ‘S that what you want me to do?”

“Don’t be a smartass, Harry,” you spit. “I’ll give the phone to your daughter and you can tell her you won’t be home in time for Christmas, then.”

“Y/N…” his tone is calm again. Fearful. “Don’t make me do that.”

“She woke up early to write a letter to Santa to tell him she wants you home by tonight, Harry,” your tone softens as well. “Even Olly has been asking for you. Swear his new favorite word is ‘dada’.” He laughs at this as do you, and the shared tension that was present just minutes ago dissipates. 

“Just… lemme try a few more things before I tell her, yeah?”

“Harry, it’s already three here,” you gently remind him. “Even if you do make it home today, she’ll be asleep by the time you’re home. I think you just need to tell her.”

Your husband sighs, knowing you were undeniably correct. “Alright. Give Allison the phone, please.”

December 24th, 8 PM

“Almost time for you to head to bed soon, yeah Allybug?” Your daughter lets out a loud sigh in response, not shifting her gaze from the television to you. Ever since Harry told her he wouldn’t be home in time to eat cookies with her, she’s hardly said a word. She’s never experienced a Christmas Eve without her father so understandably, she was missing him tonight.

You shift Olly, who was falling asleep nursing on your lap, into a different position so you could face your daughter directly. From your new position, you can see just how tired she looks. 

“‘M not sleepy, Mumma. Gonna stay up and wait for Daddy,” she informs you of her new plans. “When Daddy is home that’s when it’s time for bed.”

“Ally, remember what Daddy told you on the phone earlier? Santa won’t come unless you go to sleep.”

“I don’t wanna sleep,” she’s quickly starting to grow upset. “Not until Daddy tucks me in!”

You purse your lips, not wanting to argue with your headstrong daughter when your son was so close to drifting off into his nightly milk coma. Turning your attention back to the movie that was quietly playing on the television, you decide to drop it for now and try again later.

December 24th, 9:05 PM

Not more than an hour later, Olly is upstairs in his crib fast asleep whilst Ally is still laying on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, fighting sleep. She was determined to stay up until her father walked through the front door, and you knew getting her to agree to go to bed was going to be a battle and a half.

“You’re not ready to go to bed yet, Ally?” Her eyes fly open once she hears you addressing her.

“Not yet, Mumma. ‘M not sleepy yet.” Her words are a little slurred due to the exhausted state she was in. You hum in response.

“Could’ve sworn your eyes just shut for a minute there,” you pause for a second to see if she’ll look your way. “Must’ve just been my old lady eyes playin’ tricks on me, y’think?”

“I wasn’t sleeping!” She immediately defends herself, frown lines indenting her forehead. “Can we drink more hot chocolate?”

You knew if you wanted your daughter to fall asleep within the hour, another sugar rush wasn’t the best idea. You instead offer her a hot cup of sleepytime tea and she excitedly agrees once you tell her it’s her father’s favorite type of tea to drink at bedtime. You place her down on the kitchen counter while you fill the kettle and wait for it to whistle.

“What are you looking forward to the most from Santa, bug?” 

Her eyes light up at your question. “Well, I really want a new bike! ‘Member Mumma? How I asked him for a pink bike? And I also want a cool swing set! Since we haven’t been able to go to the park in so long,” her smile falters and she looks down at her dangling feet. “I want Daddy to come home the mostest, though.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to break in two upon hearing your daughter admit that Harry being home would be the greatest gift of all. “So do I, lovebug. He’ll be here in the mornin’ to watch you and your brother open all the gifts Santa got you though, don’t you worry.”

For everyone’s sake, you hoped that was true.

December 24th, 11:50 PM

Sleep wasn’t coming easy. 

You finally got your daughter to bed at around ten o’clock and waited thirty minutes before laying out your children’s gifts. It took much longer than it usually did considering you had to do it all on your own. Harry was usually the one to quickly assemble the larger toys while you laid everything out around the living room. 

Despite it taking longer than desired, you were proud that you got it all done without waking your children up. Consequently, that meant you were now left all alone with your thoughts considering you had no more tasks to occupy yourself with. 

You kept contemplating calling Harry, but you weren’t sure if he was busy on set or not. Surely he was immersing himself in work to distract himself from the fact he would not be spending Christmas with his family. 

Deciding you may need a cup of the sleepytime tea you offered Allison earlier, you quietly get out of bed and open your door, sock-clad feet padding softly against the wooden floors. It’s unnervingly silent in your home–– the tea kettle coming to a boil being the only source of noise. You keep unlocking and re-locking your phone, finally deciding to call your husband to see how he’s spending his day. It goes to automatic voicemail.

You assume the reason for this must be that he’s busy filming on set and set your phone down with a sigh, standing on your tiptoes to retrieve a mug from the cabinet. You mutter a slew of curse words under your breath intended for Harry who always puts the mugs up far too high even though you tell him not to.

Right as you begin pouring the now boiling water into your teacup, the faint jingling of your front door causes you to startle so badly that you nearly drop the kettle on the ground. You try to think back to everything Harry ever told you to do in the event of an intruder but your mind goes blank from fright. Deciding to use the scalding water as your weapon, you slowly creep towards the door, your only plan being to fling the water on whoever it was as soon as they got the door open. As soon as you hear the lock click, you flick the lid open that covers the spout and draw your arm back.

“Shit––”

“Harry?”

Your husband jumps slightly, his eyes blinking rapidly in an effort to adjust to the dark living room. You reach beside him and quickly turn on the light, shakily letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He looks exhausted, his hair is an absolute mess, and his eyes are red from sleep deprivation–– but he’s home. You set the tea kettle down on the coffee table and fling yourself into his arms, breathing in the scent of the man you haven’t seen in a month. He drops his bags at his feet so he can properly embrace you, pulling you into him.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head and stays like that for a moment saying nothing, just breathing you in. “Missed ya so fuckin’ much.

“How? I thought…” you trail off. “You said that they said…”

Harry laughs quietly. “Remember what I told ya? I said to ‘em, ‘Don’t give a fuck about your travel restrictions! M’wife wants me home.’” You laugh at him, knowing he was far too kind to talk to anyone that way. 

“Yeah, okay,” you reply sarcastically. You pull him in for another hug, placing wet kisses along his jawline. “I’m so happy you’re home. The kids are gonna be over the moon, especially Allison.” Harry hums, surveying the room.

“Looks like you did a good job in here, Mrs. Claus. See ya even assembled some toys all by yourself,” he quirks an eyebrow. “Were you jus’ pretendin’ not to know how to do it all these years so I’d be stuck with all the hard labor?”

“Maybe.”

He pulls you back into him, tickling your sides. “My sneaky girl,” he bends down so his lips are level with your neck and sucks gently, causing you to let out a quiet moan. You see his eyes land on the tea kettle that was sitting forgotten on the coffee table. “Making a cuppa? Can I have one? ‘M freezin’.”

“I can think of something else we can do to get you warmed up,” you reach for his hands, interlocking his fingers with yours. “If you know what I’m gettin’ at.”

“Hmm…” Harry releases one of his hands from your grip and taps at his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Not too sure I can say I know what you’re sayin’. Maybe you should just tell me?”

You frown. “You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?”

“Y’know I’d give you the entire world if you asked me for it. All you gotta do is tell me what you want from me and it’s yours–– ‘m sure you’ve known that since the first day we met, though.” Harry takes a step back, crossing his arms across his chest. Even in his thick winter coat, you can see the way his biceps flex, and it makes you even more feral for him.

“Fine,” you say quietly, feeling yourself start to grow shy under his intense gaze. “I’m kinda... in the mood.” You say it so softly that it would most likely be inaudible to Harry if he wasn’t standing mere inches away from you. Harry throws his head back in laughter and you quickly shush him, not wanting any of your children to wake up.

“In the mood? C’mon, pet,” he uncrosses his arms and reaches for one of your hands. “Tha’s not tellin’ me what you want from me. Tell me exactly what you want, lovie.”

“You know what I want, H,” you tell him with a hint of annoyance in your voice. “It’s been a month. Yanno I want you to fuck me, why are you makin’ me say it?”

Harry gives you a shit-eating grin. “You jus’ said it. I didn’t make you say anything.”

You roll your eyes at his immaturity, already in the process of lifting your nightshirt (one of his old t-shirts that’s become just a little too tight on him) over your head. “Are we gonna get to it or not? Because if not, I’ll just go back to makin’ myself some tea and call it a night––”

Harry takes half a step towards you and reaches up to cup your face, colliding his lips with yours. His lips are a little chapped and taste of his favorite rose lip balm. You feel your body relaxing into the kiss, knees going weak as he walks you back onto the couch.

“You’ve been eatin’ up all the sugar cookies, haven’t you? Can taste it on ya. Thought those were for Santa,” he’s pulled away from you to examine your face. “A bit naughty of you, wouldn’t ya say?”

“Please stop referring to yourself as Santa when we’re about to have sex, Harry.”

“You’re not bein’ very kind to the person that’s about to go down on you, are you?” He sucks harshly on the valley between your breasts, wanting to be sure a deep-colored bruise will appear on your skin later. “That’s okay. It is Christmas, after all. ‘M in a giving mood.”

“Stop talking and get to it then.”

Harry slides off the couch and onto his knees in between your legs, gently kissing your thighs. “Cute pair of undies–– s’like you knew I was comin’ home tonight.” Before you can respond Harry’s fingers are tugging at the waistband of your underwear, eager to get them off of you. He presses light kisses to your core, mumbling about how much he missed the smell of you and how sweet you tasted. 

One hand is resting across your stomach while the other one is in between your folds, spreading you open. You try squeezing your thighs around his head, overwhelmed by the feeling of your husband’s lips around your clit after being away from him for so long, but he removes his hand from your stomach and pushes your thighs back apart.

“Feels so good,” you’re breathless, tangling your fingers in Harry’s hair as his hollowed cheeks begin to suck more roughly on your clit. “Missed you so much. Missed this–– us.” 

Harry pauses momentarily to look up at you. “I know, angel. God, do I know.” He attaches his lips back on you, swirling his tongue around your clit as you  choke back your moans. The hand that is holding you open moves down to toy at your slit as he wordlessly checks to see if you’re okay with his fingers being in you. 

“Please,” you say softly, encouraging his next move. He spits on his index and pointer finger before slowly sliding both of them in you, immediately curling them up. “Oh, Harry. Fuckin’ love when you do tha’...”

“Know you do,” His response is curt, simple. He’s focused on the task at hand–– getting you off. He uses the hand that’s lying across your stomach to rub tight circles on your clit, sensing you’re nearing your orgasm from the way you’re starting to clench around him. “Such a good girl fo’ me, darlin’. Gonna make a mess on my fingers in a second, aren’t you?”

You nod as you try to control your breathing and the loudness of your moans. The last thing you wanted was for your daughter to come down to inspect the source of the noise. “Fuck, Harry.” 

“Come on, darlin’,” he gently pinches your clit, causing your body to jolt at the sensation. “Gimme a good one. A lil’ welcome back gift for me, hmm?” 

Your hips are bucking up to the rhythm of his fingers slipping in and out of you as your orgasm quickly approaches. “Har, I’m close…” it comes out sounding more like a warning than a statement. He moves the two fingers he has inside of you in a back and forth motion, coaxing your first orgasm out of you.

“Tha’s my girl,” he whispers, not stopping his movements even as your back arches as your first orgasm rolls over you like a giant wave. “Givin’ me a good one jus’ like I knew you would. Jus’ like you always do. M’ sweet girl.” As you’re starting to still, Harry pulls his fingers out of you and holds them up to your mouth, instructing you to suck them clean. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can properly lean in to steal a kiss from him and notice a rather sizable tent has formed in his pants. Harry gives you a sheepish grin as he palms himself, hissing from the feel of his palm against his cock.

“Want me to do somethin’ about that?” You scoot over on the couch and pat the spot next to you, signaling for your husband to sit beside you. He lifts himself from his seated position, stretching his legs out a bit before plopping down beside you.

“Are you offerin’ me a blowie?”

“I mean, yeah?”

“Can we skip that an’ you can jus’ ride me instead? Think I’d quite like that.”

“Oh you would, would ya?”

Harry nods and unzips his pants, taking himself out. He licks his hand and gives himself a few pumps. “Still on birth control, I’m assuming?”

You roll your eyes as you move to straddle him. “Only been gone for a month, Harry. Of course ‘m still on it, you goof.”

“Can never be too careful. I don’t think now’s a good time for another lil’ one, do you? Think we should at least celebrate Oliver’s first birthday before we try for another one.” His hands are on his hips as he lines you up over his cock, helping you slowly sink down. You missed the burn of him which was even more intense than it usually was considering it’s been a while since he’s taken you.

“I think you’re right,” you reply. You rest your head on his shoulder while you adjust to the size of him, needing to take a moment to yourself before attempting to move. After a short adjustment period you begin rolling your hips, grinding against him in a way that was also bringing pleasure to your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your last orgasm.

Harry’s eyes are fixated on the way your breasts bounce in front of him, the way your stomach slightly jiggles each time you crash back down onto him. His lips are caught in between his teeth; you’re hoping he doesn’t break any skin so you don’t have to hear him whine about how badly the bruise hurts him later.

“Ridin’ me like your life depends on it,” Harry mutters. “Fuckin’ love takin’ you like this, angel. So fuckin’ deep.”

You simply hum in agreement, brain far too foggy to form a coherent sentence. Harry notices your movements starting to become smaller, lazier, so he puts his hands on your hips and decides to take over. He’s thrusting up into you like you’ll up and run away from him if he doesn’t give it his all. He cups your face with one hand and gently guides you towards him, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

“Fuck, H,” your eyes are squeezed shut and your wrap your arms around his neck, feeling your second orgasm quickly approaching. “Rub my clit please, almost there.”

Harry’s fingers immediately come down to rub at your slick nub, not faltering his relentless pace in the slightest. “Clench around me again, lovie,” his voice is higher than usual, whiny, and you know your husband is just as close as you are. “Love when you do tha’, jus’ need you to do it one more time.”

You do as he wishes once more, knowing once he cums you’ll be directly behind him. Harry lets out a string of expletives as he releases inside of you, pulling you tightly against his chest as he rides out his orgasm. You continue riding him, not slowly down as you chase your own release next.

“Harry,” you’re in a trance-like state, chanting his name over and over as you bring yourself over the edge. “Harry, fuck!”

“That’s my good girl,” he says quietly, rubbing your back as you rest your head on his shoulder while you catch your breath. You feel him beginning to soften inside of you so you lift yourself off and lay back on the couch, legs still shaking. It’s quiet for a couple of minutes as the two of you reveal in the afterglow of your orgasms, Harry gently running his fingers along your leg.

“Round two in the shower?”

December 25th, 6:42 AM

“Mumma! Santa came and he left lots of toys–– Daddy?”

Harry lets out a dramatic “oof!” as Ally jumps onto him, pulling the covers back. Her eyes are wide and she giggles are Harry pulls her into one of his infamous bear hugs, placing kisses all over his face.

“Mornin’, love bug! What’re you doin’ up so early?”

“It’s Christmas, Daddy! Santa came!” she sits back on her feet, a confused look on her face. “Did Santa bring you on his sleigh last night after me ‘n Olly went to bed?”

“Y’know what? He told me to keep it a secret, but he did,” Allison gasps in response to his news as she processes it, placing a little hand over her mouth. Harry sits up and gets out of bed, scooping her up in the process. “How ‘bout we go make Mum a cuppa before we see what Santa got for you and Olly? Tha’ sound good? Let’s let them sleep for a while longer, hmm?”

As you hear them exit the room you take a second to reflect on how lucky you are to spend another Christmas with you beautiful family before drifting back off into a deep, albeit short, sleep.

#harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #its not christmas til you come home #thanks for reading!

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Interviews - Henry Cavill x wife/actress reader

Summary: You and Henry have been married for a couple years now, and when you’re both part of the Witcher cast, fun interviews are to be had.

Warning: nothing but a good time, btw I’ve never written anything like this so I hope it’s good enough that I might feel motivated to write more

-Readers Witcher character is loosely based off my Geralt fic from here (just a little self promotion), but in this case you play a full vampire in this Witcher universe

The days have been long and grueling, filming hours upon hours of stunts and regular acting had taken its toll. Not to mention the countless times in hair and make up paired with costume changes and traveling to film on certain locations.

To say being apart of Netflix’s The Witcher was full of tiring days and some accidental bruises would be a huge understatement. But none of that mattered, nor did you bother to complain when through the thick and thin of it all did you have Henry with you along the way. And your favorite big slobbery bear, Kal whenever he was allowed on set.

Fortunately for you in the beginning of all the craziness, the casting and writers had wanted you specifically for the part of Y/C/N in the new series before Henry even auditioned for the role of Geralt, that was soon given to him after you accepted your fresh role of vampiric heroine.

It was ironically strange in a good way, you had watched your dork of a husband play the Witcher: Wild Hunt a few times before, eventually learning of what Geralt of Rivia was, who Y/C/N was in the story, who Yennefer and Ciri were, Tris and even Jaskier.

Who would have thought that you’d finally get to snag a role side by side with Henry in quite literally one of the most fantastic shows you’ve ever heard of. You didn’t even need to see the show yet to know how well it was most likely to be reviewed. Being a key character in the grand storyline was enough to convince you of how amazing it would most certainly turn out in the finished product.

And after all was said and done, you couldn’t believe how well loved and popular the show truly became in the following months after shooting and its eventual release onto Netflix. The after parties and cast celebrations truly made you blessedly grateful for pulling through to the vary end.

Then again you had your mans Henry by your side every step of the way. He was your rock and you were most definitely his. You know life on set would have been far less entertaining and dreadfully long if not for the lovely company of your dear Witcher, Henry. And so far after the fact, you and a good portion of the cast have been placed in random interviews for the majority of the day.

Reason being, The Witcher has at long last finally premiered and as per usual the people and media live for those cast interviews that always reveal some interesting events. So far this morning you’ve done some interviews with Anya that have gone perfectly fine since the two of you seem to click so well.

Also it helps ease the anxiety of your fellow newer cast mates to the world of continuous interviews with an experienced veteran actor like yourself, who’s gone round the ring more times then you can count. Though you can’t help but wonder how Henry’s doing, considering you’ve been separated since the sessions began at 10am, you’ve had lunch and now it’s about 1 in the afternoon with more hours to go.

Luckily for you, you’ve just been informed of another interview with the man of the hour himself. Saying your goodbyes and well wishes to your fellow cast mates, you stand and follow the guide into the advised place. Aka some really nice hotel room that’s been done up real nice for efficient interviewing, complete with the Witcher insignia on a large background poster and three chairs that happen to look rather comfy.

The camera and sound people nod in acknowledgment as you walk in, you nod back no doubt making their day with your friendliness and adorable smile that quite literally lights up a room. Soon you spot the bubbly yet nervous interviewee who instantly welcomes you into her space like you’re an old friend.

You sit, a bit confused as to where your partner happens to be at the moment, the interviewer, Lauren makes small talk before a door opens and her big bright doe eyes go wide in nervous excitement. A telling smile upon her face as she shifts in her chair before looking back to you again with a happy grin.

Henry says a quick hello to the behind the scenes crew before waving to Lauren, you smirk while watching him get comfortable next to you, “Well, well, well. Get lost on your way up, you know they have guides for a reason.” You tease as he chuckles at your humorous jab, relieved to see you again after a couple hours apart.

“Traffic.” He quips with a shrug.

“Uh huh.” You mutter with a shake of your head before drawing your attention back to Laura, “Can’t take him anywhere I swear, he does this all the time.”

She laughs as Henry pretends to gasp at your teasing, you chuckle along with them before she finally collects herself, “Well, welcome back to London. It’s fantastic to have you both in town once again, and your big beautiful faces all over Leicester Square.”

You both laugh, “Right.” Says Henry, “I guess we do look pretty cool.”

“Hell yeah, I mean where else can I see myself with a giant sword on a building? And anyways look at this beautiful mug,” You say gently squeezing Henry’s cheeks in your hand, “he’s literally killing it out there.” They laugh as you give Hen another playful squeeze before letting go and setting your arm against the chairs cushioned armrest. 

“Alight let’s start.” She says enthusiastically before glancing down at her cards then back up to you and Henry. Then into one of the two the cameras, “Hi I’m Lauren from Entertainment Weekly and today we’re here with the two stars of Netflix’s The Witcher.” She says enthusiastically while giving a nod to you two, indicating that the camera is now focused on you both, “Henry Cavill and Y/N Cavill.”

You both smile in acknowledgment as Henry gives a slight nod, “How you doing?”

“I’m great,” She beams, “So, I’ll get right into it, what do you like most about the story? What really drew you into the script that made you say, yes this is going to be awesome?”

Slapping a hand against Henry’s muscular leg, you hum, “I’ll let Hen take this one he’s a real expert on the linguistics of the whole show.”

“Thanks Y/N/N.” Replies Henry, bemused that you’re making him take the first question.

You nod to him knowingly with a smirk, “Of course.” Knowing how much he loves to talk about the show and also because you’d rather have him use his energy to talk about it then do that yourself. Priorities, right, though in your defense it’s been a long day.

“Well I absolutely love the games and the books themselves are phenomenal works of literature.” He explains, his face glowing with that usual glimmer of excitement in his eyes, “The story and the world of the Witcher is just so rich and full of potential that when I signed on for the show, I immediately knew it would be amazing, no doubt.”

You lean into the arm of you chair, “And of course I was there so that’s always a bonus.”

“That too.” He smiles adorably, “That too of course.”

Lauren smiles, “Great. So, what was it like working together, how was it having your characters interact with one another?”

You smile, setting a hand against Henry’s forearm, “This guy right here.” You deadpan before waving him off dramatically, “So annoying, my god he whined all the time and he was such a drama queen dear lord so ugh....” You start cackling before you can even finish the sentence causing Henry to loose it as well and with that the interviewer.

Shaking your head you rest your hand against his shoulder, “I joke, he was a gem to work with as usual...I mean I feel incredibly blessed to be able to act alongside my husband for months and months every single day. It’s a rarity in this line of work and I’m grateful to have shared this experience...and I guess more so this whole adventure with him as well.”

The interviewer aww’s as Henry tilts his head to lean into your hand that’s still resting atop his shoulder before pulling away just as quickly, the intimate sentiment not going unnoticed by you or Lauren who looks to be enjoying your loving yet calm energy with one another. “That’s so sweet, what about you Henry?”

“Oh yes absolutely,” Agrees Henry to your recent statement, “not only did I have her by my side through it all but the dynamic of our characters interacting together was so fun to shoot. I think the audience will really be able to see their relationship grow on screen into something strong and beautiful like in the books.”

Slow clapping you give him a curt nod of approval, “Well said.”

Lauren smirks, “Seems like it. Well, I was able to catch the premier yesterday and I gotta say...it was fantastic! I couldn’t believe how diffident the two of you looked from how you are now.” She gushes enthusiastically.

The corners of Henry’s lips curl into a proud smile for the fellow crew of the Witcher’s, “Oh that’s great then, honestly we gotta give all the props to the costume and makeup team, they’re so talented and know how to make us look like real badasses.” He adds.

You nod in agreement before grinning at a positive memory of your first interaction with Henry as Geralt, “Oh for sure, I remember during the early stages of production when our characters met each other for the first time, before this we came to set together but went separate ways to shoot our own stuff in the meantime so I never got a real look at him.” You recall with a bright smile as Henry watches your every move, beaming just the same.

“It was so funny, I was in the tent with Freya Allen, the wonderful girl who plays Ciri, and then suddenly her eyes got all big and nervous and I was like, that’s not me right? Something weird didn’t just happen with my costume? And then I turned around to find this man, wig on, face a mess, and his eyes looked so fearsome and different...it was a bit startling.” You say with a chuckle, “I clearly wasn’t expecting to see Geralt right then and there. He just looked so unlike Henry.”

“Yeah, I was almost hurt.” Laughs Henry, “She had to like squint and make sure it was me.”

Rolling your eyes, you shrug, “He had some real creepy looking colored contacts, yunno?”

Henry fake scoffs, “You’re one to talk, I mean when I first say her, Y/N’s eyes were red and she had fake blood spattered all over her face and shirt. Oh, and not to mention those fangs they put on your teeth...we probably traumatized poor Freya that day.”

“Oh shit you’re right!” You exclaim with a snort of concealed laughter, “God I completely forgot about how I looked...now since I think about it, I did that a lot too. I would just walk up to people and be completely oblivious as to what kind of nightmare I looked like, honestly I might have scared one of our producers a couple of times.” You add with a half nervous laugh, it’s true, you did scare some of the crew unintentionally. Most of the time.

Lauren lightly chuckles, “That sounds like you were quite the sight to see then.” She says before glancing back down at her notes, “Alright I have’ta ask, is there anything that you two took home with you from set?”

“Besides Henry every night,” He holds back a laugh while covering his mouth as you nonchalantly continue, “Uh, yes actually I got to take home Y/C/N’s wolf ring that I loved so much and just thought was the coolist thing ever and....uh, I might have stolen some socks too.”

“So that’s why after filming the amount of socks of yours I had to fold increased?” Wonders Henry with a surprised snort of realization.

Turning your head to give him a “no shit” kinda look, you look back at Lauren, pointing your thumb at Henry, “Master sleuth right here, but hey, he folds my laundry.”

“Aw that’s great.” Adds Lauren with a smile before turning her attention to Henry, “What about you Henry? Take anything from set?”

“More then Y/N did actually...”

“He just about took the whole makeup trailer most nights, I swear.”

Henry chuckles, “That. Is true.” He agrees with a nod, “Interesting enough, at home I’ve got Geralt’s armor hung up in our living room and a multitude of other nicknacks that I’ve collected during filming.” He adds, glancing over to you, “So uh, yeah, we were fairly lucky to be able to snag what we could.”

Lauren smiles, absentmindedly shuffling her cards, “That’s awesome to have such special memorabilia, you guys really are fortunate.” She adds before reading off from another card, “Alright you two, care to play a game called guess the image? Witcher style.”

Your face perks up at this, you’re a sucker for interview games and Henry knows it, “Are you reading my mind or something, I have been waiting all day for someone to ask about playing a game.” You gush rather enthusiastically. 

He smiles at your adorableness and how excited you’ve just become, Lauren grins, happy that her suggestion has been so well received, “Okay so how it works is, I’ll show you an image on my iPad and then you have to guess who or what I’m showing you.”

“Oh, cool I’ve heard of this,” You reply, turning to Henry with a smirk, “Loser has to clean Kal’s yard poop for a week.”

Rolling his gorgeous blue eyes he chuckles, “You’re on.”

“Alright, the stakes are high, you two ready?” Beams Lauren, holding her iPad to her chest as she awaits an answer.

“Yes, I’m ready to kick his ass.” You quip, leaning an arm against your chair while Henry does about the same, though he does his best to contain his laughter.

“Okay, first image.” She holds up the device to show some sort of weird golden thing, it’s shiny and hard, worst part is that you’re not entirely sure what the hell it could be.

Sensing your confusion Henry nudges your shoulder, though you ignore it before he smartly answers, “Oh, is that...Renfri’s brooch?” Little shit knows exactly what that is, of course he does.

Lauren claps, “Correct.” Zooming out of the image to show the full picture of the golden brooch, “Right on, that’s one point for Mr. Cavill.”

You scoff playfully, “Beginners luck.” While Henry side eyes you with a humorous grin upon his plush lips, he nudges your arm, “I’m going to really enjoy not cleaning up Kal’s grass turds for awhile.” He mutters lightheartedly, though you know deep down he’s being serious, no way is he going to win this, you think. You won’t have it, hopefully the next few pictures aren’t as difficult, Kal duty is not fun by any means.

“Shut up.” You grumble with a dismissive wave of your hand, though just teasing of course.

“Okay next image.” This time the blurred photo looks much more familiar, soon it clicks as to what the obscured blurriness actually is, yes!

“Got it! Anya’s er I guess Yennefer’s dress from the fight at Sodden.” Lauren giggles, zooming the image out to reveal Yennefer in her tasseled blue and purple dress from the battle at Sodden Hill. “I’m amazing I know.” You boast at Henry with a casual little bow in your seat.

“It’s the second question.” He deadpans, eyes crinkling in amusement as you shake your head at him.

“Pffff get outta here.” You mutter back, gently pushing his arm off of your chairs armrest and setting yours in its place while he gives you a fake shocked expression.

In turn you can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips, so instead of saying some sassy remark that would no doubt get a reaction out of him, you turn your attention back over to Lauren who’s looking over her notes again.

“Fantastic,” She says, glancing back up at you and Henry, “you’re both tied with one point each. Alright, anyone know what this is?” She asks showing something red and fuzzy, a bit of dirty skin showing from one corner but with The Witcher this bloody image could literally be anything.

The both of you squint, puzzled as to what this could be, “Y/N you got any ideas.” Wonders Henry, brows furrowed as his face contorts into deep concentrated thought.

Raising a brow, you hum, “If I knew I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Fair point.” He chuckles.

Lauren smiles, “Any guesses?”

 After a few concentrated moments, Henry shrugs in defeat,  “I’m stumped.” He admits as you study the image harder, mind racing to put the pieces together as to what the hell you’re looking at.

“No, I think I might know this....erm is it...me?” You wonder, voice raising in question, hoping to be correct about this or face the teasing of Henry.

Lauren quickly zooms out of the obscured image, “It is!” She says excitedly, revealing the picture of you from your characters debut in episode 2 where you save a girl from a werewolf, your mouth is covered in blood and so is most of your costumes chest area and left arm from the struggle. Not to mention the make-up teams fun 20 minutes of throwing fake sticky blood all over you to get the right look for the taxing scene.

You grimace a bit, “Oh god that was quite the day on set,” You recall with a half smile, “I was doing stunts all day covered in that red syrupy dye, I think it took a week to get out of my skin.”

Henry suddenly snorts with laughter, “Right! That reminds me, I thought Kal had gotten cut or something, it was just Y/N who had hugged him not realizing she still had some fake blood on her arm.”

“Jeez that’s right, I felt so bad, but I couldn’t stop laughing once we realized it was just me.”

Lauren grins, excited to hear some hidden information about little things that happens behind the scenes, “Oh wow that must have been a sight, alright Henry, Y/N’s taken the lead with a two to one score.” She says as you playfully nudge his strong shoulder. “Second to last image, what is this?”

Without missing a single beat Henry replies, “Jaskier.”

Squinting at the image you lean closer to the iPad, “How the hell do you see Jaskier?”

Smiling the interviewer zooms out to reveal the bards full outfit from the banquet scene, though he’s in the background of a fight between Geralt and some Cintran knights. “Right on!” She exclaims as you lean back into your seat dumbfounded, shoulder flush against Henry’s as he clutches your arm and squeezes it affectionately.

Ignoring his silent show of victory you shrug, “And they say he’s just another pretty face,” Earning a laugh from Lauren and some of the crew as you smirk at the camera, face them shifting to apologetic, “also I’m so sorry Joey you beautiful bastard apparently I’m blind. Uh, we don’t have to dwell on it, Lauren whatcha got?”

“You guys are both tied with two points each, last chance to win.” She replies before glancing down at her iPad, “Alright, what is this?” She asks, her iPad showing that of fuzzy bright colors, with a small corner smear of dull white that clearly wouldn’t make much sense to the untrained eye.

Smirking you glance at a puzzled Henry before sitting up in your seat, feeling rather good about yourself, “Would that happen to be, Hen in Stregobor’s illusion?” You answer with, though sounding a bit as a question considering you aren’t entirely confident as to what image this is.

Lauren’s brows raise in surprise, “Henry, looks like we have a winner. Y/N you are correct.” She beams, enlarging the image to reveal Geralt’s side profile as he talks to the old wizard while the background stays colorful and shrouded in various arrays of sunlight..

Shaking your fist victoriously in the air you give a couple enthusiastic whoop whoops while Henry simply takes it like a champ, “Have fun cleaning up Karl’s monster turds, cause this lucky lady doesn’t have to.” You boast as Henry and the crew laugh.

“Well that was something,” Beams Lauren, “I’m so glad to have chatted for a bit about your guys’ amazing new series, and maybe ended a relationship in the process.” She says jokingly as both you and Henry chuckle.

Patting his thigh affectionately, you smirk, “He’s a tough old bear, but yeah, it was awesome having you talk to us.”

“Yes, take care now.” Adds Henry while the interviewer Lauren stands, saying her goodbyes as she goes to exit the room.

The camera crew take a small break to adjust things and whatnot as you and Henry wait patiently for the next interviewer. He turns, an adorable smile pulling at his lips while you pretend to ignore his fiery gaze. “Well that went pretty well, minus the fact that I’m on Kal poop duty for a week...but uh...” He leans in close to you now, “I missed you all morning.”

Breaking out into a smile you raise a brow, “Boring without me huh?”

“Always.”

You casually shrug, “I figured as much. Don’t worry, we have a hotel all to ourselves tonight.” Your brows wiggle suggestively causing your blue eyed lover to shake his head with amusement.

“Say it louder next time.” He jokes.

Side eyeing the oblivious crew you begin to speak a couple octaves louder, “Henry I can’t wait to fu..” Suddenly his hand presses against your mouth before you’re able to call any attention to yourself. He gives you a warning look before slowly pulling his hand from your mouth.

You grin mischievously, “I wasn’t gonna say that...”

“Sure Y/N,” He mutters in your ear as a new interviewer walks into the room and finds their chair, “and I’m wasn’t going to make you scream tonight.”

Your brows raise in surprise and admittedly slight arousal at his choice of wording in this room of all places. Eyeing him up, face still showing surprise, you finally break out into a satisfied smirk. “You know what? I think you should consider changing your offer.”

He thinks deeply for a moment, though you know he’s only pretending to get you riled up, “Hrmm...maybe, possibly, should I? Should we? You are my co-star after all, that wouldn’t be very professional now would it Y/N?” He states with a shit eating grin, all done while the crew and interviewer get ready, minding their business and completely unaware to yourself and Henry’s teasing.

Scoffing playfully you lightly swat his arm, “We are way past being professional.”

He chuckles, looking from you to the rest of the room, “Oh, they have no idea.”

#the witcher x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill

[nerdzzone]

Luckless Romance

Summary: When Whitney Taylor was lucky enough to get the job of a lifetime doing a photoshoot for Marvel Studios, she didn’t expect to come away from the experience with a new friend. Especially not a friend that she quickly fell head over heels for.

Convinced that those feelings were completely one sided, she kept them to herself - until one night changed everything.

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

Prequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy + -More Hearts Than Mine-

Note: While this is set before the other two parts of this story, I would definitely recommend reading the other two first if you haven’t already. I know that might seem odd, but I do think it flows better that way. This is more of an aside than an introduction, I think, but it could just be that I wrote them in this order so that’s how it makes sense to me.

Anyway! Thank you to everyone who has been eagerly awaiting this part of their story. The support has been so motivating and I’m already working on more little snippets of their lives together that should hopefully be posted soon.

Please let me know what you think! 

_____

August 2015

Growing up in Los Angeles - especially with a rather well known uncle - I was very aware that celebrities were really just normal people who usually weren't deserving of the obsessive adoration they received from the general public.

That being said, it still felt very surreal when I found myself sitting around a table with some of Hollywood's biggest stars as we celebrated the end of a long and tiring photo shoot in which I was the photographer. Three weeks earlier, I had been slaving away at a department store portrait studio taking boring, uninspired family photos, so the contrast between that and where I was now - sharing drinks with the cast of Marvel's next big movie after wrapping my first real photography gig - would be enough to make anyone feel a tad awestruck.

It didn't help that it had all come together so quickly that I'd hardly had time to wrap my head around it. The photographer that they originally had lined up to do the shoot had some kind of family emergency and had to drop out at the last minute. They were going to postpone the shoot indefinitely, but my family connections with Iron Man provided another solution. My uncle Rob wasted no time in giving Marvel my name and portfolio and less than twenty-four hours later I was signing a contract for the biggest career opportunity I'd ever had.

I was endlessly grateful - the pay was far better than I was getting at the department store and there was plenty of potential for more Marvel related photo shoots in the future - but the pressure was nerve wracking. I'd hardly slept at all in the few days leading up to it and by the time we wrapped, I was exhausted. As the adrenaline faded and the relief that I survived kicked in, I was very much looking forward to crawling into my bed with a nice glass of wine to get a good night's sleep before I started the editing process the next day.

But there was no time for rest with this crowd and it was quickly decided that we were all going out for some kind of unofficial wrap party. The official one had been two weeks before when they'd finished filming in Georgia, but now that they were reunited in L.A., it seemed another celebration was necessary. I'd protested at first and tried to sneak off before they could realize I was gone, but my uncle thwarted my plan and, after a few minutes of heavy guilting about how long it had been since I'd spent any time with him, I reluctantly agreed.

Which was how I found myself sitting at a table in a private room of a popular bar with my uncle - Robert Downey Jr - my Aunt Susan, Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, Sebastian Stan, Scarlett Johannsen and Paul Rudd. There were other cast members and their friends dotted around the room, some sitting by the bar while others played pool, and I couldn't help but take a moment to be grateful that I'd been given a chance to join this team of incredibly talented people in some small way.

I was also taking a moment to be grateful that my placement in the booth we were sitting in gave me the opportunity to be sandwiched between the wall and Chris Evans - who smelt so good that it should probably be illegal.

There'd been a spark between us all day. He was attractive - I'd known that going in, it was a pretty beautiful cast - but seeing him in person with all his Captain America muscles was really quite a sight.

But it was more than just that.

There was something about the way he looked at me, flashing me those blush inducing smirks along side his teasing comments and the way he was so genuinely kind and polite to me throughout the whole day. I was sure that my uncle had warned them that this was my first high profile shoot, but Chris had been incredibly supportive and he never came across as condescending if he offered me any suggestions. He checked in with me throughout the day to make sure that I wasn't getting too overwhelmed and it was very much appreciated despite the fact that his effortless flirting often left me more distracted than productive.

Sitting next to him now, feeling his thigh pressed against mine due to the tight squeeze needed to fit our whole group around the table, had me very distracted again until my uncle dragged me back into the conversation.

"So, Whitney, how's Trent?"

His question, or more likely the displeasure in his voice when he asked it, captured the attention of the table and all eyes were on me as I shrugged.

"He's great as far as I know, but I haven't talked to him in a while," I admitted. "We broke up a couple of months ago."

"Thank god for that," Robert grinned. "It's about time!"

"Don't be insensitive," Susan scolded him, which probably would have been deserved if I didn't know how accurate of a statement it was. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I think she means 'what horrible thing did he do that finally made you come to your senses'?"

Susan swatted at her husband, but I cringed at the memory.

"It was really bad. I don't even want to tell you."

His jaw tightened at that remark as his glee shifted to something more like concern.

"What did he do? Do I need to assemble my team of Avengers and kick his ass?"

I giggled at the thought of that happening as all the men around the table voiced their willingness to help.

"Thank you, but no, I'd rather you didn't," I assured them. "It wasn't anything horrific, it's just embarrassing that I ever went out with someone as sleezy as he was."

Chris glanced down at me with a smirk on his face.

"Well, in that case, you gotta tell us now..."

The rest of the group nodded in agreement and I, rather foolishly, looked at my uncle for support, but all I received was a shrug and a raise of his eyebrow as if to say 'go on'. So, against my better judgment and with a sigh of shame and regret, I explained.

"He took me out for drinks on my birthday and invited some woman that he met on Tinder to join us," I informed them. "Apparently, without my knowledge, he'd advertised that we were looking for someone to join us for a threesome that night which was his birthday gift to me."

There was a collective widening of eyes and, after approximately two seconds of stunned silence, a howl of laughter came from my uncle. The rest of the group, however, seemed unsure what to say until Paul spoke up.

"Well, was that was you asked for?"

"No!" I shrieked in protest. "I mean, to each their own, but no! Absolutely not!"

My uncle looked like he was about to cry from laughter as the rest of the group joined in with him. All except for Chris, who was biting back a smile with what seemed to be a considerable amount of effort.

"Guys, c'mon, don't laugh at that!" He scolded them. "That's horrible!"

"Oh, don't feel too bad for her," Robert warned him, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "The guy took her to Hooters on their first date and she still agreed to see him again."

It was true and looking back, I had no way to justify such a poor choice. I felt my cheeks heat up as I took a long sip from the gin and tonic in front of me.

"Shut up," I huffed. "He said he just liked the wings there..."

"That's classic," Sebastian smirked. "That's what they all say!"

"Why did you even agree to go out with a man named Trent?" Anthony chimed in. "There's no way someone named Trent isn't going to be a douche bag."

Chris laughed then, throwing his head back as his hand came up to rest on his chest.

"That's true!" He howled and, as embarrassed as I was by the situation, I couldn't help but feel a different kind of flush at the sound of his heartfelt laugh.

"Okay, okay, that's enough," Susan chimed in despite the smile on her face as well. "It sounds like poor Whitney has learned her lesson so there's no need to make her feel any worse."

Robert shrugged and gave me a pointed look.

"As long as she promises to make better choices."

I appreciated that he had my best interest at heart, but I rolled my eyes anyway in a show of annoyance.

"Don't worry," I assured him. "I'm swearing off men for a while so there will be no choices made at all, good or bad, for the foreseeable future."

Susan frowned at that information, clearly displeased by my resignation to being alone, but luckily, a distraction arrived at our table and forced a change of subject - a distraction in the form of Jeremy Renner with a very full tray of shots.

Everyone cheered at the sight of him, but my uncle nudged me under the table to draw my attention back towards him.

"This is why I call him the Lord of the Underworld," he warned me. "Be careful..."

"Don't listen to him!" Jeremy insisted, handing out two shots to everyone except my aunt and uncle who weren't drinking. "I just know how to encourage everyone to have a good time."

"Does this group need any encouragement?"

Scarlett's question earned a laugh from the crowd, but Jeremy nodded his head.

"Apparently so or you wouldn't all be sitting in a corner, nursing your first drinks!" He pointed out. "So, drink up!"

He lifted a shot glass in the air and we all copied the action, giving a 'cheers' before tossing back the sharp tequila he'd chosen. The second shot went down almost immediately after and as I felt it burning down my throat, I knew we were in for quite a night.

-

"So, how are we going to do this?" Chris asked as we stood around a ping pong table with Anthony and Scarlett a bit later in the evening. "Girls against boys?"

"No way, man," Anthony shook his head, putting his arm around Scarlett's shoulders. "I want this one on my team."

"Ouch," Chris smirked. "But whatever, I was just trying to make it fair. If you want to play against the two best players then that's your choice."

"You literally met her today," Scarlett reminded him with a laugh. "How would you know what her ping pong skills are like?"

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but my uncle beat me to it as he chimed in from where he sat at a nearby table.

"She's terrible at almost every sport, but what she lacks in skill, she makes up for with competitive spirit."

"Terrible is harsh!"

My protest did nothing to reassure Chris though as he shook his head.

"Good thing I have enough skill for the both of us then."

"I have skills!" I insisted. "Let's stop messing around and I'll prove it."

Anthony joined in the laughter at my expense as he bounced the ball on the table.

"Alright, do we all know the rules?" He asked. "The ball has to bounce once on your side of the table before you can hit it back."

"First to ten?" Chris suggested. "We'll let you guys go first."

We all agreed and Anthony bounced the ball again as he prepared to serve. He started off slow and gentle, lobbing it over slowly enough that I returned it with no trouble. However, when Scarlett hit it back, Chris made it clear he was here to play as he hit it with enough force that Scarlett had to leap out of the way to avoid being hit.

"Yes!" I cheered, reaching over to high five Chris. "Nice one!"

"Okay, I see how it is," Anthony shook his head as he tossed the ball back to us for our serve. "No holding back now."

Chris smirked as he easily caught the ball. He didn't waste any time before throwing it back with a hard serve, but this time they were ready for it and Anthony hit it back easily. He aimed it at me, which I could only assume was deliberate due to my uncle's doubts of my abilities, but I managed to send it straight back. His surprise at my success was clear as he was unprepared for it to be heading back in his direction and we scored another point.

"Beginners luck!"

Robert's interjection from the sidelines earned him a rude gesture from me, but I knew he was probably right - unless the last couple of drinks had somehow sharpened my reflexes and I seriously doubted that as I was already well on my way past tipsy.

However, the next few rounds showed that my uncle had been wrong and I, apparently, had quite a knack for table tennis. Chris and I worked together like a dream and were absolutely decimating Scarlett and Anthony. The game was almost over as fast as it started, but when we only needed one more point Chris suddenly appeared to give up. He missed shot after shot and we were quickly losing our lead which was making me lose my temper.

"Dammit, Chris," I huffed, trying to suppress my annoyance as he missed a very easy ball. "Get it together over there!"

"Me?!" He gawked. "I thought you were going to get that one!"

"It was clearly on your side!"

"If that's what you think," he started as he picked up the ball and came back to the table. "Then you need to get your eyes tested, sweetheart."

"Don't 'sweetheart' me," I shot back. "Start paying more attention before you make us lose."

"Whatever you say," he smirked at me before adding: "Sweetheart."

I shot him a glare and - without thinking - I swatted his very hard to ignore, perfectly sculpted bum with my paddle. He yelped, catching the ball that he'd just thrown into the air with the intention of serving and stared at me wide-eyed. I was almost as surprised by the action as he was and I opened my mouth to apologize, but I was interrupted before I could.

"Careful there, Whitney," Sebastian warned from where he sat with my uncle at the spectator's table. "That's Marvel property!"

"They're very protective of it too," Anthony joked. "It's one of their best assets."

"Yeah, so show it some respect," Chris demanded, looking cocky despite the slight red tint to his cheeks. "And anyway, if you're trying to get me to focus then I don't think making me think about spanking is a great strategy."

"Ooh," I giggled. "Someone get me the number for TMZ! I've got tomorrow's headline ready for them: 'Chris Evans likes to be spanked'!"

Chris barked out a laugh, shaking his head as he gently served the ball.

"Who said I like to be the one receiving?"

My mouth went dry when I realized what he was implying and several uncalled fantasies flashed through my brain. With that short little sentence, images filled my mind of him using his large hands for something entirely different to what they were currently doing - something that perhaps involved bending me over his lap. I felt a wave of heat wash over me at that thought as my gaze was drawn to him while I wondered if he was aware of the effect that he had on me. I was so pathetically distracted that I didn't even see the ball coming back towards us until it hit me on the side of my head.

-

Despite my embarrassing blunder, Chris and I managed to get ourselves together quickly enough to still win the game and our victory was promptly celebrated by another round of drinks.

My aunt and uncle left not long after that as they were eager to get home to their young children, but my uncle couldn't go without a few parting words when I hugged them goodbye.

"Chris is a good man," he informed me. "I'm not sure what his stance is on threesomes, but he wouldn't take you to Hooters on a first date, that's for sure."

I could tell what he was implying, but I questioned him anyway. The only answer I could pull out of him was a teasing wink and Susan ushered him out the door with a roll of her eyes and firm instructions for me to call them soon.

I tried to push his comment from my mind because the thought of a man as handsome, funny and intelligent as Chris Evans even considering the idea of taking me on a date seemed like insanity, but I would have been lying if I said it didn't instill a tiny flicker of hope in me. I was fairly certain that he had been flirting with me so maybe it wasn't entirely as far-fetched as my low self-esteem would have me believe.

I tried not to dwell on his words too much through the rest of the evening, but it was hard to shake the idea from my mind. Especially with how tactile he was with me. Whether it was when we moved on to dancing and he pulled me close, whenever we were walking to the bar and kept his arm draped around my waist or when we eventually settled on a pair of bar stools, sitting close enough that my knees were tucked between his.

That was how we were sat, tucked together at the bar, when I finished another drink and realized that the fuzziness in my head and the weight of my eyelids were telling me that it was time to head home. I wasn't eager for the night to end, I wanted to stay in this little flirtatious bubble as long as possible, but I could feel the alcohol induced fatigue hitting me and I knew I needed to leave before I no longer had the energy.

"How are you getting home?" Chris asked when I announced my departure. "Do you want some company while you wait for a cab?"

"Oh, that's okay," I assured him as I slid off the bar stool I'd been sitting on. "I'm just gonna walk."

"Walk?" He raised an eyebrow. "Where do you live?"

"Only about twenty minutes away," I shrugged. "It's no big deal."

I was being purposely vague, but Chris' questions persisted until I finally confessed what neighbourhood I lived in. Once I did, a worried look clouded his face.

"Really? That's not a great area..."

"It's not that bad!" I insisted. "I mean, I'll definitely move once the photography thing picks up and I would appreciate if you don't tell my uncle, but it's not that bad."

"He doesn't know?" Chris raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that could only be interpreted as one of judgment. I nodded in answer to his question and he sighed, tossing back the last of the beer in front of him before standing up as well. "Just let me say goodbye and I'll walk with you."

"No, no, you don't have to do that! Stay with your friends."

"My Ma would kill me if she found out I let a woman walk home alone and I'm guessing Robert would have something to say about it too from what you just said," he insisted, flashing me one of his dazzling smiles. "Besides, I was gonna head out soon anyway."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded in response.

"Absolutely."

I felt bad that he was leaving because of me, but I had a feeling that any arguments would be futile. I followed him around the room, saying goodbye to the few people who were still at the bar before we headed outside. As soon as the fresh air hit me, I really felt the full affects of the several drinks I'd had throughout the night and I was quite grateful for Chris' company on my walk.

"Thanks for doing this. I'm sorry you had to leave early."

Chris had pulled his baseball hat lower on his head, probably in an attempt to hide his identity a bit more, but the people bustling in the streets were too oblivious or drunk to pay much attention.

"Don't worry about it," he smiled down at me. "It was time for me to go anyway. I've had enough wild nights with Renner to know that nothing good happens after midnight."

"Oh, I see how it is," I smirked. "I thought this was a chivalrous gesture, but it's just an act of self-preservation."

Chris laughed, a deep laugh that made my smirk slide into a grin, as he held out his arm for me to take which I happily did.

"Can't it be both?"

"I suppose. I guess you must be pretty chivalrous to take on a role like Captain America." As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt my cheeks heat up. "Sorry, that was dumb. I sound like some shitty interviewer. Like, 'tell me what aspects of the character you see in yourself'."

I'd put on a bad, faux news anchor voice for the last part of that sentence and I felt Chris' arm shake as he chuckled, but he shook his head.

"Nah, it's fine. It's a fair question," he assured me. "I think I've always been pretty chivalrous. I'm close with my mom and two sisters so they made sure I knew how to treat a lady. But that is one bonus of playing a character like Cap, he has such strong morals and such a steady sense of right and wrong, it inspires me to be as much like him as I can be."

Just as he finished his thought, I stumbled over an uneven part of the sidewalk and was only saved from face planting by his grip on my arm. I flushed with embarrassment again, but the alcohol in my system had me dissolving into giggles.

"Sorry, thank you. Wow, I'd say you really do have some Captain America traits." I flashed him a smile. "Was it like a lifelong dream for you? If you don't mind me asking, last question about it, I promise."

"You can ask all the questions you want," he shrugged and it seemed genuine, not just an expected assurance. "But no, it wasn't. I actually turned it down several times."

"Really? You did? Isn't a role like that every actor's dream?"

"Probably," he nodded. "But I did the Marvel thing with Fantastic Four and even that little taste of fame was almost too much for me. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do and I'm so grateful for all the opportunities I've been given, but it can be a lot to deal with."

"Those obsessive fangirls too much for you?"

"Sometimes," he admitted. " I was already having panic attacks, so I wasn't sure that I could handle taking that next step. But it's more just the total lack of privacy that comes with fame. Not just for me either, I knew it would affect my whole family."

"That makes sense," I nodded, knowing from my own experience that he was absolutely right. There'd been a few unfortunate incidents on slow news days where articles about 'Robert Downey Jr.'s niece' had popped up after some of my poorer choices in life. "Are you glad that you went for it now?"

"Absolutely! It was the best thing I've ever done. There are times when I still struggle, I don't do well at the premieres with all the pressure and the people, but the whole cast is like a family so the support is amazing."

"It's really sweet how close you guys all seem to be."

"It makes a big difference," Chris agreed as we turned off the main street in the direction of my neighbourhood. "But what about you? Have you always wanted to be a photographer?"

I paused for a moment as I tried to get my rather tipsy brain to figure out the simplest response to his question.

"Yes and no," I finally answered. "I've always loved photography, but I never really considered it as a career until about two years ago. I actually went to university to study accounting."

"Accounting? Wow, so you're a math wiz?"

"Hardly," I giggled. "It was what my dad wanted me to do to guarantee myself a solid career, but I hated it. I flunked out within a year. I'm not entirely sure that my dad has ever forgiven me for it, he was really disappointed in me."

"But surely he just wants you to be happy, whatever job you have..."

"You would think so," I shrugged. "Doesn't feel like it all the time though. He's very against the whole starving artist thing. He's not a bad person, but he's very practical and just can't understand how suffocating an office job would be for someone who likes to be creative. I get the impression that just being around me these days exasperates him."

I felt another blush cover my cheeks as I realized I was over-sharing. It could easily be blamed on the alcohol, but Chris was a good listener and I found him very easy to talk to.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "That was more information than you probably needed."

"You don't need to apologize so much," Chris assured me. "I wouldn't have asked the question if I didn't want to hear the answer."

"Sor-" I paused. "Bad habit, I guess."

Chris squeezed my arm and shot me a reassuring smile before getting our conversation back on track.

"So, what made you persevere with photography in the end?"

"I just really enjoy doing it. I love capturing those unexpected moments, like the awkward laughter in between poses, the moments when people have their guard down and don't realize how beautiful they look. Then, when I get to share the photos I've taken with people and they see themselves in a different way, the joy it brings them makes it worth any financial struggles." As I finished my explanation, a thought struck me. "I actually got some good ones today, just on my phone when you guys first came in, not doing the planned and posed stuff."

They'd all been so excited to see each other even though it was just a few short weeks since they'd wrapped the film. It was sweet and I hadn't been able to resist capturing their reunion.

"Really? Could I see them?"

"If you give me your phone number, I can send them to you," I smiled up at him. "That would actually be helpful. They're obviously different than the ones I took for the actual shoot, but you can tell me if they're any good or if you think I just got the job because of my connections."

I reached into my bag and handed my phone to Chris so he could type in his number which he did before shooting me a skeptical glance.

"Do you really think your connection to Robert is the only reason you got the job?"

"Well, it was all so last minute. I can't help, but assume it's a mix of desperation and some pulled strings," I admitted. "But I know this is my one shot. Robert really believes in people making their own way in life so if I totally blow this opportunity, I know he won't fight for them to have me back again and I wouldn't want him to."

We turned another corner, taking us just a few blocks from my apartment building as Chris answered.

"I'm sure he wouldn't have gotten you the job if there was any chance that he thought you would fail," Chris assured me. "But he is a good person to have in your corner. I probably wouldn't have taken the Captain America gig at all if it wasn't for him convincing me I could do it. He can be very persuasive."

I smiled at that information. I knew my uncle didn't like to take no for an answer so I could imagine how that conversation went.

"He can be very encouraging when he needs to be," I agreed. "Even if that encouragement sometimes comes out in the form of publicly shaming someone for their taste in men."

Chris let out another deep laugh and shook his head.

"C'mon, you gotta admit you deserved that."

"I did not!"

"He took you to Hooters and you didn't run away as fast as possible," Chris reminded me as if I could have forgotten such an embarrassing decision. "If that's not deserving of some public shaming then I don't know what is."

"Dating is hard these days," I huffed. "Maybe it would be easier if I had giant muscles like you, but it's hard to meet people."

"I think having muscles the size of mine would actually make you less hot."

I couldn't bite back the giggle that slipped from my lips as I looked up at him with a questioning raise of my eyebrows.

"Less hot?" I asked. "That would imply that you think I'm hot now."

"I do," Chris smirked confidently. "I think you're fuckin' gorgeous."

His words instantly made my cheeks heat up again. I'd baited him into the compliment, but I didn't expect his blunt and honest answer. I was stunned into a momentary silence that only made Chris' smirk grow wider until I giggled once again.

"You're just drunk."

"I am not," Chris chuckled. "Well, maybe a little, but that doesn't change the facts."

There was a grin on my face and I felt like a little schoolgirl with a crush. Chris Evans just called me gorgeous. Any woman who said they didn't swoon in that situation was probably lying.

"That's very sweet of you to say," I told him, trying to play it cool. "You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself."

Chris squeezed my arm again as he flashed me a smile.

My apartment building was in sight now, just half a block away, and I was disappointed that our evening was about to end.

I was comfortable with Chris. He was nice and easy to talk to and I'd had more fun and laughs with him in the last few hours than I'd had throughout most of my last relationship. But despite our harmless flirting, I knew he was too good for me. I knew that I didn't stand a chance with him and that when the alcohol wore off and the sun came up, he would see that. As much as I wasn't ready to say goodbye, I could hardly keep us walking in circles around the block without him noticing so I reluctantly slowed to a stop outside my building.

"This is me..."

Chris looked up and nodded slowly.

"It doesn't look so bad."

"Because it's not!" I insisted. "Honestly, this isn't that bad of a neighbourhood."

"Well, it's not that great either, Whitney."

Another giggle slipped from my lips as I pulled my keys out of my purse, reluctantly slipping my arm from his.

"Your accent makes my name sound funny," I teased. "You don't say Whitney, you say Win-ney."

Chris laughed, but shook his head.

"Now who's drunk."

"Oh, definitely me," I admitted. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"Okay, Winnie, whatever you say."

He said my name wrong on purpose that time, but there was something about it that put a smile on my face. Emboldened by the alcohol and by his flirtatious nature, I decided to take a chance.

"Do you want to come up for a bit?" I asked. "One last drink maybe?"

Chris hesitated, but after a moment of thought, he shook his head.

"Nah, I should probably get home. I think I've had enough drinks for tonight." His solid reasoning eased the blow of rejection slightly, but it still burned me up inside. "Thanks for the invite though, maybe I'll take you up on that offer another time."

"Sure," I nodded, hoping I was masking my disappointment. "That would be nice."

"Great," he grinned before pulling me into a hug. "It was nice to meet you, Winnie. I have a feeling that we're going to be good friends."

Friends.

Good friends.

His words echoed in my head as I agreed and slipped out of his grasp. We said our goodbyes, I thanked him for escorting me home and I watched as he walked back down the street before I went inside.

Friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S.

At least he'd made himself clear and subtly let me down easy before I had chance to form any wrong ideas about what our relationship was or could be. It hurt and I would be lying if I said it didn't feel a bit like a stab in the heart, but I was glad that he'd put me in my place before I made a fool of myself by making a move.

I knew I'd been getting ahead of myself anyway. I knew he was way out of my league, but he'd called me gorgeous and walked me home. He'd even given me a nickname. Maybe I'm just easy to impress, but it felt like he was interested. I guess being a big star in Hollywood requires a certain level of charm though and he was probably just used to being naturally flirtatious with most of the women he encounters.

I sighed as I let myself into my apartment and tossed my bag on the table by the door. I'd felt like the luckiest girl in the world only moments earlier and now I was back to feeling like I was a romantic lost cause. I dragged myself through the motions of getting ready for bed and flopped down on top of the blankets - it was too hot to be under them and I didn't have the luxury of air conditioning.

Perhaps it was for the best that Chris declined my invitation to come upstairs, I thought to myself. This apartment was hardly up to Hollywood standards, it was hardly up to my own standards even if it was all that I could afford.

As my head laid on the pillow and my heart sat heavy in my chest, I told myself that it was fine. If Chris wanted to just be friends then I would be grateful that he even wanted that. I made a mental note to send him those pictures in the morning - because I'd promised to and not because I was curious to see what kind of response I would get when he was sober - and fell into a restless sleep filled with dreams of my new friend.

---

July 2016

And so, we were friends. Good friends, maybe even great friends.

I sent Chris the photos he’d asked for the day after we met and we spent most of that day messaging back and forth. Our friendship only grew from there and, whenever he was in town, we spent as much time together as we possibly could.

But we kept things very much friendly.

There was some flirtatious exchanges, but I respected his wishes and kept the feelings that I'd developed to myself.

My career really took off in the year after we met as well. That first Marvel photo shoot had gone incredibly well which led to several more contracts with them as well as other high profile jobs. It was a long, busy year, but I was grateful and relished in my success.

I'd even managed to move into a new apartment in a much nicer neighbourhood which felt like quite a big achievement and had finally silenced Chris' fretting about my safety. I moved in May, but our busy schedules kept him from seeing my upgraded home for himself until that summer, almost a year after we met. He was returning to L.A. from a trip home to Massachusetts and we hadn't seen each other in months so I was very eager for our reunion. Despite the fact that were still in constant communication, I'd missed him terribly and had been counting down the minutes until he would be arriving at my place.

"So," My friend's voiced echoed through my phone from where it sat on the bathroom counter while I finished curling my hair into beachy waves. "Are you going to finally make a move tonight?"

"No," I scoffed. "Of course not, Hannah. I've not seen him in a while now, I want us to have a good time. I don't want to make him uncomfortable and ruin everything."

"I will bet you a thousand dollars that it wouldn't ruin everything," she insisted. "Honestly, I will give you a thousand dollars if you make a move tonight and it goes badly."

I rolled my eyes as I finished the last curly wave and reached for my hairspray.

"You can't put a price on my friendship with Chris."

"Oh my god," she groaned. "He's told you that he thinks you're gorgeous, he makes time to hang out with you whenever he can and he texts you every single day. He treats you better than any boyfriend you've ever had. How can you think he doesn't have feelings for you?"

I took a moment to spray my hair and give myself one last look over before taking her off speaker and answering the question as I walked towards my kitchen.

"Because he straight up told me that he wants to be friends," I reminded her. "And he's never given me any other signs that he's interested in anything more."

"He doesn't need to give you any signs. When someone looks at you the way that he looks at you that says enough."

"Well, I'm going to need him to say a little more."

Another groan came through the phone as the buzzer to my apartment rang.

"You're impossible."

"I know, I know, and my lack of self-esteem will make me die alone," I said, repeating the words she'd told me a hundred times. "But he's here now, so you're going to have to save your criticisms for another time."

"Just tell him how you feel," she huffed. "I expect a full report in the morning."

The buzzer rang again as I agreed and said my goodbyes to my friend. I took a deep breath and a moment to push Hannah's words from my mind before pressing the button on the intercom.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Win, it's me! Let me up."

I pressed the button to unlock the door and felt my lips slide into a cheek aching grin just from the sound of his voice. It had been too long since we'd had a chance to hang out and I was very much looking forward to a nice evening together.

It took him barely a minute to get up to my apartment, knocking twice before letting himself in.

"Hey!" I grinned, rushing towards him as he held his arms open. I threw mine around him as soon as I was close enough and squeezed him tightly. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too," he smiled. "Nice place you got here, someone's doing well for themselves."

"Oh, please," I giggled, slipping out of his arms. "I've seen your house, Mr. Evans. This is a dump compared to where you live."

"Nah, this place is great!"

"It's definitely an improvement," I admitted as I led him towards the kitchen. "Would you like a drink? I bought that beer you like."

"You didn't have to do that. I would have been fine with whatever you have in," he chided me, but I waved him off and assured him it was fine. "What's the plan for tonight anyway?"

I shrugged as I opened the fridge to get a beer out for him and a bottle of wine for myself.

"I don't mind. Do you want to go out for drinks later or just stay here? It is a Saturday so everywhere around here will be packed with women in their early twenties if you'd like your ego stroked a bit."

I was referring to the last time we'd gone out and made the mistake of going to a bar that turned out to be pretty unfriendly to celebrities. A lot of places in L.A. made it easy for celebrities to go under the radar, but the place we'd gone to apparently wasn't one of them. There was a steady stream of beautiful young women trying their luck with Chris all night until we eventually fled and went back to his place just to give him some peace.

Chris laughed, clearly understanding what I was referencing, but he shook his head.

"Honestly? I'd prefer to stay in tonight," he admitted, but a smirk slid onto his face as he very obviously gave me a once over. "But you got all dressed up and it would be a shame to waste an outfit like that on a night in."

"Oh, this old thing?" I glanced down at the short black sundress I was wearing, a blush covering my cheeks from his compliment. "I just put this on in case we did decide to go out, but staying in sounds good to me. I'm well stocked with supplies."

I gestured to the wine and beer on the counter and the few bottles of hard liquor behind them.

"Then we'll stay in?"

"Sure," I nodded as a thought hit me and I gasped with excitement. "Oh, we can sit on my balcony! It over looks the park and I just got a new little couch for it."

"Very fancy," Chris laughed. "You really are doing well for yourself."

"Shut up," I rolled my eyes. "I don’t think Ikea patio furniture is a particularly high aspiration for anyone."

"Don't sell yourself short! You're finally getting recognition for your talent and that's worth celebrating."

I smiled as I led him through the living room and opened the door to my balcony with a flourish. The heat of July in California hit us immediately, but the balcony was shaded which made it a more reasonable temperature.

"This is nice," Chris nodded approvingly. "Well done, Winnie."

He sat on the couch and held his beer up towards me. I gently clinked my glass against it before sitting next to him. I thanked him once I was settled, hiding the width of my grin with my glass as I took a sip.

"So, how was Massachusetts?" I asked, curling my feet underneath me. "Do you have much more time off or are you back at it pretty quick?"

"I've actually got some time off," Chris informed me. "I think I'll probably spend most of it back home. It was great being there the last few weeks. It just feels better than L.A."

"Most places probably feel better than L.A.," I pointed out with a scoff. "This place is exhausting."

"You should come visit some time," Chris suggested before flashing me a smirk. "I feel bad leaving you here when I'm clearly your only friend."

"Excuse me, that is not true!" I protested, my jaw dropping at his insult as he chuckled at his own joke. "I have plenty of friends, thank you very much. All those liquor bottles on the counter are leftover from my very crowded house-warming party."

"Oh, no, Winnie," he laughed, his hand coming up to his chest. "Don't try and provide evidence that you have friends. That makes you seem even more pathetic."

"More pathetic than what? I have friends!"

"Imaginary ones don't count."

I couldn't help, but laugh at that insult as I shook my head.

"You're so rude. I don't know why I put up with you."

"Because you have no one else." He shot me a very over the top look of pity until I swatted his arm and he dissolved into laughter again. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. Seriously though, you should come out to Massachusetts sometime. I'll show you around."

"That would be fun," I agreed. "I'm pretty busy with work over the summer, but I think I'm in New York for a shoot in September. I could maybe tie a trip in with that if you're still out there."

"I should be if nothing else comes up," Chris nodded. "And fall is a great time to come. It's gorgeous."

"I bet. It would be nice to experience a season instead of just this sweltering L.A. heat all the time."

I made a face to emphasize my point as I sipped my drink and Chris eyed me suspiciously.

"I can't help, but get the impression that you're not loving it here at the moment..."

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Not really. I thought moving into a better apartment would help, but I'm just kinda tired of it, I guess."

"It can be draining here," he nodded. "Have you thought about moving somewhere else?"

I sighed and shook my head.

"Not really. I'd miss my family too much. I'd have to have a good reason, I think, or know someone wherever I was going."

"Well, you'll always know someone in Massachusetts," he smiled. "And my Ma would love you. I'm sure she'd take you in right away."

"Awe, Mama Evans. I'd love to meet her...Mostly so I could demand an apology for her part in raising such a horrible man."

Chris threw his head back with another chest grab worthy laugh.

"Oh man, I know. My brother is pretty awful."

I snorted a laugh at his comeback, but shook my head.

"Scott was delightful the few times I met him," I informed him. "I was clearly talking about you."

"Me?!" He gasped dramatically. "What are you talking about? I'm a total gentleman."

"Imaginary friends don't count," I repeated his words back to him in a very bad impression of his deep voice and Boston accent. "Yeah, you're such a gentleman."

"It's called a joke, Winnie," he teased. "Try having a sense of humour."

I stuck my tongue out at him in response, but I had to admit that the teasing was nice. I really had missed him while he was away and I was relieved that we fell back together so naturally that it was like we'd never been apart.

-

Our conversation continued to flow well into the night and so did our drinks. A few hours later and several alcoholic beverages down, the temperature was starting to drop a bit as the sun set, but our conversation was just starting to heat up.

"So," Chris turned to me with a smirk as he sipped the tequila sunrise I'd just made for him. He'd sworn he wouldn't like it, that it would be too sweet, but apparently he was too tipsy to really care. "How's your love life these days? Any more trips to Hooters?"

I snorted a laugh as I shook my head.

"I need more alcohol if we're going to delve into my love life."

Mostly because the biggest detriment to my romantic life was currently sitting on the couch with me, but I wasn't going to volunteer that information. Chris nudged the bottom of the glass in my hand, gently enough not to spill any but firmly enough to lift it slightly.

"Drink up then because I'm curious. Especially after a statement like that."

The irony of someone who was very vocal about how much they hated being constantly interrogated and harassed about their love life trying to do that exact thing to me wasn't lost on me, but I knew he'd keep pestering me until I opened up. I did as Chris suggested and took a large swig of my drink before answering him.

"No, there hasn't been any more dates at Hooters lately," I assured him. "But I did go on a date last week that was disappointing in it's own way."

Chris raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? How so?"

"He turned out to be a Robert Downey Jr. fanboy," I admitted, rolling my eyes as Chris let out a laugh. "It was going well until I made the mistake of mentioning that he's my uncle. He wouldn't shut up about him - stop laughing! - It was awful. Honestly, he went on and on! I eventually asked him if he'd rather be on a date with my uncle than me."

"And what did he say?"

I scowled at the memory.

"He said yes and asked for his number." That admission drew another howl of laughter from Chris and I couldn't help, but giggle along with him despite my shaking head. "Honestly, Chris, it's not funny. I have the worst luck."

"You have the worst taste in men." He corrected and I wondered briefly if he'd be less confident in that statement if he knew that he was my taste, even more so when he continued. "You're only interested in the douchey guys and then you're always shocked when they act like assholes."

"That is so not true!" I protested. "How am I supposed to know they're going to be douche bags? We talk for like two days on a dating app before we meet up and they always seem normal!"

"What was this one's job?"

I cringed and took another big swig of my drink.

"A club promoter."

"Exactly!" Chris groaned. "And hadn't the one before him quit his job to try and get famous on YouTube?"

"Instagram," I corrected. "But, so what? I struggled for a long time before my career went anywhere. You can't judge people by something like that."

"For the most part, I agree with you," Chris nodded. "But there are some careers that only attract a certain kind of person."

I huffed at his logic, but there was some truth to what he was saying.

"Dating is just hard these days," I insisted. "Besides, from what I've seen online lately, you're one to talk about messy relationships."

Now it was Chris' turn to take a gulp of the drink in his hand as he raised an eyebrow at my claim.

"Everything you read about me is bullshit, you know that. I haven't dated anyone lately, people just like to make things up."

"Oh, what I was reading the other day wasn't really about who you were dating."

That got his attention as he shot me a surprised look.

"What was it about then?"

"I thought it was all bullshit?" I smirked. "Does it matter what it was if it's not true?"

Chris shrugged.

"Even if it's not true, I like to know what people are saying about me."

"And you don't have a team to provide you with that information?"

"I do," he nodded. "But they don't tell me everything so I'd love to know what you read."

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling shy about disclosing what I'd seen. I took a moment to figure out how to say it before telling him.

"I stumbled across an article that claimed an anonymous source, who recently spent the night with you, told them that you are not particularly skilled at going down on a woman."

Chris' jaw dropped and I couldn't help, but laugh again at the outrage on his face.

"That's fuckin' bullshit!" He protested. "Why would anyone believe an anonymous source? It's obviously not true! Why would they even write that?"

I smirked again as I tried to hold back the laughter bubbling up inside me. Of course, I didn't believe an anonymous source and I felt bad for Chris that mean rumours like that were being spread around the internet, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to tease him about it anyway.

"I don't know. She must have had some kind of proof, they wouldn't have published it without fact checking."

"They absolutely would!" Chris laughed incredulously. "They publish anything that gets clicks!"

I shrugged and tried to stifle the giggles still fighting to come out.

"It seemed pretty believable to me. I'm not trying to be mean, but maybe just take the criticism and use it to grow."

"I don't need to use it to grow!" He insisted. "I have plenty of skills in that area, I've never had any complaints."

"Until now."

"It's not true!"

"Unfortunately, I'll never know..."

I froze, hearing my words echo through my head as Chris' eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment before a twinkle appeared. It was a simple statement, but we both picked up on what it implied, especially with the hint of intrigue, almost challenge, in my voice.

Chris tossed back the last of his drink and then shifted, sitting up a bit straighter as the look of annoyance on his face had changed into something almost cocky. I took a sip of my own drink, hoping to drown the nerves that were bubbling in my stomach as the cool evening breeze suddenly did nothing to ease the heat that surrounded us.

"Well, how am I suppose to prove it to you?"

He moved his hand until it was resting on my knee and I had to stifle a gasp at the sensation. We were fairly affectionate and much more touchy with each other than many friends were, but this felt different. There was a tension between us now and I swallowed hard, not wanting the alcohol in my system to make me misinterpret anything.

"I don't know." I bit my lip as he stared me down, a smirk back on his face now. "Why don't you de-describe it?"

Demonstrate.

Demonstrate was the word that I was looking for, the word that was on the tip of my tongue.

Describe was not quite as flirtatious. It was like I'd just set him some kind of essay assignment. I cringed, but Chris was unfazed as he chuckled and nodded his head.

"Alright," he shrugged. "Where should I start?"

Before I even had time to answer, he began his explanation.

His voice was low as he spoke, sparing no detail. He described every kiss, every touch and every little tease. By the time he was describing how much he liked to watch whoever was he was pleasuring, looking up from where his face was buried to see her orgasm roll through her body, I was almost shamelessly panting. His hand was still on my leg, stroking higher and higher on my thigh and I felt more aroused from his words than I had from the last few sexual encounters that I'd had.

He was watching me when he finished speaking, a smirk on his face and his eyes narrowed in a seductive stare as I took a shaky breath.

It was now or never.

Tossing back the last of my drink, I put my glass on the table. Then, I took the glass in his hand and did the same.

He was watching me the whole time, meeting my eyes as I sat back on the couch. My mind was running a mile a minute as the gravity of the situation hit me, but I tried to push all thoughts of doubt from my head as I bit my bottom lip in anticipation. His eyes flicked down to watch the movement and that was all the confirmation I needed.

I darted forward fast enough that I wouldn't have time to change my mind and pressed my lips against his.

There was a brief moment when he froze. I felt his hand tense on my thigh and his body seemed more rigid than it had moments ago, but he recovered quickly and a low growl came from his throat before his hands moved to my waist and effortlessly lifted me into his lap.

I gasped at the movement, momentarily taking my lips away from his, but before I could even mumble out any comments on his strength, he'd pressed our lips together again.

It was a sloppy kiss. Spurred on by our mounting tension and the panic bubbling inside me that any minute now he would change his mind and push me away in disgust, our movements were frantic and desperate. My hands slid around his neck, one moving up to the back of his head as if I needed to hold him in place, but his fingers digging into my waist made me think that he was having the same thought.

Eventually though, the need for air forced us apart and I rested my forehead against his as we fought to catch our breath. The pause in our actions gave my brain time to catch up to my body and I immediately felt the nerves kick in.

Logically, I knew we should slow things down and talk about what this meant. My feelings for Chris went deeper than a drunken hook up and I was setting myself up for heartbreak if he wasn't on the same page. However, there was a more impulsive part of my brain that didn't care. I'd wanted this for so long, surely I deserved a chance to just enjoy it.

As if Chris could read my mind, his deep voice cut through my thoughts.

"Are we really doing this?"

I bit my lip, knowing this was the time to voice any concerns that I had, but as I stared into his eyes, I couldn't make myself jeopardize the moment.

"Yes," I nodded. "I'm in if you are?"

A smirk slid onto Chris' face as he nodded as well.

"I've been waiting almost a whole fuckin' year for this," he admitted. "I'm absolutely in."

I felt my heart flutter at his confession. If he'd been waiting for this as long as I had then that must have meant that we were on the same page. No one waits that long for a meaningless fuck, he would have made a move by now if there wasn't more to it.

In an effort to silence my overactive brain, I pressed my lips back against his which proved to be the perfect distraction. All worries and cares slipped from my mind as his tongue slipped back into my mouth and his hands drifted down to cup my ass. I could practically feel them burning through my thin dress and as they squeezed slightly, pressing my hips closer towards his, I could tell that my panties were already much damper than was probably reasonable.

But the anticipation was practically killing me.

My body felt like it was on fire as every brush of his tongue, every caress of my skin, every sigh that fell from his lips against my mouth, had me writing against him like a cat in heat. Often, when I'd imagined what this moment would be like, I'd assumed it would be slow - we'd take our time and savour every touch - but I hadn't factored in just how desperate we'd both be or how quickly I would be filled with the absolute need for there to be less layers of fabric between us.

Chris sucked in a deep breath as his lips moved from mine, sliding lower to kiss along my jaw. I could feel a bulge growing between us, telling me that he was as overeager as I was so, as shivers tingled down my spine from the trail his mouth was taking, I fought through the distractions to speak.

"Chris," I panted. "Let's go inside."

His lips paused their movement as he nuzzled into my neck.

"Not much of an exhibitionist?"

"Not on the first date."

My words were teasing and a shrug of my shoulders accompanied my response, earning a chuckle from Chris.

"Alright, that's fair."

I nudged his head away from my skin so I could press another soft kiss to his lips.

My intention was to then climb off of his lap and lead him into my apartment, but he had other ideas as his hands slid under my thighs and his grip tightened. With one smooth motion and an impressive show of strength, he stood from the couch and lifted me up with him. I gasped and rushed to wrap my legs around his waist for stability, but the smirk on his face and the bulge of his bicep told me that it probably wasn't necessary. He was incredibly strong and it sent another flush of arousal through me at the thought of the beautifully sculpted physique under his clothes.

"Are you bulking up for Cap again?"

I mumbled the words in an attempt to keep my mind busy and stop myself before I started rubbing myself against his stomach. With the way my legs were positioned there was merely a shirt and my panties between us and it was entirely too tempting.

"Nah, got a month or two before that starts again," he informed me, quirking an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

I pointed him towards the door of my bedroom before answering as I tried to keep the shock out of my voice.

"So, you're like, always this strong?"

Chris chuckled slightly as he kicked my bedroom door open.

"Well, I'm no club promoter," he teased. "But I do tend to stay at a certain level of fitness for when the job does require it."

My jaw dropped at his audacity to bring that up again at a moment like this, but I couldn't stop the snort of laughter that slipped out.

"Shut up," I demanded, letting my thumb stroke against the soft skin on the back of his neck. "Before I come to my senses and ask you to leave."

Now it was Chris' turn to laugh as he gently tossed me onto the bed before crawling over me like a lion stalking it's prey.

"C'mon," he smirked as he hovered over me. "I think we both know that the last thing you want me to do right now is leave."

With that, he pressed his lips back against mine before I had chance to argue. Not that I would have, because he was absolutely right. There was a long list of things I wanted him to do, but leaving was not one of them. In fact, as I let my arms slid over his toned shoulders, I pulled him even closer.

I couldn't get enough of him. I wanted to hear every little grunt and moan, I wanted to feel every inch of his body against mine, I wanted to see his muscles quiver and twitch with pleasure, I wanted him inside me and we'd barely even started. A year of waiting would make anyone desperate and, as much as I was revelling in his talented mouth as it moved against my own, I was eager to see what else he could do with it.

Sliding my hands down along his back, I ran them over his waist until they were at the hem of his shirt and, in an attempt to move things along, I slid them back up over his stomach, bringing his shirt with them. I paused, taking a moment to trace over his abs and he chuckled, moving his lips down to nuzzle them into my neck.

"That tickles," he mumbled against my skin as I smiled.

"Sorry, I'm just trying to wrap my head around the fact that these muscles are real."

"They are," he smiled up at me. "Are you impressed?"

"Maybe a little," I admitted with a smile of my own. "I'll be more impressed if you get these clothes out of the way and let me admire you properly."

He chuckled again, but didn't fight as I pulled his shirt over his head. The light in the room was dim and the way we were positioned didn't give me an optimal view, but what I could see was enough to draw a soft gasp from my lips.

I'd seen him shirtless and in even less from a few sneaky Google searches and watching his old movies, but seeing it all right in front of me was quite a treat. I had to double check that I wasn't drooling at the sight as I openly stared, my mouth slightly agape.

I realized I was probably ogling him a little too long when a faint blush covered his cheeks and he ducked his head back against my neck. He placed another soft kiss against my skin before he spoke.

"Now, it's your turn."

"Okay," I agreed, swallowing hard. "But just keep in mind that I don't look like that."

I ran my hands up and down his sides to emphasize what I was referring to and I felt more than heard him chuckle as he peered up at me once more.

"I'd be disappointed if we had the same upper body," he teased. "I mean, if I'm being honest."

I rolled my eyes despite the smile on my face.

"You know what I mean," I insisted. "I'm not sculpted by the Gods like you are."

His head fell back against my shoulder as he shook with laughter before shaking his head.

"You have nothing to worry about," he assured me. "You're too hard on yourself. You're fuckin' gorgeous."

His words took me back to the first night we met as the sincerity in his voice was the same as it had been back then. And there was something about the confidence with which he spoke that had me believing him.

So, as his hands slid under my dress - teasing the outside of my thighs in a way that had me biting my lip to force back a moan - I pushed any negative thoughts or doubts about myself from my mind. I even felt a hint of pride when my dress was discarded, exposing my lack of bra, and making Chris' eyes darken as they scoured over my body.

"Fuck, Winnie," he groaned as he soaked in the sight of my exposed chest. "You're beautiful."

I felt my heart flutter at the genuine awe in his voice and at his word choice. Gorgeous, hot, sexy - those are all compliments I would have loved to receive from him, but beautiful. It seemed deeper, more romantic. There was a brief reminder from the voice in my head that perhaps the importance of such a simple word was a signal I shouldn't be moving forward with this without having a very serious conversation about feelings first, but I was quick to ignore it as I pulled Chris back to my lips.

It seemed he was as desperate to move things along as I was though as his mouth didn't linger against mine for very long before it was trailing a path down my neck. He paused when he got to my chest, letting out a groan as he nuzzled the skin before sucking it just hard enough to leave a faint mark when he moved back. The sight had me squirming beneath him and he shot me a smirk before moving his lips to my nipple.

Gasping at the sensation, I arched up towards him as he continued to nip and tease me. If his current actions were anything to go by then whoever wrote the article that I read was very sorely mistaken. He appeared to be incredibly talented with his mouth and by the time he moved away from my nipple to continue his path down my body, my chest was heaving and I was sure that I was just one gentle touch away from my peak.

However, I was disappointed when he got to the top of my panties and, after licking along the skin of my lower stomach, pushed himself up and moved off of me to stand at the foot of my bed. I whined in protest, wanting him as close to me as possible, but all I got was a smirk in response.

"Patience," he mumbled as he unbuttoned his jeans.

I wanted to pout, to argue that I'd been patient enough in the last year, but any complaints died on my tongue as he pushed his jeans to the floor. As he stood in front of me, only in his underwear, my sense of urgency was replaced by an appreciation for the chance to admire his chiselled body. I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better view and he chuckled at the look of wonder that I was sure was on my face.

His underwear was the next thing to go and the anticipation turned quickly to shock as my jaw dropped at what he revealed. I could have assumed from the large bulge that he was quite well-endowed, but seeing it confirmed sent a whole new flush of arousal through me. I mumbled out a 'wow' as I bit my lip and tried to take it all in - he truly was a gorgeous man.

"Like what you see?"

His question snapped me out of my daze as he knelt back down on the end of the bed.

"Very much so," I nodded, desperate to feel his body over mine once again. "Come back up here."

"No," Chris grinned as he ducked down to place a kiss on my ankle. "Not yet."

Again, part of me wanted to argue and demand that he return his mouth to mine and get things moving, but before I could even open my mouth, he made his intentions clear - by tracing his fingers up my leg with his lips close behind.

I was quivering under his touch, still leaning up on my elbows when he reached the edge of the panties I was wearing. He glanced up at me as he licked along the lace before he bit into the material and tugged. I lifted my hips to ease his struggle as he yanked my panties down my legs with his teeth. The sight of it had me squeezing my thighs together, desperate for any kind of friction, but as soon as my underwear joined the rest of our clothes on the floor, he was quick to pull my legs apart again.

"Keep 'em open for me," he demanded, that damn smirk still firmly on his face. "I've got something to prove."

I giggled at that statement, but did as he asked. I was still watching his movements, until he dipped his head forehead and pressed his lips against me. That first moment of contact was enough to have my head flopping back against the pillows as my hands shot down to grip his hair. I was vaguely aware of him mumbling something about how wet I was, but my brain was too busy trying to process the pleasure he was giving me to take in his words.

He wasted no time demonstrating everything that he'd described to me earlier that night. His tongue was focused and precise in its movements and, contrary to what I read, he clearly knew what he was doing as he easily narrowed in on my clit. It wasn't enough though. I needed more pressure, more friction, and I pushed up towards him with a moan on my lips to urge him on. He wasn't having any of that as his hands looped under my thighs to settle on my hips, holding me in place, but he increased the pressure as he apparently understood what I needed despite my lack of ability to verbalize it.

I immediately felt a familiar feeling starting to build.

He sucked and licked with an urgency that I very much appreciated, flicking his tongue in just the right spot at just the right speed to have me trembling beneath him. I managed to gasp out a warning 'oh god' as my hands gripped his hair even tighter and I fell apart into a puddle of whimpers and moans. My orgasm hit me more fiercely than I'd imagined in my wildest fantasies of this moment and I arched up against him, his name pouring from my lips like a chant as he continued his efforts with a low groan of his own only adding to my pleasure.

As my breathing started to slow, Chris gently ceased his movements and moved his head back before resting his chin on my thigh. He cocked an eyebrow as he looked up at me.

"Well?"

"I'm going to write my own article," I told him, feeling that wonderful post peak bliss wash over me. "Because someone was obviously very misinformed."

Chris chuckled before pulling his hands from my hips to plant them on the bed and drag himself back over me.

"I'm glad I exceeded expectations."

"Mhmm," I hummed in agreement as his lips hovered above mine. "Now, let's see what else you can do."

Chris flashed me a smile and kissed me briefly before leaning back just enough to reach down and take his cock in his hand. Another moan fell from my lips as he rubbed it against me for a moment before nudging against my entrance and finally pressing inside. He moved slowly, but even so, I winced at the sensation. The slight burn as I stretched around him felt good but there was an undeniable ache as well. Sensing my hesitation, Chris paused and dropped his head for another soft kiss. I waited a moment, until the initial spark of discomfort had passed before pressing my hips up towards him.

He took the hint and continued his slow, almost torturous, movement until he was fully inside. The burning pain returned as it felt like he was taking up every inch of space I had to offer, but it felt incredible.

"Fuck," he breathed against my neck where his head had settled again. "You're tight..."

He shifted his hips pulling another gasp from my lips.

"Only because you're huge."

I felt a puff of laughter before he nipped at my shoulder.

"Thank you."

I would have smacked him for his cocky tone, but he moved then and suddenly my mind was blank of anything other than how good it felt. His movements were slow at first, every thrust dragging every inch of him against every nerve inside me, but his restraint quickly waned as his pace increased.

I let out a moan as my head fell back against the pillows and I hitched my leg higher on his hip. He moved his hand to the back of my thigh to hold it in place as he built a steady rhythm that had us both panting as I fought to match his thrusts. My fingers dug into his shoulders as his short beard rubbed against my skin.

The sensations were overwhelming. It was like he was completely encompassing me, smothering all of my senses and I could feel the pressure building again in the pit of my stomach in a way that it all felt like too much, but not enough all at the same time. I clenched around him, earning a groan of approval from Chris as I swore I could feel him twitch inside me. The pleasure was building quickly and his thrusts got sloppier and more frantic until suddenly he pulled out of me completely.

I felt empty and immediately wanted him back inside of me, my disappointment only growing as he pushed himself up to kneel back on his heels. The only compensation was how good he looked, muscles tight and his cock hard, practically throbbing and shiny from my being drenched in my wetness.

"Turn over," he instructed, his raspy voice bringing me back to the task at hand.

It took a moment for me to process his words, but I giggled as soon as I did.

"What?" He asked, a smile on his face.

"Nothing," I laughed again as I pushed myself up to do as he asked. "You just really are 'clearly' an ass man."

A look of realization crossed his face as he cringed slightly, his hand pausing from where he had reached down to stroke himself. I settled on my knees with my back to him as he answered.

"You heard about that?"

He was referring to the comments that he made on Anna Faris' podcast and I nodded my head.

"Everyone heard about that," I teased.

He chuckled, but didn't deny it as I leaned forward to rest on my hands. The wetness between my legs felt cool from the air in the room and I suddenly felt very exposed, knowing what the view must look like from his position. Again, my worries were brief though as his hands settled on my ass, kneading and squeezing as he let out a low groan.

"With an ass like this though, can you blame me?" He asked, sliding the fingers of one hand down towards the part of me that was practically throbbing with need. My head fell forward as he gently brushed over my clit before sinking two fingers inside me. It wasn't enough, not after the stretch of his cock, but he moved them with almost criminal precision against a spot that made me tense as I moaned with pleasure. "You've been drivin' me wild ever since that night we met. Those black jeans were so tight, it was like you were poured into 'em."

His words were muttered low and quiet and as much as I appreciated the compliment, I was such a puddle of mush from the movement of his fingers that I couldn't string together a sentence in response. He kept talking, whispering words of encouragement and adoration and it only added to my pleasure, but it wasn't until his thumb pressed against my clit that I felt myself start to bubble over. With a cry that I hoped served as a warning of my impending climax, I arched my back to press myself further towards him.

"Atta girl, Winnie..."

His breath was hot against the cheek of my ass and he continued his actions, placing a soft kiss on my skin. I was close, so close, but just not quite there until he did something that surprised me and sank his teeth into the spot his mouth was resting on. It wasn't enough to break the skin, but it was enough to leave a mark and it was definitely enough to send me over the edge. Moaning out his name again as I pressed back towards him, I felt myself quivering around his fingers as the pleasure tore through my body.

My elbows were quaking with effort as they tried to hold me up while he kept his fingers gently working until my orgasm came to an end. I wasn't sure how much more I could take, but I knew I wanted him inside me again so I shot him a look over my shoulder.

"Chris," I panted. "Fuck me, please."

His eyes darkened at my request, but he wasted no time, quickly shifting until he was positioned behind me and sliding himself back inside. He felt even bigger in our new position and his need was made clear as his hands settled on my hips to use them as leverage, thrusting into me at a much more frantic pace than he had before.

The stretch and feel of him deep inside me had me moaning and arching my back once again, but I was doubtful that I would reach another peak - until Chris slid one of his hands from my hip, over my stomach and back down to my clit. The sensation combined with his movements and all the noises pouring from his mouth had a tightness in my stomach forming again with shocking speed. It was just shy of overwhelming as my two previous orgasms had left me feeling rather sensitive already, but when Chris picked up the pace even more, his grunts and groans getting more desperate, I leaned into the sensation. It only took a minute or two more before he finally pressed himself deep inside me, stilling as he let out a low moan and I followed him over the edge once more.

After a few final thrusts through his release, Chris leaned forward to press his chest against my back. I could feel how hard he was breathing and soaked in the moment of bliss until my arms finally gave out underneath me. We landed in a heap face down on the bed, but Chris quickly rolled off of me before pulling me tight against his side.

"Wow," he breathed out. "Winnie, that was...wow."

I smiled as I rested my head on his chest.

"It was," I agreed. "I take back any doubts about your abilities."

He chuckled and placed a soft kiss on the top of my head.

"Thanks," he smiled as I peered up at him until he let a yawn slip out. "Mind if I stay here tonight?"

His question made my own smile widen even more.

"Of course not!"

He breathed out a sigh of relief at my words as I felt a wave of reassurance myself. He wanted to stay. He wasn't about to rush out the door the moment we were done and I filed that information away as more evidence that we were on the same page.

I felt like I should get up - to use the bathroom and offer my guest some water - but our activities had my whole body feeling like jelly. I was vaguely aware of a mumbled 'goodnight' from Chris, but I found myself drifting off to sleep before I could even respond.

-

The next morning as I slowly woke up, it took me a moment to remember why I was naked and why there was a pleasant, but very noticeable ache between my thighs. As the memory came back to me, a smile slid onto my face, but when I rolled over to find the bed empty, a flicker of worry sparked in the pit of my stomach. Especially when a glance at the clock told me that it was only seven in the morning. We couldn't have fallen asleep much before one so there was no good reason for him to be out of bed already.

I called out his name, hopeful that he would respond, but I wasn't entirely surprised when he didn't. The dread I was feeling intensified at the silence around me and I dragged myself out of bed with the intention of checking if he was in the bathroom or perhaps back out on the balcony. However, the sight of what was on the floor, or more accurately what wasn’t on the floor, made me pause. My dress and panties were laying where they'd been tossed, but his clothes were no where to be seen.

Trying to keep a level head, I quickly pulled on the oversized shirt that I usually slept in and ventured out of my bedroom, but my fears were quickly confirmed. My apartment was empty.

At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt as I desperately tried to rationalize his disappearance. Maybe he woke up early and went out to get us breakfast and coffee? The dull throbbing in my head told me that I could certainly use a good shot of caffeine and it was a pretty safe bet that he was feeling the same. But, when he didn't return after half an hour, I assumed that theory was just an optimistic wish.

After forty-five minutes of sitting on my couch, watching the door - willing it to open and for Chris to appear - I sent him a text. I tried to keep it low key and chill, but after another hour of staring at my phone, the words "Hey, where'd you go?" started to seem more and more desperate.

By ten o'clock with no response and no sign of Chris returning, I accepted the situation for what it was.

He wasn't coming back.

It was a drunken mistake that he clearly regretted.

We'd risked our entire relationship for one night of wonderful, incredible, but meaningless sex and he didn't even have the guts to stick around long enough to talk to me about it.

One stupid night and I'd lost one of my best friends.

The thought brought tears to my eyes and, before I could stop myself, I was blubbering like a baby as I curled up on my couch. I was devastated and heartbroken. I'd let myself believe that maybe he wanted me the same way that I wanted him because we were so close and I never would have imagined that he would let it go that far just to ditch me in the morning without even a goodbye. Surely, after a year of such strong friendship, I deserved more than that.

But no matter how stupid and naive I felt in that moment, nothing would compare to the level of utter foolishness I felt later that day when I was tiding up and realized that there wasn't a condom in sight.

-

Part Two

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fic #chris evans one shot #once bitten/more hearts

[cjsinkythoughts]

FATWS One Shot #7 - Revels

Word Count: 2921

Warnings: Cursing, That’s All, it’s a Really Tame One Shot

Setting/Characters: Party Scene in Avengers: Age of Ultron; Lots of Characters so I’m Not Gonna Name Them All

A/N: I know…it’s very late. I wanted to have it out on Friday, but I dunno, guys. My motivation as of late has been very low. I finally decided to just sit down and write tonight. So here it finally is!

This one is pretty mild compared to others. There’s a few feeling things in here, but it’s mainly just the reader hanging out with the team. The ending’s written a bit weird, but I didn’t know what to cut it off because the writers did a nice job of making the Mjolnir scene flow into the scene with Ultron’s appearance, but I didn’t want to write the whole fight with Ultron, I just wanted the lifting scene.

Listen here, though! Prepare yourselves to be conflicted even more with Steve! I made it a lot more…touchy than I was planning on. Don’t come at me! It needs to be done! This’ll be one of the last ones focused on Steve like that though. The next one is reader and Wanda bonding and then after that I don’t have any more planned for AoU, so we’ll be going to Civil War, which is where reader meets Bucky officially. So Bucky’s coming soon!

I’m gonna update my WIP List and - maybe - my One Shot list and post those later, along with a poll because I dunno which series I wanna start on next.

Thank you all so much for your patience, understanding, and support! As always, not beta’d, so please excuse the mistakes, all are mine! Be kind to yourselves and others! Enjoy and stay tuned!

FATWS Series Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

*******

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

You set your bag down and looked at your phone, vibrating from where you just left it on the counter. You looked at the time and squinted. Seven. You supposed it wasn’t too late, but you weren’t expecting any calls. 

Tired, your feet dragged as you moved across the room to get your phone. You were helping Fury set up the Helicarrier again while still remaining “dead” to everyone. It was the last thing you were doing before joining the Avengers full time. You were a bit hesitant to be in the spotlight after all these years, but after much pressuring from your team, especially a certain blonde, you finally caved. It was time for a change anyways. It might even be good for you.

Speaking of blondes, Bubba flashed across your screen, a picture of him with some scruff that you took one day in spite of his protests because you’d never seen him with a beard before lighting up behind the contact name.

You answered it, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your hands as you did so. “Hi, bubs. What’s-”

“Where are you? I miss you. Are you coming soon?”

You chuckled at his whines, an eyebrow raising as you processed his words. “Whaddya mean? I’m at my place. Where am I supposed to be?”

“Honey!” You giggled at his groan, finding it amusing how childish he could be at times. “The party? Tonight? Remember? You promised you’d come. I don’t wanna be here without you.”

“Oh shit,” you hiss out. “That’s tonight?” Moving across the kitchen to check your calendar, you scrunch up your face when you see ‘Avenger’s Tower 6 pm’ written in the square. “It’s Saturday. Aw, Stevie. I totally forgot.”

“Oh. So…are you - are you not coming, then?”

Frowning at his fallen tone, you shake your head. “I’ll be there. Just…give me a bit.”

“No, no. It’s okay. You sound tired. You don’t have to-”

“I’m on my way, Steve. I did promise after all. I’m an hour out.”

You could hear his surprise in his voice. “An hour? You’re not in D.C.?”

“I’m a little bit upstate. Just in a safehouse while I help Fury work on something.”

He let out a contemplative hum from the other side of the line. “That secret project you still won’t tell me anything about?”

A smile appeared across your lips as you walked to the bedroom to change into something a little more appropriate, settling for a comfortable romper instead of dealing with a dress. “You know I can’t, bubs. You haven’t told anyone, right?”

“No ma’am.”

You giggle softly. “Alright. Thank you. You’ll find out soon, probably. It’s almost done. Promise.”

“Then you’ll come live here? With me - the team, I mean? I miss you. The team missed you. On the raid.”

“Oh yeah. How was it?”

“Get here and I’ll tell you.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m coming, I’m coming. See you then, bubba.”

“Okay, honey. See ya then.”

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

It was nearly nine when you got to the Tower, but any party thrown by Stark didn’t end until at least ten, so you knew you were fine. Just…fashionably late. A concept you knew Tony understood and you wouldn’t hesitate to remind him if he brought it up.

You were pleasantly surprised by how tame the party was. Sure there were a hundred people you doubted even Tony knew, but no flashing lights, the music wasn’t blaring, and no one was grinding on anyone. Everyone was just talking, drinking, and having a good time.

“Hey! There you are! Capsicle said he called you, but that was hours ago!”

Speak of the devil. You grinned and let Tony pull you into a hug before taking the drink he offered. “Yeah, well, I had a few things to do today.”

His eyebrow quirked up. “A few things, huh? Anything I should know about?”

“Nope!” You popped your lips and gave him a smirk. “Not everything’s about you, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah, well, we missed you this week. Fun raid.” He looked you up and down and nodded, gesturing to your outfit. “Alright, you know what? I accept this. This is okay. Not what I had in mind, but you pull it off.”

You laughed, shoving his shoulder playfully. “It’s comfortable, okay? Where’s Steve?”

The billionaire rolled his eyes and gave you a look. “Don’t worry your pretty little head. He’s over playing pool with Wilson. C’mon! I wanna get you drunk and complain about my perfect, heroic, billionaire life to my favorite teammate!”

“I just need to tell him I’m here.” You snicker. “And don’t let anyone here you say that. I don’t want my rep to become Tony’s favorite.”

He chuckled with you and gave you another squeeze. “Alright, alright. Come find me later, though. I do have something I need to show you.”

You shook your head, already knowing where the conversation was heading. “Tony! No! I don’t need a suit! Thank you, I appreciate it, but I’m really okay. I like fighting in sweatpants.”

“Fine!” He huffed out. “But at least let me show you some designs I came up with. I put a lot of hard work into them, you know.”

Tapping his chest, you nodded. “I’m sure you did. I’ll come find you and you can show me, but that’s it.”

He smirked, drawing an ‘x’ over his heart with his finger. “Cross my heart.”

“I’m serious, Tony!” You point at him as he started walking away. He just blew a kiss towards you, making you laugh and roll your eyes again.

Turning, you scanned the room for the pool table where, supposedly, Steve was playing with Sam, who you had no idea was gonna be here. You’d been helping him out with the whole James - Bucky, you reminded yourself - Barnes thing during your free time. No such luck yet. The man was literally a ghost, even for you.

You couldn’t stop the smile on your lips when you finally caught sight of him, his brown leather jacket hugging his shoulders a grin on his face as Sam talked to him about something. Quickly making your way over, your arms wrapped around that ridiculously tiny waist, crossing over his stomach. You felt him tense at the sudden contact, before he relaxed at a kiss to the nape of his neck and spun around.

The beam he gave you made your heart flip, his muscled arms winding around your neck. “Y/N! You made it!”

His boyish excitement made you laugh. “I told you I’d come. Hi, Sam.”

Sam nodded and waved. “What’s good, Y/N?”

“Who’s winning?” Slipping out of Steve’s hold, you leaned over the table to study the games process.

“We just started a new one.” Steve informed you. “Wanna join?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You sure you wanna be embarrassed in front of all these nice people?”

“Oooh!” Sam winced. “Smack! Alright. Put your money where your mouth is, Y/L/N. Ten bucks says I win.”

“You’re on, Wilson.”

A few more drinks, a couple games, and thirty extra bucks later, Tony called you over impatiently. Steve gave you a questioning look as you heated up, Tony waving his arms dramatically and shouting your name. God, he’s so embarrassing.

“He wants me to look at suit designs.”

Steve frowned at your explanation. “I thought you told him no?”

You chuckled. “I did. I’ll be right back, bubs.” After kissing his cheek, you head over to Tony. From there, you end up bouncing around from teammate to teammate, laughing and joking around with them.

Until Steve dragged you back with him again. “Excuse me.” He interrupted you, Clint, and Natasha’s chatter, grabbing your elbow and taking the drink you had in your hand. “I’m stealing you.”

“C’mon, man! It’s called sharing!”

Natasha laughed and nodded in agreement with Clint’s statement. “Everyone’s gotta have a turn, Rogers.”

Steve hummed, walking backwards and pulling you as you giggled in amusement. “You just had your turn, Romanoff.”

“Sorry guys.” You shrugged when the two looked at you incredulously. “Captain’s orders.”

“Damn right.” Steve nodded firmly.

“Watch your language!” Clint shouted with a pointed finger.

You raised an amused eyebrow at Steve’s groan. “Your language? They do know that you have, quite possibly, the worst mouth on the planet, right?”

He sighed, pulling you to the side of the room and wrapping his arms around your waist. “It’s something that happened on the mission. Which you would know if you were there.”

“Steven.”

He blinked innocently at you. “What?” At your pointed look, he let out a sigh, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. “Did I do something wrong? Is that why you’re avoiding me?”

“Who said I’m avoiding you?”

“C’mon, honey.” He lifted his head, his eyebrows furrowed together. “Don’t hurt me even more. I know you have.”

You shook your head, lips turning down and hand raising to cup his cheek. “Stevie, I’m not. I promise. I’ve just…I’ve just been busy.”

He pouted. “With Fury?”

Giving him a weird look you shook your head. “No. I mean, yes, but I’ve also been helping Sam out with your friend while you help the team with the rest of the HYDRA bases. You know that. What’s going on with you?”

“I’m sorry.” He sighed, ducking his head to your shoulder again. “I’ve just missed you.”

“I know, bubba. I’ve missed you too.”

The real truth was you had been avoiding him. Not on purpose. Kinda. You just felt something different around him. Something you’d never dealt with before. And you didn’t want to deal with it now, so you haven’t been. It was why you were so hesitant about becoming a full time Avenger. Well, that and the fact that you’d been in the shadows for a decade and you weren’t sure how well you’d do in the light.

“Where’s Sam?”

“He had to head home. Long drive. His excuse, not mine.”

You gasped in offense. “And he didn’t even say bye?! Rude!”

Steve chuckled, his nose brushing against the skin of your throat, breath tickling your collarbone. “I’m sure he’ll call you in the morning or something. Apologize for leaving so abruptly.”

You hummed, swallowing the lump that suddenly appeared in your throat. “Tell me about the language thing. What happened?”

He groaned, but straightened and told you about him accidentally scolding Tony, before he proceeded to tell you about the rest of the mission, including the Maximoff twins. 

“Why is it that war always seems to breed more war?” You asked with a sigh.

“They’re just kids trying to do what’s right.”

“We all start out that way, don’t we?” You shook your head. Kids. they shouldn’t be fighting in a war. They shouldn’t have to deal with that. “It’s just a shame.” Your voice is muffled by his shirt after you pressed against his chest.

“Yeah.” He sighed out. “Wanna go get a drink?”

Pulling back from him and looking around, you noted that most guests had already gone and it was dwindling down to just the Avengers and a couple allies. “Yeah. Wanna sit down too. I’m kinda tired.”

“Alright, honey. Let’s go sit down.”

It wasn’t even half an hour later when you were all sitting around the middle of the room, everyone else having gone, but Dr. Helen Cho, Rhodey, Maria, and the team. You were in the same boat as Helen, who was basically passed out on an armchair. You’re legs thrown over Steve’s lap, stretched out to let your feet rest on Thor’s thigh, who was on the chair on the other side of the captain. You were hugging Steve’s arm, your head resting against his shoulder, a small smile of content across your features as you listened to the team banter and tease.

You started laughing at Clint’s comments towards Thor’s hammer while spinning the drumstick he had for whatever reason. “Ah, whosoever be he worthy shall haveth the power! Whatever, man! It’s a trick!”

You and Steve exchanged amused grins as Thor challenged Clint, who stood up with no hesitation and headed to the hammer.

“This is gonna be good.” You chirped, taking the bottle Steve handed you as the archer stopped in front of where it was placed on the table.

Clint stuck his tongue out at you, before turning back to Thor and gripping the handle. He tugged for a moment, grunting, before laughing in slight embarrassment. Chuckling, you snuggled closer to Steve’s side, your eyes feeling heavy. He turned his head to nose your temple and kiss your cheek.

“Oh brother.” You giggled, sitting up with interest as Tony stood up and unbuttoned his suit jacket.

“Alright, so if I lift it, I-I then rule Asgard?” Tony asked in clarification, slipping his hand through the strap.

“Yes, of course.” Thor confirmed with an amused smirk, shooting you a wink when you nudged his knee with your foot.

Tony braced himself, setting his foot on the table. “I will be reinstituting prima nocta.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Oh God, Tony.” Steve squeezed your knee with a slight chuckle as the billionaire tried lifting it to no avail. You gave him a weird look, watching him leave the room, before turning to Steve. “What’s he-?”

“Alright! Let’s try this again!”

Another fit of laughter left you and the team when Tony strutted back in with his Iron Man glove on. And when that didn’t work, Rhodey joined him with his War Machine glove. 

Your eyes were watering and you tried holding in your laughter, but you couldn’t help it, pressing your face into Steve’s arm to muffle the sounds. You felt his shoulders shake with silent chuckles, which didn’t help your own.

When Bruce went up, an awkward silence filled the air after he tried Hulking out, but then you started laughing again.

“Your turn, bubba.” You nudged the blonde, who gave you a look, before shrugging and patting your thigh. 

“You gotta get off then, honey.”

You rolled your eyes but swung your legs off him, letting him stand up. He rolled his sleeves up, stepping up to Mjolnir, a few encouragements from the team, before pulling on the hammer. You thought you saw it shake a little, but Steve yanked some more and it didn’t move, so you figured you were imagining it.

Steve sighed and let go, putting his hands up in surrender with a grin like the good sport he was. Thor laughed. “Nothing.”

You shrugged at the super soldier who plopped back down besides you as the others tried getting Natasha to go up. “You tried.” 

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms and leaning back. “Well if Romanoff isn’t going…your turn.”

“Wh-what?” Your eyes went wide.

“I did it.” He gestured to the hammer. “Now you gotta.”

“Hold on, hold on. We didn’t agree on th-”

“Honey.” He gave you a little pout, cocking his head to the hammer. “C’mon. Just a tug.”

You narrowed your eyes, but your lips turned up and you straightened off the couch. “This is peer pressure. Captain America, everyone.” He chuckled as you stepped over to Mjolnir. “It’s not gonna work.”

Tony snorted. “Not with that attitude.”

“C’mon, Tones. If none of you could.”

The billionaire shrugged with a grin. “Never know if you don’t try.”

You deadpanned at him, gripping the handle and trying, in vain, to pull it. You didn’t put nearly as much effort as everyone else. “Wow. Look at that. What a surprise.”

“What was that?! You barely touched it!”

Giving a shrug, you started back to your seat. “I’m guessing if you’re worthy or whatever, it wouldn’t take that much to lift it.” You fell onto the couch, your head landing in Steve’s lap as you looked upside down at Thor and pointed at him. “But I do have a question for you.” The god looked at you in interest, gesturing for you to continue. “What does worthy mean? Like, what makes a person worthy to lift it? You couldn’t lift it a while back - I know, I read the files. SHIELD agent, remember?” You added when you saw him open his mouth to question you.

You blinked at him curiously, tilting your head, watching as his brow furrowed. Tony cackled and clapped at the silence in answer. “Oooh! She got you! All difference to the Man Who Wouldn’t Be King, but it’s rigged. And the lack of response to Y/N’s question just makes it more obvious.”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“You bet your ass.”

You rolled your eyes, letting it go as Maria teased Steve about Clint’s foul language. “Did you tell everyone about that?” Tony ignored Steve’s question and continued to ride on Thor and his hammer.

“Why are they trying to make sense of it?” You questioned, highly entertained, but also very tired, turning to press against Steve’s stomach.

“It’s Tony. I couldn’t tell you. C’mere.” Steve shifted you so that you were sitting up, but he was holding you more comfortably. “Try getting some sleep.”

You hummed and nodded against him, but a high pitched whine made you wince and stand up, Steve unconsciously standing a bit in front of you. A suit of Tony’s, damaged with wires hanging down and oil leaking out or places that didn’t have metal keeping them in, came in and you inwardly sighed at the bad feeling tugging at your gut.

So much for sleep.

***********

***********

***********

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[wolfstcr]

unexpected confessions | luke patterson

pairing: luke patterson x fem!reader

summary: you and luke never got along, but a fight at flynn’s party could lead to some unexpected events.

warning: swearing.

Their friends couldn't stand all the bickering anymore.

During her whole life, Y/N only had one mantra: treat everyone with kindness. Being gentle and caring was never a problem. But there was only one person in the entire world who could piss her the hell of and automatically turn all the kindness stuff into pure anger: Luke Patterson. However, there was something about him that would always make her heart skip a beat.

For whatever reason it was, Luke and Y/N could never get along. And to make things worse, being in the same friend group didn't exactly help. Julie, Flynn, Alex and Reggie would spend half of their time together trying to make both of them stop the childish arguing.

It wasnt't until a party at Flynn's that things would drastically change.

"Can i borrow one of your dresses?" Y/N asked Flynn who shot her a glare.

"Not tonight! Today you'll be definetely wearing that red dress i gave you on your birthday."

"Don't you think that dress is a little... too much for tonight?" Y/N asked uncertain.

"Absolutely not, we gotta be looking amazing. I didn't hire a photoboot for nothing."

"Fine. Just for tonight." Y/N said and Flynn smiled as if she knew that wouldn't be the last time she would convince her friend to wear the dress.

"We gotta be ready at 9 p.m." Flynn said for what it looked like the tenth time that day. Y/N was laying on Julie's bed while Julie was somewhere inside her closet trying to find something to wear that night.

"Have you told the boys yet?" Julie asked leaving the closet and sitting on the edge of the bed besides Y/N.

"Not yet. Where are they?"

"Downstairs. Go tell them, i'll be there in a few minutes." Julie told the two girls.

"C'mon, Y/N. I'll go grab some snacks, you can wait with the boys." Flynn said and Y/N nodded, heading to the studio.

"Hey, Y/N/N" Reggie greeted interrupting whatever Luke was talking to him and Alex about.

"Hey, guys, what's up?" She said making her way to the armchair where she usually sits, which turns out to be exactly where Luke was. "Scoot". He rolled his eyes before looking at her.

"Um... no. I was here first." He replied with a sarcastic smile moving to get more comfortable on the armchair and it was her turn to roll eyes.

"What are you, five? I'm not sitting on the floor. This is my armchair, you know that." She made a little effort to say the next words. "Please, Patterson. Scoot!". He scoffed and went back to the conversation, completely ignoring her. She scoffed back and pushed him to the floor sitting on his previously spot with a mischievous smile.

"What the hell?!" Luke yelled getting up from the floor. At this point Alex and Reggie were watching the whole scene as if it was - and it was - their daily entertainment.

"Two can play the childish game." Y/N calmly said.

"Oh, you're right!" He said making the girl furrow her eyebrows before sitting by her side in the armchair, squeezing their bodies together. He intended to get her annoyed at first, but the proximity between the both of them only drawed a rosy blush to Y/N's cheeks and made her heart beat a little faster. It took Luke a few seconds to realize their closeness making his cheeks flush red too. He stood up and awkwardly cleared his throat looking over at the other boys who were amused and trying to hold back their laughs.

"Guys, the party is at 9 p.m., don't be late." Flynn warned as she entered the garage. "Y/N/N, Julie and i decided to go get ready at my house, are you coming?"

"Of course. C'mon." She said getting up and following Flynn. "See you later, boys" she sent Alex and Reggie a smile who returned it and waved for her.

"That was fun." Alex teased Luke when Y/N left the studio.

"Shut it." Patterson hissed and sent his friend a glare before grabbing the guitar.

[...]

"Wow! You're... wow!" Julie said to Y/N who was staring at the mirror for the past minute. She was wearing the red dress that Flynn got her on her last birthday and a pair of black heels. For the first time in a while she felt incredibly confident - the smile on her face making her even prettier.

"Look who's talking! You look amazing!" she said and Julie's grin became wider.

"C'mon, Flynn is at the living room talking to some friends. Let's go" Julie said linking their arms and going downstairs. The boys hasn't showed up yet. After a few minutes of greetings and taking pictures, the girls finally went to dance, laughing and showing each other their moves.

When Luke walked in with Alex and Reggie the first thing he saw was Y/N. She was looking amazing. Thinking about how pretty she is was definitely something against the rules of their 'hating each other game', but he couldn't help it, not that night. Y/N was moving so perfectly and confidently it made him smile and get a little distracted. The other boys were talking about something but all he could focused on was her.

"Dude, are you even listening what i'm saying?" Alex asked and Luke snapped out of it.

"Sorry, what?" Luke turned his look back to his friends.

"What were you looking at?" Reggie asked trying to follow the direction Luke was staring at a few seconds ago.

"Nothing?" He answered way too fast making Alex raise his eyebrows suspiciously.

"Ok..."

[...]

Later that night everyone went to the yard and started to talk and play random old school games. Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn't staring at Luke for at least half of the party. Julie and Flynn were trying to guess what was getting Y/N so distracted.

"It's nothing!" Y/N retorted.

"Is it a person?" Flynn asked making her friend roll her eyes ignoring the rest of the questions. Luke, Reggie and Alex showed up in the following moment with food.

"Hey, girls. Flynn, could we get some drinks from your dad's cabinet?" Reggie asked.

"No drinks today, Reggie, you know Ray trusted us." Y/N warned and Reggie groaned before nodding. Luke mumbled something she couldn't understand. "What was that, Patterson?"

"I said" he started "of course you would say that, Y/L/N, you don't know how to have fun". Y/N scoffed taking a step closer to him.

"Not again..." Julie and Alex said in unison while Flynn rolled her eyes at the childishness of her friends. Reggie started to eat while watching the scene.

"Let me tell you something, Mr. I Wanna Be Rebel. Not everyone's 'fun' is related to alcohol!" She yelled as she just had enough of him.

"Oh, yeah?" He yelled back and took a step closer, leaving their faces only a few inches apart. "What's your idea of fun then?"

"This." Y/N said grabbing Luke's face and pressing their lips together in a passionate kiss. His eyes widened for a second but he closed them as soon as he realized that was really happening. The boy wrapped his arms around her waist and they kissed for a few more seconds before pulling apart with red cheeks and shy smiles on their faces.

"I didn't know you had feelings for me too, Y/N/N" Luke said putting a lock of hair behind her ear. "I mean, judging by this... you do, right?"

“I sure do. I mean, that was kinda the whole point of the kiss, i thougth you would get it.” she joked and he giggled.

"Good. I couldn't stand arguing with you for no reason anymore." Luke admitted and Y/N chuckled, playfully rolling her eyes. "You're beautiful, you know?" he said and she smiled with flushed cheeks.

"You're sweet. And handsome" Y/N said pecking his lips. It took them a few seconds to realize that their friends were watching the entire scene with dropped jaws and wide eyes.

"I'm sorry, did i miss something? Like... a whole life?" Alex asked while looking at Y/N and Luke who were still smiling and holding hands.

"Did they just... admitted they like each other?" Julie asked shocked as Flynn watched them with a knowing look.

"I always knew..." Flynn sang out with a smirk.

"Does that mean Y/N is our mommy now?" Reggie quietly whispered to Alex.

"For the last time, Reggie, Luke is not our dad." Alex retorted while rolling his eyes.

"I could easily get use to it" Luke told her ignoring his friends again. "Would you like to go on a date with me, Y/L/N?"

"I'm glad you asked, Patterson. I think that wouldn't be terrible." she joked and he pecked her lips one more time. Julie and Flynn smirked as Reggie and Alex smiled, still shocked, but happy for their friends.

"Oh, and by the way..." Luke started, grabbing her hand and bringing his mouth close to her ear. "I liked your idea of fun".

masterlist

#luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson x reader #luke x reader #jatp one shot #luke patterson oneshot #julie and the phantoms #luke patterson fanfiction #reggie peters x reader #reggie jatp x reader #jatp fanfiction #jatp imagines #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x fem!reader #charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gilespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie oneshot

[gotnofucks]

Master of His Own Fate-2

Pairing: dark!Steve x Reader, dark!Bucky x Reader

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, smut, jealousy, spanking, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Probably gonna be a four-part series.

Part 1

MASTERLIST

+++++

Why did it feel like everyone had to do their shopping exactly when you had to? You’d bet it was not this crowed earlier. Or maybe it had something to do with the two super-soldiers flanking you that drew people in. You should have just ordered stuff online since this was super embarrassing. Steve’s hand was in the back pocket of your jeans and Bucky was on your other side, pushing the shopping cart with one hand while holding your waist with other. You’re sure you must have made quite a picture, a little woman sandwiched between them.

“Can you remove your hand?” You asked Steve under your breath and he looked away from the cereals he was perusing to glance at you.

“No” He answered and then pinched your ass for good measure. You jumped, your face flushing and you vowed to look at the floor until you left. You had no desire to see what other people thought about you.

“Why are they so colourful? Why can’t it be simple? There are too many!” Bucky exclaimed and you almost snorted. The cereal aisle was like wonderland for Bucky and you’d been walking back and forth here for 10 minutes now.

“I’m gonna go with this” Steve said throwing in a pack of Cap’n Crunch and you rolled your eyes.

“Then maybe Bucky can get Frosted Flakes and we can leave?” You suggested. Steve chuckled, leaning down to press an affectionate kiss on your head while Bucky took your advice and got Frosted Flakes.

“I’m gonna eat them off of you” He muttered in your ear and you bit your lip, flushing dark. You let them lead you around the store, checking off items off their list. It was so domestic you felt sick. This was not normal, and you unconsciously kept scratching your soulmark hidden under a wristband. You tried not to look at it if at all possible.

Bucky had stopped in front of the shelves containing condoms and quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Chocolate or strawberry?” He asked with a sinful grin and you wiggled until free of their holds. You had to bear their presence at home anyway, anymore and you’ll be smothered.

“We’ve forgotten the cheese dips. I’ll go get some while you finish here.” You said and turned away before they could say anything. You heard them chuckling softly behind you and willed your tears of frustration away.

Your life had changed drastically in the past few months since the night Steve and Bucky marked you as theirs. Try as you might, you couldn’t escape them, not when they are two of the most powerful and influential people in the world. You lived with them in their apartment at the compound now, and to say life was hell would be an understatement. Steve and Bucky have separate rooms but most nights you’re sandwiched between them in one bed since neither wants to spend a night away. You’d had more sex in these few months than people probably did in years.

You veered left into the sauces and spreads aisle, absentmindedly looking at the display. It wouldn’t matter what flavor you got, it would end up spread all over you and licked by your two lovers. You randomly took a jar off the shelf and were about to go back when you bumped into someone standing behind you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You apologized to the man behind you. His hand took hold of your elbow for a second to steady you before he stepped away and shook his head.

“It’s alright miss, not a problem.” He said with a small smile. You got a look at his face and your heart skipped a beat. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and dark hair, his genuine smile framed by a well-groomed beard. You saw his eyes dart to the jar in your hand and his lips twitched in amusement.

“I’d advise against this” He said pointing to the jar and you looked down at your hands in confusion. “While one may handle blue cheese, you don’t want to try its dip.”

You winced once you realized what you had picked and the man behind you laughed a little as he saw you put it back.

“What will you suggest?” You asked him. This was probably the only normal interaction you had had in a long time outside of work. It did help that this man was what some would call daddy.

“Oh, I am not a good cook. I just stick to the basics you know, less chances of messing up a dish.” He answered and handed you a classic cheese dip. You took it from him with a smile and thanked him. You lingered a moment, for some reason wanting to stay. It seemed like he had the same idea for even though he had picked his own jar, he didn’t leave.

“You, uh – you should get nachos to go with this. They have them on sale.” You said and internally cringed.

“Oh, alright then. Will you show me the way?” He asked and you nodded, leading him around as he followed with his cart.

“You new in the area?” You asked him since all locals knew the store layout pretty well.

“Ah yes, just moved here from Newton, Massachusetts. My name is Andy Barber” The man said and offered you a hand. Your smile vanished even as you mechanically accepted his hand and shook it. Andy Barber. AB. Like the initials on your wrist. Your hand squeezed around your wristband, your heart beating a mile an hour.

“Hey, you okay?” Andy asked and you realized he’d been speaking to you.

“Ah yes, yes I’m okay. Just lost in thought. Here we are, nachos.” You said and uselessly pointed at the display. You told yourself you were being silly, a lot of people with same initials existed. He may not even have a soulmark. Yet as you looked at him selecting his flavors, you couldn’t help but feel lighter than you had in months. You felt belonged, stupid as that may sound.

“So, you live around here?” You wished Andy would stop talking. The more he spoke, the more you wanted to stay and talk the rest of your life away with him.

“Yes, I am a doctor at the Avenger Tower.” You managed to say and saw his eyebrows raise appreciatively.

“Damn, that’s so cool” He said, and you couldn’t help but grin. “I am a lawyer, starting as a professor in NYU from next term.”

“Damn, that’s so cool” you mimicked him and you both breathed out a laugh. You didn’t realize it as you spoke to him that you were walking aimlessly with him around the store, telling him about the sites he absolutely must visit in New York and the best places to get coffee and hotdogs from. You had circled back to the spreads section and stood awkwardly facing each other.

“Uh, it may seem a little forward, but will you show me around the city?” Andy asked, fiddling with the cuffs on his shirt. You wanted him to take it off and see if your initials were tattooed in his skin like his were in yours. You were about to open your mouth when a hand wrapped around your waist from behind.

“There you are sweetie, you had us worried.” Steve’s words felt like a splash of cold water. For a few glorious moments you had forgotten your predicament, lost as you were in conversation with Andy. Your eyes met Andy’s and you saw him frown, his gaze narrowing on Steve’s arm around you and noticing how you tried to get out of it.

“I – uh, couldn’t decide so settled with the classic.” You showed Steve the cheese dip, but his eyes were fixed on Andy whose face was clouded with suspicion.

“Steve Rogers” He offered his hand to Andy, a useless introduction since most people recognized him with ease. You thought Andy would almost decline the handshake but, in the end, politely shook it.

“Pleased to meet you. Thank you for your service to the nation and the world.” His words were polite and yet there was a mistrustful edge to it. You hoped that he wouldn’t say anything and just walk away. You knew how Steve and Bucky could get about other men in your life, and right now you wanted Andy far away from here.

“Don’t mention it” Steve said preening and you took off his hand from your waist and laced your fingers together, trying to pull him away.

“We gotta go, lots to do back home. Thanks for the suggestion mister” You unnecessarily pointed at the jar again and tried to move back but Steve stood still. You were careful not to mention Andy’s name in front of him and you prayed with everything in you that this interaction would be over soon enough.

“Steve, you find her yet?” You closed your eyes in defeat and shame as Bucky walked from the other side and joined your little party. He closed in on you, hands cupping your face and drawing you in a deep kiss. You kept your eyes downcast, not looking at Andy and hoping the Earth will swallow you whole.

“Yeah, she’s was just having some trouble selecting the flavor until this gentleman here helped her.” Steve said and Bucky turned to look at Andy who was frowning harder than ever now. Andy’s eyes were searching yours, but you couldn’t let yourself meet his. Your shame and fear were profound and all you wanted was to leave.

Bucky’s eyes moved from Andy to Steve to you and he straightened, his arm curling around your shoulder, hand resting near your left collarbone just inches away from the scarred initials of him and Steve.

“Thank you, our girl here can be a little iffy when it comes to food” Bucky remarked affectionately but his emphasis on ‘our’ was not lost on either of you.

“Not a problem.” Andy finally nodded and took hold of his cart, ready to wheel it away. You almost sighed in relief, but your heart broke a little when he started retreating. Your eyes met for a brief moment and it seemed as if he would stop but then you looked away and he continued moving.

“What are we going to do with you Y/n?” Bucky muttered once Andy was out of sight. They didn’t care they were in a public place, both of them standing almost on top of you.

“I don’t know what you mean” You whispered and felt Bucky’s metal hand tighten over your arm. You hissed and tried to pull away but found your chin being raised up to face him with rough hands.

“Do you want another lesson on how to behave around strange men?” Bucky asked and your eyes widened, head shaking in negation.

“No, no Buck. Please, nothing happened. We were just talking” You begged, trying to convince him. You watched in horror as one of his hand outright cupped your left boob, fingers splayed so they pressed into the scars over your heart.

“You sure? I can show the whole store who you belong to my love.”

You were ready to start bawling when Bucky started fiddling with the neckline of your top, but it was Steve who saved the day. He gently pried Bucky’s hands from you and tucked you under his arm, pushing your head in his chest with a hand while the other kept Bucky away.

“Not here Buck, look at her. Honestly!” Steve started a swift walk towards the exit with you at his side and you couldn’t help but look back. It was one of those situations where you found the precious thing lost within a sea of garbage when you spotted Andy, his eyes not on you but your arm. You followed his gaze and suppressed a sob as you saw your wristband had shifted after your struggle with Bucky, bringing into view the initials that made your soulmark.

ASB: Andrew S Barber

You didn’t know his middle name but you couldn’t be any more sure of who your soulmate was when Andy’s eyes darted to his own covered wrist the moment Bucky shouted, “Steven Rogers and Y/n Y/l/n you both come back here this very second!”

Bucky was getting your stuff checked out, standing at the cashiers with his grumpy dad face on. Steve ignored him and continued dragging you away towards the exit. Your eyes watered and you tried to stem their flow so you could have one last glance at Andy without tears blurring your vision. You both stared at each other and just before you walked out the doors, even from the distance you saw Andy mouth a promise:

I will come for you

+++++

Fate was a cruel bastard, and you cursed your destiny as you lay curled in Steve’s lap after dinner. No one spoke much once you got home but you knew it was only a matter of time before shit hit the fan. You were wearing a short nightie, Bucky’s favorite and Steve’s hands were absently massaging you as he read through a new mission briefing.

“Wanda was asking about you again” Steve said, and you blinked at him. Just another thing you loved that they had snatched away from you. Wanda was obviously very suspicious when you announced you’ll be shifting from your apartment to Steve and Bucky’s since she knew you wanted to wait for your soulmate to show up. You would have confided in her had you not been aware of the damage your lovers could cause if displeased. Bucky had strictly ordered you to keep away from her until you were in control of your thoughts, which he was afraid Wanda would read. You had looked to help from Steve, who was softer out of the two, but he agreed with Bucky, “Better she not know anything than us having to eliminate her if she did.” They talked of death and violence with such ease it made your skin crawl.

“Can I see her now? I don’t think my texts are keeping her satisfied.” If only you could get a few hours away from their stifling presence maybe it would be more tolerable. The both of them clung to you like a babe to his mum, and your only respite were the hours you spent working.

“Do you think you’re ready to see her now?” Steve questioned you, finally looking up from his mission briefing. Before you could answer Bucky came behind you and plucked you from Steve’s arms like you weighed nothing and perched you in his own lap. Steve rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“The better question would be if you think you deserve to see her.” Bucky commented, his hand fondling your behind under the silk nightie. You shifted under his touch and gaze, uncomfortable under the stern look.

“I’m minding my thoughts, I promise.” You whined and Bucky’s hand cracked against your ass suddenly. You squealed and he held you down with one hand, the second blow even harder than the first.

“You and I both know that’s not what I meant. I don’t like it when you act dumb.” Bucky snarled and you flinched as he raised his hand again. To your surprise, the slap barely had any force behind it and Bucky rubbed your ass softly as if in apology. You turned your face to peek at him and saw him and Steve locked in one of those silent eye contact conversations that you absolutely loathed. Steve was almost glaring at Bucky as if displeased and Bucky had enough grace to look a little ashamed.

“I wasn’t!” Bucky cried out suddenly, throwing his hands in the air and huffing. It was as if they were continuing a conversation that went from telepathy to verbal and your mouth parted in awe when Steve continued speaking too.

“You would have if I didn’t stop you.”

Your gaze moved from one man to another, confused beyond measure. In a flash Bucky was gathering you in his arms, holding you to himself like he was afraid papa Steve would take away his favorite toy.

“I know my limits Steve. She’s mine as much as yours. Stop it.”

You were sure if you tilted your head up you would see Bucky pouting but instead you observed Steve who was in classic captain pose with hands on his hips and disapproval on his face.

“Do you really? Because it sure seemed like you were about to strip her naked in a supermarket of all places.”

“I wouldn’t! I was teasing her.” Bucky said, his head buried in your neck. He took your hand and placed it on his head and you slowly scratched with your nails, making him purr in satisfaction. Steve didn’t look the least bit convinced and his eyes kept bouncing between you and Bucky. Finally, he heaved a deep sigh before getting up.

“She is sleeping in my room tonight.” Your head snapped up just as Bucky’s hold tightened around you in rejection of the idea.

“No, you can’t take her from me.” Bucky snapped and you resisted the urge to slap them both. It bothered you how they went on talking about you like you weren’t even present here.

“I’m not taking her away from you, pal. Just like she learns her lessons when she fucks up, so will you.”

Bucky didn’t look like he would want a lesson, but it didn’t seem like the first time they were having this talk because he said nothing more. He almost didn’t let you leave when Steve took your arm to take you away but finally relented.

“When can I have her back?” Yep, he was definitely pouting.

“When you learn that teasing is pinching her ass in public, not stripping her bare in front of strangers.”

+++++

It had been a while since there were two people in bed and not three. You stretched your feet out, glad to have some extra space. Even cuddled up in Steve’s massive arms, your thoughts returned to Andy. You had finally found him after years of searching, only to lose him on the same day. It was a cosmic joke to have you cross paths now when it was too late to do anything. Your hand unconsciously traced the letters on your wrist, a slight thrill running down your spine as you finally realized what and who these initials stood for.

It wasn’t just a legend anymore. They were right when they said that soulmates completed you. In those precious few moments you had spent with Andy, all your worries had fallen away. You both had built a bubble around yourself where the outer world was nothing but a distant blur and you saw only each other. Conversation didn’t sound strained and you felt so connected despite having just met. You wished you knew he existed a few months ago. How different would life have been then if you were laying in his arms and not Steve and Bucky’s?

You bit your lip when you felt Steve take your hand in his from behind you, his fingers too tracing the initials on your wrist. You stiffened and held yourself back from snatching your hand away. It was never a very good idea to resist when it came to them both.

“Bucky doesn’t know yet” Steve murmured in your ear as he tapped your wrist. You felt your heart drop in your stomach, your fingers curling in your palm. “He thinks it was just some man you were speaking to. His jealousy makes him sloppy and he doesn’t notice details.”

You were turned around to face him, your eyes locking on Steve’s which were a vibrant blue even in the dark. His hands played at the hem of your nightie, teasing it.

“I noticed of course. How could I not, I have never seen you smile the way you smiled at him” You didn’t seem capable of speaking or protesting when Steve’s hands slipped up your clothing and caressed your thighs and belly. His hands were moving but his eyes were fixed on you and try as you might you couldn’t look away. Slowly, gently like one does to precious cargo you were stripped, your body baring itself inch by delicious inch. The calluses on his fingers rubbed against your nipples and you let out a moan, your slick coating your walls and thighs. Your lips met his in a desperate kiss and you couldn’t help but make pathetic mewls as his tongue raced across your throat. He came to rest above your heart, tracing the scar over it. JBB and SGR

“How are these any different to those on your wrist?” He questioned as he entered you slowly, looking deep into your eyes like trying to search your soul. “If we carve your name on our body, would that make you look at us like you looked at him?”

You couldn’t answer if you wanted to, the heat of Steve warming your insides. You met in a familiar dance, bodies slapping, and moaning together until pleasure took over every cell in your body. Steve pulled out and released on your thighs, rubbing his essence in your skin, his breath warm on your cheek.

“I don’t think I need to tell you what will happen if I find you talking to that man again” It was not a question and you shook your head, tears travelling down the sides of your face and getting lost in your hair. “Good girl. We can forget it and Bucky will never know. Because if that happens, even I won’t be able to help you.”

You reminded yourself that Steve was just as much of a monster as Bucky was. He had taken you against your will too, and while he may as well be the lesser of the two evils, you could not trust him. You turned to your side, automatically curling into Steve out of habit when he held you. That is what this relationship felt like. A habit. It was a routine you were stuck in with no way out. You closed your eyes, seeking the escape of sleep and tried to sooth your broken heart over a love it may never find again.

+++++

Bucky was a terrible stalker and you wondered how he remained a ‘ghost story’ for all those decades. Steve had been hoarding you in his room for nearly a week and you knew Bucky was at his wit’s end. He wasn’t even pretending to hide anymore; he’d just stand across the med bay and ogle you like a roadway creep. You didn’t even know what to do, who should you listen to. Being caught in the crossfire between them is not fun.

You finally had enough and made your way over to him. You were a few feet away when he snatched you in his arms, crushing you to his frame and kissing you soundly. Pulling away, he put his forehead on yours and bit your lip.

“I’ve missed you baby.” He cooed and you sighed.

“Is that why you’re lurking here and scaring my nursing staff away?” Bucky nodded, pecking your lips once more before you moved away.

“I’m sorry about the other day you know. I just…lost control.” It was rare that he would apologize, and you were too smart to reject this small consolation. He will probably be kind and soft for the coming few days and you took what you can. You smiled at him, promising him you forgave him.

“I have just one public hour and then we can go home together. Sounds good?” You asked and Bucky’s smile was almost shy when he agreed. Sometimes you believed it when they say they loved you, but how can someone hurt whom they love?

“You asked me once what I see in you, but have you ever looked at yourself the way I look at you? Here you are, one of the most accomplished doctors working for the Avengers, and yet you give your time to general public to treat their common cold and flu. That’s what I see in you. Your kindness, that light, it guides me away from the darkness in me.” Bucky confessed and you looked away from him. He could be so sweet when he has to be. Both him and Steve. You wonder again if they could always be like that, will you be able to love them.

“I – uh, I’ll see you in an hour, okay? Wait in the common room for me.”

You watched Bucky go and returned with a perturbed mind. The hot and cold behavior almost gives you a whiplash. In the past few months, you have spent several nights crying, but just as many moaning in pleasure. Maybe it could have been easier if you’d given in and just accepted them, but love does not come by force. They can carve their names in your skin a hundred times over, and yet it won’t leave a mark on your soul.

Your assistant entered, informing you that general patients were waiting for you and you nodded. Tony gave you an hour free every day to treat patients outside the tower for free. You believed being a doctor your job should be more than saving just superheroes. One by one your patients trickled in, most with common diseases. Some you prescribed for additional testing; all costs covered by the Stark Industries.

“Your last patient ma’am”

You nodded to let your assistant know you heard her and entered the room. You were looking over a report as you entered, the door shutting itself behind you automatically.

“Hello, how can I help you today?” You looked up and the report fell out of your hand. Sitting in front of you was Andy Barber, his eyes crinkled at the sides due to the wide smile he supported.

“I believe I have a heart problem doctor. A beautiful lady stole mine.”

+++++

 Taglist is open for all characters

#dark!steve x reader #dark!bucky x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #steve x reader #bucky x reader #andy barber x reader #andy x reader #soulmate au

[wiypt-writes]

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Ch9: Lebanon, Lebagone  

Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Summary:  A few months post their reconciliation, Jake and Stella run a mission with the rest of the team…

 Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Word Count: 8k ish.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. We do not own any characters in this series bar Stella Stevenson and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: So the mission detailed here was highly inspired by the second book in the Grey Man series. Locations and a few major details are changed, and the names are completely made up.  The Terrorist/Political party- The Lebanese Freedom Party, does not to our knowledge actually exist.

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 8 

 “Alright, let’s get in position before daylight hits.” Clay looked around as they walked down the narrow alleyway.

“Roger that.” Stella nodded as Cougar replied with a tip of his hat to show he had heard, Pooch also inclining his head.

The four of them stopped by a door to their right, Stella pulling the tool from her utility belt which was fastened around the waistband of her camo pants. She picked the lock in under thirty seconds, a simple job that required a little bit of jiggling, twisting and a good jerk with the torque wrench Cougar was holding to defeat.

“Not particularly high security considering this was a bank.” She mumbled as behind her Cougar chuckled.

Inside it was pitch black, dust rose in clouds, shimmering in the moonlight, which was streaking through the dirty arched windows. Both of them flipped out their flashlights, quickly scanning the room for any sign that someone had been here recently, but there was none. 

They crossed quietly and quickly through the main atrium of the old building, taking care to keep to the shadows. The old bank was completely deserted bar a few desks and old telephones which sported thick layers of dust as they moved through, heading for the spiral staircase at the far side.

“We’re clear.” Pooch said as he looked up to the top of the staircase. “This place hasn’t been accessed for years.”

“Lima Six, anything to report?” Clay spoke into his radio and a moment later Jensen replied.

“Nothing on the comms, they’re talking about moving Kilo One out at the time we suspected but it could be a rouse to make sure…but Lima Two knows the code-word should they decide to go early.”

“Okay, as soon as you get movement let me know.”

“Ten-four, One.”

“Okay, let’s get set up.” Clay instructed and the team nodded in agreement as they all set about, placing various pieces of equipment around the place exactly where it needed to be for when their target and his security detail, in which Roque had embedded himself undercover, came storming into the pre-designated building, seeking refuge from an attack outside.

It took them roughly an hour to set up completely, things having to be precisely as Pooch directed. Eventually, when he was happy, they climbed the staircase at the back of the room. Four sets of eyes swept the square below. It was deserted, as was to be expected at such an early hour in the morning.

Stella scanned the buildings, nevertheless, her eyes sharp, looking for any sign of movement around the whitewashed and pebble-dashed sandstone that they had grown accustomed to seeing over the last three weeks or so they’d been in Nabatieh, Lebanon.

“So Khalil should be coming from there.” Pooch raised his arm and pointed to a small road to the right. “The plan is we lay down some fire by his bodyguards as he approaches the podium, and force them to take shelter in the bank, as led nicely by Roque.”

“Why do we want this guy alive so badly, anyway?” Stella mumbled to herself. “If he’s such a bastard, why don’t we just kill him? He’s a terrorist leader.”

“The Lebanese Freedom Party ain’t deemed terrorists all over the world.” Pooch grinned and Stella snorted. “Russia views them as a legitimate socio-political force.”

“Russia basically executes people for being gay” She scoffed. “Forgive me for not taking their viewpoint here as the one to set my moral compass against.” She sighed. “Cougs could take one shot, straight in the head. Boom. Job done.”

Cougar chuckled as he unloaded his rifle and stand, looking up at Clay. “She’s not wrong, Boss.”

“Whilst wiping that particular shit stain off the face of the earth might be appealing, they ain’t our orders. We apprehend alive.” Clay spoke, matter of factly and Stella rolled her eyes.

“Whatever helps us sleep at night, huh?”

****

Stella had to hand it to their Intel department. The start of the hit went like clockwork. At bang on the designated time, Jensen radioed in to say that they were moving out and sure enough, twenty minutes or so later he accounted the SUVs and jeeps had left the compound. He joined the rest of the team little over half an hour later, leaving the dirty van he had been driving hidden down a dark alleyway at the back of the bank, behind the one the rest of the team had arrived in and headed into the dank building, wrinkling his nose at the musty air as he walked in. 

“Hey.” He greeted Stella, his hand falling to her shoulder as she sat in the back, her attention focussed through the window, a pair of binoculars raised to her eyes.

“Hey.” She whispered back, her gaze flicking to him quickly, flashing him a smile as she turned back to her spotting.

“So I picked up on their coms that they think Khalil’s personal security have done a sweep of the area.” Jensen looked at them. “Roques done his job nicely. They should be entering the square from the South West corner.”

 “ETA?” Clay turned to him.

“Less than five minutes.”

“Excellent.” Clay nodded. “So far so good.”

The next five minutes or so passed in silence, all five of the Officers in the room observing the roads leading to the square just in case. Even though their intel was solid, it was drilled into them that they should never rely on it completely.

“Boss,” Cougar spoke suddenly, his shoulders squaring back, “target approaching. Roughly two miles out.”

“Fuck, I got something coming too from the North East.” Pooch groaned.

“What?” Clay demanded.

“I dunno but it looks suspiciously like an ARV.”

“An ARV?” Clay frowned.

“Yup. They’ve stopped. Six hundred yards out.”

“What do you mean they’ve stopped?” Jensen demanded, snatching the binoculars off him.

“What the fuck do you think I mean?” Pooch replied. “They’re not moving.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Stella growled and Clay took the binoculars off Jensen. She watched as Clay took a look before he sighed heavily and dropped his head.

“It’s the Lebanese Special Service. I recognise one of them from a mission a while back.”

“What the hell are they doing here?”

 “I should have seen this coming.” Clay bit his lip. “They’re going to hit him at the rally. The false trail we leaked to them means they think we’re moving on him as he makes his way out of town and up to Beirut. They’re going to get in first.”

“It’s a double cross.” Stella looked at Jake and Pooch as she spoke, the pair of them exchanging a look before all eyes bar Cougar’s, which remained firmly fixed on his target, turned to Clay. “Why?”

“Death to the West and all that.” Clay sniffed. “They’re gonna take him out and try and use USA involvement as cover.”

“Don’t they realise that won’t work?” Stella shook her head. “We’re Black Ops, the thick fuckers. As soon as there’s so much of a sniff that shit is going west, the CIA will leave us high and dry, denying they had anything to do with it.”

“So what’s Plan B?” Pooch turned to look Clay. “I’m hoping you got a Plan B, because Plan A is going to shit.”

“Kilo one still approaching.” Cougar stated.

“You got anything special in your arsenal?” Clay turned to Pooch. “As in blow up an ARV special?”

Pooch blinked. “Yeah, the RPG but…”

“Go get it.” Clay instructed.

Pooch didn’t hesitate, he shot off down the stairs and Stella watched him go before she turned her attention back to the large square, which was roughly the size of two football pitches, busy with people bustling about their everyday business.

“If we get this wrong, the whole square is gonna be caught up in a fucking gun fight,” Stella spoke, her eyes falling on a group of kids in the middle.

There was a pause before Clay spoke again. “Khalil is our main objective; we just need to keep collateral to a minimum.”

Collateral. Stella hated that fucking word. She swallowed and looked at Jensen who gave her a small smile, which she returned before she glanced back at the square.

“One mile out.” Cougar informed.

“Okay,” Clay spoke, clapping his hands together. “Pooch, as soon as the LSS move, you shoot that RPG straight at the fuckers.”

“Gladly.” He nodded, “But, chances are if they’ve got an ARV out there then they’ll already have agents on the ground.”

“It doesn’t matter, all we gotta do is get a shot off first.  Once that initial gun crack is heard, Khalil’s security outfit are gonna herd him in here anyway. And hopefully, when the LSS get note their vehicle has gone bang it’ll draw them into blowing cover somehow.” Clay nodded. “At least then we’ll be able to spot where they are.” He took a deep breath. “Cougar, keep watch on Khalil. As soon as you get a viable opportunity to lay down the fire, take it.”

Cougs, who hadn’t taken his eye away from the target sight of his gun simply tipped the brim of his hat again with his finger to show he had understood and Clay turned to the other three of them as they waited instructions.

 “What about Roque?” Stella asked. “He doesn’t know about the LSS.”

“He’ll roll with the punches.” Clay rubbed his hand over his chin. “Everyone clear?”

“Clear as, boss, it’s a shoot-out.” Jensen snorted, nodding his head as he gave a chuckle. “Good times.”

“If this is your idea of a good time then I’d hate to see a bad one.” Pooch grumbled and Stella gave a chuckle.

“Hey, Poochy, I just like to see the positive in all aspects of life.” Jensen grinned, holding his hands out to the side, palms up. “You’re just grumpy because Jolene’s finally managed to…ouch!” Jensen gave a yelp as Stella punched him hard on the arm. “What was that for, babe?”

Stella shot him a look which instantly shut him up. Pooch had confided in her, Cougar and Jensen no less than two days ago that Jolene was four months pregnant, but he didn’t want to tell Clay or Roque for reasons that he was keeping to himself, as per his prerogative, she supposed. It had made her and Jensen snort a little, as when Aubrey had found out she was pregnant roughly five months or so ago, the entire world had known pretty much before the pee was dry on the test stick. Jensen’s eyes widened as he realised exactly what he’d been about to say and he grimaced, before turning to Pooch, giving him an apologetic look.

“Kilo One is approaching the square.” Cougar spoke, and they all turned their attention to him, stepping forward to the window, Clay observing their surroundings with the binoculars. 

“Okay, focus up Losers.” Clay hushed them all, gesturing to Pooch. “Get ready with that RPG”

Pooch shot Jensen one final filthy glare before he stepped forward, resting the grenade launcher on his shoulder.

“Arty, Jensen, in position.” Clay instructed. “Coms on, code names only.”

They both nodded, Stel picking up a device that had been in Pooch’s big bag of tricks, and made their way back to the spiral staircase.

And then, it all happened at once. Clay gave the order to fire and both Pooch and Cougar took their shots at the same time. The popping of guns, sounds of screaming and yelling and a rather large explosion followed by Pooch’s loud chuckles of glee hit their ears and Jensen looked at Stella as they waited at the top of the stairs.

“I really shouldn’t enjoy this as much as I should.” He grinned, and Stella snorted as suddenly the room below them was full of voices, once of which the recognised instantly as Roque. From their extensive planning, Sella knew that they would likely hustle into the room in a tight cordon, with Khalil in the middle and head to the most secure part of the building, the vault. They had no idea how many of the guard had made it into the building with Khalid, but essentially it didn’t matter. The Losers were one step ahead.

As soon as the group made their way towards the main part of the atrium, through the open double doors which led through the cashier area, Jensen grinned at Stella.

“Hit it, babe!” 

Stella smirked as she pushed the button on the device she held in her hand. The large electromagnets that had been placed on the locks snapped into place, firing the four inch thick steel bolts into their slots, securing them tightly, ensuring no one could get out, and no one else could get in. Yells of warnings rang out about the place as the guards instantly wheeled round, their guns raised and Roque’s eyes flickered upwards to where they were hidden on the veranda above. Jensen raised his right hand, his index and middle finger extended and he waved them across his face, indicating that their next move was about to go down. Roque made no sign he’d seen them, bar a quick double-blink.

“I’m sorry, pal.” Jensen grimaced a little as he ducked down and lifted a heavy square box off the floor, flipping the plastic cover up, jamming his thumb onto the red button. “Lima Two is about to deploy, please return to your seats and cover your ears.” He spoke into his coms, giving the rest of the team a warning. As soon as the device beeped to say it was charged, Jensen launched it over the side of the railing where it fell onto the floor below. As soon as it left his hands, he and Stella ducked down, their fingers jammed in their ears, eyes scrunched shut as the device activated.

Referred to merely by Pooch as the S-Fud- ‘Sensory Fuck-Up Device’, the item had been developed by the boffins in the CIA lab to create complete optical and aural disorientation by using ultra violet and bright white lights and a loud, high pitched sound and sonic wave. Even with his eyes screwed shut, the flash of light still bounced off all the surfaces surrounding Jensen, and the hands which were clamped over his ears might have dimmed the majority of the loud wailing siren, which lasted no more than two seconds, but the combination was still enough to leave him feeling slightly woozy as he stood to his feet, blinking furiously, his eyes feeling like he’d stared straight at the sun, his eardrums ringing as if he’d spent hours in a nightclub with music thumping in his ears. Besides him, Stella staggered to her feet and shook her head, pressing the heel of her palm to the space between her eyes. But they had no time to waste. Jake gently shook her shoulder and she nodded to show him she was okay. Together they made their way down the stairs as quickly as they could. 

The S-Fud had done its job, all the men were incapacitated to some extent. As Stella’s eyes glanced around she quickly counted six men in total. Three, one of whom was Khalil, were completely unconscious, face down on the floor. Two more, including Roque, were writhing in pain, hand clutched over their ears, and one was attempting to stagger to his feet. In a flash, Stella had nailed him with a kick to the face, and he fell backwards with a thud, his nose shattering as her heel smashed straight into the bridge.

“Did you see that?” Jensen turned to the other three men who had joined them, all looking around the room. “My girl, she’s a bad ass chick.”

“Can you concentrate on the mission in hand for once and not your dick?” Pooch shook his head as Cougar hit the moving guard with the butt of his rifle, knocking him out.

“Your momma concentrated on my dick last night.” Jensen shot back and Pooch groaned.

“Seriously? Momma jokes, now?”

“Shut up.” Stella nudged Jake harshly with her elbow as she walked past, following Clay as they stepped over the unconscious guards, heading towards Roque as he groaned and lay curled up in the foetal position. Clay knelt down and reached out, loosening his tie and the top button of his dress shirt before patting him on the shoulder, as Stella did the same to their target.

“Okay, lets move.” Clay looked up. “Jensen, Pooch, you take Roque. I’ll get Khalil. Cougs, Arty, give us cover to the vehicle.”

The team all nodded, Jensen and Pooch stepping forward, each seizing Roque under his arms. They managed to get him to his feet, each supporting him, their arms round his back as his arms slumped over their shoulders. His feet staggered on the floor as he made an attempt to talk.

“We got you, buddy.” Jensen said softly. “You’ll be alright, just feel like you’ve got one hell of a hangover for a few hours.”

Meanwhile Clay had managed to hoist Khalil to his feet with Cougar’s help, the man a complete dead weight, which he allowed to slump against his right shoulder. With an almighty heave he ducked and then stood, using his legs to rise up fully, Khalil slung over him in a fireman’s lift, his arms dangling freely down Clay’s back.

Without another word, the team moved as quickly as they could to the dead-bolted doors where Stella reached into her pocket with one hand, whipping her pistol out with the other. She clicked the device, which unlocked the glass doors and they made their way across the atrium, the chaotic noises from outside growing louder as they approached the back door to the bank they’d used to enter. Stella flattened herself against one side of the wall to the right of the door as Cougar took aim with his rifle. He looked at her and nodded, and in a flash she reached out and yanked it open, Cougar darting through, rifle held in front of him. 

“Clear.” He spoke and Stella moved to allow the rest of the team to step out into the alleyway, taking up the rear. 

She spotted the man hiding in a doorway two down before Cougs even had chance to shout a warning. In a flash she fired pistol twice. The first shot hit the guy in the arm, causing him to drop his gun, the second in the knee and he fell to the floor, screaming in agony. Then came another, and another. As Stella and Cougar continued, Jensen, Pooch and Clay heaved their charges to the side of the van, ducking as shots rained down on them. Pooch wrenched open the door, and Jensen hopped into the back, hoisting Roque in as gently as he could, a sharp contrast to the way Clay simply slung Khalil unceremoniously into the back. As Pooch ran to the front and hopped into the driver side, Stella and Cougar both sprinted towards the van, flinging themselves in as the engine started. With a sharp tug, Clay pulled he door shut as Pooch started the engine. 

Seconds later, the van roared back off up the alley, the crackle of gunfire from the square growing quieter and quieter as they put more distance between them and the danger.  Pooch drove them out onto the main road, towards the point, some six miles or so away, where they would ditch the van and hop into two separate SUVs and make their way to the agreed Ex-fil point at Saida Port roughly a half an hour or so drive away.

Stella closed her eyes, resting her head against the cool metal of the van, watching as Pooch and Jensen  hoisted Khalil into a sitting position, securing his wrists with flexi-restraints behind his back. Cougar was busy offering Roque some water, Stella pleased to see their teammate was finally starting to come round. She smiled as Jensen flopped down next to her, his arm looping round her shoulders as he pulled her to him for a soft kiss.

“I love working with you,” he grinned and she snorted, shaking her head as she chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re a regular nine-to-five couple, aint we?”

****

“Stel?” Jake called through the door of the bathroom of their temporary lodgings before he opened it and to be greeted by Stella led back in the bath, eyes closed. She turned her head to look at him. “I was gonna ask if you wanted head out with the guys for a beer and food but you look pretty comfortable.”

She pulled a face. “I’m feeling anti-social.” Jake laughed at her frank answer and smiled as she gave a small shrug. “Sorry, not sorry, but we spent four weeks in a hell hole motel and I’m extremely grateful Clay’s managed to get us holed up in a nice place and not the Officers’ Quarters on base so I intend to make the most of it.”

“Babes, we were both in the army.” He snorted. “Rocks for pillows and all that.”

“Yeah, well it’s been a while since I did that. What can I say? I’ve grown used to the finer things again.”

“Fair enough, I’ll let Clay know you hate them all and don’t want to socialise.” He teased.

“Jakey, we’re gonna be here for by my guess a week at least, plenty of time to go out sampling the finest bars the UK has to offer.” She shrugged, not bothered in the slightest by his teasing. “If you wanna go meet them, feel free. I’ll grab a take out. There were some leaflets pinned to the board in the kitchen.”

“Or…” Jake smirked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, “I stay here, because frankly, that bed looks really comfy and I kinda wanna test it. See how grossed out we can make Pooch.”

“Jerk.” Stella snorted.

“Well, he’s done nothing but complain since we got here about how he has to share this house with us and can’t go in with the others, so I wanna give him something to really complain about.”

“You’re such a little shit.” She laughed and Jake groaned. 

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Laugh?”

“Yeah, it’s making your boobs wobble under the water, and that’s making me horny.”

“You’re always horny.”

“Hornier than usual.”

“Well, I can solve that problem.” She grinned and Jake smirked.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, turn around and shut the door on your way out.”

“Ouch, Stells.” Jake slapped his hand over his heart. “That’s cold.”

“Hmmm,” She muttered, laying her head back and closing her eyes again. “If you’re getting in here you better hurry, or the water will be cold too.”

Jake grinned and in a flash, reached back to grab a fist full of his t-shirt behind the collar and pulled it over his head. As his hands flew to the button on his jeans Stella nodded to the door.

“You better lock that, I know you said you wanted to gross Pooch out but if he walks in on us he’ll be scared for life.”

“And?”

Stella merely arched her brow, “No locky, no fucky.”

With that Jake spun on his heel and flicked the lock, before he turned round and shoved his pants and boxers down in one full swoop and swung his leg over the side of the tub. Stella moved forward so he could settle behind her, his legs laying either side of hers. It was a tight squeeze, the tub in the two bedroomed terraced house wasn’t built to accommodate two but neither paid it any mind. 

Stella took a deep breath, closed her eyes and leaned back, her head laying against Jake’s chest as his hands softly rubbed up and down her forearms, his lips pressing a kiss to her shoulder. 

They were silent for a while, the pair of them simply contented to stay there for a moment, relishing the peace after a long and tedious mission and the chance to relax for an evening before the debriefs and analysis started the next day in the War Rooms of the RAF Base in Suffolk, England. Often, the aftermath of a mission was more hard-going than the action itself. They’d hash over the events, listen to the CIA operative justify some of the more morally ambiguous decisions made, no doubt the ramifications and political fall-outs, be informed about how the CIA were going to play it and then they’d have to submit written reports, which would be Classified at the highest levels and stored in the top secret vaults in Virginia. 

It was part and parcel of being in a black-ops team. They knew the script, having read and played it many a times before. But it was draining and exhausting, one of the many reasons Stella was glad that the actual missions they ran, whilst they could last months at a time, were on the large few and far between.

“You okay?” Jake broke the silence and pressed his lips once more to the back of her shoulder and Stella nodded, tilting her head round so she could look at him.

“I spoke to Rey before.”

“Yeah, how is she?”

“She said she felt the baby move for the first time.” Stella beamed.

“Oh, that’s awesome.” Jake grinned back, “are they gonna find out what they’re having?”

Stella snorted, “dur. You know what she’s like. She’ll want to decorate and buy it blue or pink clothes, plus if it’s a boy she’s got time to mentally prepare seeing as all she wants is a little girl to treat like a doll.”

Jake laughed. “Is it wrong I kinda hope it is a boy?”

Stella grinned. “Nope, I was thinking the same. She’s asked me to be with her when it’s born.”

“I’m not surprised.” Jake wrinkled his nose. “Dick’s gonna be about as much use as a knife in a gun fight.”

“Knives can be very useful in a gun fight, if you know how to use them.”

“Oooh I love it when you talk dirty, babe.” Jensen smirked and dropped his head to kiss her softly. His right hand moved from its spot on her arm to stroking her hip, tracing a path down the outside of her thigh. His fingers softly traced shapes on her warm, wet skin just to the side of her knee before he moved his touch up her leg again then across to her abdomen. Stella sighed against his mouth, as her head lolled to the right. Jensen’s mouth moved, trailing a line down her neck, nipping at the hinge of her jaw. 

He was growing hard against her, Stella could feel it, and the way his fingers were ghosting over her made her skin tingle and her body shiver. "Jake," she whimpered. "Yeah, baby?" His fingers found the tuft of curls and then her nub. "You gonna sing for me, Stells?" He encircled her clit with his fingertip and drew back up. "Let me play that pussy?" “Fuck...” she groaned, leaning further back into him, her body sagging into his. She loved his dirty talk, being so in control for most of the time, she enjoyed letting herself go when it came to this. “Feels good, Jakey.” "Yeah? You like it when I touch you, feel my fingers inside? Stretching you for my dick?" He dipped two fingers inside, his thumb able to press into her sensitive clit. "Jesus, fuck," Stella gasped as he moved into her. The thickness of his fingers felt like she was on fire and had her silently begging his foreplay wasn't long. "So fucking wet already, babe." Jake was enjoying the feel of her on his fingers. It'd been a long while since he'd felt all of her and he hid his desperation well behind dirty words and filthy ministrations. His mouth moved down her neck, teeth gently nipping at her skin as he went, lips curling into a smirk as he listened to her softly groaning. Her hips moving in time with his hand as his fingers curled inside her.  Water began to just teeter over the tubs edge but neither paid any mind. Stella's breathy pants bounced off of Jake's cheek as he watched himself finger fuck her. "I love it when you fuck my fingers, baby." "Oh God," Stella squeaked, for she was going to hit that edge and fall right over. The time between, the angst of their mission and Jake's mouth were nearing too much. "Jakey, please," she moaned. "Cum on my fingers, Stells, then I'm gonna fuck you, really...really... good." With each 'really' Jake barely rutted against Stella, just enough to tease her at what he wanted to do to her. He wanted to slide in, slow and deep, her body seated on top his, while he feasted on her nipples and neck. He wanted to be buried into her to the hilt and paint her walls with his seed. Stella came undone as her body quaked against his chest. With a breathy squeak she went rigid and her hand flew from the side of the tub, wrapping around is wrist as she came, her walls clamping around his fingers "Fuck, Stella, turn around baby, sit on my lap." She was as languid as the water around them, her body drowning in ecstasy as Jake helped her turn in the small space. His fully erect and throbbing cock stood at attention, his head just above the water’s surface. He guided Stella just where he wanted her and slowly dipped inside her still trembling walls. The sensation was more than Stella had bargained for and she moaned out loudly as she sank into him. "That's it baby, let them hear you" Jake bucked a bit into her, closing the gap that Stella was slowly shortening, his cock fully inside her and he moaned himself. She felt so good, so tight. Like there was no one else made for him but her. The thought gave him a flutter deep in his belly. She was his, and would be forever, if she'd have him. Stella rolled her hips against his, grinding down the pressure on her sensitive clit while Jake's lips moved over her skin, nearing her pert nipples. His hands wove around her back, fingers pressing into her spine as he bobbed his hips up and down to meet with her rolls. It was a dirty grind, water sloshing out of the tub like waves licking the shore. When Jake found a nipple and rolled it between his lips, his tongue tasting her flesh and his teeth nipping at it, Stella tugged at the little bits of longer hair atop Jake's head as she squeaked out a pleasurable sound. One of Jake's large hands palmed down her back and over the curve of her ass, squeezing her cheek as she rocked all whilst he played with her breasts. The same hand soon found its way between their bodies and pressed hard into her clit before smoothing upward over her tummy and grasping her left breast, kneading it gently. The more he gave, the more she took and before long she was grinding down against him, her breathing ragged as he thrust up, hard, his hands dropping to her hips.  “Come on baby,” he groaned as her head fell back, his lips nipping against her collar bone, “fuck, I love you.” “Love you.” She groaned as he thrust up, her hands curling over his shoulders, nails biting his skin. “Shit, Jakey, I’m gonna...” “Cum baby, come on.” His jaw clenched as her body trembled and her eyes fluttered closed, as she let out a broken, whispered groan. As she clenched around him, Jake gave a soft growl of his own, his hips moving slightly faster as he rutted up, pulling her down onto him. The coil in his abdomen that had been tightening and tightening snapped and his entire body surrendered, a surge of warmth spreading from his belly outwards and he stilled, his cock twitching as he came. A few sloppy thrusts later and he stilled with a satisfied him, his hands moving to smooth Stella’s damp hair back off her face as hers cupped his cheeks. She simply looked at him for a moment and he gave her a grin causing her to chuckle as she pressed a soft kiss to his mouth.  “Jesus Christ, that was amazing.” Jensen mumbled and Stella grinned, her lips meeting his once more. They stayed still for a moment, soft kisses being shared until Stella shivered a little and Jake helped her move off him so he could get out of the tub and leave her to finish off. He grabbed a towel and his glasses from the basin unit before he dried off, gathered his discarded clothes and headed onto the small landing of the accommodation. Pooch, who was just emerging from the other bedroom shot him a look. “You better clean that damned bathroom before I use it.” He arched his eyebrow and Jensen grinned. “You’re like the best disgusting person I know.” Pooch continued with a snort before he nodded his head to the stairs. “Take it you’re two ain’t coming?” “Already came, Poochy.” Jensen grinned as he walked to their bedroom, laughing as the sounds of Pooch’s groans of disgust hit his ears.

****

Stella woke the next morning to a burning deep in her core and Jake’s face between her legs. Her orgasm roused her much better than any alarm or cup of coffee ever could and as Jake stuffed himself insider her, his mouth nipping softly at her neck, she smiled softly to herself as she realised he’d done this very thing the first morning they’d moved up to college together.

After pulling on her Army Uniform cargo pants, Stella tucked her khaki green tee into the waist and adjusted the belt before she sat down and laced up her heavy boots as Jake fiddled with the collar of his, complaining that it felt tight. When Stella pointed out he was slightly more built than he had been last time he wore it a good few months ago, he grinned and flexed his arms to give her the ‘gun show’ making her snort and shake her head.

They headed out of the house and walked the half a mile to the main gate of the base, flashing their ID and making their way to the Mess for breakfast where they met with the rest of the team, Pooch giving them another filthy look as their antics had continued beyond the bathroom and much later into the night. Once they’d finished eating, they each grabbed a coffee to go and headed down to the War Rooms - a network of conference rooms and IT facilities nestled in a bunker along the runway of the RAF Base - and settled down in the leather seats around the large, polished mahogany table ready for whoever it was from the CIA that would be arriving to give the debrief.

They’d been there for roughly half an hour or so and Jensen was already bored. He was messing around, twirling his pen in-between his fingers, the other tapping against the disposable coffee cup. After a pause, he took his pen and began to draw a face on the white plastic lid.

“What are you doing?” Stella looked at him, having caught his fiddling in the corner of her eye.

“I’m bored, Stelly,” his voice was a childish whine, “where is this guy anyway? We’ve been waiting here for like thirty minutes!”

“Just take the fucking pen off him, Arty.” Roque groaned. Stella reached over for it and snatched it away”

“Hey, that’s mine!”

“Jensen, shut up!” Roque shot back and Jensen turned to him.

“Why? It’s not like anyone is talking anyway.”

“You, you’re talking. As usual. Put a sock in it.” Roque turned to Stell as Clay stood up and walked to the door to see if anyone was coming. “How the fuck do you put up with this?”

“He has his mouth busy most of the time.” Stella quipped as she leaned back in the chair and Jensen gave her a dopey grin.

Both Roque and Pooch let out noises of disgust, Cougar’s chuckle just audible from the other side of the table where he lounged with his feet on the table and his hat pulled down over his eyes.

“Yeah, laugh all you want but next time it’s you sharing the digs with them.” Pooch looked at him. “I’m done.”

“Chill out.” Cougar replied and Pooch blinked.

“Did you just tell me to chill?”

Cougar smirked in response, tipping his hat up slightly to flash Pooch a wink.

“The Pooch is perfectly chilled.”

“The Pooch refers to himself in the third person,” Jensen shook his head, “that’s so not chill.”

“Oh…this just got even better.” Clay’s remark had them all turning towards him, the teasing banter dying off as Roque sat up.

“What?”

Clay simply walked into the room, rolling his eyes. Less than five seconds later, in walked a very familiar face.

“Oh great.” Jake mumbled as Stella blinked, coming face to face with her ex for the first time since he’d stormed out of her apartment all those months ago.

“Good Morning.” Evan greeted them all before he nodded to Stella, a little awkwardly. “Hey.”

“Evan, hi... what are you... what are you doing here?” She asked and Evan took a deep breath.

“It was my intel you guys were running down so I’m here for debrief.”

“That was your intel?” Pooch spoke and Evan nodded.

“Yeah, we’ve been tracking Khalil for a while and reached out to him a while ago to offer him a deal. He declined so we needed to bring him in.” Evan nodded. “His activities were giving us cause for concern, not to mention with the Russians behind him. We needed to make the grab before he got even more power behind his cause.”

Jake sensed Stella tensing slightly besides him and slid his hand over her thigh. Her fingers gently locked over his as she kept her gaze on Evan, who had spotted the subtle movement of Jake’s hand. He didn’t say anything, instead the man’s eyes flicked to Jake’s who simply stared back before Roque chipped in.

“So, we got the guy. Did he give you what you needed?”

“I can’t tell you that.” Evan replied, apologetically. “It’s classified, need to know basis.”

“In that case I don’t wanna know.” Pooch mumbled.

Stella’s mind was whirling. Truth be told, she’d started to think about exactly why they’d been dispatched to capture this particular guy alive, when his type were ten-a-penny all over the place. There was a lot more to it than the fact this guy’s ideologies didn’t fit with those of the Western World.  And then, the final little piece dropped into place in her analytical brain and she turned her head to see Clay watching her.

“Did you know?” She asked.

Clay shook his head. “Suspected but…”

“Suspected what?” Jensen looked at Clay then Stella. “Babe?”

She took a deep breath. “There’s a reason why we were on a capture not kill mission. At first I assumed it was to do with not making him a martyr but then throwing him in prison would cause just as much unrest. But that unrest will die down when he’s released in a few months in exchange for his cooperation for details on his Russian backers and arms suppliers.”

The rest of the team looked at her, then to Evan who blinked, his face remaining stoic as Stella shook her head and continued.

“He then lets his supporters know that he and his friends in Russia had a disagreement and he was traded away. He retires to some island somewhere, under the careful watch of the UN and fades away into non-existence.”

There was silence and Evan took a deep breath, “it’s not quite as simple as that, Stel…Stevenson, but yeah, that’s pretty much the basics.”

“God, this is so fucking bent.” Stella shook her head. “It’s no wonder the entire world hates us.”

“You know, considering you technically work for the CIA and the Armed Forces, you kinda signed up for this.” Clay raised his eyebrow as Stella rolled her eyes.

“We tried to negotiate terms with him. He turned them down.” Evan replied, matter-of-factly. “So we sent you in to enforce them. The rest, as I stated a minute or so ago, you really don’t need to know.”

“Yeah, classified, we heard.” Clay replied, leaning back in his chair.

“Did you suspect the Lebanese Special Service would try a double cross?” Roque looked at Evan and the man shot him an apologetic look.

“It was always possible, yeah. But you know how it goes…”

Roque scoffed and Cougar shifted in his seat, Evan’s eyes flicking to him before he took a deep breath and shrugged.

“If it helps, think of the bigger picture. We remove their leader, cut off the Russian support, and suddenly the LFP is nothing more than an overhyped street gang...”

“Yeah, that doesn’t really help.” Jensen wrinkled his nose and Evan shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Well, that’s your opinion. Not ours.” He cleared his throat, “anyway, it’s done. The mission is over. For now, you guys need to lay low. We’ve cleared it with the RAF for you to stay in the area for a while until all the fuss about Khalil going missing has died down. We’ll be monitoring all the usual lines and channels of communication, making sure no one has your descriptions and doing what we can to keep your faces out of the public eye.” Evan paused. “But, I’m sure I don’t need to remind you what happens if we can’t.”

At that The Losers simply looked at one another. Evan was right, they didn’t need reminding. That was the whole point of the CIA running the number of Black-Ops teams it did. It gave them a way to do the slightly grey area dirty jobs and remain at arm’s length, denying all responsibility if required.

“Any idea on how long that’s gonna be?” Pooch asked. 

“Probably be a week, maybe two. But once we’re confident we’re clear, we’ll send word and get you back to the US.” Evan replied.

“So what you’re saying is we got two weeks off?” Cougar spoke and Evan looked at him, giving a shrug.

Pooch grinned and fist bumped Cougar.

“Are you staying here too?” Jensen looked at Evan and he shook his head.

“Don’t worry, I’m flying back to Virginia tonight”

“I’m not really worried…” Jake shrugged. There was a moment where both men simply stared at each other until Clay coughed.

“Right, is there anything else?”

“Mission reports due as usual, next forty eight hours.” Evan turned his head away from Jensen and looked around the team. “I’ve arranged access into the Red Network from the hub on the base. Your liaison officer, Wing Commander Levinson, says he can set you guys up with time on the range or the phys- ops courses too, have you join their drills if you want. Might be an idea to keep yourselves sharp.”

Cougar, Pooch and Jake all groaned at the suggestion of the physical training whilst Roque and Stella looked at one another, nodding.

“Yeah, I can go for that.” Roque agreed.

“And that’s it, other than on behalf of the CIA I wanted to thank you, it was a slick operation. We’re really pleased with how this one turned out.”

The team exchanged looks and soft smiles, before Clay stood up.

“Okay, Losers. Let’s grab some more coffee and then we can regroup. Figure out what we do for the next two weeks.

Movement filled the room as they all stood to leave, and just as Stella had picked up her empty coffee cup, Evan cleared his throat.

“Stella, can I have a word?”

She hesitated and Jake turned to look at her. He opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off. “Jakey, it’s fine. Go, I’ll catch you up.”

He blinked, before he turned to Evan, the glare he gave him positively filthy before he turned and left the room. Evan and Stella stood still watching him go, before Stella turned to Evan, the man giving her a soft smile.

“You look well. Being happy suits you.” His tone carried no anger, and Stella found herself returning his smile before she sighed and shook her head.

“Listen Evan, I...”

“It’s okay Stella,” he spoke, holding his hand up, “I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to apologize. I was an asshole when you broke up with me.” Stella took a deep breath as he continued. “The way I acted and the things I said were horrible. My mother would be ashamed and I just ...” he shrugged. “I wanted to let you know I was sorry, that’s all.”

Slightly surprised at his outwardly contrite tone, Stella simply shook her head. “It’s okay. You were hurt. I hurt you.”

“Yeah you did but that doesn’t excuse the way I reacted. So, like I said, I’m sorry.” He smiled, gesturing with his hand to the door. “And I’m glad that you and Jake are, you know, making it work.”

As he spoke the final like, that tell-tale nerve in his jaw twitched a little and Stella knew that he wasn’t happy, at all. But, given that the rest of his apology had been genuine, she accepted the gesture for what it was.

“Thank you.” She gave a soft smile. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. I did like you Ev, it just…”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” He shrugged. “Yeah, I get that now. And hey, no hard feelings. If we hadn’t broken up I’d never have met Talia so…”

“Oh, you’re seeing someone?”

“Yeah.” Evan nodded. “It’s early days, we’ve had a few dates and been away for a weekend. She’s nice, I like her.”

“Good, well I hope it works out.” Stella smiled. There was a pause before she took a breath. “I better…” she jerked her hand towards the door and Evan nodded.

“Of course…”

“I’ll, erm, see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah, take care, Stella.”

“You too, Evan.”

With a final smile at one another, Stella left the room and headed back up the corridor. Jake was waiting outside for her, leaning against the wall of the building.

“All okay?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yeah.”

“What did he want?”

“To apologise for the way he acted when we broke up.” Stella shrugged. “That was it, oh, and he’s seeing someone else. Which is nice. I hope it works for him. He’s a good guy.”

Jensen made a non-committal noise in his throat and Stella looked at him. “Don’t start.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t need to.” Stella rolled her eyes. “Stop.”

“Okay, okay, sorry. I just, well, I don’t know what it is but I still don’t trust him, never have. He’s shady.”

“He’s an intel officer for the CIA.” Stella scoffed, taking Jake’s hand. “We’re a Black-Ops team. Far more shady than he is.”

“Suppose.” Jensen sniffed, as the two of them walked down the side of the building. As they went, Jensen suddenly had a sense of unease. Almost as if they were being watched. He turned his head to glance over his shoulder, but found no one. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head, telling himself he was being ridiculous. They were on a secure Military Base, probably the safest place they could be given the circumstances.

“You okay?” Stella asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” he assured her, “so, the rest of The Losers are in the coffee shop. Pooch is already on his phone checking out local bars, fancy hitting a few tonight?”

“Why not?” Stell grinned up at him, leaning up to place a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. Jake smiled, and pulled her closer as they headed off to join up with the rest of the team, casting a final glance over his shoulder, once more seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

**** Chapter 10

#too loose and you'll lose it #jake jensen #jake jensen x ofc #jake jensen x original female character #the losers #the losers fan fiction #jake jensen fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans characters

[yikesharringrove]

Steveikes to think he can hold his own in the bedroom with billy but as soon as Billy’s starts with his particularly nasty brand of dirty talk, calling his ass a pussy and a cunt, talking about how he wants to keep Steve in his bed open and ready for him 24/7, how he wants to fuck him over the hood of the camaro or have Steve ride him while he’s speeding down the highways,,, yeah Steve goes dumb with it, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he lets out a long and loud groan, mind racing with all the filthy shit billy keeps feeding him with

Steve’s never had any complaints.

The people he’s slept with have always been well and truly sated.

He likes taking care of his partners, making sure they finished, that they felt good and comfortable.

He loves pleasuring his partners, sucking dick or eating pussy, making them feel good.

So it’s not that he thinks he’s some sex god or something like that, but he’d definitely say he’s not bad.

And he figures going into it with Billy, he’d stand a chance. Get to share in the give and take that Steve’s sex life almost always is.

And that holds up the first few times they have sex. When kinks haven’t really come out to play yet.

Billy’s good. His stroke came is not to be doubted, and his cock is nice, thick and heavy. Makes Steve feel so good.

Plus, like, he’s really great to look at.

So yeah, Steve’s having a good time. Participating fully in sex.

Until one night.

After a party at Stacey Adams’ house.

They’re both a little crossed, and Steve feels loose, feels good, Billy on top of him, lazily kissing his neck.

He’s coherent, and in his body.

Until Billy takes his wrists, presses them in one hand to the pillow above Steve’s head.

And pins him down, using all that bulky muscle to keep Steve just where he wants him.

And Steve’s not a small guy.

But he’s never felt more little, more meek and overpowered as he felt in that moment.

And Billy leaned forward, biting harshly on his neck before muttering in his ear, his breath hot against Steve’s skin.

“Can’t wait to get into that little cunt ‘a yours. Gonna destroy that pussy and make you beg for more.”

And Steve has never moaned so fucking loud before.

His eyes practically rolled back, his body arching closer to Billy’s, his shoulders straining from where his hands are still pinned above his head.

Because fuck. That’s new.

The dirty talk, the cunt mention, the begging.

And Steve wants it. He wants Billy to take him as hard as he can, to make him feel full and fucking good, to open up his hole and tell him what a nice pussy he has.

He just has the overwhelming urge to make Billy feel good.

Not in the way he usually does, to carefully and expertly pleasure his partner.

He wants Billy to use his body anyway he wants to get off. He wants him to take and take and take, to make Steve oversensitive and incoherent. He wants Billy to call the shots. To take control.

Fuck, he wants to be dominated.

Billy had one hand holding both of Steve’s wrists above his head, the other hand was sloppily pouring lube between Steve’s spread legs, making it drip coldly down his balls, run along his crack.

It was sloppy, and Billy grinned when he tossed the lube away, pressing one hand down to feel over Steve’s hole, purring in his ear.

“You’re so wet for me. This get you goin’? When I hold you down like a bitch? That what makes your cunt drip?”

It was gross, and so very hot.

Steve doesn’t think he’s ever spoken to a girl like this. He’s pretty sure this is demeaning. And maybe that’s what makes it so good, the pure humiliation of it all.

“Tell me what you want, Sugar. Beg for it.”

Steve didn’t even have to think, Billy’s fingers gently circling his rim making him crazy and needy.

“Want you to finger me open, get me loose enough for your cock. Want you to fuck me hard. Fuck m-my, my pussy.”

His face burned, and his cock kicked, spitting precum over his stomach. Billy grinned. He pushed one thick finger forward, and Steve moaned loudly at the intrusion, the sweet pressure as he opened up for Billy.

“God, you’re so easy. Such a fucking slut. Don’t know how your pussy stays so tight, the way you gag for cock. Maybe I should just keep you nice and open then, what do you think? Tie you up in this bed, keep you plugged up and loose for me to use anytime I want. Nothing but a cocksleeve for me.”

“Yes, Billy, fuck. I want that. I want you to use me.”

Billy drew his finger out, pressing two in at once, pushing them in and spreading them open, making Steve’s toes curl.

“What will you let me do, Stevie? Let me fuck you in public? Bend you right over my car and take you in front of the whole fuckin’ town?”

“God, yeah. Show everyone what a whore I am for you.”

It was making Steve so goddamn hard, calling himself a whore. Being taken by one by now three of Billy’s fingers. Picturing himself being claimed, being fucked, in broad fucking daylight.

And then Billy’s fingers were gone, and Steve actually fucking whined.

“Really, Baby? You want my cock that bad?”

All Steve could muster was a pathetic little mmn-hmmn in confirmation.

Billy reached down to slick up his cock, sliding it along the excess lube all over Steve.

One little adjustment, and the blunt head of his dick was pushing against Steve’s hole, just teasing him, barely even breaching his rim.

Billy leaned forward over him, and Steve thought he was going in for a kiss, let his eyes flutter closed.

And something wet hit his cheek as Billy thrust forward, ramming his cock inside Steve the exact same moment he spat on him.

Steve cried out, his mind going blank as he writhed, back arching off the bed, shoulders flexing as Billy still held his arms over his head.

Billy was fucking him brutally, knocking the wind out of Steve with every buck of his hips.

It felt like Billy was everywhere, and Steve was just a drooling fucking mess, barely even registering the words coming out of Billy’s mouth.

“-filthy fucking slut. Just a wet hole for me to use. Don’t even give a fuck if you finish, just gonna fill your cunt with my cum, watch it drip outta you like some brain dead little bitch.”

It was so hot.

“B-Billy, feels so fu-ucking good,” Steve could barely get the words out as Billy rammed his cock in and out of him, stretching him so wide it was bordering on painful.

“Your little pussy’s so tight for me. So fucking wet, you’re makin’ a mess of the fucking bed. What’s Stacey gonna think? When she comes in here after the party and finds the sheets ruined. You think she’s gonna know? Know that it was King Steve who got sloppy enough to leave a goddamn puddle? Know that it was me who got you on your back? Stuffed my cock so far up your sweet cunt you won’t be able to sit tomorrow?”

“I-I want her to know. Want everyone to know.”

“To know what?”

“That I’m, you make me-I’m your slut. Want everyone to know how, how good you fuck me. And how w-wet my pussy gets for you,” Steve stuttered out, his cheeks burning.

And then the pressure on his wrists were gone, and all of a sudden Billy’s fist was closing tightly around Steve’s cock, stroking him in time with his rough thrusts.

“Should drive through town with you squirming on my cock.  Roll down the windows, blast the radio, and let everyone see what a mess you turn into for my dick inside you.”

Billy gave one final tug, and Steve nearly screamed, his entire body going tight as he came all over them, covering himself and Billy with his cum.

He felt exhausted after, boneless and absolutely fucking ruined.

But Billy kept going, still fucking into Steve just as rough, just as brutal, getting himself off.

“That’s right, Sugar. Just lie back and let me take care of myself. Just use your fuckhole to finish off and leave you so sloppy and wet.”

And he did just that, bucking a few more times against Steve, sucking a punishing hickey onto Steve’s neck, no doubt leaving a huge mark Steve would probably whine about tomorrow.

He pulled out of Steve, sitting back on his heels to watch as his own spunk dripping slowly and beautifully out of Steve’s hole, puffy and pink and abused.

He pressed a kiss to the inside of Steve’s knee, the music from the party thumping away through the walls of the random bedroom.

Billy helped Steve stand up, pulling his underwear and jeans up and on for him, even buckling his belt, planting another kiss to Steve’s belly.

Steve felt loose, felt tired and fucked out. He felt fucking amazing.

“How was that?” Billy felt more on the nervous side.

Steve had gone along with everything Billy was talking about, had even cum harder than Billy’s ever seen, but he’s not sure.

“So fucking good, Bill. Gonna make you do that again someday soon.

Billy grinned at him as he zipped up his fly, pulling his shirt back on over his shoulders.

“‘Course, Baby. Gotta treat my princess right.”

Steve smiled at him softly, and they leaned in together for one last kiss before finding their ways out of the bedroom, leaving at different times, hoping not to draw any suspicious attention to themselves.

Steve caught Billy’s eye from across the living room several minutes later, raising one eyebrow and jerking his head towards the front door. Billy nodded once, their signal for leaving the party and heading back to Steve’s for the night.

Billy got in his car, following Steve home from a distance, hoping with his whole heart that Steve still had some of his cum left in him, some that Billy could use his fingers to fuck in and out of Steve before only adding to the load.

#yikes writes #lemons #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove

[mrsalwayswrite]

Filthy Tease (Eugene Roe x f!reader)

I meant for this to be a spicy Roe piece but it kinda of took a different route than anticipated... oops? Anyway, i wanna dedicate this to @saritanotserena for giving me the idea but also cuz she is amazing! (sorry if this is awful, i still think i’m terrible at smut) also, not super edited cuz we die like men, alright?

Warning: sexual content- teasing & fingering & my poor attempts at dirty talk

Words:3700

Tag list: @happyveday @saritanotserena @sydney-m @evelynshelby

 There were many things most people were not aware of in regards to Easy Company's Eugene Roe. For example, he was terrified of bees. But instead of running away screaming, he would freeze and not move, barely breathing until he felt safe enough to move. Also, the man was obsessed with strawberries. He would pick them any day over chocolate or any other kind of dessert. When alone, he enjoyed quietly quoting poetry. He never did it in front of the men, for fear they would mock him. The biggest secret that would surprise people though?

 Eugene Roe was a filthy tease whose lips dripped sin and hands brought you to heaven with their touch. 

 And you were well acquainted with this side of him. 

 In Albourne, the replacements had begun calling you 'mama bear' shortly after you punched a Sergeant from a different company, who was picking on one of Easy's replacements. You also had the habit of checking up on them and trying to teach them extra things that training left out. You did not mind the nickname. Honestly, you thought it was sweet how all the boys took to you so. Since most of the Toccoa guys did not want anything to do with the replacements, you stepped up. 

 Unfortunately, all this extra attention from the replacements seemed to spark unnecessary jealousy from Roe. In the quiet moments you two managed to sneak away, you always tried to remind and show him how he was the only man who caught your eye. You would shower him with words of affection, hold him close and kiss him until he forgot his worries. You both hated that you had to keep your relationship a secret. You tried to remind him that this was only temporary. One day you could kiss and hold hands in public. One day you could stand before him in a white dress. One day you would make others jealous with the overwhelming love you had for each other. 

 But that was not today. Or in any sense of the foreseeable future. So you kept your relationship secret and tried to keep your affections on a slow simmer as to not alert the rest of the company. 

 After you started gaining more attention from the replacements, after you started spending more time with them…. Roe changed his tactics in reminding you of who always stole your breath and made you feel like a goddess on earth. 

 And that was how you learned he was a filthy tease. 

 It started off with simple things. He would walk past you and let his hand caress your ass for a fleeting moment before moving on to avoid drawing notice to the pair of you. Or if you sat next to one another to eat, he would place his hand on your knee or thigh underneath the table, giving you an occasional squeeze. If your hair got in your face, he would tenderly tuck it behind your ear or adjust your cap if your hands were full. It was sweet how tactical he was. Always seeking for a way to subtly touch you. 

 Then one day, you were walking with a couple of replacements back from the firing range, having been helping them with their accuracy. You saw Roe approaching, hands in his pockets, his eyes focused on you. He commented how he needed your advice for something and so you innocently followed him towards the small aid station set up in Albourne, having waved goodbye to the replacements. 

 As you passed a huge stack of empty boxes next to a brick building, he pushed you off the road and behind the boxes. You slammed against the brick wall, shock making you unable to cry out or demand about his actions. He had never been rough with you before. Concern and anger warned in you, unsure if something was wrong with him or he was being an asshole. When you leaned back, ready to demand what was going on, your words were cut off by his mouth covering yours and his tongue slipping between your lips. His body pressed against you, pinning you between him and the brick wall behind you. His mouth and touch dominated you, bringing you to the brink and turning you into a puddle of desire. Just as a whine left your throat, desperate for him to touch you where you needed him most, he pulled back. Through the haze of lust, you could see his lips swollen, eyes dilated, and chest rising and falling rapidly, matching your own. 

 "What…?" You stumbled out, your mind and body quaking with need. 

 "That's so ya don't forget." Even his voice was affected, more husky than normal. God, it sounded delicious and you wanted to taste it from the source again. 

 "Forget… forget what?"

 "Who makes ya feel good. Who can please ya… and who always wants ya." He stepped back, a smug smirk tugging on his lips. "See ya later, chéri." Then he walked away, back onto the road, hands in his pockets as if nothing had happened. As if he had not left you aching in need and obscenely wet. 

 You stayed there against the brick wall for longer than you would ever care to admit. Your heart hammered in your chest, the ache in your belly at an almost painful level, your breathing heavy in anticipation for what you thought was to come. But now you stood there… alone… and horny. 

 You thought maybe this was just a one-time thing. He had never done anything like this before. 

 Oh, how wrong you were. 

 A couple days later you sat in the back of a lecture room, Nixon at the front talking about something very important. But you could not hear a word he was saying. Oh no, because Eugene Roe was sitting next to you, whispering in your ear about all the dirty things he wanted to do to you in quite explicit terms. Half the stuff he whispered, you wondered where he even got the ideas. Soon enough, his words seeped into your mind as he painted such lewd images of the two of you. You had to press your thighs tightly together to deal with the growing ache. Something you were positive he noticed and delighted in. At one point, he even drew his finger slowly up from your knee to your hip as he whispered about sneaking into Sink's office and letting him fuck you over the man's desk. Once the lecture was over, Roe just gave you a wink and easily got up to walk away with the others heading out. You had to sit there for several minutes, taking long, deep breaths to try and will away the flush over your skin and suppress the pooling desire in your belly. 

 You could not decide if you loved or hated this new side of Roe. 

 Another time he asked for your help, that he might practice a new technique he read about in one of his medical books. You laid down on one of the beds in the aid station. The quiet chatting of a couple of the other medics behind the half-wall curtain filled the otherwise silent air from the other side of the station. Roe snuck a quick kiss to your lips making you giggle quietly and the two of you easily fell into a light-hearted conversation about a party being set up for the enlisted. Though as you two kept talking and he practiced wrapping and unwrapping various parts of your body, his hands began to…. wander. His fingers skimmed up your thighs, moving teasingly close to your groin then darting away. 

 At first you thought it was an accident and paid no mind, but after a couple times, you realized he was doing it on purpose. When you called him out on it, he pretended to have no idea what you were talking about. Then he told you he needed to practice working on a chest wound. Next thing you knew, he had the top several buttons of your army-issued jacket open, and he was laying a bandage on your exposed skin. His hands roamed across your chest, brushing your breasts with firm strokes. At one point he murmured something about giving you morphine and pretended to jab a syringe into your thigh; but as his hand moved back up, it grazed over your sex, leaving a fiery trail up your torso and back to your chest in its wake.  

 "Gene…" you moaned, unable to take it anymore, wriggling underneath his touch seeking friction. 

 He hushed you, wicked eyes glancing towards where the others were in the aid station. "Ya gotta keep quiet, pretty lady. Can ya do that for me?"

 You nodded but it was only half-hearted, your mind already drawing in the euphoric hunger he induced in you. His hands worked you- skimming, fondling, cupping and teasing- in all the ways that soon left you a quivering mess, biting down on your hand to keep the lascivious moans at bay. 

 The whole time he complimented and whispered to you, saying things that only seemed to heighten the experience. "Doin' so good, mon chéri, look at ya. Beautiful." Or "gotta keep quiet, pretty lady." Or "just imagine when I do this to ya, but with my tongue… I know ya taste so damn good. How's that feel, darlin'?"

 Finally, you were toeing the edge, body desperate to fall off that cliff. Your body vibrated with maddening want. "Gene, please…." You begged without shame; the desire, the need too great for you to care. 

 "Shhh...can't let 'em see ya like this." He cooed, one hand cupping your cheek while the other fondled your breast. "This is for me only, yeah? Say it, chéri."

 "Just you… just you, Gene."

 "Mmm… good girl." Then he finally slipped his skilled hand into your pants and pushed you off the edge. Your body drowned in bliss, mind hazy with pleasure. 

 This went on for weeks. Any opportunity he could pull you into a dark corner, push you against a wall, touch you, or drive you wild… he took full advantage of. 

 To everyone else, he still remained the quiet, slightly reclusive medic with a heart of gold and healing hands. 

 But to you… he was a fallen angel with the sole purpose to tempt you with that delightful Cajun accent and take control of you with those sinful lips and magical hands. 

 ***

 The atmosphere in the pub was jovial. Glenn Miller played in the background from the radio. The many voices of the paratroopers filled the pub, overshadowing the famous artist. The place reeked of beer, cigarette smoke and testosterone.  

 Buck, Luz, Toye and Heffron played darts in the corner. A few of the other Toccoa men heckled them and laughed at their own jokes, ignoring the replacements scattered about. The divide between Toccoa men and replacements felt like a terrible chasm. You tried to bridge it though. Floating between both parties, you laughed and cracked jokes with everyone while sipping on your beer. 

 This was the first time you had worn your WAAC uniform in months, reviving fond memories at its feel and look. You had started in the WAAC but then threw a series of unexpected encounters and circumstances, you eventually found yourself at Camp Toccoa training to be a paratrooper. Now, it felt odd to be wearing a skirt, stockings and kitten heels. You had become so used to your dirty ODs. Tonight though, you donned your skirt and heels, even going so far to put on some red lipstick. Who knew when the next chance you would have to dress up would be?

 "Come on, just one dance." Simmons was begging from the seat beside you, his boyish charm on full display, enhanced by the dimples in his cheeks. 

 You laughed, more amused than annoyed by his persistence. "No, if I dance with you then everyone else will expect a dance too."

 "Give it up, Peter." Burkle chuckled. "Mama bear ain't going out there."

 You pointed a finger at the dark-haired replacement across the table. "I knew there was a reason I liked you, Frank."

 "Ya hear 'bout the man who got caught joy-ridin' the other day?" Ralph Nestor changed the topic thankfully, leaning forward against the table, ready to spread the latest gossip. 

 Taking another sip of your beer, you listened but scanned the crowd around you. It was about time for you to move on to the next group. 

 As if sensing a pair of eyes burning into you, you swiveled your head trying to locate the gaze. It did not take long for you to meet the eyes of Eugene Roe. He sat with Spina and a few others at a table on the other side of the bar. He subtly tapped the empty spot next to him after he caught your eye. A warmth filled you. It was stupid since you knew he loved you but even here amongst a crowd, he wanted you by his side. 

 "Well, I'm off, fellas. Don't get too drunk tonight please… and if you do, make sure to keep all your clothes on. I'm looking at you, Private Burkle." You teased, watching the young man's face redden at the reminder, while the others laughed. Standing up, you brushed your skirt down, still unused to the feeling after so long. 

 "Yes, mama bear." A couple of them chorused. 

 You smiled. As you reached forward to grab your half-full beer glass, a hand slipped into yours and spun you around into a solid chest. "What?"

 Simmons held your hand as he placed his other on your waist. "Come on, one dance. I'll even keep my hands to myself."

 "Your hands wander at all, there's at least thirty men here who will rip your hands off for me if I ask."

 "Oh believe me, I know." He squeezed your hand, a cheeky smile on his face. "Please?"

 "Simmons, give it up!" Nestor said. "I see your platoon Sergeant looking over here."

 That got Simmons to freeze, glancing over his shoulder to see Guarnere with eyes narrowed at the two of you. 

 You laughed, pushing away from the replacement. "Better not piss your platoon Sergeant off. I'll be back for my glass." Swiftly, you moved in the direction of the bathroom, sending a wink Guarnere's way and receiving one in return. 

 The women's bathroom was small and cramped with two stalls, barely room to move, and a small counter with a sink. Either women did not frequent this pub much or this was awkwardly small to discourage women from lounging and socializing in here away from men. In your mind, it could go either way honestly. 

 After you finished your business, you stood at the sink washing your hands. The cool water soothed your skin after the heat in the pub. Looking up in the mirror, you saw your lipstick had faded and was slightly smudged. Most likely from the beer glass. Carefully, you tried to fix it using the tip of your finger. It seemed absurd, with everything you had been through- the training and combat you had seen- for you to be standing here worried about your smudged lipstick. Perhaps it would not have felt so odd if you stayed in the WAAC instead of joining the paratroopers. 

 Behind you, the bathroom door opened which surprised you. You thought you had been the only woman at the pub tonight. Maybe a few local women showed up? You looked up into the mirror, prepared to greet the woman. After the person stepped through, your jaw dropped and eyes widened. For it was not a local woman in a pretty dress that stepped in.  

 It was Eugene Roe. 

 "What are you doing in here, Gene?" You looked at him through the mirror. "Is the men's bathroom full?"

 Instead of verbally responding, you watched him latch the simple lock over the door. Your movements stilled as you realized what he just did. 

 "Gene?"

 In a single stride, he came up behind you, putting his arms out on either side of you, caging you between the sink and his body. 

 "Darlin'," he crooned in your ear as his lips left a trail of sweet heat along your neck. "Ya look too damn sexy out there. I see ya legs in those heels and skirt and all I can think about is how good they feel wrapped around me as I pound into ya."

 Your skin felt feverish as the heat radiated off his body. Even through all the layers between you two, your body soaked it in like the parched ground after a thunderstorm. With the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin and his filthy words, your womb clenched from that alone. 

 "Then I see that boy with his hands on ya… shit, it took everythin' for me to not rip him off ya."

 "He didn't mean anything, Gene. I promise."

 "Don't matter. I hate it." His hands gripped the hem of your skirt, slowly pulling it up and bunching it around your hips. He began laying open-mouth kisses along your neck, the whole time his eyes holding yours, as you watched him in the mirror. "I need to 'ear ya sing, pretty lady, I need to 'ear ya gorgeous sounds."

 "Gene…" you moaned out, your eyelids fluttering. That delicious warmth, that only he could fuel, began growing in your belly. "We can't right here." 

 "Shall we find out?"

 Without preamble, one of his hands slipped under your skirt, the other still bunching the fabric up around you and out of the way. You hissed slightly as he touched your bare core, unable to completely hide the smirk on your face as he gave a slight groan. 

 "Mon chéri, where ya skivvies at? Ya been out there this whole time with no underwear on?" 

 "I wanted to surprise you… I thought you might try something."

 "Fuck!" He bit your earlobe and ground his hardening cock against your ass. "Ya tryin' to tease me? Mmm?"

 Before you could retort something smart back at him, you gasped as he slipped a finger into you, finding you already wet for him. 

 "Look at ya, sweetheart, so fuckin' beautiful right now." He murmured, eyes not having left yours in the mirror this whole time, pining you even more so than his body still caging you. 

 With one hand, you grabbed the sink to anchor yourself, your legs turning into jelly beneath you from the onslaught of pleasure coursing through your veins. "Gene, please." You begged. 

 Eyes boring into yours, he pulled his finger out of you, drawing a whiny whimper from your lips. With a salacious smirk, he opened his mouth and placed his pointer and middle fingers in his mouth, making sure to swirl his tongue around them then pulled them slowly out. 

 "Holy fuck…"

 Still smirking, he reached down and slipped both fingers into you. They plunged in and out of you, the wet sounds lewdly echoed in the small bathroom. Roe continued to grind against you from behind, timing it to match with the thrusts of his fingers. You wanted to close your eyes, to sink into the heat bubbling in you. But you were unable to for Roe watched you with a heated, heavy gaze in the mirror. Your gazes locked as he brought you closer and closer to your climax, moans and sighs slipping from your lips. 

 "Good girl, mon chérie, so beautiful. Look at ya."

 He continued to whisper in your ear in between leaving open-mouth kisses and bites on your neck and jaw. 

 "Ya close, sweetheart? I can feel it, so close."

 "Oh God, please, Gene…. Don't stop. Please."

 With a dark chuckle, he gave one last flick to your clit and pushed you over the edge. As you opened your mouth, he slammed his mouth over yours, greedily swallowing your cry of bliss. You floated on waves of ecstasy; your eyes closed to soak in the sensations. Eventually you opened your eyes, even if the movement felt sluggish and your body limp. 

 "There's those gorgeous eyes." Roe nuzzle your temple. "Ya back with me?"

 "Mmm… I think so."

 He chuckled. "Think ya can stand?"

 That was when you noticed he was practically holding you up between an arm now wrapped around your waist and you still pinned between him and the sink. 

 "Sorry." You mumbled, standing up on shaky legs. When you noticed his cocky smirk, you languidly swatted at him. "Shut up." Slowly you turned around to look at him. It did not escape your notice his… um… large problem he was sporting in his trousers. 

 "You know… the couple I am billeted with, they left this afternoon for a weekend in London visiting family."

 "Oh? Well, that is interestin' news."

 "Uh huh. What's the likelihood we can sneak out of here unnoticed?"

 He leaned down to press his lips against yours, drawing a soft sigh from you at the sweetness in the kiss. "Very likely… Guess we'll find out though."

 "And what's the likelihood we'll actually make it to the house before you try to get under my skirt again?"

 "Less likely."

 You laughed, pressing a hand to his chest to push him back. Running a hand over your skirt, you tried to smooth it out as much as possible and hide any evidence of your tryst. 

 "Ready?"

 "Always."

 The two of you somehow managed to sneak out of the bathroom and out of the pub without drawing notice to yourselves. As you stepped out into the night, walking quickly down the street, you both were giggling like teenagers having snuck out of your parents' homes. He snagged your hand and pulled you along, almost jogging down the silent road in Albourne. 

 Before you even made it halfway to your billeted house, Roe pulled you into a dark corner, just off the road. You laughed before his mouth covered yours, silencing you and turning your laughter into moans. 

 You did not mind too much. 

#band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #eugene roe #eugene roe x reader #doc roe #doc roe x reader #mzwrites

[kerie-prince]

We're Worlds Apart (2)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj!reader

series m.list | general m.list | previous chp

warnings: light cursing, mentions of death, angsty Draco

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

(gif not mine)

The surrounding neighbors have been very nice; one elderly couple walked up to Draco’s door with an apple pie, quite the American staple, and he seemed to appreciate it. They seemed normal and sweet. Much unlike the feeling he had for his neighbor. Y/N. He hasn't made any attempts in the month that he's lived in the small suburban neighborhood to see her. He avoided her like she was a deadly plague.

Albeit, it was probably harsh and extremely childish. The whole point of him becoming a new person was changing his views he had been taught in adolescence. Or else why did he help Harry Potter all those years ago when he swore he hated him?

It was currently around 3 in the morning, he was standing in his backyard and made sure no one would be awake as he sent his owl to send a letter to his best friend, Blaise. He was the only person who still contacted Draco on a regular basis besides the occasional letter from Theodore. Gregory cut all contact with Draco after the Battle, especially since Vincent had died that night in the fire in the Room of Requirement. Pansy was living her life somewhere, and although the Golden Trio had forgiven Draco for his actions, it didn't start any friendships. But Draco was fine; Blaise and Theo had been there for him in more ways he cares to admit.

He never mentioned a word about Y/N to Blaise until now when he asked what Draco’s American neighbors were like. Majority of the letter contained contents of how work has been, the differences in not only culture but also how things are called, and just his own well being. He did say something short for the elderly couple, but when it came to Y/N he had a lot to say.

These muggles are far different from the ones in England, Blaise. They know things about the magic world but input a fantasy in their heads. They believe they can actually practice witchcraft and wizardry, calling themselves “Wiccan” or whatever rubbish it is. Bloody hell, they even have films and tv programs of them. My neighbor is one of these and she does the most ludacris things in her house. Quite laughable, really. If Salazar was alive today to see this happening, I’d bet he’d curse the whole lot.

She had been lingering in his mind since that day of his discovery. It was annoying him. Every night, he would catch her in her room doing whatever the hell she was doing and he felt as if the universe was mocking him. This is what people think what you really are was the message he got from it all. Draco never thought something like this would make him feel like a freak. But he did. This act of hers was an indirect insult of what he was capable of. And she had no idea.

—

It was a fine autumn morning. The shop was closed today, so you had lots of time at home to catch up with cleaning. You stood over your bathroom sink brushing your teeth and saw from the reflection of your mirror your cat stretching herself before walking into the bathroom to rub herself on your legs. “Good morning, Aurora,” you cooed at her. She purred in response and ran off to her tower in the living room.

After getting changed into some comfortable clothes, you walked up to a closet in the hallway that had collections of crystals, oils, sage bundles and more. “Let’s see, where did I put the angelica root?” you asked out loud to yourself. Going through the shelves, you pulled some sea salt, ground lemon balm, ground angelica root, and a feather. You carried the items outside in a bowl to your backyard and set them at a small garden table. Walking over to your garden, you pulled some elderberry flowers and started your cleansing spell.

You sprinkled the salt onto a censor dish and placed a charcoal dish on it and lit it up. In the bowl you had used to carry the items out, you started mixing the herbs together as you waited for the charcoal to burn red. Once it did, you sprinkled the herbs on top, creating a cleansing incense. You picked it up from the bottom of the censor dish, picked up the feather and made your way steadily to your front door, lightly wafting smoke towards it. Reaching your front door, you drew a pentagram over it with the feather and smoke,

“Be gone negativity,

Here now blessed be.”

You repeat your incantations throughout the house until you have finished and walked back to your living room, drawing one last pentagram. You placed your feather and censor dish on the bare floor, stood up and tapped your foot three times,

“By my will, so shall it be.

Sealed now shall this cleansing be.”

You sat on your couch and turned on the television, waiting for the incense to burn out so you could scatter it around your backyard. After a couple of hours of watching a guilty pleasure of yours, you decided to get some actual cleaning done. First thing was to do some trimming and gardening outside, so you grabbed some gloves and headed out back to your yard.

Before grabbing your garden scissors, you looked up and saw something rather strange. There was an owl in your neighbors yard. In broad daylight. From the backyard, you heard a car pull in and peeked over the fence to see that it was your neighbor coming home. You ran to the front leaving a dirt trail in your house and ran out the front door.

He hadn’t walked in yet, so you started waving your arm, “Hello! I’m Y/N!”

He had just nodded his head and walked a straight line to his door. Not wanting to lose this chance of having a conversation with him, you yelled for him one more time, “There’s an owl in your yard!” His eyes widened and without a word, he ran into his house in a panic. From a distance, you heard him say 'shit' before closing the door.

Building up confidence, you walked up to his door and knocked a few times and patiently waited. You fixed your hair and stood surprised as he hastily opened the door. “H-hi! It’s so nice to meet you, I'm Y/N,” you stretched your hand out to shake his hand. He looked at it and had a displeased look, causing unease within you. Looking at your hand, you noticed you still had your gardening gloves on with dirt on it.

“Oops, sorry!” you chuckled as you took it off and reached out again.

Again, he just looked at you with a straight face for a couple of seconds before finally speaking, “Look, I’m really busy, so if you don't mind.” He shut the door without giving you any chance to say anything back. You stood there in shock, replaying his British voice in your head. And as you stood there, you wondered why it is that he doesn't want to talk to you. The Charles couple across from your house were able to introduce themselves, and even got a smile from him. But for some reason, you could never get the same treatment.

—

Ian had proposed to Draco a housewarming party during lunch. Of course Draco had never been to one, much less hosted one.

“It’s alright, boss. I can fix all the arrangements up. All you gotta do is relax,” Ashley proposed. To say that Draco is extremely happy is an understatement. He had friends that actually enjoyed his company and not his influence. Not that he had much of that anyway.

America was really working out for him; work was great, people were nice, and the area he lived in was peaceful. Yes, he didn't like his neighbor, but she wasn't ruining his life in this new country. He just didn't like what she did.

“Thank you, Ashley. And you know you can just call me ‘Draco’.”

“I know,” she replied. Ashley grabbed her Blackberry phone and started drafting up an email, asking for his address so she could let people know where it would be. “Is this Friday a good time?”

“Yes, that should be fine. I don't have any plans that day.”

“Great, it's sent out to everyone in our department. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an attending to watch over for a surgery. See you guys later!” Draco, Blaine and Ian waved at Ashley as she left.

Blaine left soon after, leaving Ian with Draco. “Alright man, how’s it going on your street? Are you finally settled in?”

“I finally got the last of my things delivered from London yesterday. I was a bit nervous though. That mugg— I mean No-Maj neighbor of mine saw my mum’s owl in my yard. Thankfully, she didn't ask any questions,” Draco said as he cleared his lunch tray.

“Wait, you still use an owl? Ha, I didn’t think people still did,” Ian chuckled. “Well, of course I do. Do you not?”

“No, most wizards here in the States just use the usual ground post that No-Maj’s use. Things are a bit more modern around here. Speaking of your neighbor actually, have you ever spoken to her?”

Draco shrugged nonchalantly and said a simple ‘No’ when he really wanted to scrunch his nose and eyebrows in disgust and say ‘Fuck no.’ Ian, however, is gifted in Legilimens. He heard what Draco really meant but kept to himself. I guess things are different in the UK he thought.

—

“Hello my dear baby, I just wanted to call and give you a heads up; your brother and I are coming for Thanksgiving. He’s bringing Stephanie so do me a favor, please no witchy stuff.”

The voicemail played out loud in the kitchen. Please no witchy stuff. Your mother had repeatedly explained to you that she was okay with ‘it’ all, but growing up you never really got on the same page with her. And you knew it was because of your practice. Your younger brother would say comments every now and then when you grew up, but he always stood up for you when other people called you a ‘satanic freak’. But never once did you regret starting the Craft. You enjoyed it and it made you feel whole.

It had been a week since your encounter with your, now known British, neighbor. It bothered you a lot that he didn’t seem to want to get to know you. You were lost in your thoughts that you almost didn’t notice the doorbell going off. You answered the door and saw your neighbor.

“Hi dear, do you think you could help me and my husband with something?” Mrs. Charles smiled sweetly at you. “Of course, what can I do for you?”

“My grandson is coming in from Vermont, would it be alright if you could give us a ride to the airport? I’d ask Draco but he’s always busy at work and I don’t want to be a bother.”

Draco? “I’m sorry, who’s that?” you had a confused look.

“Our new neighbor, dear. I thought you had met him already. You two are the same age after all,” she informed you. Draco. How unique. You instantly recognized the name from the star constellation. It was nice to finally put a name to a face. Distracted again, Mrs. Charles waited for your answer, “Y/N? Can you do it?”

“O-oh, sorry. Of course I’ll help. Frankie was his name, correct?”

“Yes, it’s Frankie. Thank you so much. His flight comes in on Friday. I’ll see you then,” you wished her a good night and looked out your window to make sure she crossed the street safely. The rest of the night consisted of you and and your cat laying on your couch watching TV, but what was on the screen didn’t have your attention. Draco did. And you had no idea why.

—

“Dude, why do you not have a TV?” Blaine looked around Draco’s house and studied the arrangements he had. It was quite plain, almost minimalistic. Looking around, Draco couldn’t help but think how different it was from the Manor back in London. Instead of grand chandeliers, moving portraits of the Malfoy’s before him, and intricate designs on the walls, he had simple white walls with just one moving picture of him, Blaise and Theo a couple minutes before a Quidditch game against Ravenclaw. He had a bookshelf full of old school books from Hogwarts and some small relics he liked from the Manor.

“I’ve never had one growing up, and once I moved here I just never gave any second thought of it. Besides, what would I even watch?” Draco replied. Despite having one letter off from being the same name as his best friend, Blaine reminded Draco of Theo. They were both funny and outspoken. He would’ve loved for them to have met. They’d probably get on.

A few moments later, Ashley and Ian knocked on Draco’s door. The door was unlocked for them to be able to open the door. They looked around the living room before settling onto the couches. “Okay so I was thinking that we can just have some trays of snacks and desserts with some champagne. Does that sound good to you guys?” Ashley suggested. They just nodded along to whatever she said. She had gone to the store with Blaine to get everything prepared before the party tonight.

Ian looked at the pictures of Draco with his friends and one of his mother that laid on top of a chimney. “Do you still have lots of friends from Hogwarts?”

Draco thought about it, “You know, I actually didn’t have a lot of friends back in school. Back then, I only hung out with probably six people. But now it’s just two.” He sounded a bit sad, but figured that two were better than none.

“Do you think of what happened a lot?” Ian implied about that day at Hogwarts. He had been the only one that Draco trusted enough to tell. “Sometimes,” Draco gave a short reply. The action of opening up was still new to him, but he knew he shouldn’t wallow in it. Plus he’d rather have a friend instead of a doctor to talk about it.

Ian really felt bad for Draco. It must have been really traumatizing for someone to go through something like that at just the age of 17. Sure, Draco wasn’t the best person at the time. Who is he kidding, he was probably the biggest git in the whole school. It didn’t necessarily mean that he had to go through what he did. He lost one of his friends in a fire, and one left him after said friend died. Another left for no apparent reason. And another wanted something different in her life. Those things affected Draco, and probably will for the rest of his life.

He didn’t pity Draco, but was feeling sympathetic. “Well if it makes you feel any better, I don’t have much friends from Ilvermorny. It sucks now, but hey, down the line you get new ones.” Ian held a fisted hand out, waiting for Draco to bump it. It made him laugh as he bumped Ian’s fist.

Outside, Ian looked out to see a certain neighbor walk to her car. “Hey, is that that chick you were talking about?” Draco looked out the window and saw you grab some things out of your trunk and into your house. “Yeah, that’s her.” Ian never really pressed on Draco to explain why he didn’t like his No-Maj neighbor like he did the elderly couple across the street.

“Well, I gotta say. She’s a sight for sore eyes for a weirdo.” She’s a what? Beyond the nightly activities he had caught you doing on occasion in your bedroom, he never really looked at your face. Or really just at you. But now that Ian mentioned something, he started studying you. She’s not so bad looking— wait, what are you thinking?

By accident, Ian snorted at the words Draco thought. “Did… did I say that out loud?” Draco asked with suspicion in his voice. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t really mean to be invading your mind or anything. It runs in my family,” Ian laughed nervously.

“It’s okay. My godfather was also good at Legilimens and Occlumency. I’m pretty sure he’s heard worse during his classes. Come on, I’ll give you a full tour of the place.”

“If the other rooms are anything like the living room, I’m sure I’ve seen the whole place then,” Ian joked.

“Piss off.” As Ian walked towards the bathroom, Draco looked back outside to see you again. He watched as you helped the Charles couple in your car and drove off to Merlin knows where.

—

The party was rather fun. It lasted until almost 1 in the morning. He thanked Ashley for handling everything and spent the night talking and laughing with his colleagues. Once everyone left, he changed into comfortable sweats and a plain black t-shirt. Out on his bedroom window was Blaise’s owl with a sealed letter. He quickly opened the window, grabbed the letter and looked out to make sure no one was watching. Your room was dark and it seemed as the drapes were down. He guided his friends’ owl with his hands to a small, make-shift owl post against the fence that separated your yards. It had food and was enchanted to be at a comfortable temperature. His owl laid on one side of the post, resting as Blaise’s owl joined it.

Draco opened the letter and read its contents to himself.

Well mate, I’m glad you’re having a good time in America. There’s not much going on here in London. I’m just working at Gringotts until something opens up at the Ministry. Not really sure what I want to do, but I’ll figure it out. Anyways, I think you’ll be pleased to hear that Theo and I are going to be joining you for the holidays. Theo got a hold of a couple American muggle films and he figured that if the women there were as fit as the actresses, then you must be living the best life and he wants to join. As for that muggle neighbor of yours, I can’t wait to see her in person. We’ll see you, Malfoy.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw lights turn on in your room and your shadow walk around before turning off once more. Sorry Blaise, but there’s no way in hell you’ll meet her.

—

Frankie’s flight was delayed, causing you to get home so late. You were extremely tired and your feet and back were sore. Usually, you’d take a bath with some salts and oils to relax yourself, but tonight you were really lazy. So lazy that you just shook your shoes off and plopped yourself on the bed.

The second you hit the mattress, you dozed off. Your mind was wandering and found yourself dreaming.

You sat in your backyard in a pretty sundress. There was a slight breeze in the air and you held a cup of coffee in your hands. Someone sat at the chair opposite you and blocked the sun’s light in your face. You looked next to you and saw your friend smiling at you.

Draco.

—

next chp

(っ◔◡◔)っ taglist: @beiahadid @malfoy-styles-wife @fivenightslaughter @juneballoon999 @leydileyla

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy au #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x muggle!reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x female reader #draco x muggle!reader #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco x reader

[munamania]

happy hawkins holiday hiatus to @mikewheelerthepaladin !! here’s a lighthearted fic + a playlist of songs i listened to a lot while writing, i hope you enjoy 🥳

& a big thank you to @sevensided for putting this together, it’s been super fun <3

It’s the first time he’s been in over a year, really, but he’d entertained the thought of asking Will over the summer, for one last challenge before he left. It never happened, everything went by too fast; and, honestly, Mike didn’t know how to talk to him with the goddamn weight of everything - hi, we’ve barely spoken in the last year and we just almost died, again, and now you’re moving away forever - wanna hang out?

It’s the first time he’s been in over a year, really, but he’d entertained the thought of asking Will over the summer, for one last challenge before he left. It never happened, everything went by too fast; and, honestly, Mike didn’t know how to talk to him with the goddamn weight of everything - hi, we’ve barely spoken in the last year and we just almost died, again, and now you’re moving away forever - wanna hang out?

It’d never been that hard.

And it sucked. The whole thing. Now that Will is gone, it gnaws at him daily that they could have had more time together. Or a proper goodbye, at least. Instead, he spent a lot of time last summer sitting around, figuring out how to approach El and his feelings toward her, and most of all, alone.

But now the Byers are coming home for Christmas. And staying with The Wheelers, on top of it all.

So, seeking some sort of cryptic universal answer to his life problems, Mike returns to the place of a lot of younger memories, of crowding around machines with Lucas and Dustin and Will, a conglomeration of shouting and booing and cheering when one of them topped a high score, of frantically patting down their pockets for a few extra coins.

All of these wistful memories come to halt, however, when he finds a familiar redhead occupying one of their favorite games.

Max glances at him through the screen. “What do you want?”

“Uh, to play?” Honestly, he doesn’t care; he’s not sure he could focus enough to win much anyway. “Kicking your ass would be a plus.”

“Yeah, as if.” Her gaze fixes back on the colorful pixels dancing in front of her face.

Okay, well, she’s not moving anytime soon. He could probably just walk away, but a part of him wants company, even if it’s from someone hellbent on disagreeing with him.

Even when the Party hangs out now, Mike finds himself bickering with Max over what movies to see, where to eat, nearly anything, even when he doesn’t really give a shit. It’s the principle of the thing, and she gets under his skin. 

Maybe it’s a good thing.

Mike sighs, leans against one of the neighboring games, and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I don’t really know why I’m here.”

“Well, if you’re looking for me to throw pity money at you, it’s not happening.” After a beat, and losing the level, she kicks at the machine and turns to him. “Now look what you made me do. All your moping and talking - I could’ve beaten that if you would just leave me alone.”

He offers a quarter.

“Forget it.”

“I’ll buy you a pop, then.” She glares at him. “Seriously, okay, this is the first and only olive branch. Take it or leave it.”

After a moment of scowling at him, her arms folded, she slowly concedes, a smug look taking over. “Okay. I’ll take it, Wheeler.”

“So, you’re stalking me at the arcade because… of nothing?”

Mike presses his lips into a line. “I’m not stalking you,” he says, “and it’s not - it’s not nothing. I was gonna ask Lucas or Dustin to come, but… I felt like I needed to be here alone.”

Max sips on her drink. “That didn’t work out.”

“Guess not.”

“So you did need to talk to someone.”

“Guess so.”

God, this is borderline painful. Sitting in a shoddy little booth across from Max, whom he never once intended to have a heart-to-heart with, is a new level of desperation. But here they are.

With the most grandiose sigh he’s ever heard in his life, Max straightens in her chair. “Well, I don’t love giving advice to annoying teenage boys, but I’ve been told I’m good at it. Advice, you know.”

Mike raises an eyebrow. “Was it El who said that, by chance?”

“Bite me.”

Amused, Mike smiles, and he slides the near-empty cup between his hands like a little game, something else to focus on. “Okay, fine, give me some advice.”

Max frowns at him like he’s the biggest idiot in the world. “Maybe give me a situation to work with?” She mutters something under her breath that he doesn’t bother with.

“Well, the Byers are coming home and staying with us, and I wanted to come up with something really nice to do, you know. I know that they’re really nervous because it’s… the holidays have been rough, the past few years.” He finishes his drink and stares at the lid. “They almost refused. So, I dunno, I figured I could do something to make them feel like it’s still home.”

“Oh,” Max nods, finally breaking into a slight smile, “well, cool, you could set up something really romantic for El! She’d love it.”

Right. The girlfriend. 

He had no clue where the hell they left things when the Byers moved. About a month ago, Mike called to tell her the distance was confusing and they might need to take a break. He figured she would’ve told Max because, from his understanding, they spoke on the phone on an almost daily basis.

“Sure - yeah, yeah, that’s - it’s a good idea. For sure.”

Max falls back into a confused squint. “Was there something else you had in mind?”

Mike isn’t sure how to get it out without sounding like a total airhead. So he copes with it the best way he can. “You know what, this was dumb. I’ll figure it out myself.” He grabs his jacket and stands to leave.

“No, no, Mike - I want to help.” She’s looking up at him with a genuinely nice expression, holding out a hand to stop him from fully up and leaving. “I’m really good at this stuff, just let me know what I can do. No judgment. I swear.”

“I have to get home tonight anyway,” Mike says cautiously. “Told my mom I’d help with dinner.”

“Can I come over tomorrow?”

He frowns, and something digging at his stomach makes him respond with, “Why do you care?”

Max’s jaw sets. She stands up to meet his eye level and sets a look on him. “Even if I didn’t, even if I couldn’t care less about you, Mike, I care about El. And Will. And I want to be a part of their homecoming. So maybe you could figure out a way to not be a dick about it.” She snatches her drink cup and storms off from the table, leaving Mike to scramble after her with more apologies.

He’s gotta get better at this whole ‘girls’ thing.

He catches up to her outside. “Okay, listen - come over after school tomorrow. We can meet outside by the stairs.”

She barely turns to him, says, “Fine,” and then hops on her bike and rides away.

That’s how Mike ends up with Max in his basement, slowly walking and examining his things, but not touching any of them, thankfully.

It’s going alright, thus far. A part of him feels like he should reach out to Lucas and Dustin, too, since they’re also Will’s best friends. But something about this… works. He and Max can’t seem to stay entirely civil in each other’s company, but she gets something. And she hasn’t brought up El even once since yesterday.

“So, I’m gonna come up with a really cool campaign - well, I’ve been working on it, and I can tell you about it - “ Max lifts herself on tiptoe in his peripheral vision, “ - but anyway, we can pull an all-nighter, if everyone’s up for it, and make snacks and drinks and stuff, and we can have movies on for you guys, and I thought I might even look for some costumes because I really think Will would get a kick out of it. I can put lights up, too - “

“You draw?”

Max’s back is to him, as she’s looking over his wall of posters and pinned pictures. As he steps closer, he realizes her eyes are fixed on a sketch that definitely bears some resemblance to him.

“No, Will sent me those,” he says quickly, not wanting to seem like a giant narcissist, because Will’s drawing is - how can he say it - beautiful. “He’s been using charcoal a lot recently, he told me he got some new art stuff. I think he wants to send one of all of us.”

Max turns to him, and he can’t tell if she’s tearing up for some reason, but she quickly wipes any sign of tears away. “That’s so neat,” is all she says at first. There’s a small silence between them, and she’s just looking at him, and he has no idea what the hell he should say. “He’s such a good person,” she adds quietly, “I wish I got the chance to really know him.”

Mike’s breath hitches for a few seconds. “Yeah. I mean, he mentioned hanging out with you a few times.”

A smile lifts the girl’s cheeks. “Yeah, to bitch about you, mostly.”

“Hey!” he protests, but he can’t help but smile too, this time. This might just be their most pleasant interaction to date. “He never mentioned that.”

“I don’t know how he could, all you freakin’ do is talk.”

“Whatever.” Mike messes with some Christmas crafts on the table, holding them up in his vision to see where they might fit in the basement. He clears his throat. “You know, El and I, uh - we split.”

Max nods slowly. “She said you guys don’t call much.”

“No, we didn’t. I mean, I don’t even call Will, we just write.” He leans against the table, eyes glazing over as he looks over years of memories, dorky craft nights, and shitty school projects that he or his mom made a point to keep. “It’s too hard to talk - to either of them, you know. I didn’t think I could hear their voices without…”

Max cuts him off. “I get it.” She crosses over to the table, helping him pull apart old paper snowflakes. “I’m just the opposite. I’m scared if I don’t talk to them, I’ll convince myself it was all fake. And maybe it’d be for the better, but I’m glad I knew them. Even if only for a little while.”

Mike bites down on his lips, attempting to bury all the emotion threatening to spew out of him. “Yeah.”

Max finally looks up at him, and though they seem to have shared a moment, she snaps back out of it. “All offense, Mike, these are ugly as shit. I’m helping you make new ones, okay?”

“It’s for the memory!”

“No more living in the past.” She raises her eyebrows at him, and he pinches his face in annoyance, so she says, “Okay, you can put them up, in like, little corners, but we’re making new ones. Surprise. Work with me here, Michael.”

“It’s my basement, Max.”

“Did you or did you not ask for my help?”

Mike blinks. “Not really.”

She throws a crafty paper star at him. “Shut up, you’re glad I’m here.”

He shakes his head and moves on, but though he may never admit it, a part of him really is glad.

Weeks pass in what feels like a span of days or maybe hours, with Mike and Max sorting out their surprise plans with a typical amount of bickering - but hey, they get it done. Max has lots of opinions about decorations and music that make Mike roll his eyes, but she’s got a good eye and she offers to help with baking, which is not a strong suit of his. Yes, they throw a lot of streamers at each other, and threaten to storm out every other hour, but it gets done.

And the day is finally here.

Mike pulls himself into his best festive sweater and eyes himself in the mirror. He messes with his hair, though the long, wavy curls never seem to fall exactly into place - maybe growing it out was a mistake - and tugs at the creases of his sweater, letting out a huffy breath. None of it is working with him. When he can’t stand looking at himself anymore, he dashes down to the kitchen to help his mom with desserts.

She smiles when he plops into a seat. “You okay, honey? You seem a little tense.”

Mike jolts. “Uh, yeah, just excited.”

“Good! Joyce said the kids haven’t stopped talking about the trip for weeks.”

Great. “I hope we live up to the hype.”

“Oh, Mike. You know you don’t have to try that hard.” Karen stops frosting for a moment to look at him. “Will’s your best friend. El is excited to see you,” she nudges at him, and he coughs out a nervous laugh, “and Joyce thinks you’re an angel-”

“God, mom-”

“I’m serious. Don’t worry so much.” She leans forward on her forearms. “I know you think every problem in the world is on you, but it’s not. It’s enough just to be around the people you love. If anything, you’ve gone overboard.”

Overboard. Hopefully, it’s not too much.

Finally, he caves, exhaling slowly with a simple, “Okay.” He stays beside her, tapping his fingers, and eventually ruining a gingerbread man’s face until she notices and smacks his hand away.

There’s a knock on the door, and while Mike hops to his feet, his mother calls out, “Come in!” earning a panicked look from him. She mouths, ‘Chill,’ but he still half-jogs to the door and throws it open.

Nancy calls down the stairs, “Who is it?”

It’s Max, brandishing a few small wrapped gifts.

“Hello, sunshine,” she says. After a moment, “It’s great to see you too, Michael, allow me to invite myself in.”

“It’s just Max,” Mike calls back. He steps aside, and Max brushes past him, dropping her gifts by their tree and running into the kitchen. 

“Hi, Mrs. Wheeler!”

“Hey, Max, Merry Christmas!”

Mike’s mom seemed to think Max was one of the most charming people on the planet, something they frequently disagreed on, but he can’t be mad at their pleasant chatter right now.

Especially not when the next knock comes so soon.

Probably just Lucas and Dustin, dragging their feet as usual.

Mike opens the door, prepared with a quippy remark for his friends, but his stomach drops immediately.

It’s Will. Holding a bunch of luggage.

Mike is caught up in everything about him. He’s taller. New, floppy hair, tousled and messy in the biting snowy winds. His forearms exposed as his bags push against his jacket. Will.

The boy smiles at him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Mike manages.

Will looks past him with a tiny wave, and Mike turns to see Max beaming and waving back, and then Max slips back into the kitchen and Will returns his gaze to Mike. “Can I come in?”

“Hey, Mike!” Joyce interrupts from the car, straining to grab something in the backseat. “Merry Christmas, honey!”

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Byers!” Mike, finally catching up his brain-to-movement reactions, moves to let Will in. “Yeah, come in. I’m gonna, uh, go help your mom.”

“Cool.”

He immediately forgets why he’s moved and attempts to step out as Will crosses the threshold, almost knocking him over, so Mike grabs his arms to stabilize with a, “Sorry - uh - whoops, haha, don’t fall,” and Will chuckles and shifts a bag to his shoulder, saying, “It’s alright,” and Mike spends his walk to the Byers’ car trying not to curse himself out.

“Oh, Mike, thank you, sweetie,” Joyce grunts, pulling a heavy tote bag from the floor of the car. “Can you carry this?” Mike nods and takes it from her easily, offering his arms out for extra luggage. Together, with Jonathan, who greets him with a, “Merry Christmas, man,” they manage to get everything inside in one trip. Mike hardly notices El rummaging through the trunk until she comes stumbling along with a basket full of gifts.

Finally, they’re all inside, and only a beat goes by before Nancy comes bounding down the stairs to greet Jonathan, and Joyce is grinning around at everybody, and then Karen rushes in from the kitchen with excited greetings.

“It is so good to see you,” Joyce says, opening her arms up to Mike for a hug. “You’ve grown so much-'' she looks at Karen and mutters, “-so much-” then looks back at Mike. “We’ve missed you all.”

“I’ve missed you guys too,” Mike says, “I’m glad you decided to come.”

“We couldn’t miss it. Figured it’s best that we’re together, you know.” Her expression falters, but she takes a breath and carries on with moving bags and ‘Merry Christmases.’

Joyce and his mom wind up chattering, and Karen takes off her apron to help transfer some luggage to the spare room. Nancy takes Jonathan’s hand and heads upstairs, grabbing one of his bags from the ground.

Will seems to have disappeared into the kitchen with Max, leaving his things behind, so it’s just Mike and El.

Mike takes in a deep breath.

It wasn’t an ugly breakup; honestly, El seemed unfazed. Their calls were little more than small talk about their days, most of the time, and even though he thought they might hold onto their past, everything they’d been through… it seemed to work best that they didn’t.

“Hey, Merry Christmas.”

El smiles easily. “Merry Christmas, Mike.” She lifts the basket slightly for acknowledgment. “Can these go by the tree?”

“Yeah, yeah, go for it.”

El nods and slips by the couch over to the tree, carefully laying out the gifts. After a few moments of Mike awkwardly leaning against the couch arm, thinking up something to say - thank god she didn’t seem too focused on him - Max walks in, her mouth stuffed with a truffle.

“El!” She darts over to the tree, and El jumps up, eyes bright, immediately throwing her arms around the girl’s shoulders. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” El giggles. “I brought you a gift.”

“You too. I can’t wait for you to see it. But first, you have to try one of these sweets Mrs. Wheeler’s making. They’re like frickin’ heaven.” She holds out the last bite of her own, and El takes it from her hand, eyes lighting up mischievously as she bites into it.

“It’s amazing.”

“I know. I think we should go sample some of the others.”

Mike calls out to their backs, “You guys better leave some for later on,” and in response, hears Max mimic him. He rolls his eyes and stands up from the couch.

And then it’s just him and Will, who’s beaming at him, seemingly amused by their banter.

Okay, Mike, now or never. “Uh, I’ll show you downstairs.”

“We’re not staying in your room?” Will asks simply, crossing over to retrieve his duffel bag.

“We totally can, I just have something I wanted to show you.”

Will nods. “Oh, okay, cool.”

Mike assists with a smaller bag and leads him to the basement door; before he runs down the stairs, he catches Max’s eye, and she gives him a thumbs up and mouths, ‘You got this.’ Deep breaths. At that moment, he’s incredibly thankful for her presence. 

He watches as Will follows him down, slower, glancing around at the familiar surroundings. His eyes catch on everything Mike and Max put together over the past few weeks, and his footsteps grow slower as he takes it all in.

Streamers of all festive colors and off-balance fairy lights hang along the corners of the basement, phrases of ‘Welcome home,’ hand-cut and pasted on the front wall; at the table, a game mat and figures sit in wait, silly hats placed in front each chair; even the TV is prepared with a Santa hat, the couch covered in blankets and pillows, a few sleeping bags folded on the floor.

“Mike,” Will says quietly, stepping in a small circle, “what is all this?”

“Your homecoming party.” Mike is all jitters; he leans against the wall and shoves his hands in his pockets to disguise any visible shakes. “You like it?”

Will finally looks straight at him, an indiscernible look painted on his face. “Yeah,” he says, nodding rapidly, “yeah, it’s great - but we, uh,” he swallows and shakes his head, “we don’t, um, have to play D&D. I mean-”

“I don’t know, Will,” he ventures to step away from the wall, taking slow steps over to the table. Will follows every move. “I mean, I was really excited to have you back, even just for a little bit. We all were.” He reaches the table and leans back on his hands. “Figured having our cleric back warranted some festivities.”

Will shakes his head, runs his hands along his face, and turns away. The bit of confidence Mike has slowly starts to trickle.

“Is it okay?”

Will shakes out of his stupor and chuckles. “It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. You’ve truly outdone yourself, Michael.” He lifts himself on tiptoe to look at decorations on top of Mike’s shelves. “Are these from our big craft night, like, years ago?”

The horrible crayon work makes Mike smile - they made half of the snowmen evil, citing a Great Abominable Snowman War, and gave them wicked frowns and smiles, claws on their stick hands. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t know you kept them.”

“I keep everything.” An awkward chuckle breaks from his chest. “Not everything, like, a hoarder or whatever, but - “

Will simply smiles and pushes himself forward toward the back wall, brushing past Mike, to his different pinups. He fixates on the sketch of Mike that he’d sent about a month back. “You know, you should probably take this down. I don’t think you’ll hear the end of it from Lucas and Dustin if you don’t.”

“Screw ‘em.”

“Right.” Will quirks his eyebrow and moves to sit in his designated chair, right next to where Mike is currently resting. “So, they know about D&D?”

“They know.” Mike smiles, and looks at the floor, right where their legs brush up against each other. “They seem pretty excited to have the party back together. To remind you of how badass your first one was,” he adds.

Will peers up at him for a moment before quietly saying, “I never joined another one.” Mike meets his eye for a moment, then, threatened by the silence that follows, clears his throat and distracts himself with a particularly interesting notch in the wood paneling. “Did you guys find someone else?”

“No, no,” Mike assures him. “We haven’t touched any of this stuff. It’s not the same.”

A silence settles between them, one that neither seems to know how to navigate. But Will keeps his gaze steady on Mike, trying to breach some barrier, to fall back into their usual ways.

Something is different, though; it’s not uncomfortable, it never could be, but it’s something intimidating. Will seems more comfortable, at least; he’s not shying away from anything Mike throws at him.

And he tries to break the silence first. “Y’know - “

“Will,” Mike cuts him off, and he’s not sure what he’s saying, or where he’s going with it, but he knows he’s supposed to say this. His name. “I need you to know that I missed you.”

Will blinks at him, cocks his head. “I missed you too,” he says matter-of-factly.

The words are eating at him, right there on the edge of his mind, and Will looks almost concerned and now Mike just wants to drop it because that’s not what he wanted. But he can’t, not now. “I missed you the most.” It sounds so juvenile. “More than everyone else. I missed you before you even left. I just didn’t know how to say it.” He breathes in and out, focusing on Will’s cheeks, the tip of his nose, anything but his eyes. When Will doesn’t say anything, the rest just spills. “I missed you when our first first day of school apart came and passed, and I didn’t even call. I missed you at homecoming. And,” he licks his lips, not really sure where his speech is heading, “I know you had to go, it’s fine. We’ll figure it out. But I feel like we haven’t been on the same page in a long time. So, I missed you, and I love you, and that’s that.”

Will looks at him funny, and then his face softens into something like laughter, and Mike is genuinely about to run and throw up somewhere, but then the boy closes his eyes and says, “I love you too.”

Mike blanches. “I don’t think I said that.”

“Oh, you definitely did.”

“Oh,” he nods, mind spinning, “well, you know…”

Will stands to be at Mike’s level, leans forward on his knees. Mike stops breathing. “I do,” he says, “but tell me again.”

Mike swallows down a breath of courage and suggests, “I think I might like you.” His eyes flit to Will’s lips, then back to his eyes. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll allow it,” Will says, a bright smile causing lines near his eyes. Mike smacks at his arm, nervous laughter coming out with a quiet, ‘Shut up.’ Will moves so he’s resting his fingertips on the table. Inches away.

“Same page, then?” Mike asks.

“Same page, yeah, for sure.”

Mike nods absently, distracting himself with the strings on Will’s sweatshirt. “So I don’t sound crazy?”

Will laughs. “I dunno. I always counted on us going crazy together. Figured we might have a few extra years, but hey, I’m all in.”

And then Mike is flashed back to a night on his couch just over a year ago. Knees knocking together, shared smiles. A promise.

So much has changed.

He wants to know what Will meant. A future of being in each other’s lives, maybe, getting old and senile and batshit crazy. Always being there.

He never dared to think about it before.

“So what now?”

Will shrugs. He dips his head to meet Mike’s eyes with his own. “What do you want, Mike?”

And finally, he thinks he might know.

Or maybe he’s always known.

He scoots forward, takes Will’s face in his hands, and kisses him. It’s just a quick press of their lips, but in that moment, he knows a few things for sure. His heartbeat is going a mile a minute, and Will must be able to feel it; it’s absolutely exhilarating, surreal, insane that he’s kissing his best friend; and, he is definitely in like, or maybe love, with Will Byers.

He’ll probably love him forever.

When Mike pulls back and his eyes flutter open to see Will, flushed, blinking back at him, slightly dazed, he doesn’t want to pull away at all. He did that. Mike’s hand remains on his jaw, lax, and he runs his thumb along Will’s bottom lip, curious to see his reaction, curious about a lot, now.

Will lets out a breathy chuckle. “Wow,” he mumbles, “that’s new.”

“Yeah.” Mike exhales shakily, takes one of Will’s hands, and says, “Merry Christmas, Will.”

“Yeah, Merry Christmas.”

The world doesn’t seem to fall apart like Mike thought it might if he ever got to this point, so, that’s nice.

“So…” Mike begins carefully, “you’re gonna have to be slow with me here. This is sort of a lot for me.”

“Me too,” Will replies simply. He squeezes Mike’s hand. “But we’ll figure it out.”

“Totally.”

Will takes his cheeks in his hands and smiles into a very gentle kiss, his fingers curling into the hair at the nape of Mike’s neck. It’s soft and sweet and lingering - but not for too long, as moments later the door upstairs busts open and shouts of, “BYERS!” from their dear friends sound through the air, and Mike and Will jump apart, equally startled and laughing.

“Down here!” Will calls out. He looks at Mike, smiles, offers, “To be continued?” and as he walks past, he leans in, just to leave a quick peck on Mike’s cheek.

And all Mike can do is laugh and shake his head and run after him to meet their friends; Lucas and Dustin are horribly late to the surprise, but they collide into Will the second they see him, shouting over each other, ‘What’s going on, dude?’ ‘Merry Christmas!’ ‘You’ve missed so much,’ and everyone is grinning and chattering, and it’s awesome.

Max approaches him, watching all of the madness, smacks a hand to his shoulder, and says, “You did good, Wheeler.”

“Yeah, I did.” She punches his arm lightly, laughing, so he adds, “thank you for everything. Seriously.”

“I think we should work together more often.”

Mike scoffs into a laugh, and says, “Yeah, guess so.”

Max rolls her eyes, but at least now they’re actually laughing in each other's company. It’s great progress from just a few weeks ago.

After a minute of watching the boy’s shenanigans, Max smiles. “Well, Merry Christmas, anyway.”

“Merry Christmas,” he responds, and he watches as she jumps up onto a kitchen stool, chatting and giggling with El.

With everyone back together again, finally, Mike feels really alive; so, he jumps in with all the excited shouting and group hugs and bickering, and celebrates the merriest Christmas he can remember in a long time.

#stranger things #hawkinsholidayhiatus #tuserjake #byler #byeler #mike wheeler #will byers #fanfiction #playlist #ik it might be a lil cheesy/dorky BUT i hope it makes u smile it was written w a lot of love <3 #mine

[ill-skillsgard]

His Mistress - Series Finale

Warning: 18+ smut, mentions of cheating, coarse language, mature themes.

Author’s Note: I am terrible at ending stories because I never want them to end. The ending I initially wrote wasn’t good enough, so I started again until I felt it was right. I’ll keep it brief, but I want to thank all the readers who fueled this crazy fire and inspired me to flesh out a dark love story that I’m proud to say I wrote. I’ll miss Mr. Deaver and all the smutty, angsty, drama of his life with his mistress. Thanks for tolerating the never-ending POV shifts and filling my inbox with love and support for the story and for me. You guys are the BEST. I’m forever grateful!

I hope you enjoy the 9K series finale. It’s been a slice!

Henry X Mistress Masterpost [x]

Henry's company held an office party to bid farewell the building that had brought them growth and success over the last few years. Once again expanding, the company added a brand new customer-relations department, a slew of employees fresh out of university and interns to fill in the gaps. The celebration took place on the evening of their last workday and boasted live entertainment and enough luxurious fare for each employee and their loved ones. They rented a bouncy castle and ball pit for the kids and set up an open bar next to two seminar tables' worth of catering.

It wasn't only a farewell party for the company, but the first time Henry showed off his girlfriend in front of his colleagues and employees. Word of Henry's divorce had already made its rounds, his colleagues begging for gory details after the documents were signed and filed. Rumours fluttered in and out of ears and mouths, but never while Henry was in the room—Henry had cheated on his wife with a coworker, Henry screwed the cleaning lady and his wife caught him in the act, Henry picked up a venereal disease, and poor Mary. The speculation rose tensions, but like all rumours, faded into irrelevancy once news of the company move surfaced. People forgot all about Henry's ugly divorce for the next round of gossip. Word of his mistress died down. 

Although the tension had mostly evaporated, she felt eyes crawling on her when she showed up on Henry's arm. Of course, everyone recognized her—she was the secretary for a time, the only line to get an opening with Mr. Deaver. She had spent months parked next to his office, taking his appointments, booking his days, answering his phone. They remembered, and they leaned into the nearest ear to whisper, "I knew it all along."

If Henry noticed the curiosity, he chose to ignore it, but she couldn't. She felt every woman in the place wringing her silently, scrutinizing her moves, her hand in Henry's. People who knew Mary tended to side with the older woman, and the nattering reinstated in hushed exchanges. She was alone at the party save for Henry, but he could only guard her for so long before his colleagues whisked him into conversations littered with business jargon that lost her attention.

Still, she clung to his hand, and once in a while, Henry would break from stock discussions to turn in for a kiss. He surrounded her ears with his fingers, tilting her face up so he need not crouch just to show some affection. When he buried her mouth with his, she savoured the taste of wine, the power in becoming the first lady, the stares from Henry's subordinates.

Henry pulled back an inch, staring drunkenly, though he'd only had one glass of pinot noir, and nipped her bottom lip. "Having a good time, sweetheart?"

"Sure. I love catching all the cattiest office workers glaring."

Henry smirked as though he too tasted a dollop of satisfaction from the envy. "You know what I say to that?"

"What?"

"Fuck them," Henry whispered.

She feigned a gasp, swatted his shoulder, and he pulled her even closer. "Gosh, you look beautiful. I want to undress you later and do all the things they're thinking about me doing to you."

"My, my, Henry. You better take it easy on the vino."

"I'm not tipsy. I'm excited."

She checked his pockets for bulges, hoping Henry's intentions weren't to propose in front of all these near-strangers. The lines of his suit were smooth, and when she hugged him, she only felt his cellphone, wallet and keys, no ring box. She sighed with relief and sweltered under another one of his long kisses. He moaned against her, stroked her neck and back until she interrupted him to say, "Jesus, Henry. What's with the PDA?"

"I'm sorry. I just don't care anymore. Let 'em look."

"Easy, tiger. You're the star of the show. People want to talk to you without lipstick all over your face."

"Mm, I'd fuck you right now if I could," said Henry.

She squeezed his shoulders, holding him off for a moment before he swooped in for another peck. "Okay, okay, I'm done. For now."

"Don't make me spank you when we get home," she warned, mouth curved in jest.

"I'll behave," he assured.

With children running about, the catering service making rounds in the nearly empty office space, more employees and their significant others piling in by the minute, it was easy to get lost in the bustle. Henry's colleagues whisked him away into a conversation she had no business understanding, leaving her stranded, drink in hand, smoothing out the wrinkles in her blouse to distract herself from her friendless reality. None of Henry's employees came to talk to her. She stood alone, a flag on a pole reminding everyone that Henry had upgraded in every way. Some people went by, nodding respectfully, while others bypassed her like a piece of furniture.

Just when she felt the pressure behind her eyes saying she was tired, Frank stepped out of the elevator with his wife and two boys. The children bolted for the bounce house, leaving their bickering parents in their dust. Frank travelled through the crowd rolling his eyes and sneering at his wife, who looked upset about something, but retracted her frown as soon as a colleague's wife greeted her. The loud businessman honed in on Henry, and she watched her helpless boyfriend go limp when the man slung his meaty arm around his shoulders, thumping his back with a ham hock fist.

She mused over Henry's embarrassment as Frank launched into a story designed specifically to draw attention to him in the worst way. Frank's baritone floated above the music, and soon, others gathered to listen to the man tell the story of how Henry got too wasted on sake on a business trip to Japan because he didn't want to seem rude to the host and didn't know how to decline.

"This fuckin' guy—pardon my French—is rolling on the floor in his hotel room, has ten minutes to get dressed and downstairs for the conference, but can't even hold his head up straight. How many did you have, Henry, seven? Eight?"

Henry blanched, shaking his head. "Eight, yeah, I think that's about right."

"You've never seen a guy so drunk in your life! He did the conference, slurring the entire time, stumbling over his shoes, but the folks loved it! Didn't they, Deaver? You really got their attention when you started hiccoughing between every word."

"Different times. We were younger. We were boys."

"Ah, yeah. Young and dumb. Now, look at you! Much older now and just as dumb, eh?"

The gaggle surrounding Henry burst into laughter and carried on as Frank surrendered his grip. She tried to picture Henry staggering, too drunk to string together a sentence, but couldn't imagine him as anything less than poised. The image reminded her of the conversation she had with Mary in the parking garage. Before the divorce had been finalized, Mary told her Henry had done questionable things abroad with his colleagues. Frank's story, although comical and meant as a harmless jab, filled her with suspicion.

Henry had denied the accusation that he cheated before that night he invited her up to his hotel room. With desperation on his face, he vowed on his love for her that he was never unfaithful, barring their affair. She believed him, with reluctance, and stowed it away in her mind with the rest of Mary's dubious claims. Now that stories of shenanigans and unprofessional conduct were in circulation, she tried not to let her suspicions gain traction.

The night played on, and as more of the families left to put their hyper children to bed, the heads of business brought out the top-shelf Scotch and sat around picking at sandwich trays and hors d'oeuvres. Frank caught Henry's assistant-turned-girlfriend in his cross-hairs and approached her with a drink in hand. Red-faced and loud as ever, Frank asked her why she wasn't enjoying herself.

She cleared her throat and offered her best smile. "I am having fun. I just don't have a rich enough history with the company to offer any entertaining stories."

"Oh, come now. You were Henry's assistant for months! You don't have anything to share about banging the boss?"

Frank's announcement only fell on her ears, but it was enough to make her blush and want to escape. He apologized and sidled up to her, clinking his whiskey tumbler with her wine glass.

"Gotta get you a refill, Whaddaya say, toots?"

"I'm fine for now," she said. "I offered to drive home."

"That's right. You two live together now in that little condo."

She blinked, unsure of how anyone might think of the condo as little, then realized she was standing among wealthy men whose homes spanned acres, who owned Summer cottages bigger than the average townhouse.

"I gotta say, Deaver's got that colour back in his face since he started on with you, doll. What do I gotta do to get me a woman like that? He's a whole new man. Is that all it takes is a nice, young honey to roll back the decades? I bet the old bastard gets it up just fine. Just fine."

"Thank you, Frank. I'll try to sift through that to find a compliment," she scoffed and sipped her wine.

"Aw, I mean it with love, darlin', you know that. Ol' Franky just talks, right? I don't mean any harm. Maybe I come from a place of envy, who knows? Not every day a dry old fella gets his hands on something pretty as you. I can see you're good for him. He sure smiles a helluva lot more! Christ, can't chisel the grin off that face. Loopy as a damn circus clown since you came around."

"Really?" She tittered.

"I'm serious. Shit, when Henry was with Mary, you couldn't pay the guy to crack a joke. Now, he's nothing like the shlub I met all those years ago."

She ran her finger along the glass rim as Frank droned on, her eyes on Henry across the room. He had been having a good time, his cheeks aglow with cheeriness. She'd never seen Henry interact with his coworkers for more than a quick trip in and out of the conference room to deliver him a printout or progress report. Tonight, Henry hadn't complained about people talking his ear off. Even after Frank's unflattering account of one of his rare blunders, he hadn't whined or wished they could sneak out unseen. Henry was at ease.

"He's planning on proposing to me soon," she said.

Frank cocked his head and rose his glass. "Here's to hoping he makes the right decision, and quick, before you realize you can do better!"

She clinked glasses with Frank once more, and while he drained his whiskey, she set her glass down on a table nearby.

"I was wondering what his coworkers might say about him remarrying."

"Anything to get him away from that soul-sucking ice queen of an ex-wife."

"Frank? Can I ask you something and get a sincere answer?"

Frank read her serious tone, shifted his brows and angled in, unaware of his alcohol-laden breath fanning over her face. "Anything, love. Franky tells no lies. That's what they say. With me, it's pure honesty."

"I heard a rumour about Henry in Thailand. Somebody said he cheated on Mary. Do you know anything about this? I'd like to know what I'm getting myself into, being young and all. I don't want to end up wasting my best years with a man who might cheat on me down the road."

Frank scoffed, slapped his leg and howled. She waited for him to wipe an invisible tear from his eye, hoping nobody asked what was so funny.

"Oh, doll. You can't believe all the rumours you hear in this place. Thailand... Shit, that was so long ago. I can hardly remember what happened. It's true, we did some partying, but when in Rome, right?"

She grimaced as Frank went on, "Ol' Deaver never left his hotel room on that trip. Me 'n a couple of our work buddies cruised around, got ourselves into a little trouble, but not Henry. He spent the whole week hunched over his laptop, putting last minute touches on some PowerPoint crap—never was good with computers, myself. And don't get me wrong, there were offers made during dinners—generous offers. You know the type. They like to show their hospitality. But Henry was the professional. We call him Dad since he's always keeping us in line. Even us old guys, eh? No, no... Company is rock solid 'cause of him. We told Deaver a million times to drop the ball 'n chain, but the kid stuck it out, he really did."

"Am I stupid to marry him?"

"Doll, I think if you want someone to treat you right, it's my man, Henry Deaver. The Kid can't contain himself. And who could? He's a lucky man, really fortunate to have a dish like you."

"Oh, stop," she gestured at the opposite corner of the cleared out office space where the wives gathered. "You know, if I marry Henry, I'll have to join the wives' club and stand over there with Phyllis and Dorothy."

Frank beamed at her. She decided not to loathe the man for his praise, both for her and Henry. He was a bumbling idiot at times and unfiltered, but she had seen much worse. Before the corporate job with all the nice clothes and gadgets she used to pine for while browsing fashion websites, she worked her food service job. With every type of asshole and gentleman coming through the hotel bar, Frank was the loudmouth who'd changed her mind on Henry Deaver.

"You're a different kind, ain'tcha? I bet Deaver has his hands full with you."

Warm, wine-drunk confidence slid off her tongue, "Oh, I keep him busy."

"I'll kill him if he doesn't marry you, kid."

"I'm sure you will."

"That's Frank's Guarantee."

She tipped glasses with him once more and excused herself to use the washroom. The night was drawing to a close, and she enjoyed the quiet of the bathroom and its 3 stalls. Many times she had retreated to the washroom to text Henry while he was in his office. She couldn't risk getting caught exchanging dirty messages with the boss, so when she wanted to make him blush, she snuck off to the lady's room. Many nude photoshoots happened in the safety of the last stall on the right, and all of them fed to Henry's phone at inopportune times—mostly during meetings or video calls with clients across the world. Now, she laid her head against the cool metal and thought of marrying Henry. 

Back then, falling in love with him was forbidden, tingly, like a shot of alcohol at an inappropriate hour that she hoped nobody could smell on her breath. Now, it was pure. There were no more walls, no need to hide in the stall to talk to him. Henry was hers, and everyone knew it.

Henry waited for her by a stack of chairs. Behind him, the catering company was clearing away serving trays, stacking cups and folding tablecloths. The band had long since packed up, and anyone with children had taken them downstairs to the shuttles the company had arranged to drive them home.

"Hey," she greeted him.

"Hey, indeed. How're you doing? I thought I saw you getting along with Frank." Henry chuckled. "What was up with that? I thought you hated him."

"I don't hate him. Maybe I wasn't keen on him hitting on me back at the hotel, but I think he's smartened up. As uncouth as he may be... He has your back and cares about the company."

"He's the drunk uncle of the business."

"You'll have to teach him some manners, though. One day, you'll have a female big-wig to schmooze, and she might not take kindly to pet names."

Henry's eyes bugged as he nodded. "Frank doesn't get to talk to the women in the industry, and don't worry, I'll whip him into shape."

"Hm, is that why they call you the company dad?" She asked, tracing one finger down Henry's lapel. "You just keep everyone in line, don't you? Lay down the law. Tell all those silly men how to act."

Henry shivered as her hand travelled lower, coasted over the front of his pants while nobody was looking. He puffed his chest, a crafty look taking over his visage. He snatched her wandering hand and stepped closer, eclipsing her as he slouched over to whisper in her ear.

"Yeah, I'm the Daddy around here."

"Is Daddy ready to head home soon?" 

"Let's say our goodbyes, then we'll get out of here. Come on." 

Henry gave her directions that took them in the opposite direction of home. When she questioned him, he patted her thigh, assuring there was a surprise waiting at the end of the line. She tried to pry it from him while they cruised the highway in the dark. The radio played low while Henry tried changing the subject. 

"Where am I going?" She asked. 

Henry pointed ahead. "Get off at the next exit." 

The roads narrowed, and the street lamps spread farther apart outside of the city. She slowed the car, flipped on the high beams and guided Henry's BMW over gravel hills. There were houses along the quiet strip of country line, but they were hidden behind spruce and maple trees.

"Henry, we're so far from home. I'm tired. Please tell me what we're doing." 

He pointed at a driveway tucked behind a line of birch and a dented metal mailbox standing crookedly on the side of the road. "Down there. It's close now, don't worry." 

They curved through a loose gathering of evergreens and pulled up to a sprawling ranch house with a double garage and topiaries along the sides. The place was dark, but a motion light illuminated the paved driveway as she pulled up and parked. Henry pulled a set of keys from his pocket and exited the vehicle. He waited for her to catch up, breath turning to vapour in the crisp night air.

"Care to explain what we're doing at some random house?" She asked.

Henry took her hand and guided her toward the front door. In the dark, she sailed by the realtor's sign and stepped onto the first stone slab leading to the front door. She watched Henry fiddle with a key, shove it into the lock and turn the handle. The door opened with a whoosh, the scent of fresh paint and lacquered wood spilling out of the massive wooden door. Henry hit a switch, and fractals of light exploded from a chandelier on high in the foyer.

"Check this out. It's so open in the center, you could drive a truck through to the backyard. And the kitchen! Oh, you gotta see the kitchen. It's lovely," Henry said as he grabbed her hand and led her through the house. "All stainless steel and marble. The island is bigger than our bed! And come this way, down here."

They journeyed down an echoing hall, footsteps casting off the hardwood floors and glass light fixtures. Henry threw open a door and ushered her inside a furnished bedroom. A sleigh bed domineered the far end of the room, all dark wood, plush duvet and pillows.

"I know you're not keen on beige, which is fine. We'll paint it. But, look at this bed! And this window overlooks the backyard—Well, I wouldn't say 'yard.' It's more of a...field. Look, look, look!"

"Henry, what is this?" She asked, peering out the window at the blackness beyond the dim orange halo of the bedroom light.

When she turned back around, Henry placed his hands on her hips, excitement simmering. He smiled, wry and lustful, and bent down to kiss her.

"Isn't it obvious? This is our house."

"What are you saying?" She gasped. "You bought this place?" 

"Mhm. I've had my eye on it for a long time."

"And just how long exactly were you planning on keeping this a secret?"

"Only until I bought it."

"Henry!"

He jingled the keys in his pocket. "Well, you can't just walk into a place that's not yours."

Suddenly, she realized Henry had put this in motion weeks before, masked it under the search for a new office building. Realtors had rung Henry's phone off the hook, and she had answered them all, oblivious to his underlying motive. When it clicked, she dropped her jaw and swatted him playfully.

"I can't believe you. Right under my nose!"

"It was good timing."

"But...why? What's wrong with the condo?"

Henry guided her to the room's centre beneath the carnival glass light fixture that had to go, along with the drab paint job. "Nothing is wrong with the condo. It's just not ours. There are too many memories preventing me from letting go of the past. I want to let it all go, but I can't when I look around and remember where I was just a year and a half ago. It served me well as a place to escape, but now, I don't need to hide. I want new memories. I want to walk outside with my coffee and see you in the backyard, doing whatever you want—gardening, reading, lounging. I want to pull up after a long day at work, see this place, and know that you're inside, all of our things, our memories, our smells."

"And what if I hate it?" She asked, stifling a giggle.

"Then I'll sell it, and we'll find a new place."

"I don't hate it, Henry, but...This was such a risk."

"It paid off. I knew you'd like it. It's the perfect combination of vintage and modern. The structure is old and strong, but the renovations give it that modern class. It's like that chalet we stayed at in Sweden. Remember?"

"Of course, I remember. We didn't leave bed for two days."

Henry smiled fondly at the memory and stroked her hair back, smiling with her in his arms. She laid her cheek on his chest and breathed in a contented sigh.

"There are two offices, one for me and one for you. Two other bedrooms. One for guests and one for a kid."

She looked up at him, and all the playfulness fled from his eyes. He kissed her to avoid the inevitable questions. When will we see a doctor? What is the plan if we can't conceive? They didn't need answers, only trust that whatever battles stretched on, they would meet them hand-in-hand.

"I can't wait," she whispered. "I love you. And I love this house."

"There's one more thing," Henry cleared his throat and stepped away from her. "It's kind of important."

"What is it?"

"I'm old, babe."

"Henry, you're not that old."

"I'm an old man. I'm head of a multi-national company, y'know. I wear suits and talk to people who hemorrhage money day in and day out. I like to style myself as a professional."

She cocked her head, wondering where Henry was going with his monologue.

"It's awkward when people ask me about you, and I have to refer to you as my girlfriend. Guys like me aren't supposed to have girlfriends. It just sounds creepy. Plus, you're so much more to me than that. You're not my girlfriend; you're the love of my life. My soulmate. My queen. I want you to be my partner."

"Henry—"

He cut her off and fetched something from the table next to the bed. When he rejoined her in the middle of the room, he bent at the knee and presented her with the ring box she had already seen, yet she fluttered as though it was the first time.

"Baby... I could have flown you to a tropical island or put this in a glass of champagne. I could have done this in front of everyone at the party tonight, but all of that seemed silly. Don't get me wrong, I still want to take you to every corner of the world and give you all the nicest things, but I wanted to propose to you in our house, just you and me. So... Will you quit being my girlfriend and become my wife instead?"

Henry separated her ring finger from the rest and slid the band down to the knuckle as she blotted her sobs with the other hand, nodding and fighting joyful tears.

"You think you're so clever, don't you?" She asked as he rose to his feet and clamped her in a bone-cracking hug.

"I know I'm clever! You thought I would propose to you in front of all those people? No way."

"You hate being the center of attention."

"That's right. And although I want to shout it from the rooftops, I thought you'd prefer me asking you to marry me someplace quiet."

She gazed at the stone glittering on her finger, and a fresh wash of tears wet her cheeks. "I'm marrying you... You're going to be my husband."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to skip fiance altogether and get right to the wife thing."

"You're my husband."

"You're my wife!"

"We're getting married!"

"That's right," Henry beamed. "And we move in next month."

Breathless, she ripped her eyes off the ring and looked up at the man who gave it to her. She threw her arms around his neck, pressed her face into the column of his throat and breathed in the scent of old hotels, of pastry and coffee and drying ink on newspaper. She had a vision of him seated at a table across the room, smiling in her direction, tapping his silver pen on the spine of his planner. Two eyes, one green and one brown, drinking her in like fine wine, full of secrets and passion, indulgence and guilt. Her good Christian boy who was anything but pure or chaste.

"I'll worship you until I die, you know that, right?"

"Henry, I can't. You're making me cry. There's probably mascara all over my face!"

"I don't care," he pressed the words to her temple, swaying in languid step. "You'll never be rid of me. Think about that."

"I believe you, Henry."

His eyes flooded and no amount of squeezing suffocated the tears. The streams met the cuff of his suit jacket. He questioned why he still wore the suit and slipped out of it as her hand tugged his tie. Leash in hand, she pulled his face to her level and touched the tears coasting his cheeks, brushed her thumb over the scar two inches from the lips she kissed.

"Are you sure you want to marry me?"

"Shut up."

"I'm serious."

"And I'm telling you to shut up, Henry. Don't ask those kinds of questions."

"I just can't believe you're mine."

"That's right. So stop wondering if I'll change my mind. I've had many opportunities to reconsider. I stuck it out through times I should have walked out, and now we're standing in this gigantic house, and there's a ring on my finger... And you still think I'll back out?"

"I hope not. You're everything I've wanted my whole life. I have it all. Now I can spend the rest of it happy."

"I love you," she whispered against his bottom lip.

Henry crouched, circled her hips with his arms and carried her to the bed, murmuring, "I love you, too, baby. So much."

"Are we gonna fuck right here?"

"Right here, right now," said Henry, perching her on the bed so he could work open the buttons of his dress shirt. She lifted her legs, slipped off her heels, then wrestled her blouse off. The struggle to undress ended with their tops off, Henry standing with his knees pressed into the plush mattress, between her legs. He ran his hands up and down her thighs, nylon sighing between skin as he stroked.

"I didn't think I'd make it out of the office without fucking you. Gosh, you looked so good in that outfit. All those guys were looking at you... Especially when you dropped your phone and bent over to pick it up. That fabric stretching over your ass. You should've seen 'em staring."

"You think they're jealous of you?" She asked as Henry bunched her skirt around her hips, revealing satin and lace panties pasted to her crotch with arousal. His palm traversed her thigh, paused at the edge of the panties. He sent out two fingers to stroke the stitching along her groin, satin running like water across the tips. Henry wanted to take his time, but she was restless. He subdued her with a kiss.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. I'm in control tonight, and I want to feel and lick and taste every inch of your body before I even get my pants off, understand?"

She returned his sly look and rolled onto her stomach, parting her legs so he could admire the shiny material ruched between her cheeks.

"To answer your question... Yes. Of course, they're jealous."

"Oh, yeah? How do you know?"

Henry snickered, like a bully cornering his prey. "Those old bastards can't keep their mouths shut. Even when you were my employee, they'd hound me for details... Ask if you were single, if I was tapping you, if I'd thought about it. I'm not one to boast, but they all knew. Henry Deaver doesn't kiss and tell, but then you'd come in and smile at me like just an hour before I was balls-deep in your pussy... Like my cum was still dripping down your thigh. They knew. We weren't as covert as we thought."

"It's that naughty little smile of yours that gives it away. You flashed me that same smile a few times at the hotel, and I just thought maybe you didn't realize how seductive you looked. But you know, don't you? You know what you do to me. How hard you can make me with just one look."

Henry lifted her leg over his shoulder and kissed her ankle as he squeezed the sole of her foot, admiring the coloured polish on her toenails peeking out of the semi-opaque stockings.

"I do enjoy getting you worked up, sir."

"Let's not tonight. I'm supposed to make love to you, not treat you like my office pet. I'm marrying you, for fuck's sake."

"Then make love to your future wife. That doesn't mean I can't be your slut anymore."

"Oh, my God," Henry growled.

"Look at what I'm wearing for you. I know how much you love the way my pussy looks wearing this fabric. Thigh-high stockings aren't practical, but I figured you might fuck me in your office one last time, and I wanted to torment you."

"Not so predictable now, huh?"

She simpered and ran her toe in a line down his chest and didn't stop until she grazed his belt buckle. "Yeah, and you've been thinking about filling me up all night."

Henry grasped her ankles and pulled her to the edge of the bed to meet his groin. He gathered her up in his arms, pressing his entire weight on her frame as he kissed her desperately. When her legs grew weak, he clamped them around his hips and undulated. Hardness strained against her crotch, pulsing from the heat between her legs.

"You're right. I've been aching to fuck you. How long has it been? Gosh, this week has been so busy, I've hardly had any time alone with you. And you've been occupied with your new job. It's been a while since I've come."

She made a coo of sympathy. "Aw, my poor baby. You're probably so sensitive."

"I want you to do something for me," Henry muttered, adjusting his crotch, then giving up and undoing his belt and pants altogether. "I'd love it if you sucked my cock."

"Oh, Mr. Deaver asking for a blowjob? A rare sound to my ears."

He shook his head, grabbed her hand and pulled her off the bed to kneel on the floor. With feet spread wide, his fingers tangled in her hair, Henry waited for her to make the first move. His view of her from on high was angelic. In the prismatic light, her eyes twinkled, and he thought of whiskey in a glass, poured by a dangerous woman he'd grown to admire. She always wore a smile, but for the right person, that smile turned luscious and dim. Her eyes would relax on him, soothe him, delight if he made small conversation instead of only demands.

Henry did not demand, but as her smiling lips tightened around the midway-point of his cock and sank, he couldn't help aiding the way to her throat with one firm thrust. "Oh... Oh, Jesus fucking Christ," he droned.

"You can use my mouth, sir."

"Just suck that dick like a good girl. Do your magic on me, baby."

With free reign, she slathered his shaft with her tongue, side-to-side, up and down. She met his eyes and smiled, the tip nestled between her puckered lips. Her grasp on the base sent waves of hot blood pumping through the veins, filling him out entirely.

"I can't wait to feel this big cock pumping my pussy full of cum."

"Oh, I know, baby. We'll get there. For now, I need your mouth. All over me, please. Balls too. Come on... Eat that cock, you hungry little slut."

She chased Henry up on the bed where she could kneel between his legs in comfort. Henry enjoyed the position, too—back against a mound of pillows, his long legs spread to the lower corners of the bed, her crumpled form nestled between his thighs while her lips and tongue worked in a circuit on his length. He leaned his head back, arms thrown over the pillows. In this position, Henry bucked his hips a few times to touch his tip to her tonsils. Each time she brought up a wave of saliva that coated him and made it easier for her to slide down.

"What about that ass, big boy?" She asked after popping up from a harsh series of head-bobbing. "I know how much you love it when I play with that pretty hole of yours."

Henry sucked air in through his teeth, chin dimpling and lashes fluttering. "Mmph, not tonight. I want that pussy. Yeah, I wanna taste you."

They flipped positions. Henry pulled her onto her back away and snatched one of the pillows to wedge under her tailbone. With both hands, he hooked the back of her knees and spread her thighs wide, elevating her pelvis until his breath stroked the front of her panties. Henry nipped the fabric, pulled it into a tent and let it snap back against her lips. He nuzzled it, faint stubble scratching the delicate fabric. She let out a gentle sigh, a whimper of lust. Henry kissed the satin once, twice harder, then a third time like he'd met her mouth in a fevered touch.

She watched his long fingers sneak the fabric away, how he made shapes with his mouth like he wanted to say something but lost his voice. Henry bit his lip, kissed where he knew her clit was hiding, then prodded her folds with a long lick. He repeated the motion on the right side, along her labia, and again on he left side.

For a while, he would only meet the crest of her entrance with light kisses and whispered promises.

"Do you like it when I tease your pussy? Giving you just enough to make you wet, but not as much as you need?"

"Henry, please," she begged.

"Please, what?"

"Please give me more!"

"More of this?" Henry asked, ghosting his breath over her clit.

"No more teasing."

"You sure?"

She clutched some of his hair and pouted. He chuckled, laid his cheek on her thigh and brought his hand up between her legs. "What if I'm not done teasing? What if I want to torment you a little longer?"

He spread open her lips, applying pressure on both sides. She could almost grind against his fingers if he didn't have her at his mercy, arched over a pillow, thighs splayed wide and vulnerable. Henry tapped her clit with three fingers, stippling with gooseflesh from the wet noises the pads made on her vulva. "Oh, I love that sound," he sang. "You're so wet for me."

"Please, sir. I need your mouth."

"Is that right? Well, you've been so good and helpful. I'm sure I can give you what you want... but you have to promise me something."

"Yes, yes, I will. Anything."

"Promise you'll tell me before you come?"

"Uh-huh. I promise."

"Okay, I trust you. Don't get too close. I have other plans for your pussy."

She groaned out loud, relieved when he finally licked her clit. His tongue was a warm blanket, weighted and placed perfectly on top. He undulated the muscle, coaxing out the sensitive parts for adoration. That's how she described his attention in her mind. When Henry ate her out, it was like he'd infiltrated her head and knew the precise amount of pressure, the proper motions, when to flicker his tongue and when to envelope her clit between his lips. He kissed, sucked, lapped and moaned like a symphony, only opening his eyes once in a while to catch her staring in awe between her legs.

"Mm, baby," Henry moaned against her slit. "I can feel you getting close already. Don't go over the edge."

"I'm sorry, you just look so good eating my pussy."

Henry pulled off her, smirking, letting her glimpse his full lips shining in their glory. She couldn't stop herself from lunging for him. The taste of her own fluid on his mouth set off a carnal urge to feel his cock too. She told him to fuck her hard, to spank her ass and make her squeal like a knifed animal. She wanted that deepness, the full stretch as his thighs bounced her up and down. They laid on their sides, and Henry entered her from behind, arm hooking her leg up so he could gaze over at her exposed breasts, her glistening clit forgotten for a moment too long. In his clutches, she was helpless, and Henry used his advantage to squeeze and rub her until more of her liquid soaked between their groins.

"Can you come like this?" Henry puffed next to her ear. "If I rub your clit like that and keep fucking you, can you come?"

"Yes," she peeped. "Yes, keep going."

"Yeah? Gonna come like a good girl all over this dick?"

Again, she nodded, biting down on her lip in concentration.

"'Cause I'm gonna shoot so much fucking cum inside you, but only after you get all tight around me."

She begged him not to stop, to never stop being hers. Henry rushed his movements until she bucked once, legs fighting to fold inward.

"Is that it? That spot right there?" Henry asked. "Keep rubbing you just like this?"

He didn't need an answer; it was written all over her flushed face, denting her lip where her teeth bore down. Henry exerted every inch of stamina he had in his body until her muscles seized hard enough to snap. Mewling as she came, Henry didn't stop pestering her clit with his fingertips or pull out after he emptied as deep inside as he could fit. He gathered her up in his arms, locking fingers and lips, breathing each other's air. Pieces of his hair clung to his sweat-dampened forehead while he pulsed and shivered.

"I need you to get your panties on right away. We can't leave a mess behind."

"Are you serious?"

Henry nodded his head, unperturbed by the alarm in her tone. "Well, it's not our stuff. It's staging furniture. I just convinced the realtor to let me surprise you tonight. She probably didn't think I'd be fucking you in any of the bedrooms."

"Henry! I'm not sure where you slung my underwear."

He pushed into her one last time and grunted. "Aw, honey, mm. That's where my cum belongs."

"You're such a bad man," she giggled.

"I know I'm dirty."

"Come on, husband. Help me find my clothes. We should get back before we both fall asleep and someone finds us like this."

They gathered themselves, sighing and stretching the tension from their muscles as they dressed and took one more look around the property. She saw the house in a warm light now, as a place they could fill with memories, starting in the master bedroom where Henry proposed. He held her hand as they drove to the condo and flung themselves into bed, drained from the night's givings but wrapped in each other's arms.

 The next morning, she woke to the smell of pancakes cooking on a griddle. Henry was up, two coffees deep, and buzzing from cupboard to cabinet, humming under his breath. He lit up when he caught her motion in the corner of his eye and went in for a long hug.

"Good morning, wife."

"Morning, husband," she replied, cheeks and chest prickling.

"Pancake buffet?" Henry gestured at the kitchen island.

"It's not even Christmas!"

Henry scoffed. "Who needs a special occasion to have a pancake buffet?

"I suppose I can't complain," she said.

She sat at the island, studying the foreign object around her ring finger every once in a while. When she made a fist or spread her hand, the rock sparkled and delighted her eyes. Henry caught her staring at the ring and smiling as he launched into the day's trajectory, his plan falling on deafened ears.

"Hello?" Henry waved the spatula. "Are you home?"

She sat up straight and folded her hands. "Yes. Sorry. I was distracted."

"I was saying I have to go into the office today, but only for an hour or two. Are you okay with hanging around here by yourself while I take the car? Can you believe the Beamer is still in the shop? They say take the damn thing into the dealership, we'll fix it up for free, but we'll keep it for half the week."

"Oh, well, I was supposed to pick up groceries, but I can wait."

Henry's eyebrows popped up. "Oh, no. No, no, honey. That's all right. I'll find another way there."

"Why don't I drive you to the office? Unless...You're not actually going to the office?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Henry asked.

"I don't know...You could be exacting another one of your famous covert plans and covering it up by saying you're going to the office. How do I know?'

Henry tipped his head back and laughed as he tended the food sizzling on the stovetop. "Oh, sweetheart. No. I promise, no more tricks for a while."

"Sure," she said with a sly edge on her tongue.

"You can drop me off and take the car. It's nothing secretive, I swear."

Henry piled the last pancakes onto a plate, turned off the griddle and wiped the counter clear of flour and coconut flakes. They put together an extravagant array of dressed-up breakfast food, dousing their plates in maple syrup, chocolate chips and heart-shaped strawberries as they talked and sipped coffee. Henry sat across the island holding his hand out for her to touch every once in a while. He didn't need her to hold his hand, though, subconsciously, he always reached out for her in case she wanted to feel his skin.

The morning melted seamlessly into early afternoon, and the couple ventured from the condo after a quick round of energizing couch sex. Henry thumbed the ring on her finger as they walked onto the main floor from the elevator.

"Mr. Deaver and Madame, good morning!" Johnny, the concierge, greeted them.

Henry held up their conjoined hands. "It's Mr. and Mrs. Deaver from now on, Johnny."

The tall man behind the desk made a small gasp and bowed. "Apologies, Mr. and Mrs... Might I say congratulations to the happy couple?"

"You're the first to hear, officially," Henry said.

Johnny touched his enormous hand to his chest. "What an honour, sir. This position never loses its magic."

Henry twisted his mouth. "I have some other news, Johnny. My wife and I will be moving soon. We won't be seeing you every morning."

"Ah, that's all right, Mr. Deaver. Moving up and up, I hope?"

"Yes. It's a ranch house in the country. No neighbours."

"Beautiful. Well, I wish you both the very best and look forward to helping you out until moving day comes."

"Thanks, Johnny," she said with a smile.

Johnny rose his finger as they meant to leave. "One more thing. A package arrived for you, Mr. Deaver."

The concierge ducked under the desk with a set of keys and opened the security box dedicated to the Deaver property. He pulled out a bulging manila envelope and turned it over with a dutiful grin. When her eyes glanced at the writing on the front, a knot formed in her throat. Henry's name adorned the front in practiced, sweeping hand. Henry. Not Henry Deaver or Mr. Deaver. Just his name written in black ink with flourishes on the capital H and a hand-drawn filigree beneath. She watched his shoulders stiffen as he nodded to Johnny.

"Thank you, Johnny. We'll see you later."

She followed Henry to the parking garage, staring at the envelope in his hands. Henry looked ahead, his bright demeanour trampled upon by the object he carried. When they got into the vehicle, they looked at each other, then down at the package.

"What is that?" She asked.

"I think it's from Mary. That's her handwriting."

She swallowed the knot in her throat, but it had doubled in size and refused to budge. "What now? She's not supposed to bother us anymore."

"I know," Henry breathed. "I can't... You open it."

She tore into the envelope and pulled out a letter accompanied by a DVD in a flat jewel case and photocopies of ruled paper scrawled with notes. Henry nodded at the letter, signalling her to read it aloud.

"Dear Henry... I know there's little chance of getting a private audience with you now that we're legally separated, and the company is in the process of moving. You probably have your hands full and do not wish to hear from me either way. I understand your need to stay away, hence the letter and no phone call. What needs to be said cannot be summed up in a brief call, so I will try to keep this to a few pages.

I wanted to start off by apologizing. It's too late for apologies, and you must think I'm off my rocker to have even considered coming to you with this. Still, I'm not looking for acceptance, sympathy or anything but the need to fill you in on the blank spaces that must have driven you crazy over the last couple of years. The way I scorned you was wrong. A wife should respect her husband in all forms, and answer to him when he calls. I ignored you and purposely drove a wedge between us in order to distance myself from you and our collective failure.

By now, I'm sure your new girlfriend told you what I told her. It should come as no surprise that when I say "failure," I mean our inability to have a child.

When I received the news, and you were nowhere to be found, I felt the clutches of the Devil himself reaching for me. God does not make mistakes, which is how I know we were being punished for our sins, and since the results indicated you were the weaker factor, I can only assume the punishment was meant for you, and by extension, me. I know you have berated me in the past for my strong beliefs, but I cannot compromise my relationship with God for anyone's comfort. I know in my heart, his word is law, and if we couldn't produce a child, lying together would be straying down the path of temptation.

There were things you wanted me to do that I could not, in good conscience, provide for you—sex acts no married couple should have an interest in performing. If I'd have known of your devious tastes early on in our relationship, perhaps I wouldn't have married you. You resisted His word and acted on selfish impulse, spoke of wicked things with your colleagues, and Lord knows what other things I didn't catch wind of. I had to escape your sin yet remain your wife through the bad and the worse, as I pledged before God until death.

I do not judge you, as you are no longer my husband, and I know God will assess your choices in his divine eye. I don't have to worry about the unclean thoughts that live inside of you—they have no power over me; they aren't a reflection of my heavenly worth. If anything, I hope you are happy and have all the freedom one who strays from God can expect to have in this world. I pray for your soul each night and hope you do not meet the eternal fires.

I should have told you, but I was stricken with unbearable grief. I hated you. I fell out of love. I can't describe how, but I felt if I touched you, knowing what I knew then, God would punish me. Please understand everything I did, I did in the name of the Lord and with concern for my immortal soul. Call me selfish. I was and am, to this day, a selfish woman. But you were good to me, up until a certain point.

I cannot forgive your infidelity and can only pray you to seek repentance for your sin, though I will admit I did not care to make it right at the time. My silence was meant as punishment, but only God can dole penance, and in shutting you out, I acted in his name when I shouldn't have. I will spend the rest of my days begging His forgiveness and praying for you, Henry.

This package includes the evidence I've compiled of your cheating. You should know now I no longer seek vengeance. I simply want to scrub my life of all traces of you, and figured you might want to gaze upon your transgressions. Or throw them out. It's up to you now. Sincerely, Mary."

Henry was quiet for several minutes as he digested the contents of the letter. She found a pamphlet for the Evangelist Church of God among the pages and scowled.

"Wow, religion really makes people say some crazy stuff," she muttered, hoping to get a sound out of her fiance. Henry pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He motioned for the letter and gave it a half-hearted scan before crumpling it in his fist.

"Fuck that woman. Fuck that life."

"Sounds like a story."

He puffed, scoffed, burned a hole into the letter written in Mary's graceful hand.

"But you don't have to tell me."

"She's right," Henry said. "I was different back then."

"I know you were."

"How come you've never asked?"

His question nipped the skin on the back of her arms. "The same reason I don't ask other people about their religion. That's their business. You were raised a certain way, but you changed. I know you were put in a cage, Henry. You made a mistake, but it's not the eternal damnation Mary says. Your marriage was practically over. Unless... You cheated before us?"

Henry whipped a look at her, gaping and wordless. She shrugged as a platitude and coughed over a laugh. "Well? How can I not suspect? Mary says you cheated, Frank says you didn't, but I don't trust either of them as far as I can throw them, Henry!"

"Look, I know!" Henry barked, and she pressed her back to the door. "You've gotta believe me, sweetheart. I'm trying to prove to you every day that I'm not this monster she wants me to be!"

"What's on these discs? They don't have labels. Am I going to watch this and find out something you don't want me to?"

His jaw set like he was about to explode. Air escaped his nostrils, and he glared forth at the wet cement wall beyond the hood of her car. Above, the building's pressure crushed out all sound, and Henry became aware of his breath, the tension in his windpipe.

"No. I don't know. I have no idea what's on those DVDs. If she got her private investigator to film me, it's probably just you and I making out in the car. What would be incriminating about that?"

"Did you lie to me that night in Paris?"

A dissonant, heavy silence fell over the man in the driver's seat. His skin turned sallow, and her eyes eclipsed to see the sickly guilt on his face.

"That night, you told me you left her. You said you asked for the divorce, and she just gave up. Was that a lie? Did you say that just to get me to go?"

Condemned by another bout of silence, Henry hid the colour of his ears behind hunched shoulders. "Baby, I was in love. I am in love with you. It's only ever been you! I needed you with me so bad. She knew we were done. She knew it. Divorce was not a foreign word."

"Just tell me straight. Did you put it in stone that night? When you flew me ten hours to Paris to be with you?"

"No. I didn't. I went home, said goodbye to her, she gave me the cold shoulder, I cursed, and she got angry with me. I told her I was finished, and then I left. Maybe I didn't flat out say I want a divorce, but it was implied."

"I'm curious to see what's on these discs," she said.

"Sweetheart, I will watch them with you, totally confident there's no evidence of me with any other woman."

"Good," she nodded. "Because you're mine. Maybe I'm the bad one for not caring. If you're bad, I'm worse. I don't give a fuck about you cheating on her, and this is the first time I've ever admitted it out loud. You're mine, Henry. You belong to me. She knew what she had and uses faith as an excuse for hiding a horrible secret from you!"

"Good Lord, I don't want to cry about this again," said Henry.

"Fuck it, Henry, just like you said. Fuck her and fuck the life you had. Your ass is mine now," she stuck her ring finger in the air. "Like, forever."

Henry pouted and melted into her lap. She quickly ran her hands through his hair as he moaned against her knee. "But what about our family?"

"We'll figure it out, babe. I promise. Until then, just keep shooting loads inside of me, and we'll see what happens."

He burst with laughter and lifted his rosy face to kiss her. "That's such a you thing to say in a time of crisis."

"I told you last night and back at the hotel... I'm with you. I'll back you in everything you do and make sure not a day goes by you wish you were somewhere else."

"I have absolutely no doubt of that, sweetheart. Goddamn it, I love you... Wifey," he giggled.

"But how hot would it be to have sex while watching DVDs of us hooking up in the Beamer and touching on patios and shit?"

"So hot. I've been thinking about it, and I've concluded it is very fucking hot."

"All right, hubby. Let's put this shit behind us forever and get busy getting married and having babies. We have places to go!"

"Yeah," Henry grabbed her hand and nodded. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

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